#apparently this is a kunikida week

[originalartblog]

Dazai trying to pretend to be a nobody who knows nothing so his new colleague won't be too suspicious of him during his entrance exam is hilarious

[rae-writes]

all for you...

Dazai x twin!reader

wc : 1.k

warnings : angst, ambiguous ending, major character death [not reader or Dazai], blood, implied prior emotional/physical/[light] sexual abuse

synopsis : "I don't want to play this part but I do, all for you"

a/n : I...apologize for this

“Well now…this is quite the mess to clean up…” 

The splattered blood on the wall had begun to drip, sliding down the wood slowly and splashing onto the floor with faint ‘pit, pit’ echoes. There was an eerie, ringing, silence to the air and a tension that felt suffocating.

Something shifted when Mori turned to look at the two children who just witnessed the murder— they were no older than fourteen. 

“You twins are my witnesses…from now on, I will be the new boss of the Port Mafia, and the two of you…will stay by my side.”

Fukuzawa Yukichi and Mori Ogai sat at a small, cherry-wood table that was decorated with a glass china set for the tea they were talking over; it would’ve been a rather amusing sight, if the conversation topic hadn’t been so serious. 

While they both performed their positions as head of their respective organizations diligently- and extremely well- it was no secret that they were each getting higher up in their years. They thought it best to discuss who would potentially be taking over once they were retired together, as it would help maintain their mutual agreement between said organizations. 

“Your best candidate is Doppo Kunikida, is it not? I was fairly certain it was him who was acting in your stead whenever you could not.”

You and Chuuya stood directly behind Mori, with a small handful of your subordinates a couple of feet away; similarly, Fukuzawa had Kunikida and Dazai behind him, with the rest of the agency’s core members on standby. The two heads didn’t really need them here, as they could very well handle themselves against one another, however by this point, it was more or less a tradition. 

“That is correct. What about you? Surely you’re going to pick from your pool of executives, aren’t you?” 

There it was. That nauseous dread pooling in the pit of your stomach. It sunk into your bones, forcing a cold sweat to the surface of your skin as, instinctively, your flight or fight response tried to take over. 

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

The sounds around you grow muffled so suddenly it makes your head spin and the scenery melts down into a memory of the executive meeting held a week ago.

“Do not mistake my words. I will continue as the Port Mafia’s head until it is apparent I am no longer able to fulfill my role; even then, my presence will not just disappear. This is my home and the organization I’ve dedicated my life to. I’m simply implying that we will need a suitable replacement when that time comes.” 

Rae glanced at Chuuya, finding him to be exactly who Mori was looking for. There was no one else in the room, or even the entire Port Mafia for that matter, who would be better suited to take over the position as boss. 

“And Dazai Osamu shall be just the person to do so.” 

No matter how sickening the feeling of fear and dread can be, anger will always be the secondary emotion. Even if that anger doesn’t last, it festers somewhere deep inside someone and builds until it’s crawling throughout their whole body— and suddenly it’s controlling them. It’s what takes over their mind like a parasite until it’s moving their legs, their fingers, their hands; until it acts on all those…scenarios in a person’s mind that were never meant to be born- that were only supposed to stay as impulsive thoughts. It’s then that the entire world a person experiences can be flipped upside down and drowned in the raging tides their anger brought. 

It was that anger that had your body moving on autopilot while you just…watched. Like you were a prisoner in your own mind, watching something on the tv screen. 

Your feet took a few steps forward before your hand was reaching for Mori’s teacup and slamming it on the edge of the table, shattering the glass. It left one big shard in your grasp. Your free hand had come up to the back of his head, fingers tangling in the long strands of black hair before yanking, forcing him to look at you with an exposed neck. 

When his red-purple hues met yours, your movements became your own. A gasp tore from your throat as you took in the sight in front of you, ragged breathing making you tremble. It was now that you were able to consciously think about your actions. 

And you thought about Osamu. 

You thought about everything he had to go through— everything Mori forced him to go through. 

You thought about that shine he had in his eyes that dulled over the years, only returning when he’d escaped Mori and the Port Mafia. You thought about the night he left, the way he cried over Odasaku and the way he cried about not wanting to leave you; you’d never seen him cry before. You thought about the hope in his eyes as you helped him leave and the genuine smile he’d given you two years later when you saw him again in the Agency. 

You thought about Mori’s sick, twisted version of affection— or ‘love’ as he called it sometimes. About the way he treated the two of you. The way he talked, manipulated, used, touched the two of you. 

As you gazed into the eyes of your tormentor- the man who was planning to drag your brother back to the darkness that had already consumed you- all that was swimming in those devil eyes was some warped version of pride; of satisfaction. 

His voice echoed in your mind, words he didn’t even need to voice aloud because he’d engrained them into you, seeping disgustingly- permanently- into your core. 

‘If I cannot have Osamu, I will gladly have you instead, my precious Y/n.’ 

With steady hands, though a trembling heart, you forced the broken piece of china into the flesh of Mori’s neck. And with a chilling cry, you dragged it across the entire expanse of his throat; his blood was now coating your face. 

It would’ve been a rather amusing sight- the horror plastered across everyone’s faces…if the situation hadn’t been so serious. 

“He…he was going to ask Osamu to be the next boss…and I couldn’t— I wouldn’t let him. Not you, Osamu.” Your voice cracked as you looked over at your brother, heart clenching when he looked at you with such…mortification. “Anyone but you.” 

And Osamu thought back to you. 

He thought back to all those times your eyes darkened in rage whenever Mori did something to him. He thought back to how you’d always yell at Mori for hurting him, whether physically or mentally. He thought back to the nights you promised him you’d help him shove down that darkness Mori festered in him. He thought about the promise you made him when he left the mafia: the promise that you’d be the one to kill Mori for what he’d done to the two of you. 

As he gazed into the eyes of his twin sibling- standing with blood on their face after just repeating the cycle, all for him- he could see the fear of what you’d just done. The determination to be better than Mori...and the love. Love for him. 

He should’ve known, his heart screams. He should’ve known this would happen, that you’d snap. He should’ve stopped you, he should’ve talked to you, he should’ve been there for you, because now—

. . .

After a haunting moment of ringing silence, the only person who dares to move is Chuuya Nakahara; the redhead kneels, sliding his hat off as he bows his head, “All hail the new Port Mafia boss, Dazai Y/n.”

[kunikinnie]

a/n: this one was in the drafts for a long time lol anw hope you guys like it!

birthday

Today passed quicker than you expected. Since your birthday plans were canceled due to his work, you had much more time to do other things - although of course the disappointment did not fully dissipate. 

You were typing away at your laptop, focusing on work that demanded utmost attention, and by the time you had finished the clock almost struck midnight. Was it that late? Oh well. One last look at your phone messages was all you had to do before sleeping anyway - your heart was especially expectant when you checked on his conversation - but there was nothing. Such was life, you thought, and you were about to tuck yourself in when a loud knock interrupted you. 

Curiously you strode to your door, and the moment you opened it you nearly gasped at the mess of a man standing in front of it.

“Wh-what am I looking at…?” you asked in confusion.

“Your boyfriend…?”

Tetchou was far from presentable: his cap was barely on his sweaty hair and his uniform stained with blood aside from the torn and frayed portions. It was the complete opposite from the bouquet of flowers in his two fingers that were immaculate and fresh.

“No, I mean what is that?” 

Your eyes were fixed on the large triangular metal sheet with “Happy Birthday” hastily painted on it. The marks of steel being ripped from its center were apparent, so this could only be…

“I thought flowers weren’t enough so I wanted to make a placard… but I didn’t have any materials so I just used this traffic sign that I accidentally cut off during the chase.”

The absurdity of it all made you question your sanity. So he couldn’t find an illustration board or something similar but there was paint lying around? Were you just in a fever dream? That was the most logical explanation, but the strength of the scent of his sweat when he stepped closer to you suggested otherwise. 

“Sorry… is it too much?” 

The puppy eyes that you kept falling for had landed a critical hit once again. Yes, it was too much - too much compared to what you had expected he would ever do for you for something so inane as this. Yet your heart couldn’t help but swell with delight at his efforts.

“You didn’t have to, but thank you..”

Without further delay you let him inside your warm apartment. He handed over his bouquet and the improvised placard which you placed on the table and swapped for your own present. All the while you continued to barrage him with questions and words of concern: Why was his uniform in tatters? Was he injured? Why did he push himself to come here today? Yet he answered none of those and simply sprawled beside your bed. 

“At least change first, please?”

“Too tired… ran all the way here,” he panted. The image of him running poker faced with the giant stop sign was one you never thought you’d have to imagine, but then again nothing was impossible with Tetchou.

“Besides,” he continued, eyes only half open. “I promised you I’d come today. You were so excited so… can’t… just…”

You quickly caught him before his face hit the floor. He should have come tomorrow instead. Or maybe on the weekend if he was that busy. A few more days to add to the weeks you hadn’t seen him in person was nothing compared to his immediate welfare.  

The guilt and gratitude overflowed as you pulled him up to your bed. He always took care of you whenever he could, so helping him get a good night’s sleep is the least you could do in return. And that in itself was something you were more than glad to do for him - why would you do any less for the love of your life?

You placed a soft kiss on his forehead.  “Thank you, Tetchou,” you whispered before finally retiring for the night in your spare futon.

taglist: @stygianoir, @irethepotato, @kisara-16reblogs, @thatdazaikin, @dazaee, @menshusband, @celestair, @bloobewy, @renaxnnas, @kunikida-simp

[starlightshadowsworld]

Kunikida: Atsushi, I don't mean to alarm you but there's a bounty on your head.

Dazai: Yup, congrats Atsushi you're a wanted man.

Atsushi: Huh and here I thought being a weretiger was the most ridiculous thing I'd learn this week. But nope, apparently I'm wanted snorts I can't even say it with a straight face.

[that-was-anticlimactic]

Ouu okay okay how about kunikida + another character of your choosing and "Where exactly do you think you're going?"

i spun a bsd character wheel, and it landed on tachihara!

Tachihara quietly closes the door to Jun's door behind him and lets out of a soft breath of relief.

"Where exactly do you think you're going?"

He freezes, then slowly turns around to see Kunikida with his arms crossed.

Da.mn, of all the people to catch him, it just had to be the one with a major stick up his a.ss, huh?

"Hey, man," he says, slowly raising his hands. "I was just, uh, dropping something off."

"This early?" Kunikida raises a brow.

"Yup." He pops his 'p'. "I'm an early riser. So, if you don't mind, I'll be on my way--"

Just as Tachihara is about to book it, he sees Kunikida's eyes land on his neck. His very bruised neck. His neck that is covered in bite marks and hand prints that he plans to cover up when he gets back to his place.

"If you think that's bad, you should see the other guy," he blurts out.

Kunikid's eyes widen, and Tachihara thinks now would be a good time to pass out or, perhaps, keel over a die.

"Sh.it."

"Sh.it indeed."

"Look, dude, we really don't need to get into this, okay? It's perfectly natural for enemies to hook up every once in awhile. The whole fighting this is sexy sometimes! Sue me!"

Kunikida does not seem impressed.

"Gah, look. Just... please don't tell anyone, okay? He isn't ready to be out yet and he's terrified of disappointing you so--"

"Tachihara-kun."

His mouth snaps shut.

"I'm not..." Kunikida drags a hand down his face. "I'm not disappointed. Just surprised and... just don't let it get in the way of work and for the love of God, please make sure Kenji-kun and Kyouka-kun don't walk into... anything."

Oh thank GOD.

"That won't happen, trust me. We usually do it at my place but Naomi-chan is away for the week, which you obviously know, and there's something kinda hot about sneaking around here."

Kunikida wrinkles his nose.

"I don't want to... whatever. Does Naomi-chan know?"

"Heh, no. Not yet, anyways."

Kunikida nods. "That's probably for the best. She's really smart, though. Dazai trained her for a bit, and Ranpo has taken her under his wing. It won't be a secret for long."

"Yeah, we kinda figured." He scratches the back of his neck. God, this is awkward.

The silence starts to get to him, and, because Tachihara has no impulse control, apparently, he snorts and says: "What you aren't going to threaten to kill me or anything?"

A slow grin starts slinking up Kunikida's face. "I don't see the point in wasting my time when I know that Naomi-chan will threaten you in a most effective manner."

Kunikida clears his throat before Tachihara can properly process the threat and adjusts his collar (but not before Tachihara sees a patch of yellow and purple...) and bows. "I trust you can see yourself out."

"Yes, sir, I can!"

He's not about to refuse the out Kunikida so graciously gave him, so he shoots Kunikida with finger guns and bolts down the hall calling, "Seeya!"

[justsigma-bsd]

Wtf is going on😭😭🙏🙏

"Too much, really. What I know of:

The rescue mission ended up going haywire, Lovecraft went rouge, the guy turned out to be some sort of... thing that's probably demonic and I don't even want to know anymore, a kid showed up and killed him.

Kris ran away, one of the Dazais ran away last week, Kunikida apparently... is gone.

There's a lot and I'm not quite sure how much I missed while I was gone for a few hours-"

[ech0schamber]

Sleepy Kunikida headcanons

two posts, one night! ...maybe i need to stop drinking coffee at night

☆apparently this man manages to get 7 hours of sleep almost every night?? (again, this is what someone says the guidebooks say and im too fucking lazy to confirm that :p)

☆i bet he has a whole fucking ritual he does before he sleeps and the only times he doesn't adhere to that ritual is when he is so tired that he is falling asleep standing up

☆he's got everything covered, face masks, showers, skin care, the whole works

☆he'll be nice and he won't make you adhere to his complex ritual, he knows that not everyone likes doing that stuff, but he will make sure that you at least brush your teeth before you fall asleep

☆but if you also have a complex ritual you do before you sleep? gossip time! Kunikida may be strict about being professional but that doesn't stop him from eavesdropping on his co-workers, and he has heard some damn good drama going on

☆he tries to make sure you get a full 7 hours of sleep, but say you have insomnia or just have a really hard time falling asleep, he'll understand and he won't push you to get that full 7 hours

☆he will ask that you try sleeping medicine for at least a week though, he's just worried about your health, it's not good to stay awake for that long. if they don't work for you, or you refuse to keep taking this bc they give you nightmares, he won't push you to take them anymore

☆i feel like he is a snuggle bug, but he won't admit it. he'll fall asleep on his back, giving you your space, but within 30 minutes of him falling asleep, his arms around around your waist and his head is nuzzled into your shoulders

☆he probably also snores, but not like that loud ass dad snore, the more comforting small snores where it has to be silent to be able to hear them

☆also, insomniac or not, your ass is staying in bed with him. he doesn't care if you read a book, watch tv, or whatever activity you like to do before sleeping, he wants you to be in bed with him

☆poor baby has paranoia from all the trauma he's endured while working at the agency, if he wakes up and you're not in bed with him, he will start to panic

☆he'll be smart and look around the house to see if you just got up to use the bathroom or make yourself a snack or whatever the fuck you do before he really lets that panic settle in

☆please reassure this man, or at least give him a hug if you do this to him

---

my coffee went cold while i was writing this :'[

also Bohemian Rhapsody is a damn good song

[frankenjoly]

Doing anything

pamper kunikida week 2024 | 2: rainy day + quality time - ft. kunikidazai

Dazai letting himself fall over the couch and taking most of its space while at it wasn’t something new for him, not at all. What Kunikida still was in the process of getting used to, was said couch being his own and Dazai huddling against him while doing it all.

“This is very nice, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Cuddling was surely nice, and that time Dazai had also brought a blanket as well, wrapping them both with it as he made himself comfortable.

And so, just a couple of minutes later, Dazai’s arms were wrapped around his torso, and Kunikida received a cheek kiss before his partner’s face ended up buried in the crook of his neck. Again, he might not be fully used to it yet, but Kunikida definitely looked forward to it happening; besides, there was no doubt it would be sooner rather than later. 

“What do you say about getting yesterday’s leftovers for lunch? Save us the trouble of cooking and whatnot.” Kunikida couldn’t help but smile at the suggestion, how his words sounded a bit muffled, and the soft tickling over his skin caused by Dazai’s hair and lips.

Usually, he preferred having something else in order to have some meals separating the repeating of the same food. But right then, lulled by the sound of rain outside and the warmth surrounding them both, he didn’t need much convincing.

“I say: okay.”

“Wow, who are you and what have you done with my Kunikida-kun?” Obviously, he knew very well how Dazai was merely joking, so his first answer was a sound that consisted of half a scoff and half a laugh.

“I mean, I could get up now and start preparing stuff, leaving you all alone without cuddles for a while and–” Kunikida’s apparent ‘stern’ tone morphed into evident satisfaction when his boyfriend latched onto him with even more intensity, clearly and wordlessly making his point across. “I figured.”

“If you think I’m gonna let you lift a finger on your day off…” Dazai then lifted his head, staring at him with clear intent. There might be no need to say more, but he had chosen to use all ammunition available.

“You know I could get you off me more or less easily, right.” And, just as expected, he saw a smug smile appearing on Dazai’s face at the same time he let those words out. Right after a brief pout, though.

“Damn, you’re kinda making me wish we weren’t on the same page right now, y’know. ‘Cause I’d love it if you tried.”

(Also on ao3.)

[amostimprobabledream]

When your head's in the clouds (keep your feet on the ground) - Ranpo Edogawa x Reader

Also available on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45151330 Getting anything done in the Armed Detective Agency was a struggle sometimes. Case in point. Across the room where you were meant to be typing up a report on a case the agents had recently finished, Kunikida was yelling at Dazai for a slew of complaints that had been lobbied at him recently, apparently for trying to jump off a statue of a historical figure downtown, breaking it and coming out totally unscathed. Naomi was attached to Junichiro's back, cooing as he squirmed in embarrassment and tried in vain to shush her. Atsushi was flailing his hands and protesting some edgy comment Kyoka had probably made (you weren't really listening, you tended to zone out whenever she spoke). With all of it combined, you could barely hear yourself think, let alone write the damn report. Just hang on a bit longer til lunch. you thought, rubbing your temples, the beginnings of a headache blooming. You probably shouldn't have skipped breakfast, but Kunikida was a real stickler for punctuality and you couldn't always guarantee he'd be distracted by Dazai's antics to sneak in without him noticing. And you were running late that day after somehow sleeping in, breaking your favourite bag on the way in and a bunch of other stupid little mishaps, so you weren't in the best of moods.

As you waited for the noise to die down a bit so you could concentrate, your mind drifted to your current obsession - the crime thriller novel you've been reading. You were about halfway through it now and the urge to just whip it out and start reading it in the midst of all this chaos was all too tempting. You'd even brought it with you because you'd taken to wandering around with it in one hand. You were planning to get through more of it on your lunch break.

"You know, my snack drawer is looking pretty empty right about now...”

Your eyes flicked in the direction of the singsong voice. Ranpo perched himself on the edge of your desk and you hastily grabbed it before he ended up knocking it off like a cat would. You wouldn't put it past him.

"Somebody really needs to put a bell on you," you said, rolling your eyes. For somebody who spent most of his time either inhaling candy and never putting on an ounce of weight or sleeping all day, he could be sneaky when he wanted to. "You don't look busy," Ranpo continued, and there was that famous lack of tact of his. "Why don't you take over Kunikida's shopping? He's gonna be busy yelling at Dazai for a while so you might as well." You sighed, which you'd been doing a lot lately. If anybody else had walked up to you and said that, you would have asked them who the hell they thought they were, but it's Ranpo so you let it go because you know he doesn't mean anything by it.

“I’m busy, actually. I’m finishing up a report that’s due by the end of the week.” You told him, then smirked. “Last time I checked, you have working legs. Why don’t you go if your snacks are so important?” “No way! I’d get lost if I tried to find the supermarket all by myself!” Ranpo protested loudly and you marvelled that a twenty-six-year-old man could announce that so freely and confidently. “And anyway, you’re not busy at all – you haven’t typed anything for the last fifteen minutes. Either you’re already finished and just don’t feel like going or you aren’t done and don’t know what to write next so you’re stalling for time.” You’ve seen him do it many times, but you still couldn’t help but marvel at Ranpo’s galaxy brain. He got all that from merely listening for your typing? “I- wow.” You said, closing your mouth. “Okay, fine, you’re right, I am stuck.” “See?” Ranpo smirked. “If you go on a supply run, you’ll get to stretch your legs and can come back to your silly report later. Maybe it’ll give you some fresh ideas of what to write.” It’s sound logic, if a tad bit manipulative given Ranpo made it sound like such a chore a couple of seconds ago, but Yosano, who had also evidently grown weary of all the racket, chimes in. “You might as well go,” she said, shaking her head. “You know Ranpo won’t leave it alone until he gets his own way.” “Nope!” Ranpo admitted with a cheeky little smile that made Yosano smile in response. “If you hurry you can even get back in time to finish that dumb book you’ve been carting around everywhere, even if it’s so obvious who the killer is.” “Wha-?” you blurted out, glancing reflexively at your bag you’d dumped on your desk earlier, where sure enough, a corner of your book is poking out. “You haven’t read it, have you? So how could you-?” “I skimmed the back of it when you went to get a drink earlier,” Ranpo shrugged, and a bubble of relief welled up in your chest. So, he hadn’t actually read it, he was just being dismissive like he usually was when something didn’t interest him. And then he added, “But even so it’s pretty obvious the best friend has to be the killer.” Your mouth fell open. “What?!” you spluttered in disbelief. “That’s- you haven’t even read it! You just admitted as much!” “But the summary says the main character gets the phonecall when the best friend leaves the room to talk to someone on her phone, right?” Ranpo replied, pointing at you. “That gives her the perfect opportunity to overheard everything being said and rush back in when the main character sees what’s in the garden and screams. She has a watertight alibi because she didn’t leave the house the whole time, she was with the main character. Why else would the book even mention when the friend was doing at all?” You’re speechless. As much as you wanted to ignore him, throw his deductions to one side because there’s no way he could know that – the problem is that he can. And it all clicked into place. Every scene from the book was suddenly thrown into a completely different, sinister perspective. Every time the friend offered a shoulder to cry on or was mysteriously absent from the goings-on.

Mystery solved.

Anger boiled up in you, so fast it was like a geyser erupting. Perhaps it wasn’t just Ranpo’s words, maybe it was a culmination of things – stress, frustration, whatever, but it was just so…unfair. You’d been so exhausted the past couple of weeks, that book, the now ruined story, was one of the only things keeping you going. Reading it was your escape from all the annoyances of daily life and occasional dangerous threat that came part and parcel with working for the Armed Detective Agency. Being able to observe a world as a neutral third party, up close and personal with the problems but only as a puzzle to be solved? It’s a luxury that your job, your life, rarely afforded you.

And Ranpo, because he didn’t care, because he never thought about what he said before he just blurted out whatever he felt like, had ruined all of it in one fell swoop. All he cared about was waving his vast intellect around, careless as a madman with a gun. “What the fuck, Ranpo?!” you yelled at him. He had the nerve to look shocked, as well he might – nobody in the Armed Detective Agency ever yelled at Ranpo and the only person who ever scolded him was the president. Even Kunikida deferred to his intelligence and had given up trying to reign in any of his other behaviours. You’ve certainly never so much as raised your voice at him before, no matter how much of a brat he can be. But… “What?” Ranpo said, like he honestly had no idea why you were angry, like your rage had come in as quickly and inexplicably as a bolt of lightning in a clear sky. “I was – I was looking forward to finishing that!” you shouted, hating yourself for how ridiculous you sounded – it was just a book, for god’s sake, but somehow you felt like something had been torn away from you and you couldn’t control yourself. “And you fucking ruined it, you had to spoil it and you don’t even care! All you care about is your fucking candy! You just-“ You broke off just as abruptly, suddenly aware that if you kept yelling like this, you’d start crying and that’s the last thing you wanted. Instead, you just grabbed your bag and ran out of the office with an inarticulate, “Ugh!” of sheer frustration. Ranpo stared after you, his mouth slightly agape. Slowly he shut his mouth, and stood up from your desk, arms limp by his sides. “…I didn’t mean anything by it.” He muttered; more to himself than anyone else. “Was it really not obvious?” Yosano sighed. Your reaction had surprised her, true, and she had no doubt that once you had a little time to cool off, you’d come back and apologise for blowing up at Ranpo like that. It simply wasn’t done in the Armed Detective Agency – Ranpo was the reason it existed at all and everybody knew that. And she knew how fond you were of Ranpo, it was hard to stay angry with him for very long. But even so, she felt for you too. It may have seemed like a small thing, but sometimes it’s the small things that felt the biggest in that exact moment. “She’ll be back.” Yosano assured Ranpo, and he looked up at her. “But in the meantime, I have an idea…” ~ Your walk and subway ride to the supermarket was something of a fog to you – namely because you were so busy fuming to really concentrate on anything else. Arrogant, inconsiderate…manchild! You knew you were being ridiculous – it was just a book and your reaction was out of proportion to the situation. It was simply the straw that broke the camel’s back. But now you knew you’d go through the day feeling flat and defeated. Now you’d just go scrolling idly through your phone or something and curl up on your sofa once you got home, without anything to look forward to. You could watch TV or play games or something, but…it wasn’t quite the same. And you felt kind of stupid for not realising such an obvious twist that Ranpo had discerned merely from glancing at the fucking summary, for god’s sake. It's not his fault he’s a genius. You reminded yourself, arms wrapped around your middle in some fruitless attempt at self-soothing. But he still didn’t have to say anything. He could have just let me enjoy it. Arguing with yourself proved to be a waste of time, of course. As you walked around grabbing things you were pretty sure the Agency was running low on (it wasn’t a perfectly ordered list like Kunikida would have had, of course, but that was too damn bad), you knew you’d already lost most of your initial outrage. You’d have to go back to the Agency with your tail between your legs and apologise to Ranpo. You knew you wouldn’t get one back, because he likely didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, but you did still bad for hurting his feelings. When you got back to the Armed Detective Agency, you were surprised to see it mostly empty. Maybe a job had come up, or people had gone to lunch after you stormed off. You sighed. If that’s the case you wouldn’t be surprised On your desk was a parcel, wrapped in brown paper. Puzzled, you picked it up – you hadn’t expected any mail today and you didn’t usually get anything delivered to the Armed Detective Agency offices anyway, Dazai was horribly nosy and would badger you to tell him everything about any item you got. A brief thought flashed through your mind that it could be something dangerous, maybe sent from somebody in the Port Mafia, but you dismissed it just as quickly – why would they bother targeting you over someone who is a genuine threat to them? It made no sense, and you didn’t think it likely anybody would be able to sneak past both the CCTV, Dazai and Ranpo. Slowly, you tugged off the paper. It was a book. A gorgeous, sleek, heavy paperback book. The pages were so new they were almost blindingly white under the office lighting and the cover had pretty silver filigree around the border. Smoothing your fingertips over the cover, which depicted a woman standing under a street lamp, her profile in shadow, like she’d heard a noise and turned her head to look at it just as the photo was taken. You turned it over and read the synopsis. A crime thriller? Realisation dawned on you and your eyes widened. The door opened and the Tanizaki siblings, Yosano, Kenji and Ranpo all came in, chattering amongst themselves. Yosano and Kenji saw the shopping bags and approached you with a smile. “Hey! Sorry, did you just get back? We wanted to wait for you, but you were gone a little longer than expected. Here, we got you a bento,” Yosano said, rooting around in a bag of her own and handing it to you – it was still warm to the touch. “Thanks,” you said, smiling as you handed Kenji the bags, knowing he’d insist on taking them to the kitchen, and he went off with a happy grin to restock the cupboards. “Where’s Dazai and the others?” “They got a call about a disturbance downtown. They’ll be back later, I’d imagine,” Yosano said, wryly. “Assume this doesn’t have the Port Mafia’s dirty fingerprints on it.” “Right,” you said, but your eyes drifted over to Ranpo, who was already tearing open a bag of gummy bears Kenji must have passed him on his way to the kitchen. Yosano got the hint and excused herself to her clinic, saying she’d better have it ready for when Atsushi inevitably came back with some life-threatening injury. You picked up the book and, taking a deep breath, approached Ranpo at his desk. He pretended not to notice your footsteps until the last second, even though you could practically see his ears pricking up. “Ranpo?” “What is it?” Ranpo said, and though his tone was dismissive, there was a catch in his voice when he spoke. You wondered if it made you a pushover, but his studied attempt to appear unaffected by what happened earlier tugged at your heartstrings all the same. You smiled and leaned down, pressing a quick peck to his cheek, which was pleasantly warm against your lips. Ranpo’s head whipped around so he could stare at you, the sun catching his open eyes and making the green of his irises sparkle like broken glass. “Thank you.” You said, softly, the words only meant for him. You held out the book. “This looks amazing.” “Yeah, well, it should do. I’m the one who picked it out!” he said proudly, trying to play off the faint hint of a blush on his cheeks. “That’s a way better mystery, even I had to look at the first few chapters before I had it all worked out.” You stifled a laugh, imagining Ranpo standing around in a bookshop, holding a giant paperback in his hands and flipping casually through it like it was his own personal library. No doubt he inhaled a few muffins from the coffee shop upstairs while he was at it. “And I’m sorry about-“ you began, hurriedly, since you figured it’d be more awkward for you both to apologise with a room full of people earwigging, but Ranpo waved you off. “Nevermind that. Hey, come look at this new case I’m working on!” You smiled, knowing he’d already forgiven you – he didn’t show his own personal missions to just anyone, and sometimes when he did he’d abruptly dismiss you again once something occurred to him or he just decided he’d told you everything you needed to know. But listening to him talk about them was always fascinating, so, still clutching your new book, you sat down in a free chair and scooched closer. “Tell me all about it.”

[damagedintellect]

Dazai Osamu x reader

💌 Reading into the palms of isekai bullshit:

Chapter 7 💌  

Summary: You were no stranger to isekai bullshit. It’s not like you had a problem with it. The genre took over the anime scene for years now but you try to stay away from thinking about how you would handle the situation. The last time you thought about inserting yourself into your favorite show you wrote a 100k word xReader fic for your favorite characters and you didn’t want to spend all your time consumed by the brainrot again. Never again, you promised yourself that was the last time you’d let the devil on your shoulder win. You clicked on chapter 1 to start the adventure over again but when you opened your eyes and saw Dazai O-FUCKING-samu getting choked by Kunikida you honestly hoped it was a dream.  

Notes:   With Artfight slowing down on my end I have come to feed the hungry readers...also idk why this chapter turned out so angsty bc that wasn't the plan but yeah know what it sounds about right. Another isekai so I can play around with BSD like dolls.

★ Chapters [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] ★

💌 Word count: 2,286 💌 <= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>

A few days later was the day Kunikida had a very important schedule to uphold. Everyone was left to their own devices and it was a nice change of pace compared to the past few weeks. Kunikida had left a few minutes ago while Ranpo was still complaining about the lack of snacks. You had mostly finished up your tasks for the day and were acting like you were still busy so Ranpo wouldn't bother you. It's been weeks since you were relieved of your snack fetching duties but you could feel him practically directing all of his grievances at you specifically. There were other people in the office. Why did it always have to be you who gets the snacks? Aside from Kunikida and Yosano, everyone else was here. You observe Dazai as he agonizes over not being able to ruin Kunikida's day yet. You still don't know what the hell happened the other night.

All you know is that Ranpo made a suggestive comment about it which didn't help you piece anything together. Dazai had been acting weirder than normal too. It's like he was having more mood swings than usual and you’re not sure how much of it is an act. You are also not the only one who's noticed the brunette’s weird behavior, even Atsushi said something about it. Although he thought you and Dazai had an argument because apparently the brunette would tense up at the mention of your name. Even more puzzling was that the moment you were left alone with Dazai he would act one of two ways. One being that he would reluctantly cling to your side, hovering over you like he was expecting or waiting for you to do something or two he would scoff and make some excuse, no matter how stupid, to disappear. Like he actually made it a point to tell you instead of just leaving like he has in the past. Almost like he was reasoning more with himself then having the goal be informing you of his absences. As much as it was intriguing it was almost hard to watch but you didn’t want to ask him about it because who knows what can of worms that will open and you weren’t ready.

Speaking of can of worms, Ranpo has been calling your name trying to get your attention. You slammed your hands on the desk standing up to look at your senpai. "Okay I get it, what snacks do you want?"

"Chips, pocky, ramune and you know what it feels like a melon pan kind of a day!" He smiles wide, kicking his feet up on his desk. Cocky bastard.

You rolled your eyes "So the works then got it," you looked at Dazai who was still moping. "Anyone else need me to pick up anything?" The room filled with a chorus of "No"'s as you grabbed your wallet and made your way out the door. The agency would reimburse you for Ranpo’s snack habits later.

Dazai watched you leave. It's been infuriating that you refused to ask about that night and seemed to brush it off like it didn't matter. So much for that confession of yours. He was aware that, yes, technically he wasn't supposed to know that. He promised you he wouldn't tell, but you told him yourself. He can't get over the fact you haven't picked up his bitterness on the subject or that you are blatantly ignoring it all together. He doesn't understand what your play is and moreover he can't get over the irrational thought of wanting to touch you. It has been driving him insane. He doesn’t get these kinds of impulses but since you shared your feelings with him he wants to be close to you in any way you’ll have him. You were also the one who saw through and called him out on his bullshit, not many could do that so why has that stopped? Is it because you need to see his palm again? Did the alcohol mess with your talent that badly? All he has is more questions and really no way of getting answers out of you unless he talks to you like a normal person. Dazai was by no means a normal person and what was the point if he wasn't supposed to know this information to begin with. If it was anyone else he wouldn't care about the confrontation or lack thereof but he does now and he hates it.

The sound of an incoming text rang out through the office. He looked over at your desk. It was your phone, you forgot it since you stormed off. He sighed, reaching for it. You would be back soon but he was bored and all of his attempts to shake up Kunikida weren’t working either. Was he losing his touch? If he sent Kunikida a message from your phone he would probably have a better chance at fooling the blonde. When he opened up the messenger he nearly dropped the phone as he read who the incoming text was from. 

Chuuya<3

Hey, I have time today if you wanted to do the thing

Dazai gripped the phone tightly, his knuckles turning white. Why was Chuuya messaging you and what was with that contact photo! You were both naked in bed. You looked like an ethereal being while the smug redhead was holding you like he owned you, giving Dazai eyes that were taunting him. It made his blood boil. Was this why you didn’t care to find out about that night? Was this all really just a game to you and how could you betray him with Chuuya of all people! Dazai grit his teeth. Realistically he shouldn't care so why does he feel like this? He knows how demented his line of thought was but for the first time he let his jealousy cloud his judgment. You guys weren't exclusive, heck you guys weren't even anything to begin with. Just two coworkers who sometimes hung out outside of work but still he felt it was a low blow. He needs to stop his train of thought before he does something he'll regret. His emotions were already festering by the time you finally made it back to the office. He felt that itch again, the sudden urge to touch you. Why? He didn't understand it at all.

You dropped the bag of snacks on Ranpo's desk hoping that the ramune crushed a bunch of chips. This is the last time you’d be going on his snack run or else you were going to- you know what you don’t know what you could do as a counter. Ranpo kind of has you by the balls since he knows your secret. You deflated once you realized that he could actually make your life a living hell if he wanted. “Enjoy.” you sigh slouching as you turn around colliding with someone as you were grabbed by the arm and hastily pulled into the infirmary. 

Dazai had dragged you across the office without a word. It was unsettling for the others to witness. Atsushi was concerned he'd never seen such a grim expression on Dazai before. Could it be because he failed at tricking Kunikida and he needed to take it out on someone else? "Shouldn't we stop them?" He asked warily but no one made a move. Everyone continued on like this was an everyday occurrence.

Ranpo only kicked back further into his chair, opening the bag of chips "Leave 'em. You might get scarred for life if you try to intervene." Ranpo rolled his eyes. This is what you get for playing with fire. Although he doesn't exactly know what Dazai saw on your phone, he does know that the two of you were a ticking time bomb and have been the whole week since the fall of the guild. He only hopes you know what you’re doing because babysitting you was not his job unless you were getting him more snacks.

As soon as the door locked, Dazai pushed you against the wall, easily pinning your wrist so you couldn't escape. His tone was dark. It would have made you shake with terror if it wasn't so hot. Right now, the position you were in, was a sexual fantasy of yours for sure. 

"What happened to not being so easy? Huh?" He accused you, almost demanding an answer. It was jarring to hear him be this intense. 

“Um, ow! I don’t even know wha-” He cut you off with a messy kiss, aggressively biting your bottom lip as if to say don’t lie to him. You actually had no idea what he was talking about. In fact you almost thought this was all of his pent up emotions from the past few days.

 "Such a pathetic lie when you throw yourself at anyone who gives you the slightest bit of attention. Tell me was I not-"

"Who am I throwing myself at if not you?" You spat back not waiting for him to finish his monologue. You were furious because from your point of view you have no idea what the fuck he's going on about. He's the one who's been acting strange. If anything you should be the one yelling at him for not talking with you if he had an issue. Although you should have seen that coming. Technically it's what he was doing right now so you guess he did get there eventually but still you were mildly flustered and enraged with the delivery.

Dazai was silently scanning your eyes. You weren't lying to him. His fingers were digging into your wrist and your heart rate remained the same. Your eyes were clear and there were no obvious tells that your statement was false. He fucked up. He was wrong. He knew he was from the start but the impulses were too much for the rational part of his brain to stop while he was ahead. This is why he distanced himself. He wasn't capable of having nice things. He's spent so long waiting for the other shoe to drop he can't even trust that things could be different this time. As he loosened his grip on you the words cascaded from his mouth. "Then why did you sleep with Chuuya?" It shouldn't hurt him but it made his heart clench just the same. Dazai has had his fair share of one night stands. Sometimes it was nice to feel a human connection with another person. It should be no different but this was you. When did you become so important to him?

Your eyes widened in shock. He saw the photo. The trap you had set up weeks ago. Dazai was jealous, it worked. That's why he'd been acting weird. How long has he kept this to himself? Was that why he wanted you to ask about that night and the things you don't remember? Before you could register your actions your body moved on its own to close the distance between you with a tender kiss. Caressing his face you looked him in the eyes. It was now or never.  "Dazai, I am in love with you! Chuuya was only trying to help make you jealous so I could gauge if you even remotely liked me back." You blurted it out in a huff as you watched his expression drop and become unreadable. 

"Well it's a shame I don't feel the same because right now I think I hate you the most." There was no emotion to his words and he practically vanished out of thin air. Dazai needed space while he figured out what was going on in his head. Isolation was the only thing he knew that would bring him said clarity. He doesn’t regret his word choice but he also doesn’t think hate was the right word for it. He was irritated for sure but he didn’t exactly hate you. He definitely hated the situation though. The brunette was still wondering how you managed to get under his skin like this. Now that he wasn’t in the same room as you he understands the train of thought behind the picture and how Chuuya’s involvement led to the prank. It was partially his fault you even met to begin with. This also answered his questions about the redhead after the encounter. Looking back this must be how the others feel when he pulls one over on them. It was not a pleasant feeling.

 The room spun around you in a blur. It took you longer than you would have preferred to get yourself together and rush out of the infirmary. All the others pretended to mind their own business but you didn’t see Dazai so he probably bailed out of the office. You had to fix this before it was too late. Although something in the back of your mind wasn’t adding up. Why now? If he knew about the picture since that night why was it only today that he brought it up in a blind furry? There had to have been something to trigger this reaction. You don’t bother making an excuse to leave the office but you do grab your phone from Dazai’s desk. It didn’t click until you were halfway down the stairs that you had left your phone on your desk so how did it end up on Dazai’s. You frantically checked your messages and sure enough there was one from Chuuya. You frowned as you messaged him back blatantly lying about the other’s reaction to the prank. On one hand it did work as intended but how did it end up like this?

★ ★ ★ Pervious Chapters [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]  ★ ★ ★

[fancyfeathers]

Society of Protection (Yandere Bungo Stray Dogs x reader x original characters) (normalized yandere au)

Chapter Nine

A Loving Father

Prologue and oc intro

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven, part one

Chapter seven, part two

Chapter eight

Due Henrik’s ability it sent the Guild spiraling, dozens of men in the hospital from being tosses around like a rag doll. Margaret Mitchell was knocked unconscious for days, Nathaniel had to set stitches on the back of his head and was full of fire when he heard of Emma’s escape to the point where he left the Guild. But no one was raging like Fitzgerald in the Society’s escape, to the point where he called for the emergency plan, but you in the underground hideout of the Armed Detective Agency had no idea of the chaos that was happening. All you currently knew from Agency’s and the Society’s conversations in their new found alliance was that someone named Atsushi was captured by the Guild and that Dazai was in a car accident with his government agent friend.

You were sitting alone in the agency’s hide out, reading a book Gaston had given you when you felt someone sit down next to you, you turned and saw president Fukuzawa sitting down next to you. When you went to go look at him he asked you a simple question. “Why did you join the society?”

“Huh? Why do you ask, sir?” You said, cocking your head to the side, curious to his question. His eyes doted from you, then back to looking straight ahead, and you could swear you could see the slightest bit of pink forming on his cheeks.

“You are an enigma to your society, not like the rest. Everyone else alright knew each other prior to joining, have a large amount of wealth to their names, abilities. You on the other hand barely knew three members prior to joining, have near to no money, and no ability to speak of… you’re hard to place.”  He spoke with no emotion in his voice, it was just facts, plain and simple. “Not even Ranpo can place the reason behind you joining. So why did you?”

“Sir, I have no family to speak of, my friends all gone, I’m all alone in this world. Well I was until I met Gaston, then Miss Jane, then Victor, and the rest of the society. They were the first time I haven’t felt alone in a long time, I finally had a place where I fit in for once, a new found family.” You said with a smile, thinking about the last few weeks you have spent in this society, they were like your family now. “I’d also do not want to live in a world where I live in fear of tomorrow, nor a world where I’m told to sit down, shut up, and do as I’m told like some pet. I just want to be free, free to live, free to dream.”

“I see…” his head turned to look down at you once more and now you felt a bit of unease as his gaze fell on you. “Not everyone would treat you like that, like a pet that is. What if someone wanted to protect you, keep you safe from the dangers of this world, someon-

When you felt his hand to drift down and touched yours as he spoke, you quickly stood up, leaving him in a slightly shocked state. “Sir, respectfully, a golden cage is still a cage.”

Before he could respond the doors to the hall opened and Kunikida and Victor rushed inside, both men clearly out of breath. Everyone in the hall looked at them, Victor had clearly taken beating, his face and arms were all bruised and cut up, you could imagine that his legs were much the same. Kunikida supported the Frenchman, Victor’s arm over his shoulder so he could support his weight. Fukuzawa also stood up to look at them, worry apparent on his face “What is going on?”

“Streets have turned to madne- motherfucker!” Victor started as Kunikida helped him onto a bench, his hand slightly grazing against one of the wounds on Victor’s arm. Miss Jane ran to Victor’s side, worry in her face. He gasped for breath, his lungs burning before continuing on. “It’s that kid’s ability, Q. I think the Guild has him.”

Panic came across almost everyone’s face’s except for Gaston. He was sitting in the front of the hall, he didn’t even get up or turn around when the door open but now he spoke up. “Don’t rush out there, you’ll only get yourselves killed. My guess, and I’m rarely wrong, is that your tiger kid is going to escape from the Guild by some force on the inside with Q’s doll. The Guild will chase him down but that Dazai of yours is gonna come to his rescue at the last moment and neutralize the doll.”

“But Dazai was-“

“In a car accident? All apart of his plan.” Gaston said, cutting off the red head, Junichiro. “Once he gets back, we’ll need to think of ways to get Q back and stop this from happening again because otherwise this will keep on happening with no consequences to the Guild until Yokohama is destroyed. I don’t know about the agency but I think an alliance with the Port Mafia would be the best route of action.”

There was a dead silence in the room and all eyes were on the composer and he only said…

“I’m not joking.”

—————————

Turns out Gaston’s predictions were right on the money. Soon the city calmed from the fit of madness it was sent into earlier and both Miss Jane and Fukuzawa deemed it safe to leave the hideout. You all in the Society couldn’t return to the apartment complex yet, due to it being under Guild surveillance but luckily in your new found alliance the agency allowed you to set up in their building for the time being. Atsushi and Dazai had returned and soon the planning for the meeting with the Port Mafia was underway, like Fukuzawa Miss Jane wasn’t going to bring all her members, only a select few that may help in a pinch, Gaston, Dr. Stevenson, and…

“Me?” You asked as Miss Jane stood next to you as you walked down the hallway back up to the agency from a brief walk you took with her this morning. “Why me?”

“Because, you are the only member of our organization who knows the Port Mafia.” She said, her never ceasing smile on her face. “And well I trust you.”

“I know ma’am, but trust me with your life?” 

She only smiles and nodded. “I would trust you with much more than that if you would allow me.”

—————————

So now you waited in a garden along with your coworkers and members of the agency. While everyone had their abilities to defend themselves with, you were armed with only a hand gun, a month ago you couldn’t imagine yourself even touching one but now it was just a normal part of life. Gaston sat down by Dazai and it seemed like those two were in a conversation of sorts while everyone else was mostly waiting in silence or talking in hushed tones. So you went out and sat down next to Gaston, him acting as a wall between you and Dazai who you weren’t the most fond of. Dazai flashed you a smile, but you simply looked away, just because you were allies did not mean you had to like him.

“You wound me, Belladonna. So cold.” Dazai speaks in an over dramatic tone, hand on his forehead like he’s about to faint.

“I have a gun in my pocket if you want me to actually wound you.” You snapped back, not in the mood for jokes from him but he only turned to you with a little bit of a wicked grin.

“Sure- ow!” Dazai was quickly shut up with a smack upside the head by Gaston.  “What was that for?!”

“Please do not flirt with my coworker via means of harming yourself.“ Gaston pushed up his glasses on his nose, not even looking at Dazai. “Besides it seems our friends have arrived.”

Both you and Dazai turned to see where Gaston was looking and on the path leading here there where four individuals, all who you saw earlier, all members of the Port Mafia, including the doctor who you know as the leader. Dazai smiled and looked over to them, to the doctor. “Welcome, boss.”

“It’s been four years.” The doctor spoke with a smile, like nothing was wrong. He was dressed differently as well, a nice suit, hair tied back, black jacket, and a red scarf. “Do you happen to remember the coat that I gave you, Dazai?”

“Of course!” Dazai spoke in a happy melodic tone as he jumped off from the short stone wall you three sat on. Then his demeanor changed to a tone of more serious, darker personality. “I had it burned.”

The doctor’s gaze drifted to you for a long moment, his eyes studying you, almost uncomfortably so. But before he could say something, another voice spoke up, to your rescue it was Fukuzawa. “Ougai Mori, boss of the Port Mafia.”

You turned to see Everyone else stepping out from where they were hidden, everyone but Junichiro… actually where was he? You didn’t see him anywhere. “President of the Agency, Yukichi Fukuzawa.” Then who you now learned as Mori looked to Miss Jane. “And if I had to guess, you’re the head of the society, Miss Jane Austen?”

“That would be correct.” Miss Jane nodded, stepping up next to Fukuzawa but she did not walk forward when Fukuzawa and Mori did. When you looked at her with a questioning glance she looked at you in the corner of her eye and gave a little wink and it was as if you could hear her voice in your mind saying, everything according to plan.

“So the time has finally come.”

“If the government found out that the leaders of the most powerful gifted organizations were meeting like this, I’m sure that they would be absolutely furious to say the least.”

“I’ll get straight to business then.” Fukuzawa said, pushing introductions aside. “A new member of the agency along with a trusted member of the society purposed an alliance between our three organizations “

“And?”

“I objected at first. The idea of cooperating with criminals goes against everything our organization stands for, not to mention the point of view from the society on this seeing as they have no place in this country.” You could see both Miss Jane’s fists clench despite the smile on her face and the emotionless face on Gaston nearly scowling at that. “But the request from the agency member came from someone who has been shot, kidnapped, slashed, and beaten by the Port Mafia, thus his word carried weight. I felt that I should investigate his request at the very least.”

“It would seem that we are both in a rather difficult position.” Mori replied, the more that they spoke, the less it seemed that they viewed the society as a valid power in this conflict.

“These are my thoughts, at the very least I would like to purpose a temporary truce between us.”

“Have you ever read the works of Schelling or perhaps Kissinger?” Mori asked after Fukuzawa’s requests.

“Both are researches of strategic studies, taught by a certain you know who. I know that Leroux and Miss Jane have read them both, I saw them reading their works this morning.” Dazai said, walking forward, this made Miss Jane raise an eyebrow at this and walk forward, joining along side the leaders and Dazai.

“I do read Sun Tzu.” Fukuzawa replied. 

“Like Dazai said, I am familiar.” Miss Jane spoke with a seriousness in her tone, no more smiling.

“There is a parallel between state warfare and strategies of organizations like ours. No force shall reprimand if we violate an agreement, what sanctions could be proposed if the Port Mafia suddenly broke a ceasefire? Or either of your people for that matter? Only the party that decided to uphold the agreement would suffer. As long as circumstances prevail which incentivize betrayal a limited ceasefire cannot be established. The only option left is for complete corruption.”

“Which is also impossible.” Miss Jane said, stealing the words right from Dazai before he could speak.

“Indeed, the Port Mafia is an organization of pride and resentment. Manny of my people have been dragged through the grime and muck.” Mori said, glancing at the British woman.

“Many of mine have been brought to the brink of death as well.” Fukuzawa added.

“Every single one of mine have risked everything they have ever had to do what they are doing now.” Miss Jane stepped in, now she was completely pissed off with Mori, it looked like she was ready to give him a black eye. But something about the both of their responses set more off, a clear expression of anger came across his face.

“But they didn’t die, did they? That is a source of shame for the Port Mafia.” Mori looked completely mad at this point. Dr. Stevenson saw all of this and began walking forward, ready to drag Miss Jane out of this.

“Then why don’t we have it out now?” Fukuzawa reached for his katana on his waist as Dr. Stevenson approached, panicked and now reaching out for Miss Jane. “Let’s settle this and put all of our grievances to rest.”

Port Mafia members jumped forward, ready to defend Mori, but Fukuzawa disarmed them as soon as the came. You watched as he cut through their weapons… how? He reached out to cut down Mori right as Dr. Stevenson was about to grab Miss Jane, but Mori was able to quickly dodge, grabbing Mis Jane by the wrist and wrapping his arm around her neck so that he could easily break it if need be. When the dust cleared you saw Miss Jane with Mori’s arm around her neck, Mori with Fukuzawa’s katana to his neck, Fukuzawa with Mori’s scalpel to his neck, and at Mori grabbing Miss Jane, Doctor Stevenson had drawn her gun and aimed it right at Mori’s head.

“I thought you had discarded your katana, you really haven’t changed at all, have you Fukuzawa?”

“And you still haven’t outgrown your obsession with scalpels, Dr. Mori. You still carry on like a little girl.” Fukuzawa’s eyes drifted over to Dr. Stevenson who held the gun to Mori’s head and Miss Jane whose breathing was panicked. “And it seems like you are always a guardian, Dr. Stevenson. Even when matters don’t involve you.”

“If it came to Miss Jane, it always involves me.” She said, not even glancing at the president. Then… snow fell from the sky, catching Mori off guard, along with yourself for that matter. Fukuzawa disappeared like a hologram and in Mori’s surprise Miss Jane tucked her head in, spun around out of the chokehold and kicked Mori back in the gut with her healed shoe. Everyone turned around to see Fukuzawa standing there, along with Junichiro. Miss Jane smoothed her gown as Dr. Stevenson came to stand in between her and Mori.

“A hologram ability, I see.” Mori turned away from you all, and began walking away. “I enjoyed our encounter, let’s continue it on the battle field.” 

“The agency and the society will be recovering Q tonight.” Fukuzawa spoke up as Mori walked off, he paused at the president’s words.

“What of it?”

“I would advise you not to get in our way, for our sake as well as yours.”

“Why’s that?”

“We actually have something in common, something important to us, that while the society respects not all of them can understand. We both have a love for this city. As people who live here and work to keep it safe we cannot allow outside forces to destroy it, which is why I believe Miss Jane and her society came all this way, to protect the people.” Fukuzawa explained, he glanced at Miss Jane for a response.

“More or less.” She said nodding. “But that is all with our cause you need to worry yourself with.”

“The Guild is powerful, you stand no chance against them.” Mori paused before turning around to look at Dazai. “That’s right, before I go my offer still stands if you want to come back into the fold, Dazai.”

You looked over to the brunette with a shocked expression on your face at those words. “Not a chance, after all you were the reason I was pushed out of the Port Mafia in the first place.”

Your eyes widened, Dazai was in the Port Mafia? Part of you expected that but now that you heard it, it startled you.

“As I recall you left out of your own volition.”

“You were afraid of me weren’t you?” Dazai asked to Mori’s statement. “Afraid that I would aspire to take your position, that one day I would run a knife across your throat just like you did to your predecessor. They say evil expects evil from others. I don’t like the idea of laying with you either.”

Mori sighed at this and turned to look at Miss Jane. “One last thing before I leave, a question.” He pointed towards you, sitting on the ledge. “Why have Miss (Name) join your organization?”

Miss Jane smiled and stepped forward so that she was only a foot away from the Mafia Boss. She reached into her dress pocket and pulled out something you couldn’t see but you could hear what she said as a smile came across Mori’s face. “Call it nostalgia.”

—————————

You now stood outside the agency where now everyone were packing up their belongings from the short time they spent here. You stood by Miss Jane’s side as she spoke to president Fukuzawa and Dazai who stood by his side. Miss Jane shook Fukuzawa’s hand as she bud him goodbye for now.“I apologize for taking our leave from you so soon, see from what Gaston and I both can tell, we’re not needed here in this plan anymore. We’ll have Alexandre and Gaston stake out the sight while you are retrieving Q, but I doubt it will be needed especially if everything goes to plan.”

“If I may ask, where will you all be off to next? You’ll be staying in Japan, correct?” Fukuzawa asked. Miss Jane nodded, releasing his hand and placing it next to her other hand on the handle of her bag.

“Yes, I have some places I want to visit with (Name). Places I want her to see.” Miss Jane said, bumping you playfully with her arm. You gave a weak smile, but your mind was elsewhere, what did Miss Jane show Mori?

“Oooo sight seeing, how fun.” Dazai piped up with a laugh.

“Not quite,” Miss Jane stood her head no. “Call it a trip down memory lane.”

Fukuzawa only nodded as William walked up to you two, but something felt off about him. “We’re all set to go, Lady Jane, Miss (Name), but are you sure about this?”

“I’m positive, William. This is all for the best.” Miss Jane’s voice turned sad before taking a breath and smiling. “Now let’s be off, no time to waste.”

—————————

Miss Jane took you in her car while everyone else went off on their own. Upon entering, Miss Jane gave the driver an envelope, telling him to open it when the time is right. As the car drove off you both sat in silence, a bittersweet expression on Miss Jane’s face. When you asked what the matter was or where she was going she simply told you not to worry. It wasn’t a long drive but soon you both arrived, the driver opened the door to reveal a manor, it was older, seemingly abandoned, European in style, and it vaguely felt familiar to you. The driver helped you and Miss Jane out, she lead you up to the house and pulled out a key and unlocked it before handing you they key. “This is rightfully yours, your father gave it to me before he disappeared.”

Your eyes widened in shock. Your father? You had no clue whatsoever about your father besides he was a detective, you didn’t even know his name, you were raised by your uncle and aunt after his disappearance when you were a baby. “M-my, father. You knew my father?”

“Quite well in fact, your father was good friends with my parents. He gave that to me the night he disappeared, you were only a baby. He told me we would meet and we both would achieve great things.” She lead you into the abandoned mansion. “This was your father’s hide out here in Japan, he was certainly a man with class.”

She lead you to a study, gothic in style. On the wall you saw a portrait, it was of a man, in his thirties with curly brown hair and brown eyes, in his arms he held a baby, a little girl. “Is that him? My father?”

“It is.” She nodded and walked over to the desk as you stared at the portrait. You heard her rummaging in the drawers before pulling out a piece of paper and walking back over to you. “He was a brilliant detective, but even more than that he was a loving father. The day he adopted you was the best day of his life and the day he had to leave you was the worst.” 

She handed you the papers and you looked down at it. It was a will and adoption papers, it had your name, you flipped through it and then you saw the signature… no way. Your breath hitched in your throat, how is this possible? Miss Jane smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder. You looked over at her with a shocked expression. “This can’t be real… this can’t be…”

“It is, your father was a very good man, a genius, a gentleman, he loved you so dearly.” She looked away from you and back to the portrait of you and your father. “You are destined for great things, Miss (Name). Just like your father…”

Next to the portrait there was a window, you saw a yellow car pull up behind your black car. This snapped you out of your thoughts and you looked back at Miss Jane with a curious expression, her eyes were also on the car and she just smiled and nodded. “Seems like our time together is over.” 

“What do you mean?”

She merely hummed and walked out of the study, you quickly followed behind, asking her what was going on, over and over again but she never gave you an answer. She opened the front door and you saw standing against the yellow car, a smiling figure, Fitzgerald. Then it all snapped as Miss Jane turned to you and handed you an envelope. “Give this to Dr. Stevenson. My time as the leader of the Society has come to an end.”

“W-why?” You asked, tears forming in your eyes. “Why are you giving up, Miss Jane?”

“It’s the only way. Gaston and William had the same reaction when I told them, but they know this the only way to stop all this.” She reached out a hand and whipped away your tears before leaning forward and kissing your forehead, like a mother. “Make your father proud, (Name).” 

You watched in horror as Miss Jane walked forward and to Fitzgerald’s awaiting embrace. You watched as he kissed her on the cheek and opened the car door for her before following himself. The car drove off and your sobs echoed in the empty air, you fell to your knees and you looked down at the documents in your hands, you saw the the signature and you spoke to yourself, drying your tears with your sleeves. “I’ll make you proud Miss Jane, I’ll make you proud father.”

Your fingertips traces your father’s signature on the adoption papers, Arthur Conan Doyle, other wise known as Sherlock Holmes.

[bnesszai]

skk Valentine's week day 7 @bsdfanweek prompts i used were: "kissing you is like a death wish", pining/longing, at your fingertips, and "you call that flirting?" Thank you @squidsandthings for the prompt ideas 💚

Hurt/comfort. I have 0 explanation for this. The writing mood of me last night is different than me this morning apparently so um. Yeah.

Kissing you is a death wish, Dazai thinks, delirious from the lack of oxygen.

Chuuya's brows furrow and he says something, but it sounds like Dazai is still underwater. He lifts a hand through the currents, heavy and slow, and traces Chuuya's jaw with a fingertip. 

A kiss of death, Dazai thinks, maybe that's why I can't die yet. Because I haven't tasted the poison on your lips. 

Something flashes across Chuuya's face but Dazai is so, so far away. He thinks he grins to himself, but then the world turns upside down so he isn't sure.

Black is such a nice color.

*

Dazai wakes up much the way he lives: gasping as if he can't breathe right.

“Shhh.” 

Something gentle rubs circles into his chest. His chest that is devoid of bandages and only covered by a thin shirt. Something thick crawls up his throat.

“It's just me,” a voice says. Warm fingertips, circles, one blue and one amber eye tracing the lines of his face. 

“Chuuya,” he murmurs.

“Who else?"

Dazai swallows down whatever it is that tries to climb his throat and escape. He bites at the words pressed against the back of his lips and regains control of his treacherous heartbeat.

“Chuuya,” he says again. “Why are you here?”

“This is my apartment.”

Which would explain the soft blankets and comfortable mattress. “Why am I here?”

Concern stitches its way between Chuuya's eyebrows. “What do you remember?”

A crashing of waves above his head, a rush of water in his lungs, the darkness edging into his vision. The sweet release was within reach, just past his fingertips, and then he was wrenched away and forced to breathe.

“A fever dream,” he says.

Chuuya sighs. “Do you remember what you said?”

Dazai is dumbfounded, which is an unusual feeling. He hates it. He could hardly drag oxygen into his lungs, let alone expel enough to say anything. Unless….

Something swarms in Dazai's gut. He can remember incoherent, mad thoughts. If those had not been contained to his mind, then— 

“What are you talking about?” Dazai pushes a laugh from his lungs. It burns. “Chibi must need his ears checked because I didn't say anything.”

Chuuya studies him for a moment longer. Then, he leans back and withdraws his hand. “I see,” is all he says, flat and not full of the bursting energy he always exhibits.

Dazai feels very cold.

*

The idea of longing is something that sits heavy on Dazai's chest.

The weight grows when he looks at Atsushi and Kyouka making a grocery list, or Kunikida smiling as he writes in his notebook, or when Ranpo delights in a new treat. The weight grows when he thinks about rest.

The weight of longing threatens to crush his lungs when he so much as thinks about gravity.

Dazai throws back warm whiskey in an attempt to drown it away.

*

“Why did you save me?”

“‘Cause, asshole, if you're gonna die, it'll be by my hands.”

“Well, get on with it then.”

In front of them, the television flashes with some generic action movie. Dazai has not paid attention to a single second of it. On the other end of the couch, Chuuya sits, looking oddly tense for someone wearing sweatpants and a shirt that hangs off one shoulder. His hair is pulled into a messy bun, hat hanging by the door, and gloves sitting on the coffee table. He's giving Dazai a look that Dazai can't quite discern.

“What's your preferred method?” Chuuya asks after a long stretch of silence.

Dazai's mouth falls open, just a touch. He recovers quickly. “Double suicide with a beautiful—”

“Stop fucking lying to me.”

Dazai's mouth clicks shut. He tilts his head to the side, seeing something burning in Chuuya's eyes. At the sight, the longing takes his breath away.

“You want to die by poison.”

The air that was sucked out of Dazai's lungs slams back in, resulting in a choked laugh. “Slow and painful,” he gasps between coughs. “I don't like pain.”

“I hear there are some poisons that are quick and soothing.” Chuuya has an eyebrow raised, like a challenge. He moves over on the couch, closer, fingertips just shy of grazing Dazai's thigh. “Would you like to try?”

There's something static in the air. Something in the way Chuuya's gaze burns right through him. Something in the way Chuuya's cheekbones are dusted pink but the smile on his lips is sharp and sure. Something in the way Dazai seems unable to nullify the gravity between them.

Instead of doing any of the things he wants to do, Dazai doesn't so much as move, he just smirks. “You call that flirting?”

“What, like you're any better?” Chuuya laughs and this time, his hand does land on Dazai's lef, caressing his knee. “What was it you said? I'll make you my dog for life, hmm?” Chuuya's other hand reaches up, fingertips ghosting over the lines of Dazai's face.

Dazai might combust, but he refuses to lose. He puts a hand at Chuuya's hairline and lets it fall down his face before tilting Chuuya's chin up with a finger. Leaning in close, he can see the glint in Chuuya's eyes. “It worked, didn't it?”

“Did it? It's been seven years since and you've yet to claim your kiss of death.”

“I'm a patient man.”

Chuuya scoffs. “Bullshit. You have the patience of a fucking toddler. You're just a coward.”

Dazai grips Chuuya's jaw, grinning when it pulls a subtle breath from him. “And what does that make you?”

The fire in Chuuya's eyes spills out, fanning over Dazai's skin, seeping into his veins, pooling in his gut.

“I'm the patient one,” Chuuya says, evenly, and then he closes the distance between them before Dazai can so much as begin a retort.

The kiss is scalding, hungry, wandering and clutching hands, teeth and tongue.

It is a poison. It is a poison that makes Dazai's brain turn to white noise, makes his limbs hot and heavy. It is a death wish in the way that it makes Dazai want to climb inside of Chuuya's mouth and be devoured.

Black is a nice color, but red might be better.

[silvfyre-writings]

You don't need to be strong right now (BSD Fanfic)

Hello~ It's certainly been a while since I've posted anything.

I've been a little busy you see, and life is just a little stressful so I haven't been writing as much, but rest assured, that things are calming down and I am working on my stories again! (Plz trust me when I say paperboy will get updated this month. I'm like, nearly halfway through the next chapter)

Today I bring you another Ranpo having a mental breakdown fic because apparently that's my new favorite trope to explore so I hope you enjoy!!!

They’d won.

So why did it feel like they hadn’t?

Why did it feel like there was still some kind of threat, lurking in the darkness and waiting to strike the moment they let their guard down?

And why was Ranpo the only one that seemed to notice it?

He didn’t understand where the feeling came from, yet no matter how much he tried to ignore and push past it, he just couldn’t. And really, he shouldn’t even be feeling this way, because they’d won in their fight against Fukuchi and his allies, and things were finally getting back to normal, and they had, for the most part, healed from their injuries, and—

—and everything was fine, really, so why was Ranpo still so on edge, a week after everything had gone down? Why did his heart continue to race like he was still in the race to outsmart Dostoyevsky? Why did his hand—the one that’d been run through by that sword—still continue to shake?

The answer was he didn’t know, and it wasn’t like he could bring up this uncertainty of his to anyone because everyone was dealing with their own problems following the whole Decay of Angels debacle, and besides… Ranpo was the strongest, he was the pillar, he was the one that everyone looked up to and relied on when things got hard, and he most certainly couldn’t be the one to fall apart. Not now, not ever.

“Ranpo-san.” Tanizaki’s voice interrupted his thoughts, and Ranpo allowed his eyes to flick open just long enough to see the case file in Tanizaki’s hands, stamped with the familiar logo of the police force. Ah, so they’re finally reaching out. It only took them a week to realize they need my skills. There was an awkward silence as Ranpo didn’t say anything, instead reaching out to grab at a lollipop he didn’t try to unwrap, and he heard Tanizaki make a sound. “Umm… the police are requesting your assistance, Ranpo-san.”

“So?” Ranpo scoffed, twirling the lollipop between his fingers. He felt no desire to take on the case; it was a simple one that Tanizaki could do himself, so there was no need for him to waste the time and energy in going all the way out to the crime scene anyway. He had far more important things to do like sit in his chair and do nothing. Because that’s what he was doing; nothing. He wasn’t falling apart. He was fine. “Do it yourself.”

Tanizaki glanced over his shoulder, and a sigh echoed from across the room—Kunikida’s desk to be exact—and Ranpo’s eyes opened once again to see the exasperated look on the other mans face. Kunikida’s eyes met his own, and he sighed again. “Ranpo-san… we’re all working right now on cases of our own. Hell, even Dazai is working for a change. The police asked for you specifically, so please—”

“Boring. Kunikida-kun’s become even more of a workaholic since Fukuzawa-san went off to Tokyo.” Ranpo whined and spun his chair around to avoid making eye contact with any of his coworkers. He stared down at the lollipop in his hand, ignoring the way his hand shook at Kunikida’s unimpressed tone before he unwrapped it and shoved it into his mouth. “I’m not doing it. Get Atsushi-kun or Kenji-kun to do it.”

“Ranpo-san—”

“It’s fine, Kunikida-san.” A chair scraped against the floor, the noise harsh on Ranpo’s ears, as Atsushi stood. “I just finished the job I was working on, so I can go out and help the police.” There was a pause, Atsushi obviously hesitating. “I—I know I’m not Ranpo-san, b-but—”

Kunikida’s voice softened, so different to when he’d been scolding Ranpo just a second ago. It made Ranpo’s gut churn. “But nothing, lad. You’re more than capable. Just do your best, alright?”

Ranpo didn’t hear Atsushi’s response, because he tuned out the conversation the moment it no longer involved him. He continued to remain where he was, facing away from everyone else, pretending that he couldn’t hear the whispers that broke out across the room. Really, his coworkers were fools if they thought he couldn’t hear them, but still, he didn’t turn around or tell them to shut up. They were just worried about him, and he couldn’t begrudge them that, as stupid as he thought it was.

He was the strongest, he was their pillar; they didn’t need to worry about him.

Because he was fine.

Unlike Dazai, who’d only just returned to work after being cleared by Yosano, albeit on desk duty until he grew more accustomed to the cane he now had to use because the escape from Mersault had shattered his leg.

Unlike Kunikida, who was even more stressed and exhausted because Fukuzawa was still too lost in his grief for his childhood friend, that he’d had to take over leading the Agency in his stead until further notice.

Unlike Atsushi, who’d gone through his own personal hell not knowing whether the Agency—the closest thing he had to a family—was going to be alright, and not knowing whether the fight against the Decay of Angels was going to end in their victory or not.

The point that Ranpo was trying to make, was that everyone’s worry was misplaced, because whilst everyone had been fighting and nearly dying, Ranpo had just been there on the sidelines, watching it all happen from the safety of Lucy Montgomery’s ability. And before her, it’d been one Edgar Allan Poe that he’d turned to, using his friend’s mansion as a safehouse to hide whilst the rest of the Agency had been fighting for their lives, unsure of whether he’d been alive or dead until he’d stepped in to rescue them.

He. Was. Fine.

And the sooner they realized it, the better.

“Ranpo-san, are you okay?” For the second time that day, someone approached him, and he turned his chair around just enough to see Kenji standing beside his desk, a frown on his face.

It was an expression that Kenji never should’ve had to wear, but here he was, frowning out of worry for Ranpo. Kenji too, had gone through it, fighting harder than he’d ever fought before against one of the Hunting Dogs, winning the fight, and then helping said Hunting Dog to find his missing friend just because he could, and said missing friend currently resting in the infirmary because after Fukuchi’s death, no one had known what to do with the Hunting Dogs, and by the time Ranpo had woken from his nearly two day long nap, the decision had already been made that the Agency would take responsibility for them.

A decision that he wasn’t happy about.

It made Ranpo feel uneasy, knowing that there was only a door separating him and his friends from the men that had hunted them down without mercy at the beginning of the whole debacle. And while Tecchou and his still unconscious friend—Jouno, Kenji had told him he was called—hadn’t caused any problems, Ranpo didn’t like that they were there in the first place. But apparently, he was the only one who was bothered by their presence; even Dazai, who was just as cautious as Ranpo was, wasn’t bothered by them being there.

So Ranpo pushed aside his misgivings and just pretended that Tecchou and his friend didn’t exist. Which was easier said than done when the man made his appearance several times a day to ask Yosano—or whoever was available if she happened to be out—to check on Jouno’s slowly healing injuries. He’d asked Yosano once why she hadn’t just healed them and sent them on their way, and she’d explained that because of their enhancements, she didn’t want to risk doing more harm than good until they could get in contact with the doctors that had done said enhancements.

It made sense, but Ranpo’s stomach had rolled at she said it. The Agency was too caring at times, focused on helping others when they should be helping themselves instead, and it seemed that once again, Ranpo was the only one to think that; no one had complained when Yosano had made the decision, and the younger members had all been more than happy to help. And Ranpo had just laid there, in a bed on the opposite side of the infirmary—Fukuchi had given him a concussion so bad he couldn’t even sit up without falling over—pretending to sleep when in reality, he was watching for the first sign of danger.

Danger that never came, but it didn’t hurt to be on the lookout.

“Ranpo-san?” Kenji’s voice took on a frightened tone, and he realized that he’d never answered the boy’s question.

A wide smile grew on his face as he spun his chair back around to face the room, kicking his feet up onto the desk, and throwing his arms behind his head, the position he always assumed when everything was fine and dandy, when he could afford to be light-hearted and joking. Internally though, he felt nauseous, and it felt like there was someone behind him, breathing on his neck even though all that was there, was the back of his chair. Something was wrong that he couldn’t yet pinpoint. But he would, because he was the best and he was fine. “Everything’s fine, Kenji-kun! But shouldn’t you be getting lunch for your friends in the infirmary right about now?”

He didn’t like the Hunting Dogs, but Kenji did.

“Oh yes, of course! In fact, I was just about to go and get lunch for everyone.” Kenji’s smile matched the size of his own, the boy’s worry disappearing all because Ranpo was smiling, and if Ranpo was smiling, he must be fine.

Which he was, fine that is.

“You just didn’t answer when I asked, that’s all.” Kenji continued to say.

“Eh, I have snacks, I don’t need lunch.” Ranpo shrugged, making a point to open a packet of chips and shove a handful into his mouth, just barely remembering to pull the lollipop out of his mouth in time. The chips were tasteless as he chewed them, it truly felt like he was trying to chew on wood. But he forced himself to eat them, because if he was eating there was nothing to worry about, and waved Kenji away with a hand. “Off you go, there’s a lot of hungry people in the room right now. Better feed them before they starve.”

Kenji continued to look at him, smile fading and that worried look returning to his eyes. The boy glanced over his shoulder, but Ranpo couldn’t think much on it, because the door the infirmary opened and he couldn’t help but tense and watch as Tecchou crept out of the room, eyes falling towards Ranpo for just a second before he avoided making eye contact, and instead approached Kenji.

At least the man could tell Ranpo didn’t like him being there.

“Might I join you?” Tecchou asked. “Jouno is hungry, even though he says he’s not.”

“Of course! A good meal will help Jouno-san recover faster! That’s what my family back home would always say at least!” Kenji beamed up at the Hunting Dog, and took Tecchou’s hand before dragging him from the room, chatter that Ranpo didn’t bother trying to listen to falling from Kenji’s mouth.

But while he didn’t listen, he did watch, because he was always watching.

He needed to make sure that Kenji came back after all.

“You aren’t eating.” Ranpo sighed as Yosano dragged a chair over and sat next to him, joining him as he watched over the rest of the office as they took one giant lunch break together, something that’d been Kyouka’s idea to help everyone after all that they’d been through together. It was a way for them all to feel reassured that everyone was fine—or close to fine—without feeling pushy and overbearing. And so far, Ranpo had gotten out of it each and every time by using his snacks as an excuse. He was still in the room, so it wasn’t like he wasn’t participating, he just wasn’t as hungry as the rest of them to eat a proper meal.

So it wasn’t surprising that Yosano approached him; after a decade of knowing each other, she was more than capable of picking up when something was wrong, even if Ranpo himself wasn’t aware of it yet. He did think it unnecessary that she would come and talk to him when he could name at least three other people that she should be checking in on instead, yet when he looked over to tell her as such, the words died before they even formed. A huff escaped him as he shoved another mouthful of chips into his mouth. “I am eating.”

“Snacks don’t count, Ranpo.” Yosano sighed, turning in her seat so that she could rest one arm on his desk and rest her head against her hand. “I wasn’t going to harass you because we’re all recovering still from everything that happened, but everyone’s starting to get concerned.”

Ranpo scoffed. “They should worry about themselves instead. I’m fine.”

“Then you won’t mind me asking how much sleep you’ve gotten in the past week, will you?”

The glare he gave his friend was one that would’ve had most people flinch away and avoid him, but all Yosano did was raise her brows, and lean a little heavier against the desk. Well if she wanted to play it that way… Ranpo pushed away from his desk and stood. Without saying anything he walked over to where Kunikida was eating his lunch and talking quietly with Dazai. He almost stopped then, because Dazai was just as nosy as Yosano was, and would know that what Ranpo was about to do was simply him trying to avoid being questioned.

Deal with Dazai’s theories, or Yosano’s harassment? Ranpo asked himself, slowing in his walk only a little before he came to a conclusion and continued forward. “Kunikida-kun! Got any cases for me?”

“What? Ranpo-san, you didn’t want to take the case earlier—”

“Oh, look! This one sounds interesting!” Ranpo swiped a random case off the desk, a murder if the brief look was anything to go by, and headed towards the door, waving the file at his coworkers who really needed to stop staring at him mid-chew. It was both gross and made him very uncomfortable, because really? Was it really that surprising for him to change his mind and take a case? He did actually do work from time to time. “Bye bye! Don’t touch my snacks while I’m gone!”

“Ranpo-san, wait! You need an escort—” Kunikida began to say before he frantically packed away his lunch and rushed to his feet, tripping a little as he hurried over. “—I’ll come with you!”

Ranpo glowered, but allowed Kunikida to fall into step beside him. He would rather have gone alone to the crime scene—it had happened within walking distance of the Agency so he would’ve been fine after a few wrong turns—but he knew that if he pushed for that, more questions would rise, and he’d taken on this case to avoid more questions. Mostly from his very nosy doctor friend, but she had said that everyone was starting to worry about him, so really, he wasn’t safe from questions no matter who he was with.

He still didn’t get why they were all so worried about him, because there was nothing to worry about. So what if he wasn’t eating or sleeping properly? No one else was either. If he had a dollar for the amount of times he’d heard his coworkers cry out during the night at the dorms from nightmares or flashbacks, he’d be as rich as Poe was, and that was saying something. And no, he wasn’t one of the ones crying out because he was fine. The worst thing he had to remember, was being shot at by the police, and knocked out by Fukuchi. And maybe just a little bit of stress from rescuing everyone. Meanwhile Yosano had almost been executed, Kunikida and Tanizaki technically had been killed; Dazai had almost died in his plan to stop Dostoyevsky, and Atsushi hadn’t stopped fighting once since the whole thing started. It made sense for them to be struggling.

And Ranpo was infallible, struggling wasn’t an option.

They were only a couple of blocks away from the crime scene, when Kunikida reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, bringing the two of them to a halt. Ranpo turned and faced the man, taking note of the wary expression that he always wore when he had to talk to someone about something difficult. Usually that look was reserved for Dazai or Atsushi, so Ranpo immediately grew cautious at seeing that look turned on him of all people. Kunikida took a breath. “Ranpo-san, are you okay?”

“Everyone keeps asking me that. It’s a stupid question.” Ranpo said.

“It’s not stupid for wanting to check in on you.” Kunikida said gently, dropping his grip to push up his glasses. “Since the President’s been gone, I’ve been trying to see how everyone is coping with what happened. You are the only one I haven’t been able to speak with yet.”

“Yeah, because I’m fine, obviously. Great detective’s don’t need talking to. Save your worry for those that need it, Kunikida-kun or you’ll get even more stress wrinkles.”

“With all due respect, Ranpo-san, I don’t believe you.” Kunikida’s words had Ranpo stiffening. He stared at Kunikida without saying anything, because what was he supposed to say to that? Kunikida may have been the one that was in charge, but he was still four years Ranpo’s junior, with his own problems, and Ranpo wasn’t going to add another—even though there wasn’t another—problem to his plate.

Ranpo turned on his heel and walked off. “Believe what you want then, Kunikida-kun, but like I said, you should be focusing on everyone else instead.”

Kunikida hurried after him. “Ranpo-san, you were under a considerable amount of stress after we were accused of being terrorists. You fell through a window, and worked yourself to the bone trying to rescue us when we failed to escape the Hunting Dogs—”

“How do you know that?” Before Ranpo even realized what he was doing, he spun around and interrupted Kunikida, heart pounding for a reason he couldn’t identify. That was a lie because he could—it was fear—but he couldn’t identify why he was suddenly afraid. That too, was a lie, because Ranpo’s mind never stopped deducing, so he could figure out that the reason why he was scared and on edge, was because Kunikida knew about his moment of weakness, and if he knew, then everyone else knew, and—

“Poe-san mentioned it to us after he wrote in the Page.” Kunikida said slowly, interrupting Ranpo’s thoughts, speaking to Ranpo as if he was some frightened child and not the world’s greatest detective. “It was when you were unconscious; he asked us to keep an eye on you because you hadn’t slept or eaten while the two of you were together, and that he was worried.”

“Poe-kun worries too much.” Ranpo’s voice was bitter as he stormed off, but deep down he felt warm inside to know that Poe still cared about him and his wellbeing, despite the harsh way that he’d treated the other man during the entire incident. A little bit of guilt wormed it’s way into his heart; it wasn’t like he’d meant to treat his rival badly; it was just that… in the heat of the moment, Ranpo was far more focused on results than feelings and when he got like that, he lashed out regardless of who it was in the way. I’ll talk to him soon.

Kunikida’s footsteps echoed just behind him. “I think Poe-san is right to be worried. You’re shutting us out, Ranpo-san—”

“Just drop it.” Ranpo looked over his shoulder and glared. “There is nothing to worry about because I am fine. So either forget it and come with me, or go back to the Agency.”

Kunikida was silent for a moment before he sighed. “Alright…”

The rest of the walk was made in silence, although Ranpo could tell that Kunikida wanted to press the issue, and from the way he could hear the younger texting behind him, he wasn’t the only one that did. It annoyed him a little to know that his co-workers were plotting behind his back instead of just talking to him directly, but then again, it wasn’t like he was talking to them when they tried to in the first place. He kicked a stone and watched as it rolled away, and found himself thinking that maybe if he’d been born a stone instead of a genius, that life would be a little easier.

“Ah, Ranpo-san! What are you doing here? We didn’t ask for you.” An officer greeted upon Ranpo’s approach, sharing a confused look with his colleagues. Which was fair, because Ranpo hadn’t been asked to help with this case, and honestly, he still didn’t quite know why he’d even decided to take it. The case was a simple mugging, and the culprit’s prints were all over the scene so it wasn’t like it would take the police long to find them.

Yet here he was.

Ranpo threw a smile onto his face and shrugged. “Who cares, I’m here now. So why not save yourselves some time and let me solve this easy case?”

“Easy?” One of the officers scoffed. “Just because you have an ability that makes things easy for you, doesn’t mean we have that same luxury.”

Why is it always the young ones that are so stupid. This case is easy if you just open your eyes. Ranpo rolled his eyes and strode over to look down at the corpse; a young man, with plenty of defensive wounds, and a fatal stab wound to the neck, the knife still embedded. “Even without my ability, this case is easy. It was a crime of opportunity. He was on a date with a woman, and she stabbed him to take his money. If you track his credit card, you’ll find her, since she’s no doubt spending as much as she can before she’s caught.”

The first officer sighed, and said something into the radio on his chest before turning his attention back to Ranpo. “I have no doubt that this is a stupid question, but how do you know—”

“That it’s a woman?” Ranpo interrupted, and without waiting for a response, powered on. “The defensive wounds on his arms are scratches from someone with very long nails. Now some men do have longer nails, but given the angle of the stab wound, which shows the attacker was at least a head shorter than the victim, it’s more likely that the attacker is a woman.”

“I see… thank you for the, well, unexpected assist, Ranpo-san.” The officer said. “We didn’t ask for your assistance, so we can’t pay you, I hope you understand.”

Ranpo waved away the officer’s words. “Whatever, just give us more challenging cases next time. Even Atsushi could’ve solved this.”

He turned around, ready to leave, when he heard the younger officer speak, no doubt not meaning for Ranpo to hear him, but of course, Ranpo heard every word. “Why does he always make it sound so easy? This case… the terrorism incident...”

What? Easy? Ranpo took a shaky breath, remembering all the sleepless nights he’d pulled just to gather all that evidence that the police hadn’t even looked at until he’d done that interview. Then he remembered the amount of stress he’d been under when he’d had to stop finding evidence and hijack an entire assassination plot in just a couple of days—again, with more sleepless nights, but that time he’d been joined by Poe who’d been a massive help. And not to mention, the entire airport where he’d had to plan on his feet, using his genius in ways he never had before, and still almost losing. Like hell had that been easy, it’d been one of the hardest times of Ranpo’s life, and here was this young officer trying to say that it was easy? No way.

“Easy?” Ranpo said under his breath, turning towards the officer that he’d overheard. He was given a confused look that made Ranpo’s already unstable emotions rise even more, and he walked over and grabbed the officer’s collar. “You think that case was easy?”

He could hear Kunikida saying something, could hear the other officers raising their voices, but there was blood roaring so loud in his ears, that Ranpo could only hear himself.

“Do you think it was easy to have to hide from the police and solve an entire terrorism plot? Do you think it was easy, to know that your friends would’ve died if you had been just a second too slow? And do you think it was easy, to trust the one person you thought you could trust, only to discover they were the reason you were being accused of terrorism in the first place? Do you think that’s easy? Do you?” Ranpo knew he was shouting, could feel his hand shaking, and could see the fear in the young officer’s face as he was screamed at. But Ranpo had to make sure that they understood it hadn’t been easy, that even a week after it all, despite things being considered normal because they were taking cases and working again, they weren’t.

Things weren’t normal, yet Ranpo was the only one who seemed to care about it.

A hand gently wrapped around his wrist, and pulled his hand away from the officer’s collar. Ranpo followed the hand to stare up into Kunikida’s eyes. “Ranpo-san, that’s enough.”

Ranpo took a breath before he nodded, not listening as Kunikida spoke, no doubt apologizing for him, before he felt himself being dragged back the way they’d come. Neither of them said anything, not that there was anything for them to say, really. All Ranpo knew was that he’d fucked up, allowed his emotions to get the better of him when he should’ve kept calm. Of course the police thought his job was easy, they all thought he had an ability to solve crimes in an instant, and while, yes, that was what he did, it wasn’t an ability that did it. It was just him.

It was always just him now that he thought about it. Every time the Agency ran into a case they couldn’t figure out fast, they always turned to him for the answers. And sure, sometimes it was necessary, especially when there was a time limit, but there were plenty of times where Dazai would’ve been enough, or Kunikida, or literally anyone else but Ranpo. He knew it was because he was the oldest, the most experienced—the pillar, the one everyone relied on—but he really wished that the others would at least try.

He was getting tired.

Tired of being the pillar.

“Ranpo-san—”

“No.” Ranpo said, pushing past Kunikida as the man tried to block him from entering the main office, and making his way to his desk. He didn’t get very far before the other grabbed his wrist and stopped him, levelling Ranpo with a look that spoke of an incoming lecture, a lecture that he very much did not want to hear, not now, not when he was still wound up. Yet Kunikida wouldn’t let go when he tried to pull his arm free, and he could see the rest of the Agency at their desks, watching, waiting, just like they’d probably been planning. Behind his back like he’d noticed them doing.

Suddenly Ranpo felt like a cornered animal, baring its teeth at its hunters. He wanted to leave, and leave now.

“Listen to me, Ranpo-san!” Kunikida said, loud, but not shouting, because he’d been with the Agency long enough to know that yelling at Ranpo did nothing but make Ranpo avoid work even more. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, because you aren’t the type to talk about your feelings, but you need to. This can’t go on!”

“I’m fine, Kunikida!” Ranpo snapped, finally tugging his arm free.

“No, you’re not.” Yosano piped up from where she was leaning against one of the desks. “You haven’t been fine in ages, but instead of asking for help like everyone else did when they struggled, you shut us out and let it fester.”

“I. Am. Fine.” He wrapped his arms around himself, lowering his head to glare at the floor. He repeated the words, over and over, until they no longer felt like words. But just like how everyone in the room clearly didn’t believe in them, neither did he.

He wasn’t fine.

A hand was placed on his shoulder, and he jerked away, lifting his head to see Yosano had come closer, no doubt trying to comfort him as she usually did when he was upset by something. But this time the touch burned, and it continued to burn as he stepped back, trying to get some space in a room that was filled with the desire to crack him open and see his innermost thoughts. It felt like he was suffocating.

Yosano sighed, but didn’t try to get closer. “Talk to us, Ranpo. Tell us what’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong?” A laugh bubbled out of him, uncontrolled. He wanted to shove it back where it came from, but another escaped instead. “What’s wrong isn’t me, it’s all of you.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s because of all of you that nothing is right again!” It wasn’t true, because it was the fault of Fukuchi and the Page, but logic had abandoned Ranpo completely the moment his emotions had decided to take charge. “If you’d just listened to me in the beginning, we never would’ve been accused of terrorism, we never would’ve gone through what we did, and we would’ve been fine. But you were all too stupid to listen to me, so I had to step up, like always to save us—”

His eyes were starting to burn, tears forming and threatening to fall, but he kept going, the words spilling out like a broken dam. Everything he’d been thinking about since they’d returned to work, escaping from his mouth like water from a broken tap. Hah, get it? Because he was nothing more than a broken tap right now. “—because all of you are so damn incompetent that you can’t see a trap right underneath your noses—”

“Hey, that’s not—”

“—it’s the truth!” Ranpo shouted, glaring over at Tanizaki as the boy tried to interrupt him. “I’m the reason this entire place exists in the first place! I’m the genius detective that can solve cases in less than a minute, surrounded by people who’d rather come to him for all the answers instead of pulling their brains out of their asses and using them! And I’m tired of it! I’m tired of being the pillar of this place, tired of being the one you all rely on when things go south! Because it’s everything! Atsushi, the Guild, Dostoyevsky, and now Fukuchi, all of them were solved by me! Sure, you all did the fighting, but it was my plan that saved us! Mine! And I don’t want to do it anymore!”

“What do you—”

“Don’t, Kunikida-san.” Someone said, and Ranpo heard footsteps approach as he stood there, tears running down his face, body trembling. Gentle hands grabbed at his own, and Ranpo opened his eyes to see Atsushi watching him with an equally gentle look. The boy’s own hands squeezed Ranpo’s own, and his thumbs rubbed the back of them in a soothing manner. The motion helped to calm Ranpo a little, but not by much; he was still trembling. “We hear you, Ranpo-san, we do. Can you take a breath for me? Please?”

Ranpo nodded, and took a single shaky breath, only to let out a sob at the end. And then another, and another, as he broke completely. He felt himself going down as his knees gave out, but slowly, as Atsushi went down with him, and the boy didn’t even hesitate to draw his senior into his arms and hold him close. It took Ranpo a moment, but once he realized that Atsushi wasn’t going to press him and just hold him, he allowed himself to fall apart, burying his face against Atsushi’s shoulder as he cried. He could feel a hand cupping the back of his head, and another rubbing at his back, but ultimately, what he focused on the most was Atsushi’s words in his ear.

“We hear you, Ranpo-san.”

It was about damn time they did.

When Ranpo woke, he found himself in a familiar room in a familiar bed, with a warm weight against his back and another against his stomach, accompanied by the sound of fingers flying across a keyboard and no recollection of how he got there. But it didn’t take long for him to figure it out. Oh… that’s what happened. He pulled a hand from underneath the covers and stroked the fur of the raccoon curled up against him. Karl made a quiet noise of surprise before stretching out and going back to sleep. And for just a moment, the sound of typing disappeared, yet nothing was said and the sound soon returned.

Ranpo stayed silent for another twenty minutes, just running his fingers through the soft fur beneath his hand, and listening to Poe as he wrote on his laptop beside him, the sound of the keys helping to him awake and present. Finally, he sighed, and broke the quiet. “They called you?”

Silence fell upon the room again. “They did.” It was hard to tell just what Poe was thinking from those two words, but Ranpo took a chance on his rival not being angry at him. He hadn’t seen Poe since they’d worked together to rescue the Agency after all, and well… Ranpo didn’t usually regret many things, but what he said to Poe that day, that was something he regretted.

He wouldn’t have been upset if Poe had been mad at him.

“Did they tell you what happened?”

Ranpo listened as Poe sighed, and rolled over as Poe laid down so they were face to face with each other. There was nothing but concern and worry on the author’s face, along with hesitation as he clearly wanted to hold Ranpo close, but was holding himself back from doing so. It hurt, because Poe had never held himself back around Ranpo, but Ranpo also appreciated it. He wasn’t too sure if he’d be able to handle being hugged right now. “Yosano-sensei called me, said it was an emergency, so I went down. You were unconscious, and they told me you had a breakdown.” Poe hesitated before he gained a determined look and continued. “And they said that until further notice, you weren’t allowed back at work. I brought you here afterwards.”

“To your bed? That’s moving a little fast isn’t it?” Ranpo couldn’t help but make the joke, as inappropriate as it was. But then again, it was Poe who was probably the one person that wouldn’t judge him for using humour in a situation that was very much not funny. They were both broken people after all.

And sure enough, although he didn’t laugh, Poe’s mouth twitched upwards. “I was going to put you on the couch, but I thought that might be a little unkind of me so I chose the bed. But I didn’t want you thinking I was trying to make a move on you though if you happened to wake up during the night, so I slept on the couch.”

Ranpo hummed. “It’s your bed, I don’t mind if you sleep in it.” He sighed and shuffled a little closer until his head was resting against Poe’s chest. Without a word, an arm—just one arm—was draped over his side and he was pulled a little closer. “How long did I sleep?”

“Just over a day. I was about to order food actually if you felt up to eating something.”

“Not hungry.” Food was the last thing on Ranpo’s mind, but he blamed that on the fact that he was still coming out of a post-breakdown nap. He wanted to call it something else, but he couldn’t since a breakdown was what it had been, and while he should feel embarrassed about breaking down into his tears and screaming at his co-workers—because, yes, he did remember everything he said, it was a skill and a fault of his—he didn’t. He didn’t feel anything other than a very strong desire to go back to sleep.

Poe hummed and sat up to grab his phone. “I’ll order something simple that we can reheat tomorrow then. Yosano-sensei mentioned you hadn’t been eating properly, so apparently I’m supposed to make sure you eat at least one meal a day.”

“What part of not hungry, did you not understand?”

“Oh, I understood it perfectly, Ranpo-kun, but I’m simply not taking no for an answer.” Poe said as he tapped away, a quiet ding indicating that food that Ranpo very much did not feel like eating, was on the way. “It’ll be an hour, so you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

Ranpo didn’t say anything, he simply rolled over and curled up around Karl again before closing his eyes and allowing sleep to come for him. At least if he was sleeping, he didn’t have to deal with Poe’s somewhat overbearing nature; it made sense why the author had been called to take care of him then, because Poe had once spent six years obsessing over the perfect novel for him, and even after failing, still kept trying.

And while the rest of the Agency would simply give in to Ranpo’s whims the moment he shut them out, Poe would not, because he was just as stubborn as Ranpo was, if not more.

For the next three days, Ranpo spent his time migrating from Poe’s bed to Poe’s couch, with the occasional detour to the kitchen or the bathroom, but mostly, he moved between the two pieces of furniture. If he’d had it his way, he would’ve just stayed in the bed the entire time and slept, but apparently Poe had decided to take his role as caregiver seriously, and refused to let Ranpo mope about for too long. Which of course, gave way to arguments as Ranpo’s already frayed buttons were pushed even more, and really, he had to give credit to Poe not just giving up and throwing him back to the Yosano and everyone else at the Agency, because some of the things he said to his rival… well they weren’t very kind.

Usually they were just light-hearted jabs, the kind that he and Poe usually exchanged in a joking manner with each other because they never meant them, but this time Ranpo spat insults and words of cruelty, and despite them, Poe continued to just smile and let Ranpo curse him out. But the third day—the current day—had been the worst, because Ranpo hadn’t slept well at all, tossing, and turning most of the night, so when Poe had dragged him out of bed and forced him into the bathroom to have a shower, Ranpo hadn’t hesitated to lash out and call Poe pathetic and desperate for trying to help a man that could never give him what he was after. He also said a lot worse than just that.

And it was the first time that Poe had actually looked hurt by his words, and Ranpo had felt an immense amount of guilt afterwards.

“I’m sorry.” Ranpo said as sat on the floor of the shower, scrubbing three days of grime out of his hair.. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“You did.” Poe responded from where he sat on the floor, leaning against the wall as he kept Ranpo company, fingers tapping on his knees. “Usually you are kind, but you haven’t been kind in a while, Ranpo-kun, and that’s okay. I know you are hurting—”

“No, it’s not.” Ranpo interrupted. “You always drop everything the moment I ask, and yet, I can’t even take the time to treat you kindly.” His eyes burned, but not from the shampoo, and he curled up underneath the spray of the water. “The one person who I would consider an equal to me, and I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate you and how much you helped me.”

Poe hummed. “You don’t need to. I’m your rival, remember? So I know you care, and that you regret what you said, even without you telling me..”

“I’m still sorry.” Ranpo sobbed. “You deserve so much better than me.”

There was another hum, and through his tears, Ranpo felt arms wrap around him, felt himself drawn into an embrace, warm lips against his brow. “Maybe I do, Ranpo-kun, but it is you that I have fallen for, so I will take your cruelty along with your kindness, and if you are ever ready, I will take your love as well.”

“Here. Since food’s not really agreeing with you right now, I thought this might go down better.” Ranpo looked up, pulled out of the memory by Poe’s looming figure that was holding out some kind of drink to him. He looked at it sceptically. Poe chuckled. “It’s a smoothie. Strawberry and banana which I was told you do like, so if it’s bad, blame Yosano-sensei, not me.”

Ranpo took the drink and took a cautious sip, and waited until he was sure it would be okay, before he sipped on it some more. The last thing he wanted was to throw up again because his stomach didn’t agree with what it was being given. “You spoke to Yosano?”

“Kunikida-san, actually. Yosano just happened to be nearby when I asked what was best to give you when you were unwell. The Agency sends their well wishes as well, said they hoped you would feel better soon and that they were missing you.” Poe said, sitting down beside Ranpo’s feet, looking a little out of place without his laptop or a book, hands fidgeting with his pants, and then each other. “Do you want to talk…?”

“No.” Ranpo shoved his feet underneath Poe’s thigh, and scowled into his drink. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Poe hummed and patted Ranpo’s leg a couple of times; a reassurance. “That’s fine. Just know you can talk to me when you are ready to. If you want to, of course.”

And that was what Ranpo appreciated about Poe the most; he knew when and when not to push.

Over the next week, things got a little easier for Ranpo. Apparently being away from work was just what he’d needed, because since he’d been away—aside from those first rocky days—he’d slept and eaten better than he had in a while. He did miss solving cases though, and one day, when Poe had been out, he’d tried to call the Agency, if only to see if they had any cases they needed his help on, because surely, he could help with just one? But no, his call had been answered by Atsushi, who’d been more than happy to hear from him, but had refused to give in to his demands for something to do. Instead, the boy had told him to watch this show that he’d been introduced to before hanging up.

Rude.

But was he watching the show? Yes. And was he enjoying said show? Also, yes.

Most of the time, he was left to his own devices, left to stretch out on the couch with Karl in his lap, and enough blankets to build a small mountain. Sometimes he was joined by Poe, who would either sit behind him and allow himself to be used by a pillow, or he’d sit at the other end of the couch and stretch out as well, laptop resting against his knees as he worked on his newest story. They didn’t really speak to each other much, other than how are you’s and what are you doing’s. Not that Ranpo minded, because Poe’s presence was more than enough, and he appreciated the space that the other was giving him.

There was no pressure at all, on this couch in Poe’s house, and that was just what Ranpo needed.

He’d had more than enough pressure to last the rest of his life.

Once another week had passed—marking two entire weeks he’d been off of work now—Ranpo had focused on preparing himself for a visit, because the Agency couldn’t force him off of work forever, and he knew that the only way he’d be going back to work, was once he actually opened up and talked about what had happened. Which Ranpo wasn’t exactly keen on. But… maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to do. To talk, he meant.

So, when the doorbell rang, Ranpo wasn’t surprised, and sat up from where he’d been laying curled underneath the blankets, wearing one of Poe’s oversized hoodies whilst watching a movie. He listened as Poe answered the door and greeted the person, and prepared himself to be met with Kunikida or Yosano, maybe even Dazai—although he was pretty sure that Dazai would rather die than have a heart to heart with Ranpo of all people.

But then Fukuzawa appeared in the doorway and Ranpo froze.

Really, he shouldn’t have been surprised, because Fukuzawa cared about everyone in the Agency, and while he hadn’t witnessed Ranpo’s breakdown, he no doubt would’ve been told about it upon his return from Tokyo. Or maybe he’d even been told the day after and cut his trip there short, since when Fukuzawa had left, he’d told them all he didn’t know how long he would be gone for. Regardless, Fukuzawa was standing in front of him, watching him with that look that told Ranpo he was analysing the situation and trying to figure out the best approach.

It made Ranpo nervous.

“May I sit?” Fukuzawa asked, gesturing towards the couch.

Ranpo nodded, swallowing as his words got stuck in his throat, and tucked himself into a ball so that Fukuzawa had room to sit down on the couch with him.

Fukuzawa sat, and turned so that he was facing Ranpo. His arms were hidden in his sleeves like they usually were, and his usually stoic face looked almost… soft. It was a look that Ranpo hadn’t seen since the Agency grew so large, and it made Ranpo want to spill everything, just like he used to do when he was fourteen and lost in a world he didn’t understand. Fukuzawa remained silent for a moment longer before he spoke. “How are you?”

“Better.” Ranpo rested his head on his knees. “I’ve done nothing but eat and sleep since I’ve been here.” He paused for a moment and admitted quietly. “Poe-kun’s been good to me.”

“That’s good.” Fukuzawa gave a small smile that faded just as fast as it appeared. “What happened?”

Ranpo frowned. “You weren’t told?”

“Kunikida contacted me and said that you’d become unwell suddenly, and that you were taking a leave of absence to recover. It wasn’t until I received a message from Poe-san yesterday that I realised I was missing something. So I politely cut my trip short and came here to see how you were doing and find out what had happened.”

“What did Poe-kun tell you?” Ranpo asked, hesitating because while he could deduce most things, deducing his rival’s texts was an impossible feat; he was just unpredictable in that sense. So he was a little worried as to what the author had told Fukuzawa.

Fukuzawa pulled out his own phone, no doubt finding the messages to recall them. “He said he was sorry to disturb my work, but that he wanted to give me an update on your condition. He mentioned that you’d finally eaten a proper meal, which was when I realized that something was off.”

“Just because he mentioned food?”

Ranpo found himself being thrown a look of disbelief. “Ranpo, I’ve known you for almost thirteen years now. When you stop eating, I know it’s something serious.” Fukuzawa paused and closed his eyes for a moment, taking a breath before he opened them again. “I know things have been hard recently, and that you might find it hard to open up to Kunikida and the others about what happened and what you went through, so if you want, you can talk to me.”

“You’re still grieving.” Ranpo tried to argue. Tried being the key word, because Fukuzawa just raised an eyebrow at him.

“I can still grieve and take care of my employees.” Fukuzawa said, taking a moment to close his eyes before he opened them again. “I have all the time in the world to grieve over Genichiro, but I only have a limited amount of time before I find myself grieving you as well, Ranpo. And that is something I don’t wish to do.”

Carefully, Ranpo observed Fukuzawa and looked at the bags under his eyes that came from long meetings with the government and the grief of losing his childhood friend, the way he still held himself tall despite the exhaustion that weighed him down, and the way that despite all that, he still managed to look concerned for Ranpo. It made Ranpo want to curl up and cry, but he’d already done that plenty, so he squeezed his eyes shut and just breathed. “I’m just tired.”

“Of what?”

“Of being the pillar.” He didn’t say more than that, because he didn’t need to. Fukuzawa had known him long enough to know exactly what he meant, to know the weight of the words as he said them, because it was no secret that despite his childish nature, that Ranpo did enjoy his job. Sure, the case had to be interesting enough for him, or his co-workers sometimes had to beg him to take on cases that they could do themselves if they really tried, but he did enjoy solving cases. So for him to say that he was tired of it… well it was no wonder the Agency had panicked when he’d broken down.

But Fukuzawa was not like the others, he could read between the lines, and use the prior knowledge he had to formulate the correct response. It was just something that Fukuzawa had gotten good at over the years of deciphering Ranpo’s emotional state. “Do you wish to leave the Agency for a while?”

“Isn’t that what I’m already doing?”

Fukuzawa shook his head. “Right now, you are on a leave of absence. What I mean is that—”

“Boring.” Ranpo interrupted, pointing a finger in Fukuzawa’s direction. “You shouldn’t say stupid things, Fukuzawa-san, or people will start to think you’re losing it. I don’t want to leave the Agency. I’ll just stay on this leave of absence thing for a while and come back to work once I’m better.”

“If that’s the case, then you’ll need medical clearance to come back to work.”

What? Ranpo blinked, and then said it aloud. “What?”

“Medical clearance. And no, before you ask, Yosano cannot give you clearance.”

Ranpo knew immediately what Fukuzawa was getting at and huffed his annoyance. “You want me to go to therapy.”

“I do.” Fukuzawa nodded. “It’ll help.”

“I don’t know any therapists.”

“I think you’ll find that if you ask Poe-san, he’ll be able to help you out in that regard.”

Ranpo glared even though he knew it would do nothing but make Fukuzawa amused, and sure enough, the man raised a hand to hide his smile. “Can I at least do some work? I don’t want to spend my days watching soap operas.”

Fukuzawa’s smile grew just a little at his words. “I’ll ask the police to send you some cold cases. But you’ll have to wait until you return to work before you can work on active cases.”

“Ugh, fine.” Ranpo threw himself against the back of the couch, and stared at the ceiling for a moment. He could make do with some cold cases for now; it’d been a while since he’d worked on them, and it could be a fun bonding activity for him and Poe to take part in. Speaking of Poe… “Poe-kun’s making some American dish for dinner. You can stay if you’d like.”

The look Fukuzawa gave him was one of fondness, and the man nodded. “That would be nice. Will you talk to me if I do?”

“Maybe, if you don’t get pushy about it.”

“I think I can do that.”

[starlightshadowsworld]

The Wary Weretiger

Because Atsushi doesn't join the Agency, he doesn't live in the Agency dorms.

He is homeless.

And has been for a lot longer than he was in canon (2 weeks). But Atsushi could not tell you how long it's been.

Atsushi has tried to stay at homeless shelters.

But he learned very quickly they will kick him out once they find out he's gifted.

Even shelters that specifically take in gifted want nothing to do with Atsushi.

Because unlike someone like Kunikida, Atsushi's ability can't be "switched off."

Sure he has to consciously activate it to transform but his senses, his ability to negate wounds are always present.

And that apparently makes people uncomfortable, and that's before they find out he can transform into a giant tiger.

Add that to the list of reasons Atsushi doesn't trust anyone.

Atsushi stays in any place he can find. Abandoned houses, park benches, sometimes he'll just climb up a tree and sleep up there.

It's not ideal, especially when it's cold out. But if you ask Atsushi he'll still say it's lifetimes better than staying at the Orphanage.

[queer-charming]

Hey! I decided to post some of the unfinished works I have in my drafts, feel free to do whatever you want with it! This was going to be a Chuuya x Reader that I’ll probably never finish, so here y’a go! Go wild!

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Part of you felt guilty, felt like you were being dishonest to your friends, you guessed technically you were, but how were you supposed to explain to the ADA that you regularly met with one of the top executives of the Port Mafia after the two of you had struck up an unlikely friendship? Like what? Were you just supposed to go up to Dazai and say “by the way, remember your former partner? You know, who’s a top member of the most dangerous crime organization in Japan? Yeah I’ve been having lunch with him every other week for the past 6 months without telling you.” You we’re sure that was not going to end well.

However, the fact that you and Chuuya had struck up such an unlikely friendship wasn’t the only secret you were keeping. You were keeping a secret from Chuuya as well, and that was the secret that over the past 6 months, he’d managed to make you fall irrevocably undeniably in love with him. However, being friends with him? Meeting with him every other week at a different restaurant to catch up? That was one thing. Dating him? Sleeping with him behind the ADAs back? That was a completely different thing. That would put real guilt in you. You weren’t sure that was a secret you’d be able to keep.

You let that thought simmer in your mind as you waited yo Chuuya to arrive, because no matter how guilty you felt, no matter how bad you felt about technically lying to your friends, nothing would ever be enough to keep you away from your favorite firey redhead. The restaurant you two had chosen was an expensive one, one that the members of the ADA would be unlikely to visit and one that Chuuya was confident very few members of the Port Mafia frequented. It was large, on the top floor of a 16 story office building. The food was gourmet and the wine was of only the highest of vintage. The wall to your left was made up entirely of windows, floor to ceiling, giving you a beautiful view over Yokohama and a breathtaking view of the ocean.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” You were pulled from your thoughts by the voice to your right, turning to see Chuuya, his standard perfectly pressed hat abandoned at the front door alongside his long jacket, giving you an uninterrupted view of his lean figure. You felt the smile naturally find it’s way onto your lips. You remembered the first moment you met Chuuya, months ago. It had been after a particularly prickly meeting with the ADA and the Port Mafia. Kunikida had spent nearly the entire time nearly coming to blows with a few of the members, Akutagawa spent the entire time antagonizing Atsushi and Chuuya and Dazai couldn’t keep their mouths shut to save the world. The only people there seemingly capable of holding an actual conversation had been you, Fukuzawa, Mori and Kouyou, while also somehow managing to prevent a slaughter. It was only after the meeting had ended that you'd managed to share a few words with Chuuya, he may have been an executive with an entirely dangerous and illegal crime rink but he still wanted to meet the ADA's new girl. Of course, you'd been thrown off a bit by the way he'd first addressed you.

"So what kind of brain damage did you suffer to agree to work with Dazai?" He'd asked. For a few seconds you had no idea how to respond, you kind of just stared at him. After a moment your brain finally caught up.

"Thrown from a horse when I was 12." You quipped back, sufficiently pleased with the look of surprise and mild confusion on the mafioso's face.

"Really?" He asked. You let his question hang for a minute before tossing him a grin.

"No." Apparently he'd liked how you responded to him, becuase after that he'd become much more friendly. After that, you'd ran into Chuuya again at a coffee shop you frequented, and of course, being the curious and adventurous person you were, you walked up to him. You were a little surprised when he'd recognized you, although you definitely were not upset by it. What was originally supposed to be a quick 15 minute coffee stop turned into a 3 hour long "Coffee date" you guessed you could call it. That was when you're biweekly meetings with Chuuya started, and the two of you had become pretty close, of course it wasn't the "I'll tell you everything about myself" kind of close, but it was nice.

"Run into some traffic?" You asked as Chuuya took his place across from you, almost immediately ordering his favorite wine.

"There were some subordinate's who needed some..." Chuuya seemed to search for the words. "Straightening out." He finally settled on.

You and Chuuya rarely spoke about work when you met up, getting together was supposed to be a time when both of you could forget where you worked, and the fact that you two were on opposite sides.

[justice-is-a-weapon]

In vino veritas [Dazai x gn reader]

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Chapter 9 / ?

previous | next

TW: like one suicide joke from Dazai

Me and Dazai began to grow closer throughout the following weeks. We began to meet or text almost every day, even if it was just for an hour or two. I felt truly happy in Japan. Maybe this would be the place I finally began to settle, having been a wanderer for such a long time.

As we walked the streets of Yokohama I began to lose myself in his words. He had completely bewitched me, my body and soul. He was far too interesting for his own good. I knew that I should keep my distance. That was what my whole life had been about after all. But he? He made it way too difficult for me to do so. I had begun to accept that I had grown fond of him by now. I had grown closer to Dazai and I thought he probably did too, never letting me fully see inside his mind but having me understand his certain quirks. He made an effort to have me understand him just a little bit yet not too much. So I felt like he wanted to let me in, have me closer. Especially now that our shoulders were touching, cramped under my black umbrella. It was raining cats and dogs, yet we had decided to go for our nightly stroll around the town.

We reached an alcove for shelter at some point.

“Ah fuck me. My bandages are all wet.”

I laughed at that.

“I think I might have some toilet paper left at home. You could use that. Wouldn’t look any different.”

He gave me a sour but playful look. Then he began to smirk.

Oh? OH.

Then he pushed me. Right into the rain. I had tried to keep myself dry with the umbrella the whole way here but now my hair clung to my face, wet just like my clothes. I shook my head in disappointment.

“You’re a manchild Dazai.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Nah… I’m just being fair and you are just being boring.”

I took a step forward, now standing directly in front of him but still in the rain. I looked him directly in the eyes.

“Boring?”

He leaned forward, then whispered.

“Yes.”

At that I quickly grabbed him by the hand and pulled. He began to stumble forward. Into the rain with me. His already dark brown hair was becoming even darker with the rain pouring onto it and lost part of its previous fluffyness. He had to move it out of his face with his hands.

“You son of a-“

He looked at me.

“Oh I’m gonna get you good for that!”

Dazai charged at me and I began to run. The few passerbys looked rather confused watching us goofing around and chasing each other through the rain.

Panting, we stopped at some point. The rain had slowly begun to clear up, now only being reduced to a drizzle. It had become quite late.

Dazai asked for the time. After I told him he began to speak.

“I’ve got to go now I’m afraid. Can’t have Kunikida ripping my head off. I want to do that myself. Maybe I could use-“

“Dazai. Not now.”

“Alright, alright… But yeah I have to go. Another case, y’know? Apparently a bigger thing. Something mafia related. So I won’t be getting any sleep today I guess.”

“Ah yes, the sleepless nights of Detective Dazai.”

He had to smirk at that.

“You’re the only one who calls me that.”

"Oh, am I?"

“Yes and I’m not quite sure if I like that.”

I gave a small huff.

“So what shall I call you? What title does our dear Dazai long for?”

“Ideally, I would wish to call myself ‘a good man’ someday.”

I looked at his face. There was a hint of sincerity in his eyes. Although he tried to hide it behind a sly smirk. I had a feeling being “a good man” held much more meaning to him than he’d like the world to know. He tried to have me forget this previous sentence by continuing.

“But Dazai Osamu works as well I guess.”

“Your first name is Osamu?”

“Yeah yeah, quite basic I know.”

“Well I’m German so not really basic to me. If you were you’d be named Paul. Or Jonas. Or ew you could be a Jakob.” I shuddered at the thought “Imagine your name would be Jakob.”

This made Dazai laugh. I loved Dazai’s laugh. At least when it was a sincere one. It made me believe I was doing something right for once. So now it had kind of become my personal mission to hear and make him cackle as often as possible.

We were interrupted by his phone making a noise, telling him it was time to go. He looked at me again. There was something in his eyes that I couldn’t quite place. But I was content with this. I was happy and looking at him, he was too. That was all that mattered to me.

Dazai then took a glance to the side before speaking.

“I guess it’s time for me to leave?”

It came out as more of a question.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“I don’t want to go if I’m being honest.”

“I know. But they’ll be needing you.”

I gave a sigh feeling a soft smile forming on my lips.

“And you can bet that I’ll be waiting for you and greet you with open arms once you come back.”

“Would I also be greeted with open arms now?”

Yes. You would. I got what he was probably hinting at. So I opened my arms. I didn’t know when I last hugged someone before but getting to hug Dazai felt great. Yes, he may have been still wet from the rain and we were both a bit awkward at first, not knowing where to place our hands and generally the hug didn’t last long at all, but it felt comforting. Dazai smiled afterwards.

“Bye Ophelia.”

“See you around Dazai.”

With that he turned around and left. I decided to shout after him one last time.

“Don’t catch a cold and be careful! You hear me?”

A shout from him came back.

“Yep! Will do!”

I got home with a smile on my face that day.

What I did not know however:

I would end up not seeing Dazai for two and a half months after that.

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[Hello hello! We’re going the angsty route from now on. At least for a little bit. Enjoy this last bit of fluff you got this chapter. I have the next chapter written out already so it won’t take that long. I’ll probably upload it in a week. Also please tell me you got that dark era reference. Fun fact: while searching for the ao3 chapter title “Don’t Leave Me Now” by Supertramp was playing (I was looking through some of my old vinyls at the time) and I thought “Yep that’s it. That’s the title.”]