#chuuya? it's mostly harmless but like

[hopesprung]

a point of interest for those looking to interact with dazai: he has a twisted spirit and is pretty much always plotting something. though there are a few exceptions, generally speaking, if he can torment you ( and have fun doing it ), he will. whether it’s harmless or not depends on who you are to him.

[inamagicalhallucination]

pm atsushi but he uses the transfer as an excuse to fuck with the organization that technically hunted them down in a mostly harmless way like

atsushi, staring at chuuya:

chuuya, weirded out: what

atsushi, grinning brightly: dazai-san was right! you are really kind!!!

chuuya:

chuuya: wh- aklsdfj what askjdfsjdf mackerfjaksdfj

atsushi, evil grin:

/

atsushi: i dont know... i just think tachihara is kinda really always around akutagawa

higuchi: no way... don't tell me you think he's in love with him!!!

atsushi: i mean i cant say for sure...

higuchi, fired up: i have competition now! i will prove to akutagawa-senpai i know him best!!

*later*

atsushi, to tachihara: higuchi's been weirdly following you around recently, hasnt she?

tachihara: yeah i noticed that too- wait... don't tell me... no, she likes akutagawa... but i mean then again

*later*

atsushi: gin-

gin: don't bother i already know what youre doing

atsushi: aw

//

atsushi: so why can't you make this orange into a bomb?

kajii: for the LAST TIME MY POWER IS LEMON BOMBS

atsushi: it's practically the same thing-

kajii: IN WHICH WORLD??

/

akutagawa: i think... i am having a nice day toda-

atsushi, body slamming into him:

/

yeah

[sweet-roulette]

・❥・More Kotoko facts!・❥・

・❥・ Her jacket is an altered version of Riki’s: After Riki died, she kinda stole his leather jacket and then had it altered to fit her style. She also basically stole his whole style, saying it’s to “keep his memory alive” or “I did it better.”

・❥・ Collector of odd trinkets: Kotoko has a knack for finding the weirdest little objects during her travels — old keys, tiny glass bottles, bizarre coins — and she keeps them in a small box in her room. She claims each one has “some secret, mysterious power,” though most of them are probably just junk.

・❥・ Always wins rock-paper-scissors: Kotoko has an uncanny talent for winning rock-paper-scissors, to the point where people start thinking she has some secret strategy. When asked, she just says, “I always know what you’re going to pick. It’s my sixth sense.” This drives Shinyu nuts. Keep in mind Shinyu’s ability literally could let him win any and every game of chance. Wether he’s purposely not using his ability or not is unknown...

・❥・ Keeps a journal but pretends it’s tactical notes: Kotoko actually writes in a personal journal every day, filling it with her thoughts, feelings, and silly moments. But if anyone asks what she’s writing, she’ll lie and say it’s “a record of her strategies and brilliant ideas.”

・❥・ Is always ‘right’ even when she’s wrong: Kotoko is never wrong. At least, that’s what she’ll tell you. Even when she’s clearly mistaken about something, she’ll twist her logic to make it seem like she was right all along. Her quick-thinking turns every argument into a confusing maze of half-truths until people just give up.

・❥・ Has an arsenal of ridiculous threats: Instead of getting truly angry, Kotoko likes to threaten people with the most absurd consequences, like “I’ll fill your shoes with jelly” or “I’ll replace all your shampoo with mayonnaise.” These threats are mostly in good fun, but her delivery is so deadpan that people can’t help but wonder if she’d actually do it.

・❥・ Has a habit of “copying” people’s personalities: If she’s around someone for too long she’ll start picking up some of their personality. For example, Chuuya’s her teacher/older brother figure so she’s around him a lot, as a result, she’s picked up his sharp tongue. Poor Shinyu is the receiver of some sharp tongued cursing respond whenever he does something to annoy her.

・❥・ An expert at “innocent” pranks: Kotoko loves pulling pranks that are so harmless and subtle, people don’t realize they’ve been pranked until much later. She’ll rearrange things on people’s desks by just a few inches or swap out someone’s pen for a slightly different one, watching them get confused without ever suspecting her. Seiun taught her.

・❥・ Obsessed with random trivia: Kotoko randomly spouts obscure trivia facts at the strangest times. During a serious mafia mission, she might casually say something like, “Did you know octopuses have three hearts?” She acts like it’s totally relevant to the situation, leaving her teammates bewildered.

・❥・ Speaks in third person when teasing: When Kotoko is teasing someone, she sometimes starts referring to herself in the third person, like she’s narrating her own life. “Oh, look, Kotoko is clearly superior again. Shinyu could never hope to match her genius.”

・❥・ Pretends she doesn’t care about compliments: Kotoko will act like compliments mean nothing to her, waving them off casually. But as soon as no one’s looking, she’ll smile to herself or blush a little, despite trying to maintain her aloof persona.

・❥・ Always gives people terrible nicknames: Kotoko loves giving out awful, sometimes absurdly long nicknames for her friends. She might call Shinyu “The Unlucky Gambler of Doom” or Chuuya’s nickname, “Walking Mannequin.” She insists the nicknames are a sign of affection, even when they make no sense. 

・❥・ Annoying alarm clock app voice: Kotoko customizes all her alarms with her own voice, recorded to sound incredibly annoying on purpose. She’ll wake up to her own sarcastic voice saying, “Hey, rise and shine, you lazy slug. Don’t tell me you’re actually still in bed.”

・❥・ Struggles with basic modern slang: Kotoko tries to stay on top of modern slang, but she often gets it just slightly wrong. She’ll say things like, “That’s, um, very… yeet?” and then look around to see if anyone caught the fact that she clearly has no idea what it means.

・❥・ Uses her ability for petty revenge: If someone slightly annoys Kotoko, she’ll activate her ability in the most petty way possible, like making them think they’re in the middle of a high-stakes decision just to watch them panic for a few seconds. She never lets it go too far, though—it’s all in good fun (mostly).

・❥・ Takes bets on mission outcomes: Whenever the Port Mafia has an important mission, Kotoko takes secret bets among her colleagues on the outcome. She’ll casually start asking, “How long do you think it’ll take us to find the target?” or “Think this guy will try to run, or will he fight?” Even in high-stakes situations, she keeps her playful nature intact by turning everything into a gamble.

・❥・ Enjoys messing with newcomers: Kotoko takes great pleasure in messing with new recruits, acting as though she’s their mentor and feeding them completely made-up stories about mafia traditions or “rules.” She’ll tell them things like, “It’s customary to give the boss a cookie every time you pass him in the hallway,” and then watch with glee as they try to figure out whether she’s serious. She did this when she was a member of the ADA too. 

・❥・ Teases her targets before finishing them off: Kotoko has a habit of toying with her targets during missions, especially when she’s been given the task of eliminating someone. She’ll engage them in conversation, make snarky comments, or even challenge them to a quick game before dealing the final blow. It’s all part of her twisted sense of fun, making her feared as both unpredictable and deadly.

・❥・ Challenges authority but never crosses the line: Kotoko constantly pushes the boundaries of what’s acceptable, challenging orders or adding her own spin to them, but she knows just how far she can go. While she might argue with Mori or even Fyodor, she’s smart enough to never push them to the point where there are real consequences.

・❥・ Fan of the mafia’s dark humor: Kotoko thrives in the Port Mafia’s dark humor, often making light of morbid situations with a smirk. She might walk into a room and say, “Smells like death in here. Oh wait, it’s just me,” before proceeding to act like nothing is out of the ordinary. Or when she walks into a room full of people who she’s about to oneshot, she’ll be like “Smells like dead people in here. You don’t smell it? Oh, well, it’s about to.”

・❥・ Has a playlist of over 2000 songs, and then a LOT of other playlists specifically for “vibes”. One of her playlists is called “Songs to kill someone too” and another is “Feeling queencard”. She’s a secret kpop fan and has spent A LOT of money on albums. No one can tell me otherwise.

@happy--prince SOS I THINK I WROTE TOO MANY THIS TIME 😭😭

[growling]

Bungo stray dogs but they're actually dogs. Sigma is a Borzoi

i could see that actually however- to me, as my third pet freak (the others being francis and mushi) i also see him as one of those tormented wolfdog hybrids with several behavioral issues and a certain misery and profound emptiness in their eyes neither able to belong as a pet nor in the wild. how fucked up would a borzoi and wolf hybrid be actually i don't want to find out

some other dogs as dogs: (i don't know many dog breeds in depth im not a very dog kind of guy)

Fukuzawa is a huge, retired & traumatized former military belgian malinois that is mostly apathetic to every other dog and sometimes stares out thoughtfully into space and lets out the world's longest sigh for no reason, but he REALLY loves cats. which are however mostly apathetic to him

Atsushi is not a dog he is a tiger!! NYAR!!!!!11!!1

Kyouka is a previously abused puppy that has lost the ability to feel safe around people after the horrors but with enough time and care you can help her recover her trust and joy and discover she actually prefers your cat over you

Akutagawa wants you to love him and he will turn to destructive behaviour if he ever thinks you're abandoning him again (going to work in the morning) he has brutally mauled every single mailman they sent out to your house until they just kinda stopped coming

Kajii is some sort of greyhound. Good lord. That is all

Jouno is a shiba inu that finds great amusement in the suffering of poor people but you don't know that because dogs don't talk about their feelings. has really passionate beef with the neighbourhood dog and it took like ten entire people to pull them off of each other once

Gin is not your dog she's somebody else's dog. doesn't really care about you

Mushitaro is that 1000000 fucking dollar expensive rare breed one of those fluffy nearly shaped like a perfect orb ankle-biter yappers with nothing behind its void-black eyes that's just shivering with hatred every waking second of it's life. the high maintenance as fuck kind that's gonna start screaming and pissing and tearing the paint off your walls and fucking dying if you don't give it exclusive pure $60,000 Acqua di Cristallo Tributo a Modigliani water to drink and a cleansing bubble saltwater bath every single day. he doesn't actually need those but he is trying to convince them that he does and it's working because the kind of owner who would get this kind of weird fucking dog is either one or the other A) utterly fucking spineless and lets the hellhound do whatever with zero training because it's small and thus its anger is meaningless and utterly harmless or B) has a blast treating it like shit and continuously annoying it on purpose because it's small and thus its anger is meaningless and incredibly hilarious so they can make tic tac videos of them saying their dog is a demon while its having it's third panic attack of the day in the corner. i got off track. anyway they had to stop taking him out on a leash whenever they wanted to get on a plane and carry him around in one of those dog backpacks because the airport falcons were constantly mistaking him for some sort of rodent

Ranpo is a border collie

Kunikida is a well-trained border collie

Lovecraft is a bedlington terrier because they look fucking terrifying I don't know if and how that's a living breathing creature we created do not fucking google it jesus christ

Kyuusaku is a pug because they're constantly in pain from just being alive

Fyodor is a very big rat that barks but occassionally says something very ominous in fluent russian when nobody is around. he can also read. he's like remy ratatouille but fucked up and evil

Chuuya would fit as a human that is just utterly in love with every single one of the above listed as he's (semi)canonically a crazy dog person. However if not, he could be an afghan hound with his luscious fucking locks

other dog enjoyers feel free to add on

[daz4i]

coming here bc with ur dazai bdsm & control post i think u'll understand my point. i always feel weird when i read skk and specifically filter out "top dazai" because its like it shouldn't matter but it DOES end up mattering. i can't describe it but somehow it feels like whenever people write "top dazai" there's this level of extra control he has over their dynamic. again hard to explain my ick about it but it's feels like (to me) that skk aren't equal. does that make sense. there's always a layer of "dazai is Possessive and Controlling over chuuya" while chuuya's just along for the ride. meanwhile when people write a dominant chuuya its feels more balanced?? like they're both active in the relationship. (not saying top = dominant but we know how heteronormative society thinks of sex roles. everyone writes a top as dominant unless they specify otherwise nowadays :/) i think this stems from like. as readers we all Know that (adult) dazai is the smartest one in the room at any given time. we know he can manipulate and control the situation however he pleases if he wants to. that level of control isn't a given with chuuya. so when chuuya has this (superficial) control in their relationship it's like "sick! dazai trusts chuuya! dazai views chuuya as an equal!" which is what i'm always craving from their dynamic. (i also think i'm truamatized from prior fandoms and quick to think something is heteronormative. i can acknowledge where i'm being dramatic but some people out there really do just think of chuuya as a girl i'm sorry. stop making dazai your harry styles wattpad badboy that is NAWT MY MANS!)

oh anon i get you 🤝 (and i do the same tbh, it's quicker than trying to find fics that DON'T fall into the trope of top = dominant / bottom = submissive)

[also as a usual disclaimer when talking abt this topic that I'm sure you probably agree with; this is all talking abt a fictional couple and the way fics are written about them, speaking realistically they would probably switch but this discussion isn't for the sake of realism but rather talking about characterization through smut. we know it's not that deep, this is an observation for fun and bc it's interesting and harmless, and this isn't judging anyone who writes these fics or subscribes to a different characterization. okay now we can keep going]

the trust thing you point out is honestly the biggest thing here for me!!! like it's not even just dazai letting go of control, it's about letting chuuya take it, too. we see them do it time and time again in the context of battles and strategies and well. why wouldn't it extend to this area too, yknow? same way chuuya gets to have the final word in their plans - they're both involved in every step, but in the end it does hinge on chuuya and his choices. also unironically i think it'd be good for chuuya to get control over smth in his life in a less chaotic way than, say, he does as an executive.

and 😭 god i agree with that part abt people turning dazai into an edgy wattpad bf, esp when it comes to like his current canon self who is just a silly little princess whose entire arc is about trusting people and letting them take control of situations for him

and while I'm at it, i think he COULD be possessive but not in a dark yandere bf way or w/e, first of all he'll be more subtle about it lol, but mostly his possessiveness, to me, is more "no one can hurt those i love" (see: his anger when finding out fyodor is "controlling" chuuya. animezai dni) or "please don't leave me" than "you're mine, no one can touch you, you can't leave me" as people tend to fall into in those fics. does that make sense

[larathia]

This is my basic ‘Dazai translation’ guide.

* If he presents you with a longwinded, completely logical argument for something batshit that just happened - that’s a half truth. (Which is to say - yes, he probably did factor in all that...but it’s not the only reason shit went down exactly the way it did.)

* If he’s playing the clown, he’s straight up lying to you. The reasons may be harmless or they may be quite serious, but what you’re seeing is 0% fact.

* If he’s talking about suicide and there’s an actual means to do what he’s talking about right there, he is having an actual ‘my depression monsters are eating my brain’ Bad Day at that moment and his thinking is skewed.

* If he’s talking about suicide and an actual means to do what he’s talking about is not immediately present, he mostly just wants you to piss off/ignore him/stop talking.

* If it looks at first glance like he just tried (and failed) to die again, he did. Any and all logical explanations why “it’s not what it looks like” are at best half-truths. The primary goal of the explanation is to deflect the conversation away from concern about the attempt, his mental health, and himself in general. Any actions where you might find yourself thinking “yeah, but you couldn’t possibly have known for sure that xyz would happen to save your life” falls into this category.

* If he’s talking about double suicide with a woman, it’s a half-truth. (I’m pretty sure if she said yes he’d go with her - but I’m also pretty sure he’s well aware she’ll say no, and he’s got a secondary reason in play for when she does.)

* If he says he’s messing with you, he probably is - but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s also lying. That’s a separate check.

* If he says he’s lying...he actually isn’t. He’s just covering for saying something he regards as a bit too revealing, or something he’s just realized he doesn’t want to talk about. The more he makes such a statement look like ‘of course I was lying’, the more he really doesn’t want to discuss whatever it was.

* If he says, “I never lie in [situation that applies right now]”, this is both a sign that whatever he has just told you is 100 percent factual, and that you should go over it with a fine-toothed comb for whatever he’s left out. Dazai is truthful more often than many realize, but he is rarely honest. When he says shit like this, he may be on the level. He may just as easily be using the truth to deceive.

* Dazai will generally mess with anyone and everyone when the mood takes him, but 90 percent of the time it’s not actually going to hurt his target any, and any embarrassment will be minor and temporary. The other ten percent is divided equally between “gods, you’re just the eternal perfect target” (Kunikida) and “seriously, just disappear or die, I really don’t care which” aggravation (Chuuya). You can tell the difference between this last ten percent and everyone else in that the last ten percent can be shamed/embarrassed. Only if he’s truly Aggravated at you do the ‘pranks’ have a shot at doing genuine harm, however.

* Lastly, but possibly most importantly, all of these conditions can stack - that is, more than one of them can be in play at any given specific moment.

[threadmonster]

I wrote up a one-shot for the coffee shop AU because it was on my mind a lot. 

Port Café.

Chuuya had been working there since high school. He knew the owner, Mori, and his parents said if he wanted for anything, it was up to him to make it happen on his own. So, when Mori offered him the position, Chuuya took it.

It was a pretty good gig, really. Decent pay, flexible hours, the regulars were pretty okay too. Chuuya was content with his everyday life. It was rather peaceful. Until one day when that peace was broken by the past that he had long forgotten.

“Yo-ho,” a voice sang as a man entered the empty café, “Hey, barista, what’s today’s special?”

Chuuya choked on his words. Trying to get out, “Right now we’re promoting the cherry blossom latte.” But it was too difficult. The annoyance and memories that were brought back by this man’s aloof expression.

Dazai.

His middle school “rival.” The kid who would always stick his nose into Chuuya’s business and lay traps to get him in trouble. Back then Chuuya had assembled kids from his grade to become a “gang” called the Sheep. It was a silly and mostly harmless group meant for living out a youngster’s imagination. But it was serious for Chuuya and this Dazai kid from his class was always getting in the way and teasing him for his endeavors. When Chuuya moved away before high school he was relieved he’d never have to see the guy again.

But here he was. In Yokohama and at the Port Café of all places. Chuuya couldn’t be more relieved that he never bothered to wear his nametag. Recognizing Dazai was bad enough, but Dazai recognizing him would be so much worse. He’d have to acknowledge him, reminisce in the worst ways. But like this he’d just take the order, sabotage the drink, and the guy would think the establishment is terrible and never come back.

“Hm? Cherry blossom latte?” Dazai said thoughtfully, “That must be a city drink. We don’t have anything fancy like that in the countryside. If you recommend it, then I’ll give it a shot.”

“Right away then,” Chuuya used his fake customer service smile. It would be over soon.

“Here you are,” he handed the cup across the counter. He had used a pump (or two) too many on the syrup and over scalded the milk just a couple degrees as well. A too sweet drink that burns the tongue. That should be enough. Anyone would be dissatisfied and never return… right?

“Ah, thank you!” Dazai took the drink and immediately took a sip, testing the outcome. He smiled brightly and headed for the door, “You sure make a great dink! I’ll be around again!”

Chuuya slammed his fist to the counter. There was no way this was happening. Was that guy even human?

As promised, Dazai became a regular. Stopping in every other day (or at least most of the shifts Chuuya ended up working), but never at a consistent time. There was no way for him to alter his schedule to avoid Dazai.

The guy was insufferable. Always chatting, spilling out useless or senseless information. Chuuya figured he must have met the wrong guy and got beat up a lot in high school, somehow, he was worse than he remembered.

“Here,” Chuuya sighed, after a month he was wearing down, “Café latte.”

“Aha,” Dazai smiled, “Thanks as always!”

The usual wave of relief when Dazai got to the exit washed over him, but only for a moment before that relief was shattered,

“By the way, I’ll be out of town for a while. So, try not to miss me too much, okay? Chuuuuyyaa~”

Chuuya froze, if he had been holding something it would have dropped to the floor.

“Hm? Chuuya will be moving?” Dazai hummed a little, “How wonderful!”

“What’s that!” Chuuya snapped. Yeah, he’s happy not to ever see Dazai again too but it still got on his nerves.

“Oh, don’t worry! I’ll be just fine!” he teased, “But you should try not to miss me too much, aye, Chuuuuyyaa~”

He knew? Dazai knew. How long? This whole time? Was that why he was so insufferable? It is unknown how long Chuuya stood there before screaming in frustration.

The next week past and, as promised there was no signs of Dazai. It should have been a relief. And Chuuya was in fact relieved, the first couple days that is. Then the third and fourth came and somehow it was strange. Without Dazai’s (obnoxious) presence, it felt off. He definitely wasn’t planning on admitting to that. Even when his regulars asked if something was bothering him, Chuuya would just click his tongue, forcing thoughts of Dazai out of his head. Why would something be wrong, that annoying regular hasn’t been around in days.

“Yo-ho!” the door opened and a familiar voice rang into Chuuya’s head, “Hey there Chuuya~ hope you didn’t miss me too much!”

Chuuya glared, “And just how long have you known! Shitty Dazai!”

“Oh?” Dazai feigned surprise. “So you recognized me too? I’m so flattered! You must’ve not said anything so I would think you’re someone else and keep coming back~”

“What’s that!” Chuuya snapped, “As if I’d ever want to see your shitty face!”

“Aw, c’mon,” he whined, “You’re kidding right? Didn’t you just look happy to see me?”

What. Chuuya froze. There’s no way he looked happy. Not to see him. Still, he felt his face heat up, he was blaming it on his anger though. But he couldn’t quite deny that not everything about Dazai’s visits were that terrible.

Dazai chuckled, “Well, maybe I ought to come back a different day, when you’re not too conflicted.”

“Wait!” Chuuya called out when Dazai went for the door.

“Hm?” Dazai looked at him with a mischievous grin.

“…” something unintelligible came out of his mouth.

“What’s that?” Dazai put a hand to his ear, “You’ll have to speak up.”

“Let me buy you a coffee, okay!” Chuuya thought he might throw up. Where did this even come from, he wondered to himself.

“Oh, Chuuya!” Dazai exclaimed, “How forward! I had no idea you felt this way about me!”

“Don’t tease me! Shitty Dazai!”

Dazai sighed, amused. Before Chuuya realized, he was directly across the counter.

“I’ll let you buy me a coffee, Chuuya,” Dazai placed his and over his, “But then you let me buy you dinner some time.”

It was then that Chuuya’s brain reached its limit. Acknowledging these sudden feelings and acting on them. Feelings for Dazai. And for Dazai to stop teasing and say something straight to his face. It was a bit too much for such a short moment.

“…hey, Chuuya?” Dazai peered into Chuuya’s face, but he could tell the thoughts there were vacant.

He sighed and scribbled his number down on a napkin, leaving it in front of the blushing barista before heading out himself.

It was a couple minutes after Dazai left that Chuuya finally processed what had happened. He gripped the counter and shouted a profanity or two. How typical, shitty Dazai, making a fool of him. Once he calmed down and let out a breath, he noticed the napkin.

“Huh?” Chuuya picked it up, “His number?”

Bzzt bzzt!

His phone, breaking him from his daze, Chuuya checked his notifications.

“A message… from Dazai?” he looked at the text for just a moment before gripping his phone, “And just how’d you get my number, shitty Dazai!”

[miyochan]

hiii its been a while teehee so i was wondering if you can do some headcannons with chuuya, akutagawa and mori when they fall inlove/took interest in a girl but they work at the ADA?? thank you!! hope you enjoy writing this one!!

Hey lovely! Its so nice to see you again. I'm sry for the part with aku. I hope you still like them and that you request something again!❤

🍷Chuuya🍷

🖤so you didnt had a ability and worked at the ada as assistent

🖤you mostly did paperwork or had some talk with custumers

🖤but sometimes you did go with the other members to deliver some stuff

🖤just like you did that day

🖤you were with dazai and atsuhsi on your way to some people who needed help and your were there to note everything down

🖤what you didnt expected was that some people were attacking you and under them was a redhead

🖤he seemed to know dazai and they talked back and forth while atsushi was protecting you

🖤that was until sushi was slamed against a wall a few meters away from you and hell were you scared

🖤some guys came and grabbed you and took you of

🖤to your luck you actually had a teaser and used them on the guy so that he did let go of you and you could run and hide

🖤you didnt expected to found the man with the hat in a alley bleeding heavely

🖤looks like the others did come too from the ada and could actually hurt him

🖤he started sreaming some mean stuff at you but you didnt care and walked slowly to him and kneeld down beside you

🖤"what the hell go away from me you-"

🖤"hold still! If I wont treat it you might die!"

🖤suprisingly he hold still and you but some bandages around his wound

🖤you always had  stuff like this with you

🖤he didnt say anything and didnt winced one time in pain

🖤he just let you do your thing

🖤but you did talk to him about everything that came in your head and also about your love to wine

🖤that was when he started to talk with you too and even after you were done you both talked about about wine

🖤after some time you got a message if you are okay and went back

🖤you didnt now how but he found out your number and you both started texting and talking more often

🖤you even meet up and drunk some wine

🖤you slowly did realised that you really like him and before you could think about it he asked you out

🖤so you both were in a sceret relationship

🖤only dazai and ranpo did find out but didnt say something about you

🖤you both never talked about work or anything that had something to do about that

🖤(you did talk about dazai because it was funny to make fun of the sucide guy)

🖤the relationship was complicated but it dir work and the time you spend together was perfect and happy

🖤you didnt go with on mission you was knowing he was there and the same was for him

🖤in conclusion it did work and you both made eachothers life better

🖤(even if you sometimes asked eachothers if they want to switch sides ups)

🔪Mori🔪

🖤you didnt drirectly worked at the ada

🖤you were their infromant

🖤you always did a good job and your way to get information was always trough flirting

🖤it always worked

🖤you were really pretty and did now your way with words and your body language to get what you wanted

🖤you never really had much to do with the mafia

🖤the informations you should get were always about smaller gangs or rich dirty people

🖤so you didnt trought much when a man asked you if you saw his daughter

🖤you were a bit confused but he seemed so helpless that you decided to help him

🖤so you both went searching for a few hours and talked about stuff while doing that

🖤nothing to private from both of your sides

🖤when you finally found the girl it was allready night and you just wanted to go home even if you had to say you enjoyed the talk with the stranger

🖤well some people from a gang came towards you all with knives and they sayd something along the line that they want money

🖤you both let out a sigh and before the guys could say another word they did fall to the floor

🖤you just stared at the man who killed them all with a simpel scalpel in confusion

🖤he only smiled at you and that was when it click

🖤"Only a harmless doctor I see.."

🖤"If course, thank you for the help for my dear elise."

🖤you just nooded and went your way

🖤of course mori did find out everything about you he could and he was suprised that you worked with the ada

🖤he was a bit disappointed because your company was really nice and you could also fight

🖤so he did contact you again and just showed of in front of you

🖤of course by the time now you were knowing who this man wars and you have to say it did suprise you a bit

🖤netherless he wanted you to work for the mafia and of course he decelined at first

🖤until he told you the money your would earn

🖤so you did quit all you conevtions to the ada and went to the port

🖤mori often called you in his office just to talk with you about random stuff and sometimes deeper meanings

🖤you found yourself smiling more often around him and he did the same too

🖤so you both just decided you were dating from now on

🖤you really liked the people in the mafia and elise

🖤when you saw the ada you just ignored them but you also never told anyone their secrets not even mori

🖤after all you were still a infromant

🖤it was just now that you worked with the mafia and dated their leader

👻Akutagawa👻

🖤sorry but I have no idea how this should work

🖤the moment he saw you with the ada you had rashomon on you

🖤there would'nt be any way how to get to know you any better

🖤i'm so sorry but I really have no idea

🖤maybe if you both would know eachother before you work at the ada

🖤but the moment you tell him that you want to work for the ada you are death for him

🖤sorry

I hope you liked them. If you found any errors in my grammar, you are welcome to correct me!❤

[sweet-cynical-writer]

Hellooo🌸 fyodor, dazai and chuuya having a s/o who is the definition of cute? Whenever someone see her they go "wow! You are so cute, can we do something togehter?"💖 People just adore her for that. She could just breath and someone would stare with lovely eyes at her.😳

Pfft.. Anon this is so damn fluffy I'm not exactly sure if I could accommodate but I'll surely give it my best~

Fyodor, Dazai, & Chuuya with the cutest s/o

The occasion on which Fyodor would let his darling go out he knew many would flock around her. But he was prepared for that. Since he couldn't exactly be with her twenty four seven due to his personal matters, he made sure trusted members that worked under him would see to it that she was not touched.

Most of the time it would be Sigma who would accompany her since he seemed to deal with it a lot better than Nikolai. The clown had an issue with.. well he just drew too much attention to say the least. Sigma would kindly ask them to lay off and that she was with him.

They were all mostly harmless. Most of the people would just ask for a picture or to let them draw/paint her. She was just so cute looking! All she had to do was do a simple motion like blink or even make a small gesture and it was the cutest thing they've ever seen.

A sweet s/o and she's the most adorable woman alive? He would never let her out of his sight. Sometimes she would be a little mischievous and run off to mess with him teasingly. She knew that many people found her so cute they would do anything for her.

"Of course I'll let you take a picture of me!" She would giggle and the family would absolutely melt as they took out their camera to take a picture. Their daughter posing with her and Dazai was racing around the corner to catch up with his sweetheart.

"You left without me again?!?! How cruel~ I'm your doting boyfriend after all~!" She would laugh at his reaction then pout cutely. "I got excited about our date, love.. I'm sorry I went ahead~" How could he even bring himself to be mad towards you? The family even scolded him for trying to get upset with her.

He had a feeling you would get a lot of attention but not like this. So many people, men and women alike telling you how cute you were. "What a precious girl! I would just love to draw you sometime please?!" Chuuya gave a glare to the person and they shrank down in fear. She would hold Chuuya's hand to comfort him and politely decline their offer.

Chuuya was a bit over protective but he couldn't help himself. He adored her so much he wasn't thrilled at having so many people surround you. Still, eventually he got used to it and embraced it a little more. Especially when he was involved in the praise.

"Oh my, look at that wonderful couple! Is there anyway we could.. maybe go on a double date for dinner? You two just look so lovely to be around." She would look at Chuuya pleadingly. Her puppy dog eyes were even irresistible that the other couple couldn't stop themselves from letting out an audible, "Aww!" He wasn't going to tell her no. She was so darling, so amazingly cute, of course he told her yes.

[midnight-strays]

Hello! Could I please request head cannons for young Dazai, Chuuya, akutagawa and anyone else you like not knowing what menstruation is and while on a mission with their S/O they get separated and find them in an ally, doubled over in pain and bleeding. -sorry that it's weird

//Not weird at all my love! I think I went a lil over board though haha.

Osamu Dazai

It happened when you and Dazai were about 16 years old.

Dazai was struggling with Chuuya’s mere existence in the Port Mafia and he was almost completely swamped with world lately.

Usually he’d try dodge the work but you had forced him to remain in his office and finish a sufficient amount before he was allowed to come back out.

During the few days this took, you were supposed to have your period... only it was late.

Cue mini heart attack because you and your boyfriend were very much sexually active, not to mention, you didn’t like playing it safe all the time, sooooo...

A few days later, you still had yet to see any signs but you were beginning to experience cramps, so that was a potentially good sign.

You weren’t completely panicked about the lateness of course. You knew this stuff happened at times and with your lifestyle, no shit it would happen.

That night however, you had just gotten into the shower when your phone started ringing.

You reached out of the shower and answered the call, putting them on speaker.

As you listened to what they had to say, you washed away the dirt and grime on your body while keeping you eyes on the small device.

“I’ll be right there sir. Do not engage the target until I get there. Am I understood?”

During this, you neglected to notice the red tinted water swirling down the drain until it was gone.

Still confident that you were fine, you popped a painkiller for good measure and got dressed, rushing to the scene where you were needed.

From there, things had become chaotic.

Bullets were flying and you were barking orders while Dazai worked on things from the other end. It was supposed to have been a quick engagement, take out some guards, get the info and leave. Only things took a dangerous turn when ten guards turned into fifty and you were severely out numbered.

The dust settled and most of the Port Mafia was still standing. Dazai came out, chucking a driveto someone before looking around for you. Where were you?

“Where is (Y/N)?”

When no one gave him an answer, he looked around again.

You weren’t amongst the bodies so you had to be there somewhere. So he searched.

He almost walked past you, right part you had it not been for a low groan passing your lips that he craved for oh so often.

During the battle, despite the pills you had taken earlier, you had felt a sharp, unholy pain in your abdomen.

You ignored it at first, but it became all that more fierce the longer you pretended it wasn’t happening and eventually, you had to duck away into an alleyway, where you proceeded to throw up your dinner from the pain.

After that you remained curled up on the ground, in a somewhat crouched position, waiting for the chance to finally stand up and get back out there. That moment didn’t come soon enough it seems.

When Dazai saw you curled up like that, he thought for sure that you had been shot. He came to your side, setting a hand on your back.

“(Y/N)? Have you been shot?” He asked, trying to encourage you to sit up so he could see.

That’s when the strong smell of iron hit him.

“You’re bleeding. Where? Show me damnit.”

You refused to uncurl now, more so from embarrassment than pain now. There was no way out of this situation was there?

You shook your head no and carefully uncurled, standing up but keeping your thighs firmly together.

“I wasn’t shot. Let’s just go.”

You started to head towards the end of the alleyway but another wave of pain sent you crouching down again.

This time, despite the shitty lighting, Dazai could see the darker patch of black on your pants and he stepped forward again, grabbing you by the arm, pulling you back up.

“Tell me what haopened. We need to get you help.”

He’d insist that he carry you back and get you help but you kept refusing, frustrating him to the point where he’d try to grab you anyway but you would duck away.

“I’m on my period idiot! That’s why I’m bleeding, now back off,” you’d finally hiss in annoyance.

There would be a moment of awkward silence. On your part because this was embarrassing and on his part because he was trying to remember what a period was.

When his mouth parted in an ‘oh’ fashion, you knew he finally got it.

You couldn’t blame him for not knowing what a period was. He was a young boy, surrounded mostly by men, with a very different upbringing than most other boys.

Like a switch though, he was from serious to his usual, silly self.

“Oh, ew, right. Let’s get back then shall we?”

He was still a little panicked inside because he didn’t completely understand but was better once he saw you again later in a much better condition.

Cue a few days passing and his curiousity getting the better of him.

“Hey Boss... What’s a period?”

Chuuya Nakahara

How was such a terrifying experience turned into an incredibly embarrassing one you ask? Well, let me tell you.

To start, you had no idea what Chuuya did in his spare time. You knew he had friends as they constantly came by to drag him away to do whatever. They wore matching arm bands too su=o surely that meant something to him.

One day the band was gone though and he suddenly didn’t have as much time as before.

He told you that his mother had caught him skipping school so she was now him schooling him to make sure he got somewhere in life.

That being said, you had no reason to question him.

The important thing in the end, was that he still managed to make time for you.

After school, you’d walk out and there he would be, leaning again the main gates, waiting for you.

Your friends constantly complained about how they wanted such a committed boyfriend and it made you feel great.

Today was a weekend however, meaning he was going to be picking you up from your house instead.

You were a little unsure about this weekend, considering you were on your period but you’d never had any problems before so you went for it.

You styled your hair and slipped on a nice white dress- mistake number one- before saying bye to your guardian and headed out to meet Chuuya out the front.

Today he was taking you to a small cafe, a harmless little plac that allowed the two of you to have the kind of date you’d been lacking the last few weeks.

You both ordered your drinks and something to eat, bouncing back and forth in conversation between each other happily.

Early on during the date, he also made it Lear that he was going to pay for everything- which led you to wonder where he was getting the money from. Did he find a part time job? That would explain why he had less time to come out.

Everything was going smoothly until something small wizzed past, right between the two of you, embedding itself in the wall on the other side of you.

You looked at it with wide eyes while Chuuya was jumping over the table, pushing you down to the floor yelling, “Get down!”

Just on time, a barrage of bullets came flying in your direction.

With little shelter from the attach, Chuuya shielded your body from the bullet.

“You need to move with me.”

Despite your fear, you ended up running with him, trying to stay down as much as possible while he protected you.

Eventually shoving you into an alleyway, you discovered how Chuuya wasn’t dead yet. He had an ability. He sent to bullets flying back to where they came from.

He gave you a very brief order to stay put before running off, much to your dismay.

You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, but it was long enough for crippling cramps to disturb the tiny amount of peace you had left.

Curling in on yourself nice and tight to try will away the pain, you didn’t notice it was all over until you heard Chuuya’s voice again.

“Hey, are you okay (Y/N)?”

You looked up at him with teary eyes but still heals yourself tightly. You didn’t know what to say to him. How do you answer that after what just happened?

He looked you over himself and at first, he thought you were okay until he saw the red on your dress. That wasn’t there before...

“You’re bleeding!”

Eyes widening, you jumped up and pressed yourself against the wall to hide it the best you could. It hurt to stand but you didn’t want to go through this right now.

“No I’m not Chuuya. I’m fine. I’d like to go home now if that’s okay...”

You were too in shock to actually process the fact that people were just trying to kill you both. Or just him?

“No, you’re bleeding, I saw the blood on your dress. Just let me see.”

“Don’t come any closer Chuuya!”

He would step back a little in shock at your outburst. He couldn’t blame you really.

Seeing he needed an explaination, you sucked in a deep breath and told him without making eye contact.

“I’m on my period.’

“... What the fuck is that?”

Cue your jaw dropping to the ground in disbelief.

Seriously?

“Really?

Some of those old friends of his were women!

He has a mother! Or does he...

“Just give me your jacket and take me home.”

Ryuunosuke Akutagawa

Periods weren’t completely foreign to Akutagawa. He has a younger sister after all.

However, this doesn’t mean he’s comfortable with it by any means.

He’ll help his sister if need be but if she doesn’t need help, he doesn’t want to know about it.

Same goes for you.

He’ll give you a hand with something if you really need it but he doesn’t want to know you’re on it.

That being said, he had no idea you were on your period when you were out on a mission.

As embarrassing as it was, you were actually on a pan/tampon run when you got called in.

With nothing but toilet paper protecting your clothes from your current unholy condition, you rushed to the scene.

It was supposed to be your day off too, so you were in much brighter clothes than usual, instead of the dark clothing you would usually wear in association with the Port Mafia.

You and Akutagawa were side by side, working together as much as you could to do what had to be done.

The building you were in was a completely maze, so, you split up.

It was as you were searching, that you encountered your tasrget’s thugs.

Bullets were flying, bouncing off the walls and making a hell of a noise that echoes throughout the place.

Despite the dull ache in your absorbent, you did all you could to fend them off.

When all were on the ground, you clutched your mid-section and dropped to the floor in pain, letting out a small whine of pain.

You were well out of your comfort zone. Your period, wrong clothing, very little to protect your clothing from your own blood... This wasn’t ideal.

You then heard the click of a gun, the barrel being pressed to your head. One of the men had been faking defeat.

Eyes wide and seeing no escape, you braced yourself for the worst, only for nothing to happen a moment later.

Looking up, you saw the man hanging in the air, a black tendril impaling his chest with an almost red electricity buzzing around it.

“Rashomon...”

The man dropped to the ground as the young man behind you let out a few small coughs.

“Have you been shot?”

“No.”

“Then why are you bleeding?”

The two of you would have realised it at the same time. You’re would have jumped to you feet and turned around the hide the stain on your pants and his face would be turning red.

“Just go home.”

“Akutagawa, you know I can’t do that.”

“I said go home. I’ve got this- take care of... that.”

Despite his insistence though... you weren’t allowed to just leave like that, meaning the air was thick with awkward tension for a good while.

At least you could both say you suddenly became more determined to finish the mission faster,

[linklethehistorian]

Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 42/???)

Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (21/?)

I suspect that many people are likely to want to argue here that the anime’s chosen starting point was nothing less than a ‘sensible’ one, given that so many people seem to subscribe to the belief that the other part was somehow ‘unnecessary’ or filler content, but I’m afraid I have to protest this supposed fact; indeed, even if someone as important and well-respected within the BSD community as Lea herself has come to think with time that perhaps this information wasn’t important to keep, I still have to respectfully but vehemently disagree with that sentiment in every way, because it is absolutely not just a throwaway conversation included for the reader’s amusement or even solely important to the proper establishment of Sheep as an organization.

Yes, it certainly fulfills those purposes as well, but every part of this scene — from its absolute, true beginning to its eventual end — is also incredibly rich in crucial characterization and plot points for not just one, not just two or three, but four major characters in this book, even if we completely disregard how it effects Sheep itself entirely.

On Dazai's Skin-Deep Kindness & Playfulness, and His True Views

In Dazai’s case, these events play an invaluable role in defining his current views and attitude at this age, which — despite any previous remarks I may have made about them not always being that necessary to show in Fifteen as a whole, due to the fact that he already has more than enough canon character-establishing material centered around him as it is — in this one particular moment, is actually desperately needed to make the story work as it was intended to and have its full impact.

While it may have been mostly harmless, in my opinion, to tone down some of his childishness and playful inclinations throughout much of the rest of the adaption and swap it out for a Dark Era-esque version of him to properly represent his inner thoughts and feelings in a more explicit way, this is one instance where doing so will absolutely devastate everything that truly matters about the plot and its characters, and that is exactly what Bones did once they got their hands on it — and exactly what they wanted to do, for that matter.

You see, in taking out the entire conversation about the party that happened between Dazai and Randou at the beginning of the phase and the discussion of the “theory of the half-grilled meat” that followed thereafter, Osamu is instantly scrubbed clean of all of the most damning parts of his personality that are present here, as well as the full reality of his heartless nature — and the same applies to the changes made to the dialogue in his inevitable confrontation and naming of the culprit, too.

Without any of the context of the preceding talk, the revelation that Dazai has set up some elaborate party for Chuuya to celebrate his newfound freedom seems especially kind and sweet of a gesture for someone who claims to despise the redhead; combine this with the altered dialogue in the adaption’s arcade scene that now portrays Dazai as having defended him and even expressed extreme disgust and resentment towards Sheep for using him, and you’ve got the ultimate falsified and doctored recipe for setting the stage to make the young bandage-wearing man look like the perfect white knight for his reluctant partner in crime.

However, if one were to truly take a step back and view the source material’s version of all of this, that illusion would quickly shatter and fall apart at the seams, as not only would it become abundantly clear that Dazai never seriously came to Chuuya’s aid in that sense at the arcade to begin with, but it would also reveal his alleged ‘kindness’ for what it really is — shallow, insincere, and sometimes even downright sinister.

[Next]

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[Beginning]

[view the masterlist]

[izanyas]

Portrait Of You

BSD/BNHA crossover fic in which Chuuya mentors a young Ochako! Partially commissioned by @exocarapace​. Many thanks to @scarlet-blossoms​ for the proofreading.

Rating: T Words: 11,300 Warnings: underage drinking and smoking.

Portrait Of You

As a general rule, Chuuya hates any assignment that takes him away from Yokohama for longer than a day. This one's on the shorter side, a few days at the most, but it gets extra contempt for taking him to this place specifically.

"You've yet to tell me of any good reason I should offer you fundings," he tells—Kurogiri, he thinks—the man whose ability seems to be constantly active, since his face is hidden behind a smokescreen, black as ink. "Or my attention, at all."

He can tell Kurogiri doesn't appreciate being talked down to by a seventeen-year-old, no matter how infamous a member of the mafia he may be. Kurogiri's rather good at concealing it, all things considered. His tone hasn't wavered and his attention is plenty.

The kid in the corner who keeps emitting poorly-disguised murderous intent might explain that.

"You won't even take me to your leader," Chuuya goes on, glancing back to Kurogiri. By now he's having a harder time managing his own irritation—he wants to go home. "I'm sorry, truly, but the port mafia doesn't take such easy baits."

Why did Mori send him here?

"Our leader is indisposed," Kurogiri says evenly. "Please be assured that we have no intention of making enemies out of you, quite the contrary."

"No one wants to make enemies out of us until they have our money." Chuuya can't help the twitch of his own lips, and he knows it looks anything but friendly.

"We can find fundings elsewhere."

"Then do."

Kurogiri is so close to snapping. The smoke around his head flares like a flame for just a second, and in the corner, the murderous child lets out a huff of breath that sounds like a wheeze of pain and a chuckle all at once. "You would regret not aiding us in the future. What we have planned—"

"Yeah," Chuuya cuts in, "I've heard that before. If you don't have anything to show now, then I'm not interested." He hoists his folded coat up higher under his arm, places his hat back onto his head. "I'm out of here."

He makes it to the first step that leads out of the decrepit bar when something brushes against his arm, making his elbow burn.

Chuuya kicks it away with enough strength to dig a crater through the opposite wall.

"You'll stay here," the child murmurs, and he's not crouching in the shadows anymore.

There are disembodied hands floating around him. The wall Chuuya has just damaged trembles, and out of the debris at its foot another one floats up, bleeding black blood out of its knuckles, turning the pebbles clinging to it to dust. It flies back to where the boy is standing. He lifts his head to look at Chuuya. His mouth is cracked and dry, and his face is scarred.

He looks like a nightmare. This is by far the most repulsive gift Chuuya has ever seen.

"You don't want to test me, boy," Chuuya says lowly. "I've eaten bigger fish than you for breakfast."

He lets power burst through the soles of his feet, and the concrete snaps under his weight, cracks appearing through the whole dining room's floor like it's made of glass. The boy stretches his mouth into a lipless smile.

"Shigaraki Tomura," Kurogiri says, "that's enough."

The boy deflates immediately.

It's almost disappointing. Chuuya doesn't enjoy weak opponents and Shigaraki Tomura looks anything but weak. Looks aren't everything, and an ability's appearance doesn't equate its strength—Elise is proof of that—but Chuuya can tell that there's a hole at the elbow of his jacket, that his skin is singed and maybe even bleeding through the fabric of his shirt. This is a dangerous power in the hands of a dangerous-looking child.

"I'll give you three days," Chuuya decides. His words are for Kurogiri, but he's looking at Shigaraki still. "Either let me meet with your leader when I come back or give me proof that the port mafia should kickstart that little gang of yours. Your choice."

He doesn't wait for an answer before leaving.

The air outside is a lot more breathable. This part of town is mostly in construction, the bare bones of cheap apartment buildings already standing tall, steel pipes bursting through the sides of the concrete walls that have been poured around their structure. It's a crisp fall evening, and the wind smells like dust and rain.

Chuuya has a bet running with Dazai that he can stop smoking first, but what Dazai doesn't know won't kill him, so he lights a cigarette with a flick of his Zippo and inhales a fourth of it in one breath. Then he starts walking.

He's never more aware of how special Yokohama's situation is than when he's out of it. The rumor that his city has a knack for attracting very powerful or very rare abilities is probably a hoax—Shigaraki and Kurogiri are both powerfully gifted—but the ministry pays special attention not to let vigilante activity happen on the premises nonetheless. Where the ministry fails, the port mafia succeeds. Gifts are not called quirks in Yokohama, and the ones who use them are not heroes.

Frankly, Chuuya is glad for it. His organization has enough colorful personalities as it is, he doesn't want to imagine any of them running around in costumes, with logos and catchphrases and companies.

He's in the process of trying to forget the picture of Kajii wearing spandex when he hears someone yell, "Help!" very faintly.

He stills in his tracks. There's no one around that he can see; it's Sunday, so the construction crews aren't working, and not a soul lives here yet beside the villains holed in that underground bar-like place. Chuuya puts a hand on the handle of the knife at his hip.

"Up here!" the voice says, louder. It breaks on the last syllable as if choking back tears.

Chuuya raises his eyes.

There's a little girl sitting perched on one of the windows of the building next to him, four floors up. The window is nothing but a gap in bare, grey concrete, and the inside of the building doesn't even exist yet—she's squeezing the ledge between her legs and shaking in a way he can see even from the ground.

"How the hell did you get up there?" he asks, bewildered.

The girl whimpers. "M-my quirk—" she starts, but then she leans a little too much to the side and has to straighten up quickly, and Chuuya can see just how her shoulders shake, from the fear and exhaustion—how long has she been there?

"P-please help me," the girl says. She's crying now, her words barely discernible between her sobs. "P-please call someone, I-I'm g-going to fall—"

"You're not going to fall," Chuuya cuts her off, because her panic his starting to make him anxious. "Just—hang on, I'm coming up."

Using his ability is a bad idea, especially in Musutafu. He knows that. He's under orders to be discreet, not to give out his strength, but he's already made a spectacle of himself in front of the people he's supposed to talk to, so it's not like it can get any worse. He snaps gravity out of existence around himself and floats up to her level, pushing himself upward with his hands against the wall. She's gasping at him when he reaches her.

Chuuya extends a hand forward. He's holding himself still with the other, his fingers hooked into the corner of the window she's sitting on. "Grab me," he says. "You won't fall."

He expects her to say something silly and obvious like, You can fly! But all the girl does is grab his forearm with both of her shaking hands, and he winces, because her fingers dig hard into the bruises left by Corruption's last use. She turns weightless the moment he touches her, and instead of the scared cry he expects her to give out, she says, "You have the same quirk as me!"

"What?"

She doesn't answer. It's like all the fear has left her suddenly, and she laughs, launching herself off the window fearlessly and grabbing him around the middle.

"Thank you," she says against his stomach. She's still shaking.

Chuuya floats the both of them down with more care than he shows when he does it on his own. As expected, she collapses the moment her feet touch ground and he lets her own weight rush back into her, but it's a harmless fall, just her behind on the grass.

It's then that Chuuya realizes he has no idea what to do with a lost kid in the first place.

He clears his throat. "Are you all right?" he asks awkwardly. "Should I—er—where are your parents?"

He winces—what if she doesn't have parents? How many orphans are there in Musutafu? Chuuya doesn't even think he knows anyone who has parents. He and Dazai don't. Neither does Kouyou.

"How do you not puke?" the girl asks him.

Chuuya looks at her blankly. "Puke?"

"When you cancel the gravity on yourself, how do you not puke? I always puke when I do it."

"When you…" He pauses. "You can control gravity?"

"Yes," she says excitedly. "I told you, we have the same quirk!"

She touches the tips of all her fingers together, and then a few rocks sitting by her hip. Sure enough, the rocks start floating in a way he recognizes instantly. There's no pull to be felt when he extends his own awareness toward them.

"Heh," Chuuya lets out. He can feel himself smile. "What are the odds?"

"I thought you were just flying, but then when you touched me I recognized it,"—she pushes herself back to her feet while she talks, fast and bright—"it's really special, isn't it? There's no way I wouldn't recognize it, it was so cool!"

"Hang on," Chuuya interrupts, because he's starting to feel himself blush, "if you can control gravity then why were you stuck up there?"

It's her who turns crimson this time. She looks down at her feet and mumbles, "I don't know."

The lie is obvious, but Chuuya thinks he can easily surmise what happened from that alone. She went up, took a break, and got too scared to come down.

Like a cat, he thinks.

"All right," he tells her—he can spare her pride at least. "Is there anyone I should… take you back to?"

She wipes her face with the back of her hand. "My dad's home," she answers. "Mom's at work. But I don't wanna leave yet!"

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because you gotta teach me how to not puke!"

Chuuya stares at her. "No," he replies. "No way. I'm taking you back home and then I'm leaving before I get accused of kidnapping you or something."

"You can't!" She grabs him by the arm again, painfully, and Chuuya could've avoided it but this isn't a mafia kid, this isn't like with Shigaraki earlier—she's just a little girl. He doesn't want to hurt her by accident.

It's a little funny to feel her try and cancel the gravity on him to trap him, though. All he has to do is cancel it back again and watch her face grow redder and redder by the second. At least it is until he starts feeling a rush of overwhelming warmth and rage crawl up from deep in his stomach. There's a stinging along his arms and neck that Chuuya has only ever felt when Corruption draws ink-black squirming lines over his skin. Pebbles and torn blades of grass start floating around them, and the air shimmers purple, and all of a sudden Chuuya remembers Sakaguchi Ango telling him about the dangerous singularities that happen when similar gifts are used against one another.

He tugs his arm out of her grip and steps away from her. The air stops glowing.

"What was that?" the girl asks, mouth wide open, and Chuuya's stomach clenches on fear.

"Nothing," he replies. "Look, kid—"

"My name's Ochako," the girl cuts in.

Chuuya hesitates. "Ochako," he repeats. "I don't know how long you were stuck up there. You should go home and… make sure you're not hurt or anything. Your dad's probably worried."

He can see his words ring true in her mind. Her mouth turns down with acceptance and disappointment.

"Do you live far from here?" he asks as non-threatening as he can. He doesn't want her to think he's a creep, or anything—he has no intention of ever seeing her again once she's off his hands.

"Just a few minutes," she mumbles. "But I don't want Dad to yell at me."

Chuuya has no idea what to say to that.

She sniffs and rubs her nose again. "What's your name?" she asks, eyes rising to meet his once more.

This is such a bad idea. Chuuya's used to people trying to kill him and used to people expecting things of him and used to Dazai, but he has no idea how to deal with some clueless little girl looking at him like she's never seen anything greater in her life. Like he's her own personal superhero.

"Chuuya," he says.

"Chuuya-nii-san," she repeats, and her eyes are so bright.

Chuuya flinches. "No, just—just Chuuya's fine." Then, before she can say anything more disturbing: "Let's get you home, all right?"

He doesn't dare touch her, too afraid of what happened a minute ago, but Ochako shares no such fears. Her hand slides into his as if she's done this all her life—holding the hand of criminals. All Chuuya can think of as she tugs him in the direction of her home is that he's never held anything so small without destroying it.

The boneyard of half-risen buildings fades into recent, but finished, houses and gardens. Ochako walks him forward for about ten minutes, talking about her dad and her mom, a construction worker and a doctor's secretary respectively, and her family dog named Max who's apparently the softest poodle in the world, and how there's a girl at her school whose ability is to fly and how Ochako is sure she can go higher than her if she trains. It's why she got stuck on that window in the first place.

Chuuya doesn't know how to answer, so he doesn't. He holds her hand like it's made of paper, like it'll crumble if his grip is too tight, and he double-checks every crossroad.

Ochako stops at the very beginning of a short impasse, in front of a tiny house with a blue roof half-covered in crawling vines. It looks well-loved. Well-lived.

"That's my house," she says.

Chuuya lets go of her hand. His tone is flat when he answers. "Go on, then."

She looks back at him like she's about to say something, but the front door opens with a bang, and out comes the promised poodle, brown-furred and yelping loudly. He throws himself at her and she giggles, crouching to scratch him under his chin and between his forelegs as he licks her face eagerly.

A man comes out after the dog and yells, booming, "Ochako!"

"Dad!"

She throws herself in her father's direction, body glowing blue, floating weightless until she can wrap both of her arms around the man's neck like she did Chuuya's waist earlier. Chuuya doesn't hear the words they exchange, though he can guess by the man's tone that his anger is made of worry and not any kind of violence.

Something in his back shifts and relaxes.

The dog is sniffing around Chuuya's feet in curiosity. Chuuya steps back, intending to make a quick departure now that he knows the girl is safe.

"Son," Ochako's father says in his direction.

Chuuya freezes.

He watches the man walk toward him with his heart beating hard against his ribs and doesn't know what to do except steel himself. It's the only reason he doesn't recoil when a wide hand grabs his shoulder.

"His name's Chuuya," Ochako says excitedly, tugging on her father's other arm. "He saved me!"

"S'that right?" he asks Chuuya.

Chuuya bites the inside of his cheek. "I didn't really—"

"I was stuck up one of the places you're building and he floated up and saved me! He's got the same quirk as me!"

"Ochako," the man groans tiredly, looking sideways at his daughter. "What did I tell you about using your quirk on your own?"

Her hands drop from his arm. She looks cowed. "M'sorry."

He sighs. His eyes are warm when they meet Chuuya's again, and Chuuya has to remind himself that he's faced things more terrifying than genuine gratitude. "Well, thank you, son. Please come in, get warmed up—"

"I can't," Chuuya says, dislodging the man's hand and stepping away, "sorry, I have to—"

Have to what? He hasn't prepared an excuse for a situation like this because he's never had to face a situation like this. Dazai would know how to smooth-talk his way out of it, but Chuuya's first option is always blunt honesty, and for once, he doesn't want to ruin what someone thinks of him by letting slip that he's a criminal.

It's so weird. He's never minded being a criminal before.

"I can't," he repeats, feeling pathetic.

"Nonsense," the man declares.

Chuuya's dragged inside the house before he can say anything else.

"Is that Ochako?" This is a new voice, Chuuya realizes, right as someone who can't be anyone other than Ochako's mother comes from around the corner of the bright-lit hallway. "Hey, darling," she says when Ochako hugs her. "Where have you been? We were about to call the police, you know."

Her husband tells her what Chuuya did; Ochako completes his tale with more admiration than necessary. By the end of it Chuuya has a third person looking at him like he's someone great. It's three people too many.

He's not meant to be in warm houses alongside warm families. And the house is so warm, so alive, smelling of cinnamon and old wood. Chuuya hadn't appreciated how cold the weather is before feeling all the shivers leave his skin.

"You'll stay for dinner," Ochako's mother decides, and Chuuya's refusal dies on his lips when he meets her eyes. "Come on, make yourself comfortable." She gestures to the coat and jacket and gloves he's wearing.

Chuuya's saliva goes down painfully when he swallows. It's the longest second in his life, that moment between looking at her hands and realizing that he doesn't want to seem rude, realizing, also, what he looks like. He's never felt ashamed of dressing expensively and ostentatiously, but he does, now, taking off his coat and trying his best not to look as she and her husband notice the knife sheathed at the small of his back. Peeling off his gloves and exposing the blue bruises marring each of his knuckles, palms, wrists and beyond.

They make no comment on it. Chuuya gets out of his shoes and lets himself be led into the living-room by Ochako, who's tugging him by the sleeve of his shirt.

Dinner is an uncomfortable affair; Chuuya avoids questions about himself as much as he can, admits to not being schooled anymore and then shifts the conversation toward Ochako herself, who, he learns, is ten years old and not eight as he assumed. She's in school, has good grades, and enjoys P.E. more than history. She wants to be a hero when she grows up. She's already got her name picked—Uravity.

"Show them, Chuuya," she says eagerly as her mom serves dessert, "show them your quirk!"

Chuuya's lips thin, but he does. Ochako is absurdly delighted when he makes her chopsticks fly over her head. She squeals when he makes them turn around themselves and even fight together like tiny swords, and Uraraka Daisuke whistles, patting his daughter's head.

"You don't get nauseous at all?" Ochako's mother—Uraraka Aiko—asks him, obviously interested.

Chuuya can't look at her. "No."

"You hear that, Ochako?" Daisuke says. "Maybe you'll stop feeling sick too after a while."

They all assume Chuuya used to feel sick while using his powers, but he didn't. For the Tainted Sorrow comes to him as easily as breathing, has for as long as he's been alive. Control is never something he has to fight for outside of Corruption—and with Corruption the fight is useless, so he doesn't anymore. He doesn't know why Ochako is having difficulties.

"Please teach me how to use it," Ochako says again. "Please, please, please—"

Chuuya bristles. "I can't. I told you already."

"—please please please pleaseplease—"

"Enough," Aiko says, wrapping a hand over her daughter's mouth to muffle her words. She throws Chuuya an apologetic glance. "If Chuuya-san says he doesn't want to, then he doesn't want to."

Ochako struggles out of her hold and says, loudly, "But it's the first time I meet someone with the same quirk as me! No one's gonna be able to teach me better than him!"

"The teachers at UA will, if you study hard enough to pass the entrance exam," Daisuke says with a smile.

"It's not the same."

Chuuya is acutely aware of the looks that her parents throw him. The knife at his back feels like a burn wound, and he slips his hands off the table and into his lap to hide the bruises and scars. He knows why they don't insist that he teach their daughter, though the occasion must seem priceless to them as well.

"Please," Ochako repeats, turning tear-bright eyes toward him. "Gravity manipulation isn't even one of the cooler quirks, and I can't fight well. Everyone's going to be better than me at UA."

Chuuya has to resist the urge to snort. The last person who told him gravity manipulation was a weak power still cowers when they cross paths in the port mafia's headquarters.

This is neither here nor there, though.

"Sorry," he mutters. "I'll be out of the city in a few days anyway."

"You're not from around here?" Daisuke asks him.

Chuuya meets his eyes when he replies, "No. I'm from Yokohama."

For a moment he thinks he sees actual worry and fear in the man's eyes. He thinks Aiko is going to throw herself at her daughter and Daisuke is going to yell at him to get out of the house and never come close to his family again. Yokohama, on top of the way Chuuya dresses, the way he behaves and the obvious blood on his hands, can only mean one thing, even this far from home.

But all Daisuke does after that suspended second is look sadly understanding, which means that Chuuya is the one who ends up staring down and feeling his face burn. He doesn't know if it's shame or anger. He just wants to be out of here.

"Even a few days is good," Ochako says, completely oblivious. "Even one day is good."

"You have school," her mother chides.

"He can teach me after school!"

"We could pay you," Daisuke offers Chuuya after a moment. "If that's a worry."

"What? No—" Chuuya knows his eyes are wide, and he can't help but raise both hands and shake them around, though all that achieves is make Aiko wince as she takes in the bruises again—"I don't need your money. I don't want your money."

"I'll pay you," Ochako declares.

"With the allowance we're about to suspend for putting yourself in danger?" Daisuke replies, amused.

Ochako turns red.

It's obvious that they don't have that much money, and Chuuya is intimately familiar with this. He's not about to take more from them than some food off their table. "I don't need money," he repeats. "I have a job already." He almost says, I'm here on a job, but then realizes how badly that could go, considering the kind of jobs they probably think he has. They wouldn't be that far from the truth.

Ochako looks so very determined. Chuuya's never met anyone who looked at him with this sort of bull-headed yearning; Ochako doesn't see him as a powerful ability user or as one of the mafia's most destructive hidden aces. Dazai stares at him kind of the same when he's being stubborn, but he's not… he's Dazai. It's different. Ochako most likely has never heard of Double Black and never will.

God, he hopes she never will.

"Fine," he hears himself say. "Okay. Fine, I'll try to help you. But only—" he points at her, stopping her in the motion of jumping in her seat, probably, "only if I can. And only for the next three days." He's going home after that even if he has to die trying.

It doesn't matter how reluctant he sounds. Ochako's face brightens like Christmas has come early, and she smiles, and Chuuya has not the faintest idea why that makes him feel better.

--

Dazai texts him that night, while he's trying to find sleep in the shitty hotel room he rented. It smells like wet walls and the room service sucks. Chuuya went to a convenience store to get breakfast for the morning rather than risk anything from the restaurant. He's been turning and tossing between the scratchy sheets for the better part of an hour, and because he smoked during the afternoon instead of abstaining, he wants to smoke again.

When are u coming back? Dazai asks him.

Chuuya frowns at his phone, squinting from the light. What's it to you? he types.

The response comes within a minute: HQs r boring. He's punctuated the sentence with the most extensive sad face emoji Chuuya has ever seen. I wanna know if u cheated abt smoking.

I didn't.

He lights a cigarette after that, opens the window as far as it'll go to lean out to breathe the smoke into the cold night air, away from the smoke detector.

Ur smoking right now aren't u!

Shut the fuck up. And I'm coming home in 3 days. 4 max.

Chuuya flicks the ashes off into the three-story fall under his window. There's an ember glowing two windows to his left, the proof of another tenant who can't find sleep. Just like him. Just like Dazai.

Maybe it's no coincidence that Dazai only ever texts him when he's away, or that Chuuya can't find sleep outside of Yokohama.

B waiting for u at ur place when u get back ;), Dazai says.

"Fuck off," Chuuya mutters. Don't you dare break into my apt, you freak, he sends.

Dazai replies with a badly edited picture of a smug-looking cat surrounded by knives.

He finishes the cigarette quickly; takes cold water out of the fridge to get rid of the dry ache in his throat; eats half of a pear.

He finds sleep easily when he gets back under the blanket, Dazai's voice running in his mind, Ochako's smile printed inside his eyelids. He doesn't dream at all.

--

Chuuya learns several things about Uraraka Ochako the following day.

The first is that she is as moody as he was at her age. She's sulking a tempest when he gets to her house around six in the evening, face withdrawn and voice rough from yelling. Daisuke is the only one home aside from her, and he tells Chuuya that she got into trouble at school for racing up the air with that flying girl she mentioned yesterday.

"If you hadn't accepted so graciously to help her we'd have suspended the lessons too," he tells him in a whisper, like Chuuya is someone that innocent civilians living in happy homes can be jokingly conspiring with instead of a time bomb waiting to explode. "So we had to ground her for the week on top of taking away allowance privileges."

He seems in a good mood, but there's a crease of worry between his eyebrows that's digging deeper and deeper by the minute. Ochako stopped whatever tantrum she was in the moment Chuuya appeared; she's in her room now, getting changed out of her uniform and into clothes she can afford to dirty a bit. Daisuke looks relieved and scared all at once.

Chuuya says nothing. He remembers pranking Kouyou by crawling over the ceiling of her bedroom and dropping on top of her like a brick, Dazai standing in the back and muffling shrieking laughter into his bleeding hands. He remembers Kouyou as a teenager with her hair in disarray and her voice bordering on screams, begging Hirotsu to inculcate dignity to them so she can have 'One fucking day of peace'.

It's a law of the universe that children find a way to be children no matter the circumstances.

The second thing Chuuya learns about Ochako has to do with her ability, once he tells her to give him a demonstration.

Ochako has little white patches of skin on each of her finger pads. To be able to make anything weightless, she has to touch them with it. Chuuya learns quickly that the full scope of her powers as of now consists in cancelling an object's gravity and giving it back. There are no grey areas for her to manipulate the way he does. It's a straightforward power with straightforward limits, dangerous if used right but rather harmless overall. She can't densify anything's gravity. She can't stop things in motion if she doesn't touch them.

She has no Corruption.

The reason she gets nauseous is a mix of regular motion sickness and the fact that unlike him, she doesn't seem able to extend her power around herself. Chuuya doesn't just cancel gravity. He can control it however he wants, he can direct it sideways or up in spite of Earth's attraction. He can be weightless or he can weigh a ton. His control is so total that he's never met the limit of how far he can go yet, outside of Dazai stopping him in his tracks.

Ochako cancels her own gravity, and her stomach and inner ear don't like the shift. It's a matter of habit—nothing he can help her with.

The third thing Chuuya learns about Ochako is that she's talkative.

"Are you a hero?" she asks him, ten minutes into the lesson.

He eyes her warily. "No."

"Why?"

"There are no heroes in Yokohama."

It perplexes her. "Why?"

Because we're all villains, Chuuya thinks. Because we've all got blood on our hands and the ministry is too scared to stop us and we don't know how to live any other way, and sometimes we're happy like this, and you wouldn't understand.

"I don't know," he lies.

"But you're so strong," she says, voice high with admiration, brown eyes wide with dreams and determination. Chuuya makes her float in place with his own powers to see if it makes a difference in her nausea just because he can't stand to see himself how she sees him.

"How old are you?" she blurts out an hour later, in the midst of everything else she's asked and said.

"I'm seventeen."

"Oh… you're older than I thought."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're short," she replies, matter-of-fact.

He makes mud and grass chase after her around the backyard for ten minutes. She laughs and laughs and laughs.

--

I have a student, Chuuya tells Dazai that night. He's back at the hotel with warm food in his belly from the dinner Aiko and Daisuke forced on him. Ochako was so tired by the time it ended that she almost face-planted into her dirty plate. Daisuke carried her upstairs while Aiko bid Chuuya goodbye, her smile warmer than it was the day before.

? Dazai sends back.

Some girl who got stuck at a construction site. Chuuya pauses, not knowing how to finish the text. I helped her out. Turns out she's a gravity manipulator like me, he settles on.

Illegitimate child?

She's 10.

Illegitimate sister?

Chuuya groans. I'm still around for a bit so I said yes when she asked for pointers is all.

It takes a while for Dazai to answer. Chuuya chews on some leftover hard candy from the day before, wishing he could buy wine but knowing it's not worth the trouble of getting it. He doesn't have any bartender conveniently indebted to him here.

Chuuya's phone buzzes. Don't get too attached, is what Dazai wrote him.

Chuuya stares at the message for a minute before throwing his phone across the bedspread.

He knows Dazai's right. Musutafu is about the antithesis of Yokohama where abilities are concerned. The city's a potpourri of flashy advertising, of capitalism built on the back of hyped vigilantes who now have but the name of heroes rather than the fabric. Not a day goes by here where Chuuya doesn't cross paths with petty criminals chased by men and women in colorful costumes, themselves chased by flashing cameras and phones. It's like a circus. It's nothing like the port mafia.

The only people who know of Chuuya's exploits are his boss and those who live to tell the tale; and the tale is told in whispers around meeting tables, never flashed onto TV screens for the uninvolved to consume. HERO NAME v. VILLAIN NAME, the screens say, red or blue background on the left where a hero smiles, purple or black on the right where the villain stares, mouth open to show teeth.

Chuuya knows which side of the screen he'd be on. He knows what Corruption looks like.

(Dazai took a picture, once, close enough to Chuuya's face that Chuuya near had an aneurism once he saw it because what the fuck were you doing standing so close to me and taking pictures I could've died I could've killed you—

He looks like a monster in it. His face is bloody and bruised and his mouth is open on screams that leave his throat raw for hours afterward, teeth red with the blood he's vomiting, lips purple, eyes crazed and unseeing.

Dazai was silent when he deleted the picture. He looked like he was sorry.)

Ochako would have a red or blue background behind her name and her smile.

--

Chuuya thinks on it during the day: Ochako doesn't have the fine-control he does, nor the range, but their abilities are close enough in nature that he almost—almost—triggered something dangerous when he met her. Which means there's probably more similarities than he can think of as of now. Maybe she'll grow into it later. Gifts can be finicky like that, occasionally.

In the meantime, he can teach her what he uses zero gravity for.

"You said you were bad at fighting, right?" he asks her once she's done doing all the boring control exercises he remembers fashioning years ago.

"Yeah," she replies with a pout. "I'm learning karate but…"

"That's fine," Chuuya says. He's on his way to earning his second dan in karate, but she doesn't need to know that. "Sometimes martial arts aren't the best. The field can teach you more." She looks defeated, still, so he adds nonchalantly: "Wanna learn a sweet move?"

Her smile is all teeth.

Chuuya checks behind himself, to make sure the door leading to the garden isn't open, because he's not sure what Aiko or Daisuke would say about him teacher their daughter something she can potentially use to hurt others.

Think of it as something she can use to protect herself, he tells himself.

Chuuya winks at Ochako before running a few steps and throwing himself at the wall, hands extended forward. He makes himself weightless before touching stone and then pushes; it's a move he uses by shifting his gravity around to make it more powerful, but Ochako can't do that, so he makes do without. His body flies like a bullet to the wall on the other side of the garden, and the sound it makes when the kick lands is loud.

"Amazing." Ochako is standing with her fists clenched, body shaking with excitement.

It's a flashy move. It's more effective in close quarter combat than anything, and Chuuya has used it to kill or at least seriously knock out in the past. But Ochako has no inkling of that.

"It's, um." He clears his throat. "We'll start slow, all right? I don't," he points an accusing finger toward her, "want you to use it against classmates or to show off or anything. Only if your life is in danger, or if you have proper supervision. We good?"

"We good," she replies, solemn.

He doesn't know how much he can trust her, but it'll have to do.

Chuuya lets Ochako start by floating gently from wall to wall, pushing herself back and forth with her hands and feet. He takes a quick trip to the bathroom by the entrance of the house, checks his phone in case new orders have come in or Dazai tried to message him, but there's nothing.

There's a murmur while he washes his hands whose words he can't discern until he turns off the faucet. Then he catches the end of a sentence, "—so young," said in Aiko's most anguished voice, and he feels his heart fill with ice.

"There's nothing we can do," Daisuke says. They must be standing in the kitchen, which is the room farthest away from the garden's door but closest to the bathroom. "He wouldn't let us even if we tried to help him. And it'd put us in danger."

Aiko is so silent for a moment that Chuuya thinks she must have left. "He's always carrying that knife."

"He won't use it on us."

"I know, it's just… Those bruises. He's seventeen. He looks like—"

She doesn't finish, and Chuuya doesn't need her to. His can see his face in the mirror above the sink just fine, his stupid face and his stupid long hair and his eyes like a murderer's, no matter how much he smiles.

"He probably grew up with those people. I looked it up a bit. Apparently they take them in really young. Orphans," Daisuke adds, like it explains everything, and it does.

Chuuya dries his hands and opens the door.

Daisuke and Aiko jump in place, turning to look at him in a single move; Chuuya stands in the entrance of the kitchen and stares at both of them in turn.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he says. "Or Ochako. I'm sorry if I acted in a way that made you think I would."

They exchange a look. "You didn't," Daisuke says—his hand wraps around Aiko's hip as is seeking comfort, and her fingers link with his. "Ah, sorry, kid. We didn't know you were—"

"I don't need saving," Chuuya cuts in. He sees Daisuke suck in a breath as he continues. "Yeah, I've hurt people. Tons of people. I've killed a few." Aiko flinches bodily. "I'll go if you don't want me around you or your daughter. I get it."

"Chuuya-kun," Aiko says, with despair on her voice.

"So don't you dare judge me or my life," Chuuya goes on, frowning. "I do what's necessary to protect the people I care about, and that's all you need to know about me. I'm not some poor kid that just needs new parents to be set straight. I know what I'm doing and I'm proud of where I belong."

It's true. Chuuya feels profoundly stupid for the shame he's felt in coming here. He loves Yokohama, he loves his home. He's loyal to the port mafia and he has a family—he has a sister in Kouyou. He has a partner in Dazai. He'll do anything to keep them and the roof above their heads safe, even if he has to kill for it.

Chin up, Chuuya says, "I'll go tell Ochako goodbye."

--

He doesn't sleep that night. It's not the temperature because his room is cold, enough so that he has to wrap himself in blanket and bedspread at once. It's not nicotine addiction because he indulges that, cigarette after cigarette over the dirty ledge of the window while the same person two rooms over does the same. He tells himself it's not the See you tomorrow! that Ochako shouted at him as he left, or the happy bark of Max the poodle at her feet.

It's almost four in the morning when he gives in and calls Dazai.

"What's up?" Dazai answers after only a ring. He doesn't sound tired at all.

"Musutafu is the fucking worst," Chuuya says. "If I have to see one more moron running around in spandex I'm going to do the villains a favor and kill them myself."

"I thought the villains ran around in spandex too."

"Whatever." Chuuya taps his cigarette to make the ashes fall. His insomniac neighbor's window is closed this time. "The point is, this place is fucking ridiculous."

Dazai chuckles. Chuuya hears the awful creaking sound that his desk chair makes when he rolls it around through the static. "I'm sure they say the same thing about Yokohama."

"Yeah," Chuuya mutters, thinking of Ochako's parents' words.

They're both silent for a moment. The night is icy, the cold stinging every time Chuuya inhales from his nose and making something painful flare in his chest as it goes down. He sucks in more of the cigarette to distract himself from it and almost jumps when Dazai lets out a loud, "Hah!"

"What?"

"You're smoking!"

Chuuya pushes the cigarette away from his mouth. "I'm not."

"I win," Dazai continues, delighted.

"Oh come on," Chuuya says, rolling his eyes. "Like you haven't been cheating."

"Can you prove it?" They both know he can't, and Chuuya grits his teeth when Dazai snickers. "Admit it, Chuuya. You lost this one."

Chuuya will die before he confesses to the warmth that spreads through him upon hearing Dazai say his name. It's not heavy with pity or regret, the way Daisuke and Aiko say it; it's not full of innocent misplaced adoration like with Ochako; it's just his name, attached to everything he is and isn't. To everything Dazai knows he is and isn't. Undemanding and true.

"Fine," he says. "But I know I'll win about drinking."

"No you don't."

"Lupin's barkeep owes me one," Chuuya replies, smiling before he can help it. "So unless you've been ordering water during your little outings with Oda and Sakaguchi…"

There's a second of silence before Dazai sighs dramatically. "Damn you, Chuuya."

He has to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing. "So we said a week, right."

"Two. Two weeks of you paying for my groceries."

"And two weeks of you paying for mine."

"This is so unfair," Dazai complains. "Everything you buy is expensive."

"Not my problem, Dazai."

Wind comes in from up front, pushing Chuuya's hair out of his face and numbing his nose and cheeks instantly. He has a scarf around his neck that does little to stop the shivers erupting around his collarbones. He closes the window and sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his elbow with his free hand, seeking warmth.

"I can't wait to be home," he says.

"Missing me?" Dazai replies, and it's mocking, but Chuuya isn't stupid enough to think that Dazai has missed a second of the vulnerability he just showed in admitting it.

"As if." He scoffs. "I just wanna be able to watch TV without hearing about heroes and All Mights and popularity rankings."

"I'd look rather fetching in spandex, I think."

Chuuya does laugh at that. "You'd have to get rid of the bandages. That's villain couture."

"Then I guess my dream is shot." There's a bumping sound over the line, probably Dazai's feet hitting the top of his desk. "HQ's been quiet without you around."

It's as close as he'll ever get to saying I miss you.

"What about that student of yours?" Dazai asks a little later, voice gone soft with understanding.

Chuuya looks at the ugly, mold-stained ceiling over his head. "She'll be fine," he says. And then: "Ane-san was right. There's nothing on the outside worth being hung up on."

"Isn't there."

There isn't.

--

Kurogiri isn't more forthcoming during his second visit. The bar is as cold and unappealing as it was three days ago, and Shigaraki isn't here this time for Chuuya to consider asking for a good fight. Chuuya tells the man what needs to be told.

"You'll regret this," Kurogiri says, like the self-righteous and idealistic fool he apparently is. "In a few years Yokohama's port mafia will regret not making friends out of us."

"Is that a threat?" Chuuya asks agreeably.

Kurogiri straightens up from his slouch over the bar. "It's a warning," he replies.

Chuuya lets the Tainted Sorrow flow out of him and catch at the very air, heavy and looming. The walls and floor still bear the marks of his last visit, although the rubble has been cleared; he sees Kurogiri struggle to stay standing and proud. The good two feet of height he has over Chuuya are his only weapon now.

"I could destroy this place in a snap of my fingers," he says. He's not gloating. "Don't bite off more than you can chew, villain."

"You can't kill me," Kurogiri declares.

"Can't I."

All Kurogiri does is meet his eyes, supposedly—Chuuya can't see the man's eyes through the smoke—and it's true that Chuuya doesn't know what his ability does other than make him look ridiculous, but the reverse is true as well. Kurogiri doesn't know what Chuuya can do. No one in Musutafu does. He would be met with fear if a single soul here had witnessed the carnage he leaves behind when he lets himself go.

In a way, Dazai's absence is their only saving grace.

Chuuya smiles widely. "Petition us 'in a few years' with more than just big words," he tells the fuming silhouette in front of him, "and maybe my boss'll bother sending an executive."

It's almost night when he walks out of the building.

Chuuya has already booked his train home. He has a couple more hours before he needs to be at the station to catch it, and he intends to spend them in a park somewhere, smoking until the sky is black. It's no use keeping up with the bet now that Dazai knows he's lost.

He makes his way through the dark and deserted construction zone with his hand on the handle of his knife. He's biting his lips as he walks, so hard at one point that he feels dead skin tear off and tastes blood at the tip of his tongue. It's not like him, and Kouyou will have his head for it once she sees, but Kouyou isn't here to stop him now. So Chuuya chews at his own lip and sucks blood out of the tiny wound and doesn't stop (walking or chewing) until he hears a voice call his name.

"Chuuya!"

He recognizes Ochako immediately, but he can't release his grip on the knife even when she's run all the way to where he is. He just stands still with his lip caught in his teeth and watches her pant, hunched over before him.

He unclenches his jaw. "What are you doing here?"

"Mom and dad said you weren't coming back," she heaves.

She straightens up to look at him. She's trying to inhale deeply through her nose, probably as some sort of instructor told her to do, but all she ends up doing is coughing and hacking and having snot run over her lips.

It's then that Chuuya realizes she's only wearing a thin long-sleeved shirt, no scarf or jacket. "You'll catch a cold," he growls, sliding the coat off his own shoulders. "Why the fuck did you come here?"

"I was looking for you!"

She lets out an oof when he wraps the coat around her, probably with more strength than necessary. It's so big on her that a third of it trails on the ground, catching dust and dirt, and she has to struggle to hold it in place around her neck. She grins at him. "I found you," she says.

"Yeah, you did." Chuuya feels the beginning of a smile on his lips, but it dies too quickly to show. "Fuck. Your parents are going to kill me."

"Why?"

He doesn't answer, just takes her by the arm and starts walking in the direction of her house. Ochako follows with dragging steps. She stumbles a couple times on the folds of the coat as she goes.

The dry cleaning for that is going to cost him a fortune. Chuuya wonders if he can reasonably excuse it as part of the groceries Dazai is going to pay for him.

"Why didn't you come?" she asks. There's no mistaking the disappointment in her voice, and Chuuya tries not to let it get to him. "I waited for hours."

"Couldn't," he answers. "Sorry."

"Dad just let me wait there and wait and wait and then I had to force him to tell me that you weren't coming at all." He feels her kick his shin and winces—that's going to bruise. "You said three days. I want three days."

"Too late now, isn't it?" Chuuya looks at her over his shoulder. She tugs her arm back, trying to make him stumble; Chuuya responds by fixing all gravity at his feet, and then she tries to cancel it on him, and Chuuya stops using his powers for fear of hearing Corruption's rumble through him again.

"You're a liar," Ochako says.

Chuuya drops her arm. "Yeah, I am."

She glares in silence for a good ten seconds before sitting on her butt in the middle of the path, staining his coat even more.

"What are you doing?" he asks tiredly.

"M'not going home until you teach me," she mumbles.

"I can't. I have a train to take." He's horrified to see tears gather in her eyes at his words and swears under his breath, "Fuck, fine. Just ten minutes, all right? Then I'm taking you back home before your folks have a stroke."

She wipes her eyes with the back of her hands. "Deal," she says.

There's no one around. Night falls early enough now that the hour isn't entirely unreasonable for a ten-year-old to be out alone—it just looks like it is. Chuuya sits cross-legged next to her and looks pointedly at his own feet so he doesn't have to meet the looks she gives him above the collar of his coat.

Fortunately, he's accumulated some experience in dealing with her. He takes a handful of pebbles in his hand and says, "Wanna see who can make those fly the highest?"

Ochako is a sweet girl. Earnest and stubborn and a little selfish, like him, in a lot of ways. She takes half of the rocks out of his hand and immediately touches her fingers to them, making them glow blue for a second and sending them up, up, up.

Chuuya's rocks don't stop glowing red when he sends them flying. After a moment Ochako's are invisible against the darkening sky, and Chuuya's act like a beacon in the distance.

"Why didn't you come back?" she asks him again.

Chuuya's hand clenches into the dry grass and dust. "Your parents didn't want me to."

"Why?"

"Grown-up reasons. They don't want me to be around you."

She looks at him like he's grown a second head. "Why?"

Chuuya gives her a lopsided smile and says, "Figure it out."

It's what he tells Dazai when Dazai's in one of his moods.

Ochako doesn't get it, of course. She scowls at him and kicks her legs in front of her, making more pebbles jerk away from her feet and causing some nearby, unseen cat to flee and hiss at them.

"I don't want you to leave," she mutters. "I've never met anyone else with the same quirk as me."

"I'm sure gravity manipulators are dime a dozen."

She just frowns even harder. "You're the first one I've met, though. And none of the others are as cool as you."

It tugs at his heartstrings in a weird sort of way.

Chuuya almost jumps when he feels her fingers slide into the opening of his sleeves. He wants to ask her what she's doing until he realizes that she's looking at the marbling of blue bruises over his forearms in wonder and childish disgust. "How'd you get those?"

She doesn't mean to hurt him—it's the only reason Chuuya doesn't slap her away when she presses into the inside of his wrist with the hard tip of her index, as if trying to see if the bruise will dispel at her touch.

"My, ah. My quirk can become a little… dangerous."

She lifts her head to look at him again. "Dangerous?"

"It's…" Chuuya can feel his heart beat at his throat. It's worse than nausea, worse than the bad kind of cigarette, the one he keeps smoking because he ought to even though his body obviously rejects the poison for what it is. "It screws up with my body a little. No one hit me or anything, it just kind of… makes my blood vessels explode."

"That's bad, right?" she asks, worried.

It's really bad. Chuuya used to be able to keep Corruption going for a dozen minutes at a time when he was younger; last week, it wasn't four minutes before Dazai had to stop him.

"It's fine," he tells her. "I have a friend who can help me when it gets like that. It's just a little side-effect."

She pokes him in the arm once more before taking back her hands, to his relief. "I hope I don't have it," she says.

They sit in silence as night spreads over their heads. Dusk is a quick affair at this time of the year, but even so, Chuuya knows they've been here longer than ten minutes. He doesn't say anything, though.

"Will you call me?" Ochako says.

"I can't."

Ochako nudges him with her foot. "Can I call you? Or write you?"

No, he thinks. And, at the same time, I wish you could. Daisuke and Aiko wouldn't want Ochako to be in contact with him, especially not in secret, and he can't give her his address for obvious reasons.

"Listen," he says, turning toward her. "I'll give you my phone number, but you have to promise me two things."

Her face lights up like fireworks. "Anything," she says.

"First," he raises one finger for emphasis, "you tell your parents that you have it. And if they don't want you to use it, then you don't." She looks about to start arguing, so he raises another finger and continues, "Second, you only ever call me from phone booths and stuff like that. Never from your cellphone or your parents'."

"I don't have a cellphone," Ochako mumbles.

"Good. I better not find out you called me from a personal number." He debates with himself for a moment, wondering if he should say more; wondering if he should tell her that those are not just arbitrary rules but ways to keep her safe. It's not too long of a shot to imagine someone discovering that Chuuya spent three days in Musutafu—it's not paranoia to think that a determined enough mole might find out about the girl he taught here.

Ochako looks so happy, though. He finds that he doesn't want to worry her.

She rummages through her pockets for a moment—and then his coats' pockets, he notices with a smile—before her shoulders slump, defeated. "I don't have a pen or paper."

Chuuya chuckles. "Gimme your arm."

He's got a pen in his back pocket of his slacks that he took from the hotel lobby when he left this morning. It's a fake-fancy thing in plastic that takes him three tries to get working at all. Ochako squirms while he writes his number along her forearm in blotchy blue ink, and he tugs her sleeve down as far as it'll go when he's done, so no one can see.

"You wash that as soon as you tell your mom and dad, okay?" he insists.

She nods, serious as a tomb. "Okay."

He knows this looks like a game to her, but it isn't to him. He can't tell her that, so he just ruffles her hair despite her protests and hoists her up to her feet one-handed.

It's so easy to find the way back to her home. Chuuya doesn't let himself think too hard about anything as he walks it with her hand clutched in his. Her parents seem to be there, because soft light pours out of every curtained window, and Chuuya stops on the other side of the road she lives on. He won't approach any further.

"You tell your parents…" He pauses. He's not sure how to finish this line of thought.

Ochako tugs on his hand insistently. He looks down at her.

"I forgot to tell you who you remind me of," she says, excited. "The Hair Hero, Cell Death!"

"The what now?"

"She's not the most famous but she's my favorite. Your hair is pretty just like hers."

Chuuya stares at her in silence for a moment. Then he laughs, too loud and too bright, each breath that shakes itself out of him warming his body against the icy air.

"It's not funny!" Ochako complains. "She catches villains with her hair. You know what, never mind, your hair sucks."

He rubs the top of her head harshly. She squirms, tries to wiggle her way out of the hold, saying Ow repeatedly.

"Kick the ass of whoever's bothering you at school," he says, grinning.

Ochako pushes his hand away from her head. "I thought you didn't want me to fight."

"I don't want you to use that move I showed you against kids, but feel absolutely free to fight."

He watches the smugness radiate out of her and feels more accomplished than he would if he'd brokered a deal with Kurogiri and his gang.

"Go on," he says softly, pushing her toward her home, where she'll be warm and loved and no doubt grow up to be a spectacular hero. "Tell your old man about the number. And tell him and your mom that… that they can use it, if they need my help one day."

--

Dazai's waiting for him at the station in Yokohama, his suit singed and soot-stained and his nose clogged with cotton to stop bleeding.

"You look like crap," Chuuya says once he's stepped off the train.

"Well, hello to you too," Dazai drawls. His voice has a nasal hint to it that makes him wince, disgusted. He takes the cotton out of his nose and says, "Gross."

"What happened?"

"Sparring against Gin-chan happened. That girl has a grudge against me, I swear."

"I can't imagine why," Chuuya replies mildly.

A simple spar doesn't explain the evidence of fire on Dazai's outfit, but Chuuya is pretty sure Dazai will tell him about that later, so he doesn't ask. He falls into the rhythm of the other's steps beside him as they walk out of the station and into the streets. It's even colder here than in Musutafu.

"You lost your coat," Dazai comments, seeing him rub his arms over his jackets' sleeves. He doesn't press the matter further, though.

They hail a taxi by the entrance. Dazai opens the door for Chuuya when it stops, puts one hand at the small of Chuuya's back as he leans forward to get inside of it, right above the outline of Chuuya's holstered knife.

This isn't exactly usual. They've picked each other up before when it was needed—when one of them had no other way of transport, or if they had to jump from one assignment to the next, but Dazai doesn't tell him about any assignment or order. He just sits in the back next to Chuuya and murmurs the address to the driver, who takes one look at them and is smart enough not to ask questions.

"So did you buy me a hero costume?" Dazai asks halfway into the trip.

Chuuya glances at him from the corner of his eyes. Dazai's staring at the blur of Yokohama outside the window, street lights and passersby and sometimes the gleaming ocean.

"It must be hard to find one that truly shows off my qualities," he continues.

"That's because they're nonexistent," Chuuya replies. "And no, I didn't. If you wanna play dress-up, do it on your own time."

"That hurts, Chuuya."

Chuuya stares at his own window. It's warm in the car but warmer inside his chest, like it's been since he saw Ochako hop toward her house, dwarfed in his dusty coat, whispering Goodbye, Chuuya over her shoulder like she's scared her neighbors will hear her.

"I bet you couldn't find one your size outside the kids' aisle," Dazai says, sliding a mocking smile in his direction.

"Fuck you, Dazai. They had tons of suits my size in the adults' section."

"So you did check."

Following the pace of their banter is as easy as falling, as long-lasting as knowing how to ride a bike. Chuuya thinks he could do it even with years of not seeing Dazai—just watch the look on his face, hear his smart words, and know how to respond. He does it at seventeen and he'd do it a sixty. After only five days apart, it's like Chuuya never left at all.

He turns his head toward his window fully, so Dazai won't see the smile on his lips. "Just shut up, will you."

Dazai hums.

Night uncoils around them, the cold kept at bay by the car's air conditioning. Chuuya feels something warm land just above his knee as the port mafia's skyscraper looms closer to them, and he says nothing even though this is nothing like before, nothing at all.

Dazai's hand squeezes his thigh, and Chuuya feels like he's at the beginning or something. Like the road they're on will lean up toward the sky and never stop.

--

--

Ochako's victory comes in the shape of a single, but deep, graze high on Bakugou's cheekbone. She put it there before dropping all the rumble of the arena on him by pushing her weightless body feet-first in his direction with all the strength of her arms against the destroyed floor. She knows he'll need sutures for it; she knows he'll collect his medal at the end of the day with an ugly plaster over his face to hide it.

The rest is defeat.

She's all out of tears after her parents' call. She wouldn't want to leave the infirmary even if she could; her face must be blotchy with bruises and snot and salty, dry trails. What hurts the most is her pride and confidence. Those, she can't bear to show to her classmates.

She looks at the phone in her lap and thinks that there's only one person she wants to hear from.

It's stupid, she knows. She hasn't called Chuuya in years. He's been forgotten with the same ease that all children forget things, people, gone from her mind because he's been gone from her immediate vicinity. Object permanence isn't learned at ten years old. Chuuya's probably forgotten about her too.

She can't even remember what he looks like. When she focuses she can recall a fancy suit and leather gloves and orange hair. The shape of his face has melted into nothing, and the voice she associates with him is vague enough that it can't be anything but her own half-hearted imagination.

She still knows the phone number he gave her by heart, though. Her fingers type it in with no need for thought, and her thumb presses the call button after a moment of hesitation. She's shaking from more than just pain when she presses the phone against her ear again.

It's still warm and sweaty from her last call. Gross.

"Nakahara," Chuuya says curtly after only two rings, and Ochako is struck so dumb by how familiar he sounds that her eyes burn.

She shoves her free hand against her mouth to choke out the sob that wants to tear through.

Chuuya doesn't wait long, only clicks his tongue in annoyance and says, "Who is this?"

"Ah," she lets out in a breath. "This is, um, Uraraka—I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"Ochako?"

It's only a murmur. She doesn't know if she's going to be able to answer, but it doesn't matter, because Chuuya's voice is muffled next, like he's talking to someone else on his side. The faint background noise vanishes a moment later.

"I'm, I'm sorry if I'm bothering you," she says lamely.

"You're not bothering me."

His voice has always had that raspy-smooth quality, she remembers now, though the smooth is more pronounced. Like he's irritated and not at the same time—like he doesn't know how else to speak neutrally.

Chuuya is silent for a second before speaking again. "Are you all right? Should you be calling anyone?"

"I'm—" she stops, eyes wide. "Wait, what?"

He chuckles. "I mean your injuries. You didn't look too hot toward the end."

Her mouth gapes.

"You were watching?"

"Yeah, of course." He sounds faintly surprised. "I saw your name on the class list. It's the first time I bother watching UA's sports festival—it's more interesting than I expected."

Her face splits into a grin in spite of her tears; she rubs them away with the flat of her hand and grips her phone tighter. "M'sorry I sucked."

"You didn't. That kid you were up against looks like a piece of work."

It's her turn to laugh, albeit bitterly. "He's, um. I kind of have a grudge against him," she admits.

"I couldn't tell," he replies dryly.

Ochako clenches the thin sheet spread over her legs between her fingers. She doesn't know how to keep the conversation going—Chuuya doesn't sound interested in small talk, doesn't seem like he wants to ask about her life or her parents. It's not out of indifference, she thinks. She feels at ease with him all the same.

"I hope his face scars," she blurts out.

Chuuya laughs brightly—she remembers his face all at once as if it's never left her mind, a hard smile and a hard voice and serious blue eyes—and he says, "That's the spirit."

Pride swells between her ribs.

"How are you?" she dares ask.

It takes a moment for him to answer. She hears something shift, like he's decided to lean against a wall or a chair. "I'm good," he says. "Working. Keeping an eye out." He doesn't precise what for.

"Do you still have long hair?"

"Sure. Do you still get stuck up trees like a cat?"

"It only happened once," she protests. "I've made tons of progress."

"I saw," he replies, and he sounds fond.

There's a deep, flat voice coming from his side of the call. It becomes faint within a second because Chuuya must have put a hand against the receiver so she can't hear. Ochako waits out the conversation that follows and knows with disappointed certainty that he's going to hang up soon.

"I have to go back to work," he says once whoever came to talk to him is gone.

"Can I…" She bites her lip. "Can I call you again later?"

"Yeah," Chuuya breathes out. "Yeah, of course."

Silence stills the air around her. Ochako remembers the promise he made her swear when he gave her this number—he's going to be mad when he realizes that she called from her cellphone. It makes her smile shakily.

"That was a pretty sweet kick you used at the end," Chuuya says eventually. "He probably only avoided because he stumbled."

"Doesn't matter. He still won."

"Mmh." She knows he's smiling too, now. "Still. Very nice propulsion."

Ochako closes her eyes from the sting of the setting sun, lips stretched so wide they ache, and she says, "I learned from the best."

[selfship-sideblog]

Self insert

So I think it's time I make a proper self insert, or at least try to. I didn't want to make a post for her from the beginning because I hadn't settled on many things and changing stuff up constantly. But now I think I'm mostly decided on everything. I'll update this post if I feel like I want to change her appearance or story more, but that's unlikely to be anytime soon.

Now let's get into it!

🦄 In general about her:

Her clothes may change depending on the show (or my mood tbh lol) but again, it's unlikely. Her personality isn't really set in stone and depending on the source it will be a little different, but this is to get a feel for it.

She also usually has a shoulder bag with her, but I kind of forgot about it.

She’s very similar to me and that’s why sometimes I use “I” for her.

(Under the cut for details for each source because this got a little long lol)

🦄 For specific sources:

💜 Ninjago

She is a college student (18yr old) in Ninjago city and is also a fanfic writer. She mainly writes for the Starfarer comic series. There’s one reader that always likes and comments on her fics and so they’ve gotten rather close over the internet. They meet at a convention irl and then she finds out he's Lloyd Garmadon, the green ninja. Later the ninja get thrown out of the monestary by Sensei Wu to "get a feel for a normal life". With nowhere to stay Lloyd asks his new friend for help. She let's them crash at her place for a while until they manage to get an apartment and jobs.

Mostly funny shenanigans from there on, nothing much happening lol.

This takes place after season two with minor adjustments like their age (although there are no official ones and I always felt like they never grew, like they stayed teenagers throughout the years lol) making them all around 17 or 18. As much as I love the canon I can't properly fit Diana in there so it will mostly go through it's own path, although I may keep some things from canon. And I may or may not make her a ninja later (a non-elemental one).

I also have an AU for this and it’s completely different from canon. It’s sort of a Youtuber AU or something like that. Like a group of young adults living in the same house and may or may not share a channel where they post all kinds of silly videos and stuff. Idk it just sounds so fun!

It's mostly slowburn and oblivious mutual pining between Diana and Lloyd. My selfship with him is pretty simple, fluffy and fun all around, just doing stuff, geeks being geeks and all. I don't want to add angst here because this is more of a comfort ship because it all started with him and it just reminds me of happy times when I first started selfshipping.

💜 Voltron:

I wanted to make two s/is for Voltron, one human and one Galra, however I couldn't design Demira (the Galra one) and so for now it's just an insight about her personality and relationship with Keith and other characters. When I do manage to properly make her I'll update this post to add the image.

Keith:

Demira is a half-Galra, a member of the Blades of Marmora. She got recruited shortly after her younger brother's death. Her missions are usually infiltration. Keith is often partnered up with her at the beginning. Their interactions start of a little awkward but they both start getting interest in the other's culture and soon start getting along. Demira with some of the other blade members are like their own small family and Keith slowly starts feeling like he belongs with them.

Their meeting is in season 3 I believe, when Keith officially joined the Blades, and their relationship develops until Keith leaves for the mission to find Krolia. It gets kind of complicated after this because he was gone for a long while and then the journey back to Earth. (I don't know how anything played out during seasons 7 & 8 so until I understand that part will be overlooked).

This pairing is more angsty since both of them are dealing with personal demons but is still wholesome.

(Also if you couldn’t tell I love the Dads of Mamora trope in voltron fics so I had to include it lol).

Lotor:

Diana is a young adult (idk how old, idc at this point lol), who has a stable job as a software developer. Life’s pretty normal. Until a space shuttle drops from the sky in the forest near her house. Obviously she goes to check it out and what does she find? A crashed space ship. What comes out of the crashed space ship? A tall, drop dead gorgeous purple alien! Unfortunately he is injured so she decides to help him. The only thing she can do tho is watch as he patches himself up because he refused to let unknown substances touch him. But he has no other choice but to trust the girl who found him. He starts learning about Earth and tries to blend in with humans.

This is set in an au without Voltron. Lotor is still the Prince of the Galra, but nothing else of canon is here. I imagine him being a curious guy and wanting to explore which brings him to Earth. I’m kind of unsure how I’d want everything to go from there, but I just wanted a normal alien/human romance if that makes sense.

💜 Death Note:

Diana is a college dropout this time, but has quite a lot of knowledge about technology and coding. She tries a lot of things and goes in different places. For some time she was very interested in true crime stories and of course found out about L. Somehow she managed to hack into his computer and decides to mess with him by suddenly closing his programs, misplacing his documents, annoying but harmless stuff. Ofc if anything L has tape on his camera, so she still doesn't know how he looks like. One time she wants to talk to him and she does through the notepad program. Most of their pre-relationship interactions are through Notepad and talking about unimportant stuff. When a difficult case comes up involving a computer virus L decides that he needs to take precautionary measures, aka secure his computer. And who better is for a job like that than the person who managed to hack into it in the first place. He only reveals himself to her really late when he decides he can trust her.

That was a little long lol.

Honestly this probably doesn't even make sense, but I don't care. I'm not much for mysteries and the stuff, I just want a nonsensical plot and a good time with L.

I just see them as really opposite but in a way that they have the thing the other lacks. Diana is more carefree and energetic, bringing L with her for different activities she is trying out, trying to make him experience life differently. L on the other hand is more serious and secretive, making Diana grounded on the matter at hand and become more cautious. I just see them developing a little while having fun. Sure, that fun is sometimes late night car rider and sometimes running for their lives from the killer.

This is obviously pre-canon and once we get into the canon timeline things will get more serious and sad but we're not talking about that.

💜 Bungou Stary Dogs:

Diana is best friends with Chuuya. They got close during their time with the Sheep and when Diana refused to betray Chuuya the way the others did they've stuck with each other ever since. Ofc that means she also got in the Port Mafia because of her ties with Chuuya and having an ability didn't hurt either (even if it was a little weak compared to the rest). She has the ability to control light, but she has to have a source from where the light is coming from. However she can use the heat from certain sources like sunlight, fire, candles, but the more damadge she wants to do the more energy she uses up. She is with the Black Lizard and is somewhat an assassin like Gin, and is friends with them. Even though she knows of Dazai and Akutagawa she isn't friends with them, but instead knows of the former from Chuuya (they are partners after all) and the latter from Gin. After Dazai left, Akutagawa starts training under Chuuya. They become friends and from that Akutagawa becomes friends with Diana. They become a somewhat weird trio but they are very tight and wouldn't trade it for a thing.

Honestly I love thinking of this ship mostly during post Dark Era but pre-canon. It just has the time to develop better. Once the canon timeline starts it kind of becomes a mess with some complications and ofc angst, but it still works out in the end.

Something like Gin, Diana has a different outfit for when she’s on the job, darker colors and all, but otherwise she has a softer style (sometimes looking like a mom lol)

The reason for her non-Japanese name is that both her parents are from Europe, but live in Japan.

(Pls help, I still don't have a tag for this ship)

💜 Harry Potter:

I’m kind of all over the place with this one tbh lol. At first I wanted a sweet Hufflepuff girl, maybe a half-blood, but then I got an idea for a squib s/i and I haven’t been able lot go of it. So for now I’m not going to give any details (because frankly there aren’t any lol), but if I ever need to answer an ask or to explain things about this ship I’m going with whatever background I feel like atm.

💜 Bakugan Battle Planet:

Also kind of unsure about this one, especially since idk if Magnus is a platonic or romantic f/o (kind of leaning towards platonic as of now tho). I haven’t caught up with the show either so when I do, I’ll probably make an insert then.

[deathavoided]

@dawnxtoxdusk​ said  “No offence meant, but I do not trust you to carve the turkey” - kouyou

Festive Prompts

A fake little pout formed on Dazai's lips when the other spoke such words. "I'm hurt, Kou. I have ya know I am wonderful with knives~" A Port Mafia Christmas, but anyone would be slightly hesitant in letting the executive carve the turkey or anything that required a knife. Afraid that he might turn it into some type of massacre , be it the turkey or for actual blood to be split. "I thought ya of all people would trust me." He was pretending so much to be hurt, but it wasn't like he needed to get the knife from the turkey if he truly wanted to do anything.

It was true the other always had a gun on him rather than a blade, but he could easily get a blade. Chuuya for example he could steal from from. He could easily get a scalpel from Mori or he could get from his personal collection of tortured tools. This was a smaller gathering of mostly the executives with a few honoured members besides the boss himself. "I'm harmless~" They had made sure he was not seated by Chuuya, but there were only so many spots that they could put the two and thus they were across from each other.

Though no one in the Port Mafia could be considered harmless in the slightest, especially when it came to executives. Dazai was also even less harmless when his darkness came out to play. "I mean I'm sure ya not the only one who doesn't trust me to do such~"