#and Chuuya BURSTS LAUGHING AND JUST SPREADS THE WORD AROUND

[unicornpopcorn14]

Has anyone written/drawn smth about Dazai getting unknowingly shipped overseas while sleeping in his shipping container yet??? Bc if not I'll write it it's just too funny to pass up-

Edit: *throws the fic atcha and runs*

[allisonlol]

Can i req for dazai,nikolai,fyodor with an s/o whos usually super aloof and doesnt show much emotion,but when they're drunk they're a crying mess lmao,like full on venting and sobbing

a/n: words can't describe how much i love this request like um?? tysm for this?? added chuuya too just cuz

warnings: alcohol, being drunk, crying

(Dazai, Nikolai, Fyodor, Chuuya) When Their S/O Cries While Drunk

Dazai

oh god

don't let this man see that side of u because he will never let you live it down

but on this night, you & dazai had spent a few hours in the bar where you'd drank a little more than intended

with each drink, you could feel your aloof and guarded side fading into a more...emotional state of which your boyfriend had never seen before

you start pulling on dazai's sleeve to let him know you want to go home now, and he's very surprised when he turns to see you looking up at him with pleading, watery eyes

ngl it ignites something in him-

he's also confused tho and worried that someone might've done something to you while he wasn't paying attention?? so he grabs your hand and y'all rush out to the car

once in the car, he asks what's wrong and that's when the floodgates open

you start sobbing uncontrollably and venting about the most random and irrelevant things from like 3 days ago

"i typed my whole document out and it didn't save so i had to restart and then i spilled my coffee all over my desk and-" (◞‸◟ )

pls you cry so hard you choke and start having a coughing fit

the whole time dazai is just looking at you like ఠ_ఠ??

having figured out that this must be how you get when drunk, this mf bursts out laughing

gives you the biggest hug and starts gushing about how adorable you are, which shocks you out of crying

Nikolai

so opposites attract or whatever

which is probably what drew nikolai to you in the first place, since you're so aloof and he's so...out there

but when you're drunk?? it's a whole different story

on this night, you'd decided to crack open a cold one while you were waiting for nikolai to get home from his shenanigans

however, one drink soon turned to several and an hour later, you were completely drunk

which meant your emotional state had flipped on its head

nikolai is very caught off guard when he arrives home and u immediately launch yourself at him

all you can do in your current state is wrap your arms around him and start crying

he literally freezes and looks at you like (•◡•) ????

notices that you're still holding a half-empty wine bottle (which you'd spilled all over the floor when jumping on him) & that's when it clicks

a sly smile will spread over his face once he realizes THIS is what happens when ur drunk

teases you while you're clinging to him and literally sobbing for no apparent reason (sadist much??)

can’t get enough of how unusually affectionate you are in this state…& while he loves your normal self as well, he very much prefers this ngl

yea um. watch out now bc this man will purposefully get u drunk just to see you act so different than when ur sober </3

Fyodor

was it a good idea to get drunk simply out of pure boredom because ur bf was too busy with his work to pay attention to you?

maybe not. but u did it anyways

however, it's an hour later after you've made it through a little too much champagne that you start to feel the effects

let's just say that fyodor was very surprised to see you barging into his office while crying your eyes out

you kinda just stand there sobbing and he remains seated and stares at you...it’s awkward

if you look closely, you can see a smidgen of worry in his eyes which is the rarest thing ever

but after the initial concern at seeing you crying, he realizes you're drunk and then his worry turns to amusement & mild irritation

gestures for you to come sit with him and you literally SPRINT across the room to collapse in his lap

and then out of nowhere, u start venting about how much you love him and how you don't care about anything BUT him??

pls. this man is so confused...but it is great for his ego ofc

fyodor's eyes will widen in surprise but only for a split second

gently pets your hair while softly shushing you

you're lowkey getting on his nerves tho, so he'll probably kick you out of his office so your crying doesn't distract from his work 😬

Chuuya

tbh i think he's the best for this situation :') or perhaps i'm just biased...

either way, i feel like chuuya isn't even all that surprised when he sees this side of you

and who is he to judge? mans is literally a lightweight that spam calls dazai when he's drunk soooo

this time in particular, you and chuuya were relaxing at his penthouse when he brought out some new wine for u to try

it was really good tho and you ended up drinking way too much

however, chuuya did as well so at least u weren't the only one

you can feel your indifferent persona starting to slip as the alcohol courses your system, and it's only a matter of minutes before you start crying for no good reason??

chuuya notices the instant your eyes get watery and scrambles over to sit next to you

seeing you sad makes him sober up REAL quick

fumbles to grab one of your hands while asking what’s wrong with a v worried expression on his face

you barely hear him tho because you’ve started ranting though your tears about how, the other day, he’d eaten one of the snacks you’d left in the fridge that YOU were gonna eat

the best part is that you weren’t even upset about this before; but the alcohol in your system was making it seem like the worst thing ever

chuuya just stares at you blankly for a minute while contemplating what to do

literally tells you to “stay here” & then gets up and runs to the store to buy 10x the food for you as compensation 😭

taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @xelia25 @scul-pted @exorcisedstraydog @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @ravenina14 @sonder-paradise @imhanako @dreaming-of-ambedo @nervousyetconfidentway

[sirenascales]

-> double black [final part] 18+

-> Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai

-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?

-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing

Let's end this with a bang, shall we? Also, let's not cry too much, okay? [Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai]

4,004 words

warning: SMUT, double vaginal penetration, oral [M], face fucking, slight degradation, passing out, emotions in the end

note:  we're finally done! thanks to everyone who took the time to read my silly story! I truly hope this brought you some type of joy and entertainment! I would appreciate some final feedback now that we are finished. Please dont be shy 🥺❤

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || Masterlist

I couldn't help the deep sigh that left from behind my lips as strong hands massaged my back, my body relaxing on the comfortable massage bed. A floral, relaxing scent wafted through my nose, further relaxing me.

"Your body is so tense," a soft, feminine voice said and I hummed in response, eyes closing as the person's hands continued to massage me. "Don't worry, I'll have you all better by the end."

I just hummed again, letting my mind wander as the masseuse massaged my muscles. If she noticed the bruises and bite marks left on my skin, she didn't say anything, just massaging them a little more carefully.

The night before... just thinking back to it made me chew on my bottom lip, remembering how both Chuuya and Dazai thoroughly fucked me deep into the night. They basically turned me inside out, pulling orgasm after orgasm from my body, using me in any which way to please them until I was a fucked out, shaking mess, lying on my back staring blankly at the ceiling.

I can hear their laughter still in my head, the dirty words they whispered still fresh in my mind. Can still feel their rough fingers digging into my flesh, in my mouth, inside me, pulling me into new heights over and over again until I was basically brain dead.

Last night was the first night in days that I had actually gotten some sleep, having woken up refreshed, yet still sore just this morning. It took a bit to get up and walk around, searching for clothes only to remember that I didn't even pack a bag when Chuuya brought me to the penthouse.

"You won't need it," Chuuya told me, sitting at the bar and sipping some tea. He only wore his pants, his shirtless form making me flustered a bit.

"I can't walk around naked, you know. What if I need to leave the penthouse?" I huffed, earning a laugh from Dazai, who was still cuddled up in the blankets.

"You're not leaving, bella~"

I scoffed. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I took vacation time."

"Bullshit."

Dazai just grinned at me and I rolled my eyes. I can just hear Kunikida bursting a blood vessel at this very moment. I shook my head, feeling Chuuya come up and hug me from behind, kissing on my neck softly.

"You won't be leaving," he confirmed Dazai's statement and I shivered slightly. "The masseuse will be here in an hour, so eat breakfast. I felt just how tight and tense your body was last night."

"We need you to be nice and pliable~" Dazai sang and I scoffed, my face heating up.

"Horn dogs..." I grumbled, Chuuya letting me go. After a much needed shower and breakfast, there was a knock on the door and now here I was, the very skilled masseuse kneading out every tight knot in my body.

"Thank you," Chuuya told the masseuse after finishing the session with me. He handed her a fat wad of cash and as she headed out the penthouse, more than pleased with the large tip.

"... and you really think you don't scream 'sugar daddy'?" I asked him, earning a huff and a glare from the red head. Dazai snickered, arm wrapping around my loose body. He led me over to the bar to join Chuuya and I sat on the stool. There was a bit of a silence and I took a look at the two of them before I set my hands on the bar.

"Okay," I started. "Let's talk."

"Ohhh, exciting," Dazai hummed, grabbing the whiskey and pouring himself a glass. "Now that things have finally settled down, I guess it's finally time to have this conversation."

Chuuya was confused. "What conversation?"

"What else? This," I gestured between the three of us. "Us."

"... aren't we just what, fuck buddies? Hell, we were only supposed to have a one night stand!"

"Yet, here we are, Chuuya."

"That's what happens when you have good pussy," Dazai remarked and I gasped, completely scandalized as my face heated up.

"Dazai!"

"What, it's true!"

"Ugh, even if we are just fuck buddies, we have to set boundaries! Expectations!" I exclaimed. "We haven't used condoms, we know Dazai is a little thot-" 

"Hey!" 

"Pfft!"

"Don't laugh, Chuuya, you are way too pretty to not be gettin' some."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, you're the only one I've been sleeping with," Dazai admitted and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I don't know if I believe you."

"But it's true! Whose bed have I been in the most recently?"

"I... well, you have a point."

"And you're the first I've had in a while," Chuuya admitted himself. "I had a lot of things going on."

I nodded my head in understanding, fiddling with my thumbs a bit. "Well... I just want us to be safe. And well, you know, happy so... I don't mind... keeping things how they are now. You know, casual..." I was getting a bit flustered.

"I don't have a problem with it," Dazai said with a shrug.

"Of course you don't," Chuuya huffed. "But fine. It'll be better if feelings don't get involved anyway."

"Oh, most definitely," I agreed with a nod of my head. "And if anyone wants out, then that's okay."

"Oh bella, I don't think that's happening anytime soon," Dazai hummed, finishing his whiskey. He set the glass down, capturing my gaze with his heated eyes and I gasped softly. I then felt my hair being pushed to the side and I bit my lip as Chuuya pressed up against me, kissing on my neck.

"Wait-" I gasped, watching as Dazai stood up from his stool, already pulling off his shirt. "We need to-"

"Talking is over," Chuuya whispered, easily pulling me off the stool. We followed Dazai back towards the bed, it was made with fresh, clean sheets. My mind immediately wandered back to the night before and a chill went down my spine.

It didn't take long for things to get heated, me now sandwiched between them standing at the foot of the bed. My hands were in Chuuya's hair as we kissed, his hands going to undo the robe I was in. The soft material fell to the ground and from behind, Dazai cupped my breasts in his hands, leaving hot, open mouth kisses on my neck.

Dazai's fingers pinched and pulled at my nipples, while Chuuya pushed his hand between my legs, fingers finding my clit. I gasped when he started to rub circles on it, his free arm wrapping around my waist to keep me still.

"You're so wet already," Chuuya whispered against my lips and I whined softly.

"Are you surprised?" Dazai asked, his voice dark yet teasing. "Our dirty little girl is always ready for us to just... take her. Is that right?"

He had asked me and I whimpered softly, nodding my head as I bit my lip to keep me from moaning loudly as Chuuya pushed two fingers inside my wet pussy. Dazai tutted, Chuuya snickering a bit as Dazai grabbed me by my hair, yanking my head back. I cried out, Dazai hissing in my ear.

"I thought we taught you yesterday. Use your fucking words."

"Yes!" I cried out, Chuuya slowly fucking his fingers into me, making it harder for me to talk. I knew I had to answer, but the way that his fingers curled into me made it oh so difficult. No fair. "Yes... 'm so wet for you... I always want you..."

"And why is that?" Chuuya asked, curling his fingers again, Dazai reaching around to rub on my clit as he mouthed along my neck.

"Cause!" I squealed. "I'm- I'm a whore... your whore... your subordinate..."

The men cursed and I found myself thrown onto the bed, only getting a quick second to gather my thoughts before they were on me, Dazai now kissing me deeply while Chuuya kissed along on my chest, taking one of my nipples into his mouth. I moaned in pleasure, squeezing my thighs together, only for both men to reach and spread my legs open.

"Don't fucking hide your pussy from me," Chuuya growled and I whimpered and nodded, crying out when Dazai pushed two of his long fingers into me.

It wasn't long until I found myself on my hands and knees, Chuuya fucking me from behind while Dazai held a tight grip on my head, fucking my mouth. My moans were muffled, the two men moaning, hissing and cursing from their own pleasure.

"I don't know which I like better, your pussy or this hot fucking mouth," Dazai hissed down at me, thrusting his cock deep into my throat then going still, almost making me gag as he made my mouth cockwarm him. "That's right, savor it..."

"Definitely love this pussy, so fucking tight..." Chuuya grunted, hands digging into my hips as he continued to fuck me, the feeling of my walls convulsing around him bringing him near his orgasm. "Fuck, dollface... it's like you were made for us, made for me." He moved his hand around to start rubbing at my clit, my moans and screams muffled by Dazai's cock.

Tears were already running down my face, the vibration from my moans making Dazai tilt his head back as he groaned deeply. Chuuya only had to fuck into me a bit longer before my orgasm rushed through me, my eyes rolling back and my toes curling as I tightened impossibly hard around him. Dazai quickly pushed my head away from him, and I knew it was because I was so close to unconsciously biting him.

"Fuck!" Chuuya quickly pulled out, beginning to stroke his cock himself, when I suddenly shouted.

"Inside! Please!"

Not even thinking about it, Chuuya plunged right back inside of me, pressing me down onto the bed with his hands on my back. His thrusts were almost wild, rough with reckless abandon and I sobbed, clawing into the bed sheets until I found what felt like someone's thigh, clinging onto it.

Feeling Chuuya cum deep inside of me triggered yet another orgasm for me and my mouth was wide open in a silent scream. I barely registered Dazai's hand cupping my jaw, his other stroking his cock until he came right into my gaping mouth.

"Oh fuck, bella... c'mon, swallow it all..." Dazai cooed, closing my mouth for me, wiping my tears away as I did as he told me. I opened my mouth to show him and he smiled slightly. "That's a good girl..."

"Fuck... that was intense..." Chuuya breathed out, lying on his back as I slowly sat up on the bed, catching my breath. My body shook, my mind still hazing as I looked over the two of them. At the sight of blood on Dazai's thigh, my jaw dropped.

"Oh no, I'm sorry..." I whispered, seeing just how hard I dug my nails into his skin.

Dazai just chuckled, waving his hand dismissively as he made himself comfortable against the headboard. "Don't worry about it, bella."

"But-"

"If you're that worried, then come make it up to me. Come sit on this cock."

A chill goes down my spine, but I was already moving to crawl over to him, straddling him and sinking down right on his cock. I gasped sharply, still feeling a bit sensitive but I took it like a champ, trembling on Dazai's lap. Immediately I start to slowly ride him, hands on his shoulders. My head tilted back, eyes closed as I moaned softly.

Dazai just gazed at me, a fond look on his face. The look went away as he looked over at Chuuya, his lips curling up just a bit. "Hey Chuuya..."

"Ugh, what, you bastard?" Chuuya grunted, lifting his head up to look over at us. He watched as Dazai stopped me, squeezing on my ass before he spread my cheeks apart, exposing more of how my pussy swallowed his cock. "Why don't you join us?"

I immediately tense up in his lap, Chuuya's jaw dropping just a bit at the suggestion. He listened to Dazai coo in my ear, hands now rubbing on my back.

"Wouldn't you like two cocks stuffing that pussy, bella?" he hummed, squeezing on my ass again. "Mm, even Chuuya likes that idea, he's hard again."

Chuuya blushed. "Well, who wouldn't be after hearing that?" he scoffed, noticing me looking over my shoulder to look at him, and his cock.

I bit my lip, my mind running at forty thousand miles an hour. The thought of both Dazai and Chuuya stuffing my pussy full of their cock honestly made my heart race, my body shaking as I got so aroused. There was no other answer to be said, and I slowly nodded my head.

A tut. "Words, bella."

"Yes... Yes please. I want you both to fuck me at the same time... I want you to ruin me..."

"Fuck," Chuuya cursed. "You're gonna be the fucking death of me, I hope you know that, dollface."

Dazai laughed, watching Chuuya rummage in the bedside drawer and producing a bottle of lubricant. "Our Chuuya, always so prepared!"

"Oh, shut up, bastard!" Chuuya shouted, climbing back onto my bed and positioning himself behind me. I tensed up again and he huffed, gently kissing on my neck. "You need to relax, dollface. We'll take care of you."

"Hmm," Dazai hummed in agreement, giving me a sweet kiss as Chuuya started to coat his cock with the lubricant. "Relax, it will feel good."

I nodded again, kissing Dazai as a way to distract myself as Chuuya started to rub some extra lube on my pussy. Dazai deepened the kiss, making me moan lightly as I felt Chuuya finally press the head of his cock against my entrance. I took a deep breath, Dazai kissing down on my neck as Chuuya slowly pushed inside of me.

"Fuck..." Chuuya gasped out breathlessly, shuddering deeply as he continued to push in slowly. My head was tilted back, a far away look in my eyes as my mouth hung open. It was like nothing I've ever felt before, so full, so fucking tight and intense. Chuuya pressed his forehead against my shoulder, breathing heavily as he finally bottomed out.

Dazai was just as affected, his eyes glazed over, his bottom lip caught in his teeth as he breathed heavily. "Shit... I could die like this," he whispered. "H-how are you, bella..."

"I..." I stumbled, whimpering when Chuuya shifted just a bit, all three of us hissing as he did so. "Fuck, it feels so good..."

Chuuya was the first to move, slowly pulling himself out before pushing back in. My walls around him, his cock rubbing against Dazai's, it was all too much and Chuuya found him struggling to keep himself in check.

Dazai slowly started to thrust on his own, our breaths coming out strained and haggard as they started to figure out a rhythm to keep. Soon, our moans and grunts sounded about the room, my whines and high pitched squeals ripping from my mouth while they both fucked me so deep, their mouths on any part of my body they can reach.

The headboard thudded against the wall with each thrust, sweat dripping down our bodies. No surprise that tears start to flow down my face, their hands squeezing my body. A hand grabs my face and Chuuya turns my head to kiss me deeply, our tongues swirling around each other as another tongue laps at my nipples.

"Fuck, bella, do you know how fucking beautiful you are," Dazai gasped out against my chest. I only whined, their thrusts becoming a bit more rough, the sounds of skin slapping against skin getting louder, as well as our moans and cries.

"Please... please, it feels so good!" I cried out, tossing my head against Chuuya's head, my hands gripping Dazai's shoulders tightly. "I feel so full..."

"Full of our cocks, huh?" Chuuya groaned. "Fucking you so good... you look so fucking pretty right now, so fucking dirty..."

"Like the whore you are," Dazai continued, smirking.

"Y-your whore..." I mumbled, biting on my lip. "Oh... God... I'm gonna come..."

That only seemed to spur them on, as their thrusts became rougher, their breaths labored as they squeezed my body tight as they fucked me nice and deep. My eyes screwed shut, another cry leaving my lips as the dam finally broke, orgasm tearing through me as my whole body just went rigid, walls convulsing and tightening around them as my vision went white. I just barely registered them cumming inside me when suddenly, my vision went dark.

I was on my back when I suddenly came to and I stared up at the ceiling in confusion, trying to remember what the fuck happened.

"Hey, are you okay?" A gentle finger along my cheek made me jolt and I looked over to find Chuuya lying beside me on the bed, worried look on his face. "You passed out on us."

I was stunned. "I did? For how long?"

"Just a few minutes," Dazai answered, still naked as he walked over to the bed, handing me a bottle of water before climbing into the bed on the other side of me. "Drink that. We're gonna order room service soon."

"I..." I was still stunned, even as I downed half of the bottle of water. "That has never happened before..."

"It was just a bit too intense," Chuuya said, still keeping a gentle hand on me. "Scared the crap out of us."

I frowned. "Sorry..."

Chuuya chuckled softly, kissing my cheek. "Don't be. Somehow, I feel quite smug about this."

I snorted, Dazai just laughing as he shot Chuuya a look.

"Better to make them pass out than to put them to sleep?" he taunted and Chuuya immediately reacted, vein popping on his forehead.

"I have never put anyone to sleep! At least not in the bad way!"

"Yeah, Chuuya is no way boring in bed," you interjected and Dazai whined.

"Bella, I was just having fun!"

I stuck out my tongue at him, Chuuya grumbling in annoyance. He glared at Dazai, scoffing again before he reached over to the nightstand for the room service menu. Chuuya soon made the order for us, and we still lazed around in the bed, honestly not willing to move.

Then a thought came into my head and I groaned. "Fuck. We still have five more days." I slapped my forehead, making the two men burst out laughing.

"Don't think you passing out will stop our plans, dollface," Chuuya teased, kissing my neck and I shied away from him, only to find myself in Dazai's arms as he kissed all over my face.

"This is just a much needed break," he hummed happily, making me roll my eyes. Even if I didn't admit it, I was looking forward to what was next for us, and my poor body.

"Does this place have a hot tub?" I asked and Chuuya nodded.

"They do. And they are private." The implications in his tone made my face get hot and I coughed. They laughed and I just couldn't believe how high of a sex drive they had. Even so, I had no room to talk, considering I was probably no better. And that was okay.

"Can we break for the rest of today?" I then asked them and they shrugged.

"All you have to do is ask," Dazai replied, sending a teasing grin Chuuya's way. "Besides, now I can finally hang with my best bud."

"Oh cut the crap, Dazai," Chuuya growled in response. "As if I'll be friends with a bastard like you."

"Yeah... being friends with someone with horrible shoe taste totally isn't cool. Especially if he wears a stupid hat."

"My hat is not stupid!"

The two continued to argue, their clear dislike for each other making me sigh. I just ignored them, pulling on my robe and getting ready to receive the room service for when it arrives.

Could I survive five more days of...this?

"I'm gonna miss you so much," I whispered as I hugged my best friend tightly, feeling my eyes start to sting. The loud, busy bustle of the airport continued around us, folks from all walks of life coming and going. I pulled back from the hug, giving Keiko a wide, watery smile.

She wiped my tears away, her own tears threatening to fall. "Don't cry, honey. I'll be back before you know it."

As Keiko told me before, she was going away on an extended trip, and will be gone for six months, even longer. She needed to get out of Japan and go to a place where she could heal and find herself again, and Japan was not the place for that.

Just the thought of not having my best friend with me brought fresh tears to my eyes and I hugged her again. Keiko hugged me back just as tightly, the dam finally breaking and tears falling down her beautiful face.

"Thank you so much. For everything," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You saved my life. I will forever be indebted to you."

"No, Keiko," I pulled back again, shaking my head. "You are not. You will not be tied down to someone again, not even me."

Keiko frowned. "But-"

"Just get better," I told her firmly. "Heal. Become a better Keiko. Come back bigger and better than ever. That is how you can repay me." I smiled at her, reaching up to wipe her tears away. Her big eyes shone with tears and emotions, her lips quivering as she cupped my face.

"I'm gonna miss you so much," she said softly. "I love you."

I laughed softly, putting my hand over hers. "I love you too, Keiko. I am just a phone call away and I'll be here whenever you need me."

Keiko smiled wide, still cupping my face and I was surprised when she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss right on my lips. My eyes widened and my jaw dropped as Keiko pulled away, giggling behind her hand.

"What was-"

"I'll be back in a blink of an eye," Keiko said, picking up her carry on bag. "And we're gonna have sooooo much catching up to do, so you better be ready! And please, don't get pregnant."

I gaped at her and Keiko laughed loudly. It made my heart race, that small glimpse of the old Keiko making me even more emotional. She waved at me one last time before turning and walking towards security. I watched as she went through, holding back my tears until she finally disappeared.

I took a deep breath, wiping the tears off my face before I turned to finally make my way out of the airport. I had come alone, just wanting to have this moment alone with Keiko. I didn't like the thought of being alone, but I knew that Keiko needed this more than anything, and I was proud of her for making such a huge decision. Besides, we could always facetime, so it's not like I'll be truly alone.

Getting into the taxi I had flagged down, I reached into my purse to grab my phone, gaping when my one messaging app showed over 100+ notifications. Opening it, I snorted a laugh when I realized it was because of Dazai and Chuuya fighting in the group chat I forced them to join. I sent in a short message before putting my phone away, shaking my head.

Yeah, with those two, I truly wouldn't be alone. I did worry for my sanity though, but that was something I worried about before I even moved to Japan. I took a glance into the rearview mirror of the taxi, not surprised to see in my reflection angry tears going down my face, even though my face was completely dry.

->The End

[astxlphe-fics]

Dazai didn’t��plan for any of this to happen to Akutagawa

The first thing he does, upon being pulled out of his cell by Ango, is planning on how to get him back.

Fix it fic

Pairing : Dazaku, Dazai Osamu / Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Word count : 5 361

Content Warnings : mentioned character death, vomiting, blood drinking, vampire, biting

There is a commotion in Yokohama, and Ango comes to pull Dazai out of his cell.   

"I managed to convince them to let you out," Ango tells him, gaze severe. "That you were essential to putting a stop to what is going on."  

"Smart." He smiles, tilting his head, and wonders how Atsushi and Akutagawa are doing. If he's right — and he usually is — Kamui is someone influential, and the two of them will have exposed him. "And what exactly is going on?"  

Ango doesn't look happy, and Dazai can feel a tiny bit of suspicion worm it's way inside his brain. He remembers when he glanced at Fyodor, in the cell facing him, as he walked out of the prison, and the Russian man smiled, mocking.   

Smug. Why is he so smug? Dazai is free, Fyodor is not. Dazai wins.  

"What," he repeats, "is going on?"  

"I picked up Atsushi at the drop point, as planned. Kamui is Fukuchi Ouchi, the head of the Hunting Dogs. Atsushi barely managed to get away."  

And what about Akutagawa, he doesn't ask, because he feels enough dread and he's smart enough that maybe he can guess.  

"We are now dealing with a vampire outbreak," Ango goes on, and the look he sends him is too close to pity for Dazai to stand his gaze for too long. "As for what exactly happened...I think Atsushi should be the one to tell you."  

It's bad then. His mind conjures images of Akutagawa, bloody and face  blank and heart still, and his own skips a few beats. He stops his train of thoughts before they get the best of him. He’s not ready for where it's going, so he hangs onto Akutagawa as much as possible.  

Angry scowl and rebellious and slightly petulant “I don’t care" to his request to help Atsushi and a fiery temper and eyes that make Dazai's stomach flip in a way he’s still not quite ready to face.  

He breathes. Akutagawa is strong, he is fine. He was always strong, in spite of Dazai's reluctance to actually tell him that.   

Atsushi and Akutagawa are young, and still inexperienced, but their combined power is nothing to laugh at and pulled them through several powerful enemies.  

But is it strong enough to beat Fukuchi Ouchi, he wonders, and quickly he knows the answer is “probably not”.  

“Bram Stoker?” Dazai guesses. There is only one known ability user capable of creating something close to vampires, and it’s Bram Stoker — who caused a terrible calamity eight years ago and was since then not heard of again. Officially, Fukuchi himself killed him, but if Fukuchi is Kamui then—   

“Very likely.”  

Ango leads him out of the prison, not through the front door but through the underground tunnels leading out in the deeper parts of the city.  

“The outbreak started within the Port Mafia,” Ango goes on, “and spread throughout the underworld through them. The Black Lizards went down first, according to Tachihara. We have no idea what happened to the high-ranking members, but—” he trails, scowls. Checks his phone. “We’re not optimistic.”  

The Port Mafia should be able to hold back against such a thing — lock down their Headquarters and safe houses, carefully comb through their members for any wayward vampire, keep the infection to a minimum in their ranks, and then hit back against the source of it.  

This kind of thing means loss of business and Mori, he knows, would not stand for it. 

With Chuuya, Kouyou, and Mori out of the picture, they can’t count on their strength to fight back, which is a less than ideal situation. 

His mind races as he follows Ango through quiet, empty streets, trying to figure it out. The source of it — Bram Stoker, obviously, but who is the first victim? Would putting Stoker out of commission be enough to turn everyone back? So, does it mean Dazai only needs to find him and touch him?  

If Atsushi came back alone from the confrontation with Fukuchi, instead of walking away from it with Akutagawa at his side, probably means that—  

“We’re here.” It's a house. A nice one, at that, nondescript and, he guesses, some sort of safehouse for spies or criminals. He doesn’t recognize the address, but the Mafia is always shifting and changing to avoid being caught. “It’s a Mafia safehouse,” he confirms, “the Agency is here, Mori gave them access before the outbreak.”  

+

“Dazai!!”   

It’s a chorus that welcomes him, and he grins, trying to be lighthearted even though their faces tell him how tired they are. “My, my, what a mess,” he exclaims, “you guys are really lost without me, aren’t you?”  

Some muttering and eye rolls answer him, but they all smile and pat his back and Naomi and Kenji draw him into a tight hug, but to be honest they’re not the ones he expected to jump at him.  

The president pats his shoulder, and tells him how good it is to have him back, before his eyes slide to the teen sitting on the ground in the corner. "He hasn’t said a word since Ango brought him back here,” he informs him. “Six hours ago.”  

So, Dazai turns to his protégé, who is staring at a spot on the opposite wall and resolutely does not look at him, or anyone. Kyouka sits next to him, so close she might as well me melting into his side.  

No Akutagawa in sight, but Atsushi is wearing a familiar black coat. Still, while Dazai usually trusts his brain to come up with the answers by itself, this time around he wants to hear it. He will not let Akutagawa go until he doesn’t have proof before his own two eyes.  

He crouches in front of Atsushi; whose gaze focuses on him and Dazai just has the time to smile and say “ hello Atsushi" before he bursts into tears.  

“I’m sorry,” he cries, and rubs at his own face until it’s red. “Akutagawa—he— Fukuchi killed him.” He says the words as if he barely believes them himself, as if it’s the first time he actually speaks them out loud and is just getting used to the notion. “He— Fukuchi offered to train him and said he had to kill me but Akutagawa said no and we tried to fight him together and we won.” He pauses, catching his breath before his words can turn too garbled by his hiccups and sniffles. “But his sword, it cut through time and with it he also — he cut his throat with his sword and Akutagawa knew and he still did it to help me get away— I’m so sorry Dazai, I didn’t want—”  

Dazai’s blood has gone cold, and he isn’t sure what Atsushi tells him next. This is one of the worst outcomes. He estimated, when he asked for Akutagawa’s help, that the risks were minimal.

He miscalculated.  

This isn’t what was supposed to happen.   

Akutagawa and Atsushi were supposed to make it, together, and come out on the other side stronger than ever.   

“—and now he’s this—this— vampire thing and it’s my fault, I should’ve listened to Ranpo but Fukuchi had the page from the Book so— I don’t understand,” he ends up saying. “Why would he—”  

“It’s not your fault,” Dazai hears himself say. “Akutagawa took on this mission out of his own, free will.” He still sees himself insisting until he agrees in spite of his misgivings, and this affirmation feels a little like a lie. “Akutagawa made the choice to save you. It was his decision and his alone. It’s not your fault.”  

It’s not Atsushi’s fault, but it’s Dazai’s, a little, and Fukuchi’s, the most.  

“He said he didn’t want to die until you acknowledged him,” Atsushi adds quietly, wiping his nose, as if it doesn’t make it worse. “That he couldn’t afford to disappoint you.”

Fukuchi, in Dazai’s mind, is already a dead man, and he can feel the cold dread in his insides turn into white hot fury.  

“I’m not.” Atsushi doesn’t look convinced, so he insists. “I’m not mad or disappointed in you, or in Akutagawa.”

He’s disappointed in himself for not seeing it coming and mad at Fukuchi and Stoker for doing such a thing to Akutagawa.  

“That’s good.” Atsushi sniffles, the whispered answer has Dazai pulling him into an embrace.

Atsushi grabs onto his coat, hands closing into fists, and buries his face in his chest. Dazai rests his chin on the top of his head for a short time, holding tight on the grieving kid, trying to put order in what he’s heard.  

“Akutagawa is a vampire?” he asks the rest of them. Ango shrugs.  

“He told me, on the way here, that he saw him. I didn’t though, and I guess we could write it off as a hallucination of sort, but—”  

“The outbreak started with the Mafia, specifically the Black Lizards,” Ranpo cuts in, glasses firmly up on his nose, sucking on a lollipop. “According to Ango here, Akutagawa’s subordinate was turned first and spread it to the rest, but she hasn’t been anywhere close to Fukuchi or Bram Stoker.” He stumbles on Fukuchi’s name, and the president looks nothing but pained. “Short answer is yes.”  

“And he’s probably our patient zero,” Dazai completes for him. “I figured as much.”  

“Do you have an idea on how to combat the infection?” Kunikida asks. From the beginning, he has been standing close to Atsushi, obviously unwilling to push him too much to speak. He sits down, though, and his hand now rests on Atsushi’s shoulder.   

“Well, Ango came to get me, didn’t he?” He smiles blandly. “You guys think No Longer Human can cancel it?”  

Dracula is an ability, which means that No Longer Human can erase it. “If we can find Stoker,” the president suggests, “we could put a stop to it.”  

“Would it turn everyone back, though?” Yosano wonders.  

“We believe it would.” When everyone turns to him, Ango elaborates: “From previous records, all of them are linked to him in a way. On their first report, Fukuchi and his team noted that while they acted wild, they seemed to have some sort of hivemind. That was before Stoker was discovered to be at the origin of the phenomenon, so Fukuchi would not have falsified that information. After Stoker's defeat, everyone infected was cured on their own.” And, back to Dazai: “So yes, we track down Stoker, you erase his ability, everyone is be back to normal. You’re the only one who can do this, Dazai.”  

“It appears so.”  

It doesn’t change the fact that Fukuchi killed Akutagawa, and right now they have no way to know if turning him back into a human will send him right back into death’s embrace.   

In any case, Akutagawa is Dazai's student. His responsibility. His. If someone has to stop Akutagawa on a blood drinking spree, it's Dazai. He refuses to allow anyone else to do it.   

“And I will fix it, as you ask, but only—” Ango's almost silent sigh of relief is cut short. “Only if we find Akutagawa first.”  

No, he’s not ready to let Akutagawa die. Death has already taken much from Dazai, and he will not let it have Akutagawa. Not now. Not as long as Dazai is alive to pull him away from it.   

Ango stays silent for a long time, lips pinched. “Dazai.” His tone is very careful. “I understand your position but we can’t prioritise Akutagawa over the rest of the city. Stoker is our priority.”  

“Akutagawa first,” he insists. He knows Ango is right, but a plan is already forming, and adjusting to his previous miscalculations and going off into several directions until he thinks of something coherent enough that he’s sure it’ll end with Akutagawa coming back to them.   

Coming back to him.   

“Thousands of people are being hurt because of Stoker,” Kunikida argues. “We should—”  

“Akutagawa,” he repeats firmly, glaring at Kunikida, whose mouth closes in a clack of teeth, though he is not any less frustrated. “Then Stoker.”  

And then…And then the president’s clench around the handle of his blade and, one way or another, Fukuchi will not get away with it.  

He doesn’t know what the others see when they look at him, but whatever it is it shuts down any other attempt at supporting Ango's argument.  

“Fine,” Ango relents. “But be careful. We don’t know if you can be turned.”  

“Very unlikely,” Ranpo pipes in.   

Dazai nods along, and ruffles his distraught junior’s hair with a smile. “Hear that, Atsushi? We can still get Akutagawa out of all this trouble.”  

+

 “I—” Atsushi pauses, sending Dazai a sidelong glance, which lets Dazai know that he’s still making that face everyone seems to find scary. “I’m sorry.”  

“No need,” Dazai tells him again. “It’s not your fault. Which way?”  

Atsushi stops and raises his head, breathes in deeply through his nose and mouth, licks his lips. Dazai watches him intently — he is slightly better, less distressed than before. The perspective of saving Akutagawa, even if only to repay him for what he did for him, seems to lift his spirit. Good, because Atsushi is an essential part of the plan — if anyone can track down Akutagawa it’s him, with his keen tiger nose.  

They have been following his trail for about an hour now, after another full hour of Ango explaining what he knows of Stoker’s ability.  

The other person needed for it is Yosano, because no matter the outcome they’ll need a doctor on site.   

“This way.”  

Atsushi leads them deeper into the city, towards the slums. Atsushi keeps sending him little nervous glances, fidgeting with the collar of Akutagawa’s coat. It’s obvious he has something to say, and a twinge of guilt lets Dazai know that he dislikes making Atsushi feel like he can’t speak to him.  

“What is it?” he asks, willing his tone to be softer, like Atsushi needs.  

Atsushi needs kindness and guidance. He doesn’t need to see the Dazai with the itch in his bones, with the urges to repay his enemies tenfold, waking up after years of forcing them down. Old habits die hard. 

Those urges, he knows, are only back because he feels stupid and useless and angry. 

“It’s just—” he bites his lips. “I want to help Akutagawa too, but Ango is right, isn’t he? And if we stop Stoker, wouldn’t that help Akutagawa all the same?”  

“It’s riskier,” he explains. “If Akutagawa died — or was dying — before being turned, then he could die soon after he turns back.”  

Atsushi blanches. “So, you want to knock him out and bring him back so Doctor Yosano can be around when he turns back?”  

“We would not be able to hold him until we found Stoker and put out of commission — remember that the vampires have increased strength? Besides, we would have to leave Yosano and several of ours behind to keep him in check, and they would risk being infected before we deal with Stoker. So, my plan is a bit different.” 

“And... are you sure it’ll work?” 

“Of course, I am!” 

Of course, he isn't. He can see two outcomes right now but who knows how many he’s missing? He completely missed the vampire development, didn’t he? What if it doesn’t work?  

“According to Ango, Dracula works by blood consumption — when Stoker drinks someone’s blood, he infects them with a component which alters their very being to transfer a part of his ability within them. This is what allows his victims to spread it to other people. Now, Atsushi-kun—” he wags his finger in front of the boy’s face, confidently, as if he’s sure of what he’s doing and not hoping he’s not missing something big “—what do you think will happen if someone tries to infect me ?”  

“With your ability? I guess it wouldn’t work and— Oh!” His face brightens. “If they drink your blood —”  

“No Longer Human will also cancel Dracula within their body.” Or so he hopes. “If he starts dying on us, Yosano will be able to heal him. Right?”  

“Right.” Yosano plays with the handle of a large knife. She's carrying a first aid kit which contains everything under the sun that could be needed.  

Even if all vampires are connected to him, Stoker can’t individually control them. There are too many of them. As a result, the brain functions and blood flow must be conserved for each infected person to move on their own.  

If Akutagawa was dead when turned, then Stoker had to reactivate them, which means being under his ability's influence he is functionally alive.They still have a chance at healing him even if those functions fail once Stoker’s ability leaves him.  

If they don’t but his wounds reopen, Yosano can heal him. If his heart stops, Yosano can revive him. 

Akutagawa depends on him being right on this — and a few years ago he would have scoffed and scorned at Akutagawa for being too weak, too dependent on him. But even then, he would have tried everything to save him, and then taught him a lesson to remember.  

(Now he just wants to hold him, make sure he is alive, and maybe kiss him one day, but it’s neither the time or the place or something he likes thinking about)  

Atsushi leads them through the slums now. It’s midday, and so far, they’ve managed to avoid any large groups of vampires thanks to Atsushi’s nose detecting them before they could.  

“They smell like blood,” Atsushi explains, wrinkling his nose. “It’s kind of gross, actually. The only reason I can pinpoint Akutagawa is because I spent time with him and I have this—” he tugs at the coat again.  

“Are you sure we aren’t following an old trail?”  

They’re approaching an old road Dazai knows very well, as it leaves the city to turn into an even more familiar path as it goes through the woods.   

“I’m sure.”  

He can see, in the distance, the old tree stump he met Akutagawa almost 7 years ago, and another time, just a few days before.  

“He’s close,” Atsushi whispers.  

His lips twitch into a small smile. Of course, he comes back here. Even if he doesn’t have all his mind, even if it’s only instinct, Akutagawa’s steps always take him back to Dazai.  

“Stay here, and remember to protect Yosano.” Then, to Yosano: “Be ready to jump in.”  

She nods resolutely, and he can feel their eyes on his back as he walks alone towards the clearing. His stomach turns, presumably from apprehension.  

“Come out now,” he calls out cheerfully. “I know you’re here.”  

The woods rustle, and footsteps ring out. Too heavy to be Akutagawa’s, he knows him to be light on his feet, but when he turns to face the newcomer, he pinches his lips.  

“Hello there, Akutagawa.”  

It is Akutagawa, but it is not.  

His steps are heavier, louder, uneven, and when he appears his body is hunched over.

Port Mafia’s rabid dog, Akutagawa is sometimes called.  

And as this Akutagawa snarls, showing off sharp fangs, features twisted and distorted, his eyes blood red, the color filling the pupils and cornea, Dazai figures that he finally lives up to the nickname.   

It’s the first time Dazai gets to see Bram Stoker's handiwork up close and he does not like it at all. Akutagawa stares at him but there is no recognition, and the only sounds out of his mouth are beast-like growls.   

He smiles ruefully. “What have they done to you? Do you even know who I am anymore?”  

How dare they try to steal his student, kill him and turn him into this? Dazai will not stand for this, and the itch is stronger now, but he’s not that kind of man anymore, no matter how furious he is he will not rip Stoker’s teeth out of his mouth and he will not bury the head of a gun down Fukuchi’s throat and press the trigger over and over again.  

No, he’s a different man, the kind of man that saves, and he will save him.  

He waits for Akutagawa to make his move. Further down the path, Atsushi is restless, he can tell, but he does not interfere.  

Then Akutagawa pounces, fast enough that Dazai flinches back, but he forces himself to stay still, fighting against the instinct that commands him to get out of the way.  

The things he won’t do for his wayward student.  

Akutagawa slams into him with surprising strength, knocking him off his feet and the air out of his lungs. Akutagawa pushes him back, and Dazai’s head hits the ground with a thud. He bites back a cry of pain, stars dancing in his field of vision while Akutagawa pins him on the ground, hands pressing on his chest.  

He glances back to Atsushi and Yosano, to find his protégé hackles raised, pupils slit. He shakes his head in spite of the vertigo. “Don’t move," he mouths.  

“That’s right,” he manages to say, struggling into Akutagawa’s grip to raise on his elbows. He succeeds, though Akutagawa rips through the collar of his shirt in the process. Akutagawa’s fingers grasp at his hair, pulling them harshly, dragging a hiss out of him.  

He bites.  

His fangs pierce Dazai’s throat with ease, and at first, it doesn’t hurt more than a scalpel breaking the skin. He feels his own blood run down his neck and Akutagawa’s tongue on his skin and it takes longer than Ango said it would before the ability tries to change him.  

When it does, it burns .   

No Longer Human always cancels ability from the outside, it’s the first time it has to do it from the inside.  

“That’s right,” he chokes out again, through the pain. Dracula tries to change his nature and clashes with No Longer Human and his whole body screams and tries to push the intruding ability out . He raises his hand, rests it on the back of Akutagawa’s neck to pull him closer. “It’s almost over.”  

Then the pain recedes, or maybe he’s feeling too light headed to care about it.  On top of him, Akutagawa’s fangs are still deep into his neck, and to be perfectly honest it almost feels good. 

Above him Akutagawa slows down and takes in a shaky breath. He raises his head, eyes still red, and maybe it doesn’t work, Dazai’s plan fails again, he can’t save him, so he pulls him down again — 

He said he didn’t want to die until you acknowledged him

“You fought so hard,” he whispers, because if the one last thing he can do for him is telling him the truth then he might as well do it. “You were so strong. I’m proud of you.”  

— instead of pushing him back into his neck, he kisses his lips, not minding the blood dribbling down his chin or the fangs scratching his skin.

Then, Akutagawa shakes his head. “D—” His body shivers, and he opens his eyes — two dark, human eyes, wide and afraid staring down at him. “Dazai-san— ”    

“Yosano.” He calls, and he doesn't think he's loud enough. "Yosano!"  

Akutagawa's body heaves again and he drags himself off Dazai, collapsing on the ground. He pushes himself up with his hand, before another shudder runs through him, dragging a strange sound out of his throat, and he promptly throws up.  

Dazai pushes himself up, ignoring his own nausea. “Akutagawa,” he calls out, and his student lets out another pitiful sound as he empties his stomach in the grass. At least his heart hasn’t stopped (yet), so once Dazai sits he lays his hand on his nape again. “It’s okay.” His tongue feels pasty and everything else slightly blurry. “I’m not letting you go.” 

He doesn’t think himself capable of anything more, for now. 

Yosano is here before Dazai can call for her again, and Atsushi pulls him away. “He’s throwing up blood,” he hears Yosano say through the sound of Akutagawa vomiting and the strange buzzing in his ears, and what he feels is relief.  “I think there is some in his lungs— you said Fukuchi cut his throat, right? and check on Dazai —” Atsushi scrambles to the first aid kit, and Yosano swears as Akutagawa suddenly goes limp. 

He can’t see, because Atsushi is all over him now, and he tries to push him away. “No, wait—” Atsushi protests, “I need to clean and bandage your neck, you’re bleeding. Doctor Yosano is taking care of him, he’ll be fine. You planned for this, remember?” 

“Yes,” he answers out loud, and smiles at Atsushi. “You're right, I did. He’s going to be okay. Yosano is a great doctor.” 

“Are you going to let me bandage you, now?” Atsushi doesn’t wait for his answer before getting to work, grabbing disinfectant and a roll of bandages. "Don't move."

Yosano mutters more swear words under her breath. Then, she leans back, wiping her forehead. “Good,” she declares, nodding, and Dazai can breathe. “He’s fine —” she raises an eyebrow at the still unconscious Akutagawa, “—and hopefully, you’ll stay that way, or Dazai might kill me.” 

Akutagawa is alive, Dazai can’t think of anything, and he throws his head back and laughs.   

+

Ryuunosuke dreams.  

It starts, he is not quite sure why, with a detached head who calls itself Bram Stoker. It has something to do with this man he’d been fighting with a weretiger, though both their names escape him for now.   

(What the hell is a weretiger anyway?)  

It moves along, and there is this woman— her face is wet with tears and she's saying something he can’t hear because he’s too hungry to listen, because everything around him feels wrong and now she’s screaming at him, in fear? Maybe, but she was never afraid of him before—  

(Before?) 

—and the screaming stop, and she is gone and he is running somewhere, looking for someone—  

— someone he wants to see, but he can’t name him quite yet, not until he’s standing in front of him, smiling, eyes dark, hello there, do you even know who I am anymore — the answer is no, yes, the name forces its way through his foggy brain as he sinks his teeth into his neck and his blood gushes down his throat and his body hurts.  

It's almost over   

You fought so hard   

Pain shakes his body as if something is trying to crawl out of him.  

You were so strong   

It burns.  

I’m proud of you   

Dazai. It’s Dazai.

The dream ends and he focuses, breathless, at Dazai, his throat bleeding, face stained with blood in a way that wakes the memories of lips on his own. 

The metallic taste in his mouth is disgusting, makes him want to retch, and he’s pretty sure he does just that, before the world goes cold and dark in a scarily familiar manner. 

I'm not letting you go  

+

When he wakes up, Akutagawa is understandably confused. 

Dazai opens up his third energy bar as Atsushi frets over the mafioso, trying to explain what happened in coherent sentences. Dazai does not intervene for now, watching them from where he’s sitting on the tree stump.  

He has not lost too much blood. Just enough to feel light headed and vaguely sick, but not enough to pass out, which is good news. All he needs right now is some food to get him back on his feet while Yosano checks Akutagawa up.

“A vampire outbreak,” Akutagawa repeats plainly, and Atsushi energetically nods.  

“— after the fight with Fukuchi, an ability user called Bram Stoker turned you into a vampire.” He frowns. “You spread it to the rest of the Mafia, through Higuchi first.” 

“But I was—” He pauses. “Dead. I remember that.” His voice is strange, Atsushi winces, and Dazai ponders on the clarity of the memory. 

Ponders if Akutagawa still remembers what it feels like to die. 

“Yeah. You were, Fukuchi he—” It’s his turn to pause, unwilling to go into details. “You saved me,” is what he ends up with. “Everything you did on that ship saved me . The coast guard you didn’t kill bought me enough time that Fukuchi couldn’t catch up to me.” His voice wavers. “Thank you.”  

And Dazai can tell that Akutagawa has no idea what to respond to that — has he ever been thanked before? Dazai doesn’t know, he doesn’t remember ever doing it, anyway. Akutagawa shifts awkwardly, picking at his hair, probably still too dazed to think of a witty retort, so Dazai decides to come to his rescue.  

“We need to get back and start hunting Stoker. We have thousands of people affected by his ability; we need to get a move on. Atsushi?”  

The kid immediately raises his head and takes a good whiff of the air, then grimaces. “Some are getting closer.”  

“The vampires,” Akutagawa says blankly and Atsushi nods again, so Akutagawa glances at Dazai doubtfully. 

“Yup. Blood suckers. We have been calling them vampires though, because it’s self-explanatory.” He stands and smiles, and Akutagawa looks back at him with eyes Dazai isn’t sure he can read properly. He wonders if Akutagawa remembers what he said (I'm not letting you go) and what he did ( kissed him ), and if he does, how much will those admissions — confessions — change between them. “We need to go. Can you stand?”  

(Now is not the time to think about that, maybe once the Decay of Angels is no more, if Dazai doesn’t chicken out of it.) 

He extends a hand to Akutagawa, who stares at it, trying to find the catch. It is another test. If Akutagawa remembers, Dazai thinks, then he’ll take it. If he doesn’t, he’ll get up on his own. Or maybe he’s still too weirded out to think things through. 

The wait isn’t long. Akutagawa is hesitant, but he takes it, and Dazai’s fingers close tightly around his hand to pull him on his feet. 

He still has fangs (seeing him experimentally run his tongue over them makes Dazai’s stomach do a little summersault that is definitely neither fear or worry) and looks like death warmed over. Stoker’s ability might take time to dissipate completely, but beyond that he’s back to normal.

Still, the marks of his latest trial are stark. Face pale, dark bruises under his eyes, and a thick scar on his throat.  

“This isn’t how it was supposed to go.” It’s the closest thing to an apology he’s able to put in words.

Akutagawa scowls. “If I didn’t want to do it, I wouldn’t have.” He narrows his eyes, glaring at Atsushi. “Is the weretiger wearing my coat?” 

“Uh? Oh, yes, he hasn’t left it in days, from what I was told. That's how he found you.” He taps the tip of his nose. “The smell.”

Akutagawa crosses his arms, shivering, his steps still unsure. He seems on edge  — sending little glances around him. He has been dead twice, then hasn’t eaten anything consistent for days. Considering the fourth energy bar in his pocket, Dazai shrugs off his coat. 

“Here.” He drops it across Akutagawa's shoulders. 

“What are you—”

“You looked cold.”

And defenseless, but he will not tell him that, he won’t take it well. For Akutagawa, his coat is both a weapon and an armor, it’s natural that he would feel ill at ease without it.

Sending him a suspicious glare, he pulls it tighter around himself, and Dazai catches himself thinking, as a red spark runs across the fabric, that he quite likes this color on him. 

Atsushi leads them safely through the slums, occasionally having them duck around and hide, while Akutagawa shuffles around under his coat. It takes him a minute to find the snack and he tears it open without bothering to ask Dazai if he can, looking very intently at his own shoes. 

Dazai reaches out to put his arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer, and he is glad to feel him, alive and heart beating, leaning into him. “Come on now,” he says, “let’s go home.” 

[bungou-stray-dingus]

Could I request headcanons of Chuuya with a girlfriend who is shorter than him, plays a lot of instruments(Piano, flute, violin, percussion, I guess singing counts too?) professionally, and is sun allergic? I’m sorry if it’s too much!

FOR BB!! Also hell yeah for marching band!! I miss my marching band days.

I HOPE YOU ENJOY READING THIS AS MUCH AS I ENJOYED WRITING IT!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

High School AU

You sat in the back of the music room, waiting for the teacher to give the signal that it was time to head out onto the field. It was the first game of the season, the Homecoming Game, also known as the most important football game of the year. The sun was still setting, but just there enough to cause your eyes to water and you to start sniffling.

“You alright?” Chuuya came up to you, the drum sticks tried under his arm. He was so cute in his marching band uniform, and you had secretly been crushing on him since the first day you saw him. The two of you had managed to become super close, and you hoped deep down that he would ask you to the homecoming dance.

He waved his hand in front of your face, pulling you out of the daydream daze you were in and you shook your head, giving him an awkward chuckle. “Y-yeah, I’m fine. The sun is just setting off my allergy. Hopefully it’ll be fully set before we go out on the field.” You gave him a sheepish smile and he looked out the window then back to you.

“Oh yeah, do you need a tissue? We can’t afford to lose our best percussionist.” He smiled back to you and you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Uhm, first thing, your flirting sucks, and second, marimba isn’t percussion. Duh.” Dazai’s voice broke through, and you watched as he brought the trumpet up to his lips, trying to play it as he walked closer.

“Dude, shut up! Also, the marimba is definitely a percussion instrument. How did you even make it into this class. Who’s trumpet is that?” Just seeing Dazai had Chuuya on the verge of a fit of rage. His last question was answered when Kunikida ran over to where Dazai was standing, blowing into the mouth piece, producing a bunch of spit but no sound.

“Dammit Dazai, now I’m gonna have to disinfect it.” Kunikida said, snatching the instrument from Dazai’s hands with a look of disgust. “Also, the marimba is definitely a percussion instrument.” He added before walking away, mumbling under his breath about how disgusting it is to use someone else’s mouthpiece.

“I don’t know what his problem is.” Dazai shrugged, then looked down at you. “You look very good in the uniform by the way, Y/N.” His voice was suggestive and if it were possible, Chuuya would have smoke coming out of his ears, he looked so pissed at Dazai’s comment.

“SHE ALREADY KNOWS THAT!” He shouted, smacking Dazai with one of the drumsticks. “Y/N, you look great.” He said, and you dropped your head to try to hide your blushing face.

“Dude, why not ask her out already.” Dazai said, dodging Chuuya’s second hit. “I’m just saying!” He held his hands up as he backed away. “You guys would be soooo cute together.”

“I... He.... heh... let’s get your instrument down to the field?” Chuuya stumbled over his words, obviously put in an awkward situation and he didn’t know how to react at all. “Kenji, give us a hand?” Chuuya called to him from across the room. The saxophone player was rather strong considering his small build. He easily lifted the other end of the instrument with no sign of a struggle, he didn’t even break a sweat.

You sat on the bleachers with Chuuya, waiting for the other members of the band to come out. Chuuya situated himself between you and the light of the setting sun to help keep your eyes from watering. “Are you nervous?” He asked, noticing your fingers tapping nervously against your lap. He placed his hand over yours to keep you from tapping, and you felt the blush rise into your cheeks again. “There’s no need to be nervous, most of these people talk over our playing anyway.”

“I-I’m not nervous, I just...” You noticed he was staring at you, his eyebrows raised, obviously not fooled by your lie. “Alright... maybe I am. But...”

“I’ll be right next to you the entire time.” He whispered, his thumb rubbing circles into the back of your hand. It made your heart rate spike and you tried to keep your heavy breathing to a minimum. “Oh, looks like everyone’s coming down now. Are you ready?” He asked and you nodded quickly.

Everyone lined up on the field, getting into the formation that had been practiced multiple times over the last two months. The sun had finally set, but that was the least of your worries at this point. All the lights, all the eyes on you, it had you sweating profusely. Chuuya looked down at you and noticed how pale you had turned, the tiny beads of sweat that were forming on your forehead considering how chilly it was. “Psst.... hey.” He whispered just loud enough for you to hear. You looked up to him, his smile seemed brighter than any of the lights on the field. “Keep your eyes on me, whenever you feel nervous, just look at me. Okay?” His voice was soothing and you felt yourself relax a little.

You and your instrument were in the center of the field, the rest of the band had circled around you, but you kept your eyes on Chuuya, his red hair peaking out of the hat let you know that it was definitely him. You felt a pair of eyes on the back of your head and you turned around to see that it was Dazai. He licked his lips and winked at you before wrapping his mouth around the mouthpiece of the saxophone. You faced back to your teacher quickly, his hands were in the air as he waited for everyone to get ready. Then they dropped, and the sound of everyone’s instruments filled the field. The band started to move, walking in sync to the rhythm of the music and your eyes focused in on Chuuya, you could pick out the sound of his instrument through the sound of everyone else’s. When his solo came up you couldn’t fight the grin that spread across your face, hearing him play, it was pure talent. His drum solo was absolutely flawless, and you almost missed your time to start playing again, you were so entranced by his playing.

The football game started and the band took their seats at the far end of the bleachers, all the instruments and their cases littered the ground in front of the seats. You were sat between Akutagawa and Chuuya who talked across you about how football was meaningless. The crowd roared when the team scored a touchdown and Akutagawa groaned. “They didn’t cheer like that when we were done playing. They don’t appreciate the art that is playing an instrument.” Chuuya nodded at Aku’s words.

“Well I think we played really well tonight!” Tanizaki chimed in, leaning forward so he was peaking between yours and Chuuya’s shoulders.

“Heck yeah! We were awesome tonight!” Atsushi added, patting Chuuya’s back. “Oh, where’s Ranpo?” Atsushi asked, looking around the bleachers.

“He went to the snack stand. You want to go?” Tanizaki asked and Atsushi nodded. Akutagawa, Kenji, and Kunikida followed behind them.

You shivered as a breeze blew through the stands, and Chuuya wrapped his arm around your shoulder. You leaned against him, he was so warm and you enjoyed the feeling of his arm around you. “Awwww. You guys are so cute. Can you just ask her already!?” Dazai’s voice broke through, ruining the serene moment. You sighed and moved away as Chuuya did a 180 and turned to face Dazai who was sitting two stands up.

“Will you just shut up for once? God, you’re so annoying!” Chuuya argued, and you could see how agitated he was when Dazai just laughed. Chuuya’s cheeks burned red when he turned back around, he was breathing heavy as he tried to control his anger.

“You should just ignore him. He’s trying to make you mad.” Dazai’s laughter ringed in your ears as you tried to help calm Chuuya. He sighed loudly before standing up and stepping over your legs.

“You wanna take a walk?” He asked, waiting for you to follow him. Dazai’s clapping and cheering irked the both of you, and you saw Chuuya clench his fists as he walked a little faster, most likely to get away from Dazai as fast as possible so he wouldn’t punch him.

He held the doors open for you as you walked into the school. The empty building brought peace now instead of the anxiety that usually came along with the over congested hallways. It was quiet, and your footsteps with Chuuya’s seemed to echo down the long halls. Even your breathing seemed to be amplified by the emptiness.

“Chuuya...”

“Y/N...” You both spoke at the same time and you let out an awkward giggle that matched his own. “Oh sorry, you can go first.”

“No, no, what were you going to say?” You asked, stopping at the stairwell and taking a seat on the bottom step. Now that the two of you were alone you could hear your heart beating in your ears, your entire body felt warm as his eyes lingered on your face.

“Are you... uh... going to homecoming?” He asked, refusing to sit down. He was standing in front of you, biting his lip as he waited for your answer. You shook your head no and he smiled a little. “Oh... well... would you maybe want to... I don’t know... go with me?” Your stomach did a somersault as his words registered in your brain.

“Like, as friends?” You asked, hoping that he’d say no. He shrugged and finally took a seat next to you.

“I mean... if you want to go as friends.... but....” He wasn’t able to finish his sentence. The sound of footsteps racing down the hallway startled the both of you.

Tachihara turned the corner and spotted the two of you and he sighed. “Man, teach is freaking out because of you two. We’re about to go on for half time.” He was out of breath from running and you found it hard to hold back your laughter seeing him so flustered.

“Sorry dude, we’re coming.” Chuuya said, stifling his own laughter.

The three of you sprinted through the empty hallways, bursting through the double doors. You took your place on the field where the rest of the band was already in formation. Your teacher scowled at you and Chuuya, but that wasn’t even the worst. Dazai’s smug smirk put you on edge and you couldn’t shake the awkward, uneasy feeling his look gave you.

Chuuya’s words replayed in your mind over and over as you watched him move across the field. What was he going to say after the but? You wished that Tachihara hadn’t barged in at such a bad time, now you were left with the overwhelming feeling of nervousness at Chuuya’s unfinished sentence.

The music faded, and the band ran off the field as the crowd erupted with applause as the football teams sprinted out on the field. Everyone began packing away their instruments, ready to finish up the night and go home. You held Chuuya’s tenor drums as he and Kenji worked to carry in your marimbas. The two walked ahead as you stayed behind talking with Tanizaki and Atsushi who were taking apart their clarinets. “So where were you and Chuuya anyway?” Tanizaki asked, genuinely curious as he was highly worried when they couldn’t find you at first.

“Well... we were-“ You began but Dazai jumped in again.

“You two were probably making out in an empty stairwell. Ha! So cool, didn’t know you had it in you Y/N.” He said, leaning closer to you. “You know if Chuuya won’t ask you out-“

“Shut up Osamu.” You mumbled, pulling away from his whispering lips that were far too close to your ear.

“I like when you say my name like that.” He winked at you before walking away. Akutagawa shook his head as he looked after Dazai.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s just a typical upperclassman. He probably hasn’t even had a girlfriend.” Tanizaki said, patting your shoulder to try to make you feel less upset about what he had said.

“Yeah, he acts like he’s....” You stopped listening to them, you just wanted to get back up to the classroom and put your stuff away so you could go home.

Chuuya was waiting for you next to the door to the classroom, he had already changed out of his uniform, his backpack slung over one arm as he scanned the hallways, his eyes lit up when he spotted you. He took his drums from your hands and took them to the back of the class and you followed him. “You took a while, I was starting to get worried that Dazai got to you until he came up.” He chuckled, but you could hear that the thought alone made him uncomfortable. “I’ll let you get changed.” He reminded you that you were still wearing your uniform and you nodded, grabbing your backpack and heading to the restroom to change.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, suddenly self conscious about the way you looked. You so badly wanted Chuuya to like you, as more than a friend. Whenever you were around him you felt like you couldn’t breathe, he was so perfect and there was nothing more that you wanted than to call him your boyfriend. You didn’t know how he felt though, and you were way too nervous to ask him. You walked out of the bathroom, heading back to the music room to wait for your ride. Chuuya had probably already left, you would never find out what would come after the but. Even if you were to go to homecoming as friends, there was nothing bad about that, you would still be with him... right?

Taking a seat on the piano bench, you dropped your bag to the floor next to you and began playing a song that you had made up on the spot. It started out cheery, lilting and fun, then it slowly turned more solemn, kind of how you felt whenever you were with Chuuya. He was always able to cheer you up, he made you happy, he made you smile, whenever he would hug you it felt like your heart would explode out of your chest. Even with all of that though, you knew that there would never be anything more to your relationship. You would never be able to walk down the halls with your hand intertwined with his, giving him a quick kiss after he drops you off at your class. There would be no cute couple photos taken in photo booths filling the front of your binder.

Your fingers slid from the piano keys and rested by your side. “That was beautiful, I’ve never heard the song before. What song is it?” His voice was soft, he was hoping not to surprise you by coming in, and he was glad that he got to listen to you play. He never knew that you could play the piano, but that was just another thing he could add to the list of things you did that amazed him.

“I uh... I made it up.” You said, turning around in the bench to face him. “I thought you had already left.”

“No... I never got the chance to finish what I was saying earlier.” He rubbed the back of his head nervously, biting his cheek as he thought of how to word what he was going to say next. “I uhm... I didn’t want to just go as friends. I wanted to know if.... maybe you would like to be my girlfriend?” He asked, his voice rising an octave with each word.

You were shocked that he had asked, you had never thought that he felt that way about you. You couldn’t even manage to say yes, so you nodded, you nodded so fast that it made your head hurt. He laughed at your reaction, stepping forward to stand in front of you. He grabbed your hand and pulled you up off the bench, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. It was different from the friendly hug he’d usually give you whenever he saw you in the hallways at school.

“Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to ask you that?” He asked quietly, his lips brushing the top of your head. The feeling sent shivers down your spine and you sighed as you rested your head against his chest.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to ask?”

[goddamnitdazai]

Chasing Moonlight | Chuuya

{ this is a prologue of my new multichapter series for patrons only. I’m uploading this portion for anyone interested in continuing to read the series & to show what work you’d be supporting if you do become one along with multiple one shots posted the last few months to patrons only--> patreon } {Prologue} --                                            11.02 -- Twenty Water; Yokohama’s breathtaking attribute that set the city apart from bustling Tokyo. Just as populated and just as thriving but the endless navy waves gave the illusion of privacy from the rest of the world. Possible danger lurking just beneath the surface and in the middle of the night it was an escape. To a new life, or to end a current one in a peaceful slumber as they float down to the bottom never to return. Everyone knew two things about what resided in Yokohama. The port mafia and the ocean. Frightening criminals blending in with the populace. Ability users--- but nobody could tell until there was a reason and then the explosion would detonate, and it still hadn’t become widespread knowledge unless you belonged to that section of the inhabitants. Every so often the road would vibrate and black smoke the shape of a great beast would eat through buildings like the city build them out of paper. Once, a few years back, there had been a great dragon--supposedly. It felt more like an earthquake, and then it was never mentioned again.

What outsiders didn’t see was how breathtaking the city skyline was glimmering beneath a vibrant moon. Reflecting pigments of gold against the water as it ripples and breaks apart in white-capped waves beneath the speedboat shooting vibrations up your shins. How the wind smelled like salt water with a hint of plum sake and, despite the ownership clearly stated in the name, the mafia didn’t exactly care about people using their ports for recreation. Unless there was something to gain from breaking in. However, the speedboat wasn’t theirs and the liquor wasn’t either. No harm no foul. They were the only ones with a solid reputation to protect in this city anyway. Besides, borrowing was a better word. You had every intention of returning it at some point. Unless it crashed--both were substantially possible outcomes to this little adventure. Vodka, something easier to get than the sake you wanted, but it warmed you in the fall breeze. Numbed your throat, your mind. Sometimes it was easier to accept denial rather than kid yourself into thinking the world’s cruelty was something that could be combated. Luck. Skill. Both relatively hard to acquire. Like the boat--practice made perfect. Music drifts behind you from the speaker wired to Ido’s phone. He’d lose it eventually in the water but he was too drunk and in love with the girl at his side (whoever she was) to care. You smile and inhale the calming scent of salt water letting it comb through your hair wind throwing the long strands wildly behind you. Twinkling lights mimicking a fire set off on the coastline curving along the shore. Ido wouldn’t risk the docks, too stupid. Cameras. Since childhood he tended to tie up the loose ends of your plans while you set them off without knowing the second step. Or third. Or fourth. Balance. That’s what the two of you brought to each other. Soon he would go off to Tokyo. If you weren’t so in love with Yokohama you’d tag along. But nothing beat this view. Inhaling sharply you plop down on the front of the boat empty bottle rolling somewhere under the seats. Both hands on the railings lining the edge of the boat to keep you from twisting sideways into the water as it draws near the coastline. Nearly midnight and not a soul on the beach. Drunkenly you slide off once the boat jerks on the ascending ocean floor leading to the beach. Shoes in hand it takes only a few minutes to wade through the cold water. It jolted you awake. Stole the breath from your lungs and replaced it with minty, ice cold exhales of smoke into the open air. A passing glance. You smile at Ido before parting ways. He and...what was her name? Someone, walk off to a section of beach with lounge chairs to watch the stars. You, left alone wandering up the stairs towards a strip of late night restaurants and bars. Drinking without company was nothing to be afraid of, and people watching in these kinds of places gave the city more personality than one could hope. Most weren’t incredibly crowded, mid-week, salarymen inhabited most of the barstools and tables. Keeping to themselves and their company. Some laughing, some complaining. A few drinking faster than the bartender can pour. Shallow lighting casts the bar in amber leaving the edges of the place shadowed if someone wanted to remain unseen. Music just high enough to hear but low enough you didn’t need to shout. Not that there was anyone to talk to and the red head with the cigarette seemed to be doing enough loud-speaking for that half of the bar to begin with. Attractive, from his profile. You walk behind him noticing how sharp his eyes were at your movement, though the conversation never pauses. Ice blue; different. Wordlessly you plop on a barstool near the corner in his view enough to watch but far enough away you couldn’t hear as much of the conversation. His cheeks were tinted pink already. Cute. Your heel knocks against the wood of the bar, eyes drifting close to listen to the music. Thumb already scrolling through random shit on your phone. His wine glass empties rather quickly; preemptive strike. The sound he makes when the bartender says his next glass is paid for makes you accidentally knock your glass against your teeth. Unexpected, a man that looked like that had to be on the receiving end of endless wine and attention. The wood creaks beneath his weight as he spins to watch you from his peripheral. Did the man next to him just say something about lemons? The ice ball rattles in the glass as more vodka is poured on top. Orange juice afterwards. “Oi,” his voice carries with precision and grace prompting you to turn immediately, “if you’re buying then you shouldn’t be drinking alone.” He states moving his jacket from the empty stool next to him. Blue eyes glossy, but that gaze has you hypnotized. Pathetically quick, too. “I didn’t want to interrupt.” You answer simply, but your legs are already moving. He grins as you sit, swiveling in his stool one elbow propped on the bar top hand already holding a lit cigarette. “Yeah? Being that forward sends mixed signals.” Oh, he didn’t like it slow. Good. Slow got annoying and the night was beautiful. You return his smirk and sip on your drink one leg thrown over the other. “I hate small talk,” the empty glass lands on the bartop softly, “______.” Bills are thrown on the table, enough to cover the entire bar’s drinks. “Chuuya.” He replies eyes skimming you up and down. “I guess we don’t need to waste time then.”  He slips out of the seat first offering you a gloved hand. Unexpected politeness, it made him all the more interesting. You slide off with the help of his hand, heels clicking on the hardwood as you walk towards the door feeling the woosh of air at your side from his jacket being thrown over his shoulders. Hat set on carefully, perfectly you notice, covering a decent portion of striking red hair curling around his face. “Hotel work?” He asks, opening the door for you. Gentleman. More interesting given his loud drunkenness before hand. The scent of pinot noir still lingers as you pass by him into the cool night air. “Yeah, I like walking at night anyway.” You smile at him and push your hands in your pockets. Chuuya walks besides you keeping pace head tilted up to admire the towering buildings surrounding the two of you. Yokohama found its true beauty between midnight and sunrise. “Not afraid of the dark eh?” He smirks, eyes slanting to the side to watch your reaction. You laugh softly and shake your head, shoulder bumping into him when you misstep. One arm shoots out instantly to flatten along the small of your back keeping you up right. “Good.” Chuuya comments pulling a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket tilting them in his hand. “You mind?” Another shake of your head fingers extended out. “Share?” You ask with a smile. Chuuya’s grin spreads as he stops and pulls you out of the center of the sidewalk towards him. Planting the cigarette in his lips eyes focused on you in front of him rather than the orange flicker of the lighter. Butterflies ripple at the pit of your stomach, the smell of his cologne overpowers the autumn air and it’s delicious. Subtle, memorable. Chuuya’s stare seeps through your skin and sticks in your chest. Like watching a star burst to life or a comet light up a pitch black sky. Gentle beauty that both comforted and hit a chord in your chest; there was something hidden beyond the starlight staring back at you, glowing in a color that mimicked the depths of a tropical ocean. The only thing that tears you from his captivating gaze is the cigarette being flipped and placed at the center of your lips. “See something you like?” Chuuya asks teasingly, keeping his hand planted firmly on your back as he pulls his own out. Eyes flitting back to you orange flame licking the air before it ignites the tip. “I wouldn’t have spent money on a drink if I didn’t.” You retort, smoke billowing through your lips as you speak. Chuuya chuckles and clicks his tongue head tilting sharply to the left. Two fingers pointing towards a highrise in the distance. “I’ll repay the favor then.” Chuuya’s voice drops. Thunder striking the earth. Goosebumps pebble up your spine. Oh. It could be that kind of night. You bite the inside of your bottom lip and turn with him continuing your walk. This side of the city had the most late night activity, and was heavily crowded despite it being past midnight. But, Chuuya walked like he owned the city. Shoulders back and head held high, confidence oozing from his features. That fucking smirk made your heart backflip into your throat. He catches you looking, every time, and it rises higher. Cocky. Fuck, it looked good on him too. Idle chatter, even though you didn’t want to bother with it. Didn’t need to rather, but this felt more natural despite both of you knowing how this would start and end. Chuuya’s laugh was addicting. Sweet, and he kept his attention directly on you. Guiding you with ease down the sidewalk and through the crowds of people. Ashing in corners then tossing the butt in proper tray. Little things made him more appealing, as trivial as not littering sounded it was something in the way he purposely timed his drags. Pointing smoke away as he exhaled still listening intently to whatever retort you had for his comment. Like he was keeping the city’s feelings in mind while he smoked on its sidewalks. A gentleman with the mouth of a sailor and the simper of a devil. Beauty--lightening caught in a bottle. Chuuya opens the door for you ushering you in like a proper date would.Brilliant, bright light from the chandelier glimmers over the marble beneath your feet. Swirls of golds and whites following each step in a trail of glistening sheen. Alcohol prompt you to spin just to see if the fragmented glitter followed. In the backdrop Chuuya smiles unintentionally, hand reaching out to secure itself over your wrist. “Elevators this way.” He spins you left completely bypassing the check-in counter. Though, the man at the counter pays no mind to the pair of you walking towards the elongated hallway housing three elevators on each side meant only for hotel guests. You stare dumbly at the doors decorated in faux gold lace on the front skewing the reflection of the mirrors underneath. “What is it you do to have connections to a place like this?” You ask curiously, rocking on the back of your heels. Chuuya bites the side of his cheek. “Finance.” He responds simply, lacing his fingers with yours to pull you into the elevator hand slapping the button before anyone else can join. His teeth glint under the overhead lighting as he pulls your chest flush with his. “And what do you do?” Steal cars. Drive them to Tokyo to sell in Europe and America. “Receptionist at a dealership.” You tilt your head up bumping your nose against his breath warm and fanning down his bottom lip. Chuuya’s eyes snap down to your lips then retreat back to match your gaze. “You haven’t kissed me yet.” “I should fix that then.” Your breath barely escapes your lips before he’s kissing you. Nibbling your bottom lip to pull out a surprised gasp and let his tongue slip in. Soft, teasing. Rolling along the roof of your mouth and behind your teeth. The world spins. All the air stuck in your lungs is ripped out leaving you dizzy. Head rush. Shit, this was too good too fast. When you break to breathe the air is electrified. Snapping tension and heat. Your fingers curl over his shoulders pulling him in for another kiss. And another. Until your lipstick is smeared and he’s tugging you out into the hallway, stumbling back against the wall with his arms cinched around your waist. Biting at your bottom lip, your jawline, back up to your ear then cycling back to your lips. “Room.” He murmurs between nips, spinning with ease on his heels to walk you both backwards down the hallway. When the fuck did he get a key? You follow regardless. Nails sinking in to the back of his jacket unwilling to part with his body. The heat from his skin seemed to engrave itself in yours, warming your blood. Flickers of moonlight streak white from the far window at the end of the hallway through the blinds, painting a stripe over his shoes as Chuuya’s back hits the door. “Card.” He grates, pulling away reluctantly with a dark chuckle. “You look a mess.” He teases, using his sleeve to wipe the lipstick from your chin. “I didn’t expect to be mauled I would have worn my expensive one.” You smirk and nip at his fingers when they pass over your lips, tongue darting out to wet the tips. Chuuya’s eyes darken. Ocean blue beginning to swirl in a hurricane of navy and moonlight. The door opens with a sudden jerk, Chuuya’s hands wrapping around your forearms to yank you inside before his foot kicks the door shut with a loud bang. The full moon hangs low in the sky. Blindingly luminous against the dark celeste sky framed by the arched window and painting the room in white gold. Chuuya leaves the curtains open letting the sky and the city illuminate the bed. Your hands reach his jacket first yanking it down his shoulders in haste while Chuuya merely stops in the center of the room letting you strip him. Kissing you between movements. Leaving his mark on your neck in fresh blossoms of red. Buttons bounce of the floor making the man laugh out loud. Vest thrown somewhere along with his now torn white shirt. Gloves strewn on the bedside and hat already placed on the furthers table near the door with his phone. “You have claws don’t you?” Chuuya purrs the words in your ear voice smoother than silk. You shiver; his grin cooks right. “It’s okay kitten, you can scratch me.”

[musicprincess655]

Ryuu has a few problems with his temper.

It’s not news to him. He’s always been a pot ready to boil over, always just a step from snapping and lashing out. Losing his home and his family to a fire No. 6 started didn’t leave much in the way of humanity, and trying to protect the new family he’d built in the West Block had taken care of the rest.

Even still, Ryuu tends to be calm on a day to day basis. He’s learned to pull his anger out when he needs it, and he’s never needed it in the room he and Gin share. They fight sometimes, of course they do. Sometimes they just look at each other and it’s on. No matter how much they care about each other, they were still children who had to deal with each other without quite knowing how to use their words, and every so often, they’re the same as adults.

But there’s never true anger behind it, just momentary irritation that sometimes can be solved quicker by throwing punches at each other than talking it out. Just siblings being siblings.

Nothing like what Ryuu feels, watching Atsushi cringe away from yet another loud bang from the outside. Chuuya had gotten an idea for using their roof to collect rainwater so they wouldn’t have to keep repairing the line down to the well, and when Chuuya got ideas, they tended to be executed loudly.

Which has all led to Ryuu, trying to enjoy a cup of tea in peace, trying to go through the latest information his robots have brought him from inside No. 6, and entirely distracted every time Atsushi flinches like a bomb just went off. It’s pathetic.

Ryuu refuses to consider that at least part of his anger might be that Atsushi came in earlier from a shift working with Kyouka, laughing with Dazai about something inane. Atsushi formed such an easy friendship with Dazai, something Ryuu himself has tried and failed to do for years. Ryuu has earned Chuuya’s respect over the six years they’ve known each other, but Dazai still withholds approval, and Ryuu craves it all the more.

So when Atsushi flinches so hard he knocks a spare bit of machinery that Ryuu was thinking about using to repair one of his rats off the shelf, breaking it, Ryuu snaps hard.

“Will you fucking stop?” he snarls, throwing the closest thing he has at hand at Atsushi. Which happens to be the pen he was writing with, and it does nothing to soothe his anger, so Ryuu reaches for a heavier book. “Nothing’s coming to kill you, just sit still and stop goddamn flinching!”

“It’s just loud,” Atsushi protests, ducking under the book Ryuu throws at him. Ryuu’s anger bubbles up, scalding and steaming. He gets to his feet, reaching for his knife. Dazai’s favorite or no, Ryuu cannot allow Atsushi to keep ruining the one place he feels safe and calm like this.

“So fucking what?” Ryuu demands, advancing on Atsushi, torn between swiping with his knife and throwing a punch. The knife would be more effective, but the punch would be so much more satisfying. “Leave if it’s that much of a problem.”

“And go where?”

“You think I give a fuck?” Ryuu shoves Atsushi back against the bookcase. Something else falls off, but Ryuu doesn’t have the time to care what it is. “I really fucking don’t.”

“Why are you-”

Atsushi freezes at the same time Ryuu does, cold bite of steel at their throats. Gin stands between them, holding a knife on each other them. If Ryuu wasn’t sure she’d actually cut him just to make her point, he’d flinch. They haven’t annoyed each other enough to pull weapons out in a long time.

“Enough,” she says. “Stop fighting, or I’ll make you stop fighting.”

“But-”

“No buts,” she says, holding the knife to Atsushi’s throat so hard it turns white and presses in, and a bead of blood bubbles over the edge. “Stop.”

She puts her knives away and flops back on her bed. Ryuu isn’t sure exactly what she’s doing. Some kind of tinkering, something that might maybe be a gun. Gin prefers knives, they both do, but a gun can offer a different kind of option, and they’re rare as hell out here. The best choice is to make one, and Gin’s been trying on and off for years to learn. This might be one of her new prototypes.

Ryuu flops back on the couch that doubles as his bed with a huff. He’d be doing just fine if Atsushi wasn’t here, projecting anxiety all over the place. The nervous energy he exudes is setting Ryuu on edge, and he can’t really be blamed for lashing out.

Atsushi sits on the chair he’s been sleeping on, picking up one of the robots.

“Hey, Cravat,” Atsushi says. “Doing good work?”

“Stop naming my fucking robots, Jinko,” Ryuu snaps. He keeps a tight lid on his anger, though. Gin will only warn him once.

“They’re so lifelike, though,” Atsushi says.

“Then at least give them better names,” Ryuu says. “Cravat, seriously? What even is that? Name them something strong, like Rashomon.”

“That can be the black one,” Atsushi says. “Rashomon. Rashomon. It sounds like a demon.”

It’s about the most civil Ryuu and Atsushi have managed to be with each other. At least Atsushi finally settles down, and it sounds like Chuuya’s called it quits for the day. Ryuu finally settles into the zone, focusing on his task, when something that’s not quite the right color catches the corner of his eye.

Atsushi had waved one of his hands, beckoning one of the robots over, and there’s a big black spot on his palm.

“What’s on your hands?” Ryuu asks. Is there a motor oil leak somewhere? If Gin spilled that again, it really will be a fight, because that’s a bitch and a half to clean up, and he’s not doing it.

Atsushi turns his palm, brows furrowed in confusion, before his eyes fly wide open in fear and what Ryuu thinks might even be realization. He slowly raises his hands to touch the back of his neck, and as soon as he does, he lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

Gin flies to her feet, and Ryuu flies to Atsushi. He shoves Atsushi roughly around, trying to see what’s on his neck. Is there something in the air? Are they all in danger?

“Cut it out,” Atsushi says through gritted teeth.

“What?”

“You have to cut it out of me.”

“Go get Dazai-san and Chuuya-san!” Ryuu yells at Gin. She doesn’t question him for a second, sprinting from the room. “Jinko, tell me what’s happening. What am I cutting out of you?”

“It’s going to kill me!” Atsushi screams, and he jerks away from Ryuu. Ryuu shoves him down on the bed, trying to get his knife in his hand as he holds Atsushi’s bucking body down.

“Jinko, I don’t know what’s happening, but hold still,” Ryuu commands. Atsushi seems to know what this is, even if Ryuu doesn’t, and if he says to cut something from the back of his neck, Ryuu will listen this once.

Atsushi twists, wailing in pain again, arms flailing like he might be able to reach for something to stop his pain. Ryuu flings a leg over Atsushi’s waist, using his ankles to dig into Atsushi’s calves. He has to use both of his arms to hold down Atsushi’s, knife dangerously close to Atsushi’s wrist, and Atsushi screams once more into the bed.

“Stop!” Ryuu shouts. “I can’t cut anything out if you’re fighting me.”

Atsushi isn’t using his body to its full advantage, but even so, he’s stronger than Ryuu, and it’s all Ryuu can do just to hold him down.

“Jinko, stop fighting me,” Ryuu says. “I’m going to help you, but I need you to hold still.”

Atsushi thrashes again.

“Hold still.”

Atsushi’s fists clench in the sheet, muscles shifting under Ryuu’s hands.

“Good.”

Ryuu gets to work, cutting open the back of Atsushi’s neck. His knife isn’t really suited for this – a scalpel would be better – but it’s what he has, and if he gets up off Atsushi to go look for the first aid kit, Atsushi will probably just start moving again.

If Ryuu isn’t careful, he could slice down too far and sever Atsushi’s spinal cord. The thought only occurs to him later. Now, he’s too caught up in the momentum of trying to follow Atsushi’s instructions to cut something from the back of his neck.

There’s a black mark on the back of Atsushi’s neck, same as the ones on his hands. Atsushi whimpers into the mattress as Ryuu spreads the cut apart, trying to see what’s inside.

A line is burning its way down Atsushi’s arms, making a pink line of burst blood vessels that almost looks like a snake. Ryuu doesn’t pay it any attention. He’s reaching into the cut, ignoring the risk for infection right now, and his fingers close on something round and hard. He pulls it out, and Atsushi’s body goes limp.

Ryuu stares at the thing in his hands. It almost looks like a half-formed pupa, an insect that wasn’t entirely ready to hatch. What was this doing under Atsushi’s skin? Was this some new horror No. 6 was inflicting on them?

“Jinko, what is this?” Ryuu asks, voice gone quiet. Atsushi doesn’t answer. He probably can’t. He did just have his neck cut open, after all.

Gin bursts back into the room, Dazai and Chuuya hot on her heels. Dazai takes one look at Ryuu pinning Atsushi down and his eyes harden.

“What did you do?”

Ryuu’s mouth drops open. He’s supposed to defend himself here, he knows, but he can’t find the words. He actually did the right thing here, at least by Dazai’s standards. He did exactly what Atsushi told him to do, and as far as he can tell, it worked.

“Saved me.” Ryuu turns back to where Atsushi is apparently awake enough to mumble. “He saved me.”

Ryuu is both furious and exhausted. He stands, leaving Atsushi’s limp body behind. Dazai opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Ryuu throws the pupa at him.

“This was in his neck,” Ryuu says. “It was killing him. I cut it out. He’ll need stitches.”

That’s all Ryuu says, because if he keeps talking, he’ll say something he’ll regret later. He’ll yell at Dazai for assuming the worst of him, just like always, when it wasn’t remotely justified. And Ryuu is just too tired for it now. He feels drained.

He needs to leave.

He pushes past everyone to leave through the open door.

“Oi, Ryuu-” Chuuya starts, but Ryuu ignores him. He’ll regret that later. He knows he will. But he’s done here. Everyone else can patch up the new golden boy Ryuu just saved. They don’t need him around for that.

[weakeninghope]

I’m only happy when it rains

Pairing: Osamu Dazai/Chuuya Nakahara

Rating: Teen

AO3 link here

Summary:  He’s only happy when it’s complicated.

Notes: Hello, it's been a while. I'm back to apologize to the people I hurt in this fandom. I wasn't in a good mood and I know I hurt a lot of people, so I stopped writing for this fandom since I was ashamed and didn't want to show my face here again. People were right, I was subcounciously trying to make people pity me. But that's over. I'm writing again and I have to finish my pending requests and I'm on my path to recovery (I have depression and anxiety and I relapsed a few days ago, but I’m better now). I hope to write for this ship again! In fact, I have a sequel with grown-up Soukoku in mind heheI hope you accept this. I love Soukoku so much I had to write something about them again. Please enjoy!Comments and kudos are much appreciated <3love you all, weakeninghope on tumblr / Bloss. Please consider that I’ve been a lot without writing soukoku, so this might be oocc

fic under the cut! 

Chuuya Nakahara hated rainy days. He decided that an unlucky afternoon he had to run an errand by Kouyou-neesan and forgot his umbrella. The latter always scolded him about being too hotheaded and forgetful, that this would someday end up putting him in trouble. And she wasn’t wrong; Kouyou-neesan wasn’t usually wrong, Chuuya thought, under the roof of some store of Yokohama, trying not to become even more drenched that what he already was.

 He’d hate the idea of his favorite hat, gloves and clothes becoming wet, annoyingly sticking to his skin. Rainy days never mattered too much to him anyway, even though he liked writing and had his own poetry book and people said rainy days were inspiring, but Chuuya never found them particularly interesting, neither he hated them. Almost every time he left the Port Mafia HQ was with Kouyou-neesan, who made sure that the redhead was carrying an umbrella. Those days were okay, despite the skies being grey and the air smelling of wet ground. He liked the sound of the rain when he was indoors though, despite making him remember how lonely he was.

 Sure, there was Yumeno, but he had to babysit him too often and he was becoming tired of being his official babysitter, so he evaded this responsibility every time he could, even if it meant going out for groceries without an umbrella, alone, having to wait for hours and hours until the rain ceased to impact the ground.

 That day, Chuuya had already been waiting for an hour under the roof of the store, hearing all kind of chitchat, from teenagers a bit older than him talking about pretty girls (Chuuya wasn’t interested on that, he preferred a fine wine, if you asked him) to older women talking about their children. Chuuya was done with that crap, he just wanted to go home and write or complain to Kouyou-neesan about having to be his errand boy even if it mean having to leave HQ because the woman wanted to eat an apple.

The rain didn’t seem to stop when a dark, aloof appearing boy entered the store. He was covered in bandages and had an eyepatch. His dark clothes were also drenched, sticking to his skin; Chuuya could easily deduce how skinny he was. The mysterious boy seemed to eye Chuuya a lot, never keeping his stare away from him. He even placed himself at Chuuya’s side.

More people ended up entering the store as time went by and the rain didn’t seem to stop, so the boy had to get closer to him, and Chuuya could feel the disgusting feeling of the wet bandages clinging to him.

 He had had enough.

 “Wait here!” he angrily shouted as he left his spot and wandered around the store until he found a few bandage rolls. He bought them all, and when he returned to his spot, he angrily tossed them at the boy next to him.

 “Put those when you get home, but for now stay way from me.” Chuuya let go. Having a wet boy next to you wasn’t something you’d like to experience on a Friday afternoon. The thing was, there was something in that boy that had Chuuya wanting to compulsively wanting to take care of him. He even suspected that they’d see each other again soon.

 “Thank you so much! I see you’re a good person despite your disgusting taste in clothing.” The boy said with a smirk. Chuuya was starting to regret having helped him.

 “D-disgusting?! You are disgusting! Return MY bandages to me, you bandage wasting device!” Chuuya shouted while moving between the crowd to get even closer to the boy spreading out his arms to grab the bandages to no avail, because the dark haired was having a great time laughing and mocking Chuuya about him being too slow.

 That was the breaking point for the redhead. If there was something he didn’t stand was someone mocking him or telling him he was slow; he wasn’t training to become a Port Mafia executive for a bandage sucker to tell him that he was “slow”. He wasn’t slow, he was just drenched and any wrong move could be the end of him.

 He remembered Kouyou-neesan’s advice about not moving too much when the floor was wet too late, since he ended up falling on top of the bandage looser.

 “You wanted to touch me so badly?” The boy asked mockingly, moving his hands with the clean bandages in front of Chuuya’s eyes, as if he was showing him that he had won the battle.

 “Shut up! I didn’t spend my money on you for you to mock me!” Chuuya countered, becoming completely oblivious of the looks and rumors the people on the store were giving and spreading about the wrestling kids.

 A few minutes after that, Chuuya separated himself from the mysterious boy and got up from the floor. That was when he realized that he could have bought a new umbrella instead of spending his money on some ungrateful jerk who hadn’t even bothered to thank him properly.

 However, he wasn’t in need of an umbrella anymore, since the skies were clearing and people were living the store. At that, Chuuya also left while sticking his tongue to the other boy while he said “see you never, you bandage freak!”.

 Turns out see you never didn’t become a reality, much to Chuuya’s chagrin. The day after the rainy event, Kouyou-neesan asked for his presence and the main hall of the Mafia HQ, since Mori, the boss, was there with Yumeno and another boy.

 The boy from the previous day.

 Oh shit, Chuuya thought.

 The boss introduced the boy as Osamu Dazai, and Kouyou introduced Chuuya to him.  Dazai didn’t say anything to Chuuya, he just smiled a mocking smile and tended a bandaged arm to him. With a click of his tongue and a look of disgust, Chuuya accepted Dazai’s hand.

 The touch of the dry bandages covering Dazai’s hand sent an inexplicable warmth all around Chuuya’s body.

 --

A few months passed since he met Dazai, and he was already accustomed to his antics. He would always burst in his room by climbing through the window, or would annoyingly known until Chuuya let him in… Chuuya learned to close the window and to never let Dazai enter his room and let him stay alone there since that day he went to the bathroom and found his hat collection burnt to ashes when he came back.

 The day after he did so, though, Dazai bought him a new hat, claiming that it wasn’t “as horrible as the ones he used to wear”. Chuuya blushed a little.

 Chuuya enjoyed, from the very depths of his heart, spending time with Dazai. He didn’t know if he could consider him a friend, but he felt… relaxed? Around him. Even if deep inside he knew he shouldn’t. Kouyou-neesan always told him that in his world, attachment was the thing he needed to fear the most.

 But Chuuya didn’t tend to follow Kouyou-neesan’s advices (if he had, he wouldn’t have seen himself under the roof of a store on a cold, rainy day) and began hanging out with Dazai almost every day. Since they were in the Mafia and Dazai had to train, too, they decided to train together. (It wasn’t like Chuuya decided it and dragged Dazai away with it, like, at all).

 Chuuya liked training in a forest-like area that was surrounding the Mafia Headquarters. They weren’t so far away from Yokohama, but there still was this place to train in (Chuuya also went there when he felt particularly inspired and felt like a bird in a cage in his room).

 “We should train a bit, Dazai.” Chuuya stated while looking at his… at Dazai. The redhead still didn’t know what to consider him, but they talked to each other and Chuuya liked that, so he guessed that nothing would happen if he used the word “friends” right?

 “Oh why, Chuuya? Look at the sky.” Dazai asked pointing at the big, grey cloud lurking above them.

 “What’s wrong with the sky?” Chuuya asked.

 “It could rain at any moment. Are you the melancholic time that’s only happy when it rains? I do like the smell of wet ground, though.” Dazai singsonged in a mocking tone.

 “That’s disgusting. You’re disgusting. You still owe me three rolls of bandages, you shitty Dazai.” Chuuya countered, remembering their first encounter.

 “Hey hey, watch your mouth you hat rack, you’re only 13 years old.” Dazai stated, ignoring the fact that they were both the same age.

 “So are you!” Chuuya shouted while he printed straight to where Dazai was, delivering a punch to his cheek and making him crash to a tree.

 “Hey what’s up, wasn’t’ I the slow one of the two? I think I’m not anymore!” Chuuya bragged. He knew he was  pretty strong despite his age.

 Dazai dropped his cloak and punched Chuuya too taking advantage of the gloating redhead’s distraction. Their afternoon went by and their training ended up in Chuuya on top of Dazai again, in the murky water, since it had started raining again. Both were laughing like what they were, young children.

 Perhaps Dazai was right and Chuuya was only happy when it rained and when Dazai was in the ecuation.

 That day Chuuya realized two things: Dazai’s genuine laughter was angelic and it looked like the redhead had a little crush on him.

 Fuck.

--

Two years after that, Chuuya found the right word to use when describing what his relationship with Dazai was (even though he still had a crush on him). They were partners. Mori-san assigned them together for every mission, and from that day onward, they even started sleeping in the same room. Their trainings became less of a hobby and more of an obligation, since they needed to be perfectly in synch.

 It had been two years sin he’d met Dazai and since Chuuya still missed a lot of his patterns and way of thinking, he was 100% accustomed to him, his smirks, his quiet laughs, his rare, but absolutely blinding smiles… At the age of fifteen, Chuuya Nakahara was in love. With his partner. His partner, someone he’d had to see every day, sleep next to every night, work with every day and on some occasions every night. They were ordered to always be together. But what relationship there was with being in synch with Dazai having to follow Chuuya went he wanted to go out for a snack? It wasn’t like Chuuya didn’t approve that, though. Well, he did not approve that when he bought mackerel sandwiches and then got too cloe to Chuuya, as if wanting to kiss him.

 (Chuuya found himself wanting to kiss Dazai, but not that way, for fuck’s sake.)

 They were a pretty good team. They nailed all the missions they were sent to,until one day they defeated an entire enemy organization in one night. From that day onwards, they began to be feared and be called “Double Black”. Some of the missions they carried on happened on rainy days, some of them didn’t, that wasn’t a decisive factor at all, since they found themselves winning at every occasion. The night they defeated the enemy organization on their own though, it was raining, and Chuuya had to use the “secret side” of his ability: Corruption. He had to use dark holes engulfing everything in his way, he lost consciousness and his body became a vessel of darkness. The only thing that could bring him back to reality was Dazai, subtly holding his hand while he tenderly whispered “rest now, Chuuya” in his ear.

 At first, Chuuya thought rain wasn’t a decisive factor. But when Dazai took care of him and next day they woke up and it was raining again, he realized it was. He felt sore all over, and Dazai mocked him, but… he patched him up.

 They always patched each other up after missions; they healed each other’s wounds, or sometimes they made them ache even more when someone was sloppy and touched where they shouldn’t.

 A few days after that, on another rainy day (well, night) they went drinking after a successful mission, they had their first kiss.

Chuuya felt like he was in a movie, shivering, being kissed under the rain. Dazai’s bandages were gross, they were drench, his lips felt cold, but Chuuya felt the happiest he had ever felt in ages. Feeling pretty bold, Chuuya licked Dazai’s lips asking for permission, which the other granted by opening his mouth. They stayed kissing under the rain for a few minutes.

 A week after that they had to withdraw from their missions for a few days since they caught a cold.

 But Dazai was right, he was always right, and Chuuya hated that. When he let go some depressing remark or when he planned a strategy, he was right. And when he said Chuuya’s only happy when it rains, he was also right.

 Because when, a year later, Dazai got promoted to being an executive and he and Chuuya started arguing and spacing out, it was sunny.

 Because when Dazai left when he was 18 years old and Chuuya found himself alone, it was sunny.

 And the sun burnt Chuuya’s soul and broke his heart.

[izanyas]

Build Upon The Ruins (7)

Pacfic Rim Soukoku fic, again, 

Rating: M Words: 7,700 No warnings.

[Read from Chapter 1]

Build Upon The Ruins Chapter 7

Dazai woke up with a smile, to the sound of the kaiju alarm ringing loudly through their room and to the unmistakable groan Chuuya reserved for nightly attacks. He was up in a second, rolling sideways out of the bed and then stretching his body up until his spine cracked pleasantly.

"Your bones are disgusting," Chuuya said into his pillow.

"We can't all be made of chewing gum," Dazai replied. He grabbed the top bed's metal railing with one hand and shook it until Chuuya glared at him with one sleep-crusted eye, hair in disarray, face still pressed onto the sheets. "Come on," he said more gently. "They're waiting for us upstairs."

"Fuck," Chuuya mumbled, but he was sitting up. He stared at the ladder near his feet for a second before deciding to forget it entirely and simply jump to the floor.

Dazai didn't mind, despite the stupidity of it. Far from it. Chuuya's sleeping attire consisted of underwear and a T-shirt, and even as he grabbed water from the fridge it was Chuuya's legs he was staring at, unbothered.

Chuuya rolled his eyes when he noticed—he snatched the bottle from Dazai's hands before he was finished and drained the last half of it, crumpled the plastic one-handed, and threw it into the trash. Then he walked into the bathroom with a glance that told Dazai just how aware he was of Dazai's trail of thoughts.

Dazai was still grinning as he shoved himself into the first pair of clean pants he found and the previous day's shirt. The screen above his desk was alight, running with numbers and orders and the automated summoning message. He read them while waiting, letting his mind adjust to wakefulness and his body to the Alaskan base's cold.

"What're we up against?" Chuuya asked, emerging from the bathroom. His hair was tied down on his neck, the sleeves of his own shirt pulled up at the elbows.

Dazai let his eyes drag along Chuuya's arms as he answered, "Category three, about twenty kilometers off the coast. Almost as big as Hammerhead."

"Only twenty kilometers?" Chuuya leaned closer to the screen, squinting. "How come they didn't notice it sooner?"

"Because the mother of all storms is raging outside," Dazai replied, and then he could only laugh as Chuuya groaned, "Fucking great."

The base was thrumming with activity. People ran around with fear in their hearts, as they always would for as long as kaiju would attack; but Dazai knew that his and Chuuya's presence for the last six months since they had flown in from Hong Kong had eased some of that. They were greeted with hopeful smiles, with grateful shouts. It made Chuuya stand taller as he walked. No longer hunched over like someone in hiding.

He couldn't help but mirror it—couldn't help but feel excited even against the odds they would face. In a few minutes there would be nothing separating him from Chuuya at all.

It was with this thought in mind that he let himself be dressed for piloting. He watched Chuuya peel off the shirt he had just put on so they could slide the black sleeves of the suit up his arms, and his eyes lingered on the evidence of strength that the flowers never masked. The muscles and sharp bones outlined cleanly by his skin.

"See something you like?" Chuuya commented. He wasn't looking at Dazai, but there was the hint of a smile at his mouth, the whisper of heat on his voice.

"I always do," Dazai answered lowly.

The spine of the suit clasped into place at his back, painful, wakening.

"If you're quite done," Kouyou said, stepping into the changing room. They both turned to look at her. "The conditions outside are terrible—this is more of a hurricane than a storm, lads. You might be fighting blindly."

"Oh, is that all?" Dazai said mockingly.

"No," she replied, unsmiling. "We've managed to alert most of the ships we knew of, but reports say one of them is still out. You are not to compromise the mission to save them."

"Cold," Chuuya let out.

His eyes flashed toward Dazai; the same idea flashed through both their heads.

By then Dazai barely needed any help to suit up or strap himself to his station. He let the aides do it for him anyway, knowing protocol as much as they did. Warmth was pooling inside him despite the cold of the base with every second that brought him closer to the neural handshake; he was so aware of Chuuya at his right, so conscious of every breath Chuuya drew in, that it felt almost as if they were already drifting.

"You guys ready?"

Dazai saw Chuuya grin as he brought a finger to the controls to answer, "Sasaki. How went the hot date last night?"

"Terribly," she replied, dry as stone. "Now shut up and let me drown my sorrow by making sure you two don't make our readings implode again, Nakahara."

"You do that." He glanced at Dazai, mirth over his lips, handsome even through the unappealing yellow of the helmet's visor. "We're ready."

"Initiating neural handshake."

Dazai was out of himself almost before the drift could jostle him the right way; he was meeting Chuuya the moment it took on, mind spreading around and in his, and Chuuya fit himself as he always did—right where Dazai's mind opened into the shape of him.

Dazai breathed in slowly, like he only ever breathed when Chuuya's lungs moved with his. Air tasted different in the midst of drifting. Like it was actually meant to make life livable.

"All right," he said, body languid with heat, heart beating heavily. He opened his eyes. "Does this big boy have a name?"

"Fawk," Sasaki replied. "Three point eight tons. I think it has feathers. It's been moving slowly so far."

"Piece of cake. You guys start working on the medal while we take care of it."

"Arrogant bastard," Chuuya muttered, fingers busy onto the main control panels. "Did you forget the part about the hurricane?"

"I did, in fact," Dazai replied truthfully. "I had more interesting things to think about."

Dazai let Chuuya pick at the memories of the last few minutes, of himself as Dazai saw him: soft face and wild hair as he woke, hard muscles running under painted skin. The ever-bright wonder of his mind melded into Dazai's, braided together like threads in a tapestry.

"Get your mind out of the gutter," Chuuya said, but his smile was soft on Dazai's lips.

Double Black's head dropped to reattach to its body now that its pilots were in place. They couldn't be lifted out in this kind of weather; they walked out through the giant doors of the base and directly onto the beach, then into the water. Every step pushed forth by them and every breath shared between them.

It really was a hurricane. Wind slammed into them from all sides, not enough to still them but enough to make moving harder. Their thighs started aching only five minutes in, and still the kaiju was nowhere to be seen. The rain and clouds made it too hard to see anything from cameras alone; they relied on readings, linked their sights together so that information flew between them both as if they shared one brain only. There was no delay to it at all. It was as easy as thinking on one's own.

"There's our boat," Dazai murmured.

It shone bright on the radars despite its small size. A fisherman's boat. No more than ten people aboard, probably.

"What are they even doing here in this weather?" Chuuya asked.

"Capitalizing on the fact that no one else is brave enough to fish right now. Or stupid enough. They probably went out before the storm and got stuck on their way back."

"Who the fuck braves a hurricane and a kaiju just for fish…"

They fell silent as something else showed on the readings—something as big as an island, moving like no island could.

Chuuya deployed the blade wordlessly, fingers tightening over the right hemisphere's calibration device as it would a real knife. He was used to handling knives. His life was full to bursting of memories of stabbing and memories of being stabbed, his body littered with scars. It was the kind of violence Dazai had never experienced but felt familiar with all the same.

They walked slowly through the screaming wind, legs heavy with the weight of the jaeger. Fawk kept swimming toward them leisurely, not deviating once, heading straight for the tiny boat. Once they were close enough, Dazai leaned forward with the full of their backs; he wrapped Double Black's left hand around the width of the boat and picked it up—smiling curtly when the cabin became visible and he saw the terrified faces of the men holed in it—and then the kaiju stood on its legs and roared.

Chuuya stabbed it instantly through the shoulder. In the precious few seconds it took for the beast to recover, Dazai let the boat fall back behind them and toward the beach. Hopefully they'd find a way to make land without drowning in the process.

"Dazai," Chuuya said.

"I know," he replied.

The cannon heated up in his palm as Chuuya breathed with both their lungs. This time, when the kaiju threw itself at them, Dazai shot it through the stomach.

"I can't see shit," Chuuya said between his teeth as the thing squirmed away through the water. His breathing was deep and easy despite the tension Dazai could feel up his spine. He made his own back relax, his own shoulders roll, and the jaeger's with them; Chuuya sighed from it, gratitude settling warmly in his stomach.

"We'll be fine," Dazai said then. "Just keep an eye on the signals—it doesn't matter if we can't see."

"I never know if you're confident or just stupid."

"Maybe I'm both," Dazai replied, thinking of nothing but the drift, nothing but the thrum and beauty of Chuuya's soul.

Chuuya huffed. "This isn't really the—Dazai!"

Dazai was not a second too late; Fawk's beak-like face rammed into his arm instead of his side, but the clean snap of bone above his elbow wasn't reassuring so much as overwhelmingly, sharply painful, and Chuuya shouted from it just as he did.

"Fuck!" Chuuya roared, furious like he only ever was when wounded. "You bitch—"

He took control away from Dazai entirely as Dazai tried to regain his focus; stepped back and sideways, brandished the blade in their right arm too late—Fawk gripped them by the shoulders and buried its hind knees into their ribs.

Chuuya's anger sang through Dazai, smoldering, aching. He struck Fawk with their right elbow so hard that Fawk's leather-like skin split open from it. The kaiju howled into the night, loud enough to be heard above the sounds of the hurricane.

"Are you okay?" Chuuya asked breathlessly as soon as Fawk ran off.

Dazai sucked in a breath before answering. "Yeah, I—I think it's just my arm."

"Your arm and our ribs. Fucking hell."

Every breath they drew in hurt. Every movement of their shoulders and backs as well.

"Is it dead?" Chuuya said lowly.

"I can't tell. Not without visual confirmation." Dazai forced himself to touch the screen in front of him, mind hazy with pain from his arm. Already, though, the confusion was wearing off. He was too familiar with this sort of injury to be too affected by it. "Looks like it's still moving," he muttered, eyeing the bright yellow shape on the radar.

"How? Fucker already looks like Swiss cheese."

"Aliens, Chuuya," Dazai replied, but the joke fell flat in light of how serious he now felt. "Well, it'll probably come in from the left. You should keep the sword up."

"If I do that and it comes from the back we'll be sitting ducks," Chuuya replied.

It wasn't a light-hearted counter. They could only use one arm now. Chuuya had grown cold with tension, body stretched like a rubber band, Dazai's efforts from earlier gone. He kept the blade-arm down.

"It'll come at us from the left," Dazai repeated. His eyes never left the wide screen of the visor, the one that showed only snow and tall waves. "It knows we're weakened there."

He felt Chuuya struggle for a second more, protest burning at his lips. He was too used to Dazai being right, though. Too used to Dazai's words becoming prophecy.

Too used to trusting Dazai wholly, with every fiber of their shared being.

He raised the blade. Pointed it to their left in preparation. Dazai charged the cannon much the same, though he couldn't raise his arm. In those seconds he still reveled in the anger Chuuya felt on his behalf, the genuine worry that he was more hurt than he let on, so unlike anything anyone had ever felt for a lowlife like him; he warmed himself to them, soul soaked with a bond that needed neither words nor touch. Heart flush with the certainty that he was where he was supposed to be.

Fawk came in from the right.

Dazai could do nothing at all. The loaded weapon in his palm pointed at blurry flying snow, at unstoppable waves. The knowledge of it settled into him, sped up by terror and understanding, and his mouth was open with it—with a warning, with a scream, with Chuuya's own fright threaded through his whole self, right as the kaiju's raised fore leg struck down from the sky and sliced clean through them both.

He barely felt the violence of the hurricane that shoved through the hole it had opened. Fawk's claws broke into the skull, its palm opening to encompass the right half of the cockpit, and then it flattened it onto the floor, taking everything.

Taking Chuuya.

Dazai never felt himself unload the cannon into the beast's heart. He never heard himself scream because he didn't scream at all—he moved with his mouth open on nothing as he butchered it, and even the rage, even the anger of two lives couldn't mask the fact that his heart had stopped dead.

Fawk died in utter silence. The waves carried its corpse out and dragged the foot it had plunged into the head of the jaeger with it.

Dazai saw Chuuya's body stuck under the metal; the broken helmet whose glass had opened his temple and spilled blood over the floor; his hair flying red over his closed eyes.

"No," he said.

In the empty drift, he discovered agony.

"No. No, no, no no no—"

"Dazai? We can't see Nakahara, what is going on—"

Dazai never answered—he begged, out loud and not, horror crawling up his veins more strongly than the pain of piloting alone did. His back screamed and his knees bent and his nose spilled blood over his lips, and still the only word in him, mouth and mind alike, was No.

"Chuuya," he sobbed.

The jaeger trembled around him. The wall Chuuya was stuck under slid because of it—Chuuya dragged down with it, trailing blood over metal. He didn't even twitch.

"Dazai."

Kouyou.

"We aren't getting his vitals." Her voice shook, but he couldn't care, could barely notice it at all. "Is he breathing?"

I don't know.

"Dazai," Yosano,"is he still inside? What can you tell me?"

"He's—" Dazai's heart bruised against his ribs, empty and cold for lack of Chuuya's beats. His back and head burned from the load of the single drift. "He's, he's stuck under—I can't—"

"Okay. Okay. Dazai, listen, we can't fly to you in this weather."

He knew that.

He knew it the way he knew how to breathe; fleetingly, automatically, emptily. But breathing was of no importance when he couldn't break out of his restraints to run to Chuuya's side and make sure he was still—

"You need to bring him to us," Kouyou said into the line. "We'll have everything ready."

"I can't," he said numbly.

He could barely keep the jaeger standing. He felt barely alive.

"You can. Please," and it was her turn to sob, to shatter in a way he hadn't known she could. "Please bring him home."

Dead or alive, she didn't say. Bring him home.

Dazai spat bile into the inside of the helmet. He had no air left in him, none at all. His soul burned from being torn open and his chest was still as a dead body's; he was watching Chuuya when he pushed through all of it to take the first step, and he sobbed again as it jostled him, as he saw Chuuya shake from the wind and the sea and the motion.

Please, he thought, with every agonizing step. With every breath of salted air. Please.

He walked twenty kilometers alone in the body of the jaeger, easing into every movement so that blood would stop spilling out of the wound in Chuuya's head and being washed up by the sea. Chuuya's face was pale. He didn't move at all. Dazai kept searching the drift anyway for any sign of him; coldness answered back every time, crueler than physical pain.

"You're almost there," Yosano said in his ears, voice thin. "We have teams ready on the beach. Whatever you do, don't move him, okay? Don't try to pull him out. Wait for the—"

Dazai was struggling out of the harnesses the moment Double Black's feet came out of the water. He ripped himself from his station with Chuuya's name bursting from his lips, tearing the spine of the suit off painfully, shaking his broken arm—he ran across the slippery floor with the suit's heavy boots and fell to his knees alongside Chuuya's left side, the side of him not caught under debris.

His left leg looked broken. His shoulder dislocated. The rest of him was hidden under metal, completely stuck. Dazai tried to hover his shaking fingers above Chuuya's mouth, but the strength of the wind made it impossible to know if he was breathing at all.

Please.

He didn't try to touch his neck. He circled his fingers around Chuuya's wrist, pulled off the glove he wore finger by finger. Then he pressed his index into the crook of it, against ice-cold skin. Against heart-shaped petals.

The pulse he found there traveled through his own chest.

Dazai cried without daring to move. He waited for the medics to climb the side of the jaeger without feeling anything except for that slip of living skin, that inch of feeble hope. He spilled tears over the blood he was kneeling in and let Kouyou's calls go unanswered. He counted each slow beat of Chuuya's heart against his fingertip. He let the searing emptiness in his mind soothe itself with it until the wound there felt a little less raw.

He refused to leave Chuuya's side, not even as he was being freed of the fallen wall and carried to a stretcher on the crane standing outside, not even as he recoiled from the sight of his mangled right leg; he stayed with him all the way to the only hospital still standing in Anchorage and had to be restrained so Chuuya could be sent to surgery alone, despite his own broken bones.

It was Yosano who sedated him. Who held his hand with her shaking ones until he lost consciousness. Who swept the hair out of his face and promised him that she would try her best with tears in her eyes.

Please, Dazai thought for the thousandth time, standing at the cusp of sleep. I can't lose him.

--

Dazai had been sure of very few things in his life.

One of them had been his own death, for as long as he had been old enough to appreciate the concept for what it was. He knew he would live his life leaving very little behind himself as proof of his existence. He grew even surer of it at fourteen years old, when the first kaiju made land in San Francisco and set the world's panic afire.

He wasn't sure how long he would survive. Even after meeting Oda and experiencing being valued and loved for the first time, the certainty of death clinged to him like a ghost. Dazai went through the motions of life and did not feel human, or good, or bad. Morals' hold on him was thin; Dazai followed his heart not out of its goodness, but out of what would lead him to the path of least pain.

Dazai's second absolute and all-encompassing certainty was found in the drift, in Chuuya's open mind, in his twin thirst for belonging. He knew the word for it and never spoke it, because there was no need to.

There had never been any need to.

Two days after Chuuya woke up, the day after his last surgery, he found the very last thing he was sure of.

"They found a match for Akutagawa," he said, balancing a tablet into the crook of the cast than ran up to his shoulder.

They had been moved back to the base after the first round of surgeries—after Yosano had kept Chuuya alive, as promised.

Chuuya's answer came raspy and tenuous. The only part of him not cast or bound in some way was his left arm. Right now his fingers were splayed onto the sheets, and it looked like he wanted to make a fist out of his hand, to grab the blanket and externalize the pain that even morphine couldn't dull, but didn't have the strength for it.

He said, "I knew that. Higuchi… something." He blinked slowly. The plaster on his left temple moved with it. "Angry blonde chick."

"The other Akutagawa," Dazai replied, lips twitching. "He's compatible with a boy from Yokohama. They tested them on that mark-one they still have there—incredibly strong drift, according to Kouyou. Apparently they're making a whole mark-five just for them."

"Lucky bastards."

The screen of Dazai's tablet was open to world news. It had been seventeen days since Fawk's attack; by now the novelty of it had evaporated, but still his eyes occasionally fell onto a picture of Double Black standing still on the Alaskan beach, with the headline, Winner Jaeger Out of Commission?

"We're both officially dead," he hummed, scrolling through older articles. "Congratulations. I would've brought flowers if I'd known."

"Dazai."

Dazai took his time to look sideways and back at Chuuya's flushed, sweaty face. His hair looked almost orange under the glaring white light. It stuck to his forehead limply.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Dazai replied lightly.

Chuuya glared at him as hard as the unfocused quality of his eyes allowed. He gestured to his legs faintly with his hand and said, "I can't pilot anymore."

Yosano had saved his leg for now, but she didn't know if he would ever be able to walk again. She didn't know if it would get worse and need to be cut off. The wounds on the rest of him were less severe—broken bones, lacerations, marble-like bruising—but the leg had been crushed under the weight of the kaiju's foot and then stuck under metal for several minutes. Physical recovery would take months, maybe years. He would never regain full mobility, and he would be in pain his whole life.

"I know that," Dazai said.

The truth of it was branded into him.

"So," Chuuya continued, unrelenting. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know." Dazai leaned back into the armchair, let the tablet fall to his knees. His ribs ached with the movement, albeit a lot less sharply than two weeks ago. "I guess I'll stick around. It's not like you're going anywhere."

For a moment Chuuya was silent. Still enough that Dazai thought he must have dozed back into sleep again, like he had been doing ever since waking up, and the thought was a mixed blessing.

Sleep would mean that he wasn't in pain. Which was good. Sleep also reminded Dazai of the days he had spent waiting for him to wake up and hoping he would still be Chuuya.

Instead, Chuuya fisted his one free hand into the collar of Dazai's shirt and pulled him down with surprising strength.

"What are you—"

"Shut up and listen to me," Chuuya growled.

Dazai stilled under the weight of his stare. Hunching over the bed like this pulled at his shoulder and ribs, made his body protest with angry flares of pain—but it was nothing at all compared to the deep frown of Chuuya's brows, the damp pallor of him, the shaking in his fingers.

Dazai could have freed himself, but that would have meant hurting him more, however fleetingly. The thought alone made him want to hurl.

"I'm going to walk," Chuuya said, teeth clenched on agony. His shoulders had arched off the mattress so he could lean closer. "I'm going to walk, and I'm going to work with ane-san to run this fucking thing."

"Chuuya—"

"So you're not allowed to just sit here and brood. You're not allowed to do nothing—" Chuuya gasped when his shoulders dropped back onto the bed. His hand still grabbed at Dazai's clothes weakly. "Dazai," he panted, "you're not allowed to blame yourself."

Dazai's chest burned.

Chuuya's hand fell. His face was completely tense now, the heart monitor beeping frantically. "I'll walk," he repeated. "I don't give a shit how long it takes me to get there. I don't care about the pain. So don't you dare think this is your fault."

Don't you dare give up on me.

Chuuya had lived his whole life in spite of other people. He had climbed above the limits that others said he couldn't reach. He had fought and struggled and bitten his way through everything like a wild animal, ignoring his own desperate need to be loved so that he could never be hurt. And those memories may be closed off to Dazai forever now, the knowledge that he could give Chuuya what he wanted out of his mere human reach, but—

"Okay," he said. He never looked away from Chuuya's eyes. He never touched his shaking hand. "I won't."

The promise was easily made. Dazai couldn't imagine any world, any iteration of himself, giving up on Chuuya.

Of this he was surer than anything else.

Chuuya smiled at him, drunk off exhaustion and the powerful painkillers coursing through his body. "I'm glad," he slurred. His eyes closed with a sigh as he started to slip off. "I'm glad it was me instead of you."

--

--

Harvesting a kaiju corpse took more time than Yosano would've thought. Fitzgerald actually looked busy. His mouth was constantly pressed against the surprisingly old-fashioned walkie-talkie he used to communicate with the people now walking through the kaiju's entrails, examining what could be saved. He gave orders left and right, never sat down for a minute, didn't change out of the fine clothes she had sullied.

"You're in luck," he had told her a few hours ago. "Secondary brain looks fine and kicking."

She had only graced him with a nod.

Her arm was in a sling now, not plastered yet because she hadn't gone back to the dock. Naomi came to her instead after checking on all the pilots, and the girl's scolding had been something to be proud of, but not enough to drag Yosano back—she could stay out with just some painkillers. She needed to see this to its end. It was past noon already. Afternoon stretched into the winter sky, pale blue and cloudless, and Yosano waited.

At three o'clock, they finally dragged the brain out of the beast's open belly.

Kajii showed up almost like clockwork, with some people from Tanizaki's team carrying drift equipment behind him. The sight of him struggling to run on sand snapped Yosano out of her lethargy.

"What are you doing here?" she asked when he reached her.

Kajii panted, knees bent and hunched forward. He gulped in mouthfuls of cold air before straightening up. "I need to drift with it now," was his answer.

"Why? The brain's fine, you can keep it for—"

"Yosano," he cut in lowly. "They're already here."

Yosano stared at him, words swept out of her.

"But," she said. "The alarm—it's only been…"

He crept closer so that none of the people gathered around would hear him. She bent toward him, heart beating wildly. "We didn't sound the alarm because they're not attacking," he explained in a whisper. "They're guarding the breach. Not getting out of the water."

Her breathing hitched. "So they really know what we're planning," she said.

Kajii nodded.

"Shit." Yosano rubbed her face with her free hand, feeling weak in the knees. "How many?"

He made a face before answering, "Five."

One for each jaeger they had left.

"Two of them are too big to be category four, we had to call them fives," he continued lowly. She had never seen him look so serious. "The first ever. They're waiting for us, Yosano, I have to drift and confirm now. Boss is already strapping the explosives to Death Vine. They're sending everyone out again in a few minutes."

Dazai would not have slept during the night, not after seeing Nakahara collapse. He had to have already tired himself out fighting this morning—she dearly hoped that he had taken the time to eat and sleep since then, and Kunikida as well.

The difference it would make would not be consequential, she knew. The outcome the odds pointed to gripped tight in her guts.

Kajii made his way toward the gigantic brain that Fitzgerald's employees has just finished encasing in a fluid-filled glass. Yosano followed him with heavy steps, feet cold through the leather of her shoes because of the sea-wet sand. It was still stained blue by the kaiju's blood, and the torn hem of her skirt looked green with it and with the white dust of the city. By the time she reached the brain too, Kajii was already setting up the equipment under Fitzgerald's skeptic eyes.

"Wait," she said.

He stopped halfway through putting the drift helmet on his head.

"Hang on, Kajii," she went on. "You can't—you had a seizure last time. It's too dangerous for you so soon."

"You think I care about my life?" he replied, and she stilled at his tone as much as his words.

Gone was the light-hearted disregard, the lack of true devotion. Kajii looked angry with the sort of urgency that only came out of caring.

"I lost everything to these monsters," he said, voice low. "If I can help us win then I will. I don't care if I die."

"Don't fucking say that," she growled.

His eyes widened as she approached—she slapped the device away from his side and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him close.

"You have a second helmet in there, don't you," she said.

"Uh, yes?"

"Good." She released him. "Go get it. The neural load is too much for one person, I'm doing this with you."

There was a pause.

"What?"

"Don't act so surprised," she drawled, though her heart was racing up her throat with shaking fear. "I'm a doctor, I'm not about to just watch you fry your brain when I'm perfectly capable of helping out."

"Sensei," Kajii said in a high voice. "You don't even know if we can drift together."

"Don't I?"

For ten years now she had been involved with the jaeger program. She had fixed every single person now gathered in Yokohama in some way. She knew all of them by their wounds if not their names; she knew Kajii, had known him for years. She had ended and started her days in his labs for the simple pleasure of watching him fumble around, trying to help outside of the direct fight. For the simple rush of arguing with him.

Kajii seemed to come to the same conclusion himself. He mumbled, "I'll go get the second helmet."

She was thinking of Kouyou when she put it on—of her strength and resilience, of the relationship they had nurtured in the face of certain doom, of the sun's shine on her naked back when she woke up in their shared bed.

When this is over, she thought, I'm going to marry her.

Whether they won or not. Whether ten pilots came back or none at all.

"I can't believe I'm going to share minds with a medical doctor," Kajii muttered, grasping the switch with sweaty hands.

Yosano smiled thinly. "How about sharing minds with a friend?"

"Sensei," he gasped. "Was that a Lord of the Rings reference? I might just fall in love—"

She rolled her eyes, took the switch from him, and activated it herself.

--

Kunikida found Dazai asleep in the second floor's TV room, body thrown across one of the couches and face pressed into the back. He stood for well over a minute not knowing how to move, struck by how vulnerable slumber made the other look. Even having seen more of him than was strictly human, Dazai still felt like he did two days ago. Fickle and fleeting. More mocking spirit than person.

Only tethered to him by a promise to another.

In the end he shook him by the shoulder, feeling only slightly guilty at the way Dazai struggled to stay asleep. Kunikida's own body still screamed from the morning's fight. One nap wasn't enough to erase the strain of moving a jaeger, or the fear of dropping down from the limits of the sky.

"What…" Dazai slurred.

"Sorry," he said without heat. "We're getting deployed."

He saw confusion in Dazai's eyes, in the still-lax lines of his face. Then, as fast as it had appeared, it made way to alertness.

"It's only been—" he checked the time on the unlit TV's screen, "—eight hours. It's only been eight hours."

"There are five kaiju guarding the breach," Kunikida replied. The reminder sent electric shocks down his spine.

Dazai looked at him in silence.

Eventually he pushed himself upright, his right shoulder shaking slightly. There were dark bruises over it from earlier, where the kaiju had squeezed them with its tail and then held them down. Dazai dragged fingers over his face. They lingered on his mouth for a second too long.

"Let's go," he muttered.

He grabbed the plastic bag that had been sitting on the low wooden table next to him. There was food in it. He ate it on the way to the comm room, mechanically, silent except for the sound of his footsteps.

Kunikida didn't know how to start a conversation then. He didn't want to either. Ozaki's face as she had caught sight of him and sent him to fetch his copilot had spoken truer than her words, had left him shell-shocked with knowledge.

This was a suicide mission.

They were among the first to reach the room this time. The eight other pilots trickled in within the next minutes, looking a mix of disbelieving and resigned. Akutagawa Gin was still in her sleepwear. This time, she was holding onto her copilot's arm.

"What's going on?" the boy with white hair, Nakajima, asked.

Ozaki sat in front of them at the opening of the room. There were as many people as this morning, all of them still and silent. Chuuya was nowhere in sight, because he had been walking down to get changed when Kunikida had crossed his path, face hard with resolve.

"We're attacking now," Ozaki said.

Something bristled through all of them, as if they all shared one drift.

"Why?"

It was Steinbeck who had asked the question. His copilot stayed silent.

Ozaki's fingers tightened in her lap as she replied, "There are five kaiju guarding the breach. Two of them category fives." Kunikida felt goosebumps rise along his arms. "They know what we're doing, and they'll attack first if we don't. Now is our only chance."

She looked at each of them in turn, and Kunikida had never seen her look less than composed before, much the way Chuuya was; but her eyes shone with the sort of anger reserved for the desperate. The sort of hopelessness driven into the wild.

"I used to pilot, once," she whispered furiously. "I know, as well as all of you, what I'm asking of you when I send jaegers into the field. I'm aware of what I might lose. What you might lose."

Her hands opened; a picture sat in them, the paper crumpled from her hold but recognizable all the same. Ozaki and a man he didn't know, and next to them Dazai and Chuuya. Younger than Kunikida had known them. Bright-faced and smiling.

Next to him, Dazai didn't move at all.

"Twice now I've had to watch people I care about fail to come back," Ozaki continued. "Once by feeling my partner and friend die while our minds were still linked. I still wake up today crying for him. Trying to help him. I will always be haunted by what I could have done to save the life of the man who once greeted me with a smile and offered me his company for nothing in return.

Fukuzawa Yukichi was my friend and mentor. He was one of the pillars I leaned on to keep living and hoping." She smiled hollowly, looking at the picture. "He was the best man I have ever met. He fought selflessly, just because he could. And he saw me, a criminal, someone who had never in my life care about humanity, as something worth saving too."

Her thumb stroked the man's face gently.

"I have watched countless pilots fall. I have sent many to their deaths." She lifted her head. "I remember and mourn every single one of them," she said, meeting their eyes in turn. "This may seem hopeless—it may all seem useless—but I have never sent someone into the field whom I didn't believe in and care about.

I'm sending you out now because I know you can do it. I'm saying all of this because I know some of you might not come back once all is done—might not get to live in the free world you created." She breathed in heavily. "And I want you to know," she added, "that if that is the case, I will never forget you. For as long as I live. I will never allow the world to forget that you lived."

Kunikida's ears rang with the sound of her voice, with the finality of it. He felt her promise settle along his shoulders and loosen something there that he hadn't known existed.

Ozaki straightened in her seat, pushing herself up against the arms of the chair. "Now," she said. She slipped the picture into a pocket of her slacks. "Take ten minutes to yourselves. Say goodbye, or good luck. Hug your loved ones." Her eyes dragged to Kunikida's left, where Dazai was standing still. "Then get suited up and help me cancel the goddamn apocalypse."

She left.

Almost everyone left with her, dribbling out via the open doors, rushing to talk or falling utterly silent. Kunikida stood in the midst of it with his back to the door and his mind empty of all thought. He didn't have anyone left to say goodbye to. His family was long dead, his students gone and forgotten, Aya just another ghost haunting his every dream.

He didn't need to say goodbye to Dazai either. Dazai would be with him all the way, whether they made it out or not. The fact that Kunikida even entertained the thought made surprise flare through the blurry confines of his mind.

He turned his head to look at Dazai, to see the face he was making—and found Dazai walking toward the dressing room with his hands in his pockets.

"What are you doing?" he asked, grabbing him by the elbow.

Dazai looked at him over his shoulder. "Getting suited up," he answered.

It took a moment for Kunikida to understand that he wasn't joking.

"No you're not," he growled then.

He released Dazai to step closer, the way he had upon first meeting him—and he couldn't believe, now, that it had only been two days. Dazai felt like a lifelong acquaintance; his life part of Kunikida's own.

"We might not come back from this," he said between his teeth.

"So what?" Dazai replied easily. His slouch was deceptive. He never turned to face Kunikida fully. "It's no different than any other fight. I'm always prepared for the possibility that I might die, Kunikida-kun."

"The odds are different now. Even you've never fought five kaiju at once."

"Are they," Dazai replied darkly.

Kunikida inhaled through his nose until he felt his tension lessen. "Chuuya is in his room right now," he said. "I saw him when I was looking for you." Then, after a second: "You have enough time to go talk to him."

Dazai's mouth twitched in something so unlike joy that all the air in the room seemed to cool at once.

"I wonder, Kunikida-kun," he said coldly. "Why do you care so much about this? Drifting with you is like swimming in self-hatred. You've spent the last two years absorbed by guilt for something you think is your fault, when any moron could tell you that Kouda Aya's death wasn't any more your doing than if a plane you weren't even on had crashed."

He breathed in. Took a step forward. Kunikida didn't move back, ears burning with the flow of Dazai's voice, heart slowing down to a deathly rhythm.

"You couldn't have saved her," Dazai said, face twisted into sympathy. "You loved her, she was your favorite student, and you did everything you could. But you couldn't have saved her with how badly she was injured. Not even if you'd been running in a jaeger." It was his turn to grab Kunikida by the arm, and Kunikida almost flinched. "You were with her until the end. She died in the arms of someone who cared. It's more than enough, Kunikida-kun, you have nothing to blame yourself for."

"Enough," Kunikida exhaled.

Dazai dropped his arm and stepped away.

He didn't leave as Kunikida fought to regain his composure. He said nothing of the tears gathering in his eyes, of the well-visited memory of Aya's voice he must now was now playing through his mind. His presence was a comfort and a pain both.

"You think you can help yourself by helping me," Dazai said eventually. "But you're wrong. It won't help either of us."

"I'm not," Kunikida spat back.

At least Dazai showed some surprised at that.

Kunikida dug his nails into the back of his left hand. He wished he had the time to shower once more and erase the slick taint of blood he could always feel there. "I'm trying to help you," he said, "because drifting with you is the equivalent of making myself go through torture every single time Chuuya so much as crosses your mind."

All the time. Every single second of both drifts they had gone through. Chuuya was as present in the neural handshake as Dazai himself, alive and breathing in the drift through the magnitude of Dazai's feelings.

"And it doesn't have to be," Kunikida continued, under Dazai's wide eyes. "You're terrified of losing him, but he's right here. He's not dead, he hasn't left you—he's right here. If you don't talk to him now and the mission goes…"

He couldn't get the words out. The perspective itself was an aberration. It went against nature.

"Why do you care so much?" Dazai asked again, bewildered. "This morning it was all you could think about. I barely even saw Aya. I don't—I don't understand."

He looked so genuinely lost. As if he couldn't fathom anyone caring this much now that he had lost access to the proof that someone did. And Chuuya did; he did every time he said Dazai's name and every time he met eyes with him, in every one of those shared glances that made the world fade out and left Kunikida feeling as though he were witnessing something too private to exist.

Kunikida's chest felt swollen with pity. His throat tight with understanding.

"Dazai," he said gently. "Do you even realize how much you love him?"

Familiar tapping reached them then, echoing against the walls of the empty corridor. Chuuya walked into the comm room with his wooden cane in hand and dressed up for battle, suit and shoes and tied-up hair. Nothing like the vulnerable sight he had offered just this morning. He came to a startled stop at the sight of them.

Love was the way Dazai's eyes broke away from Kunikida's to look at him instead, pulled by inescapable force. It was the immediate softening of his features, making him look closer to the teenager Kunikida had glimpsed on Ozaki's photograph; the soul-wide want Kunikida knew was now making every cell of him shudder.

If it wasn't love, then nothing on Earth could be.

Dazai stared at Chuuya, and Chuuya stared back, and the space between them shook with unvoiced yearning.

"I can't," Dazai said.

Kunikida could not feel angry at him anymore. Not even as he walked away. He looked at the floor rather than subject himself to whatever sort of new pain would be painted on Chuuya's face now, whatever sort of new regret Dazai would carry to the drift. The door of the dressing room closed with a click, cutting through the silence.

He knew better than most just how much fear could sour.

[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]

[bungou-stray-dogs-indulgences]

how would fukuzawa, yosano, dazai, atsushi, chuuya, akutagawa, and koyou react if they are suddenly 'attacked' by their s/o, who jumps at them and starts peppering them with kisses?

Fukuzawa Yukichi

Never in a million years can you sneak up on Fukuzawa, no matter how hard you try. From the moment he comes within fifteen feet of you, he’ll notice you tucked away in your hiding spot, waiting for him. He’s puzzled, and doesn’t quite know if he should call you out or not, so he simply stares at you quizzically until you decide to strike.

When you spring at him, Fukuzawa’s even more confused. A single eyebrow rises as you mount your attack, and he watches you, unsure if he should even as what you’re up to. When you reach him, though, and begin assaulting him with kisses he immediately catches on to your purpose. A satisfied smile stretches across his face as you speckle his skin, lips trailing every inch of his face. After a few moments he lets out a laugh.

Without warning, Fukuzawa suddenly flips the tables and sweeps you up into his arms, squishing you in a gigantic, tight hug. He chuckles as you squirm in his grip, but holds firm. Fukuzawa plants a few kisses of his own across your cheeks before setting you down, satisfied. He would never say something so dreadfully cliche out loud, but he’s thankful that he managed to find someone as energetic as you. You spirit helps him feel as though he doesn’t have quite so many years hanging heavy on his shoulders (he may not be all that old yet, but some days, he definitely feels like it).

After you’re safely on the ground again, Fukuzawa captures your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tugs you into a deep kiss. Slowly, he massages your lips with his own, pulling you into pure bliss with his teeth and tongue. Where kissing’s involved, Fukuzawa’s hard to beat, and it’s going to take a lot more than a simple surprise attack to one-up him.

Yosano Akiko

If there’s anyone that gets wrapped up in their work, it’s Yosano Akiko. Sneaking up on her is no big task, especially if she’s engrossed in paperwork, or perhaps a novel she’s been reading lately. All you need to do is lie in wait until she’s focused on something, and you’re practically guaranteed a successful surprise attack.

After you’ve pounced on her, Yosano simply laughs, setting aside whatever was occupying her to fully concentrate on you. Once you’ve pulled her away from something, there’s no escaping her notice; she’s 100%, completely focused on you now. You can’t slip away from Yosano even if you want to.

Yosano wraps her arms around you, looping them underneath yours so that your hands still have free range as she holds you. She plants one chaste peck on your lips before pulling back in a silent command to proceed. Yosano remains in your grips, basking in the affection you’re showering her with. No kisses will ever be enough to satiate her voracious appetite for your love, but as long as your lips keep ghosting across her skin, she’s temporarily satisfied. Giggles bubble out of her chest as she threads her hands through your hair, tugging you closer to her skin if she thinks you’re not keeping a fast enough fast.

When you’re through, pulling back in an attempt to halt the kiss attack, Yosano immediate grabs for you, tugging your face to be about a breath from hers. “I didn’t say you could stop,” she points out, voice somewhere between a purr and a whine. Be prepared to be showering Yosano with kissses for hours, if you ambush her; she won’t let you go free until she’s satisfied, and that may take a long time.

Dazai Osamu

If you think you can surprise Dazai, you’ve got another thing coming. From the moment the idea entered your head to attack the man, he’s had an inkling that a plot’s spinning around in your head. While Dazai’s curiosity prods him to confront you, he also wants the surprise to be genuine. Thus, even though he expects some kind of trick from you, Dazai still lets your sneaking around carry on uninterrupted. 

Dazai’s nothing if not an actor; even though he knew something was up, he acts completely surprised when you pounce on him. Flailing wildly, Dazai yelps, pretending like he’s stuck in a life-or-death battle. “Kunikida, Atsushi, someone!” He cries out, grin spread wide across his face as he lets you blanket his skin in kisses. “Help me! I’ve been trapped by a wily vixen!” Dazai falls to the ground, laughter bubbling out as you sprinkle kisses all over his cheeks. 

“I won’t go down without a fight!” Dazai proclaims. Suddenly, his fingers dive into your sides, tickling furiously. It’s not the first time he’s used such dirty tactics, and it probably won’t be the last! Dazai tickles you mercilessly until you’re both rolling on the floor, tears leaking out from all the laughter.

Whether you win this battle or not all depends on if you keep kissing Dazai. If you dodge his wiggling fingers enough to keep peppering his face, or if you start tickling him back, he’ll cave within five minutes. “I’ve been vanquished…” Dazai laments, sitting up to plant a kiss of his own on your nose. “I’m truly no match for you, my darling __________.”

Nakajima Atsushi

If Atsushi’s wrapped in what he’s doing, slipping into your hiding place and springing out on him is nearly effortless. He’s completely oblivious to your presence until your arms suddenly twist around him, mischief in your eyes and a grin spread across your face. He’s nearly thrown off balance and almost topples to the ground, but Atsushi doesn’t care. He’s already smiling (albeit a bit nervously) before you even plant your lips on him.

The moment you start spreading kisses here-there-and-everywhere all over Atsushi’s face, a crayon-pink blush explodes across his cheeks under your lips. He explodes into a fit of adorable giggles, throwing his arms out before wrapping them around you in a tight hug. Atsushi squirms under the volley of smooches; he’s ridiculously ticklish, and the fact that you’re simply not letting up isn’t helping anything!

As long as nobody else is watching you, Atsushi inevitably catches your kissing bug and soon returns a few pecks of his own.  His arms playfully tighten around you so that you’re trapped, and then he starts lightly peppering kisses along your cheekbones in between the little smooches from you. Soon a competition’s raging between you; who can kiss the other the most without being interrupted by a kiss?  

If anyone else is around, Atsushi soon grows too embarrassed by your little shower of affection and buries his face in your neck, laughing. He giggles out a breathless “Stop! Truce, truce, I submit!”. Honestly, though, Atsushi doesn’t really want you to knock it off. He’s perfectly content if you ignore his pleas, and go on splattering kisses across his skin.

Nakahara Chuuya

Catching Chuuya unawares is a truly difficult task, but if you’re truly commited, you can sneak up on him if he’s on the middle of some important paperwork or something of that nature. He sees you coming before you reach him, naturally, but he stays still, letting you pounce on him without a fuss, even if he’s a bit confused.

As soon as your lips start hitting his skin in light little kisses, Chuuya’s face breaks out in a grin as his arms wrap around you. You’re just so cute, he can’t handle it! A laugh rumbles out of Chuuya’s chest as he stands still for a few beats, just appreciating this sudden burst of affection.

Chuuya, though, is never one to be outdone, even by you. He doesn’t let you smother his skin for long before his arms shift and he’s suddenly sweeping you off your feet, his strong arms capturing you so that you can’t resist. As soon as you’re pinned in his grasp, comfortably encircled in his arms, Chuuya turns the tables.

Chuuya peppers you with kisses instead, a grin plastered against his face as his lips travel all over your skin, attacking here and there until you’re a blushing, giggling mess. He does relish affection, to be sure; but with things like this, why receive when you can give? Chuuya loves to get your face flushed and laughter bubbling from your chest, and he’ll do anything to make you smile.

Ryunosuke Akutagawa

For how guarded Akutagawa is, pouncing on him from the shadows in a sneak attack is surprisingly easy. Dealing with him afterward is the tricky part. When your arms clasp around him, intending to pull him into sweet little kisses, he immediately tenses. Akutagawa’s attack mode flips on instantly, and it’s a good thing you’re planting your lips on the back of his neck, because otherwise Rashomon might’ve skewered you. The only thing that saves you from a self-defending smack is the fact that Akutagawa recognizes you’re the only person that would dare kiss him.

Sighing, Akutagawa turns to face you, the tiniest of carnation pink blushes blooming across his face as you lean to splatter kisses across his cheeks. After you’ve thoroughly covered his face, he sends you a glare (there’s no real heat in it, of course; Akutagawa’s just upset that you could’ve been hurt by catching him off guard). “You know I don’t appreciate surprises,” he grumps, though he doesn’t push you away. He immediately panics when he notices your face fall, obviously hurt by his words. “I suppose, though, this one’s fine…” Akutagawa trails off before deciding he can’t just leave you crestfallen and without kisses.

Tipping your face to his, Akutagawa sweeps his lips over yours, settling once you’re firmly comfortable in his arms. He lavishes affection across your mouth, teeth and tongue slowly working against yours as you melt into his grip. Akutagawa cuts it off when you’re both out of breath and have entirely forgotten his less-than-thrilling reaction to your surprise kiss attack. “Next time,” he requests, planting a tiny kiss on your nose for good measure, “warn me, and I promise I’ll enjoy every kiss you give.” With that, Akutagawa’s back to his business like nothing ever happened.

Ozaki Kouyou

Nobody sneaks up on Kouyou; no matter how hard you try, you’ll never be able to spring a surprise attack on this woman. From the moment you get positioned, Kouyou’s entirely aware where you are. She knows you’re up to something, even if she’s not sure what. Kouyou won’t call you out; your antics intruige her too much for her to ask you just what you’re up to. She simply waits, side-eyeing you, until you make your move. 

“My, you’re excitable today,” Kouyou chuckles as you spring your attack, peppering kisses up and down her skin. Usually, she’s not one for bubbly displays of affection, but when you’re wound up, she can’t help but catch a bit of your vivacity. 

Kouyou lets you smother her in light kisses for awhile, leaning into you. Gently wrapping her arms around your waist, she simply basks in your presence, a tiny smile flirting with the edges of her lips.

Eventually, Kouyou grows restless with your sweet display. Catching your chin between her thumb and forefinger, she halts you mid-kiss. “Now, my dear, you know you shouldn’t be so teasing for such a long time,” she purrs, tugging you flush against her. Pulling your face to hers, Kouyou plants her soft lips gently against yours, slowing shifting against your skin. Slowly but surely, she takes control of the kiss, letting her tongue slip out to taunt your mouth. Kouyou doesn’t mind sweetness, and she’ll accept any affection from you; just don’t be surprised when she pulls you down into something deeper, shifting the mood from lighthearted to sensual in a few expert moves.

[yatokamiii]

Reason living

so this is kind of a part two of forever with you but it can be read by itself

title credit to @aja154ever

basically soukoku wedding day fanfic that I wanted to write

“Chuuya-” Kouyou knocked lightly on the lightly colored wood door. “Chuuya honey it’s time to wake up.” She continued as she stepped over to wear the little redhead slept and lightly shook his shoulder. After a few futile attempts at waking him up, she bat his shoulder with her right hand. “Chuuya get up, now.” She commanded, causing him to stir.

“What the hell? What time is is?” He groaned and turned onto his back before pushing himself up onto his elbows.

“It’s 10 a.m. You need to get up and start getting ready.” She stated before standing up and walking to the curtains, yanking them open and letting in the natural sunlight of the morning. Chuuya groaned loudly while flopping back down onto his bed and covering his face with his pillow.

~~ Dazai at the metal table on the balcony, a mug of coffee sitting in front of him, releasing steam into the air. He let out a deep breath while running his finger around the top of the cup. His chin rested on his hand and his view was cast downwards toward the street, watching the people go about their days.

“Dazai, what are you doing?” Kunikida asked as he opened the sliding glass door that connected the apartment and the balcony.

“Mentally preparing myself for today.” He replied queitly.

“You don’t seem excited.” Kunikida pulled out the chair that was across from Dazai and sat down. Dazai shifted his gaze over to his blond best friend.

“Kunikida words couldn’t express how happy I am, but I just want everything to go perfectly.”

“It’ll be fine, calm down.” Kunikida stood from the chair. “Get in here, you’ve gotta clean yourself up. I can’t let you get married looking like that.”

~~

“Ow ow! Be gentle nee-san, I wanna have soome hair for my wedding.” Chuuya spoke as Kouyou struggled to get the hairbrush through the thick hair.

“I’m sorry your hair is just being very uncooperative.”

“Now you know why I wear a hat all the time.” They bother laughed before Kouyou gave one last tug on his hair. “Ah fuck!”

“Alright that was the last knot.” She said as she slowly ran the brush through the soft curly hair. Chuuya sighed and slumped into the chair slightly, his eyes cast downward. “Nervous?”

“Very. I don’t really know why. I’m so excited but I can’t shake my anxiety.”

“Oh sweetheart it’s completely normal to be anxious on a big day. Just know that you’re going to have the time of your life.” She comforted and rubbed his arm a bit. Chuuya smiled as he gazed at his own refelction in front of him.

“I just can’t believe this is finally happening.” He smiled.

~~

Dazai attempted to straighten up his curly, voluminous hair in the mirror. He sighed and set his hands down on the counter that sat in between him and the mirror, giving a heavy sigh.

“Dazai seriously you’re not even dressed yet?” Kunikida complained as he entered the room. “Ugh your hair is still a mess. Did you even wash it when you showered?” He continued.

“Yes I washed it and it won’t flatten.” Dazai chuckled a bit. “I look like I just came in from a windstorm and decided to get married without even glancing at my reflection.”

“Get over here.” Kunikida demaned as he dragged over a chair and placed it in front of him. “Sit down.” Dazai quietly oblidged and turned so his back faced the blond. He watched the other begin to skillfully work with Dazai’s hair, brushing out and knots and tangles. Within the span of 10 minutes, Dazai’s hair was brushed through and styled. “There. Much more acceptable.”

“Wow,” Dazai marvelled at his pristine hair. “When did you learn to do hair?”

“Dazai have you seen the length of my hair. I kinda had to.” He shrugged before going towards the closet and retrieving the pieces of Dazai’s tuxedo. “Now get dressed, the ceremony starts in two hours.”

“Alright alright but you’re gonna have to get out if you want me to get dressed.” Dazai teased, causing the blond to cringe slightly before exiting the room, leaving behind a smiling Dazai.

~~~

“You know, Dazai actually tried to convince me to wear a gown. Can you believe it? A wedding gown. I’m a male, I’m gonna wear a tux.” Chuuya laughed as he ranted to his mother figure as he buttoned his shirt. “He’s lucky I even agreed to wear a white tux, I wanted to wear an all black one.” He shrugged as he buttoned his jacket. “How does this look?” He turned to Kouyou and opened his arms. She sat in silence, a smile spreading on her face and tears welling up in her eyes.

“You look amazing, dear.” Her voice broke a bit. “I never thought this day would come.” a single tear escaped her eye before she caught it with the sleeve of her formal kimono. Chuuya smiled and let out a small, cheerful laugh.

“How long until the ceremony?” He turned and looked at the clock at the wall.

“Just 45 minutes left.” Kouyou answered as Chuuya took in a breath. “Deep breath, Chuuya. Everything will be perfect.” Chuuya smiled.

“I know. I’m just really excited.”

~~

“Thanks for coming you guys!” Dazai greeted as he walked over to his friends from the agency. “Wow Ranpo I’m surprised you came.” Dazai added, causing an burst of laughter from the others.

“I’m pretty sure he only came for a slice of cake.” Yosano joked, causing more uncontrolable laughter.

“Where do we put wedding gifts, Dazai?” Atsushi smiled to the brunet and held out a neatly wrapped box.

“Right on that table over there.” Dazai smiled and pointed to the table on the right side of the door. Atsushi handed the gift to Kyouka who graciously walked over and set the box down gently.

“So you nervous?” Yosano asked as she walked over and lightly elbowed Dazai’s side. He laughed a bit and smiled at her.

“A little bit. But that doesn’t matter because no matter what happens, I’m getting married and that’s all that matters.”

“Aww.” Everyone cooed at his words.

“Heartwarming, Dazai.” Hirotsu interjected and placed a hand on the other’s shoulder.

“Oh Hirotsu I’m glad you could come.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss you and Nakahara’s big day.” He smiled.

“Ready to start, Dazai?” Kouyou asked as she walked up to him, hands in her sleeves. Dazai smiled.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Dazai walked up to his spot at the alter, followed by Kunikida, then Atsushi. Music from the piano sounded as one by one people filed down the aisle and stood on the side Chuuya would soon be on. Dazai smiled and folded his hands in front of him, fingers fidgeting in anticipation.

Soon everyone rose to their feet as Elise began to skip down the aisle, tossing red roses behind her, painting Chuuya’s path with the gentle petals. Once she reached the aisle, she tossed the last of the petals and skipped off to the right to return to Mori’s side.

Heads turned as Chuuya became visible in the doorway. Dazai bit his lip as he laid his eyes on him. The white tuxedo jacket hugged his small waist and rested on his hips. Escorted by Kouyou, theybegan to slowly make their way down the aisle, smiling at all of the smiles. Chuuya smiled at all of the faces he’s come to know over the years, until his eyes finally landed on Dazai. Dazai couldn’t help the smile that grew and the tears that threatened to spill. He inhaled a shaky breath as Chuuya climbed up the stairs to the alter. Kouyou released his arm as Dazai stretched out his hand. Chuuya planted a soft kiss on Kouyou’s temple before placing his hand in Dazai’s. He stood in front of Dazai, staring into the soft burgundy eyes that he lost himself in every time.

~~

“I understand that you have written vows for each other?” Chuuya and Dazai smiled at each other. “Dazai, your vows.” Dazai took a deep breath before beginning to speak.

“Chuuya, I could stand here and tell you all these conventional things like ‘I’ve always been by your side and that will never change’ or things like that but then I’d be lying. I screwed up. And every day I did’t see you, I thought about you. And when I finally saw you two years after I left, I couldn’t believe it. I had to talk to you again. I’m so glad I did. And I’m even more glad that you forgave me. You gave me another chance. So to make up for when I wasn’t there, I vow to never leave you so long as you live. I’ll always be by your side, Chuuya. Because I love you so much. And I never wanna live without you again.” Chuuya’s eyes watered as he bit his lip and smiled up to Dazai.

“Beautiful. Chuuya, your vows.” Chuuya exhaled.

“Dazai, I’m just gonna come out and say it. I’ve loved you for years. Every mission we went on, every might we spent in mafia protected hotel rooms, watching tv in bed, or bickering at each other. I never wanted to leave your side. You never left my mind, even in the times when you weren’t physically there. I could always feel you there, and hear your voice even if you were miles away. I vow to never leave you, always be there to save you from your suicide attempts, make you smile, and every time you feel alone, I’ll be there to grab your hand and hold you. I love you, Dazai.” Dazai bit his bottom lip and smiled down to the redhead.

“Lovely. May I have the rings?” Atsushi handed over the two small silver bands. One plain silver band, the other small silver circles with gems in the middle of each. “Let these rings serve as a physical embodiment of your love for each other, their circular shape signifying the infinite time you will spend loving each other.” Dazai grabbed the jeweled silver ring and slid it onto Chuuya’s hand before Chuuya did the same for Dazai. “Do you, Dazai Osamu, take Chuuya Nakahara, to be your husband, ‘till death do you part?” Dazai turned his head and smiled, gazing into the small oceans.

“Yes, I do.”

“And do you, Chuuya Nakahara, take Dazai Osamu, to be your husband, ‘till death do you part.” Chuuya smiled.

“I do.”

“Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the husband.” They smiled at each other before Dazai grabbed Chuuya’s hips and pulled him in for a kiss. Chuuya wrapped his arms around Dazai’s neck as everyone around them cheered. They separated after a few seconds and stared at each other before letting each other go and facing the audience. The two smiled and waved as they laced their hands together and walked down the aisle together.

~~~~~~~~~

I’ve only been to two weddings okay forgive me for not knowing some of that speech I just needed this written

This probably isn’t my best work but eh whatever 

As aslways, leave your feedback and my ask box, messages and submissions are open for your ideas!