#i can feel bsd leaving my brain a bit more every day. it's been in there since end of april. what the fuck do i do now huh

[coffee-without-anesthetics]

oh this is No Bueno.

[despairots]

- at the top of my lungs, in my arms, she dies , #c. nakahara!

description, there’s a reason why chuuya never went to visit you. it’s been like that every since that fateful day of dazai jumping, leaving no goodbye to chuuya. he felt distraught, but he’s moving on, taking the lead of the port mafia boss. though, he’s wondering if you miss him.

story contains, suicide, swearing, mafia activities, character deaths, beast!bsd spoilers, unrequited love??, more like right person, not enough time, angst, etc. gender neutral! reader. drabble, short.

it’s terrifying that i never wrote about chuuya,,,, anyways my bsf is gonna watch bsd and im tryna gatekeep dazai and chuuya from him (i showed akutagawa to him so he can take him)

chuuya nakahara doesn’t remember the last time he visited you. he was piled in work, and a few work that dazai refused to take on and do, leaving it to chuuya. he’s stressed, i mean, who wouldn’t? he’s the port mafia boss.

he hasn’t seen you in a while, he’s too afraid to face you. thinking about all the guilt on leaving you would catch up to him, it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilty— he does— he doesn’t know if you’ll forgive him. he knows you’re a pretty forgiving person, until it’s someone you care about is hurting you a lot.

chuuya’s scared, in short words.

he remembers your touch, your leadership, your eyes, you don’t smile often, he misses it though. he cherishes you very much, if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be thinking of you this much.

he hasn’t seen you ever since dazai’s suicide, he misses you both (dazai, a little bit less). after all, you were chuuya’s first love, how couldn’t he miss you? everyday, chuuya wonders what would happen if you didn’t leave.

now, at the port mafia, he’s by himself. all alone. piled with work and the amount of mafioso’s that don’t know how to work. as much as he hates this job, it’s the only place he feels like he belongs in, his loyalty goes beyond.

he wants to see you, so much that it’s hurting him. kouyou could see the look of distraught on the boss, as an executive, she asks what’s wrong with him. they can’t have their boss in this type of state.

kouyou knows how much you mean to him, he has a picture of you in his office, a spider lily caged in a glass beside the photo. she could tell that chuuya loves you, very much so, until the very end.

she’s visited you here and there, telling you how chuuya is and how much he misses you, aswell as wanting to see you. she remembers the words that you’ll wait for him, no matter how long until he sees you.

you had told her not to tell chuuya, well, because maybe chuuya will hurry the process and be there as soon as possible. you wanted him to take his time, you’d wait forever for him, even in death.

“where are you going?” kouyou asks, the answer already in her head once she sees the port mafia boss turn around, holding a bouquet of red roses. “you wanna come with?” the sight makes kouyou widen her eyes a bit before she closes them and turns around.

“i already saw them.” she whispered softly, her heels clicking on the floor as chuuya nods and leaves the building, a black car appearing in front of him.

chuuya can’t remember your voice, he only has your voicemails. he can’t remember your smell either, he only has a few months left until all your clothing, bedsheets, pillows, and perfumes are gone.

the sight of your place comes into view, stepping out of the car and heading straight to yours, the guilt and excitement all rushing into his brain—

—until he steps infront of your grave. dropping the roses on your grave and seeing the left over flowers kouyou left for you. there’s a restrained look of sadness on his face as he stares down on your grave, the wind blowing past him.

he’s scared that you won’t forgive him, for not visiting you, for not being there for you when you needed him the most, and especially, not being strong enough to save you. he thinks that maybe he should’ve just stayed with you, to stop you from hurting yourself any longer.

it’s the life time guilt he has for not being able to forget you, he gave you up to fast and chuuya wants to experience the life of being with you again.

there’s a reason why chuuya never went to visit you.

it’s because you’re dead.

[lowestechelonabomination]

It's time for part 2 of my BSD sleep schedule analysis (Electric Boogaloo) (Port Mafia edition):

-Chuuya: sleep deprived, overworked, exhausted. Being the PM's strongest fighter and an exec, he's constantly being given more groups to fight, people to kill, and reports to write. Probably doesn't get many breaks either. He has a large salary and spends it on a lot of fancy things, but he really just doesn't have the time to admire them. He probably has all of his possessions spread across a lot of different apartments/safe houses and doesn't really have just one to call his home since he's always on the move. He probably only gets around 3 hours of sleep on average but never gets the chance to crash from exhaustion, and so just kinda has to live with the feeling of about-to-pass-out. On the occasion he does get an actual break that isn't a free hour or two to spend talking to colleagues at a bar he just collapses on a couch with some wine and sleeps for as long as he can, though Kouyou will drag him out for spa days every few weeks or so. Gravity manipulation seems very tiring as well, so he definitely has a lot of exhaustion-induced physical pain (from muscle sores and the like) on top of being mentally drained all the time. Add that to existential crises and never feeling human and you get a certified mess

-Akutagawa: give! him! a! break! too! Rather than having a huge workload, he probably gives himself extra things to do in order to avoid feeling weak and worthless. He's conditioned himself into believing that any moment not spent doing "useful things" makes him completely weak, so he forces himself to constantly fight. He's extremely sleep deprived and exhausted but refuses to receive help because he also views that as "succumbing to weakness". His physical health is already not great, so he probably ends up in the infirmary frequently because he just straight up collapsed during a mission after not sleeping for two days. He probably overthinks everything at night, so hello insomnia! leave him alone. Akutagawa also probably neglects things like eating and maintaining his health simply because he forgets from always fighting, and, if it weren't for Gin (and the other Black Lizard members) he'd not even be functioning. Probably only sleeps for like 5 hours a week and has permanent, chronic brain fog and fatigue from everything he does. Relies on Rashoumon to fight so much because he himself is too physically weak to fight. Probably also uses Rashoumon as a hidden support to keep himself upright. Tea is his main source of caffeine, but he will chug energy drinks if he deems it necessary. Overall, just,,, give him a break, forcefully (PS I actually have a fic on this exact thing if you want to read it)

-Kouyou: mildly sleep deprived, but mostly normal. Likes having me-time frequently, and so has most of her fatigue eased by things like spas. Gets around 6 hours of sleep most of the time, 8-11 on free days, but will pull an all-nighter or two whenever she needs to. I really don't know enough about her subordinates, but she probably trusts them to take care of things themselves and is rarely called into action

-Mori: being the PM Boss probably means he gets a lot of work and negotiations to sort through, but he generally takes care of it quickly enough. He prefers delegating the work to others rather than doing it himself, so he has a lot of time on his hands to just kinda...do whatever, I guess? I'd assume he gets like 5-8 hours of sleep generally, so he's probably fine for the most part

-Hirotsu: he is tired. Having to take care of so many unruly teenagers over the years couldn't have been healthy for him at all. Cigarettes ease the exhaustion a bit for him, but not by much. He drinks a lot of fine teas and coffee to stay functional. He frequently has to stop Black Lizard members from doing stupid things, like Higuchi recklessly pursuing Akutagawa, Gin trying to stab Tachihara, etc. Any time Tachihara calls him Gramps he ages 50 years. He just wants to go home

-Higuchi: one day she discovered caffeine and has never stopped drinking it since then. She's pretty much always hyped up on energy drinks or coffee in order to work as much as she can to prove that she isn't useless, and also to distract herself from negative thoughts. She got tired of spending so much time wallowing around in the dark of her bedroom so she decided to invest in tons of caffeine to the point where she's basically vibrating with energy at all times. She also needs a break, please give her a break

-Gin: most of her missions are at night, so she mostly sleeps during the day, or just whenever she can. Generally isn't as tired, but she lives with Akutagawa (who is a mess), so she received fatigue by osmosis. Really just fed up with how pointlessly self-destructive her brother is and is considering locking him inside a room with a bunch of pillows and nothing to do except for sleeping for two days straight. Frequently has nightmares when asleep. She's a mafioso, but the years of blood staining her hands keep her up with guilt

-Tachihara: I still haven't really read the manga so I don't even know what to put for this, but I'd assume he also has a caffeine addiction and sleeps for maybe 5 hours a day

-Q: no sleep, constant nightmares, afraid of closing their eyes and having to see what their mind throws at them. Most of their time is spent curled around their doll on the cold floor of the cage they're kept in. please,,,,just save them,,,,,,

-Kajii: thinks he invented super caffeine and convinced himself he doesn't need sleep to survive (he does). Will stay up for days on end making bombs or whatever it is he does and then abruptly collapse. Doesn't see anything wrong with this and believes that it's just a side effect of so much science (it isn't). He's both really smart and really stupid but everyone's too scared of being blown up to say anything to him

[narrators-journal]

Months of tolerance

So, I was looking back at my ranpoe valentines story and I got an idea. Why not write a little collection? A little trio or so of Valentines-themed sort of ship stories?

And so, I wrote a second one for Shin-soukoku! Though, please be forgiving, I’m not a super big fan of Atsushi, so I don’t have a lot of ideas and experience on how he works and behaves, so I kinda took inspiration from the rp me and my friend did for BSD and their sort of rendition of Atsushi mixed with canon.

Atsushi had never really experienced Valentines day or White day, so when Dazai offered to take him out on one of his days off and introduce him to the basics of the event he accepted it. He was quick to find it to be a bit depressing.            “Dazai, I don't think I have any real...reason to be here," The tiger sighed, putting down one of the little Valentines bears he'd been looking at in the shop and looking over at the bandage-clad brunette that was to be his mentor in the ADA. The rail of a man just pouted at him,            "Nonsense, Atsushi! You're learning about romance," he assured, giving the white-haired man a sweet smile, which made Atsushi grimace,            "Yeah, but this holiday is obviously for couples, and I don't have any romantic partner of any sort," He pointed out, a stone of loneliness settling in the bottom of his stomach as he spoke, but his mentor simply snorted as if that point was moot.            "Sushi, you don't need a romantic partner to celebrate Valentines day, you can just as easily get gifts for friends. After all, I don't have a partner but I'm gonna get a gift for someone." He assured, and while the tiger was still a bit unsure, he just nodded.

After that, he just went back to milling around up and down the aisle as he poked at the little toys, knick knacks, or sweets scattered about until Dazai clapped his hands together in an idea,          "Atsushi! I have an idea for what you can do on Valentines day!" he chirped, bouncing on his feet in some childish, giddy high, "Why not get a gift for Ryuunosuke!" The tiger blinked and scowled at the idea,          "Why the hell would I do that? I don't have any sort of feelings for him," he about spat, almost feeling his lip curl in a snarl at the mere mention of the wheezing, gothic, Dazai fanboy. However, the brunette simply rolled his eyes at his venom,          "There is a very common phrase, 'kill your enemies with kindness', you ever hear it?" before the weretiger could answer, he continued, "Akutagawa doesn't like you. At all. Hates your guts. But! If you get him a gift, maybe be as friendly as you can be, you can get him to warm up to you!" the weretiger's scowl only deepened, which made his mentor huff and drop the excited, bubbly tone, "If you get him to like you, you won't have to spend quite as much on shirts every week." Atsushi ended up buying a cheap little gift for the goth. However, that now left him with a question. How was he to get the cheap plush cat to Akutagawa? He'd been pondering the question all through out the three days that led up to Valentines day, going back and forth on whether or not he should even bother with Dazai's stupid idea. Is it really worth risking getting stabbed again? Just to give this cheap little thing to a bastard like Akutagawa? He thought bitterly, though his cheeks burned a slight pink while he glared down at the floppy little beanie baby cat that was sprawled out on his meager little coffee table, staring up at the tiger with glassy amber eyes while he sat on his couch the evening before Valentines day. I'd sooner drink my own piss then give Akutagawa a Valentines gift. He told himself firmly, getting up from his couch and plucking the toy from the cheap table to get rid of it. To do this, he threw it out of his livingroom window into the darkness of the cold night and listened to it land in the dumpster across the street with a soft thud thanks to how hard he'd thrown it. And, with that, he shut his window with a decisive 'humph' and went to bed. Dazai was a smart man, but Atsushi was not going to have conflicting and confusing feelings plague him just to placate a violent asshole with a hateboner for him. An hour later, the tiger went out to the dumpster he'd heard the cat slam against and dug the poor thing out to be washed. Not that the weretiger had changed his mind or anything, he'd just spent money on the derpy little toy, he didn't want to waste it. Or, so he told himself. So, he instead returned it to his bedside table after washing it a few times, trying to see if he could somehow rub the new crack out of his amber eye while doing his best to get the dumpster stench out of its fur. If he really was going to 'kill Akutagawa with kindness' like Dazai said, the least he could do was make sure the gift didn't reek of three day old take out and dog vomit. When the next day came, he took the toy to work, then walked home with it draped over his arm after a day of dealing with petty couple squabbles that had turned nasty, or helping Ranpo to and from the smattering of robberies he'd been requested on. Y'know, this just proves why I should've kept this thing in the garbage, he fumed to himself, staring at the sidewalk ahead of him so he didn't see even more lovey-dovey couples for the day, If I gave this to Akutagawa somehow, all that would happen is I'd be a statistic. Nothing more. He hates me too much, it'd probably off- Atsushi's ill-tempered thoughts were cut short when he ran into someone else on the sidewalk, sending them both sprawling to the pavement.           "O-oh my god! I'm so sorry, are you hurt miss?!" The weretiger squeaked, hopping up to his feet at record speeds to offer a hand to the pretty lady in white. She had long black hair, and a familiar style of dress on, but it was her light, steel-colored eyes that finally got her face to click in the frazzled tiger's irrational mind.          "Oh!...Gin, right?" he asked as she took his hand and let him help her up while she nodded,          "Sorry, I didn't mean to run you over," she said, her voice as quiet as the first time he'd met her with Katai and Kunikida, but her words shot a nebulous sort of anxiety into his veins,         "Oh, no no no, it was my fault, I wasn't looking where I-I was going," he stammered, trying desperately to comfort her as he reached to dust her off, but then changed his mind half way, doing that would be super weird, so he instead tried to think up another way to make up for running into her. He felt awful for knocking her over, but had no clue what to do, so he just ended up putting a hand over his anxious heart and staying quiet. Gin, meanwhile, had spotted the saggy stuffed toy on the sidewalk,           "Um, is that yours?" She asked, picking it up and dusting the little thing off gently, snapping Atsushi out of his thoughts,          "What? Oh! Yeah, that's...actually, I bought it for...Akutagawa." he admitted, not knowing what else to say to explain why he had a stuffed cat. Gin blinked at him, raising an eyebrow,           "No offense, but why did you buy my brother a toy? Is it for Valentines day?" Atsushi gaped for a moment, for some reason his brain struggling to give even the simplest answer for a moment,          "I...D-Dazai suggested getting him a gift..." he muttered, his cheeks beginning to heat up as he spoke, which Gin seemed to notice, but she said nothing,          "Well, how about I deliver it to him? He likes cats, I'm sure he'd enjoy this one," she offered sweetly instead, and for a moment Atsushi could only stare at her while his cheeks undoubtedly glowed a healthy pink until he cleared his throat, get yourself together Atsushi! This is a fine way to get the damned gift to Akutagawa, then Dazai can get off your ass, he told himself, pushing down the weird flustered feeling in his chest,         "Um, t-that would be helpful," She nodded, smiling a bit at the toy cat. With that, she wished him well as the sky darkened from the yellow-purple gradient of Atsushi's eyes, to a dark, star-speckled blue, leaving the tiger to walk home and contemplate his day. For the next few days, the weretiger was on edge, just waiting for the wheezing goth to pop out from behind every corner ready to stab him. However, it never happened. Atsushi was expecting it, always at the ready to defend himself, but for the entire month he didn't even see his nemesis on jobs, let alone when he was walking home or too work. So, he began to relax. Maybe he really did enjoy the stuffed toy, he thought a month or so later on his walk home from the ADA. The thought brought an odd warm feeling to his chest, but he was swift to stomp the detested feeling back down into that part of himself he refused to acknowledge. He could accept his tiger, but he was not ready to face anything like that emotion. Then, something slammed into the side of his head. In an instant, Atsushi was knocked onto the sidewalk with his world swimming for a moment or two. In those moments, he laid there in a daze, forced to wait for his senses to return and the throbbing ache in his skull to die before he could finally stumble to his feet. When the pain stopped and he could bare to stand once again, the white-haired man looked around for what might've hit him in the head, but the only thing he found was a can of soda. A soda that, upon closer inspection, he found to be one of his favorites, which was weird enough, since usually his favorite soft drink doesn't fly at people's heads, but, no one was currently around to explain why an unopened, very dented can of his preferred soda was rolling around at his feet after knocking him on his ass like it had. He'd tried to look around, taking advantage of his improved night vision to try and spot anyone trying to hide from the blame for throwing it at him, but the street was currently sparse in other people in the area. However, after a moment of thinking, and examining the near-bursting can, it slowly dawned on the tiger who might've thrown it. Then, the date set in, bringing a stronger wave of hot embarrassment to his cheeks.           "Um?? T-thanks I guess?" he called out into the swiftly growing darkness, and then swiftly continued home, before the hiding goth caught sight of the way his cheeks tinged a small shade of pink or decided to come out to maul him for acknowledging him.

[patchwork-panda]

“I won’t do anything. Probably.” (BSD OdaSaku x Reader. Part 1/3)

Title: “I won’t do anything. Probably” Genre: Comedy/Romance/smut Rating: Part 1 is sfw BUT Part 3 will 18+ (aka nsfw) Reader-insert is written as afab/femme/shorter than OdaSaku and 20+ Plot: You are a member of the Port Mafia who has been sent on a “cleanup” job with Oda Sakunosuke, who you have a crush on but won’t admit it. You don’t finish the job until very late at night, at which point, you’re forced to check into a hotel. But there’s just one problem: There’s only one room left. And only one bed.

Mini Fic is written in 2nd person. AO3 link for fic: HERE

Inspired by the [OdaSaku] art of Tsumugi (@tumugi1 on Twitter). I saw this picture and my brain latched onto the whole, “I won’t do anything. Probably.” bit. And wrote a whole fic for it as I was falling asleep on the 24th and amazingly, KEPT writing it when I woke up on the 25th. So, here it is. Call it a belated Xmas gift bc it feels almost like Old Saint Nick dropped it into my head like a filthy piece of coal.

“You’re kidding me.”

The guy at the front desk shakes his head apologetically.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he mumbles, clearly looking every bit as remorseful as he sounds.

He shoots another nervous look at the gun holstered on your hip before catching himself and quickly looking back into your eyes.

He gulps.

Audibly.

“But there really aren’t any more rooms.”

You sigh and take your arm off of the counter. You’d considered draping it over the receptionist’s monitor in an effort to look more intimidating, but when you’d realized your arms were a little too short for that, you’d settled for the counter instead. Luckily for you, though, that one simple motion had been enough to reveal your gun.

Even now, the receptionist looked like he was going to pee himself, but even though your intimidation attempt had been successful, it still hadn’t gotten you the results you wanted.

Oh, well.

At least Nakahara-senpai would be proud of the way you’d conducted yourself just now.

The man you were with, however...

“Well?” you call out, tilting your head back slightly to look at him. “You heard what he said. What do you think we should do?”

You frown.

“Oda-senpai?”

The tall redhead looks up from his phone at last.

“Well, that depends,” he said, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

His sapphire-blue eyes find yours.

“How tired are you?” he asks.

You stop stifling your yawn immediately.

Today was a weird day. Even by your standards. And you were a teenaged runaway who’d gotten picked up by the Port Mafia several years ago.

Ever since that fateful day when you’d made the stupid decision to steal from that convenience store (how were you supposed to know a dump like that was a front for the Port Mafia?), they’d taken you in, given you a place to stay and a purpose. And that purpose was “doing whatever the hell it was they wanted you to do.”

Today, that was one of their infamous “clean-up” jobs.

You’d been on these sorts of jobs before so you didn’t think of it as a big deal at the time. But then they’d handed you the list. Which was a lot longer than it usually was. And then, they’d given you the location.

You hadn’t been sent this far out of Yokohama since that one time Nakahara Chuuya himself had requested you for backup. And even then, it had been an exception. Unfortunately, unlike that time, today’s job wasn’t quick. In fact, it had taken far, far longer than you had expected and you’d ended up working until late into the night.

So late into the night that all the trains back to Yokohama had long since stopped running.

And then it started pouring.

You are now effectively stranded for the night.

You sigh.

There was one bright spot...

You eye the man standing across the lobby, who takes his phone back out one more time in hopes of locating a cell signal.

At least they’d sent Oda Sakunosuke along with you.

“I’m okay,” you say, ignoring the fact that you’d just been yawning not two seconds ago. “Really.”

“Uh-huh,” Oda responds, his bright blue eyes flicking away from his phone once more to scan your face. “So you’re not here to see if you can find a place to rest for the night? You just wanted to get out of the rain until the first train comes?”

It doesn’t quite come across as sarcastic but you’re really not sure what else to call his tone. Humorless, perhaps? It’s hard to tell. Oda is pretty stoic on a normal day and you’ve almost never seen him smile. For one wild moment, you begin to wonder if he’s actually teasing you.

But then you remember you are talking to Oda Sakunosuke.

This is nothing more than a simple, honest question.

He puts his phone away and approaches the counter.

“Either way, walking into this hotel wasn’t a bad idea,” he says, reaching into one of the many pockets in his pale, yellow coat. “I wasn’t exactly looking forward to camping under a bridge in this weather.”

You note the big, muddy footprints his shoes leave in his wake.

The receptionist behind the counter can clearly see them but he looks like he’s still too scared to say anything about it.

Oda leans onto the counter next to you.

“I think we should stay here,” he says. “There’s no way we’re getting back to Yokohama any time soon and besides...”

He lets out a massive yawn. You think you can see a tear glistening in the corner of his eye.

“I’m tired too.”

“But you heard what he said,” you press, as the receptionist jerks away from you (and your gun). “There’s only one room.”

“Yeah, so that means there is a place we can take a nap here,” he says, already pulling out his wallet. “And the fact that there’s only one room here means we can save some money. I know what it means for those of us who get sent out on jobs like this.”

He picks out a card.

“It means we can stand to save a few bucks. Anyway, don’t worry about it.”

He lays the slate-gray piece of plastic against the counter.

“I’ll pay for tonight, okay?”

For a moment, you’re struck speechless.

“Th-that’s not the problem,” you stutter.

Oda just looks at you.

“So, then what is?”

You wonder if one of the hits he’d taken on today’s job had actually done something to his brain.

How could he not see it?

Having a man pay for your hotel room was already bad enough. But the implications of a tall, broad-shouldered, sexy man like Oda Sakunosuke paying  for a shared a hotel room with you??

You swallow dryly, hoping against hope that your cell phone wasn’t bugged and that if it was, there was no signal here.

If word got out that you spent the night in a cheap hotel with Oda Sakunosuke, a man who had the kind of rugged charm that would put Clint Eastwood to shame, you would never hear the end of it. You could already see Ozaki Kouyou smirking at you from behind one long pink kimono sleeve the minute you got back to headquarters.

And “I’ll pay for it tonight” he says?!!

As if this whole thing couldn’t SEEM any more suspicious!

You shoot a menacing glare at the receptionist, as if to say “don’t you dare get any ideas.” But the message appears to go right over his head when he sinks just a little further below the counter in abject fear.

“The problem is,” you elaborate, stunned that you even have to say it out loud. “That we’d be sleeping. In the same room.”

Oda continues to just look at you.

“So?”

You make up your mind to ask the Boss to check Oda for brain damage when you get back tomorrow. Mori used to be a doctor, right?

Oda sighs.

“Listen,” he says, sliding his card towards the receptionist, nodding kindly to the young man as if he were a timid baby bird instead of a grown human being. “I know what you’re thinking. And I thought about it too.”

He what?!

Without meaning to, you flush but Oda doesn’t appear to take any notice.

“But it’ll be fine. No matter how you look at it, we’re clearly just a couple of colleagues--”

“Clearly??”

“--who got stranded away from home while out on a business trip,” he finishes, taking his card back from the trembling receptionist. “So, like I said. It’ll be fine. I mean, we’re just sleeping right? We’re both responsible adults. I think we can handle just sleeping next to each other in the same room.”

He looks at you.

“Don’t you?”

You stiffen. Your eyes dart to the key card on the counter that the receptionist is now inching further and further away from. You’d think it was radioactive from the way he was acting...

“I--”

Oda raises an eyebrow.

“Unless...”

Oda inclines his head back towards the windows, where you can now see the rain lashing against the thick glass in the gale.

“You want to camp out under a bridge? Because if you do, I can go with you--”

“No, I definitely don’t,” you tell him, sweeping the key card up in one hand.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch the receptionist take another step away from you as you move. You roll your eyes.

“Let’s just go. It’s late, it’s raining, we’re both tired and you know what, you’re right. As long as you stay in your bed, on your side of the room, I don’t think we’re going to have a problem.”

And as you march down the hallway towards the elevators, you suddenly hear the receptionist calling after you.

“Ah, wait!”

The young man suddenly sounds alarmed.

“There’s only--”

“Hah?”

You turn and shoot him a look and he immediately clams up again, quailing behind the counter.

“N-never mind,” he mumbles, twiddling his fingers as he tries (unsuccessfully) not to look at your gun.

He shoots you a watery smile.

“H-Have a pleasant stay...”

[lady-une]

BSD Ch 15

Holy cow man, I can’t believe I have not updated this story in over a year. I want to first thank all of you for even still holding out for this update. It’s been a crazy year for us with everything that is going on. We just have to hold out hope a little bit longer. I understand that there is a lot of hate for Seungri right now and a lot of people are believing in what the media is feeding them, but I am still holding out hope and won’t put my blind faith in the media who only lives to drag people through the dirt. I won’t get into my stance on everything going on, this is not the place for that. But if you are not a fan then please just move on. I am and will always be ot5. But anyways, please enjoy this chapter. I deleted this many times because it wasn’t and still isn’t up to par with previous chapters. Just leave me some love if you do like it and if you don’t leave me some constructive cristicm in the comments. Thanks.

He thought their love was eternal, that nothing would be able to break them apart. He put his trust and faith in the man he loved with all his heart. The one man he thought would never hurt him, did it in the most horrific way possible. How will he move on, having to see the man who broke his heart day in and day out. Having to see him smile and look at another the way he once did him. If had known this was his destiny all along, he would never had started on this path to begin with.

Word count: 3197

Theme: Angst

Rating: Mature, SMUT, Drinking

Pairing: Kwon Jiyong x Seungri

Master List

Chapter 1

The first few weeks out of the hospital was not at all what Seungri expected. His bandmates were still doing their tour but whenever they were home someone was always there checking on him. It wouldn’t have bothered him as much if he wasn’t already being watched like a small infant. Besides his parents and sister always being around, Mino was there checking on him daily and Jiyong had a nurse coming to check on him.

That was probably the thing he didn’t understand, why was his leader so worried about him? Yes, it made sense for Jiyong to worry since he was the leader, but he was going above and beyond what a group leader would do. Every time Seungri tried to think of a reason for Jiyong to be so concerned about him his head would become fuzzy and he would stop.

Being home in the apartment without anyone there was like a mini vacation, Seungri felt like he could finally breathe. Most of the time he would walk around just looking at things. The doctors said he had partial amnesia, but he was able to remember mostly everything but every now and then he would have parts he couldn’t remember. Walking into the guest room he sat on the bed and tried to think of a reason why he would be in the guest room and not his own. The first night he had tried to sleep back in his room but couldn’t fall asleep, so he ended up going right back to the guest room where he fell into a deep sleep easily. Clearly there was something about the room that made him uncomfortable.

Slowly as the days went on Seungri was able to leave his apartment, choosing to head back to the studio as he wanted to be productive instead of being lazy at home. Mino was always there with him, Seungri’s heart fluttered when he was around. Mino made sure he was eating right and taking rests when needed. The way he cared about Seungri was sweet, a fuzzy feeling would always brush over him as if there was a memory on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t get it. It was as if there was another person who had made him feel this way, but he couldn’t remember who it was.

Sitting on the oversized plush chair that he could not remember ever seeing in the studio Seungri was going over some notebooks he had found. They were journals of his feelings, reading them tore at his heart and his head would hurt but he pushed through hoping that they would help him make sense of things. The journals were clearly from before the accident and current. Someone had hurt him beyond repair. Reaching to the table next to him he grabbed another notebook and started writing. Seungri thought maybe if he were to make these into songs that they would help him recover part of his missing memory.

Standing outside the door peaking in Jiyong watched Seungri writing away, happy that he was sitting comfortably in the chair instead of those ass breaking chairs. If Seungri was going to be coming into the studio to work, then he wanted him to be as comfortable as can be. Lifting his hand he placed it on the window, he wanted nothing more than to be in there with him. He wanted to feel Seungri’s hand on his own.

“Hello hyung.”

Jiyong closed his eyes and counted to ten before turning around to see Mino behind him.

“Seungri is writing again, I can’t wait to see what he comes up with. Are you excited too hyung? I bet it will be something heartbreaking with how he is pulling from his journals as inspiration.”

“Watch it Mino.”

“I watch a lot hyung. I watch him do everything he can with a smile. I watch him laugh at home and watch him get frustrated when watching a tv show. I get to watch everything. What do you get to watch?”

Jiyong could feel the anger building up inside him. He hated that it was Mino who was getting to watch everything firsthand meanwhile he had to sit on the sideline. It should have been him there along side Seungri, but his own stupid selfishness kept him from being there.

“Well if you excuse me hyung, I should see if Seungri needs anything.”

Mino pushed passed Jiyong to enter the room and the sound of his voice as he greeted Seungri was too sweet and made Jiyong want to vomit. Peering into the room he watched Mino bend down to hug Seungri and watched him place a kiss on his cheek. Clenching his hand into a fist Jiyong could see Mino looking up at him as he planted that kiss, the look in his eye was a challenge to Jiyong. If the younger man wanted to challenge him then he would play along. He would get back Seungri if it was the last thing he would do.

“Hyung how is the music coming?” Mino ask pulling back after watching Jiyong storm off from the door and sat down across from Seungri.

“It is coming along well, it’s rather sad. I don’t know if it is something that should even see the light of day.”

“Don’t say that, it’s good that we have a mixture of emotions in the music. We can’t always be happy every second of the day. Plus, our fans need music to listen to when they are broken hearted.”

“True, but I really wish I could remember who made me this way. I know you all know who it was but none of you want to tell me. Why won’t you tell me?”

“The doctor has told us that you need to figure that out on your own. That if we were to tell you it would be a shock to your system. Your brain isn’t ready for you to remember that, when it is time you will.”

“I know you all keep tell me that, but I am tire of waiting.”

“Hyung you spent months in a coma, you can wait until your body is ready. Let’s just enjoy the time we have before all the memories come back.”

Seungri just nodded his head, clearly Mino was not going to give up anything. Just like the other members no one was willing to help him out. Maybe if he were to get them drinking it might help loosen those tight lips. Setting the notebook down Seungri grabbed his phone and sent a message to the group chat asking if they would like to get a drink tonight. Quickly the responses came in that of course they would love to. Smiling Seungri put down his phone, he would get answers soon.

Mino and Seungri pulled up to the restaurant and allowed valet to park the car. Walking in they were greeted before being taken to the back private room. The closer they got to the room he could hear the loud laughter of a certain bingu. Upon entering the room Seungri looked around as his bandmates and smiled when he spotted an open bottle of wine already on the table. No doubt the reason for the loud laughing.

“Our Maknae has arrived!” Daesung sand out as he got out of his seat and danced over to him causing Seungri to break out into his own laughter.

“What you don’t like my dancing?”

“I loved your dancing, but you reminded me of the time Jiyong hyung had to pretend to be a girl and dance.”

Daesung gasped and lightly slapped Seungri on the chest, “How could you say that, I dance more gracefully then our leader.”

“Yeah Maknae how could you say that about Daesung, he dances very seductively when he needs to.” The oldest member said as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Daesung covered his face in hope to hide the blush that was quickly spreading over his body. Seungri and Mino moved out of the doorway and over to the table and sat down next to Youngbae.

“So how is the music coming along?” Youngbae asked.

“It is going well hyung, rather sad but well. I should have the first song’s lyrics down and then I will only need some beats to go with it.”

“Well leave it up to Jiyong, I bet he will find something to go with your words.”

“Speaking of Jiyong, where is he?” Seungri asked as he looked again around the table and noticed his absence.

“Oh he got called away for a meeting but he might show up later if need be.”

“Ok.”

“Enough talk lets eat!” Seunghyun shouted in his drunken state.

The drinks flowed the whole night as everyone ate happily. They talked about the concert and how much the fans missed Seungri. They talked about Youngbae and what is like to be a parent. Seungri lit up every time Youngbae brought up his child, he wanted nothing more than to have his own child one day. He knew it was going to be hard, society won’t take lightly to a gay man wanting to adopt a baby. Yet he knew he didn’t want to live in hiding his whole life.

It was around 11pm when he knew the other members were very much intoxicated along with Mino as Mino was drinking everything that was offered to Seungri. Seunghyun was slurring his words and trying to get Daesung to get up and dance with him to music that no one could hear. Youngbae was happily smiling on at the two love birds who were in their own little world. Mino was resting his head on his hand, half aware of everything and half asleep. Now would be the time if he were to ever get answers.

“Yah bingu hyung.” Seungri called out.

Seunghyun stopped trying to pull Daesung from his chair and looked over at Seungri, his eyes barely open.

“I was wondering if you could help me with something?”

“You need help from the best dancer of this group?” He playfully said as he moved his hips.

Seungri laughed, “Not right now but I was hoping you could help clear something up for me?”

“Of course, you tell your hyung what it is, and I will help you.” Seunghyun said as he sat down in his chair.

“Well as I was working on my music, I was reading my journals and wondering who caused me to feel this pain.”

“The person is a bad person. You don’t need to worry about him.”

“But hyung who is he?”

“A bad bad man. Don’t worry about it. Here have a drink and forget about him.”

It was then that Mino shot his head up to grab the shot and downing it before face planting onto the table. Clearly that was the shot that broke the camel’s back.

“Yeah Maknae don’t worry about the past.” Youngbae pipped up before yawning.

“But hyungs I deserve to know.”

“You will when it is time. Just relax. I am going to use the restroom and check in at home.”

Youngbae stood and walked out the door or rather stumbled out the door. Daesung hummed in agreement as he laid his head on the table and nuzzled next to Seunghyun’s arm that was on the table.

“Hyung wouldn’t you want to know who hurt you? How about you just give me clues. You won’t have to say the name but you can give me an idea of who it is.”

“Hmmmm maybe. Not a lot and I won’t tell you who it is.”

“Good, go ahead with the first clue.”

“He is older than you.”

“Ok, not too helpful.”

“He is in the music industry.”

“Is he under our label.”

“Yes.”

“Ok next clue?”

“He can dance.”

“Well clearly if he is under our label. Even the actors can dance.”

“He can drink really well.”

Seungri rubbed his neck, these clues were not helpful at all.

“He charmed his way into your life at an early point. He was fiercely protective of you and loved you deeply.”

“Well apparently not if I go based off my journals.”

“What can I say he is an idiot. Anyone around you guys could see how much that man loved you. I don’t really understand why myself as to the real reason he did what he did. He told us why and told you why but it just doesn’t make sense.”

“Ok, what does he look like?”

“He is average height I guess. He has black hair and big feet. Most of the time he has a scowl on his face but that is just who he is recently.”

“Can you tell me what his name starts with or his sur name?”

“That would be cheating.” Seunghyun sang out.

“But hyung none of these clues are helpful, you just described the majority of the men at our label. Hell you just described Hyung-suk himself!”

Seunghyun shook with a look of disgust on his face as if he had just eaten something awful.

“Fine he goes by two names.”

“What are those names?”

“One of the alias names is..”

Before Seunghyun could utter the name the door to the private room swung open with an angry looking Jiyong holding up a very tired and drunk looking Youngbae.

“What the hell is going on here?” Jiyong shouted.

Seungri and Seunghyun both looked at Jiyong with a smile on their faces before they both said “Nothing” in unison.

“Nothing? This doesn’t look like nothing. Who let Youngbae drink? You know he can’t handle his alcohol.”

Jiyong looked around the room to see Daesung passed out and drooling next to Seunghyun. Next to Seungri laid Mino who was lightly snoring away.

“I think it may be time for everyone to get home and get some rest.” Jiyong said as he tried to deescalate his own emotions. He wasn’t sure if he should have let the elder member tell Seungri or if he should leave it up to Seungri to figure things out. Walking over to a chair Jiyong deposited Youngbae before walking out to settle the tab.

As he was paying the tab he could feel Seungri near him before he heard him.

“Hyung I should be paying, it was my idea to have everyone come out.”

“None sense. Let me pay for this.”

“But hyung….”

“Did you have fun tonight maknae?” Jiyong asked in a gentle voice.

“I did, even if Mino didn’t let me drink. How was your meeting?”

Jiyong thought back to his meeting as he ordered some drivers to take the members home. “It was ok, but I would have rather been here with you.”

Seungri felt his heart flutter quickly, it surprised him.

“Well you’re a businessman so of course you would have to go to the meeting.”

“The meeting was boring compared to the fun it looks like you guys had.”

Jiyong moved closer to Seungri and grabbed his hand and walked back towards the private room.

“Hyung.” Seungri quietly said.

“Hmm.” Jiyong answered.

“Will you tell me who the guy is that hurt me?”

“I can’t maknae.”

“But hyung why not? I almost had a good clue before you opened the door. You owe me now.” Seungri said sternly looking up dead in the eyes of Jiyong.

Jiyong smiled, he enjoyed this playful tiger-panda that Seungri was. He was going to enjoy this as much as possible. Move closer to Seungri he enclosed him between his to hands pinning him against the wall next to the door.

“If I give you that clue maknae what will you give me?” Jiyong asked in a whisper.

“Whatever you want hyung.” Seungri stuttered out. His heart was racing, and he could feel this emotion stirring inside him. It was a feeling of being prey, as if he was caught but at the same time it was exciting.

Jiyong moved in closer to Seungri leaning in next to his ear and whispered, “Don’t say whatever if you don’t plan on following through.”

Seungri gasped as he felt Jiyong’s breath against his ear, he could feel his pants start to get tighter as he became aroused.

“Hyung..” He breathless whispered.

Jiyong moved closer and put his knee between Seungri’s legs. He knew what he was doing, Seungri’s weakness was his ear. It was the one thing Jiyong could count on for helping him get what he wanted.

“Yes maknae?” Jiyong whispered again before ghosting his lips over Seungri’s neck.

Seungri let out a low moan, his member was fully hard now and he worried that Jiyong would feel it. The fear he had was confirmed when Jiyong also pressed his own hard member against Seungri.

“What do you need Ri? Tell me and I will give it to you.”

“Hyung please…” Seungri moaned out as he began to rock against Jiyong.

Jiyong growled lowly as he felt Seungri rock against him. It had been so long for him since the two had been this way. He wanted nothing more than to take him right then and there, media be damned. He was ready to claim what should be his.

“Tell me Ri, use your words. I can’t read your mind as much as I wish I could. I would love to know what dirty little thoughts you might have locked up inside that brain of yours.”

“I…I…I need..” Seungri could barely form a sentence, his need to find out who the mystery man is was battling the need for release.

“Just tell me, I will do anything you want.” Jiyong repeated as he placed gentle kiss on the Seungri’s neck.

“Touch me.”

That was all he needed. Jiyong moved one hand down to Seungri’s hard member and began palming it. The minute his hand made contact with Seungri, Seungri lost all control to stand upright. Jiyong had to quickly support Seungri as he was rubbing him. Seungri hid his face in Jiyong’s shoulder as he enjoyed every bit of what was going on. He could feel his orgasm rushing forward. It would take much longer, he just needed Jiyong to keep rubbing him.

“Don’t stop…” Seungri moaned out.

“Never.” Jiyong replied.

The hot feeling was rushing forward up Seungri’s body, grasping onto his Jiyong’s shoulder with his hands he bit down waiting for the orgasm to hit.

“Where the fuck are you two?” Seunghyun shouted as he opened the door.

Seungri in his startled state pushed Jiyong away from him and stuttered out “Right here hyung, we were order the drivers.”

“Good, good. I need to get Daesung in bed or he will be crabby tomorrow.”

“Well let’s head out, I am sure the drivers are here.”

Seungri walked over to the eldest member with a half-smile.

“Maknae are you ok? You look flushed? You’re not getting sick are you?”

Jiyong stood there as the two disappeared into the room. Being cock blocked by a drunk Seunghyun is by far the worst thing. Moving his hand down to his pants to readjust had him thinking otherwise, dealing with blue balls is much worse than that.

[kinghe]

Hi @lawriette, I am your bsd secret santa! \o/ Merry Christmas (and Happy New Year)!!! Thank you so so much for being so sweet and lovely and patient, I really hope this fic is suitable to your tastes <3 ;;

warnings: injuries/blood, implications of violence and torture

beverages and bandages

There is a sway in Dazai’s walk. Not too worrying as it seems more a jovial stride than anything. But, Oda realises, every now and then, Dazai’s breath hitches a little. He’s equally quick to repair it, but this only made room for genuine concern. It leads Oda to believe Dazai is alleviating the weight off his left side, that he must have gotten wounded from his latest mission. 

Oda doesn’t speak up on it. It just means if they end up drinking tonight, they’re better off sitting down.

But Dazai answers his questions without being prompted.

It happened a day after his last mission, Oda eventually learns. It was too dark for Dazai to see around the apartment, and he had knocked an empty bottle off the counter before stepping on the shattered glass. Instead of seeking help, Dazai had lain himself down in the bathtub and spent the whole night picking the shards out of his flesh.

Dazai describes the brand the glass made from his sole to bottom of his big toe, splitting the arch of his foot down the middle. Even without straining the injury, Oda knows this to mean soaked bandages and passive pain, but Dazai picks his faces of discomfort before anyone could make their speculations.

“It’s such a pain to walk, and crutches are too heavy.” Dazai whines. “This is horrible. I’d rather be wheeled around in a wheelchair.”

“I would push you to wherever you need to go.” Oda promises. He likens the blend of his coffee to the saccharine smile on Dazai’s face, and takes twice as long to finish it.

[...]

“What happened to your arm?”

“Ah, I was reaching under the window to my apartment and it jammed over my wrist when I wasn’t looking. I forgot my keys when I left that morning, you see.”

“You should be more careful. And your face and foot?”

“When I got free from the window, I lost my footing on the tree I was standing on and fell off.”

“And you landed badly on your ankle?”

“That’s right.”

“I see. Did you remember your keys this time?”

“I remembered this time!”

[...]

It takes more than a few stops to the rest room and one straining bus trip, but Oda manages to drag Dazai to his home and into the bathroom, leaving droplets of blood in their wake. He’s unfamiliar with the layout of Dazai’s flat, but it’s easy enough to find rolls of bandage amidst the empty crab meat cans and glass bottles. Perched on the toilet lid, Dazai watches on with an absence Oda’s only seen before in small glimpses.

He raises his arms, however, when Oda gestures for them, and doesn’t protest when Oda unravels his bandages. What they reveal only confirms what they both knew; the stitches are in dire need of new dressings, and Dazai is in dire need of a clean. They’re both silent as Oda works through each dressing, peeling off gauze after gauze, and Dazai winces with every swab of disinfectant.

He slows down when he reaches Dazai’s left hand, where the wounds seem most inflamed, but when he looks up, Dazai is more focused on the far bathroom wall, and Oda wonders - not for the first time that evening - what Dazai sees that Oda cannot. It’s unsettling, but Dazai’s mouth houses blood and silk and one million questions but never the answer. 

When he looks back down, Dazai’s skin is dark and blistered and the nails are missing from his pinkie to his middle finger.

“Ah, that,” Dazai speaks up, a small smile on his face. It’s quiet, but even the bandages falling to the floor is loud enough in the cramped bathroom. “Yesterday, I ran all out of canned food but it was too cold to go out, so I tried to cook something–”

“Dazai.” Oda says. Dazai goes quiet.

Oda adjusts the temperature of the bath and tapes water-resistant bags over the worst of Dazai’s injuries. Dazai had successfully pulled his top off (not that it revealed anything the endless sashes of bandage would have) and let Oda wash him down with a sponge, tenderly avoiding the wounds and stitches. Dazai’s fingers eventually start to twitch and Oda took this as his cue to move away. He exits the bathroom to let Dazai finish the rest.

Inside, it’s still cold enough for Oda to see his own breath but he had switched on the kotatsu as they entered, and decides to make full use of that now. He doesn’t linger on the bareness of Dazai’s apartment, it reminds him too much of the vacancy in Dazai’s gaze.

Dazai leaves the bathroom a good half an hour later, returning to the sight of Oda attempting to blink the sleep out of his eyes.

“It looks warm there.” Dazai says. Dazai looks even warmer; flushed healthily from the hot water, new bandages a pristine white.  

“You’re welcome to join me.” Oda says.

Dazai is not even remotely as warm as the kotatsu, but Oda finds that out through Dazai falling against his shoulder and passing out.   

[...]

No matter which bar of whichever geographical location Dazai has the opportunity to occupy, the bartender will never be wheedled into mixing his drink with bleach.

“I’m surprised,” Oda responds, “that they let you in in the first place.”

“It turns out that Executives have all kinds of influence…” Dazai suddenly turns to Oda, doe-eyed and guileless. “Naturally, you would think that this rank would have people tripping over themselves to obey, but I think barkeeps are forming a coalition against me.”

“They’re more afraid of the consequences of killing an Executive of the Port Mafia than facing your wrath,” Oda agrees, though he knows the latter is a fate far worse than any.

Dazai sighs mournfully. “Odasaku, let’s swap places.”

Oda brings the glass to his lips on a top stool at Bar Lupin, listening as Dazai drags one protest after another until it all blends into a narrative worthy of a novel. That Dazai’s blather never holds substance, though once awkward – like Dazai was unable to fit into any space - has become a constant in his life, in the same way Kosuke and his mischievous gang strive to keep Oda on his toes.

“You know, today…” Dazai pools into his seat.

“What is it?”

“A long-time supplier has been issuing us faulty products recently, and I was ordered to take care of it.”

Oda asks, “What kind of products?”

“Weapons.” Dazai traces imaginary patterns into the air, “Among other things. I wanted to see if they would work in reverse and end up finishing me instead, so I tried one out.”

“It didn’t work.” Oda guesses.

“It didn’t work,” Dazai sighs, his arm swinging down as dead weight. “Actually, the supplier’s brains went splat and the recoil ended up damaging my arm all the way up to my shoulder.”

“I see.” Oda murmurs. “That is unfortunate.”

“Isn’t it?” Dazai says through pursed lips. He groaned, making a show of flexing his fingers, and then bringing the closer to inspect them. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Oda makes a noise of inquisition. “Is it your hand?”

Dazai outstretches it to him, never taking his eyes off, and Oda grasps him around the wrist. The touch burns just a little warmer than anticipated, but he diligently tests each finger, and then recalls Dazai’s particular aversion to pain.  

Oda pauses. “It’s your index finger.”

Dazai grimaces. “Is it bad? I hope it’s not. I don’t like going to the infirmary, they stick all kinds of needles in me and...” Dazai cuts off not a second after Oda pops his finger back into place.

Dazai is quiet, until, “Ow.” He says, and then wriggles his renewed finger before his face. “Oh. That feels much better.”

Oda nods. “It would have been bad if that went unnoticed.”

There’s silence, for a bit. Dazai retracts his hand and his smile forms and connects easier. “Lucky I have you here, huh, Odasaku?”

Oda raises the glass to his lips. “Is that so?”

Dazai laughs and follows suit. 

“It is so.”