#chaosia writes

[drawnecromancy]

18 The Fool?

Easily this dumbass, Chaosia.

They're one of my Elder Scrolls characters and they keep getting themselves into Situations. Foolishest Khajiit floof to ever walk Tamriel, possibly the most overpowered.

They're fun !

Also wow, you can tell i haven't drawn them in a long time. They don't look like the last time I drew them at all.

(from this ask game)

[chaosia]

To see her lovely eyes and brighten up your day 💕

[drawnecromancysdiary]

im thinking about the differences between the two OCs that are my hero of kvatch(s) in oblivion. going to put this under a cut with a slight cw for suicide/drowning because Maeri's in shambles. And like i'm also Not putting it on my main for that.

Like first you get Maeri : she's lived in Kvatch for 15 years, she's also a mercenary so not always In There, she got in prison because she got framed for murder but she actually didn't do anything. She's been friends with Martin for A While and she's absolutely devastated when she loses him. In general the Oblivion Crisis pretty much destroys her because a Lot of people died in my playthrough with her and when i'll b writing her fanfic they Will also all die (besides in AUs, there's an AU where Baurus lives). But like main timeline? Baurus dies. Jauffre (yeah, i know he loses the amulet and shit but i still like the guy) dies too, and then it's just cherry on top of the disaster cake that Martin dies. I mean the death of the Uriel VII at the beginning is probably a shock to but less so in the fact that uh, she doesn't Know him. Honestly, in the main timeline she gets in the Shivering Isles on accident because everyone's dead why should i be alive. She literally just. tries to drown herself but doesn't manage to and ends up in front of that weird door in the middle of the Niben Bay. And like. Weird doors ? Yeah sure I know how that works. And then she just... does the entire thing and become Sheogorath. She's not exactly happy about it though she considers that she was tricked into it and ALSO she's not fond of the "you're a daedric prince, so you'll live pretty much forever now <3" bit. She wanted to die after all. She's Not Okay.

AND THEN ON THE OTHER HAND. You get Chaosia. What a fucking bastard, this Khajiit. They're... they're the 4th era Last Dragonborn, first off. How did they get here ? At the beginning of the Oblivion Crisis ? Well first of all you have to understand that they're very idiotic and tend to just shakes hands with every daedric prince that they encounter. Did they kill Miraak to become Hermaeus Mora's champion to get Knowledge ? Absolutely. They're a mess and their wife Serana is just ignoring all that bullshit at this point. So Chaosia's a dumbass. Chaosia's a dumbass with too much power on their hands, they're almost 90, they're not just an incredible fighter, wielder of the Voice, and also a Nightingale, they also happen to be Archmage and actually good at magic, too. So what do they DO when they find... a spell that they don't know ? What do they do ? They try it out without even knowing what's inside. In a "look, if I die I die" manner. And they wake up in a cell. And they're just jet-lagged enough that they don't realize WHEN they are until Uriel VII dies and they just go "oh, fuck". Because... how do you handle knowing you're helping out someone just to let them sacrifice themselves afterwards ? They're older than what I do in my Skyrim playthrough and I like to imagine that hanging out with (and eventually getting married to) Serana made them just a little less of an asshole, even if they're a mess of a person. So I'm not actually certain to how they'd react in terms of... would they be kind to Martin even knowing he dies ? Would they try to be super cold and distant to Not be friends because, "look, dude, you fucking die at the end. I've read history books." ? But that would mean revealing the future and such. Havent thought about that enough. They probably Shout directly in Mehrunes Dagon's face when he's in the Imperial city though. For fun.

[hayateart]

Thanks @chaosia for tagging me :3

Rules: You can tell a lot about someone by the type of music they listen to. Hit shuffle on your media player and write down the first 20 songs, then tag 10 people. No skipping!

So, I mostly listen to playlist on youtube or spotify so here is today’s My Mix from youtube [and what a fun mix it is today]:

1.  Verka Serduchka - Dancing Lasha Tumbai

2. Hazbin Hotel - Inside of Every Demon is a Rainbow

3. Circus Contraption - If I Told You Once

4. American Murder Song - Pretty Lavinia

5. Muse - Thought Contagion

6. This Way to ERGRESS - Tarantella

7. Rusty Cage - The Hearse Song

8. Muse - The Void

9. Rusty Cage - The Bum Song

10. IMAX - Bernadette

11. Studio Accantus - Więzienne Tango (Cell Block Tango cover)

12. Circus Contraption - Good to Know Ya

13. Mozart l’Opera Rock - Victime de moi Victoire

14. The Great Malarkey - Buckets of Blood

15. Tim Minchin - Not Perfect

16. Mumford and Sons - Broken Crown

17. Studio Accantus - Piękno jak nóż (Le Bien Qui Fat Mal cover from Mozart l’Opera Rock)

18. Hozier - Take Me to Church [it’s actually BSD AMV but that’s the song]

19. Jacek Kaczmarski - Obława

20. Aurelio Voltaire - The Night

That was an interesting mix, wasn’t it?

I tag @dsknsk, @b3ginning, @hipokryzjal, @givemeahug, @limefeathers, @cosmic-orchaid and really, anyone who wants to take part in it, because it’s a lot of fun!

[ikiyou]

I was tagged by @rafyki   Thanks!! :D

Rules: You can tell a lot about someone by the type of music they listen to. Hit shuffle on your media player and write down the first 20 songs, then tag 10 people. No skipping!

This is tough.  I download a lot of songs from youtube videos to listen to, and if they’re medleys or Japanese songs, the name and author doesn’t always come with the download or I don’t get it properly recorded, so in favor of fairness, I’ve skipped songs that I can’t give searchable info for XDDD  All of these are saved from my youtube music playlist so you’ll be able to find them all to listen to if you copy/paste them into youtube ^^  They’re all mostly upbeat and fun songs ^^

1. Chip N Dale Rescue Rangers theme by Jonathan Young

2. Lion King Medley by Anthem Lights

3. Doctor Jones by Aqua

4. Someday We’ll Know by Faky

5. Party Up!! (dance practice video) by Lol

6. Summer Mermaid by AAA

7. Nanana by Lol

8. Ladi dadi (dance practice video) by Lol

9. Aloha E Komo Mai by Hiroshi Kamiya (Lilo & Stitch)

10. Best of 2015 Medley by Anthem Lights

11. Romeo (Mafumafu and Tentsuki singing) by Honeywell

12. ごめんなさいのKissing You by E girls

13. Ice Cream by Lol

14. Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride by Jonathan Young

15. Diamond Only by E girls

16. Anniversary by E girls

17. DuckTales Opening by Jonathan Young

18. All Day Long Lady by E girls

19. Trash Candy by Granrodeo

20. Fire (dance practice video) by Lol

I’m tagging @stargazerlilith, @hello-sweetie17, @quinnlocke, @orbitalflyby, @dragonfly1129, @chaosia, @kageyamas-mom and anyone else!!  Don’t feel pressured, but have fun with it if you want to!!

[inner-dreamscape]

Pink Skies pt. 2

Title: Sirens

Part One

Also posted on AO3

The electrical buzzing of the blinking 'VANCANCY' sign outside the motel was hypnotizing. Chuuya stared blankly down at his hands, splayed open in the red light, then splayed out in the darkness when the sign blinked back off again. Again and again, his hands appeared in a haunting cycle, each time the same. Nothing changed. Nothing he did afterwards changed the fact that his hands were stained red.

It was a day to celebrate but Chuuya couldn't fathom the happiness the others felt at his first successive kill. He had to leave. He had to escape. So, he ran back to the motel room the first opportunity he got and he spent the next two hours burning his skin under a hot shower and wasting all the soap in trying to clean the red from his hands. But no matter what he did, he couldn't erase it. Couldn't wash the stink and the stickiness away. That red clung to his skin as if that person's soul haunted him for what he had done.

His hands trembled, or maybe it was his entire body. He didn't know. He wanted to cry but the shock and disgust and the urge to scream all warred within him that no tears were able to be shed. So he just sat there, on the floor next to the single bed, staring at his hands. He couldn't look away from them, didn't want to look away. Afraid that looking away would dismiss the act that he had committed. That it would devalue a human's life even if that human was rotten to the core.

He didn't know how long he had stayed there but before he knew it, the sun was rising and the red light was washed out. The only thing left were his clean palms.

Just like that.

--

Chuuya peeled a hand away from hugging his knees to stare down at them. Without his gloves on, they were the same as back then, clean and devoid of any blood. But he knew better.

The guy he managed to track down went down easily enough. It was easy to set his death up like a suicide. So wracked with guilt about putting an innocent man in critical care that he ended up hanging himself. Too late to be saved before the cops descended on him to arrest him for the drunken hit and run. He only hated that he couldn't have made a mess out of him, for Dazai.

For Oda.

It's been a whole week since Oda got out of critical care. Ango and Kunikida have been taking turns watching over the kids, with Dazai helping out whenever he wasn't by Oda's side at the hospital. The first 3 days, it took both him and Ango to drag Dazai out of the hospital room in order for Chuuya to take him home to sleep. It became easier to convince Dazai to leave once Oda woke up to tell him himself.

True to Chuuya's prediction, the first meal Oda asked for was curry. Thankfully, the nurse scheduled was able to dissuade him from breaking doctor's orders. From then on, all the nurses assigned to him had to keep an eye on the visitors to make sure none of them brought in contraband food. They kept a very strong eye on Ango, much to the man’s chagrin.

Despite the emergency surgery Oda had to go under, he escaped the crash with internal abdominal injuries, a broken arm and leg, bruised ribs and a heavy concussion. He would have to undergo physical therapy once his arm and leg healed, but the doctors were hopeful that there wouldn't be any lasting damage. Chuuya was glad. He didn’t know how he would have handled Dazai if there had been lasting damage. The scars and disabilities reminders about how they both had failed to protect family.

The noise from the shitty TV suddenly rose in volume as the characters on screen screamed at each other. He wasn't really paying attention to it, having it on as background noise. It was one of those rare days that their neighbors were away and the floor was blessedly silent. The thin walls left little to the imagination and privacy a thing to be missed. But that night, he couldn't take it. The silence. So, the TV was on.

It helped to distract his raging nerves and anxiousness. But it could only help for so long. Flipping through the limited channels, nothing caught his attention that he could fully immerse himself in. Even the game system he and Dazai scrimped and saved up for, for a joint Christmas present to themselves (and to be honest, the kids for when they visited), didn't seem enticing. He sat there, watching the over acted drama play out on the small screen. By the time the protagonist was making her exit, he had fully chewed his thumb nail down to the skin.

His partner was still visiting Oda and would probably stay there until the nurses kicked him out after visiting hours were over. Maybe he had time to go out and buy some cheap wine before Dazai came back. He had finished his stock yesterday, using liquid courage to help him finish his plan. Perhaps he could get drunk and go to bed early, forget about today and not worry about tomorrow. He means, Dazai knew he was planning something like this right? Chuuya wasn't part of the goody-goody two shoes agency so he didn't have to feel guilty over what Dazai would think. If anything, he knew almost exactly what Dazai would think. That wasn’t the problem. No. What was the problem was that he killed when he didn't have to. He killed when he promised Oda that he wouldn't become a killer like the rest of the gang. He killed when he knew for a fact that Oda wouldn't have wanted him to kill the guy that ran into him. He would have wanted Chuuya to leave it to the police and let the justice system get justice for him.

But he had promised Dazai first. He had promised himself first. That he would do anything in his power and position to keep the two of them safe from the shadows of the underworld. He stayed in the Port Mafia to thwart any and all future attempts at the two traitors should they become a target again. He stayed to keep an eye on other organizations that might deem the agency an enemy.

Dazai might argue that Chuuya was doing exactly what he was supposed to do. Nothing more and nothing less. Chuuya would be deeply inclined to agree with his partner.

Still. What was done, was done and Chuuya had to live with that for the rest of his life. He was prepared to carry that burden. Maybe he could coerce Dazai into keeping this fact a secret between them. What's one more amongst many?

His other thumb nail was gone now too. His spiraling thoughts had taken him out of the false calm he had acquired from the mindless reality TV he had settled on. He was fidgety. Angsty. He couldn't quite stop the bouncing of his leg as he stared hard at the grainy screen. God, if only he had a cigarette to chew on…

"I'm home!" Chuuya strangled a curse. He let it loose anyway once he saw the blood beading up on his thumb.

Dazai stood in the genkan, brown eyes focused on him as he removed his shoes. Chuuya ignored him, sticking his thumb in his mouth to suck the blood away. He made a face at the metallic flavor that coated his tongue. He didn’t think he had bitten so hard.

"Chuuya's not going to say 'Welcome home'?" Dazai whined, hefting the takeout bag onto the coffee table. "Even after I went out of my way to bring him food?" He directed a pout at the redhead, hoping for some sympathy.

"Welcome home, asshole." Chuuya grumbled, rummaging through the food containers to sort out their own. It was Dazai’s turn to pick up food anyways, so he got no pity from him.

"Hm."

It was Chinese that night. Peeking into each of the cartons, he found sesame chicken, pork fried rice, white rice, kung pao beef, egg rolls and some lin yueng bau. He claimed the fried rice, kung poa and lin yueng bau for himself, pushing the rest to the other side of him for Dazai. He dug in.

"Chuuya." Dazai called, still standing from the spot beside the couch.

He grunted, mouth stuffed with spicy kung pao and eyes glued to the TV. He knew that tone of voice. He was the ‘we need to have a serious talk’ voice because they were doing that now. Talking. No more secrets between them, they had decided. He was going to try to waylay the inevitable but Dazai hadn’t been known as the Demon Prodigy for nothing.

"Chuuya." Dazai called again, reaching a hand out to turn the red heads face towards him.

Chuuya swallowed down his food, lips pulling down into a frown. "What."

Dazai stared at him intently, getting that furrow between his brows when he was displeased with something. The look made Chuuya bristle. A callus free thumb swiped the splattering of sauce off of puffy lips. A pink tongue couldn't help but dart out and lick the digit. Appalled at his own tongue, Chuuya ripped his chin away from Dazai's soft hands.

"What?" He asked again, annoyed.

"What's wrong with Chuuya." And wasn't that a loaded question.

"Nothing's wrong with me. Sit down and eat already." He took his own advice and went back to eating.

Dazai sat down, but didn't make any moves to eat. He was still staring at Chuuya and Chuuya had no doubt in his mind that Dazai was figuring things out. He always did. He was the only person in the whole world who understood him to his core and he him in return. So he knew that Dazai was gearing up to have a serious talk, but honesty? Chuuya didn't want to have it. Yeah, he knew he would have to discuss this at some point, but not right now. Not tonight. His refusal to look at Dazai signified that.

The slender hand reached out again, this time, grabbing for the takeout carton. Chuuya made a noise a protest, but ultimately had to let it go if he didn't want the beef and bell pepper to fall from his chopsticks. He watched as the container was set back onto the table with the rest of the food. He slowly ate the rest from his chopsticks to prolong the conversation.

"You killed someone." Dazai stated, not asked. Because he knew. Chuuya didn't have to ask how he came to that conclusion. Dazai's seen him plenty of times after missions where he was forced to kill someone in self-defense and Chuuya was exhibiting those habits right in front of him. "Who was it?"

"No one you know." His leg started bouncing again. ‘When had it stopped?’

"Liar."

Chuuya glared. "It's true! It's not someone you know." Technically it was true. Dazai didn't know that guy's name. Chuuya didn't know either but to-ma-to, to-mah-to.

"But I know of them. You're more…keyed up than usual. That only happens when it's someone we have in common." A light seemed to go off in his head. "It was that guy."

"What guy?" His heart beat faster. He knew.

"The one that hit Oda." One look at Chuuya's face confirmed his answer. He smirked lightly. "I'm right."

"Whatever." He mumbled, reaching for the food.

Dazai stopped him. Chuuya groaned, leaning back into the couch.

"How did you do it?" Chuuya didn't like the look that infiltrated those brown eyes. ‘He shouldn’t have those thoughts’ he remembered thinking once. More than once because old habits die hard, and yes it was a habit. Until Dazai taught himself better, he knew the other would still be having them. And hadn’t that been the part of the reason he had stayed in the Port Mafia in the first place? To protect the both of them but also to help foster that new outlook on life; that life was worth something more than the pain and suffering of others at your hands.

Discussing this situation was going to be hard without bringing Dazai’s bloodlust back out from wherever it was buried. But Dazai had agreed to Chuuya’s terms of handling the guy himself, so it was a start.

"No. We are not going to talk about this. I'm not going to tell you how."

"I can always look it up." He threatened.

"Not if I ask you not too. And not if you want to keep this just between us." Chuuya fired back.

"Are you?"

"What? Going to ask you not to look it up?" Dazai nodded.

Chuuya remained silent, thinking about his answer. He wanted to say yes. Keep everything buried deep down under, and he knew that Dazai would take his request seriously. But that's how things ruined. It would fester and fester until it was eating him up inside. Until there was nothing else left inside him. Didn't they say the best thing for a wound to heal was to let it breathe?

Letting Dazai look up the information saved him from having to say everything out loud. And wasn't he just a right coward for thinking it in actuality.

He wasn't a coward.

"No. No I'm not." And Dazai smiled at him, pleased. They've come a long way into their relationship. "But I am asking that you not do it right away. I'll tell you. Later. Just…not right now, okay?"

"Okay." Dazai slid the hand that was holding Chuuya's arm, down until he was holding Chuuya's hand in his own. He gave the smaller one a reassuring squeeze. "That’s all I ask."

Chuuya silently nodded.

"Are you still hungry?" Their food was probably already cold.

"Not that much, no." He lost most of his appetite at the mention of his heinous deed.

The leg that was not curled up on the couch supporting their hands was still bouncing. It stilled briefly at the heavy sigh that escaped from Dazai. The other's hand left his for a moment, fishing in his back pocket for something. Chuuya silently missed the warmth.

Dazai pulled out an unfamiliar packet of cigarettes. He shook one out, gripping it with his mouth and pulling before shaking another out and offering it to Chuuya. It strangely reminded Chuuya of the morning in front of the hospital.

‘A lot of things are.’

Curiously, he took the cigarette, holding it up to his nose to sniff it. There was a fruity scent about it, different from the spice and tobacco from their usual. Seeing the question on his partner's face, Dazai told him, "They're new. The company just came out with them a month ago; fruit flavors. That one's strawberry." The painted ring underneath the filter was red. Looking over, Dazai's was yellow. Lemon.

Dazai pulled out a lighter and lit his, taking a deep breath to get the smoke going. The scent of lemons surrounded them as smoke escaped those parted lips. Intrigued and impatient, Chuuya leaned forward with his own cigarette tucked between his lips, pressing the tip against the smoldering end of Dazai's.

He didn't notice the deep inhale from Dazai, or the widening of his brown eyes. Instead, he focused on keeping the tips pressed together, trying to light his own. After a few seconds, the cigarette started catching. He moved back a little to see if it was enough when his eyes caught Dazai's. Blue eyes took in the heated look that covered Dazai's face.

The scents of lemon mixed with strawberry wafted into their noses as Chuuya's started burning. Slowly, Dazai reached out to pluck the stick from Chuuya's mouth and his own before crashing his lips onto the shorter.

Chuuya could have sworn he heard Dazai mutter into his mouth, "Beautiful" as he returned the kiss.

The kissing didn't last long and the strawberry stick was shoved back into his mouth. Rolling his eyes, he took a drag, tasting the flavor on his tongue. It was tart from the taste of Dazai and lemon, and Chuuya couldn't bring himself to hate it.

"I like the strawberry." He said at last, taking another taste.

He felt a weight on his left side as Dazai tipped over, resting his head on Chuuya's shoulder.

"Hm, I like the lemon." Dazai smiled, releasing the smoke in Chuuya's face.

"It's sour like you, no wonder." The redhead teased.

"And you're red, your point?"

Chuuya rolled his eyes. "Shut up, shitty mackerel."

They spent the rest of the evening bickering and watching trash TV, cuddled into each other. They didn't talk about the drunk driver again that night, thankfully. When they crawled into bed around 2 in the morning Chuuya felt like himself again. He peeled his hands away from Dazai's back to look at them once more. They were clean. Sighing, he cuddled Dazai closer to himself, burying his face into fluffy brown hair. There will always be blood on his hands, whether they were clean or not, but he had Dazai there to help with the burden of it. That was all he could ask for.

The distant sound of sirens, filtered faintly into their bedroom.

[inner-dreamscape]

Through the Night

Soukoku fluff week 2020

Day 1:  Sunrise.

Through the Night

Dazai released the corpse, watching it sink underneath the rolling waves.

It was over. It was finally over.

His chest heaved in exhaustion as the tension bled out from his body, the danger permanently gone. He stood at the edge of the broken wall, gaze numbingly blank and his head for once, blessedly silent. He existed in a state of unknown, something he’s never, in his 1200 years of living as the undead, had ever felt. The only time that came close was his death as a human mortal and rebirth into the creature many known to be called a vampire. The feeling of happiness and unpleasantness warred within him, creating a nauseating mix.

Mori was dead.

But so were many others.

He once again survived where others didn’t.

A wet cough accompanied by wet sounding breathing knocked him out of his stupor. Ah! That was right! Chuuya!

Turning away from the black sea, he rushed over to the side of the heaving redhead. Gently, he helped Chuuya shift into a more comfortable position, allowing him to fully vomit the blood and water filling his lungs. Chuuya for his part fumbled through the 4-inch-deep pool of water, seeming to search for something. Almost like reading his mind, Dazai reached out to grab the wandering smaller one, squeezing it. The returned squeeze relaxed something within Dazai.

They had both made it through the arduous night.

Chuuya coughed a bit more before straightening up to sit back on his legs, hand refusing to let go. His labored breathing, which had sounded wet with the fluids accumulating into his pierced lungs, softened out until the sound disappeared completely. ‘The healing ability of a god’s vessel sure is amazing’ Dazai thought.

“Are you okay?” The raspy voice of Chuuya came with a pair of intense blue eyes, capturing his own like a moth to a flame.

Dazai remained silent. He knew what Chuuya was asking. Whether he was okay physically, and whether he was okay with what had just transpired. Truthfully, Dazai didn’t know how to answer him. He still hadn’t absorbed everything that had happened only a few minutes ago. Only a few minutes ago where he, with the help of a god of destruction, killed the first ever vampire.

There were many myths and legends stating about the aftermath should the father of all vampires be killed, but Dazai didn’t experience any of it. Didn’t feel like he experienced any of it. As far as he could tell, he was still a vampire. Or maybe a weird rendition of a vampire. Either way, he was still the undead; of that he was absolutely sure of.

His heart still remained unbeating.

Seeming to have read all of that through his staring, Chuuya let the unanswered question go. Instead, he used the grip on his hand to stand up, dragging Dazai back up as well.

“Well, never mind. You’re obviously still in shock.” Chuuya figured, raising up a bare hand to lightly touch the back of his fingers to Dazai’s cheek.

Letting out a noncommittal hum, he stretched out his hand to fully caress that ruddy cheek. Dazai leant into the cool palm, closing his eyes for just a little while. Chuuya, as someone who was created to hold in a destructive entity, naturally ran hotter than most humans did. Body overworking to keep contained the monster sealed within. But, with the last fight and the number of external wounds he had acquired (though no longer visible), the blood loss was something they would have to address at some point. His cool palms were evident of that, even though right now, Dazai was secretly grateful for the contrast.

Chuuya’s thumb rubbed underneath his eye before traveling down to swipe gently over his pale lips. The temptation to open his mouth and run a fang over that callused thumb, to nick it just enough to produce a bead of crimson blood was there. But he had no appetite. Not right then. Maybe not for a long while.

Rustling of fabric and the staccato rhythm of Chuuya’s heart descending into an allegro movement had him opening his eyes. Their foreheads were touching, warming almost instantly and they were close. Not only once had Dazai been glad he didn’t have to breathe. Chuuya would be none the wiser to how affected he made Dazai. How his scent, his blood, his eyes and hair and his everything just drove Dazai deeper and deeper into an obsession. Drove him further and further into the thing called love.

His nonexistent breath catched.

Chuuya smiled.

“We made it through the night.” He released his breath like he had been holding it in for an eternity, dissolving into a breathless laugh. Those gorgeous ocean blue eyes closed in mirth, body leaning heavily against the vampire. “We made it, we made it, we made it.” He mumbled.

“En.” Dazai agreed, transfixed.

Chuuya backed away, taking a few steps through the water. His hand dropped away but not the one still clasped tightly in Dazai’s. The smile was there, still, as he lightly swung their hands side to side.

“What shall we do now, Mr. Vampire? You’re goal in life has now been fulfilled. What’s next on your list?” Chuuya tilted his head to the side. “World domination?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Dazai didn’t have to think that hard to figure out what his next plan would be. He was standing right in front of him after all.

“No.”

“No?”

“Too much effort, not enough benefits.”

“Ah.” Chuuya agreed. “You’d definitely throw all the tasks onto me anyways. Absolutely not. Anything else?”

Using their physical connection, Dazai tugged the small redhead closer to himself, easily slipping an arm around his petite waist.

“Worry not, Partner, I can think of a few things for us to do.”

He bent down, capturing those smirking lips with his own. The kiss was unhurried and gentle. They didn’t go deeper, knowing that this wasn’t the time and place for anything too heavy. As they slowly separated, Dazai wasted a minute thinking about when exactly he had closed his eyes.

His decent mood quickly drained away as his eyes caught onto something behind Chuuya.

Chuuya for his part, couldn’t understand why Dazai’s eyes widened and his face became even paler. Whipping around, he franticly searched the area looking for any enemies. Or worse, Mori. But they were the only ones there. He turned back around, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Dazai, by then had already released him, hand trying to tug out of the other’s. “Let go. Let go let go let go!” He tugged again, but with the remaining strength he had left, he was no match for Chuuya’s raw muscles. “Chuuya, let go!” Chuuya immediately complied, confused.

“Dazai! What’s-?” He seemed to get a clue.                  

But by then it was already too late.

The first golden rays of the sun slipped past the horizon, dancing across the waves and into the mess of a castle. They had forgotten. They had completely forgotten. It was sunrise. Vampires couldn’t exist in the sun. They burned.

Chuuya dodged in front of a frozen Dazai, trying his best to cover as much of him as possible as he stumbled out of his clothes. But with his short height, it wasn’t helping as much as he would like and his shirt was being such a bitch-

“Chuuya.”

At the whisper of his name, Chuuya had no choice but to look up… and he was in awe.

There, alighted on his partner’s face were the warm golden strings of the sun. The pale skin underneath unbearably smooth like marble. He wasn’t burning. Dazai wasn’t burning in the light.

He stood there tense and frozen.

Completely mystified, Dazai raised a hand, plunging it further into the sunlight. He curled it this way and that, like he was playing with water. He was alright. He wasn’t burning to a crisp. Shining chocolate eyes gazed back at Chuuya. Chuuya, hopeful, shakily reached out to grab Dazai’s hand again. It was warm. It was so extraordinarily warm.

“You…you’re okay.” He murmured. “But-” How?

Dazai didn’t answer him. He didn’t know how to answer him. It wasn’t for a lack of words that he suddenly couldn’t, but this miracle was just too much. In 1200 years, he’s missed the sun. Always hiding in the shadows and walking the world under the cover of night. Never being able to wish Chuuya a proper good morning, or go on any brunch dates or get breakfast or go shopping or anything normal with Chuuya. Always afraid of the giant star in the sky.

But he wasn’t burning.

Wetness on his face caused him to flutter his eyes. He brought up the occupied hand to wipe away some tears. He was crying. He was in the sun and he was crying.

He couldn’t help the wobbly smile that appeared on his face.

Those fingers clutching his took over the task of wiping the tears away. When it became too many, Dazai instead brought their hands to his shaky lips, kissing Chuuya’s fingers. Chuuya, unable to hold his sniffles back anymore, laughed gently at the ticklish sensation.

“What a night.” He told him gently, tugging Dazai along with him back to the edge of the castle.

“I think you mean, what a morning.” Dazai corrected.

“Yeah, yeah. What a morning!”

What a morning indeed it was. They killed the father of vampires, saved a supernatural race from extinction, and now a vampire was standing in the sun. Nothing could prepare for such a sight. The beautiful sight of Dazai standing together with him as the sun rose higher into the sky. Seeing him experience the warmth he no doubt whether consciously or subconsciously missed.

He wanted to draw.

His hands itched to stretch the way Dazai’s head was subtly tilted up, like a sunflower seeking the heat of the sun. How the golden rays gently caressed that pale face, bring color back into it as the blood vessels warmed up and the shining that reflected from the tear stains. Of the color that Dazai’s hair glinted into, all golden highlights and dark sands. That small, genuine smile that lasted more than a few seconds. He wanted to capture it all down, creating an eternal moment on paper. Even though he knew Dazai would call him a sentimental simpleton and tease him about it while simultaneously trying to hide the art away from any and all prying eyes that weren’t Dazai. He already had a name in mind for it too.

The first sunrise.

[inner-dreamscape]

Got inspired by a Soriku fanfic I was reading. So this is a sort of Kingdom Hearts Au with Soukoku drabble.

---

And somewhere, deep inside of him Chuuya is some what tired of it. Of all the chasing and worrying and fighting after Dazai. A vengeful and malicious voice inside his head wishes that once, just once, would it be nice for Dazai to chase him instead. For Dazai to make the sacrifices he's had to make. For Dazai to question his heart and go against everything in his body and the very thing that's integrated as well as separated from him tells him to do. For Dazai to care enough to tear the world apart and swim through his own darkness to find him waiting in the light that's hidden deep within his heart, safe and protected. That all this time, he's been carrying around Chuuya's heart while Chuuya carried his. But it's not the way it is. It's never going to be that way, not when Dazai has his sticky grubby hands in everything and is a shit communicator and for some goddamn reason finds joy in torturing Chuuya without ever physically being there to witness it.

And sometimes, when the darkness threatens to consume him, and he can feel himself slip into sadness, Chuuya thinks Dazai was on to something in his suicide attempts. That maybe, he would like to try it one time. One day. That maybe there's something to it after all. But he never gets far with these thoughts. He did mention that Dazai is a sadist right? The bastard always seems to time his stupid schemes with his bouts of depression and then Chuuya's off again, chasing after this sliver of hope of finding Dazai again. Of waking him up. Of dragging him into his arms so he can smother him dead just to keep him by his side.

Chuuya hates it.

Chuuya loves it.

Loves Dazai.

Hates Dazai.

Will never, ever cease to try.

Will never, ever cease to chase.

Will never, ever cease to love him.

--

"My numerous attempts to wake you from bed,

Have all been a big failure.

I'm lost though I will never cease to try." - Wake Up Call (BSD Dead Apple OST)

[inner-dreamscape]

Alec sent up a prayer for small miracles and turned the key. The lock softly clicked open. Sighing out in relief, he opened the door and stopped shortly. Jace, Clary, Isabelle and even Simon were all sitting and crying around Magnus’ living room. Pulling his key out, he left the door to slowly close behind him. The noise made the others whip in his direction. Alec hoped they didn’t get whiplash with how fast they all swiveled their heads.

“Why are you all dark and gloomy? It’s like someone died or something.” It was like standing at a funeral with the way they were a mess with tears and grief.

“Alec…?” Jace whispered leaning forward in his seat, almost dislodging Izzy from her place on his shoulder. “But how can you-?” He looked at the closed door then back to Alec, sitting up straighter, eyes clearing from his tears.

Glancing at the others to see confusion and hope all on their faces painted the picture pretty clearly for him. “Oh. I died.” So that made sense why he didn’t have as much trouble as before.

[more under cut]

That must mean that Magnus was with the other him, no doubt trying to save him. He waved off the rapid fire questions aimed at him and jogged into the master bedroom. Inside was a scene that broke his heart. It was a scene that he’s come used to seeing and he hated it. Strong and pretty Magnus was torn and heartbroken, holding tight onto the limp Alec, sobbing.

“Magnus…” He said solemnly, wanting to comfort the man but knowing that it wasn’t his place.

Hearing his familiar voice, Magnus pulled his face away from the body and dull yellow eyes took him in. They quickly glanced at the body in his arms before looking back at him, wandering if he was hallucinating or seeing Alec’s ghost one last time before he sets off into the afterlife. Alec hated that look so much.

“Alexander?” Magnus whispered, pulling the other Alec’s body closer to his chest.

“Yes and no.” He shook his head to cut off any further questions. “How long ago did he stop breathing?” He’s learned not to say die anymore.

Magnus, clearly confused but willing to go along if only to keep talking to Alexander for a little bit longer, replied, “A few minutes ago.”

“Good, then there’s still time to save him.” Alec quickly lost his jacket and rolled up his sweater sleeves.

Gently he pried Magnus off the body, which was easy to do as he was shocked that he could actually feel the ghost of Alec’s hands on him. When Alec managed to set the body lying on the bed again, he started to remove his shadowhunter gear. This wasn’t the first time he’s brought back an Alec, and he’s learned after that first time not to have any conductors on his person.

“Okay, now where is his stele?” He looked around and found it discarded by the bottom of the bed along with a torn shirt and a seraph blade. Grabbing it, it went back to his place on the other side of the body where Magnus was not occupying. “Okay, so I’m going to need your help in bringing him back.”

“My help?” Magnus asked. “I don’t know what more I can do?”

“I just need your life force. I’ll do most of the work.” He started drawing a rune on Alexander’s chest, over his heart to be exact. “-and we need that there, then this, and then a little loop there and-” He paused and glanced at Magnus. “You are a warlock and immortal right?” Cause that was something that has to be true in order for the ritual to work.

“Yes, I am. Why are you asking?”

“Good. I need you to be immortal since I am taking your life force, and since you are immortal, you-”

“-have enough to supply for an extra life.” Magnus finished, getting it now.

“Yes. Now,” he drew the last line on the rune and then held out his left hand from Magnus to take. With no hesitation, Magnus grasped it and help on tightly. “Clench your teeth!” And he placed his hand on top of the rune, activating it.

The rune was complicated in design but simple in its function. Sparks flew from his hand before transforming into lightning that slithered and arc over his arms up around his shoulders and straight down into his hand clasped in Magnus’. Alec was happy to see that Magnus had taken his advice and clench down on his teeth, holding in a scream. He grunted and groaned, but he didn’t let go of Alec’s hand. In a matter of minutes, the lightning receded away from their hands and back down into Alexander’s chest. As the last streak of lightning absorbed into the pale chest, the body beneath his palm shuddered and heaved as it came back to life.

Releasing the warlock’s hand and taking his palm away from the chest, now sans the rune, he watched as hazel eyes fluttered open. Grinning he clapped Magnus on the shoulder. “It worked! Congratulations!”

“What the hell is going on? Who the hell are you?” The voice of Jace startled them all. Alec didn’t notice the four people gathered around the door.

“W-what?” Alexander croaked out, trying to sit up. Magnus gently stopped him, pushing him back on the bed.

“Seeing as my work here is done, I’m going to go raid the fridge!” With that, he pushed passed the door jams and made his way to the kitchen.

The others were torn between him and their brother, and Jace made to follow him while Izzy and the others checked on the now revived Alexander. Searching the fridge, he found left over Chinese and eagerly, he opened the container, letting out a whoop when he saw it was mushoo pork.

“Who are you?” Jace asked, pulling the container away from him.

“Alec Lightwood.” He said going after the food.

“Try again, Alec Lightwood is laying in that room.”

“A Alec Lightwood. Or is it an Alec Lightwood?” He shook his head. “Your Alec Lightwood is laying in that room, but another’ Alec Lightwood is right here. Hi. Look, once everyone is okay enough to process information, I’ll explain everything and what’s going on. But right now? I’m starving, so thanks, I’ll have that mushoo pork now.” Grabbing the plate back, he dove into the cold food.

--

“Everyone’s okay now, now explain.” Jace demanded.

They were all in Magnus’s bedroom again, surrounding the two who were on the bed. They didn’t want to be any further away from Alexander than what was necessary. He could understand that so he didn’t fight them on it.

“Hello, I am Alec Lightwood. I’m from another dimension.” He held up his hands when mouths started opening to ask questions. “You want proof? There are two Alec’s in this room. Now, where I’ve come from, we’ve been dealing with something that is able to travel to other parallel worlds. It was a recent new development as it couldn’t do that before. Everywhere that it goes, it’s been doing the same exact thing in each realm. And that is, for some reason, it’s been killing off the Alec Lightwoods in that dimension. Whether they were a shadowhunter like us, or a downworlder, or even a mudane. It’s been killing them before jumping into a new world. I’ve been following it, trying to get to the other world before it does to warn the Alec’s there, but so far I’ve been coming in too late. A lot of other Alec’s have died, but I’ve manage to bring some of them back, like I did to you.” He gestured to Alexander. “I’ve been keeping contact with the others I’ve saved. They’re trying to piece together it’s motive. And it’s slowly coming, and I must say. I don’t like what I’m finding one bit.”

[inner-dreamscape]

Munakata Reisi fixed his glasses.

He was annoyed.

The body they had found was skinned identically as the last four bodies Septer4 was called in for. It’s been months and they’ve yet to gain any new suspects or find any new leads. It annoyed him. Especially so now that he had to include him in the investigation. His superior has been on his ass lately with the case and he’s been not so subtly hinting that Munakata go talk to their consultant.

Their consultant being a man named Suoh Mikoto. A barbarian if you ask Munakata, a damn amazing detective according to everyone else. And that was because none of them had to deal with him for as long as he has too. Damn, he could feel a headache blooming just from the mere thought of that brute.

Rubbing his forehead, he left his lieutenant and lead investigator, Awashima Seri and Fushimi Saruhiko respectively, to finish processing the crime seen. He needed to gather the papers on the case file to give to Suoh for looking over. As much as he hates to admit it, Suoh can get the job done. He just has a terrible personality that Munakata dislikes.

Later that evening after making copies of the pictures and reports made on the recent crime scene, he made the trip to Suoh’s nondescript ‘office’. Suoh calls it an office Munakata disagrees. The police consultant was sent up in a bar owned by a childhood friend, Kusanagi Izumo. A small paper sign was taped to one of the windows that people usually missed. Munakata never understood how Suoh could make a living like that but somehow he managed.

The small bell above the door rung softly, alerting the owner that a potential customer came in. When he saw that it was the captain of Septor4, he just nodded his head in the direction of Suoh’s ‘office’. The room was small, only allowing a single desk, 2 patient chairs and a small bookshelf that was used by Anna, Suoh’s young ward. Suoh himself sat behind the desk, leaving back haphazardly with his feet on the desk and coloring book settled on his face. Munakata could hear the light snores from where he stood.

Pursing his lips, he tore the book off and slapped the folder in his hand onto the peacefully asleep face. He felt no remorse for the rude awakening. When he removed the blue folder, glazed over golden eyes stared back at him.

“Munakata.” Suoh greeted.

“Suoh.” The captain fixed his glasses. “I-”

“No.” The red haired man interrupted, closing his eyes trying to go back to sleep.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“Exactly what it means. I refuse.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

“You’re giving me a case. I don’t want it.”

Munakata gritted his teeth. He slapped the folder on the desk and bite out “You have 48 hours.” Before turning to leave.

“You’re always nice to other people, yet you’re cruel to me.”

“That’s because they are not you.” He glanced over his shoulder. “48 hours Suoh. Get. It. Done.” And he walked out, leaving the red haired man to stare at his back.

Sighing, Suoh grabbed the file and flipped it open. Pictures of a person without their skin stared up at him. He laid out the contents, briefly skimming the reports from the other detectives and fully reading Munakata’s. The 4 victims were found within their own homes skinned expertly with no blood left at the scene. There are no witnesses or any noise complaints and the bodies were always found a few days after the incident. The police were stumped and couldn’t find any viable suspects.

Suoh dismissed the 3 other vctums, instead focusing on the 4th.

He’s seen this before.

It was a shapeshifter.

[inner-dreamscape]

Cold.

The hand on Dazai’s back was cold. It was small and petite, calloused despite being covered in soft lamb skin leather gloves for hours and hours on end. It was weird. Cold wasn’t something Dazai thought about when thinking of the owner of the hand. When he thought of his partner, words like fire, intense, loyal, dog, soft, sad, short, mine and Chuuya come to the forefront of his mind. Not cold.

Not someone who harbors the embodiment of calamity and destruction and chaos.

But it is. The evidence is right there, laying softly between his shoulder blades.

It’s been a few hours that it’s been there and still it wasn’t warm. Usually when they’re this close, Chuuya would become hot and uncomfortable enough to roll over to the other side of the bed, searching for some release from the heat their bodies created. Dazai would roll after him, missing the warmth Chuuya’s body produces like a portable furnace and usually stops chasing once he lands into the heat-soaked sheets left behind.

Dazai sighs.

He turns his head to better look at Chuuya. His partner was fast asleep, soft snores escaping his parted mouth. He was alive. Reaching out a hand, he gently rests his fingers over where Chuuya’s pulse would be, having to double check to make sure he was still breathing. Still having blood flowing through his veins into the rest of his body to bring heat and oxygen to his limbs. He drags his fingers lightly up his throat, sliding across the sharp jaw and up to the apple of his cheeks.

Ah, even Chuuya’s face was cold.

He stayed like that for a while, not paying attention to the slippage of time.

The hand on his back and the skin touching his fingers still have not warmed up yet.

Maybe he needed help in warming up. They did have the ceiling fan and the wall mounted AC unit running in the middle of Yokohama’s hottest summer night in the last 20 years that broke the record to date. Still, the air was humid, but the AC was doing its job of cooling down the room and by extension them…. Chuuya.

He knows his partner will be mad in the morning when he wakes up covered in sweat despite their actions to keep the heat at bay, but it wasn’t right. Chuuya shouldn’t ever be this cold unless he was dead. And damn Dazai if he was going to let his petite mafia be dead before him.

Shifting onto his side, he removed the hand and the arm from around him, bringing the limb down between them. He wrapped his own uncovered arms around Chuuya’s shoulders instead, pulling him in to nestle into Dazai’s chest. Chuuya was the perfect size to easily hear Dazai’s beating heart when they were like this. It feels like Chuuya is hearing all of Dazai’s secrets that he keeps locked up in there. But he won’t remember when he wakes up, like a dream fading away with the sun light. But that’s okay, Dazai will let Chuuya hear them again tomorrow night. And the next, and the next, until he’s filled to the brim and they become Chuuya’s own.

He stuffs his face into bright orange hair, reminiscent of the fiery warmth he associates with his partner.

Ah, he thinks as he's falling asleep, he’s finally warm.

[inner-dreamscape]

Chuuya…Chuuya was fucking happy, alright!?

That bandage wasting device was finally out of his life for good, that means no more high-blood pressure from being constantly angry. No more hearing his whining. No more being used in his fucking schemes because he’s a bastard like that. No more being called short and no more digs against his fashion sense and hat. It’s been over 6 months since Dazai’s death and goddammit Chuuya’s moved on!

So why is it, that after leaving Chuuya again (for good this time) that, that fucking mackerel is still causing him problems from beyond the grave? Chuuya’s paid his dues. He should be free from the curse that is Dazai and the misfortune he causes to people for fun.

So, Chuuya laughs.

He laughs and laughs and laughs.

He laughs until he can’t breathe and tears are rolling down his cheeks. Whether they’re from him unable to breathe properly or from the overwhelming grief and anger that punched his gut at the mention of Dazai needing him. He doesn’t know. Doesn’t really care. Dazai’s dead dammit and there’s no bringing him back. There’s no way Dazai has ever or will ever need Chuuya.

So he laughs at the ludicrously of it all.

“I’m being serious here, Nakahara-san!” The supposed Shinigami pleads. She’s flustered with his reaction, cheeks red and puffed out in annoyance.

“I’m sure you are. Though I can assure you, that annoyance doesn’t need me.” He says breathless, catching up after his laughing episode. “Besides, he’s dead. I’m alive. He’s no longer my problem. Nor my concern.” He holds up a gloved hand to cut off the protest the Shinigami no doubt wants to do. “I can’t help. I won’t help. Please excuse me.”

He steps around the girl, intent on heading back to his apartment. He’s thankful it’s in the evening and cold out. Not a lot of people to see him talking to thin air. No need to have people viewing him as crazy. Besides, he’s still holding out that the girl is an ability user trying to distract him. Why? He doesn’t know but he’s alert for a possible attack. Clever, to mention his… attachment to Dazai but he’s had weeks to prep himself to dismiss obvious taunts from enemies.

He’s had to deal with Dazai’s enemies coming after him after learning of his death. Distraught of not finishing him off themselves and a shot for retribution, they’ve all decided to take their revenge out on something that they still can; Chuuya. He spent the first 3 weeks beating off a shit ton of pests, working out his frustration and grief off on those foolish enough to go after him. by the middle of the second month, Dazai’s enemies stopped coming after him once they realized that Chuuya was a force not to be reckoned with. As much as he was pissed at Dazai for making so many enemies and forcing Chuuya to once again clean up his mess, he was somewhat grateful. It gave him something to do, something to focus all of his raging emotions on. Punching things out, he was able to sort out the left over thoughts and move on. 

But now… now someone was trying to take him back into all that mess, kicking and screaming and no. No he won’t do it. That part of his life was over and done with and he was not going to look back.

He heard “I’m sorry!” before he was stumbling.

The next thing that he knows, he is standing in the middle of the street. Gaze down, he doesn’t look at the Shinigami who appears next to him.

“You.” He starts. “You.” He says again and stops. He’s trying to get his thoughts in order, to form something, anything but they’re static. His gaze remains down.

“Nakahara-san, I-” The Shinigami tries, distraught.

“You…” Chuuya cuts the girl off. “…you pushed me.” Blue eyes finally lift to pin the black cloaked girl in place. They were hard and cold and murderous. “You pushed me…in front of a car.”

“I-I had no choice!” The girl exclaimed, hand gripping her robe tight and eyes slamming shut. “I’m so sorry Nakahara-san!”

In front of Chuuya laid his body, dead and bloody as the driver who hit him called for an ambulance. He could feel familiar rage rise up inside of him. The last time he’s felt a rage like this, he was in Corruption beating down a beast made from fog. His hands curled into fists and he had to hold himself back from beating the ever living (or is it dead?) shit out of the Shinigami.

“No choice?” Chuuya hisses, eyes narrowed and idly notices the driver shivering even more in the cold weather.

“I was ordered to do anything I have to just as long as I take you with me back to my master.” She squeaks.

“You know,” Chuuya starts, rage curiously absent in his tone, replaced by a tone the girl couldn’t identify. “I’ve never heard of a Shinigami dying, but I sure would love to test out that theory. Want to give death a try?”

The girl shrieks when Chuuya takes a step in her direction and she calls out a name Chuuya doesn’t recognize. Fire erupts around him and he’s sinking. In less than a second he’s consumed by flames and brought into darkness where he passes out to a haunting laughter.

—

Chuuya wakes up to something poking his cheek and a voice singing his name. he groans in despair.

“Chu-uu-ya~❤️”

“…fuck!”

“Perhaps later~”

In a testament of how familiar and the number of time’s Chuuya had to do this, his fist drives straight into Dazai’s stomach with perfect accuracy and force.

“Go to hell!” He growls, sitting up.

“Already here Chibi.” Dazai wheezes, arm curled around his stomach.

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Chuuya seethes, getting to his feet.

“Already dead!” Dazai grins.

With a yell Chuuya aims a flying kick towards Dazai’s head, but having predicted this, he ducks out of the way. He proceeds to dodge every punch and kick his ex-partner throws his way, grin widening when this frustrates Chuuya even more. Chuuya’s aim becomes a little more wild when his vision goes blurry and he can’t see Dazai clearly anymore.

Tears.

There were tears in his eyes and he didn’t understand why? Frustration? Sadness? Happiness? Frustration that he couldn’t land another solid hit on Dazai? Sadness at how he lived without this for 6 months? Happiness that he could actually (finally) touch that damn bastard again, that he was really there? The tears broke free from his lashes to drip down his face.

No sooner had the first teardrop descended his face was he expertly pulled into a hug that didn’t allow him enough room to properly punch Dazai. He struggled to get out of the hold to no avail. He was trapped within his arms. Instead, he buried his face into Dazai’s shoulder where he savagely bit down into his flesh and tried his hardest to claw his nails through Dazai’s clothes to tear into his back. Blood filled Chuuya’s mouth but he refused to let go. He was crying in earnest now.

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you-” Chuuya sobbed, fist weakly pounding any and every where they could reach.

“I know.” Dazai told him, letting the redhead hit him as much as he liked but kept him still within his arms.

[inner-dreamscape]

It was silent within the room, the tv on mute and the window AC humming without effort to chill the spacious den. Hitsugaya Toushiro flipped a page of his puzzle book, pencil scratching lightly on the paper. The 10th division taichou sat on top of one Kurosaki Ichigo, who was spread out on the couch, sleeping on his stomach. From his spot on his boyfriend's lower back, he could feel the tiny shivers racking through the carrot top's body. Despite wearing a long sleeve shirt and sweatpants, Ichigo was still cold. It didn't help that it was currently winter and Karakura was receiving snow. 

Gently removing himself, he perched his book with the pencil marking his page on top of the coffee table. Without his lover's weight to keep him still, Ichigo flopped over onto his back. Toushiro rolled his eyes fondly and moved the throw blanket over the teen. The substitute shinigami let out a contented sigh, settling back into his dreams. Snorting, the tiny taichou grabbed his book and reinstated his previous position, but this time on Ichigo's stomach.

He passed time like that, lulled by the even breathes from his boyfriend that brought his body up and down with each inhale and exhale. Toushiro was on an extended leave from Seireitei, much to Ichigo's pleasure and Matsumoto Rangiku's annoyance. She was in charge of the 10th division and the mountain of paperwork he left there for her. He had even gotten the 8th division's fukutaichou Ise Nanao to oversee that the reports got done and delivered. He would have to bring back a gift for Ise, and perhaps (her captain) for letting him borrow her. 

Toushiro was brought out of his musings by the low groggy voice of Ichigo, holding back a shiver at feeling the vibration of Ichigo talking underneath him. 

"Doesn't your hand ever cramp?" The teen asked, untangling an arm from the blanket to wrap around Toushiro's thin waist. "I mean, every time I see you, you're always writing."

"Sometimes. Usually when I'm starting Matsumoto's paperwork." The 10th taichou continued solving through puzzles.

"Hmm, is that so?" A yawn accented the end of his sentence, still trying to wake up properly. "How long was I asleep?"

The reply was almost automatic. "About 5 hours 34 minutes and 57 seconds."

Toushiro frowned in irritation when his boyfriend full out laughed. All the movement made it hard for the tiny taichou to write anything legible. Annoyed, he asked a sharp "what?" which got Ichigo to laugh even harder.

"You actually counted the time?" The orange haired teen wiped away tears from his eyes, mouth still twisted in a grin. "That's so sweet and cheesy of you Toushiro!"

"Shut up you moron, I did not count the time." He held up Ichigo's phone to show him the timer that Toushiro had stopped a few minutes ago when he noticed it. "You fell asleep on it and accidentally started it."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say Toushiro." The disbelief in his tone was almost palpable. 

"I liked you better when you were asleep." The taichou muttered, glaring at the unfinished puzzle he was working on when Ichigo awoke. 

"Aw, don't be like that Yuki-hime. You know I was just messing with you, right?"

"Precisely."

Ichigo pouted lightly, using his free arm to pull the tiny taichou down so that he was half laying. Tugging his other arm from under the blanket and Toushiro's weight, the teen hugged his boyfriend close, planting a kiss on the top of the snowy white locks. Ichigo always found it amazing how his lover smelled like fresh snow despite the scented soaps he borrows. He couldn't help himself, he took a deep breath of Toushiro's scent. 

With a yawn, Ichigo asked what time it was. "It's 7 already. Your family should be here soon."

"Hm, we're gonna have to turn the heater on then." 

Ichigo yawned, removing a hand to slip it under the couch in search for the little thermostats remote. Shifting slightly to the side, he found it and pointed it at the thermostat on the wall and raised the temperature. The AC kicked off and instead the heater started. Once that was done, the teen tossed the device onto the coffee table and went back to snuggling Toushiro.

"'M still cold." The carrot top muttered, burying his face into the taicho's neck. 

"And what do you want me to do about it?" Toushiro raised an eyebrow even though his boyfriend couldn't see it. 

"We have 30 minutes. Enough time for a quickie. That'll warm me up in no time." Ichigo pulled back his face to show off his grin. 

Annoyed and flustered, the white haired taichou scowled, hitting Ichigo on the side of the head.

"Ow! What was that fo-" 

"You moron!" Toushiro cut off. "Your family is coming over in a matter of minutes!" He hissed. "I'm not doing anything with you! If you want company use your hand in the bathroom!" His cheeks were a soft pink by the end.

"I'm kidding, Toushiro. I like seeing you blush." His response caused his boyfriend to mumble under his breath.

The taichou sat back up to continue his puzzle. Shaking his head Ichigo got comfortable and dozed off again. 

[inner-dreamscape]

Pink Skies

The early morning sky lightened up to pink as the sun slowly crawled its way up from the horizon.  The pink tint settled over Yokohama like a shroud, even managed to turn the cigarette smoke from Dazai’s mouth the same color. Chuuya was transfixed.

He sat as close as he could next to Dazai, dirtying their pants on the street curb outside the hospital. It wasn’t a cold morning, but it was cool enough to excuse huddling close to the other, sharing the cigarette. Well, it started off as sharing when Chuuya lit one up and Dazai gestured for a drag. Only, Chuuya never got it back and that alone clued him in what state of mind Dazai was in.

He was still hurting, scared. His long fingers, the one clutching the nearly stub was trembling minutely. He was still anxious and Chuuya couldn’t deny him the feeling. He leaned over more so their shoulders were touching.

“He’s going to be okay.” Chuuya whispered, feeling that the atmosphere around them required it. “You heard the doctors.”

“You saw how he looked. How he-” almost died. Dazai shut his mouth quickly. He couldn’t bring himself to say it, to bring it out into the air where it could still become a reality. Chuuya heard it anyways.

“I did. Hell, I still have his blood on me, but we got him help on time. Odasaku’s gonna make it. He’s strong like that.” Chuuya gently pulled the burnt up cigarette from slack fingers, squashing it on the street between them.

“That guy.” Dazai started, finally turning away from staring in front of him to look at Chuuya. “I want that guy.” He said.

Chuuya didn’t have to ask what guy he meant. With that cold look in Dazai’s eyes, he knew he wanted the drunk driver that swerved into Oda’s car. Chuuya searched all over Dazai’s face, picking out his thoughts. Humming, he reached into his back pocket for his cigarettes and light. He tapped one out into his mouth and had it lit in no time. Relishing the warm smoke that filled his lungs, he blew the smoke in front of them.

“You shouldn’t worry about that.” ‘You shouldn’t be wanting something like that anymore.’ “You should worry about helping Oda when he wakes up. Four-eyes may be smart, but he’s an idiot when it comes to turning down Oda. You know he’s going to ask for curry.” He offered the lit cig to Dazai. “As well as the kids. You know how Kunikida-san gets when he spends more than 4 hours watching them.”

Dazai glared but Chuuya ignored it, silently offering the cigarette again. They remained like this for a long while, ash falling into a small pile on the curb. Finally, Dazai accepted it and the silent proposal it carried, taking a large drag from it.

Settled, Chuuya leaned back, bracing himself on his hands and lulling his head back to stare at the sky.

It was now blue.

Also posted on AO3

Part Two

[inner-dreamscape]

“If you don’t quite bringing enchanted objects into the house I’m going to evict you. This was in our contract!”

Dazai blinked innocently, tilting his head to the side as he gazed up at Chuuya. “But Chuuya, this isn’t enchanted.”

“Bullshit, you waste of bandages, I can feel its magic!” Chuuya growled, seriously thinking of forgetting their contract and killing the man then and there.

“It’s cursed~<3” Dazai beamed, thrusting the object into Chuuya’s face who swatted his hands away.

“And that makes it better? It’s worse!” He knew he should have spent those few extra minutes extending the conditions out in further detail. Leave it to Dazai to use technicality as a loophole. Unfortunately, it was Chuuya’s fault for putting too much faith into Dazai obeying the contract.

“Ah, but Chibi never said anything about cursed objects so it’s okay!”

“Get it out Dazai! Cursed objects fall under enchantments, don’t get smart with me!”

“Whaaah! It’s not my fault Chuuya’s so dumb!”

[inner-dreamscape]

Chuuya sighed in the quiet of his office, brush still moving swiftly over a page.

“Dazai?” His guest asked.

“Dazai.” Chuuya confirmed.

Softly, the noise of commotion filtered into the peaceful room through the open shoji screen doors that led into a small Zen garden. He couldn’t feel any foreign reiatsu amongst his no doubt panicking subordinates, but that only further proved that the intruder was, in fact, Dazai. That shitty bastard just loves to put his subordinates into chaos while simultaneously making more work for Chuuya to do when he was already swamped as it is.

For the last 4 months, Chuuya’s been taking care of his own paperwork as well as the 2nd division’s load. Kouyou-ane-san had taken on an important mission that required both her and her vice-captain, leaving the division in Chuuya’s hands. Usually, the duty would pass onto the 3rd seat, but there hasn’t been a third seat in division two in years. So, as someone who has worked closely with Kouyou and practically knew the ins and outs from his time under her tutelage, naturaly the responsibility fell to him.

He had already finished the paperwork for Kouyou that morning and is now working on his own daunting pile when he received a surprise visit. Chuuya found it a blessing when his former vice captain dropped by on his day off. For the last 5 hours, they’ve been steadily working through the mountain of papers that have accumulated on Chuuya’s and his empty vice captain’s desk. At the 4 hour mark, his former vice captain, now a 3rd seat in division 7, decided to take a break and catch a nap on the comfy sofa in the office.

Chuuya didn’t blame him; he would be on the other couch trying for a nap too if it wasn’t for a captain’s meeting happening that evening. He wanted to finish as much reports as possible before more came flooding in.

Of course nothing seems to go Chuuya’s way when the 9th division’s captain is involved. Chuuya fucking hates it that 9th and 10th divisions are right next to each other. Dazai has a bad fucking habit of annoying him right when he needed to concentrate the most. Now was no exception.

“Not to sound rude, but this is probably your fault that, that waste of bandages is causing heart attacks in my subordinates.”

His former lieutenant hummed.

“Yeah. You’re probably right. Sorry.”

Chuuya glanced at the back of the couch, unable to see his guest lying down. He scowled. He should probably rearrange the couches.

“I sort of figured you were when you offered to help me with my paperwork. Knew it was too good to be true.” Chuuya continued going over the paper in the hands. “What does he want now?”

“Honestly don’t know. Just sent me a message to be here.”

Chuuya snorted.

They remained quiet once again.

In the silence, the opening of the shoji door to Chuuya’s office was easily heard. A body slipped in, closing the door gently as a few panicked voices ran by. The intruder muffled his giggles when the voices continued on, searching for the person who they knew went this way.

“Leave my subordinates alone, shitty mackerel.” Chuuya intoned, eyes never straying from his work.

“But Chuuuyaaa! How will they ever learn?” Dazai whined, pouting to being scolded.

“They’re new trainee’s, they’ll get there when I teach them properly.”

“But that’s no fun~!”

“S’not supposed to be, you bandage wasting device.”

“It’s probably because you’re so short and angry all the time.”

The brush in Chuuya’s hand cracked and splintered from his tight grip. He was trying not to lose it. he really needed to finish those reports and he only had one extra brush left. He broke all the others the last time Dazai showed his face in Chuuya’s office and Captain Kunikida only allowed so many extra brushes…

“Leave him alone Dazai, unless you’re willing to offer Kunikda a hand in work in exchange for new brushes you keep making Chuuya break.”

“But Odasaku~! It’s so much fun teasing the little hat rack!” He expertly dodged the mangled brush thrown at his head.

Oda sighed. His nap was officially over.

He sat up on the couch, not paying Dazai any mind as he dove into the newly vacated spot. Oda busied himself in making them all tea as Chuuya tried to calm down.

“What do you want Dazai?”

“Chibi needs to relax more. How do you expect to grow if you don’t get proper rest?”

Chuuya ignored the jab at his height.

“You need to fuck off.”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” Dazai stared at the petite captain, smirk curling over his lips. It only turned into a grin at Oda’s quiet cough of surprise at the implication.

“Shirk your duties and annoy me.” Chuuya promptly answered because when was Dazai not?

“Well…” the grin faltered because that was a big part of his reason.