#bsd ability user

[ravencincaide]

When the dead talk

Summary:  Sometimes you wonder whether Dazai seeks you out because of your ability or if there is an obsessive element to your encounters. Either way as long as he keeps his part of the deal, you’ll make the dead talk for him. OR the real reason Dazai is always dirt poor. 

Pairing: Necromancer!reader x  Dazai

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 19: Teeth Brushing 

Warnings: This is a somewhat morbid and contains: Necromancy, toxic-unhealthy relationship, hint at suicide (lets face it, it’s BSD and Dazai!), hint at Odasaku, cursing,  

Polish polish polish bones, grimy bones, dirty bones 

Polish polish human bones, my fair lady

You ran the slim blush over each and every tooth; first the top ones. You paid  extra attention to the canines. Then down the jawline and up to the second row of teeth. There you scrubbed a little harder to brush away the dirt that got in between the crevasse. You changed brushes several times; first the normal toothbrush, then onto a different thin one and then into an even thinner one. Each one able to get more easily into the crooks and gaps. 

Once satisfied you went back to brushing the jawline, focused on removing any of the dirt gathered there before you  flipped the skull over. You did a similar meticulous job of cleaning the underside. Being thorough to remove soil and all the other nastiness from the precious bone. Under your breath, you were humming the tune of “London bridge is falling down”, though you replaced the words of the familiar nursery rhyme with more bone related appealing lyrics. That was until you heard the metal door far above open, while its hinges squealed loudly in protest. The sound made you lose yourself in the made-up lyrics; a groan of annoyance making it past your lips. 

“ Was that really necessary?” you whined as the worn out dress shoes made an irregular tip-tapping sound against the concrete floors. 

“ Still working donna?” was the reply you got instead. The voice was neither warm nor icy, something lukewarm. It grew closer, the steps tipp tapping away until they came up right behind you. A bony bandage-clad hand placed a paper bag with a take away container and some other items beside you. The hand lingered there for a moment longer, waiting until you fully acknowledged the generous gift he brought you. When you didn’t, the hand snapped upwards, grabbed your face and twisted it to the side. 

Face to face with the young devil. 

 “ I told you to be done by the time I arrived.” Dazai’s expression was displeased, raw chewed lips turned downwards into a frown. The hand on your chin tightened; no doubt tomorrow you would wake up with finger-shaped bruises on your skin. 

“ You pay peanuts, you get monkeys” you replied back, meeting his hollow gaze with your unafraid one. Still your hands slowly lowered the skull you worked on onto the table, the gentle clang of bone against metal seemed to snap him back into reality. He gave you another warning look before he shoved your face away from himself.  

You danced away; twirled to the opposite side of the otherwise tiny room and the metal sink placed there. Hands reached for the soap, scrubbed at the dirt and pieces of flesh before running your digits under ice cold water. You were not about to dig into much needed dinner with dirty hands- even you had standards.You held them there until you lost feeling; skin red- almost blue from the cold. Then you turned the water off with your elbow, while you wiped your hands onto a nearby paper towel, Then back you went towards Dazai and the paper bag he had gotten for you. 

“ Awwe Rice on Tea again?” your smile dropped as you opened the half-cold container. “ C’mon really? Even prisoners get more variety than this!” 

Dazai chuckled at your reply, a humorless sound at your choice of words, while his eyes watched your every move with hawk like dedication. Dazai tried to look unbothered, tried to hide the itch in his hand and the frustration which brewed in the pit of his stomach.  “This is plenty in return for your services” he replied stiffly. 

You dug your chopsticks in, twirling the half soggy rice around the plastic bowl. Then brought a grain to your lips. Although tasty the food left you to craving a new blend; “ I bet Port Mafia’d give more” 

“ You’re not cut out for Port Mafia” Dazai growled, his one uncovered eye narrowed. Just daring you to continue this conversation. You knew he wouldn’t kill you- but that did not mean starvation and torture was off the table. “ You're still too weak; its safer here” 

I don’t share.

That was what he was actually saying. The underlying threat right there; care twisted into sadism with you balanced on a thin beam between. One wrong step and begging for mercy would be the least of your worries. Setting the food back down, your eyes shifted onto the rest of the bones beside the human skull you had spent the last few hours cleaning. Your fingers reached out towards the femur and you picked it up with interest “ Can I keep these?” 

“ No.” he answered in a heartbeat. “ Not these ones” 

You frowned and turned to face him. A pout on your lips “ Oh come on, pretty please. I already do so much for you and you get me so little in return” you moved closer, practically in his face.

“ I SAID no!” You tightened your grip on the bone, the brittle thing beginning to crack in your grasp. The sound made Dazai snapp, his hand moved faster than your mind could register. But you knew what he’d do; whenever he got emotional he was so much easier for you to read. 

“ Ahh ahh ahh marvelous, are you gonna shoot me? Let this ugly flesh rot away until my sceletton can join the others, to be feasted on by vermints and rats, or tossed outside as vulture food. Please hurry up, you’re getting me all so excited” you clasped your hands and held them cutely to the right side of your face, tilting your head to the side and giving him long flaps of eyelashes.  The sight might have looked cute- endearing even were it not for the bone covered in dirt and half rotten flesh clasped in between your hands. 

You were flirting with death; literary. 

“ Do that again and I’ll shoot you to pieces, inch by inch” Dazai hissed in warning, nudging the gun closer to your temple. You grinned in response, yet your grin dropped the second he whacked you with the weapon. 

“ Holy fucking shit- ouch!” you yelped as you took a step back, your back hitting the metal table, adding insult to injury. Your head clasped in your hands; part in actual pain and part in a feeble attempt to guilt a softer responsible- a gentle reaction out of him. 

Seeing right through your act, Dazai took a step closer, almost suffocating you with his murderous aura.  The look in his eyes told you, you were going to regret pushing and toying with him. “ How long until you’re done?” Dazai barked, not a sign of the usual softness he’d use whenever he wanted something out of you. 

You were unbothered by it; neither his loudness nor the gun in his hand scared you any longer. You could see that the rage was there to hide the more vulnerable emotion; longing, fear and desire. Human emotion not reserved for the demon protege. 

“ Hmmm about an hour” you answered without even flinching as he slammed his gun against the metal table behind you, right beside the remains, careful of them, less careful of your hand.

“ An hour? I told you to get this finished before I come!” 

“ You pay peanuts, you get monkeys” you repeated a second time, softer this time. You watched the infuriated emotion pass over his face, then saw it twist into something almost gentle. A caring seductive look that did not suit this terrible man. 

“ You disappoint me Bella,” his voice a silky purr, a heart-wrenching sigh; his body in your space again. Arms on either side of you, head bowed to rest on your shoulder. “ I thought you weren’t going to do that” he turned his head to the side, hot breath fanning your neck. 

You barely resisted a shiver, then felt your knees grow weak as his lips landed on your skin, right above your pulse. You could feel his smile as he pressed more open mouth kisses. Making your mind a jumbled mess, your body an involuntary respondent to his advances. 

God this man was a demon; a monster who played you like a flute. 

You gasped, your head thrown back as his teeth nipped at your skin. Your knees shook, growing weaker with every touch; “ ahh h-he is w-waiting in the other room.”

At your words Dazai let out a low hum, finally stopping his assault on your skin. When he pulled back, he wore a smile. The kind of sweet hopeful look that was not reserved for you. 

Never you. 

You felt his finger tap your nose, bringing your mind back to reality. “ Make sure you keep it up for longer this time, and you’ll be well rewarded” Dazai flashed you a smirk and then stepped away from you. There was a slight skip in his step, a humm that wasn’t there before as he moved towards the door on the opposite side of the room; a bottle of whiskey he swiped from the paperbag in one hand and two glasses in another.  

You heard the door open; Dazai’s sing-song voice calling out “Odasaku~” and a less pleased reply before the door slammed shut. Keeping you out locked out of their conversation, yet just close enough that your ability wouldn’t fade. Not like you would be going anywhere; not when his kisses had turned your body to jelly. 

A dirty yet very effective trick. 

But it was okay; as long as Dazai kept his part of the deal, you did not mind making the dead sing for him. 

Author note: An anon asked if i'd be posting more Dazai fics. And my answer is basically this. Another one with unclear dynamic between reader and Dazai but still I hope you enjoyed,

[originalartblog]

Have you ever seen Scott Sterling Best Volleyball Blocks Ever? I think the ADA should make use of Dazai even when he's incapacitated.

[anticidic]

I've always wondered how bsd characters came to know the names of their abilities. Like, did they name their abilities themselves? Is it like a birthright where when they first tapped into their abilities, the government or some sort of agency had to be notified and someone else officially named their abilities based on what they did?

BSD is in its own little pocket dimension that simultaneously reflects the real world and doesn't at the same time, so it'd be funny if like Natsume or Oda—since they were writers—got into a battle with someone like Chuuya or Akutagawa who tell the enemy the name of their ability and what it does, and they're like oh yeah, I've heard of that novel/piece of literature!

Just really breaking the fourth wall.

But also, if we wanna go down the route of characters naming their abilities themselves, there are some pretty good cases to be made:

Dazai doesn't like his ability and thinks it's a curse more than anything

Chuuya struggles with feeling human enough and belonging and might feel "tainted" as a result while harboring a deep sorrow

Fyodor's ability activates from the crime of murder being committed and him punishing them as a result

Then you have Fitzgerald who's full of himself and naming his ability after himself

And Natsume who is just I Am a Cat 🐈

[scrimblyscrorblo]

Poe + Lovecraft fusion!!

I like playing with the idea of fusing characters and these two combined would be a force to be reckoned with. They’re mostly just really eepy

Eldritch God + Man who’s ability is essentially creating a fictional reality = a horrifying combination

They wouldn’t enjoy being a singular entity, however. I don’t think Lovecraft would like feeling the intense human emotion Poe always feels and I don’t think Poe would like being a literal eldritch horror.

This light show itself as them being very one track minded, there’s one or two emotions that they feel very intensely

And also I picture them maybe being able to manipulate ink like this, like they begin to start fighting and you see the ink drip off the book

There’s words but they’re in a language so old and dead it is only spoken by the gods

[sableeira]

“Allow me to introduce you to the original you.”

[telephonedear]

i see your “naomi is an illusion” theory and raise you: what if tanizaki is the illusion?

[obsidianstrawberrymilk]

Mori is not a child predator nor is he an intentional abuser; narratively, he's the representation of the way Ability users are dehumanized and the justification behind it. He prioritizes the 'optimal solution'; that means that Ability users, capable of so much more than the average person, must be pushed to their brink for the good of everyone else. Mori was not lying when he told Yosano that, ordinarily, he would never be able to resist the request of a little girl; as seen in Beast, he does seem to genuinely care for children specifically. The issue, however, is that he did not see Yosano as a child due to her Ability; she could not be a person, but an instrument of a greater good. This is the same way he treats Dazai, Chuuya, and arguably himself; as Ability users they must be organs of a greater good instead of people, not afforded the same right to childhood and protection or desires.

[originalaccountname]

I'm literally throwing spaghetti I don't really expect to stick at the wall but I think it'd be sweet if by absorbing people like he did with Teruko, Amenogozen - god edition was, by the end, defeated through the power of human will because there's a lot of human souls in there very mad about this turn of fate

[homoesia]

Fic where dazai and chuuya have a physical relationship where Dazai keeps loving and leaving chuuya but Chuuya is fine with it and it's Dazai that's progressively sadder and more pathetic every time he has to go (but he has to maintain the status quo so he keeps dealing himself emotional damage critical hits on the way out and pretending its cool).

Chuuya is totally not involved in this (this is what he tells himself) aside from being a witness to dazai's descent into madness. Until dazai makes it Chuuya's problem by being a freak and almost confessing and now chuuya has to start kicking him out Right Away because Dazai has become a Threat to the status quo (not sleeping with dazai in the first place is not an option don't be silly)

Except instead of getting depressed, Chuuya's rejection gives Dazai the strength to double down on the obnoxiousness so he starts seducing Chuuya via extra romantic (and embarrassing for chuuya) expressions of emotional intimacy and now Chuuya cant kick him out Right Away because if he does he'll admit Dazai's stupid seduction tactics are working and-

Anyway imagine this nonsense goes on forever, happy end where they're in love and always have been but they can finally admit it

[sad-emo-dip-dye]

Dazais ability being called No Longer Human in reference to himself and how he feels yet for most of the people he comes into contact with there’s this potential for his ability to make them feel grounded and human is just to interesting to me

[spacexseven]

Trying to find the post I originally saw it from would take too long and plus the person who made it didn't go into detail they just said "reader with a God ability" like I'm guessing an ability that makes you God or something? I'm not too sure but if you want you can try to make it into something

But I REALLY wanted to know how would Fyodor would react because you know the story with him and god

basically reader is a kind of (forgotten) god but i didnt go too much into it so feel free to imagine whatever you'd like ^^

cw: yandere character

sometimes it occurred to you that divinity, in a world of gifted people, was ultimately meaningless. after all, who would choose to believe in a god—a presence so unclear and foreign—when they had people with powers only gods could have? when there were people with powers that defied logic, powers that decimated cities, and powers that could change the fate of the one affected within moments, what did your divinity matter?

what could you do that some ability user out there couldn't?

despite knowing there wasn't anything you could offer to regular people, you liked to walk down their streets and watch them go on about their day. there was something captivating about their lives, something that resembled what you had lost a long time ago. though in this bleak part of yokohama, most of the people you saw seemed to be weighed down by regret.

once in a while, you'd see some spectacular show of power—paper turning into a weapon, accidental deaths that you knew were not supposed to happen, people on the brink of death brought back to life in perfect health—such things did not amaze you as much as they worried you. maybe that worry came from a place of inadequacy, knowing that your own powers, while typical for a divine being, was overall unimpressive compared to these wonderful and terrifying feats.

however, the worry and the shame did not compare to the delight that followed when talking to someone. you felt alone, isolated by the things you knew and had seen as compared to the mundane lives most people lived, yet you yearned for company. most people were too busy to talk to you when they saw you seated alone, and some were put off by the strange feeling that something about you was not exactly human, but there was always someone who'd approach you first, and those people were almost always the ones that stuck with you the longest. years ago, it was a man wearing a hat and holding a cane, and more recently, a woman with red hair.

and now, it was this man with dark hair and amethyst eyes.

the very moment fyodor uttered his first words to you, you could already tell that he was unlike anyone else you had talked to before. there was something about him that was simultaneously alluring and unsettling, something that glinted in his dark eyes that told you that he knew everything you were trying to hide. even the way he held your hand in his felt like he was trying to sense something from you. still, his expression did not change—calmness evident in his face when yours was definitely teeming with intrigue. it should have embarrassed you that a human was better than you at controlling his emotions.

but there was something unusual about fyodor—the way he carried himself, the contrast between his sharp gaze and sleepy smile, the words he spoke—you could already tell that he was someone destined for great destruction. (or maybe, he was destined to be the harbinger of destruction?) he spoke to you like you were an old friend, someone he had known all his life, not finding any unease in slipping into deep conversation. his voice was soft, but each word felt purposeful.

and then, he mentioned his belief in god.

"what does a god matter," you finally asked the question that had been plaguing you for all this time, "in a world of people that are treated as gods?"

he smiled at you then, like he had been expecting it, "that is simply a result of the follies of man. isn't it disgraceful that they think of themselves as gods?"

"but what can a god do for you that some ability user out there can't?"

"what i sought, what i received, was guidance," he whispered, "my eyes were opened to the truth, and i realized my purpose. ability users parade themselves as gifted, special, but they only bring misfortune."

your heart wavered then, for the man in front of you. you never believed that ability users were blessed, or whatever some groups liked to say. in some cases, it appeared to be more of a curse than a blessing. something unwanted. was he haunted by himself as well? before you could stop yourself, your next words leaped out of your mouth, revealing your identity and subsequently confirming his suspicions.

"if so, what does that make you?"

he smiled then, wider than before. the very sight sent chills down your spine, even though very little still scared you now. he straightened up, clasping your hands within his with a newly gained fervor, with more strength than he appeared to have.

"a sinner seeking repentance from you."

you exhaled sharply, but he wasn't finished, "i know now for sure that this is the right path, and under your guidance, i will deliver your judgment, and i will reinstate you to your former glory."

danger was easy to miss when it looked like fyodor dostoevsky, and it was too late for you now. realization dawned on you a moment too late, as tendrils of consciousness slipped away from you.

among the ghosts of yokohama, fyodor was the harbinger of great destruction. and his reign of terror would start with yours.

[evilkaeya]

Living in yokohama in bsd must be crazy. Imagine you go to your balcony for some alone time after a long, tiring day and you see a kid driving up the building vertically in his pink motorbike

[leejeann]

Sometimes I go on reddit just to scroll the bungo stray dogs subreddit. I just saw someone's little user flair thing was "DOPPO POET *summons the demon core*" and idk why but that's sending me, like in a last ditch attempt to get out of a terrible situation he's like

"Damn. I didn't want it to come to this. *pushes up his glasses* Doppo Poet! Demon Core!"

"Wai- sorry- doppo poet wHAT"

[sskk-manifesto]

I'm like 98% sure Sigma is going to wake up (since they got to address what Dostoyevsky's ability is at some point), so this makes Dostoyevsky's comment on his status so funny. Dude is out there saying “I’ve got so much swag in me it killed a man” when he's actually just wet and pathetic

[anti-dazai-blog]

which light novels expand the bsd universe the most I wanna know

[sableeira]

someone free me from this very cursed The Raven Cycle inspired bsd au. rich kid Dazai spends all his time researching the supernatural and ley lines in Japan’s country side. He had a (near) death experience as a kid but was saved through supernatural means and now he is unable to die. But the gift of his immortality is unbearable to Dazai. Thus he has dedicated his life to researching the supernatural to figure out what happened to him and how to reverse it. Since his incident he has also been able to see the supernatural. Unfortunately, when he is trying to come in direct contact with the supernatural it dispels, almost like he is nullifying it.

Chuuya is the youngest in a found family household of shrine workers and spiritual mediums. He is the only one in his family that’s not inclined to the supernatural but everyone around him feels the supernatural more severely when he is around. Even though he can’t see the supernatural like his family members do, he helps out and enhances the supernatural during seances and other family business.

When Dazai and Chuuya meet, their opposing inclinations to the supernatural cancel each other out. But the same way their inclinations to the supernatural are opposing each other so are their personalities. Will they get over their differences to work together?

And then there is this little tiny detail that could shake up this potential research partnership. Chuuya has been told since he was a little kid that he would kill his true love with their first kiss. During a seance he enhanced a few months earlier, Chuuya managed to catch a glimpse of an actual ghost for the first time. The ghost of a boy who is supposed to die in the next 12 months. Lippmann told him that non-clairvoyants are only able to see the ghosts of the future-dead if they are the one to kill them… or their soulmate. The boys name? Dazai. And now that Chuuya has met him he is pretty sure he is going to kill him. Right?!