#And the thing is that **I know** the answer. Beast Dazai was able to look into the canon universe‚ and thus‚ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starlightshadowsworld · 7 months ago

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The Fallen King Part 3: Your Painted Fear

Part 2

(Tw for child abuse, dehumanisation, hallucinations and Beast Atsushi's self esteem.)

There were sweets in his hands.

His hands were smaller, softer than they should be. And yet neither Number 78 nor his hands were strangers to hard work.

The dining room of the orphanage was a large one and it was to be scrubbed top to bottom after every meal. Such a task was not for the faint of heart.

It went on for hours and the pain in your hands lasted even longer. This was supposed to be one such day. That is, until Number 78 found some sweets. He had never considered himself to be lucky, quite the opposite in fact.

The Headmaster told him almost tirelessly that Number 78 was a beasts of calamity. A being that bought destruction and misfortune onto others.

Number 78 wasn't sure what he had done.

He had not been fed that night, nor had he been fed the night prior. Or the night before that. It was because Number 78 had done something wrong.

He was always doing something wrong according to the staff. And that meant more often than not that Number 78 was being punished.

Not that Number 78 knew what he had done wrong.

Not yet at least.

But Number 78 wished he knew what he was doing wrong.

If he knew, maybe he could change. Number 78 wasn't exactly sure how because he'd been a good for nothing as long as he could remember.

But maybe one day he could be a good for something?

He thought maybe these sweets signaled good fortune his way. But Number 78 was not a clever boy, he didn't realise that he had broken a rule.

“And who, Number 78 decided that those sweets belong to you?” Bellowed the Headmaster, a tyrant of a man who glared down at the feeble form of Number 78.

The man always seemed larger than life, or maybe that was because Number 78 was so small. His clothes were hand me downs from an older child that left years ago.

Clothes that he was supposed to grow into but everyone knew he would not.

Number 78 would prefer to dissappear into the ground but alas he had to face his punishment.

“I… I just thought because I found them that they were mine now.” He answered feebly with tears in his eyes.

Number 78 was among many things a pathetic little crybaby. The children giggled and the staff didn't bother hiding there smiles at his plight.

Laughter cracked through the air like a whip.

Number 78 flinched at the sound, cowering from where he stood. He probably would've done so regardless. But at least now his fear seemed warranted.

The Headmasters smile was nothing but cruel as he starred down the boy. “That's the problem, Number 78. You thought, when we all know you're too stupid to be able to do such a thing.”

Number 78 felt himself be dragged away. He didn't bother fighting, not that he could anyway. The Headmaster was the king of this small kingdom and Number 78 was his prisoner. He knew what came next, he sobbed just at the sight of the hammer.

The nail had rooted him to the ground for hours.

It was that day all over again and yet Headmasters voice sounded different. In fact he sounded like… “It's a pity I wasted so much effort giving you such a good name. I guess you'll always be stupid Number 78.”

Atsushi raised his head, something he never would have tried at the time. The Headmasters cruel visage did not stare back at him. He found one piercing brown eye staring down at him. The other hidden behind bleeding bandages.

There was blood.

Too much blood.

Number 78 wasn't on the floor of the Orphanage anymore. He was on the ground of the Port Mafia building. Looking down at Dazai's bleeding smiling staring at back at him.

__________________

Atsushi shot up awake and shaking in a bed that he immediately knew wasn't his. For starters, it was much too nice and the bed much too comfortable.

He shook off his confusion, examining his surroundings as his training kicked in. The room was filled with the familiar smell of woodsmoke and tea leaves. It felt like a comforting embrace, one that he so desperately wanted but would never seek.

Especially not now.

Instinctively Atsushi reached for his neck and sighed in relief feeling his collar.

It cut his finger, grounding him to the here and now. Number 78 didn't wear a collar. The collar meant he was in the Port Mafia. The collar meant he was Atsushi Nakajima.

His hands were empty.

Atsushi grabbed his coat from where it was draped over a chair. He was putting on his shoes when someone knocked on the door.

He paused, before relaxing at the familiar pattern that was only known to himself and one other. It gave him more comfort than he'd like to admit. “Come in” he said and a moment later Kyouka walked in.

She was carrying a tray with green tea which she set down on the desk, handing Atsushi a tea cup before before sitting beside him with her own. Atsushi held the tea cup in his hands, letting it warm him and ground him.

It was a tradition of sorts between them. Whenever the other was having a rough day for the other to brew tea. It was something Kyouka insisted on, and something Atsushi happily followed.

Though sometimes he wondered if she realised more often than not it was her making him tea.

He didn't deserve to have it today.

But one pointed look from Kyouka silenced any comment from Atsushi. “Thank you” is what he said instead, taking a few sips at her silent nudging.

Once she was satisfied, Kyouka began drinking her own tea. It was a comfortable silence between them, neither Atsushi or Kyouka were people of many words.

Unlike their mentors.

But that didn't mean Atsushi had the luxury of not explaining himself. Not that he would dream of keeping this a secret from Kyouka.

If the world wasn't at risk he'd tell her it all. Atsushi put down his tea cup, silently signaling a start to the conversation. Kyouka put hers down a few seconds later, gathering her thoughts.

Before finally looking at him and asking “what do you remember?” She didn't even bother to try and hide the concern in her voice or the worry in her eyes.

Atsushi remembered red. How he'd killed hundreds, thousands and yet he'd never seen that much blood in his life.

Atsushi thought of pristine white bandages drowning in a scarlet river. He thought of toothless smiles forever frozen in place looking up into the sky.

“... I found him.”

Kyouka nodded like it pained her to do so. She stared down into her tea with an expression Atsushi couldn't quite place.

"I know. I found you.”

Atsushi blinked in surprise, he didn't remember seeing Kyouka after the meeting. Kyouka smiled sadly, having expected this.

“I met up with Kouyou at the east wing after your meeting. You were supposed to catch up with us but you must've accidentally gone on ahead.”

She looked down “we didn't find you until you screamed…I thought you were being attacked.”

With the fight between the Agency so fresh in her mind, Kyouka hadn't hesitated. She hasn't even waited for Kouyou's instruction.

The second she heard Atsushi scream, Kyouka had ran on ahead like she was being chased with Demon Snow hot on her heels.

But there was no attack, no enemy in sight. All Kyouka found was Atsushi clutching the still form of the Port Mafia Boss.

“I don't think you noticed me, which was werid because you were looking right at me. But you were talking so I thought maybe you did.”

“What did I say?”

“I'm sorry.”

Kyouka could only watch as Atsushi sobbed and screamed apologises to a man that would never hear them.

She had stood powerfless and afraid at his side not knowing what to do until Kouyou showed up. Kouyou had put a hand on Kyouka's shoulder before gently but firmly telling the girl to go prepare some tea.

“I've got him, go.”

Kyouka's legs had felt like they were made of lead as she stumbled away. She kept walking even when Atsushi cried.

Even when Kouyou's reassurances got louder to be heard over his sobs. Because Kyouka trusted Kouyou, because Kyouka herself could not comfort her brother.

And she trusted that Kouyou would bring him back safe from harm.

Now, Atsushi reached for her shaking hand, squeezing it softly in his. And Kyouka both loved and hated that he knew how to comfort her but she had not known how to comfort him. She squeezed his hand back and he smiled.

“I'm-”

“Atsushi Nakajima if I have to hear you apologise one more time.” Warned Kyouka, eyes sharp as his smile turned into a smirk.

Taking his hand from hers, Atsushi dropped into a mock bow. “My most sincerest apologies Lady Izumi.”

Kyouka snorted. Swatting him with her hand and giggling as he cried out in mock pain. “But, are you okay?” She asked seriously, Atsushi looked down and shook his head.

Wordlessly, Kyouka hugged him. Atsushi sunk into her embrace, tears in his eyes but they did not fall.

“Man my birthdays suck” he said, it should've sounded a lot more snarky but it just sounded sad. “It's not your fault.” Said Kyouka, unfortunately she knew him well.

“I think I over did it with your party.” She confessed, not knowing how that could ruin the day but maybe she jinxed it.

Atsushi looked at her with nothing but soft suprise “you… Planned me a party?” Kyouka nodded, not seeing any reason to keep it a secret any longer.

Kyouka had known even before the day had begin that it was going to be a difficult one. Atsushi's birthday never came without struggle for himself.

It had always been that way for as long as she'd known him. Atsushi was more than happy to forget the day at all but that never sat right with Kyouka.

“It's just, he always insists on celebrating my birthday. And it's always the best thing ever… I just want to do the same for him.” Kyouka had explained, she and Karma had been taking a break from putting up decorations to watch Chuuya make a balloon arch.

According to him it was “absolutely vital for the best party ever.” Kyouka wasn't sure about that but who was she to argue.

“Did he ever tell ya why?” Asked Chuuya, putting the finishing touches on the project. It was kinda funny watching the executive get so excited over something like balloons.

Kyouka had been planning to do this alone but Karma had seen her setting up and offered go help. Chuuya had arrived minutes later with arms full of balloons and joined them with a grin.

Kyouka didn't pry, even if she wanted to know the exact details as to why Atsushi hated his birthday so much. “Me too kid” agreed Chuuya after he'd left and returned with some smuggled in birthday cake.

“But Atsushi will tell us when he's ready.” He punched one of his fists in his hands and grinned at her. “And when he gives us the names, we'll kick their arses.”

Kyouka nodded in complete agreement. “Whenever I ask he gets all sad and says ‘let's just say... The Orphanage weren't exactly happy I was born at all.’ She almost missing the way Karma frowned and Chuuya's expression darkened for a moment before he sighed.

He landed on the ground beside her, determined. “One of these days I'm gonna burn that place to the ground.” Kyouka nodded, wholeheartedly agreeing.

“Maybe that could be Atsushi's birthday present.” Wondered Karma out loud. Chuuya snorted in response “as fun as that would be I don't think he'd appreciate it. But, I think he'll appreciate us all trying to make the day good for him.”

“You think?” Asked Kyouka, hope in her heart and Chuuya smiled. “Oh I know, trust me he's gonna love this.” Kyouka hoped he was right.

Atsushi's negativity to his birthday didn't mean she ever let the day go without acknowledgement.

In her own little way, she would remind Atsushi that she was glad he was here in her life. Everytime he'd accept it with suprise before giving a small tight smile.

“I think the arch might need more balloons.”

“Right?! There's probably some more stashed around here somewhere. Let's go guys!”

Atsushi listened with a small soft smile even if he somehow looked sadder that before. “I appreciate it, but I don't… I don't think I can enjoy a party right now.”

Kyouka nodded, smiling back and hoping it was just as reassuring as his always were. “That's okay, we can have your party when you're ready.”

Atsushi didn't have the heart to tell Kyouka he didn't think he'd ever want to celebrate his birthday again.

But he smiled regardless and nodded. “As long you help me blow out my candles.” She smirked “of course, you're getting so old now you have too many to blow out.”

“Kyouka?!”

Kyouka grinned before falling silent, collecting her thoughts again. “So” she started after a moment “does that mean I have to call you Boss now?”

Atsushi wasn't surprised that she figured it out, well either that or Kouyou told her.

Despite the seriousness of the statement, Atsushi snorted “only when we're not alone.” Kyouka smiled, a sense of relief filling her bones that nothing had changed between them.

“For what it's worth, I think you'll do great. Boss.” Atsushi wasn't sure why but tears welled up in his eyes.

Something about hearing it from Kyouka made it sound all the more real. It made it feel almost like Atsushi was doing the right thing.

Even though Atsushi knew he was doing anything but.

___________________

Once the wreckage was cleared and the stability of the building was assured, the news broke out.

The Port Mafia never did half arsed anything and the collective reaction to Dazai's death was felt throughout the city.

Kouyou, Verlaine and Ace had all come together to deal with the aftermath. Holding a united front even with Chuuya currently hiding away from it all. Fortunately no one was dumb enough to bring up his absence.

Even if everyone felt it.

Atsushi was hidden from it all lest the Port Mafia's rage was directed at him. Verlaine had even allowed him to stay in his study (the room Atsushi had woken up in prior.)

Atsushi personally wouldn't have minded going out. It's not like that rage was misplaced. Dazai's death was his fault and if anyone had to pay for it, why shouldn't it be him?

Even so Atsushi stayed silent, knowing at the very least Kyouka would kick his ass if he left her sight. He had scared her, he knew that much. Kyouka looked at him sometimes like she was afraid he would vanish.

She had always been by his side but now it was like he'd gained a second shadow. It should feel unnerving but Atsushi felt it was very much deserved.

At least if nothing else his cursed existence could provide comfort to his sister. Atsushi didn't think he'd ever forgive himself for scaring her so badly.

He hadn't asked about Chuuya since the meeting.

Not because Atsushi didn't care about his mentor… Former mentor now. It was because Atsushi didn't think he deserved to know. Chuuya definitely didn't want anything to do with him right now, Atsushi was sure of it.

“You don't know, he might be there.” Said Kyouka, but even she sounded unconvinced. “How do I look?” Asked Atsushi instead, tugging on his coat self-consciously.

In all his time with the Port Mafia Atsushi had never really attended one of their lavish events. His attendance was as either Dazai's personal security or outside security for the event.

And well, no one ever really cared what security was wearing.

“You look different” Said Kyouka with a smile. “A good different” she added and Atsushi sighed in relief. Kouyou has allowed him to wear his usual coat.

But his black turtleneck had been replaced with a red shirt and black tie. Similar to what Chuuya wore on a day to day basis.

Speaking of Chuuya, he would not be in attendance for the event. Despite it being mandatory to do so, he'd taken a mission that meant he wouldn't be able to attend.

“You know, you could order him off it” Atsushi refused to do so, even without the importance of the mission. The idea of giving Chuuya any kind of order made Atsushi's skin crawl.

Though Atsushi couldn't help but feel saddened. He had hoped Chuuya would have simply attended the event and ignored him.

Glasses were raised and everyone drank to the former Boss. Kouyou nodded approvingly from the corner of his eye. Atsushi thought she would, given he'd said what he thought Dazai would in such a event.

Atsushi allowed himself to breathe for just a moment. “Isn't that sweet, a toast to my life huh?” Atsushi froze as a familiar voice reached his ears. He turned and found standing in the corner of the room, was Dazai.

He looked just like he had when Atsushi found him. Blood stained bandages and a frozen smile.

The only difference was that Dazai wasn't wearing his scarf. Atsushi felt ill when he realised it was wrapped around his neck. The soft fabric felt like it was burning him from the inside out from where it sat against his neck.

Against his collar.

The collar that marked Atsushi as Atsushi Nakajima. The collar that gave him his life and purpose.

The collar that Dazai had placed on him. The collar that Atsushi hid behind his dead mentors scarf just to act like he belonged here.

“I just find it funny, seeing as my death was entirely your fault.” Said Dazai, a gleeful smile on his face that stole all of Atsushi's strenght.

Hearing it from himself was one thing. Hearing it from Chuuya was another. But hearing from Dazai himself that his blood was on Atsushi's hands. “Atsushi” called Kyouka, suddenly at his side.

Atsushi wasn't sure why she seemed so concerned. That was until he noticed the glass he was holding had shattered in his hands.

Red wine running down his hand…the same shade as Dazai's blood. He shakily smiled, wiping down his hands and apologised with a line that sounded faker than he was.

He let Kyouka lead him away, watched as the glass was removed and his ability removed all traces of his actions.

Would his ability have saved him if he jumped after Dazai? Would it even have mattered if it hadn't? If Dazai had lived while Atsushi had died.

Can I hug you?”

Atsushi nodded, slumping into Kyouka's arms. He felt so tired but he couldn't rest now. He needed to go back in there. He had to go back and play the part he'd put himself into. “I don't know what's going on up there” she said, gently poking his head.

The sadness in her eyes bloomed guilt in his heart.

“But… Please dont go down a path I can't follow.”

Atsushi smiled, it was gentle and warm. And he hated it, he hated that Kyouka relaxed at the sight of it. Because it was fake, just like everything about Atsushi was. From his smile to his coverstory to his name.

“I won't, I promise.”

A lie. Because Atsushi had long since begun his walk into darkness. And no matter how close he was to the shadows, no one could reach him now. Not even Kyouka could follow him where he'd gone now.

Atsushi had lived while Dazai had died. This was his punishment, this was the penance for his crimes. To wander alone in a maze of his own creation. Atsushi smiled at Kyouka, feeling the scarf around his neck tighten.

The only real thing about him were his lies.

#The Fallen King #beast atsushi #atsushi nakajima #beast kyouka #kyouka izumi #ozaki kouyou #beast kouyou #dazai osamu #beast dazai #bungou stray dogs beast #bsd beast

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popopretty · 3 years ago

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The Day I Picked Up Dazai - Side A (1)

I translated the first few pages of the new Dazai novel, which was given out as free bonus for those who come to the cinema to watch the BEAST live action movie in Japan.

Please carefully read the notes below before progressing.

- This post contains spoilers. It is not a summary, but a full translation of the first few pages of novel. So if you plan to read the novel later yourself and think this would ruin your expectation, please stop here.

· I tried to keep the translation as accurate as possible, but as I don't speak English or Japanese as my native language, I may make some mistakes or use weird words etc. This translation might not be final. I may come back and fix it later if I find any mistakes.

· This is a moviegoers-only benefit, so please be extra careful when discussing it about on Twitter. Use a #spoiler tag on your tweets or your fanarts. You can share the links to this post but don't take many screenshots.

· Don’t retranslate it. [UPDATE MAY 9, 2023] You can retranslate it but please keep in mind that my translation is not perfect and some meanings will be lost through re-translation. If you are not sure about the meaning at any part, please let me know! Don’t repost this translation anywhere else out of Tumblr.

· DON’T GO TO THE AUTHORS’ OR OFFICIAL TWITTERS TO COMMENT ABOUT THE CONTENTS OF IT.

I'm sorry if that's too much but honestly all I want is for everyone to have a good experience, for those who wants to read the novels to be able to read the novels, and for those who don't want to be spoiled, to be safe from it as much as possible.

If you have read and are okay with all the above, please continue to move forward and enjoy the novel. Have a good day!

A bloody corpse of a young man is lying on my front porch.

I look down at the corpse, then at the front of the house. It is a quiet morning. The apartment across the street is casting a long black shadow on the pavement in front of me. The trumpet vines planted in the hedge are rustling in the breeze, and whispering to each other in a way that human cannot decipher. Somewhere in the distance, I can hear the sound of the long-distance trucks scraping against the road surface. And there is a corpse in the middle of the stairs in front of me.

In any case, to our eyes, a corpse is always a strangely exaggerated presence. But this time it is different. This corpse blends in with the landscape, becoming one with the everyday peaceful morning scenery. After a while, I realize the reason. The corpse’s chest is moving up and down faintly. It is not a corpse, it is alive.

I look at the young man. He is all black. A high-collar black cloak, a three-piece suit, a black tie. The things that are not black are his button-down shirt, and the bandages around his head. This one is a mottled color of white and red. This color pattern reminds me of some ominous Chinese prophetic characters. The place he is lying, is the middle of the stairs that leads to the front porch. The blood stains continuing down the cracked concrete stairs looks like he has been crawling.

Question. What should I do with this nearly-corpse in front of my eyes?

The answer is simple. If I touch him with the tip of my toes and put some weight on him, he will just roll down to the ground below. If I do so, then he will not be on my premise anymore. He will be on a public road. The country’s territory. All those who are in trouble within the territory of the country should be saved by the mercy of the country. An ordinary postman like me should go home and have breakfast.

I am not doing that because I am a cold and heartless person. I am doing that because it is a survival necessity. The young man’s wounds are clearly from gunshots. He has been shot multiple times. There are probably more holes in his body than I can see from here. And to top it all off, he is holding a bunch of new notes in his left hand.

What can this mean? Nothing. It means nothing, except that his existence is a huge trouble, and that nothing good will come out of getting involved with him. In other words, he is clearly not someone that an average citizen should get involved with. A normal person in his right mind should have fled to the next city at the sight of him. Just like Jonah in the Bible would do the second time he runs into a giant fish in a stormy sea.

I look at the young man, at the road, and the sky, and at him again.

And then I start to act. First, I approach the guy and lift him up by his sides. Then I drag him by his heels into the house and lay him down on the wall-mounted bed. He is much lighter than he looks. Carrying him alone is not that much of a trouble. I check his wounds. There are many deep wounds, and the bleeding is not usual, but if he receives immediate proper treatment, it is not like he will die.

I take out my medical kit box from the back of the closet, and give him some simple first aid treatments. I put a towel under his upper body, cut his clothes with a pair of scissors to expose the wounds, and check if there is any bullet left inside. In order to stop the blood flow, I apply pressure on the pressure points: below the armpits, inner elbows, ankles, backs of knees, and tie them tightly with a clean cloth. Then I put disinfected tourniquets to the wounds to stop the bleeding. Fortunately for him, I can do this kind of first aid even with my eyes closed.

After I am done with the treatments, I look down at the young man and cross my arms. His breathing has stabilized. His respiratory system and bones seem to be intact. But he does not seem to be waking up. “It’s fine already, just kick him out.” I can hear the voice in my head. There is nothing more stupid than treating a suspicious guy like this. I guess I should listen to that voice. That is what a wise man would do.

Before following the angel’s advice, I take another look at the young man. I don’t recognize his face. Probably not someone I know. I say probably, because the bandages covering half of his face makes it almost impossible to make out his features. But he is much younger than what I first thought. He is probably young enough to pass as a “boy”.

Then I remember the wad of cash he was holding. He is still holding them. If it is actually as much as it looks, it must be a fortune for someone with a miserably cheap wage like me. In this situation, it should be okay to have some of them gently transferred to my pocket as a thank for saving his life, right? Thinking so, I pick up the wad of notes. And now I finally realize that I am the biggest idiot in this town.

I feel a bitter taste spreading inside my mouth.

That is an unused bundle of notes. There is some blood on them, but the paper strap, the proof that they are new, is there. There is no bank’s name printed on the strap. There is no printing of any kind. And the notes are neatly lined up by serial numbers in ascending order.

I feel like someone just punched me in the stomach.

There are two possibilities that I can think of. First, this bundle of notes has been taken out of the Reserve Bank of Japan Mint, before it hits the market. That would mean this man is a plague. There is no chance that an ordinary person could get his hands on such a thing. The notes printed at Japan Mint are first sent to the Ministry of Finance, where their serial numbers are scanned to become usable notes. Then they will be sent in cash transport vehicles to branches of the Reserve Bank. From there, they continue to be subdivided and distributed to city banks. At that point, the straps will be switched with those of the city banks.

However, there is no printing on his trap at all. The only way to be able to carry out a wad of notes in that state is to steal it from the Reserve Bank. The most likely way is to attack a cash transport car. Could it be that he just returned from a raid like that?

But if so, I will just stroke my chest in relief, and go back to making coffee in my kitchen. The cash car robbers are violent guys, but only violent. Violence alone cannot make a storm.

There is another possibility.

These are counterfeit notes. I take out a magnifying glass from the back of the room, and carefully examine the wad of notes in my hand. I become completely chilled that my fingers are tingling. I try comparing them with the notes in my own wallet. I can’t tell the difference at all.

A supernote.

I feel dizzy.

If that is the case, the thing in my hand right now has become as dangerous as a small nuclear warhead. Counterfeit currency is a tool of warfare that has been used way before bows and arrows. If one can bring an amount of well-made false currency into an enemy country, the value of that currency will drop due to the increase amount of money in circulation, leading to inflation. A country is, in a sense, its own currency. By skillfully fueling distrust in a country’s currency, it is possible to destroy the economy and bring down a whole nation. For that reason, the National Security Agency is always on the lookout for counterfeit notes. If this level of a note is to be brought into the market, it would not be the city police’s business. It is much higher. The National Security Agency, or the Military.

I put the wad of notes on my desk as if I am throwing them away. I don’t want to leave my fingerprints on them anymore. I head to the phone. If I report the incident right away, I might be able to argue for some extenuating circumstances with the authorities. There is no time to waste.

When I pick up the receiver, I hear a faint voice. It isn’t coming from the phone.

“Put the phone down.”

I turn to the direction where the voice came from. Before I knew it, the young man has opened his eyes and is looking at me with those eyes. I look at the receiver and the youth in turn. Then I say, “What if I don’t?”

“I kill you.”

Those words are as mediocre as the unsold leftover packs lining up in a deli, at least to this young man. I can tell from looking at his eyes. When he utters the word “kill”, it is nothing more than an ordinary, everyday word for him. Just like cutting your nails, or going out to buy more cigarettes, those kinds of words.

“How?” I put down the receiver, but I have not returned it to the base station. Then I say, “You’ve got holes all over your body. You can’t move anything. You’re dying everywhere. You don’t even have a gun. To kill me in that condition, it would take two hundred of you.”

“I don’t need that much.” He says with a chilled voice. “I’m Port Mafia.”

Those words only are enough.

“Port Mafia”, I carefully choose my words before saying “Then I have no choice but to obey.” Then I take my time and quietly put the receiver down.

“That’s good,” he chuckles.

If he really is from Port Mafia, I would have to be careful even about lifting or lowering a spoon in front of him. When the opponent is the Port Mafia, the synonym of darkness and violence, even if I report this and manage to escape today, there is no telling what will come later. A human being has a total of about two hundred bones. But it would not be strange if I will be shredded into just as many pieces of flesh.

I stare at him for about three seconds. Then I go to the kitchen. I keep the door open so that I can watch him from there. I start making coffee in the kitchen. I put the kettle on the fire and wet the rod with some water. I add the coffee powder, and pour boiling water in.

“If I’m not allowed to call the police, what about the doctors?” I say, keeping my eyes on the water.

“What I’ve done is just emergency first aids at best. If you don’t get checked by a proper doctor, you will die soon.”

“No need to worry.” The young man speaks with a slightly stretched out voice. “This much is no big deal. I’m used to injuries.”

“Is that so? Then I will obey.” I stir the coffee and set a timer. “In any case, there is no way a normal postman like me can go against the Port Mafia demons.”

“Being obedient is good. So next…”

Suddenly, the young man starts coughing and vomiting blood. I quickly run up to him and turn his head to the side so that he will not choke on his own blood. I check inside his mouth. I can’t tell where the bleeding is from in this situation. It could be just a cut inside his mouth, or it could be an internal injury. I don’t know.

“Go to the hospital. Get treatments. You are really going to die.” I state.

“It’s perfect then.” he speaks like whispering. “Just let me die like this.”

I feel a chilled wind passing through me.

I look at the young man. He is just staring at the ceiling. No emotions, no intents. Just a flat expression, like one who is just telling his age. I cannot believe my own eyes. I don’t even feel like there is a human there. If it was late night instead of a refreshing early morning, I would think that he was a ghost or a hallucination.

Crazy things keep happening today. My life is about to get screwed up it seems.

“Fine then.” I say. “If you want to die, just die. It’s your own life. I won’t stop you. But I will be in trouble if you die here. If you die here, no one will be able to testify that I am not the one who caused your injuries. I might be arrested.”

“To be arrested, or to be killed by Port Mafia later, which one is better?’

I stare at him while saying, “That’s a hard question.”

I go back to the kitchen, wait for the timer and turn off the fire. I then take out the cream can and ask, “You want some coffee?”

No answer.

“How did you collapse in front of my house?”

Still no answer.

“What the heck are those notes in your hand?”

No answer for this one of course.

I feel as if I’m talking to a wind fairy. A character from a picture book who suddenly came to my house on a peaceful morning. Just that he is covered in blood, and he wants to die.

I pour coffee into two cups and add in the cream. I watch the steam, wait for some time and start stirring. Then I notice that I can’t feel the sign of anyone in the next room anymore. I can’t even hear him breathing. No hint of death drifting either.

I poke my head out of the door, the cups still in my hand. The young man is crawling towards the front door. If he could move his legs, he would just walk out. But it looks like he hasn’t got that much strength back, so he just has his arms hooked on the floor and slowly creeping forward. Just like a prisoner escaping from cell in those old war movies.

He notices my gaze, and then as if he has given up, a mocking smile appears on his face.

“You don’t want me to die in this house, do you? Then if I leave, you’ll have nothing to do with it. No need to help me. No need to ponder anything. Just stay there and watch.”

I ask him, still holding the coffee, “Do you want to die that much?”

“Of course I do. I joined the Port Mafia, but there was still nothing.” replies the young man in a voice that sounds like a soul-deprived gasp. “The only thing I want now, is death.”

Then he starts crawling again.

I take a sip of my coffee while watching that. His progress is pathetically slow. I take another sip. He keeps moving without a rest. He has no intent to look back at me anymore.

There is only one thing to do.

“It’s no use to stop me.” The young man seems to notice my movement. He says with his eyes looking forward, “No one can go against the Port Mafia. And no one in the Port Mafia can go against me. In other words, no one can whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!??”

He is pulled backward.

I wrap him with a bed sheet and lift him up. I then twist the two ends to close it. Like a candy wrapping paper. Then I turn him upside down and carry him back.

“It hurts it hurts it hurts! My wounds are opening! What the hell are you doing, you blockhead. You want to be killed?”

“I don’t want to be killed. But I don’t want to let you die either. If you go out in this state, you will definitely die. Just make up a death story without me in it when you get better.”

As it looks like he is going to let out more complaint, I shake the lump of cloth.

“Ouch ouch! Stop it! I hate pains!!”

“Then will you give up?”

“No!”

I try to come up with a way to deal with it and I get one. Let’s tie him to the bed.

I put him down on the bed and open the pack. I bring in a big towel and wrap it around his arms, which are crossed in front of his chest, altogether with his torso. I take the decorative cord from the door way to bind his legs together and tie the ends to the metal fittings of the bed. I raise the pillows, change the blanket into a new one, and open the window to let the fresh air in.

“For the time being, until your wounds have healed, I will have you stay like that.” I look down to the young man and say “Is there anything you want?”

“My nose is itching.” He looks at me resentfully while wriggling his two arms that are no longer free.

“Poor you.” I go back to the coffee in the kitchen.

The young man’s insults are echoing behind my back. But this neighborhood is sparsely populated, so there is no need to worry about disturbing the neighbors. I enjoy my morning coffee.

And so begins the strange and short communal life of me and Dazai together.

...

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #spoiler #spoilers #bsd spoilers #side A spoilers #dazai osamu #oda sakunosuke

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narrators-journal · 3 years ago

Text

Moonlight

warning: Light depictions of violence, Aku really admires Atsushi’s tiger (idk if it comes off as super sexual, so idk might be a bit monster-fucker-y) Nothing sexual or vulgar, just him being super into watching Atsushi kill.

edit: Had to fix some glaring formatting issues, also just editted some of the choppier bits of the text :D

Akutagawa had no clue why he was out looking for a pissy tiger gijinka at 10 pm, but he was. He wasn't super thrilled about it, to say the least. However, Dazai had called and explained that Atsushi had apparently had an awful day at work or something and then changed into a weretiger in the evening, and the bandaged ADA agent wasn't sure if that was intentional or because of the full moon, so it was now up to Aku to go find the weretiger and bring him back to his apartment before he could cause any trouble.

Any good mafia member would've told the traitorous sociopath to go fuck himself with a cactus, but some weird urge had led the goth to agree to return Atsushi home for his old mentor. Had him receiving the crybaby's address from his mentor and heading out into the darkness.

It wasn't that he still wanted acknowledgment, he'd gotten his praise and acknowledgment a few weeks before. So while he still highly respected Dazai, he wasn't out clicking his tongue into alleyways and lifting himself onto rooftops at such a late hour for his praise. It definitely wasn't out of concern for Jinko, he could care less if the brainless house cat got hit by a car or stuck up a telephone pole. No, what had Akutagawa out near the hellish docks was a lingering sense of curiosity. He couldn't exactly place what he was curious about that exact moment, but he was intrigued. So, he poked around until he finally spotted a familiar flick of white and black disappearing around the corner in the slums.

When he spotted the first signs of Atsushi, Akutagawa dropped to a crouch and crept forward until he could look around the wall to see a dimly glowing white tiger nosing through a trash bag he seemed interested in. With him distracted, Aku took the chance to move towards him, bringing Rashoumon to life once he was close enough. Either the energy or the light near-instantly drew the predator's eye, but either way, he was now staring into the golden eyes of Atsushi Nakajima, or, more so, his tiger.

In that dangerous, uneasy situation, it finally clicked. He'd wanted to see this. Atsushi's full tiger form. That's why he'd agreed to go hunting for him upon Dazai's request. Not only that but staring into those predatory eyes brought a new sensation through his body. Awe.

"Jinko," He said, doing his best to sound calm while he internally battled a storm of fear, awe, and honest wonder. "Can you understand me?" He asked it nonchalantly, his grey eyes just staying glued to the tiger's golden gaze as he circled to face the vampire of a man properly. With no answer, obviously, Aku took a deep breath to steel his nerves before trying to reason with the creature again, "Listen, I know we don't get along, you annoy the shit out of me, I'm sure you dislike me just as much. But, Dazai sent me to try and return you home, so can you please cooperate?" He asked, but the answer he got was a pretty huffy tail lash and the creature walking past him and across the street to dig through more trash. And for a moment, Akutagawa was nearly mesmerized, forgetting what he was going to say. The hunter's movements revealed the powerful muscles just beneath its snowy, striped fur, it knocked home just how dangerous this car-sized cat could be. He hasn't attacked me though, the mafioso realized, normally Jinko would maul me on sight, but his tiger isn't. Not even a growl. The realization almost made a sense of honor well up in his chest as he followed the giant cat to the next bag of garbage he seemed intent on investigating.

For a bit, the goth trailed after the large predator, his original task abandoned, mesmerized by the sight of it moving so quietly despite its lethal claws and hulking, muscular form. However, his observations were interrupted when a realization hit him like a brick to the face, Of course! He's hungry! No wonder he's been digging through stray garbage bags and whatnot, he's probably looking for meat! He slapped his hand over his face at how obvious that had been, then, he whistled to the massive feline, coughing a few times before he spoke again, "Would you like to actually hunt, Jinko?" The snowy ears of the creature perked at the mention of hunting, perhaps he can understand me to some extent, the thought was swiftly shelved for later though, he had mentioned hunting, he had no time to ponder how conscious his nemesis was as a likely impatient and hungry tiger. "If you follow me, I can take you to someone you can hunt," he offered, once again looking into the yellow eyes of the beast, almost able to see him contemplating his offer before he suddenly moved forward.

Akutagawa's first thought was that the car-sized feline was going to eat him instead, but no. In reality, Atsushi simply headbutted him in the chest, sending him sliding on his back across the pavement, coughing and wheezing from the air leaving his weak lungs so suddenly. "J-Jinko!" he snapped between coughs, glowing red in his annoyance, but instead of being even slightly intimidated or on-edge from the show of hostility, Atsushi just continued to headbutt or nose him, pushing him along the pavement until the choking mafioso finally managed to put his hand on the cat's striped, moon-silver forehead, Holy shit, you're so soft, and shove him back enough to let him get back to his feet. "What are you doing Jinko? Don't nuzzle up to me just because I offered you food, dumbass!" he snarled, keeping his pale hand on the cat's head as he glared at him.

The two stood there for a moment, Akutagawa's glow intensifying when Atsushi pushed against his hand and made him step back to avoid tumbling over again, all the while the choppy-haired vampire was trying to decipher what the weretiger might be doing this for. It's not likely that he wishes to eat me. If he did, he would've pounced as soon as I was on the ground...That also means he's not looking for a fight. Could it be his way of thanking me for offering to take him to hunt? Is he just trying to NUZZLE me?? His cheeks heated like stovetop burners at the thought of the elegant predator showing him, his most hated rival, affection of all things. He could handle the tiger trying to maul him, half expected it honestly, but he didn't know how to feel about Atsushi nuzzling up to him as a thank you or otherwise.

It was only when he gave another attempt at a nudge that Akutagawa got the message at long last. "Oh! You're wanting me to take you there!" He rolled his dark gray eyes at that and pushed himself away from the weretiger, turning around with a huff and starting to lead the way. This also gave his pale cheeks the time to return to normal in the cool night air, though his heart couldn't seem to stay at a steady, calm pace. It kept jumping and thumping unpredictably with the excitement of maybe seeing Atsushi on a proper hunt.

It was sure to be a fascinating sight, to see the massive feline crouched, creeping up on an unsuspecting victim, to see his muscles bunch with so much power just before lunging at the prey. He was excited at the thought of seeing the weretiger's lethal talons tear into a person, and his jaws crunch down mercilessly on his victim's bones. The sheer power of it. The fact that he had fought someone who could tap into that primal potential. He'd looked into such an animal's eyes, he'd seen the human intelligence mingling seamlessly with the animalistic cunning. Atsushi's razor-sharp fangs had been mere inches from such a vital part of his body, and yet he'd done no malicious harm. No, not a scratch. Aku couldn't place the feeling of awe and nebulous adrenaline-pumping thrill he got from it. From being so close to a beast who could end him without hesitation or issue, and yet he hadn't. All of that strength was so beautifully control-

The goth's thoughts were interrupted by another headbutt, this time to his spine, sending him sprawling onto the pavement with an indignant squawk. "Jinko! Wha- Are you trying to get me to speed up, or fucking kill me?!" He snapped, scrambling to his feet with a small cough and a tidal wave of humiliation for the noise he'd made on his way down, but his only response was another nudge from the beast, one he swatted away. "Oh no! I am not jogging or running ahead of you! Quit acting like an impatient toddler," he scolded, dusting himself off while the tiger huffed like said impatient toddler.

With his own grumpy huff, he continued, leading Atsushi out of the slums and into the nicer parts of town. It wasn't the rich end of Yokohama, where the homes were capped with long driveways and wrought-iron fences or had names for addresses, but it wasn't the slums. The neighborhood they ended up in, while sparse of people on the sidewalk and road, thrummed with life within the safety of the nightclubs and bars that were scattered about. It was somewhere near the outskirts of town without being too far, around there Akutagawa would find the mafia's casino and the one rival casino whose owner was as equally a customer of the mafia as much as a rival. "Alright, you stay here for a moment. I've got to go find your food. Don't worry, they aren't good, innocent people, so you shouldn't feel a lick of shame for eating them." He promised Atsushi, now standing a few buildings down in a wide alleyway from the rival casino. "You eat the men in suits to your heart's content, in return, I'll destroy the street security cameras." The creature made a noise he assumed was agreement, so he left him in the alleyway and began prowling the street, taking out cameras as he went until he'd not only left the whole street defenseless but also found the owner of the second gambling hall.

Once he'd located the man and his goons relaxing at an outside table, smoking and drinking their booze in front of the closed shop, he used a ribbon of his coat to slither over and knick the owner with the sharpened cloth, slipping away before he realized it was more than a simple bug bite or accidental scratch. With the fresh blood now on his coat, he slunk back to Atsushi, letting the striped hunter sniff the strip of cloth thoroughly before he hoisted himself onto the roof with Rashoumon.

From his vantage point on the rooftops, the wheezy goth could follow the weretiger as he prowled down the street, following the scent of blood until he too spotted the prey at the cafe table and fell into a hunter's crouch. The goth repressed his coughing and wheezing as much as possible, paused with the cat, his grey eyes fixated on the silent animal as he inched closer to the men.

It amazed Aku that neither the owner nor his goons noticed the rabbit-soft white-and-black fur of the weretiger, part of him wanted them to spot the beast before he pounced, just so he could watch them run and panic and really see Atsushi chase down his prey. Sadly, by the time the small group had finally realized they were being stalked, it was too late. Atsushi was already on them, tearing them apart, his powerful jaws turning their muscles to pulled pork in seconds, his talons tearing into them like a hot knife through butter. They tried to run, but they didn't get far before each one was picked off with one swipe of the dark claws, or powerful jaws of the predator.

Akutagawa watched the scene from the safety of the rooftop, his heart racing with excitement, his breath quickening as he grinned like a lunatic. Not even his subsequent coughing fit could ruin the absolute thrill that zipped through his blood at the sight of such a gorgeous, efficient predator crunching on bones like they were nothing, his white fur now stained a lovely shade of red. It took a moment for him to come back from that high and realize that his lightheadedness and shortness of breath had gone from pure elation to an issue, so he had to swiftly fish his inhaler out of his pocket and pull from it, hoping it was enough to open his airways so he would avoid the hospital. He was not keen on having to explain to a doctor what exactly had gotten him so hyper.

Thankfully for the pale mafioso, his inhaler worked. So, after a moment to catch his breath and regain his composure, he brought Rashoumon to life and used it to lower himself down to the pavement again, a safe distance from Atsushi, who was contently tearing the mafia's rivals apart and devouring their flesh. With one final calming breath, he slowly walked over to the beast, not getting a glance as he approached until he was beside the car-sized feline while he chomped at a bone until it splintered.

Once he was sure Atsushi wasn't interested in him, Akutagawa crouched down and gently, tentatively put a hand against his side, feeling the soft, silky, striped fur and perfectly honed muscles just beneath his pale fingertips. "I can see why Dazai chose you...over me..." he muttered quietly, his eyes glued to the tiger's mouth, admiring his fangs as they worked at the bones and meat of the casino owner, "You are far beyond my power level. So much more controlled, so much stronger, so much more capable than I'll ever be." It hurt to voice these shameful realizations, but for some reason, Aku felt like he wouldn't be judged by the beast, even if it did understand his words, it wouldn't shame him for his admitting to his faults.

So, he just sat beside the tiger, running his hand over the beast's side, shoulder, even along its back, from snout to as far as he could reach behind him. Just taking everything about him in. The car-sized feline didn't seem to care at all, unbothered by the admiring pets, or when Aku grabbed his back paw to flex his toes and unsheath his talons. Some part of the mafioso still reminded him, He could still eat you next, but it did nothing to dissuade the child-like curiosity that fuelled his exploration of every deadly part of the animal, from tracing his muscles, to bringing out his bloodied talons, all while Atsushi ate his fill of his prey until nothing remained save for their shredded clothing.

The pale man simply gathered those up and ran a hand through his chopped up hair, "I guess I should take you back to your apartment now before dawn comes." he mused, judging that they had about an hour or two before the sun rose and Atsushi likely changed back to his more pathetic, weak form. Aku looked at the weretiger, watching as the beast licked his chops and shook himself off, then turned with a sigh to head to the address Dazai had given him. Atsushi followed without complaint, padding alongside the goth, much more content, it seemed.

Once Atsushi was safely back in his own home, and the clothing was burnt and disposed of, Aku went home to his personal apartment, flopping onto the bed with a half groan, half sigh. Now that he wasn't running on thrills and curiosity, he was exhausted. His only thought before passing out was Never telling anyone of this.

#Shin soukoku #bsd #'bungo stray dogs #sskk #Akutagawa x atsushi #atsushi nakajima #Akutagawa ryuunosuke

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

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Can you please do more bungou stray dogs yandere content? Like a darling that was really sweet until they kidnapped her and is like a caged animal until they start drugging their darling to relax and wear them down. At some point they're just so scared and obedient like a bunny because they dont want to be drugged.

I decided to go with Dazai for this, since he deserves to be a terrible, terrible man every so often, as well as a Darling with an Animal-based Ability, if only to add another layer to the metaphor. Themes are important to me, even if they do get rather… blurry, sometimes.

Title: No Longer Human.

TW: Violence, Non-Consensual Drug Use, and Imprisonment.

You were vaguely aware that your current behavior was, most likely, a coping mechanism.

You were traumatized. You didn’t feel traumatized, nor did you think of yourself as unstable or irrational or anything less than you used to be, but you were aware enough to know that you were probably more effected by Dazai’s fixation than you let yourself believe. You tried not to think about it - all the hours you’d lost, the days you’d spent unconscious or paralyzed or too strung-out to care that you weren’t, but it was inescapable, sometimes. Your captor thought of you as a wild animal, an untamed beast that attacked him because it’d never been trained properly, not because he took it away from its home and stuffed his little white pills down its throat whenever it tried to go back. Behaving was a way to cope. When you behaved, you didn’t get hurt, and you were allowed to decide when you wanted to be awake or asleep or none of the above, as long as your schedule didn’t conflict with Dazai’s.

When you behaved, you were allowed to be conscious.

That was all you could really ask for, with Dazai as your trainer.

Using your ability, Paws of the Tender Wolf, helped. It was a simple transformation ability, and while you couldn’t use it as it was meant to be used, it was enough to let your mind fall into the simplistic, instinctual world of the wolf you’d become so acquainted with, to let your energy and your strength be sapped by the power it took you to keep in a state of not quite human, but not quite monster, either. It was nice, even if it was all you could do to curl into a tight ball on Dazai’s loveseat and try to forget where you were. There was no point trying to escape, not when you’d already checked and re-checked every possible exit three times that day, only to find every window and door and vent padlocked, or deadbolted, or broken beyond repair in that meticulous, chaotic way Dazai was so good at breaking things. You had to wait for an opening, but waiting was a very hard thing to do with your eyes open.

You didn’t bother lifting your head when you heard the door to Dazai’s flat open, just watching from underneath your eyelashes as he shrugged off his coat and ran a bandaged hand through his hair, whatever bag he might’ve held soon thrown to the side and forgotten as he collapsed onto the seat next to you. He was tired, clearly, but you didn’t bother to try to guess why.

Rather, you picked yourself up, half-hearted stretching before setting yourself down on his lap, straddling him lazily and resting your chin on the dip of his shoulder, melting into him out of habit rather than fondness. Dazai didn’t seem to mind. If he wanted you to love him, he would have to be content with this. “You’re late.”

“It’s been a long day,” He sighed, his hand coming up to idly trace the curve of your back, his exploration ending just before he reached your motionless tail, hanging limply at the base of your spine like a cheap accessory, instead of the natural extension it was supposed to be. Thankfully, he ignored it, choosing to move his inspection to your ears, instead, dark and soft and more agreeably attentive. Dazai rewarded you with a handful of unwelcome strokes, and you did your best not to push him away. “We’ve got a few new detectives, the others’ are getting too close for their own good. One had an ability kind of like yours, did I tell you?”

Atsushi Nakajima. He’d told you dozens of times already, but you just shook your head, letting him ramble on about issues too domestic for such a busy man. If you brought up someone else or indulged the idea of doing so, Dazai would click his tongue and you’d wake up three days later with an awful headache. Listening to him was more bearable, if only slightly.

“That reminds me,” He said, pausing to make sure you were listening. It was the first time he’d done so during your onesided conversation. “I’m going to be gone for a few days, no longer than a week. I don’t want you to starve to death before I come back, so you’re not getting the worst dose you’ve had, but I asked an acquaintance to come over and make sure you’re taking your medicine once a day or so. You’re not going to give him too much trouble, right?”

There was a beat of silence, your mouth going dry as your heart began to drum in your chest. Your tail brushed against the backs of your thighs, searching for a position to express its discontent. “You going to drug me?” You asked, not waiting for an answer before you continued. “But I haven’t attacked you, and I didn’t… I’ve been good--”

“It’s a necessary precaution.” His voice was calm, even, patronizing. If he noticed your distress, he didn’t feel the need to address it, only tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling you forward, pressing his lips against your forehead, letting his touch linger as he spoke. “You are good. You’ve been perfect, and I’m so grateful that you came around, but I don’t want you to revert to bad habits just because I’m leaving you alone.” Abruptly, his tone was akin to that of an apathetic parent, a fatigued caretaker faking sympathy to prevent another temper tantrum. “I’ll bring home a treat, alright? Something nice for my favorite puppy.”

You should’ve approached this rationally. You should’ve collected yourself and seen this as an opportunity, and yet, the thought of the taste of chalk on your tongue, the dizziness and the slurred words and the helplessness, any of it and all of it was enough to set you off, to scrub your mind blank and make it seem like there was only one option, like you had to take the offensive or be forced into submission. You were snarling before you could stop yourself, growling and snapping and lunging for his neck with pointed, protruded canines, dull claws emerging from your knuckles to better dig into his flesh as you threw yourself against him, aiming to rip out his throat or severe his jugular trying. You had to. You couldn’t be tranquilized again, you couldn’t be suppressed into a corner of your mind and stored away. You couldn’t be put to sleep whenever Dazai said the word.

You wouldn’t let him.

You were so determined, but with a flash of blue light and a few muttered profanities, you were disarmed as easily as a raging mouse, thrown back into humanity as your back hit the floor and the sole of Dazai’s shoe planted itself in your diaphram. “Bad dog,” He spat, grinding his heel into your chest, letting his weight render you breathless before he bothered to go on. “Bad dog, bad dog. And just when I thought you’d come around, too.”

He allowed himself one more kick, another scoff before he bothered to regain his oh-so-superior composure with a sigh, a shake of his head and a stare so pitying, you had to be the one to avert your eyes. You ribs throbbed, a deep, bruising pain etching itself into your skin and your muscle and everything beneath it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to worry about injury, about your familiar physical limitations.

“I thought you’d learned your lesson,” He growled, pawing at the pocket of his vest until he found what he was looking for - a sleek, rectangular case, its contents consisting of a syringe and two vials. You might’ve been able to identify the substance it contained, but Dazai’s grin drew you away, broad and ruthless and cruel. So, so cruel.

More primal than you could ever hope to be.

“I guess we’ll need to try something a little stronger, won’t we, love?”

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yokelish · 4 years ago

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Worth millions II

✏ Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs ✏ Characters: Chūya Nakahara, Dazai Osamu ✏ Word count: 1,977 ✏ Warnings: Ansgstober in November. ✏ Part I.

Dazai abandoned him after promising he wouldn’t. “People change, Chūya.” What a devious bastard. This miserable vagabond is incapable of change. Nakahara wasn’t disappointed. Not that he had much strength to hold on to disappointment, only persistent resentment. That crafty bastard was twisted to his very core. Nothing changes, and nothing can touch him. Maybe that quality was fanning the embers of Chūya’s hatred: Dazai’s ability to escape any sort of retribution. Slippery like a snake, crafty, and absolutely unscrupulous. The moment you think the hand of fate is about to touch him, it’s absolutely nullified. Dazai didn’t lose any people to Q’s curse, while Nakahara had to count the body bags. Dazai was never stabbed in the back since he was doing the stabbing, always. He was the one making the deals and collecting dues. He never lost, even in silly arcade games. Always unaffected, always unhurt, always a perfect player. The taller they stand the harder they fall. Deep down Chūya knew it was no longer about what his ex-partner deserved. It wasn’t about rivalry or revenge. He rather sadistically wanted to witness there was something that could touch Dazai, something that could hurt. Something to prove the bandaged bastard was just a tiny bit capable of feeling pain. Pity Chūya couldn’t do it himself. It would bring him immense satisfaction. No money he wouldn’t pay to see an expression of hurt, of pain, on Dazai’s face. To behold such masterpiece. Unfortunately, he can never buy it. He cannnot bring it to life, can’t push for it. Perhaps, it was time to admit he couldn’t hurt Dazai the way he wanted him to hurt. That sort of anguish Nakahara could never inflict to begin with. To twist the sinews of that rotten heart only for it to begin to beat? To bear witness to that moment, to look him in the eye… That would be truly marvellous. Chūya would relish in that moment if only he could. But it wasn’t in his power.

If there was no enemy who could take on Dazai — if karmic retribution was just a fancy tale to soothe a grudging soul, — then there could be only way for Chūya to get what he wanted. He refused to believe Dazai could forever remain untouchable. It had to be just the right sort of…touch. “Plus, I don’t know how I would look them in the eye.” It was never an issue before. Dazai was a perfect machine, an Executive with mafia-black blood. Hesitation wasn’t a part of his nature. The Agency might be riding the high horse, but why would it stop someone like him? Lie, writhe your way out. Dazai detested Q and their ability, Chūya knew firsthand. He felt the same, especially after the massacre. So why did that bandaged wretch resist it? People might change, but people and humanity have nothing to do with Dazai. “A logical decision.” No, it couldn’t simply be that when it came to someone as crafty as Dazai. He held himself back and it had to be for some selfish, miserable reason.

The only person who was good at getting to Dazai was he himself. His own arrogance got him wrecked by that inhuman thing from the Guild. His taunting what got him punched in the face. The only person who could bring down Dazai would be Dazai himself. People might be capable of change. Dazai wasn’t. Something about tonight’s escapade made Chūya sure of that. The bastard said it himself, and his prediction do always come true. “But relationships are built on trust and honesty.” The things Dazai could never offer: trust, honesty, loyalty. And nothing has changed. The vagabond could never run away from his shady nature, he wouldn’t this time either. Shadows only grow longer at the end of the day. Someone would have to wipe that sickening smile off his face. And Chūya would do anything to see that. If he couldn’t do it himself, he would still gladly watch as Dazai becomes his own undoing. For that one single sweetest moment of Dazai’s self-realization and anguish of knowing he did it himself, Chūya would gladly give millions. And the thought of it alone brought a sweet, vanilla ice-cream taste to his mouth.

Dazai was returning to his laughably cheap Agency-issued apartment somewhere before dawn. Still snickering about what had happened with his ex-partner. But aside from humour, he also felt a long-forgotten satisfaction from taunting the small dog. A good book is always good, no matter how many times you read it. Something about taunting Chūya was of similar nature, never getting boring. The anger painting a face sharp and vivid, the resentment amplifying now estranged voice. Lovely and complete picture. Dazai walked up to the door of his apartment, humming a soft melody of amusement. Yet the best moment was hat rack’s horrible realization dawning slowly yet powerfully. Knowing that he was toyed with, read with ease like a children’s book. That expression took away some of the pain from the punch thrown. Dazai turned the doorknob. The metal felt cold against his skin. “You like them, don’t you?” He found the answer as he was phrasing the question. He knew his ex-partner all too well. Nakahara really did not have a good enough mask to hide behind. Nothing had changed there. Was it strange to know they happened to be drawn towards the same person? Hm, ‘drawn towards’ isn’t quite the expression Dazai would use in his case. He sighed as his amusement disappeared, gone without a trace or even an echo to follow it into the distance.

“Oh god, finally.” All too familiar voice inside his apartment. It echoed, filling him with dread. “I was worried.”

He entered without much noise, expecting nothing. Yet they were here, waiting patiently despite sounding exhausted. He didn’t expect to see anyone. He didn’t want to see anyone.

“Are you alright?” they asked, worried. “Let me turn on the—”

“Don’t,” Dazai interjected, making half a step towards them. But that was the end of it. Two silhouettes frozen in the splitting darkness of the room. The first light of the day beyond the horizon creeping inside.

“I have first aid kit with me,” they offered. Dazai could feel the shaking of disturbed silence like a slumbered beast prodded. And he couldn’t make himself move or say anything. He felt blank, optionless, knowing, perhaps, that any choice he’d make would be the wrong one. Of course, they entered his apartment. Amusingly good pick locker that one. What grated him is that he didn’t notice the disturbance or predicted this situation. And that, somehow, that felt like a betrayal.

“You are both blessed and cursed that you can’t rely on Yosano’s help to fix you up,” they continued talking, moving towards him cautiously. “I hate to do it in this light, but…” The willed objected floated behind them suspended in the air, beckoned by their ability.

“I’m sorry,” they spoke quietly, cautiously. There was a light touch against his forehead, he used it as an excuse to turn away, create more distance. Looking askew, anywhere but at them. As the light of the day was slowly filing the room and creating long shadows. The silence between them was a tame beast, stirring but not waking.

They draw a long shaky breath as a telling sign of unease. “I shouldn’t have gone behind your back like that.”

Every possible choice he had was a wrong one, Dazai knew. What should he say in this situation? Claim that it didn’t bother him would only make them more suspicious of his truthfulness. A too easy forgiveness would seem dismissive. There was no umbrage to admit to either. But he doubted that would be taken at face value. Their sudden presence inside his apartment was a greater grievance, but he would only come across as ungrateful and reticent.

“I just thought,” they tried to continue, voicing failing and fading out. “I just thought I could get—”

“Information,” Dazai finished the sentence passively. It didn’t really bother him. There was no surprise to this, no disappointment, no resentment. He would have done the same. It was just… lacking. Perhaps, something in him knew that this would happen and soon. But he felt nothing, feels nothing regarding the matter as if it was something awfully routine.

“To know you,” they corrected him sternly. So sternly, in fact, it sounded comedic. He barely contained his laugh. But despite the steadiness of their voice, Dazai didn’t buy into that false confidence. He heard their breathing moments before, the hesitation, the care put into their words. It didn’t flatter him the least.

He sighed. What a kind yet empty attempt to appease on both sides. “To know about me. To know me, that’s—”

“I meant what I said. To know you.” Gentle hands dropped from his forehead and on their knees as if in defeat. “You left, Dazai. You left Port Mafia. People don’t just leave those sorts of places on a whim. Especially, someone like you… You were something there, Dazai. Someone.”

“I was just one of the Executives,” he brushed it off. As if that sort of chip on one’s shoulder could be so easily snubbed. “You want to know what I’ve done.”

Their uneasy laugh surprised Dazai. “No, I am not devoid of imagination,” they said with a touch of humour in their voice. It wasn’t funny, both knew. One hand was placed on his shoulder, the other gently wiped the wound on his forehead. There were many minor cuts and bruises, but they only touched those visible and easily accessible. Gentle, non-invasive, almost respectful.

“You can’t hold it against me,” they continued to talk never ceasing to take care of him. Dazai could hear the smile in their voice but couldn’t see it, wouldn’t dare. For such close proximity and physical contact, they had yet to meet eye to eye. “Wanting to know why you came there and why you left later. But I admit that I went about it the wrong way.”

They never asked him why he came to Port Mafia or why he left. And, truthfully, he couldn’t blame them for not asking. He wouldn’t be able to meet an expectations of a full and honest answer. Dazai didn’t have such answer himself yet, and what words he could offer would never touch another person’s heart. The answer he could give right now was anything but guileless or cordial. To meet expectations he’d have to look inside himself and he hated doing that. Wasn’t it enough that he did?

“No,” they answered. “You have to say something.”

What could he say? Every option would turn out to be wrong in the end. There was no desired way out of this situation. It could only be buried as an unspoken thing between them. Then it would sprout into something else — something dichotomous — and eventually grow bigger than them. What could he say to kill the seed before it sprouted? “You like them, don’t you? You like them.” As bitter as it was, Dazai had to admit one thing Chūya was better at was being simply human.

“I better go—”

“I accept your apology,” Dazai stated neutrally. He couldn’t take a moment longer to pitifully ponder his answer and try to predict less messy outcome. He knew that if he simply let them leave it would be the end of it. His own undoing delivered in a single precise blow.

“And I don’t blame you for wanting to know,” he placed his hand on top of theirs, taking it away from his forehead. For the first time their eyes meet. And he lost confidence in his plan. A simple lie to meet their expectations melted in his mouth leaving a sweet aftertaste.

#yokelishtorturesenglish #bsd fanfic #bsd scenarios #bsd imagines #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader

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spring-days-at-dusk · 4 years ago

Text

Beast Translation Update!

Hey! Me again. Something’s come up so my typesetter won’t be free until the 22nd of December. I’m sorry for the delay and would like to thank everyone for your patience. In the meantime, under the cut are chapter summaries I wrote for those that really want to find out what happened! Sorry they’re pretty long for summaries since I suck at being concise, hope you enjoy!

Beast Chapter 8 Summary [Title: The Beast Called Myself]

Oda asked Akutagawa to babysit the kids he looks after for three days while Oda is away on a business trip. Akutagawa is very upset at this, even more so when Oda refers to him as the eldest of the kids he looks after.

On the first day of babysitting, Akutagawa uses his ability to play with the kids. The second day, he visits Sakura’s class and helps motivate her to answer the teacher’s question.

On the third day, Kousuke cooks a meal for Akutagawa and asks him to give him combat training. Kousuke explains that he wants to get stronger to join the detective agency like Oda, who he says is like an older brother to him. He pulls out a gun that he bought himself and Akutagawa is surprised that a criminal would sell a gun to a child.

The combat training begins and Akutagawa is very clearly winning the fight. Akutagawa then puts a gun up to his own head but Rashomon blocks all the bullets. He says that he hates guns, explaining that they cause people to grow ignorant, which he says is the reason his friends were killed. He uses his ability to destroy the gun and tells Kousuke that if he ever steps foot in front of Akutagawa with a gun again, he’ll kill him.

Oda returns from his business trip and apologizes for ‘leaving the dirty work’ to Akutagawa (i.e. fighting Kosuke), since Oda says that if he were to fight Kosuke, it would only ‘fuel his admiration’. Akutagawa says that Kosuke isn’t cut out for fighting and would be better off becoming a chef. He says that Kosuke is too willing to sacrifice himself for his younger siblings to survive in a heartless world. Oda then gives Akutagawa some of his wisdom, telling him not to chase ‘the beast of yourself’.

Akutagawa asks if this was all set up just for Oda to try to convince him to control himself when fighting ‘the man in black’. Oda denies that though. Akutagawa finished the conversation by saying he was wrong about Kosuke. Oda responds with ‘I hope so’.

Back in the cafe under the ADA, Akutagawa calls Kunikida to try to get out of doing any paperwork when the door swings open and Atsushi enters.

Beast Chapter 9 Summary [Title: Encounter, Part 1]

Atsushi tells Akutagawa that he was asked to deliver a letter to the president of the ADA. However, he got lost on the way and it started raining so he had to take shelter in the cafe. To Atsushi’s relief, Akutagawa tells him that the ADA is on the fourth floor of the building they are in.

Atsushi puts three sugar cubes into his coffee and says that his coworkers always tell him it’s too much. He says he can’t help it due to the place he grew up. ‘An orphanage’ says Akutagawa. Atsushi asks how he knew that. Akutagawa explains that he grew up in a similar environment. Atsushi seems distraught as he says that the natural instinct to use a lot of sugar is probably something that he’ll have for the rest of his life. Much to Atsushi’s surprise, Akutagawa replies by saying he uses four cubes of sugar in his tea.

Atsushi asks if Akutagawa knows about how everyone was always fighting to get their hands on pencils and notebooks. Akutagawa says ‘of course’. He then asks if Atsushi knows about chocolate bars. Atsushi responds with “Of course, it’s a type of currency, isn’t it? There’s relatively a lot, but everyone always wants it, so its value remains constant. Therefore it naturally became used as currency.”

Akutagawa says that at one point, for a while he ate nothing but chocolate bars and then collapsed due to malnutrition. Atsushi bursts out laughing at this.

Atsushi tells him that this is the first time he talked about this. He then asks Akutagawa to deliver the letter for him and asks what his name is. They exchange names.

Akutagawa then asks who sent the letter and Atsushi says it’ll be clear who sent it when the letter is opened. Akutagawa says to be safe, he has to check what’s in the letter in case it’s something dangerous.

Inside the letter, Akutagawa finds a photo of Gin. He asks Atsushi if he knows the person in the photo, Atsushi says he does but is confused as to why the boss put a photo of her in the letter. Akutagawa’s rage is building as he asks Atsushi to tell him where Gin is. Atsushi says he can’t tell Akutagawa where she is, since there is a rule in his organization stating that if you ever find someone searching for Gin, you must kill them. Akutagawa then announces that Gin is his little sister. Atsushi doesn’t believe him, saying she doesn’t have any family. The two begin fighting. They’re pretty evenly matched and eventually Atsushi decides to leave. He says he has to report this to his boss and ask him why there was a photo of Gin in the letter.

Akutagawa tries to stop him from leaving but some mysterious attack renders him unconscious.

Beast Chapter 9.5 (Title: Encounter, Part 2)

Akutagawa thinks about his past, when Dazai told him that he would keep his sister until he figured out what his weakness is. The words of Oda also echo in his mind: “Don’t chase the beast of yourself.” He also tells Akutagawa that he ‘will surely be given a chance for redemption’.

Akutagawa then wakes up and notices his wound is gone. Yosano tells him to follow her and the two head to a room with some of the other ADA members and a projector.

A video is played on the projector of a meeting between Chief Taneda and Dazai Osamu. Kunikida says that Ranpo found out that this video was taken by the government and Tanizaki then says that Oda snuck in and got the video, saying the dangerous mission took Ranpo and Oda three days. Kunikida explains the science behind how the video was secretly obtained using luminous flux waves.

Kunikida then plays the video, in which Chief Taneda says that he heard that Dazai assassinated Mori, Dazai responds with “That’s quite the troublesome information network you have”.

Akutagawa says that he recognized Dazai to be ‘the man in black’. He asks Kunikida to tell him where Dazai is. Kunikida says that he’s on the top floor of the Port Mafia headquarters but explains to Akutagawa that getting to him is impossible. He tells Akutagawa that if he goes, he’ll die. Akutagawa says that it doesn’t matter. He tells Kunikida about the photo of Gin in the letter Atsushi gave him. He says that since Atsushi is reporting to Dazai that Akutagawa is looking for Gin, then Dazai will know he’s coming, causing him to reinforce security and disappear. Alternatively, Akutagawa thinks Dazai might threaten to kill Gin. Tanizaki tells Akutagawa to wait, saying if he goes alone he’ll be killed. Akutagawa shoves him and leaves anyway.

A group of armed men spot Akutagawa approaching and are ordered to kill him.

Beast Chapter 10 (Title: Scheme)

Akutagawa begins infiltrating the port mafia headquarters. He remembers his first meeting with Dazai, who called him ‘an unintelligent, dangerous animal’ and he thinks about his friends calling out to him for help. He demands to be told where Dazai is. Kyouka then makes an appearance. Akutagawa tells her to get out of the way and that even if she’s a little girl, he’ll kill her if needed. Kyouka says no matter what she’ll silence Akutagawa to protect ‘that person’ (Atsushi).

Dazai asks if Atsushi knows who the intruder is, he tells him about their encounter in the cafe. Atsushi requests permission to ask Dazai a question. He asks if it is true that Akutagawa is Gin’s older brother. Dazai says it is true. Atsushi then says “You wanted the Mafia headquarters to be attacked, didn’t you?”. Dazai says he did and then begins a monologue about how the smallest things can lead to large natural disasters, implying that this is all a part of a much larger picture.

Akutagawa and Kyouka continue fighting, Kyouka talks about a time when she tried to leave the port mafia, a person was sent after her to kill her and she says that person was much stronger than Akutagawa. Akutagawa remembers when Oda told him that “when it comes to physical combat, your body’s frailty comes to light” so Akutagawa decides to ‘turn this fight into a battle of abilities’. Akutagawa seems to think he’s about to win when Atsushi comes to kyouka’s rescue. Kyouka tells atsushi that she felt if she didn’t fight Akutagawa, he’d go up against Atsushi and one of them would die. Atsushi reassures her that he won’t die, that he’ll never let her be alone in the darkness. Akutagawa remarks that “there are kind hearted murderers

huddled together in this organization of darkness”. He says the thought could move him to tears, however he did research about Kyouka and Atsushi, calling them ‘the murderer of 35 people’ and ‘the white reaper of the port mafia’. He says that “ No matter how much you grasp onto each other with your bloodied hands, you will never be able to feel one another’s warmth”. Atsushi then responds by saying “That might be true. But even if that’s the case, then you and Gin san will never be able to feel one another’s warmth either”

Thank you for reading the summaries! Hope you like them <3 Sorry they’re so wordy and once again, thank you all so much for your patience.

#bsd #bsd translations #bsd translator #bsd beast #bsd beast au #bsd beast translation #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungou stay dogs translation #bsd beast spoilers #bsd beast manga

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ruubles · 3 years ago

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A Bundle of Crimson Roses (Pt.2)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairings: Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

Warnings: Cursing , Alcohol , Suggestive Themes , Gore , Blood, Violence

Word Count: 7,234

“It has been quite some time since I was last in this room, four years if my memory serves me correctly.” (Y/N)’s hands entwined themselves with one another, nails digging harshly into the subtly soft skin along the back of her hand. Across the table were numerous pairs of eyes trailed along every movement as if at any moment she would seize the opportunity to kill. If it had been back before her leave, then perhaps she would’ve taken the gamble and gone for such a kill; But time has its way of weakening even the strongest of wills

“I believe you’re right. The last meeting you attended was just before you had taken the position in Russia.” There was no helping the sharp laugh that scratched through her throat, bleeding into the air as if it were a snarl from a wild beast. Ogai quirked an eyebrow as he took his rightful spot at the head of the table, it was as though he hadn’t remembered that day the same as she had.

It had been merely a week after Oda’s passing and without Dazai, Mori knew of no way to keep her ability under his control: Everyone in the Port Mafia was under high pressure with the sudden disappearance of an executive. The people under her command during that time must have informed Ogai of a sudden increase in impulsive decisions because before there was time to fix it she had been called to his office. There wasn’t room for objection when he informed (Y/N) of her new position, a reassignment to the Russian wing of the mafia effective immediately. That same night she was on a plane flying two thousand miles away from the only home she’d ever known.

That was four years ago and the most that had been heard from the boss were small orders spread thinly across the months, each one less and less specified until he had eventually stopped communication all together. It had been for the better benefits of both parties, without Ogai constantly looking over her shoulder she was truly able to help the mafia flourish and even go as far as berading the Russian Mafia into equal standing. Without the threat of her abilities looming in his ranks, Mori had taken over a large deal of the weapons smuggling in Japan which in turn had nearly doubled the yearly profits.

“Taking the position would imply that it had been offered, where I am certain it had been ordered. You hadn’t given me the choice to stay or to go before you handed me an executive order and told me to make my way to the headquarters.” Their gazes met from across the table, his eyes as cold as the continuous fall of snow that occured on a daily basis in Russia. Her words seemed to have sparked a memory in his steelin eyes, glossing them over as he recalled what the happenstance for her leave had been.

Russia wasn’t that bad of a place, it was actually quite the opposite once she had managed to sort through the chaos that was the mafia. It had only taken a month to reclaim almost all of the Far East and once that area was under her command, SIberia was quick to follow suit. Though Ural had been a warzone for a year before they managed to snuff out any traces of the Russian Mob, but by defying odds, they managed to come out of it with the lesser amount of casualties. As of now there are attempts to make connections in Volga, though it is slow moving since the mob seemed to know every move that had been planned to make. The northwestern, central, and north regions are still under the unwavering control of the mob: People loyalties didn’t seem to change even as they watched the rise in strength of the Port Mafia.

Southern Russia was a whole different tale for both sides. It was a no man's land filled to the brim with rats. No matter how long they fought with the mob, both sides had come to terms with the liabilities faced with the presence of such insullant people in what had been claimed as their land. Both could kill each other ruthlessly for months, but in the end they’d both agreed that the destruction of Dostoevsky was to come first and foremost: He posed a greater threat even with such slim numbers.

“My apology, it must have slipped my mind at some point since your departure. It was quite a hectic time for us all.” Ogai lowered his gaze, no longer holding that insufferable chill but instead what resembled some sorts of regret. For the seven years (Y/N) had been working under him, she hadn’t seen him hold such a sorrowful look since the Dragon’s Head Conflict. Even then it was more ruth than regret, he hadn’t been sorry for the lives that were lost but for those who survived to hold their memory. Ogai Mori focused on the future and honored those that had paid for it with their lives, he hadn’t time to mourn their passing.

“Hectic is an understatement. It was chaotic.” Her hands fiddled with the fork, a chunk of chocolate cake still sitting soundly on its tip. It had nearly forgotten as they’d moved to a topic she’d tried so desperately to forget. Now it seemed to be the only thing that could capture her attention. “Any word on Dazai? Last time he and I spoke was before Oda’s death and then he was gone.”

“He resurfaced two years ago working under the Armed Detective Agency.” Ogai seemed delighted to change the topic, but he wanted even more to return to why she’d been brought back to Japan. He wouldn’t be as rude as to force the conversation to go back to it but eventually they'd need to delve deeper into the issue they were facing. For now, a sense of normality should be rebuilt to keep everybody in the organization calm.

“Yukichi been giving you a hard time Ogai?” Yukichi Fukuzawa and Mori Ogai had both done a large favor for her shortly after she’d agreed to work under the mafia’s guidance, though the two fought for opposing goals. Her situation had managed to bring them to a mutual point of interest- one that brought reward for both parties involved. If it hadn’t been for their aid then both her and Isaac would likely be far different people than the ones who work so diligently to protect the few things they’d managed to so selfishly cling to for these years. “That old man is as hard headed as ever I assume. It must be difficult for any of you to make any progress in furthering your goals.”

Ogai nodded and with nimble fingers took off his gloves, the white material slipping off digit after digit to reveal the pale skin that seemed to radiate with a grim promise of light. If it wasn’t for the blood that stained them red he would surely be seen as an angel. Usually Mori preferred to keep his gloves on, but in the presence of someone who could now be considered of equal status it was more so a show of distrust. This was his motion to return the conversation to the topic that has been standing still in the room, even if we diverted the people’s ears to something else their minds would still be clouded with the possibility of losing their abilities. A simple gesture that spoke so much if you had the skill that was required to read the motions of other people. She had been taught that skill for longer than I could remember, it had become more of a curse than a blessing.

“Everyone’s been briefed on the bare minimum of the situation we’re facing and I’d like to know if you could add anything to it (Y/N).” Mori had already given as much as he knew of what they are up against and finding more was difficult to say the least. Information brokers had their loyalties but fear outweighed even the motion of getting paid for a job, but that fear gave hints as to who exactly could manufacture a drug like this one.

(Y/N) put the final piece of cake down, it had been on her fork for several minutes and yet she hadn’t found the heart to take the final bite. So many thoughts had found their way into her mind and dug into scorned memories that it made it difficult to even consider stomaching the delicious sweets from Ms.Young’s bakery.

Information was an important detail when it came to dealing with any affair, but finding any regarding this new threat would be more difficult than anyone could have thought. Assumptions made by (Y/n) always had a habit of playing out in one way or another. but with something so dangerous threatening to cut at our numbers, it was important that they worked more on fact than fiction.

“I’ve contacted seven brokers in the past twelve hours, none of them have any news on this drug you’re talking about. If it actually does exist then it’s a miracle you even found out about.” She grabbed the papers she’d brought with her and pushed the near finished plate of cake to the side. Fingers ran along the edges of the sheets filled with useless nonsense that wouldn’t help formulate even the simplest of plans. “Mori I need you to be honest with me, how did you find out about this drug.”

“One of our members got shot during a raid this week.” Her eyes moved up from the paperwork to the elder man sitting by Koyo, Ryuro Hirotsu. The black lizards were skilled members of the Port Mafia so being able to take down one of their members was an accomplishment to say the least. “Whoever manufactured that type of bullet knew what they were doing: She had completely lost her ability within five minutes of it being administered.”

“Where are they now?”

“Gone. Assassinated in her own home last night .” Everyone in the room could practically feel the anger radiating from Tachihara, his fists clenched the edge of the table as he gave his enraged answer. The Mafia was seen as cruel and heartless but even they cared for the lives of their members, their friends. Even people like (Y/N) who hadn’t found a close comrade would still take the time to learn the names and faces of those they would be working with: She herself had taken several hours to do so last night in hopes of knowing the majority of the people who would be attending this meeting.

A deep sigh rasped through her chest, chipping at the calm demeanor she’d managed to hold to since her return. Her head fell back and a loud smack was heard as it came into contact with the wooden back of the chair. Things never seemed to work out in favor of the young executive: You could see as such by the way her (E/C) eyes flickered with such hopeless pain and then returned to their usual gravely glare.

Chuuya watched his new partner with interest, his curiosity from last night now coming to a peak as he learned new bits of information about the woman who he’d only briefly spoken with. It seemed as though she was on good enough terms with Mori but that still didn’t gain his trust: In his line of work, it was important to hold his hand close to his chest as to not allow any scurrilous people to see who he’d become close with. For now he would hold his complaints with an overstrung tongue until she did what he expected from anyone who came close nowadays; Leave him to rot without a second thought as to how much of a pain it would be to fill the void they’d created.

“Have you moved the body?” Her head still remained laxed as she asked the question, addressing it to anyone who had an answer to give. It was as though such simple words had deflated her hopes, jabbing at any resilient confidence that she’d held to throughout the restless night.

“No.” Tachihara was quick to answer with a stern but simple response that left no room for doubt.

“There it is.” (Y/N) leaned forward, (H/L) hair masking her face in a cascading shadow. Her eyes trailed along the table as though she was placing pieces of a puzzle together, each one falling into its designated place as all those sitting around Mori’s table awaited her explanation. Chuuya leaned forward in anticipation to hear what this new comrade was saying. “The first lead.”

Around the table people collected their ideas and made harsh implications as to who exactly this mystery executive was. Out of the dozen people sitting solemnly in the room, only three had any prior knowledge of her and they made the correct decision not to hold a crude attitude towards her. Mori had, of course, known of (Y/N) for the longest time of the three: Having met her when she was only fifteen, several months after he’d taken the place of the former boss. Kouyou had shared little words with her but knew of her abilities to maintain such a high position in the mafia with what seemed to her as little effort. Hirotsu had merely known her name and had been tasked with keeping her under guard until this meeting, though he had ultimately failed, seeing as she managed to slip away only an hour after their first conversation.

(Y/N) pushed her chair away with a loud screech that seemed to push away the silence still filling the room. Her hands made deft work of the paper, their corners aligning in mere seconds as she ran her hands along their sides. The final piece of cake still laid untouched on the plate that now sat abandoned atop the table. Without a second glance, she turned, (E/C) eyes set sharply on the door, feet moving with gentle clicks of her heel; Her motions could be deemed practiced as she so confidently strode away from some of the most heinous criminals in the city. “Do you fear me?”

The room's quizzing thoughts seemed to come to a stop all at once, everyone’s eyes drifting back to the woman who was only inches from the door. Chuuya was prepared to follow her from the room, as they were now partners, but he stayed still with a significant interest in what she was saying. Of course she hadn’t meant to address any of those around the room as they had seen nothing of what abilities she truly possessed; Mori had.

“With your vehement skills I doubt there are many who do not fear for their life in your presence. I’ve been lucky to keep your loyalties under my reign, so I will not make the mistake of giving an answer to this question.” Mori stood, gloved hands folded behind his back in an almost arrogant manor. “I must commend how powerful you are (Y/N). Far beyond what I’d expected when I’d first had the pleasure of meeting you.”

Her laugh was gentle, like the crimson petals of a rose dripping with fresh morning dew in the fields of Elysium. It was a pleasant sound that caught any person’s ear and forced their head to her. “You are far more reserved than many of the people I’ve met in my lifetime, but I quite like that quality. Mori Ogai, may your rule over the mafia be beneficial to this city.”

Without another word, she left.

~ x ~

Chuuya hesitantly looked over to the passenger of his car, his vermillion eyes trapped by her hunched figure. (Y/N)’s eyes scanned over the passing city, lights twinkling in the gloomy darkness of the night. The two hadn’t spoken to one another since (Y/N) had made her departure from the meeting; Their current situation had come about when she’d seen Chuuya leaving and he motioned for her to join him. He’d had a plan to speak with her but the silence that followed his gracious offer had swatted away that idea near instantaneously

This scenario hadn’t gone to either of their likings, Chuuya had wanted to go alone without the burden of another partner weighing him down. Yet when he saw her standing still in the setting light, waiting for something, he had the urge to strike up what would hopefully be another exhilarating conversation. Perhaps that was his desire to know who he’d be working with in these coming days in fear that they would become someone similar to his last partner.

On the other hand, (Y/N) didn’t mind either way if he were to accompany her or not. She’d been standing before the mafia’s headquarters waiting for a car that Mori claimed would pick her up soon, but after ten minutes she’d given up hope and decided instead to join Chuuya. Personally, she’d wished to make her way to the scene as soon as she’d left the meeting, but Mori hadn’t given her the go ahead until the sun began to set. It had been an annoying situation in her opinion but with the added hours of recreational time she’d managed to check-in with the mafioso who’d taken to running the Russian portion of the Port Mafia in her absence. Everything was going according to plan, which would mean that hopefully she’d be flying back to Russia within the week.

A quiet ring fluttered through the stifling silence but neither of them made a move for their phones. Chuuya could see his dark screen, without any sign of contact from his underlings. He knew it had to be her who was receiving a call but never did she move to answer; Instead her eyes, hollow and void, stayed trailed on the passing buildings. Soon those towering works of architecture would turn to natural tree’s of a forest as they neared their destination. After several minutes, the phone’s ring stopped only to start a moment later.

Sighing, (Y/N) reached into her pocket and pulled the phone to where she could see it. Her hands made quick work to silence the ringer but she didn’t ignore the call. Instead she pressed the answer button and brought the device to her ear. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Isaac was quick to the point, annoyance obvious in the way his loud words stabbed through her ear. Chuuya heard mumbled shouts through the line but couldn’t quite make out what was being said. “Dinner’s ready and I’ve yet to even receive a message from you, so I’m going to make the assumption that you haven’t even left the office yet.”

“I’ve left the office.” (Y/N)’s eyed the street as Chuuya made a sharp right turn, it was a clean motion that made it clear he was well acquainted with his car. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to make it in time. Mori has me doing some recon with a new partner.”

“Are you fucking kidding me!” Isaac snapped through the phone, she could only imagine the look of anger that had likely appeared on his face from her honest claim. Her plan had been to take her time checking out the scene then be back to town in time for Isaac to take her home, but Mori had put her in a bit of disposition. Instead, it was late and she wouldn’t be back in town for a while. “If I had my ability connected to you then I’d drag you here myself, but I guess this can’t be helped. You better make it up to them though; Disappointing me is a usual occurrence for you but they deserve more than that.”

Chuuya felt a bit bad as he could see the tiredness on her face and he knew that whoever was shouting on the other end of the line wasn’t helping. He watched as she took a deep breath, chest beginning to rise and fall in a pattern. “I’ll find a way. Have a nice night.”

Not long after she’d wish him a nice night did Isaac hang up the phone, two beeps signaling the ending of the phone call. She pocketed the device and leaned into the window once more, heat from her body causing fog to slowly creep along the once clear glass. Chuuya opened his mouth as if he wanted to ask a question, but there was little he could think to say as he watched her dissociate from her surrounding environment. Part of him believed she was naive, joining him in his car without even asking a question and the way she trusted him enough to turn her back to him in such a confined space, but he didn’t see her reflection. Though the latter was far different, her eyes had been glued to his reflection in the window from the moment she’d situated herself in his passenger seat; She waited for the moment he’d make an attempt to do something, anything, but it never came.

“Thank you for the ride.” It had taken a half hour for either of them to brave past the awkwardness inside the car and her tone was quiet as if she didn’t truly want to say them, but Chuuya took the moment to continue on.

“It’s no problem, I’d just finished up some paperwork and thought you could use a ride if we’re going to the same place. We are going to the same place, right?” The sudden realization hit that he hadn’t a clue where she wanted to go and he wanted to be sure that their destination was agreed upon. “The crime scene?”

(Y/N) chuckled at his distressed words, “That would be correct.”

Once again a silence overtook the car, their momentary conversation coming to an end after only a short share of sentences. (Y/N) had taken to her phone, it's screen alight as she scrolled through what seemed to be countless messages. After several minutes of reading she began to click away a very sternly worded message to one of her subordinates. Chuuya went back to driving, his eyes ever so often glancing at his GPS to ensure he was still driving in the right direction.

“You never answered my question.” (Y/N) slammed her phone down on her lap and Chuuya pretended not to notice her obvious anger. Chuuya quirked a brow at her question, head turning to meet her (E/C) eyes in the darkness. She was obviously tired with the way her eyes sunk into her skull and the bags presented them self so sternly. “Did you enjoy the wine?”

“Oh. Yeah, I did. It was quite the bottle, didn’t think I’d be drinking anything that fancy last night.” His face turned sour at an unpleasant memory. “Also didn’t think I’d be drinking as disgusting as the one your friend offered me.”

“In Isaac’s defense, I did ask him for the shittiest bottle he had on the shelf. Apparently it’s the one he gives to people he doesn’t like.” She smiled and turned her phone over when a message made the screen turn on once again. “Might explain why he gave it to me.”

“I thought you two looked close, was my assumption of friends not correct?”

(Y/N) dropped her head, skull smacking against the headrest as she let out a bitter laugh once again. “Isaac and I are a lot more than friends, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t hate him a majority of the time. He’s quite pretentious.”

“You’re different from that woman I met last night; More uptight, scrutinous. That woman who stole my hat wouldn’t have asked a mafia boss if he was scared of her.”

“What can I say, I have many different faces. Same could be said for you Mr.Nakahara.” (Y/N) jabbed at his last name, using a formality that he didn’t truly enjoy. Not many called him by his last name, though it was seen as informal in Japan, and he preferred it that way. “You seem a lot more relaxed than when you were yelling at that young man in the hallway this morning.”

Chuuya’s face fell as he recalled this morning's events: The hangover had only heightened his senses and formed a brutal knot that attacked his head throughout the day. While on his way to the meeting he’d had a run-in with a newer mafioso who had purposely bumped shoulders with Chuuya thinking he was better than the executive himself. That had ended in quite the outburst on the executives half, it had been loud but it got the point across. Disrespect was intolerable in Chuuya’s eyes and the ache in his head had only been nurtured by the yelling he’d done, so of course his anger at the newer member only increased as the day went on. He knew it was wrong but there was little he’d have done differently.

“He was a little punk.” Chuuya grumbled.

They both fell back into a silence, but it no longer rang with an unsaid tension or insatiable curiosity. Instead it seems to flutter with a peaceful wisp of camaraderie as both parties came to a mutual understanding: Neither of them wanted to be partners but until they could find a way out of this arraignment, they might as well do the bare minimum and get along with one another. It would be better not to build any new alliances to the core of the port mafia considering as soon as this was solved, (Y/N) would be flying back to Russia and likely wouldn’t maintain contact with anyone she’d met during her time here.

Finally, after what seemed to span the length of hours, Chuuya made the final turn into a large driveway. Whoever had passed was surely paid well during their time at the mafia. The driveway was circular, encasing a large tree with withered branches that seemed to scratch the star filled sky. Two cars were parked in front of a large house that seemed to hold remnants of classical French architecture, several hints of Japanese style building melded nicely with the classical look. It stood tall, enclosed by shorter surrounding trees, but it was still welcoming; Every part of it held a feeling of home as if someone had spent their whole life building wonderful memories inside the building.

(Y/N) was the first to leave the car, not waiting for any gestures of chivalry from the man who had been kind enough to drive her so far from the city. She’d realized quite a long time ago that people would do the bare minimum to help you but would ask for the world in return. Chuuya was quick to follow her lead, hand working to take the key from the ignition before leaving his car and being sure to lock it. The two walked fairly far from one another, their eyes wandering in case there were any unwarranted guests still lurking in the area.

The steps to the front door were quickly scaled, Chuuya using an unnecessary amount of his ability to propel himself up the half a dozen stone stairs. (Y/N) took the steps in pairs and in a moment was standing beside her newly assigned partner: Her eyes began to wander along his body, gathering every bit of his appearance to her memory- from the choker wrapped snugly around his neck and down to the slight heels of his boots. A light red coated his feet for a moment before eventually dissipating; She was left to assume it was his ability, Gravity Manipulation.

She’d spent her night researching the many new people who’d been taken to working under Mori in her absence; Many of them had dark and depressing tales, but she didn’t judge for her’s wasn’t much better. Instead she took note of which part of their past might have pushed them to be considered a vain and villainous member of the Port Mafia: Motives often told if someone would inevitably betray you. Yet the most elusive of them all seemed to be her partner himself, even if he were an executive she should still have had access to any documentation of his early life. Nothing. No mention of a family, no close friends, no reason to live a life like this.

All she got from an hour of scouring documents was his ability, an address, and several mission reports that when looked at through her perspective made little to no sense. Perhaps if she had been closer with Dazai around that time frame then some parts of it would have made more sense: King of Sheep, Arahabaki, Rando. Her only connections to Dazai during those few years were their shared title of executive, several miniature missions during the Dragon’s Head Conflict, and Oda. None of it had made for long, friendly conversations; She was much like him in some ways, never attending the meetings where she might have met Chuuya, but unlike him she never was one to take to a partner or a trainee. Another person would only get in her way.

She was a shadow, faceless to all but those closest to her, feared by those who knew of her power: Mori made sure that her true identity remained furtive. One thing every person opposing the Mafia knew was that trust was never an option, it would only take a single wrong assumption before they’d be stabbed in the back by what was thought to be their friend. Once the Dragon’s Head Conflict had come to an end anybody who knew of her true identity had gone missing under what is still considered ‘Mysterious Circumstances’, of course there were several who still knew what she was capable of but those were the people that there was no need to kill: They were either an ally or to far in her past to matter during that time.

Lost in thought, she was only returned when Chuuya attempted to open the door, soon to realize that it remained locked, a disappointed groan rasped through his chest. He had thought that whoever had been here last might’ve had the common sense to leave it unlocked for when the next investigators were to arrive. The house didn’t officially have an address so supposedly the only people who knew of it were those in the mafia; Well now that list would also include whoever had taken her life. Perhaps it was best that they didn’t have a way into the building, it was very late and (Y/N) seemed to be tiring rather quickly. Chuuya was in a similar stance, his vermilion eyes sunken with the pain of an unending headache.

“Well this is a major bust.” Chuuya made a turn and began to make his way back to his car, its black nearly hiding it in the darkness of the night. After a moment he realized that the presence beside him was missing as (Y/N) still stood rooted to her spot before the large doors. The two waited in silence, Chuuya’s eyes on her and her eye’s on the door blocking her from completing the job.

(Y/N) reeled her leg back, jumpsuit clutching to every inch of her body except for her hands and face- (S/C) fingers balled into fists as she prepared for the incoming impact to the door, face rigid with seriousness but still being just as beautiful as it had been gleaming in the bar light. She was the definition of perfect with a body handcrafted by whatever god pulled the strings of life, it was strange to see how all her little imperfections came together to make something so stunning. Chuuya hadn’t time to admire any of that, instead his focus remained on the fact that she had only the need for a single kick to take the doors down. Their hinges creaked under the force before the doors well flat to the ground with a loud thud.

“No need for a door if she’s dead.” Her words would come off as heartless to anyone, but Chuuya understood what she meant by it. To the latter it was merely her way of saying that they’d come this far and without anyone living inside the building there wasn’t much of a need for a door anymore. Perhaps he should have been angry with the way that she’d worded it, so cruel to a fallen friend of his, but there wasn’t a need to strike an argument over something so trivial. He understood well enough that people in this line of work weren’t ones to usually feel remorse at the loss of a life.

She was first to enter the house, not waiting for her partner to say anything more as she set out to find the truth as to what exactly was the reason behind her return. Mori had given her little information and no broker in the city seemed to know anything so the last hope was dissecting the body of their fallen comrade. Of course she felt forlorn, she hadn’t known this woman but yet was asking her to sacrifice her body for the sake of others. (Y/N) had killed, there was no denying that, but even after all the lives she’d taken, she still wasn’t numb.

Numbness would only succumb when the light of her own eyes dwindled from its constant flicker to a mere ashy stare. Hundreds have died at her hand and she felt little remorse, but every person was like a scar- digging their scared nails across her skin as she killed without mercy. The first scratch always hurts the worst but with every new person falling to their knees before her, the pain slowly begins to fade; But it was still there, in the very depths of her mind. After so many years she might as well just be considered numb; Her dither long since gone and any guilt for the torutre she’d put people through had slowly leaked from her mind as if it were an open drain. Their lives meant little to her, only stepping stools to allow her to climb to her status at the top.

The house was dark, itching with a silence that crept along the corners in fear of being smothered by rattling steps. Chuuya noticed the uneasy air as he walked mere steps behind (Y/N), it was as though the silence itself had taken a conscious form and was preparing to strangle them in a single moment. Their steps mixed to one in a dance of paired solitude and both their breaths seemed to do the same: In seperate bodies they became one to make the sounds of their presence near indistinguishable. In that moment their minor disagreements had faded and they became a team made in heaven but fallen to the hellish life of the mafia. If anyone were to still be in that house then their life would likely soon be ended.

(Y/N) was the first to come to the end of the hall, her steps coming to a halt in a matter of seconds as she scanned the large open area. The hall they passed through had only been twenty paces through the door, meaning that whoever had broken in to commit the crime had either been very quiet or came in via a different route. They had passed several doors along their way but nothing inside them had caught her attention; An office in pristine shape with papers stacked high atop its glimmering wooden surface, a closet only half full of shoes and clothing that likely belonged to a mixture of genders, and a bathroom with a set of standard mission clothes laying on its tile floor. In her mind (Y/N) could see what had happened that night: She had entered her home and quickly stripped from her blood soaked clothing, as for the rest she would likely find more the further she explored the house.

Whoever this woman had been, she had quite the taste in architecture. The hall led into an area that seemed to act as a living room of sorts, a couch and television situated by a large wall of windows. On the other side of the glass was a large garden with paths leading further into the depths of its secrets. To the left was a floating staircase that led to the second story and to the right was a kitchen, only separated from the living room by a marble island.

“I’ll search upstairs and you can take it down here.” Chuuya pushed by (Y/N) as he spoke, his voice low enough so that only she could hear. He doubted that anyone was still in the house, even if there were then they likely knew of their presence, but being cautious in these times would not only keep himself safe but his partner as well. “If you need help then don’t be afraid to call.”

He didn’t wait for a response as he climbed the stairs and disappeared into the depths of the darkness. Standing alone in the center of the house made her surroundings feel so much larger, the space behind her was no longer radiated with warmth. Upstairs she could hear the creak of the floorboards as Chuuya walked down the halls, (Y/N) focused her sights on the kitchen and slowly crept over. Her hand ran along the smooth white walls and finally, upon stepping foot on the kitchen tiles, she felt the light panel beneath her fingers.

She flipped the switch and the light hanging from the ceiling lit the room with a brightness that not even the moon could provide at this hour. Without the darkness lingering through the air (Y/N) was finally able to properly see the area around her. It was sparkling and clean, pristine as though it had been cleaned thoroughly the day before. No blood, no body, and certainly no danger. It was almost peaceful.

Almost.

(Y/N) could see the splatter of blood drenching the cushions of the light gray sofa, the red looked almost black from so far away but she knew the truth behind it. When blood is dried then it darkens and the stain is likely to never be clean from the surface. The woman had rid herself of her blood stained clothes and used a towel to wash away the visible streaks on her skin (It was impossible to erase the ones along her soul) and had rested upon the couch to recuperate from such a burdensome mission; Then she had been killed. Mori had said the body would be covered with a sheet in preparation of dissection, but yet there was no sheet in sight.

Someone had been here long before their arrival, and that person was no friend of the mafia. Whoever had come here and disturbed the scene had taken the body as to prevent any information from being extracted: With the blood having been left out for so long there was likely little remaining information to be collected from it. The body was gone and so were any of the leads that had been left with it. The only hope they had now was if those that had discovered the body before them had been wise enough to at least collect some samples of their DNA.

(Y/N) sighed and left the kitchen, light still fluttering throughout the bottom most floor of the house. Her feet clicked gently against the wooden floors as she slowly walked towards the blood stained couch. The blood clashed violently with the white cushions and it was obvious that her death had been the cause of blood loss, one large pool and several surrounding droplets proposed the idea of a knife wound rather than a gunshot.

She turned away from the stain in an almost defensive manner and scanned the rest of the area, eyes clawing through the darkness searching for something that wasn’t quite there. “Did you find anything down here?”

“Missing body. Cause of death likely a knife wound.” Chuuya jumped down the last two steps and stalked towards her, hands in his pocket. He walked past her and to the couch, his hand trailing along the top of the cushion and down to the stain.

“You figured all of that out from a couple of blood stains?” He nearly chuckled at the confidence that laced itself through her analyses.

“If it were poison there wouldn’t have been a blood stain. Gunshot wounds would be more splattered and less centered around a focal point. Whether it be a stab or a slice across the neck, a knife would cause the blood to drip to a specific point. It’s simple enough logic.” (Y/N) wasn’t paying attention to Chuuya as she spoke, her explanation dripping methodically from her mouth as her (E/C) eyes locked onto something.

The back doors gleamed with reflections of the kitchen's light, but through that bright light were shadows. Dark and dripping with mystery they encased the gazebo in an unnatural darkness. Chuuya continued to talk about what they were to do now, but his words fell on deaf ears as (Y/N)’s hand reached for the door handle. With one hard pull the door slid to the side and made an opening more than large enough for her to pass through. It seemed as though Chuuya hadn’t noticed as he continued to look around the lower floor to look at the stains on the couch.

With little hesitation, (Y/N) left the warmth of the house's walls and stepped into the cold breeze of the autumn outdoors. Her shoes had a different click as they went from the hardwood floor to a pathway of large rocks. The backyard was large and spiraled with countless flowers that danced in the moonlight, hundreds of bushes that still seemed to bloom even in the coming winter. Rows of Lilacs scatter around, their purple clashing violently with the numerous roses bushes scatter about, the red petals dancing with the color of blood and making (Y/N) cringe. They were such beautiful flowers, but they lulled people in with their beauty and then painted their petals red with their victims blood.

The closer she stepped to the gazebo, the more she noticed the shadows retreating as her eyes adjusted to the environment. Finally she was able to see what she had actually caught sight of from the house.

A head, severed from its body laid in a small pool of dried blood, far less than there should have been. It was clear that the head was from the victim, her long hair was matted with blood and the area where her neck met the concrete had gnarled skin and cuts that had scabbed with dried blood. Her eyes were open, glossed over as though she were still alive and trapped in a trance. Her mouth was slightly agape, trails of blood running from the corners of her mouth and down her face.

#bungou sd #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bungou stray dogs kouyou #bungo stray dogs dazai #bungou stray dogs #chuuuya #chuuya nakahara #tw alchohol mention #violence #blood #gore #xreader #reader insert #bsdxreader #mori ougai #port mafia #chuuya x reader #chuuyaxreader #chuuya nakahara x reader

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nolongerwrites · 4 years ago

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Lemme just repost this because my dumbass deleted it by accident a couple of weeks ago 💀

I know the lyrics are misplaced I’m too lazy to fix it rn

How to disappear

“Cuts on his face 'cause he fought too hard”

“I know he's in over his head”

“But I love that man like nobody can”

“He moves mountains and pounds them to ground again”

“I watched the guys getting high as they fight For the things that they hold dear”

“To forget the things they fearThis is how to disappear...”

It had been almost 4-5 years since you’d last seen him. Last you’d Seen the way he’d smile at you when you would walk in the room. The way you would wrap your arms around him from behind when you thought he least expected it, the way you’d cuddle up against him at night like it was the only way you could sleep, the addictive kisses you’d share when no one was watching.

Dazai and you were inseparable. Everyone in the port mafia knew you two were basically connected at the hip. They would talk about the way you two would sneak off and do god knows what when you were supposed to be working. But that was a long time ago. When he disappeared leaving only a note on what had happened and why he needed to leave, it felt as if your whole heart had been torn up to pieces and set on fire.

You were mad. Upset. Confused. Why didn’t he take you with him? Had everything you’d done together and the time spent with each other meant nothing?

You knew odasaku was his best friend but weren’t you also? It may have been selfish of you to think that way but After Dazai’s disappearance you fell into a deep state of depression. You became a completely different person from the way you carried yourself to the lack of sympathy for others. Everyone in the mafia stood clear of you even on assignments and in the halls of the mafias headquarters.

You killed without a second thought unlike before and It didn’t matter who it was you were interrogating, if they didn’t speak up the first time you tortured them until they spilt the info you were looking for only for you to kill them off brutally.

You had become one of the most dangerous and ruthless executives the mafia had, even chuuya wouldn’t try and mess with you.

“Cry on his shoulder 'cause life is hard”

“The waves came in over my head”

“What you been up to, my baby?”

“I haven't seen you 'round here lately “

Fast forward those painful years and here you were now, On your way to inspect a wear house down at the port that supposedly had some suspicious looking figures lurking around it.

Mori had assigned you to just take a look at take out anyone who didn’t look like his men. But

halfway there, as you were driving in one of the cars belonging to the mafia, you had gotten a call from chuuya.

You picked up your phone and answered it hoping it was just another assignment so you could go home and sleep. You were awfully exhausted.

“What’s up” you stated blankly as you turned a corner. “You might wanna come back. Mori specifically asked for you..” chuuya sounded like he was nervous to talk to you. More than normal. “I’m already half way there can’t he wait-“ you were cut off as chuuya called your name sternly.

“ we have a prisoner that needs to be interrogated, a former mafia member..” there was a pause on your end that racked his nerves to the core, yet he continued on.

“... you can probably take a guess who it is...” the car had stopped before he could even finish that sentence. Your grip on the steering wheel was insanely tight, you were surprised you hadn’t broke it already. Blank clouded eyes stared on into the empty road in front of you and as a few minutes past, you could hear chuuya clear his throat which prompted to snap you out of your daze.

“I’ll be right there.” Was all you said as you hung up and turned your car around. Something inside you said you knew exactly who it was

“All of the guys tell me lies, but you don't”

“You just crack another beer”

“And pretend that you're still here”

“This is how to disappear”

Your footsteps echoed through the hall with every slow step you took. You were full of every kind of emotion you could possibly feel. Your ability felt like it was going to erupt like a bird set free from its cage. With every new step you took, your body was telling you to go back. You wouldn’t be able to handle it. But this was the job you’ve devoted yourself to, and you weren’t going to back out now. Chuuya had warned everyone in the building before you got there so the halls were practically empty.

They’d heard the rumors about you and they didn’t dare cross your path in a situation like this. Before you knew it you were in front of the door to the dark, empty brick room used to interrogate.

You took a deep breath a few times in an attempt to calm the beast inside you. You counted to three before slowly opening the door to the room..Dazai stood there chained to the wall by his wrists, waiting for someone to walk in. Of course being dazai, he was singing some song about a double suicide. It had been a while since anyone had come down here. Worst case scenario, that short asshole Chuuya would come down and maybe give him a punch or two (or more likely try and kill him).

What he didn’t expect however, was to see your silhouette standing at the top of the stairs. The second he saw you standing there, in your black, ankle long skirt and grey ruffled blouse that slid off your shoulders exposing the skin of your collar bones and neck which was covered in black cloth like a choker, dazai felt his whole body freeze.

“This is how to disappear”

His eyes were wide with shock as you stepped foot by foot down the stairs. The black heels you were wearing clicked and echoed through the musty room. Before he knew it you were only about 3 feet in front of him.

You never lost eye contact with dazai even as you stopped directly in front of him. Nothing was said. The silence was deafening. It wasn’t until he let out a shaky breath and looked to the floor, that his smile from before returned. When he looked back up to you he could see the pain and mixed emotions behind those empty eyes.

The same eyes that would look at him lovingly the nights the both of them spent in his bed together. The same eyes that told him countless times that they’d loved him more than words could describe. The same eyes that had touched his heart like no other person could. It hurt him to see that they were so empty and clouded now. A distant gaze that would have him dead if looks could kill.

“Its been a while hasn’t it? You’ve gotten taller..” but before he could continue on about the things that had changed about you, His cheek felt like it was on fire. You were standing directly in front of him in a split second, hand colliding with his face as dark purple serpent created of smoke and poison manifested behind you standing almost 12 feet tall.

but it only stood there unmoving no matter how many times you commanded it to attack. Your hand colliding with his cheek again in a fit of rage.

Before he could even react, your knee reached his abdomen in a striking kick to the gut. Hit after hit, you kept going until you could no longer hold onto the pure raw emotion that was going through your head. And for the first time in years, Your grunting turned into sobs, and sobs into screams.

You hit him until your last punch was nothing more that a slight push. You felt weak. Tears had been streaming down onto your shirt and they wouldn’t stop. Dazai spit some blood on the floor before turning his gaze to you again. You were facing the floor as your body shook and trembled with every sob that wracked through you.

“‘it’s been a while’? ‘ITS BEEN A WHILE’??! Really dazai?! That’s ALL you have to say? After what you put me through after you left!? After everything we did?? That’s all you have to say..?!?”.

Dazais heart felt like it was shattering. When you looked back up to him he saw your puffy red eyes and face. The pain from your assaults were nothing compared to the look you were giving him as salty tears rolled down your cheeks. He said nothing.

Even as the blood from his head dripped onto the floor between you both. In almost a second, the chains and cuffed that kept him against the wall were broken and before you knew what had happened he enveloped you in what was literally was a bone crushing embrace.

You screamed and hit at him in an attempt to push him off you which only made him hold onto you tighter. The serpent faded away with his touch and disappeared into the air. You eventually stopped hitting him as your knees felt too weak to hold your body up.

You both dropped to the floor. Dazai did not once letting his grip slack, even as he carried all your weight. He buried his face into your hair as he rocked you back and forth with each cry you let out.

It wasn’t until you slowly put your hands on his back did you feel his own tears fall onto your shoulder. “I’m so sorry... I’m so so sorry...” dazais voice was barely a whisper in your ear. “I loved you so much dazai... I loved you more than anything... why didn’t you take me with you...?” you gripped his coat as you continued to cry in his arms.

“I’m sorry...”

“The California sun and the movie stars”

“I watched the skies getting light as I write As I think about those years”

“As I whisper in your ear”

“I'm always going to be right here”

“No one's going anywhere..”

#bsd dazai #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #angst #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #BSD #bungou stray dogs #im retarded okay #idek how i deleted it #Spotify #it was one of my first works on here ik its bad

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juminly · 4 years ago

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Love Written in The Stars

Summary: When Leonardo only thought that he would look after you as a guardian, as a friend. He never expected to fall so deeply in love with you. Matchup story written for @meverilan.

Note from Leonardo: “I dedicate this song to you, mi amore. It made me think of you and I hope you enjoy it and always know, you are more than enough to me.” - You are Enough by Sleeping at Last.

You were very lucky to find yourself in the mansion at a time where most of the residents were out and about except for a few. Arthur was in the city, playing detective; Vincent was in the gardens, painting away; Theo was doing some gallery scouting; Napoleon had managed to forcefully convince Jean to join him in teaching the orphans in the city some self-defense.

Comte always takes it upon himself to take good care of his guests and he always ensures to do so. Thoroughly. There’s also the fact that Sebastian also acts as his sharp eyes and ears so you had two guardian angels watching over you from the moment you arrived, without you even knowing it. While Comte showed you around, you discovered all the historical figures that were living in the mansion. It was all too surreal and daunting but obviously, you still managed to plaster a smile on your face.

While walking through the hallways with Comte, you heard a low husky voice calling out to him. “Didn’t you have something important to attend to, Mr. Le Comte?”

What was this tall man (quite respectfully flirtatious man, if I may add) talking about? Comte actually had something to attend to and he put it on hold and disregarded it because he wanted to be there for you. (Isn’t he just the perfect gentleman? Come on…)

The vampire had called you “a refreshing beauty”[in Italian] the moment he saw and the blush on your face didn’t go unnoticed. That was enough for him to register the fact that you were quite a shy one, in his mind.

Leo is quite the observant type and empathetic, so just a few glances at you, he was able to take a few mental notes on you [and they were 99.9% accurate, most of the time, if not, all the time]. He also noticed the slight wavering in your eyes that indicated that you didn’t truly believe what he said.

[Men had a way of whispering sweet nothings into people’s ears, only to use them as a means to an end. Was he that type? You didn’t really know him so you couldn’t tell, but it didn’t mean that these thoughts didn’t/wouldn’t cross your mind.]

Leonardo came to the rescue, sweeping in and picking up where he basically persuaded Comte to leave because whatever business he had was important and his best friend knew. After introducing himself to you, the Italian polymath took over and that’s where your story began.

At first, the smell of his cigarillo was quite strong but it had an inconspicuous sweetness to it that was quite delightful. He asked you if you were bothered by it, not knowing if you would be or not, since he found your eyes focused on the smoke he puffed from his lips. The scent was oddly comforting and added some sort of mysterious and alluring coat to his aura.

As you wandered the mansion with him, Leonardo took it upon himself to give you a thorough briefing about the residents, not that you didn’t know of them, but interacting with historical figures was a completely different story and he knew that (especially when they were all vampires).

He was able to get your attention by promising to let you in on the biggest secret of the entire mansion (after your tour ended). Even Sebastian didn’t know this secret.

The location of Theo’s stash of sweets was the biggest mystery in the mansion and Leo was the only person, aside from Theo, who knew where it was (and the younger Van Gogh was unaware of this fact). [Best ice-breaker ever!]

That man was probably the biggest sweet-tooth beast of Paris. Leonardo probably said something along those lines and it kinda reminded you of the cookie monster, which made you giggle when you met Theodorus for the first time, a day later (and the man was awfully confused and did not understand why you reacted the way you did).

Being part of the rowdy breakfast with the other residents was sometimes a little bit too much to take and draining as well, since a lot would be happening at the same time but it was a great opportunity for you to observe and understand more about the residents, piecing together the information that Leo had given you with your surroundings.

Arthur was his usual flirtatious self and getting on his bestie’s (Theo, obviously) nerves. Their banter was joined by the commentary of Dazai, the annoyance of Mozart and Isaac and Vincent, the angelic presence whose smile managed to brighten up your day almost instantly. Since you were the new person around, they couldn’t really hold back on all their questions to you, which was actually pretty overwhelming for you.

Leonardo was always there for you though, stopping them in their tracks whenever things became a little too much for you. [and this did not escape Arthur’s attention. He has a keen eye for human behaviour, being a former physician and he had vast knowledge about how the human body worked and coupled with his analytical side that came with being a writer].

You hadn’t given Leonardo any indication about how you felt or how you were but he didn’t have to. From the first few days, Leonardo became the closest person to you and you assumed that it was because he looked after you, the way he would with a little sister. He could only imagine how hard it was to be thrown in the past, into the unknown.

So when you confided in him and told him about having ADD, he simply nodded while you talked, giving you the space and time to explain whatever you were comfortable in telling him. He respects your boundaries and was fine with whatever you were able to tell you. He didn’t push for more. When you were done talking, he smiled and told you how he was curious to know about you and he wanted to make your time in the past, as pleasant as possible [until you had to go back to the present].

It was a vow that he declared to you, with the purest intentions. He was a pureblood after all, each and every human he came across was worth admiring and you were definitely one of them. Why did he think that way? He knew that you were shying away in an invisible cocoon and he was standing right outside of it, his hand outstretched, just for you to take it. Every second, every minute, every hour of a human’s life counted and he wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t regret not having done anything whatsoever during the time you had in Paris.

The more time you spent in the mansion though, you became a little more acquainted with the residents and felt a bit more comfortable around them, as they became a part of your daily life. Living in the same mansion made you all like roommates and somehow, they all looked out for you like you were family.

Being a jack of all trades, most of the residents looked up to Leonardo as someone they could rely on, to go to when in need. He had such a carefree and laid back attitude, which made him approachable by all and many. You noticed that, not only with the residents, but also the townspeople.

Leonardo had told Vincent about a beautiful land he had discovered while wandering the outskirts of Paris one day and decided to organize a trip to spark the painter’s muse. Leo obviously invited you to come along and it was definitely a relaxing and insightful outing. You had the chance to watch, none other than THE Vincent Van Gogh, paint so masterfully, while being surrounded by the most beautiful of views in all of France: a large field of greenery, with tulips and daffodils.

It was like staring into a canvas, created by nature and Vincent wasn’t the only one that felt inspired. Leonardo brought along a drawing notebook just for you, where he gave you tips and instructions on how to go about sketching and analyzing the overall form of your sketch subjects before looking into the more intricate details.

He was an amazing teacher, his instructions were simple yet very clear and concise. He also gave you constructive feedback, even leaning in to adjust parts of your sketches while holding your hand, the sweet scent of his cigarillo would fill your nostrils, almost distracting you completely from your task. And even if it did, Leonardo would chuckle and tease you, bringing your attention back to the task at hand with a kiss on your hand.

The first time he did that, you couldn’t help but be completely surprised and taken aback. But you knew that he wasn’t the type to try to take advantage of you or anything, so you would laugh it out and throw in a sarcastic remark, which only made the vampire boom with laughter [which, if I may be frank, is such a wonderful sound, you wouldn’t be able to resist not laughing along with him].

That outing was more lengthy than you thought it would be and you ended up staying out until late at night, when Vincent was inspired by the night view of another area which you happened to cross while heading back to the mansion.

You were immediately captivated by the clear night sky, the stars twinkling and inviting you to simply marvel at them. And that only prolonged your time together even more. And right then and there, a new ritual was created.

For 12 consecutive nights, Leonardo recounted to you the story behind each horoscope and where their stars were located, telling you about the tales from Roman and Greek myths and started with the story of Scorpio and the Greek myth of Orion, the son of Posiedon and Euriale.

He didn’t mind repeating himself as many times as he had to and was not bothered by it, one tiny bit. If you flooded him with questions, he would answer each and every single one of them. Leo was not the type to get annoyed at all so you were always relaxed and comfortable around him.

He loved seeing the expression on your face as it lit up as the information and inspiration would sink in. Knowledge was a beautiful thing in itself, but it was even more beautiful when shared with others. With Leo, it was oddly intimate, especially with the mix of emotions that came with interacting with him.

Your night escapades of tales of myth and astrology (and art, because Vincent would sometimes join to do some painting) became even more interesting when Isaac began to join you as well. He looked up to Leonardo as a mentor and often wanted to dig and dive into the man’s brain. He was a genius of his time yet so humble about it.

Isaac would bring his telescope with him and give you an even better view of the stars blinking at you from the wide dark skies. Astrology was also one of his interests and despite being known for always wanting to be alone, the man secretly liked sharing his interests with those who were genuinely fascinated by it.

Soon after, Isaac also became close to you. He felt comfortable around you and just like Leonardo, didn’t mind it when you asked him questions or when he had to explain things to you that could be a little bit difficult to understand. [Leo was also there to translate since he would sometimes use overcomplicated terms]

Isaac was quite fond of you, especially when you would ask Arthur and Dazai to stop teasing him about apples. The physicist obviously told you that he didn’t really need you to stick up for him but he was definitely pleased about it, the hint of a smile touching his thin lips.

If you ever got a panic attack with Leonardo around, he would wrap his arms around you from behind, lacing his fingers with yours and placing your hands over your heart. Whenever you cried, he would be there with you until you cried it all out. Whenever you shook, he would be there to hold you together and find your center of gravity.

He never made you feel restricted, his hold was always loose so you didn’t feel suffocated. He offered you the comfort and the solace you needed without you having to ask him for it and would speak to you so softly, almost crooning, telling you all the words, all the things that you needed to hear, as if he could read your mind. He could tell that you were often very hard on yourself and he was prepared to remind you, time and time again, as many times as needed that… you are and will always be enough, just the way you are.

Towards the end of the month, everyone was suddenly counting down the days until you would leave. Nobody mentioned it but you could definitely feel it in the air, sense it in their gaze. Some of them actually asked you to stay but in the end, it was all up to you. You had already made up your mind but something deep down made you hesitate. Lots of emotions were building up inside of you and yet, you still managed to draw a smile on your face. However, you weren’t really fooling anyone.

The residents had planned a farewell party in your honour, a few days before the door would open again. Comte had arranged for you something to wear on that evening and you were more than flattered at the gesture. The man never missed a single detail and made sure that you always felt welcomed, even when you were leaving. As did Leonardo.

Leonardo came to find you, to escort you to the party only to open the door to your bedroom, his heart clenching hard in his chest at the sight of your tears.

You were crying your eyes out and he couldn’t think of any reason why you would cry. Maybe you were afraid of going back to your time? Going through the door?

He asked you whether there was something that bothered you in the design of the clothes that you were wearing. He noticed you were looking down at yourself, fisting the fabric hard in your hands. That was when you discovered that he designed the apparel just for you, to your exact liking, which made you cry harder.

When you told him that there was no issue with the clothes, they were perfect and beautiful, tailored, stitched and created just for you.

Leo: Cara mia, if it upsets you, you do not have to wear it. I promise, you would look beautiful in anything you wear. You: No, that’s not true. Look at me! How could you even say that? Leo: Lan… I am looking at you, cara mia. I have been looking at you ever since you arrived and you are absolutely and utterly divine.

You: Don’t say that just to flatter me. Please. I don’t need lies.

Leo: If I could give you my eyes so you could see through them, then, I definitely would. Unfortunately, I am not physically capable of doing that but I have something else in mind. You’re coming with me, Lan.

Before you even had the chance to say anything, he took your hand and whisked you away, finding yourself in his room. Letting you sit on his bed, he handed you a notebook and asked you to open it. They were all sketches of you and you couldn’t believe your eyes. You went through them one by one and realized that Leonardo was no liar and he proved it to you. As you looked up at him, he cradled your face in his hands and laid the lightest of kisses on your lips. He didn’t have to say anything. The notebook and that kiss were more than enough to show how much he loved you.

He would also come up with new nicknames for you just because he loved to see you blushy and get flustered (don’t forget all the Italian romance with “mi amore” and “cuore mio” that would literally make you melt with that voice of his). He adored seeing the flush on your cheeks and teased you about wanting to paint them red always, in every single way he can (wink wink).

This man had absolutely no qualms in whispering suggestive notions in your ear whenever you were in public, challenging you and giving you a greater reason to get over with whatever you were doing, so you could relish in the love this man had to offer you.

He is fine with small displays of affection in public, however, not too much of it though. He always holds your hand or had an arm around your shoulders or your waist, keeping you close to him whenever you were out in town. He wouldn’t hesitate to tease you or just simply kiss you whenever he felt like it. However, the different expressions you would make when he would passionately kiss you, the small sighs and whimpers, those were all for him and he didn’t want anyone to hear them or see them.

Whenever he got jealous, you would immediately know it from his eyes and the tone of his voice. He was definitely not the type to let his emotions take over but whenever any other person was being a little too friendly with you, he did not appreciate it. And if you were the one to encourage such behaviour from another, he would have a “discussion” with you about it in the bedroom.

Kisses of affection: he loves to smell your hair and kiss your temple.

NSFW Ahead ~

Your first time, Leonardo would do everything possible to make you as comfortable as possible. How it started? You were cuddling in his room with Lumière and just having a calm night together, just chilling with the candlelight surrounding you as he held you in his arms while you sketched.

He absolutely loves having his hands on you, like almost all the time. He kinda gets clingy like that. You had been at it for a while and the man wanted some attention from his lover so he tickled you, making you laugh your heart and giving him your full attention. He was kinda like a cat, which was actually adorable.

Finding yourself on your back, you were met with his smoldering gaze and he locked your lips in a breathtaking kiss, his hands gliding over your form, making you melt under him. He could feel and see the hesitation in you but he didn’t let it stop him. Why? He knew exactly how to make your worries wither away.

Leo was a vocal lover, not in terms of moaning/groaning (and FYI: he is usually all rough grunts and groans), but in terms of communicating with you when he was intimate with you. He told you every single thing he loved about you, praised you and repeated it, over and over again, etching it into your mind that he saw only you, loved only and wanted/desired nobody but you.

He wanted to know, see and feel all of you so he could show you the depth of his love for you. As he undressed you, he kissed every bit of skin that he would expose, leaving you completely breathless, with unshed tears of happiness burning in your eyes by the time he had you completely naked under him.

He actually had no intentions of taking you that night. He went down on you, making you come multiple times, using those skilled hands of his and that silver tongue (literally and figuratively). It was only when you pleaded to him and told him that you were ready that he gave in, his vampire instincts completely overpowering him, his need to feast on your blood and claim you were the only things he knew, in that moment. He took you slowly and as gently as he could. He could never bear the thought of hurting you.

In the beginning of your intimate relationship, Leonardo was very gentle with you but after a while, he became a little bit more rough with you, but not in a way that was uncomfortable for you. He was experienced enough to know when you were reaching your limit and assessing what you were able to take and what you couldn’t. He is a very attentive lover and is all about making sure you are satisfied before he is. To your dismay, as much as you tried to put him first, he valued your pleasure more than his.

He always made sure that you were thoroughly made loved to/fucked, a physical and emotional reminder that you were his and he wouldn’t think of any other.

What he absolutely loves doing to you: Light bondage. Just tying you up and maybe blindfolding you (only if you were comfortable), heightening your senses. He likes to make you a complete and utter mess, making you unable to talk and after a while, unable to even walk. He’ll have you forget everything in the world and remember only his name.

He talks dirty and it is completely filthy, it has you whimpered and flustered and he just lives to see you like that. He doesn’t play fair and he doesn’t play on doing it anytime soon. Your pleasure is his reward and he’ll tease you by saying that he’s a masochist, and he likes to draw out his own pleasure, and your pleasure is his. (believe me, it’s all worth it in the end)

Places he loved drinking blood from: your neck (especially when he’s making love to you).

Favourite positions: any position that you are most comfortable in. However, he loves seeing you a complete whimpering mess under him. That’s the most beautiful sight to him.

#ikemen vampire #ikevam #ikevamp #matchup #ikemen vampire leo #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikevamp leo #ikevamp leonardo #ikemen series #ikevamp smut #ikevamp fluff #ikevamp matchup #ikemen matchup

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naberiuz · 4 years ago

Text

Did you know male cats have spines on their dicks?

Read on: AO3

"Do you have spines on your dick?"

He tries very hard to maintain a straight face as the jinko lifts his head slowly, revealing a very confused expression.

“What?” Atsushi blurts out, eyebrows pulling downward in bewilderment. “Why would you even—where did you even get that idea?”

Or: Akutagawa just really, really wants them to move to third base. He resorts to using a weird biological fact against Atsushi.

Starting note:

Hey guys. Biology student here. 100% not inventing this shit up. Male felines have dick spines because for some reason the females don't ovulate without getting their VJs shredded, which is why they're so fucking loud when having sex. That's a dramatized answer, but you get the point.

Akutagawa will be calling Atsushi "jinko" a lot in this fic, because imo I don't think Akutagawa refers to him using his real name even when it's just on his mind. They would have to be on Level 20 of romantic relationship before Akutagawa finally calls him by name. Not that you don't guys probably already know, but jinko = weretiger.

---

Fun fact: Did you know male cats have spines on their penises?

Akutagawa’s thumb freezes on his phone screen. He very nearly barks out a laugh which he hastily covers up by clearing his throat. Higuchi looks at him in question, looking ready to ask him the reason but Akutagawa just gives her a shake of his head.

Barbed penises? That’s interesting. He thinks to himself as he scrolls down, amused by the new discovery. There’s really only one person in mind who counts somewhat as a feline, and it’s none other than the jinko.

The jinko, whom he has been having an interesting relationship lately.

The arrangement Dazai set for them had been highly appalling at first, but no one can deny that they were indeed more powerful together. Which somehow led to the Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency's cooperative relationship, for the first time ever. And by "cooperative" it means that he and the jinko don’t attempt to kill each other every meeting and are willing enough to work together (reluctantly) on joint missions.

Which then further led to this and that. Heated arguments turned to annoyed banters, which turned to almost comfortable silences.

Which then turned to fierce make-out sessions, apparently. Post mission make-out sessions and grinding against each other in back alleys, specifically.

It is incredibly absurd, he admits readily to himself. Absurd in the way that of all the people he’d be doing such things, it had to be jinko, the supposed object of his hatred. But also, it was absurd in that it had been so easy. It’s almost as a natural part of their relationship now, ending missions with the jinko stalking over to him and slotting their mouths together, shredded clothes and bloody overcoats be damned.

And well speaking of dick spines, he doubts that the jinko has them at all given their past excursions. But it would be a real problem if he actually did, though highly unlikely, because well…

It’s been 3 months and they still haven’t done anything on the down low. And Akutagawa is quickly becoming…impatient.

The scenery outside the car windows freezes in place, signalling their destination. Higuchi immediately fumbles to open the door to her side and rounds the car in record time to open Akutagawa’s.

“Senpai! We’re here!”

Akutagawa steps out of the black vehicle, trying very hard not to give Higuchi a full-on irritated face. He's always been annoyed Higuchi for her unnecessary actions, but he’s learned a long time ago that nothing he would say would ever faze her.

He gives their destination a cursory glance; a shipping dock near Osanbashi. Large enough to house multiple freights but small enough not to be considered as major, thereby making it perfect for contraband trade. One of these freight containers is not like the others.

“Senpai, Chuuya-san’s instructions were to either eliminate or capture the foreign syndicate’s ability users. We do not need to track down their upper brass as he thinks the Boss might make arrangements with their leader to be absorbed into the Port Mafia—”

“I know, Higuchi.” Akutagawa cuts her off firmly, trying to let her know that she does not need to reiterate everything to him every single damn time, he’s her superior for god’s sake. But all he gets is an enthusiastic “Yes! As expected from senpai!”.

He almost rolls his eyes, if not for the sudden cough that comes up from his chest. The sounds of his coughing were drowned out by the sound of another vehicle arriving on the scene. The car doors open, and out comes a bespectacled blond man sporting a ponytail, notebook in hand, and from the other side comes out…jinko.

Higuchi is immediately on guard beside him, but Akutagawa cracks up a smirk from behind the hand covering his mouth, gaze locked in with intense violet-yellow eyes.

---

“The Armed Detective Agency isn’t here to share your goal of eliminating the syndicate’s ability users. We are only here to gather intel about the syndicate’s top brass. We believe one of their leaders is connected to one of our ongoing cases.” Kunikida Doppo recites without looking up from his notebook, scribbling furiously with veins popping out on his forehead. “That damn Dazai messing up my schedule! The stupid bandage wasting machine was supposed to accompany Atsushi here but the idiot really chose this time to escape to god knows where…”

Akutagawa perks up at the mention of his former mentor’s name, surprised and crushed at the same time to know that he could have been here. If Dazai-san were here, I would have used this chance to finally prove myself worthy… Across him, Atsushi raises an eyebrow at his reaction to which Akutagawa pointedly ignores. Behind them, Higuchi is scanning the shipping dock with her binoculars.

“….anyway we don’t need your armed grunts to come rushing in.” Kunikida continues after his mini rant, gesturing to the multiple black cars parked around the vicinity. “I’d rather keep the element of surprise. And we do not have the slightest clue about the abilities of our opponents, which is worrying considering that the agency and the abilities division has nothing on record.”

“Hm. Pathetic.” Akutagawa grunts out. Kunikida’s eyebrow twitches, but he presses on.

“It is unfortunate. What we do know is that while the ability users are here guarding their cargo, their top brass is probably somewhere else. We will need to extricate information from one of their ability users regarding their leaders’ details. Will you be able to cooperate with us on that?”

“Do what you want. Just don’t get in my way.” Akutagawa replies, but he’s not looking at the blond man. Atsushi glares back, looking as if he wanted to say the same thing to him.

“Good. Okay, now here’s the plan…”

---

Suffice to say, the fight was greatly disappointing. The ability users turned out to be just two scared brothers, probably younger than 12. They were kidnapped by the syndicate from their family in Germany, and were given instructions to deter anyone who takes an interest on the cargo. The only action they got were the couple dozen of foreign armed goons who flanked the cargo ship, which was obviously a piece of cake for the combined prowess of Rashoumon and Beast Beneath the Moonlight.

The ability users weren’t even particularly troublesome; their ability, Grimm Fairytale could create grotesque versions of a person’s fantasies but only if both brothers were holding each of a target’s hands. Kunikida handled them well by addressing them gently, accompanied by some coaxing from Higuchi (a sight that was a bit disconcerting), and the brothers easily squealed their leaders’ details. Well as much as two scared children could possibly know, which was still apparently more than enough for one of the detectives in the agency to pinpoint the identities and locations of the syndicate's leaders.

“Okay. Alright. I’ll see you again at the office tomorrow. Yes. Take care, Kunikida-san!” Behind him, Atsushi ends his call. Higuchi had been forced to accompany the Grimm brothers, mostly because they wouldn’t let go of her pant legs. Akutagawa had waved her off, saying something about ordering her to accompany Kunikida to bring the children to a safehouse. He figures the mission counts as a success on Port Mafia’s end.

He feels an arm curl around his waist from behind, startling him mid-cough. He stiffens reflexively and he’s quick to clutch on the jinko’s forearm with both hands, nails digging into pale skin.

“You do that one more time and I will seriously kill you, jinko.”

Atsushi sighs, turning him around so they were face to face. “As if you haven't been doing that all this time." Atsushi mumbles, eyes not meeting Akutagawa's but rather at his lips. He leans in, and Akutagawa's eyes flutter closed.

They kiss languidly, arms around each other's waists, their similar heights providing them ease. Their tongues dance with no real rush, feeling completely relaxed in each other's embrace. Akutagawa notes something new every time they do this. How the jinko likes to pinch his hands on Akutagawa's waist, or how he likes it when he pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth. Atsushi pulls him flush to his chest, deepening their kiss and Akutagawa lets him, placing both hands on the jinko's shoulders-

Somewhere behind them, one of the goons groans in pain. They pull apart reluctantly, sharing one look before peeking behind to check for the source of the noise. Akutagawa briefly considers stabbing the goon with Rashoumon, if not for the hand that pushes at his shoulder.

"Let's just get out of here."

---

They're walking along a desolate street, which was unsurprising at this time of the night. Beside him, Atsushi is wearing his spare shoes, but his shirt was tattered on the sleeves, a consequence of his man-tiger form. What a highly incovenient ability, and yet Dazai-san thinks you are better...

He knows an alley is coming up ahead, having memorized all of Yokohama's ins and outs. He wastes no time to grab at the jinko's arm and pulls him there. Atsushi tries to close in on him, going for another kiss when Akutagawa beats him to it, pushing him against the wall.

They're rougher with each other this time, more biting and angry moans spilling from their mouths as they push and pull against each other. He pulls at the hair on the base of Atsushi's neck and pulls their faces away, teeth latching his mouth on the side of the jinko's neck.

"You know..." Atsushi starts to say in between shaky breaths. "I'm starting to think making out in dirty alleys is a kink of yours."

Akutagawa huffs at that and pulls away to glare at Atsushi, not liking the comment. "Why, jinko? You think you can bring me somewhere fancy?" Atsushi smiles, dumbfounding Akutagawa for a moment. His stomach definitely did not do a flip after seeing that expression targeted at him.

"Only if you're paying." Atsushi replies as he promptly wrapping his arms around Akutagawa's waist to change their position. He lets himself be maneuvered, the back of his head hitting the wall behind him gently. Atsushi nips at his ear before leaving feather-light kisses down his neck, which Akutagawa obligingly cranes to the side, a satisfied sigh coming out from his nose. Atsushi’s arms presses them closer, chest-to-chest, Akutagawa’s torso bending back slightly.

Their crotches rub at each other at the action, hard-ons rubbing ever so slightly and—

Speaking of hard-ons…

He's not sure what comes over to him, but he pushes slightly at Atsushi's shoulders.

“Jinko.” Akutagawa breathes out. Atsushi lets out a vaguely annoyed hum, lips still continuing their ministrations at his throat. Akutagawa blurts out the question anyway.

“Do you have spines on your dick?”

...

A few moments of silence pass by, Atsushi suddenly freezing from the open mouthed kiss he was leaving on Akutagawa’s neck.

He tries very hard to maintain a straight face as the jinko lifts his head slowly, revealing a very confused expression.

“What?” Atsushi blurts out, eyebrows pulling downward in bewilderment. “Why would you even—where did you even get that idea?” He says quickly, taking a small step backwards and giving his own crotch a glance before snapping up to meet Akutagawa’s deadpan expression.

“I read earlier that male cats have spines on their penises. Is that true for you?” Akutagawa replies easily, one corner of his mouth twitching up. Atsushi’s face instantly flushes a shade of pink in front of him, mouth falling open in shock.

“I am not a cat!” Atsushi splutters, to which Akutagawa just raises an (invisible) eyebrow at.

“Well I am…s-sort of, but no, I mean!” Atsushi’s hands flail around for a bit before continuing. “No, I don’t have them! Why would you think that?” He finishes off lamely, crossing his arms while glaring at the dark-haired man.

Akutagawa lets out a hmph, though he sounds more amused that annoyed. He gives the other an unconvinced expression to rile him up further. “How unfortunate. To think you’ve been living like this all this time. Pitiful and pathetic.”

“I really don’t! Seriously!" Atsushi replies heatedly, taking the bait. "I don’t understand why you’d think that when we’ve been doing…” Atsushi trails off, glancing away. The redness from his cheek has spread all the way to his ears, making him look equal parts ashamed and angry.

“Oh really, jinko?” Akutagawa replies challengingly, a new glint in his eyes. He’s met with a violet-yellow glare.

“Prove it then.”

Akutagawa watches his reaction, a self-satisfied smirk on his own face, knowing his words will do something to the jinko.

The effect was almost immediate. Atsushi grits his teeth in annoyance before closing in on Akutagawa’s space in a fit of embarrassed rage. The sudden movement forces Akutagawa to step back and crash into the wall behind him, bracing for an impromptu fight-

But then Atsushi grabs at his wrist and places his hand firmly on his crotch.

"S-so? why don’t you see for yourself?" Atsushi says, face a mere centimeters away from his own. The effect of his glare ruined by the blush on his cheeks. Akutagawa's mouth hangs open in surprise, eyes wide, trying to think of a reply to the jinko’s sudden boldness.

Nothing comes out. Slowly he absorbs the intent behind the jinko's move, moving his gaze downwards. He can’t see much other than the dark fabric of the jinko’s pants and his own pale hand.

He presses harder and rubs tentatively on the sizeable tent underneath his palm. Atsushi swallows audibly, eyes closing and mouth falling open in relief. His still hasn’t let up on his hold on Akutagawa’s wrist, hand curling a little tighter as he grinds back slightly.

Inwardly, Akutagawa could not believe his luck, biting his lower lip as he watches Atsushi use his wrist as leverage. To think that jinko finally pushed things forward between them… He leans forward to press a kiss on Atsushi’s jaw, letting the jinko grind himself on his palm.

“I don’t know about seeing, jinko…” He breathes out, the air from his mouth fanning Atsushi’s pale hair. “Since I’m only feeling you.” He says to the other's ear, giving him a particularly hard rub to make his point clear, making Atushi's breath hitch.

His other hand reaches up to rest on the jinko's belt buckle, trying to give him a hint. Atsushi gets it immediately, pulling away from his shoulder. His hands shake a bit as he fumbles at the metal, pulling off the leather and hastily popping the button on his trousers. Akutagawa watches him work, mouth getting dryer in anticipation. He pushes a hand up at Atsushi's shirt to see him more clearly, resting his hands on his navel and feeling the lean muscles underneath. Atsushi's hands come up to rest on Akutagawa's waist the moment he pops the button open.

As they stand there, underneath the pale half-moon, Atsushi's trousers gaping wide at the front, the very obvious tent on his boxers out in the open for Akutagawa to see, he can't help but think to himself: Fucking finally.

One of his hand plays at the hem of the jinko's boxers while the other cups his hard-on appreciatively. Atsushi lets out a shaky moan, hands moving to nudge Akutagawa's coat open to rest on Akutagawa's hips. He thumbs at the hem of the other's slacks, trying to tell him the same thing.

Akutagawa ignores the action for the time-being, his bony fingers hooking on the hem of the jinko's boxers and dragging it down slowly. Atsushi lets out a hiss as his dick pops out from his boxers, the chill night air hitting his sensitive skin. He hides his face on Akutagawa's shoulder to stifle his obvious embarrassment.

Akutagawa huffs amusedly. The jinko has nothing to be embarrassed about, he thinks as he wraps a hand around the shaft and presses his thumb on the slit, spreading the precum around the head. He notes the differences between them, how the jinko feels thicker than his own, although they are similar in length. The thought annoys him just a tiny bit, feeling more pleased and excited at the fact that they have finally reached this far. He digs his thumb harder on the slit, prompting a high-pitched keen from Atsushi.

"Jinko. Look at me." He says softly. Atsushi's head rises, shy violet-yellow eyes meeting Akutagawa's grey ones. He feels himself get lost in the jinko's gaze as he gives him slow strokes, watching in appreciation as Atsushi moans, back bowing slightly in pleasure.

Atsushi lets him stroke a couple times, his cock coating the other's hand with more precum. His eyes slide back to Akutagawa's still clothed erection, and he feels a small ruge of irritation. Gritting his teeth, he straightens up, fully intent on bringing the other man on the same level. He grasps on the other's hand to halt his movements. The other man complies, but the grip never leaves his cock.

"I want to see you too." Atsushi breathes out, tugging insistently on the other man's trousers. Akutagawa lets out a soft hmph, his other hand coming between them to pop his own button open one-handedly. He pulls the zipper down and moves to reach the hem of his briefs, but the jinko beats him to it. Atsushi eagerly yanks his underwear down and wastes no time to envelope Akutagawa's cock in his fist, prompting a grunt from the dark-haired man.

Atsushi stares, wide-eyed and pleased, giving the other a few experimental strokes. Akutagawa flushes despite himself, exhaling with relief and feeling delighted that the jinko likes what he sees. Don't stare like it's your first time to see one... He strokes Atushi again, this time with more speed, before the jinko could say something about their dicks.

"Ah! Damn it, Akutagawa..." Atsushi groans but mirrors the action, matching Akutagawa's pace. He leans in to suck at the area under Akutagawa's jaw and leaves a small mark, listening closely to the other man's soft mewls and gasps.

A hand comes up behind his head to pull at his hair, but not enough force to pull him away from leaving kisses on the other man's neck. He snakes a hand up underneath Akutagawa's shirt in response, thumb grazing over the indents of his ribs before finding a pert nub. He toys with it using his thumb, Akutagawa letting out a surprised moan at the action.

"You-ah...what do you think you're doing-ngh" Akutagawa sighs out in between moans, and Atsushi quickly becomes attached to the sound of the other man losing his composure. He toys harder on the nipple, liking the way Akutagawa bit his lip in pleasure. Akutagawa picks up the pace on Atsushi's cock in retaliation, determined to make the jinko unravel first. Atsushi groans, long and low by his ear, making him shiver from the back of his eyes and all the way down his back. Atsushi picks his pace up as well, at the same time he drives his tongue inside Akutagawa's open mouth.

The sound of slick sliding between their hands resounds through the alley, making Akutagawa feel both self-conscious and hot at the same time. He responds eagerly to the kiss, tongues moving together in a heated dance before pulling back to gasp for air. The sounds of his moans become louder, but he's too far gone in his pleasure to remember to keep his voice down.

"Akutagawa..ah..." Atsushi gasps his name in between breathy moans, his other arm reaching around Akutagawa to pull them closer. He wraps his hand tighter on the other man's cock and gives firmer strokes, his pace never letting up. Akutagawa's eyes pinch closed at the action and lets out a long keen from gritted teeth, and Atsushi very nearly comes from the sight. He holds himself back, determined to make the experience last a little longer. He leaves more kisses on Akutagawa's jaw, his neck, his collarbone, thoroughly enjoying the sounds coming out from their mouths and from the hands between them.

"I'm close...ah...are you too?" He says breathlessly, whispering directly to the other's ear. Akutagawa shivers and nods shakily, not trusting his own voice. Atsushi almost feels disappointed from the other's refusal to open his mouth, but he's distracted by Akutagawa covering his hand with his own, blunt fingernails digging on Atsushi's knuckles.

A few more hard strokes from the jinko's hand and the pleasure spikes all the way up for Akutagawa who throws his head back in bliss, a dull pain spreading from his head as he hits the wall behind him. He's moaning, long and drawn out, voice breaking with trembling lips. The sight triggers something in Atsushi, quickly forcing him to follow with his own orgasm mere seconds later. His groan is muffled as he bites particularly hard on Akutagawa's neck, eyes closed and his torso bowing so far forward into Akutagawa's chest that he bends him at an uncomfortable angle.

They catch their breath, hands coated by the other's cum. Atsushi adjusts so he's resting his head on Akutagawa's shoulder instead, aware of the strain he put on Akutagawa's back. The other man lays flat on the wall, eyes still closed with gasping breaths falling out of his mouth.

After a few minutes of coming down from their high, Atsushi pulls back and steps away shakingly. Atsushi watches as Akutagawa tucks himself in and fishes for something in his coat pocket, pulling out a handkerchief which he wordlessly uses to wipe his hands clean of cum. Atsushi blushes at the sight and hastily tucks himself back in his boxers, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Akutagawa reaches for his hand the moment he pulls the button closed, using the same handkerchief to wipe off the mess. Atsushi mumbles out a small 'thanks' before moving to insert his belt back in the buckle, genuinely appreciative for the other man's initiative.

A small awkward silence fills the air as they both finish fixing themselves up. Atsushi fidgets on his feet, unsure of what to say after their tryst. Across him, Akutagawa feels pleased and relieved that they have finally done it.

"Well..." Akutagawa is the first to break the silence, letting out a small cough before continuing. "I guess I'm relieved to find out you don't have them."

Atsushi rolls his eyes, but there's a small smile on his face. He turns around to leave.

So the jinko doesn't have spines on his dick after all.

But that wasn't the point, really. Akutagawa thinks to himself, satisfied, before stepping out of the alley with the jinko.

---

Ending note:

Handjobs only lol. Mostly because I don’t think Akutagawa can give a blowjob without coughing every 10 seconds, which would have been a real mood killer.

Re:handkerchief. I just think Akutagawa is a neat guy, you know? And neat guys normally have hankies on them. Idk, it's probably the frilly blouse which made me think this way.

Grimm Brothers as in Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, who collected and wrote German fairytales including Sleeping Beauty, Rapunzel, Snow White, and Cinderella. Plot twist? They’re actually VERY FAR from Disney’s versions, with many of their stories containing disturbing content. For some weird reason Disney decided to turn them into rainbows and sparkles.

This is the first fic for a trilogy I'm writing. Hehe. Oh and this is the first time I have written smut. *finger guns* That's right, this is what 21 year old nerds do. I am proud of myself.

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd fic #fic #shin soukoku #akutagawa ryuunosuke #atsushi nakajima #shin soukoku fic #no beta we die like odasaku

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