#Chuuya deserves the best of the best and everything he could ever want. unfortunately what he wants is a bandaged lunatic

[snakes-of-the-undercity]

Soukoku is, like, the peak of

‘I’m so happy for you and your ugly ass boyfriend, I’m serious.’

imo

[akutasoda]

hiii!! Have you heard of the song ‘Dial Drunk’? It’s becoming my comfort song so-

reader who uses alcohol to cope and will just randomly call them crying asking to be taken back? Even if they’re still in a relationship? I’d say it’s because reader might see them as someone from a past relationship cause reader can’t get over them yet?

(with Dazai, chuuya, atsushi, Fyodor, and kunikida? + anyone you want!)

-🌀Anon!

blank memories

synopsis - feelings are strange and often become more prominent in certain circumstances

includes - atsushi, dazai, kunikida, chuuya, fyodor

warnings - gn!reader, angst, slight comfort, quite heavy, alcohol, mention of underage drinking, fyodor being horrible with emotions, wc - 720

atsushi nakajima ★↷

as someone who only wants the best for his partner, would be absolutely so sad to see you in such a state. but seeing the fact that you're with him would probably mean your close to his age - so that would be even worse for him to see.

and getting any kind of phone call from you and seeing you so upset would mean he's dropping everything he was doing and going straight to you to comfort you.

would want nothing more than to help you and maybe get you out of using alcohol to cope, telling you that he would always be there to help and support you in whatever way you wanted

no matter the reason he would try his absolute hardest to help you. afterall he believes you deserve everything and seeing you like that breaks his heart.

osamu dazai ★↷

a man who personally and very id very much ashamed of it, but had turned to the bottle a couple of times when feeling particularly low. but that all changed when he had met you, you finally gave him a reason to attempt to crawl out of his bad habits.

but throughout the relationship he could tell something was slightly off but respected your privacy and wouldn't pry.

but when he found out about your habit it pained him deeply as he knew all to painfully what you were feeling. to receive a phone call from the one of the only people who bring him happiness sounding so distraught made his heart ache.

he would want nothing to comfort you in times of need but unfortunately he was never all too good eith his own feelings, let alone another persons. but he'd be damned if he didn't try and help you in the ways you've helped him. whatever the reason for you to turn to the bottle he would try his best to help you.

doppo kunikida ★↷

would only ever touch a bottle of alcohol in celebration or, very rarely, in times of desperation. although he heavily strays from the second as he knows how bad it is and wants to avoid it at all costs.

receiving that drunken call from you did nothing but break his heart even if you two were still together. would try and comfort you in whatever way possible and whatever the reason that you told him he would still offer nothing but support.

wouldn't openly tell you how much he hated your way of coping but would try and slowly gett you to stop and find another way around, with your consent of course.

chuuya nakahara ★↷

yet another who is no stranger to turning to the bottle in his darkest times. sure he does openly drink but it is never in serious amounts unless its really rough. and he knows, and he's not proud of it.

so receiving that phone call from you in the middle if the night, he couldn't help but feel himself be nearly brought to tears at your drunken, distraught cry to be taken back despite nothing between you two being off. what made it even more painful for him was knowing exactly how you felt.

now he knew he wasn't one to criticise your habits but maybe you two could figure it out, get both if you off the habit and do nothing but be there for each other. whatever the reason for your habit he would listen and offer his most heartfelt advice.

fyodor dostoevsky ★↷

someone who would rarely even think about touching a bottle of alcohol. not only does he just hate the idea but he hasn't really got a healthy body. so alcohol normally is out of the question for him.

but that's mainly because he isn't a fan of it, so seeing you resort to something like that msde him feel something he didn't want to feel. and receiving that phone call definitely didn't help. wouldn't immediately comfort you because he's kind of hopeless in that area.

but would talk about it with you later, once you sobered up and agreed to talk about it. would try to support you, again he's not that good with emotions but tries his hardest for you and hates to see you resort to alcohol and really wants to get you to find a new way if coping. a better one.

[weepingpalaceathletelight-blog]

There's a difference between shipping two characters and acknowledging the intense (usually gay) bond between characters. You guys get what I mean, right? Like I'm not just going insane?

Like a BSD example:

-I casually ship Louisa X Lucy because I feel like their dynamic could work in a romantic context and because I love it when girls are in love and they both deserve to be happy 🩷

-HOWEVER Chuuya and Dazai have an intense bond, they are one soul in two bodies, written and designed to compliment the other, Chuuya trusts Dazai with his life and vice versa, Dazai believed in Chuuya's humanity from the very beginning, their old and sorted dynamic, Chuuya being like the only one who understands Dazai's motives, and so, knowing all of this, I simply have no choice but to acknowledge their homosexuality because if I don't then I'm just being willfully ignorant

Or a MHA example:

-I somewhat ship Dabi x Hawks because it's hilarious whilst also having beautiful potential for angst

-BUT Bakugou and Midoriya quite simply just are gay as shit for each other and I have no choice but to accept it. Rivals constantly pushing the other, their complicated history and how they've both grown because of it, their understanding of the other, Bakugou basically trusting Midoriya with his fears and insecurities, Bakugou being the first to know about One for All, Kaachan Bakugou.

Or a MTP example:

-I guess you could say I ship Microsoft X Albert because I think it's sorta very funny and extremely plausible.

-MEANWHILE William and Sherlock are like the only person who understands each other and can keep up with them and Sherlock is diving off of buildings and cradling William's head as they fall (in love).

Or a JJK example:

-I kinda ship Maki X Nobara because I can and I want to and they could work

-ALTERNATIVELY Gojo and Geto where each others one and only best friend, best friend they ever had, knows his smell, his heart and soul know otherwise. They're just disgustingly in love and I hate it but there's nothing I can do about it except cry

Or a Haikyuu example:

-I do ship Hanamaki X Matsukawa because lord is it hilarious and the fanon presentation of a romantic relationship between them is always the funniest thing ever and the fics are so good

-YET Hinata and Kageyama are exactly what the other needed, Kageyama found his better half, their constant pushing of the other to do better, promises fulfilled and matches won, casual moments and casual touch. I did not choose to see them in a romantic light, they forced me to. I am a victim

Or a Merlin example:

-I dabble in shipping Percival X Gwaine purely because I can and no one is gonna stop me

-ALTHOUGH Merlin and Arthur are so gross and icky and care about each other so much and repeatedly risk their lives for the other and Arthur asked Merlin to hold him whilst he dies and Merlin spends forever waiting for Arthur's return. I just can't view them platonically or something after everything I've seen them do and I don't believe anyone who says that they truly don't seem them as romantic or at least something other than platonic or brotherly because how could you not??

Or a Doctor Who example:

-I could ship the Doctor X Jack because that's actually class

-UNFORTUNATELY that would be asking me to ignore the Doctor and Rose. He burned up a sun to say goodbye. He loved her. She loved him, was willing to never see her mother again if it meant she stayed with him. I'm sorry but cmonnnn

Nah but you get what I mean, right? Like I don't 'ship' these people, they're just IN LOVE and I hate them for it.

[soukokuwu]

i live for aku angst. could you please write a scenario where he develops feelings for a fem reader during the dark era, but watches as her & dazai fall in love together? he wouldn’t be able to do anything since he’s dazai’s subordinate. but imagine them having a significant friend (ish) relationship, so when she disappears along with dazai he gets left utterly heartbroken and alone, wishing he would have said something to her when she was still with him. thank you! i love your writing

➥ genre: angst

➥ pairing: akutagawa x crush!reader, dazai x reader

➥ synopsis: akutagawa watches as you fall in love... but not with him.

➥ word count: 2k

➥ a/n: and i live for angst 😼 i really really loved this idea & i really hope you’re still here — tried a certain theme for this, hopefully you like it!! and tysm kind anony ^.^

Black and blue

You came out of the blue.

In the form of medicine for his wounds, and a cure for his aches. You were his superior, but you were unlike a certain other superior he knew. You radiated warmth and comfort — something Akutagawa didn’t know he craved. And yet you managed to instil that feeling in him within a matter of seconds.

“Dazai did this to you again?”

What was that he heard in your voice? Was it pain? Disapproval? Sadness, maybe? He was too detached from any emotion to be able to tell. Everything he knew, he learned from Dazai himself. All he wanted was the man’s approval. That was all he worked for. But you ignited a conflict in Akutagawa that he didn’t bargain for. One that he didn’t know would lead to fireworks instead of just a single spark.

“Yes,” was all he said. Was there any other way to respond? This was the first time you spoke to him, was he supposed to continue the conversation? A part of him wanted to. This was the only time a superior has shown any sort of care to him after all. So why couldn’t he get anything out?

You pressed your lips into a firm line, and he couldn’t help but notice how soft and pink they looked. You didn’t wear a lot of makeup, and his opinion was that you didn’t need it anyway. You already looked... pleasing enough to the eyes. Was that how people described someone they found... good-looking?

Endless questions darted across Akutagawa’s mind that day. But none were answered. Because how could they be, when the one questioning didn’t have the guts to say a thing in the first place?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Akutagawa knew.

He knew you didn’t mean to. But you did it anyway. He knew why, too. Because he let you. And just like that, his walls came down. No, they didn’t crumble — he wouldn’t let them fall that easily, but still you were the only one who could take the bricks out piece by piece until the barrier was almost nonexistent.

It was like demolishing a house and rebuilding it again — just better, stronger. You painted over his grey with your red. It was your favourite color, and fitting enough; it was the color of his feelings for you.

Since that day you were always there for him. You had your own tasks, sure, but you always looked out for him when you could. And he found that days when you were especially busy were the days he felt most blue. Akutagawa found it strange though — why did you care? What did you have to gain?

And he found the answer one night, a conversation with you by the bay. You had invited him to take a walk with you, to get some proper fresh air and let off steam. But Akutagawa had read way too much into it, that he knew. Why else would he feel disappointed that there wasn’t so much as any physical contact with you? He merely stayed at a distance as he always did, and you never tried.

One fruit bore out of that night though. He learned more about you than he thought he would. You were much like him; joining the mafia because you had nowhere else, you accepted an invitation from a senior in the mafia, wanting to prove that you weren’t worthless, that you could produce something of value to someone. No wonder you looked out for him. You saw a part of yourself in him, didn’t you? You knew how lonely it felt. That night, Akutagawa felt something he never thought he would — a sense of belonging.

The longer you spoke to him that night, the larger that feeling grew. And somehow he looked at you in a way he didn’t before. It confused him, disgusted him. No, correction — he disgusted himself. Not his affection for you. Why did he feel like pursuing this; you? That night, he denied himself the chance to let you in on his feelings.

A useless kid like him doesn’t deserve you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke was a black sheep. But you were the golden girl.

Should he be surprised then? As he watched the way his mentor interacted with you, should he be worried? No, did he even have the right to be? But then he saw him smile at you, a smile he’d only seen formed when he was around that other guy — Oda Sakunosuke. You were... another exception? Yet again, many questions raced through his head. But one thing he knew for sure — he was turning into the green-eyed monster.

He started to notice how you reacted to Dazai. He hated how you always seemed so mesmerised whenever he walked by. He hated how your eyes twinkled whenever you talked to him — where’s that sparkle in your eye when you talked to Akutagawa? He hated how one day you just showed up with Dazai’s coat wrapped around your shoulders. He hated how much he was affected by it. It really wasn’t unexpected — next to Dazai, who would take a second look at him anyway? He wished he could be him. Then maybe you’d... He shook his head. No, maybe not even then.

What he hated the most? He couldn’t even hate the guy. He yearned for Dazai’s respect; approval, and that never changed. But then the upset dissolved into an understanding. Something in his head clicked. You belonged with Dazai. He knew next to nothing about your relationship and how it worked. But what Akutagawa did know? Dazai was a revered member of the Port Mafia, one likely to take Mori’s place as the big boss in the future. He couldn’t even lay a hit on him with Rashomon. Dazai wasn’t a formidable fighter like Chuuya either, and still he managed to beat Akutagawa into the ground. That man... was exceptional. You deserved that. You deserved the best.

That’s what Dazai was. He was the black that would take no other hue, and fittingly so he was the Port Mafia’s great white hope.

“Devour space? That sounds cool,” you had commented one day while bandaging up the cut on his wrist, one inflicted on by Dazai himself. He noticed how you didn’t comment on his barbarism as you usually would, and the usual concern in your tone never appeared. As it never did ever since the first day he saw you talk to Dazai.

“I still can’t do it.”

“If you try to imagine you’re protecting me, could you?”

You see, Akutagawa knew it was just a joke to you. And yet? His heart started pounding so fast, so loud in his chest the moment he heard it. It was a tiring dance — feeling so happy about a tiny comment and then feeling a heartache after realising your smiles, even then, were never as sweet as the ones you flashed at Dazai.

Did Dazai even love you? Or was he playing some sort of game as he usually does with women? He hated how he was praying for the latter. Hated how he wished that things would crumble for the two of you so that he could be the one to help you pick up the pieces — to be the one. Akutagawa sighed, knowing he could never get inside his head. Anyone who tried would fall into a cognitive prison. But even these selfish thoughts couldn’t last long, because Akutagawa got his answer later that day when he overheard his mentor talking to his friend.

“Odasaku, how vulnerable can humans get?”

Akutagawa is shocked at the depth of the conversation. He didn’t know Dazai was capable of talking about... emotions. He didn’t think he had any. The other man mentioned something about it being to a big extent, Akutagawa let it slip past his ears. He was more interested in what Dazai had to say.

“It’s weird. It’s like finally being seen after having lived in perpetual darkness. The light she holds, it’s small... but is it wrong of me to hope that it will grow with time?”

Was that... hope he heard in his mentor’s voice? ‘With time’? That meant the future... for all his suicidal thoughts, because of you, was Dazai really considering living? Akutagawa sighed in exasperation as he quietly walked away from the spot he eavesdropped from. He would never understand Dazai.

He never did. Especially not when the same Dazai who spoke so fondly of you was the same Dazai who shot three bullets at Akutagawa for killing the enemy. You were a saviour in more than one way. Your words echoed in his mind, and his shield came out of his will to protect you, an imaginary you. That’s why Dazai didn’t manage to shoot him dead this time. Because of you.

“Oh? See? You can do it. How many times have I told you? Cutting open unfortunate hostages isn’t the only thing you’re good for. You should be able to use your powers for defense too.”

“I’ve never been able to successfully do that before this.”

“But you just did. Isn’t that great?”

Akutagawa wanted so badly to argue back in an act of rebellion, to yell out that it was only because of you that he was able to do it. But the words got stuck in his throat. And Dazai’s threat embedded themselves in his brain. He always wondered if Dazai knew his subordinate harboured feelings for his partner. But Akutagawa already knew the answer. Nothing escapes that man. But he’s sure that he doesn’t view him as a threat, not even as competition, no.

To Dazai, it was probably just another reason to hate him; another reason to justify why he was in Dazai’s black books.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was a complete bolt from the blue.

Akutagawa remembered the day he realised he had lost two important people in his life. He thought that watching as you fell in love with Dazai was the most horrible emotion he could feel. He was wrong. Losing the two of you, not even being able to see either of you, not knowing where either of you vanished to — nothing could top that agony.

The day Oda died, the two of you disappeared along with him.

You took down his walls, painted the insides red, furnished it and made it vibrant again and then suddenly you were gone. You left him in the dark. You invaded his solitary space — slowly, ironically without any violence, and yet the moment you left, it was anything but peaceful for Akutagawa. No, you and Dazai left him even lonelier than before. You graced him with your presence and healed him, only to break him down even more than he already was before he met you.

Everything he heard about love after you left just seemed like everyone viewed the world through rose-coloured glasses. Nothing he found could describe the anguish he felt over losing you; or the regret he held for not telling you how he felt — the remorse that he knew wouldn’t change a thing, and yet wished he did anyway.

Because who knew when he would ever see you again, if he would? What if he never did? Yet ironically, your memory is always there — you’re sitting at the edge of his periphery, taunting him with your smile, tempting him to go and find you. And Akutagawa thinks of it everyday; what it would be like to find you, to hold you, to tell you everything he should have when you were still there.

However, a part of him nags at him not to. After all, the grass is always greener on the other side — maybe because Akutagawa isn’t there. And as an image of you flashed in his mind yet again, he scoffed at himself.

Beautiful. That’s the word he was looking for that first day you touched his soul.

You’re beautiful.

tags: @yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes

[our-wargame]

miss the sun, and it starts to snow

Rating: M Pairing: Oda Sakunosuke / Dazai Osamu Tags: Implied Sexual ContentI...I...legitimately wrote this for fluff week...but it's not fluff. Mutual Pining. I can't even use the fluff and angst tag because it's literally not fluff. Chuuya's a Hoe and Also The Reason I Wrote This - Thank Him. Angst. angst with a ? ending. Ambiguous/Open Ending. Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence. One suicide mention. Hurt/Comfort. But Mostly Hurt Word Count: 2099 Status: Complete AO3 Link

Summary:

Sleeping with someone who cares about you too much despite the warning signs is the most selfish thing Dazai's done in the entirety of his lifetime, and he's slaughtered numbers and brought down entire nations to try and understand himself.

He knows this will not end well. They keep fucking like it might.

The first time Oda Sakunosuke fucks Dazai Osamu, it's a little more than a good decision made by two mature consenting parties. It starts with a slow night at Bar Lupin; low lights, lax words, long talks of nothing and everything. Tonight is not the first time Dazai looked at Odasaku and remembered the stars glittering for them, or the last time that he had thought, maybe the galaxy in its lonesome darkness could learn to live with some light. But it is the first time Dazai figures out the look in Odasaku's eyes, finally registers it for what it is. He breaks off from the middle of a bad joke. With an elbow on the counter propping him up and his chin in his hand, his bangs dance in and out of his eyes when he gives a little shake of his head, a little grin. "Odasaku."

"Mm?" Odasaku's gaze is too warm, too kind. All of his features are even softer under the mellow lighting. 

Dazai's grin gets a little meaner. "You should know better than to look at me like that!" Like you want me. "If you were anyone else, I'd have already taken your hand in mine and asked you to come home with me!" His drink tastes like layers and layers of lies. Don't.

The gate's been blown wide open; there are an infinite number of responses that could walk into his arms. But this is Odasaku, Odasaku who tils his head a degree, says, with meaning, "Do you want me to go home with you?"

Odasaku holds himself still, waits because he understands Dazai needs to search him. When Dazai can find nothing in his eyes that say anything else besides I'd choose you, if ever you'd let me, he's a fool for wanting to give in.

He tosses back the rest of the contents of his glass, a mess of melted ice and soft heat splashing down his throat, then rises to a stand. The bar stool shakes a little from his- enthusiasm? anxiousness? Odasaku waits. "I do." Dazai replies, and it is the most honest thing he has said so far, but that doesn't negate that it takes every bit of his willpower to keep holding Odasaku's gaze. They could stop here. They could turn back to talking about nothing at all.

The pressing need to flee battles against the way his chest hurts when he thinks about Odasaku and his willingness to offer a friend the universe.

Shut up. Just shut up. He should stop now. Shut. Up.

"Will you?" says Dazai.

So their first kiss is not preceded by the slide of a grin, the slip of a laugh. Dazai steps into Odasaku's space, a little concerned with how his approach feels like he's threatening Odasaku more than anything else, but Odasaku is already leaning in, slotting their mouths together. And that is that. That is that, because then Odasaku disengages, looks down to assess Dazai's reaction, absolutely overreacting in his care and attention. Dazai stares back at him, doing the same. And then they are leaving Lupin.

The first time Odasaku fucks Dazai, there is a little more to it than what's said. It may be a mistake, because this is not how things are supposed to go, is it? You can acknowledge your feelings, tuck them away, and never bring them up again. You can acknowledge your feelings and choose not to pursue them. But he wants to.

The beginnings of regret, the poison in his veins, is watered down, bearable. 

That night, Odasaku part his lips with his own, again and again and again. Dazai's had a couple of meaningless hookups with nameless mafia members before, but this is anything but that, so he fumbles in every instant that Odasaku is too close and yet not close enough. The lingering scent of smoke on Odasaku's coat lights the room. Dazai gets his hands in the thick of Odasaku's hair, presses teeth to the shell of an ear, slides his tongue over steady collarbone, trying to burn bruises there. Sometime later, he find himself burying his face into the warm crook between neck and shoulder, just breathing them in.

Lying in the same bed in the aftermath, Dazai knows he doesn't regret this but he may come to. The truth is, he's afraid of what comes next.

"Osamu," says Odasaku, rescuing Dazai, rather jarringly, out of his own head. "Stop thinking so loudly." It is a request- talk to me.

Dazai closes his eyes. He tugs the blankets over his head, curling his entire body inward, towards Odasaku, but keeping distance. Then he finds Odasaku's fingers, leaves the back of his hand against Odasaku's palm. Odasaku's thumb comes down to tap his palm once, then retreats, because you can't corner a stray dog and expect it not to get away in any way it knows how to. Dazai leaves between two and three in the morning anyways. Odasaku lets him, only telling him to grab an extra coat from the closet because of the cold. This is the little Dazai can comply with, so he complies, he does.

Sleeping with someone who cares about you too much despite the warning signs is the most selfish thing Dazai has done in the entirety of his lifetime, which is really something considering he's slaughtered numbers and brought down entire nations to try and understand himself. 

He knows this will not end well, so the only question is if the war he's fighting is between knowing and wanting to believe differently, or deciding who he can bring himself to trust more.

This does not end well. They keep fucking like it might.

****

The first time Dazai uses Odasaku's given name, Odasaku isn't even present. Using it is an accident, the unfortunate result of accumulating far more hours of stress than sleep, particularly the last four nights, which have requested the best of the Port Mafia to meet on each one. More importantly, The first time that Dazai says Sakunosuke, it is not so much an accident as it is a mistake. This means he can bite his tongue all he wants when he realizes what's left his lips, but the rest of the room falls silent with or without him. Chuuya's head snaps up, off of the meeting table from where it was resting in nap and the expression he turns on Dazai is both too incredulous and violent to be a grin.

"What a scandal- the executive sleeping with the errand boy!'" Chuuya gasps. "Does this mean Sakunosuke-"

Dazai plunges his hand into his pocket. Chuuya doesn't even bother with his ability- just tilts his head, lets the entire pistol fly by, clocking the wall and clattering to the ground.

Triumphant. "-is finally moving up the ladder?" Vicious. "The man deserves a different position! It's only right to return the favor...I assume he puts you in a different one every night-" 

Dazai contributes a solid effort towards putting a bullet through Chuuya's kneecap. It is a good place to go for, because even reconstruction surgery does not revive that which dies. In the end, their meeting table collects some new scars and the Golden Demon is summoned to hold him back. He cannot be objective about whether it is more for his own good or for Chuuya's, but his partner's sneer is telling, as is the gloat, the edge of his coat flaring out when he shows Dazai his back and skips off.

Dazai not hate Chuuya. There is nothing to be held against Chuuya, and he will acknowledge Chuuya's act of grace ungrudgingly. They're dogs after all. To savage without mercy when weakness is exposed is expected of them. Those who can not understand are driven from the pack and those who teach the law to others walk on. Dazai prefers the stray dogs.

He loathes himself a little more. 

 For Sakunosuke, today is a visit to the kids. He spends the usual number of hours of the afternoon with them, until his phone rings. The number of people who would call him are few, and the fraction of them who would call right now are even fewer. He knows it's Dazai. Even as he brings the phone to his ear, he knows there's something wrong.

"Odasaku-"

"Where are you," he interrupts, and his voice is rough from the worry so he swallows. Tries again. "Dazai, I'm coming. Where are you?"

"...your apartment. In 10?"

"Be there in 10." He promises. A moment is spent debating whether or not to hang up- would Dazai prefer to stay on call? But the line goes dead and he gets moving. Quick hugs for the kids, his thanks goes to the curry shop owner, and then he's gone.

There's very little that distresses Dazai. With his lips pressed in a tight line, Sakunosuke grips the steering wheel tighter and tries to keep within twice the speed limit. This is his fault.

Dazai's always known how Sakunosuke feels about him, just like he's known it's never not been mutual, even before Dazai said yes, before they'd walked away, hand in hand, that first night. But it's fault, because then he let Dazai drift, walk free. He thought it was time that would slowly pull Dazai into coming to terms with believing- they could make it work. But now he sees what he was extending, what he thought was kindness, for only its flaws. Right now, Dazai does not need Sakunosuke's patience.

What Dazai needs is a reminder. A reminder that he is only everything to Sakunosuke. Even if this does not end well...Sakunosuke is too selfish to want anything else for them. 

Racing through the city takes an eternity. He takes the stairs instead of the elevator to give himself something to do, with his heartbeat thundering in his head, but counts to ten, reigns himself in, when he works the doors instead of breaking them down.

Dazai lies in their bed, lies on his side, doesn't lift his head. "Odasaku..."

"I'm here." Sakunosuke murmurs. The mattress sinks a little when he sits on the edge of the bed, his back to Dazai. After a moment, he hears it creak again, Dazai shifting, moving close so he can reach and wrap an arm around Odasaku's waist, rest his hand on Odasaku's knee. Odasaku threads their fingers together. He doesn't know what it is that set Dazai off, because there are too many possibilities. Life. Death. Work.  Mafia. Osamu. Sakunosuke. Nothing. Everything. If he could take Dazai's misery and make it his own, he would.

Dazai squeezes his fingers. Sakunosuke makes himself breathe.

 An eon goes by. And then another. Humans live, humans die. Someone scrawls down history in letters and sends bottles out to sea. 

Dazai whispers, "How's Sakura?" 

"I love you."

Dazai flinches like he's been burned. This is the first time Odsaku has said it out loud, but is only cruel for him to give the words to Dazai right now. Sakunosuke relaxes his grip so that Dazai can disengage if he wants to, but this time, if Dazai runs, Odasaku will chase him. This doesn't mean he isn't tensed from head to toe, doesn't have the rest of his muscles locked. 

"I love you too."

Odasaku's inhale is sharp. He wants, so badly wants to believe that this isn't a goodbye.

 They could run away. Ango would help them hide the kids, the curry shop owner....and then what? Move, pack up every time, word of men in black are spotted some dozen miles away? Port Mafia is ruthless, Mori relentless.

They could part ways. It is- possible- that Odasaku will be allowed to leave the organization and yet, unlikely. Mori is a man of logic. He will find a way to use Sakunosuke up entirely beforehand, or if he is let go, somehow, Dazai will be used to call him back. Neither of them are okay with either of these.

They could die. It has been some time since he's asked, because he's stayed willing to learn himself, and because Sakunosuke still wants to write some day. This must be where Dazai's thoughts go now, and Sakunosuke trips over the same rabbithole. But they deserve better than that. If Sakunosuke is to die, it will be dying fighting.

They could stay. They could live and hurt and die a little and stay.

 His ability only sees six seconds into the future. He does not know how this ends. Dazai's fingers are warm against his.

---

Notes:

I'm dying to debrief the story owo.... As an additional disclaimer, I wrote the beginning and middle and end bit in entirely different moods but humor me and pretend it came out okay. [Legitimately Chuuya’s part is what convinced me to develop the rest of it mwahhaa]

*claps my hands* Though it's technically an open ending, I prefer Dazai still holding Odasaku's hand. :) He stays.

Let me know what you thought (tumblr replies yo); as always, reblogs appreciated + hmu on tumblr to talk odazai

[mpregwrites]

Pop That Lock

rated: g/soft t for swearing words: 2302

@soukokuweek​ day one: “trial and error”

--

***

The only thing that kept Chuuya from launching his phone full-force against the nearest wall was the fact that he was a reasonable person who could control his temper when dealing with shithead Dazai and all of his stupid ass shit. Definitely not because he did that exact thing last week and had to make a very embarrassing trip to the service provider with the barely-recognizable smashed remains of an iPhone X that probably deserved better. He refused to go back for at least the next month or they were going to start worrying about him and his tendency to go through thousand dollar phones every couple of months at best.

There was still a pressing matter at hand: Kouyou’s birthday party. He had already requested leave for the rest of the day starting at noon but that didn’t do anything to mitigate the issue of Dazai most definitely showing up just to ruin it, and Kouyou deserved better. In the past year or so he had installed seven more deadbolts on his apartment door and started locking them at random in the vain hopes that it might deter Dazai from just breaking in whenever the hell he felt like it, but Dazai’s lockpicking abilities were second to none in the worst way. He could put up with having his furniture moved two inches to the left but he drew the line at crashing Kouyou’s birthday party.

He tapped his foot quickly on the ground, arms crossed over his chest. There had to be some way to keep Dazai from showing up uninvited and eating all the crab. It was rude to keep excusing himself from the festivities to re-lock the door every couple of minutes, not to mention how fucking annoying that would be. Sometimes it felt like Dazai hadn’t really outgrown all of his 16-year-old mischief.

Regrettably, though, Chuuya was far too mature these days to match all of Dazai’s nonsense blow-for-blow, and he was fresh out of teenagers to ask for tips and tricks. Maybe he could hire one for the night—

He smacked himself in the forehead. The answer was staring him in the face the whole time.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he opened his contact list and pressed ‘call’ on Mori’s contact info, not even bothering to hide the mania of the grin cracking across his face as it rang. Gin only raised an eyebrow at him before going back to sharpening her knife with extreme prejudice, because Gin only knew how to do things with extreme prejudice and Chuuya appreciated such an honest and straightforward approach to life.

Finally, Mori answered the phone. “Hello, Chuuya-kun. Did you need something?”

“Apologies for bothering you, Boss,” he replied, bowing slightly even though Mori couldn’t see it. “I have a, uh… peculiar request to make of you pertaining to the festivities tonight.”

“Oh? I’m intrigued.”

Chuuya shifted the phone from one ear to the other so he could grab his wallet out of his pocket and rifle through the bills in the fold. “In the interests of keeping unscrupulous characters from disturbing said festivities, I was wondering if it would be okay for me to borrow a certain asset for the night.”

Mori chuckled, amused. “They’ve been in a bit of a mood lately, you know. Are you sure you can handle that?”

“I’m sure.”

“Alright, then. I leave them in your capable hands.” And with that, Mori hung up, leaving Chuuya with a rising giddiness under his skin that thrummed warmly. Kouyou was going to have a fantastic birthday party because he was finally, finally going to be able to outsmart Dazai after ten years of knowing each other and a lot of mortifying losses taken.

Everything was going perfectly.

***

Q removed one earbud from their ear and looked Chuuya up and down from where they were perched on their bed. “I don’t want to, though.”

So things maybe weren’t going perfectly, but Chuuya wasn’t going to admit defeat to a fucking teenager. He ground his teeth together tightly and counted backwards from ten in Japanese, then French, then Russian, Italian, Spanish, and eventually English before he felt like he could open his mouth without screaming obscenities. “You will notice that it wasn’t a request and I specifically phrased it as such to avoid confusion, Kyuusaku.”

They rolled their eyes and a vein started throbbing in Chuuya’s forehead. After the heavy traumatization they received during the entire Guild bullshit three years prior it had been decided that maybe locking them up like an animal wasn’t exactly welcoming to the development of a healthy mental state, so Chuuya and Kouyou both lobbied for at least humane treatment. They were given their own room and the periodic ability to head out into the dregs of normal society, provided they behaved and were accompanied by several mafiosi.

Unfortunately, this also meant that they had the chance to develop a personality, and mixed in with the dangerous cocktail of hormones running through their pubescent veins, it meant they were kind of a snarky shithead. God, he hated dealing with teenagers.

“What do I even get out of this?” Q asked, reclining back onto their elbows and crossing their legs at their ankles. “It sounds boring with no payoff. No thanks! I’ll just read manga here instead.”

More than he hated dealing with teenagers, he hated dealing with mouthy teenagers with zero work ethic, and—holy fuck, 16-year-old Q was just a repackaged version of Dazai at 15. Chuuya wanted to scream.

“Look,” Chuuya said, trying to level with Q as best as he knew how. “I’ll give you $500 and a PS Vita with three games of your choice if you just sit by the front door and flip locks all night. A monkey could do this.”

“Then hire a monkey to do it.”

“I’m trying.”

Q frowned. “I said it sounds boring and I don’t want to do it. It’s not worth the effort.”

“I’ll give you an extra $100 for every time Dazai gets frustrated and swears.”

They sat up straight, pulling their legs in to sit cross-legged on the bed. “I guess… it doesn’t sound that bad when you put it like that.” Q tapped a finger on their chin thoughtfully, humming a long tone that only got longer the more Chuuya’s foot started involuntarily tapping out of irritation. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it. But I want one of the new Vita models. None of the crappy older ones. And let me use your Amazon Prime account to order figures.”

Chuuya sighed. “Deal.”

***

Dazai whistled a happy little tune to himself as he walked by the doorman and the person manning the front desk of Chuuya’s apartment building, waving at them. They waved back. All was right in the world.

The elevator ride was the longest part of the job every single time he came here, and he was running fashionably late to his already fashionably late lockpicking session. His lockpick set bounced against his leg in his jacket pocket as he shifted from side to side to stretch out his back for the crouching hell he was about to endure. Soon enough, the elevator slowed to a stop, dinged, and the doors opened.

Chuuya’s apartment was more than one apartment. The hat rack decided years ago that one apartment wasn’t enough for him, so he bought half a floor’s worth of apartments and had it remodeled into one massive living space, complete with multiple bedrooms for guests, an entertainment center, a full library, two different kitchens, more bathrooms than any person with one ass could ever need, and several other luxuries he definitely didn’t need. He liked to throw his fancy executive paycheck around as much as he could, and it was kind of cute.

He also refused to give Dazai a spare key to it, not that it ever stopped him. Eating all of his crackers and leaving crumbs on the couch was part of the experience of their relationship, after all.

The party was clearly a rager from what he could hear from behind the closed door. Surveying the eight deadbolts between him and Chuuya’s home cooking and absurdly expensive alcohol collection, he whipped out his lockpicking set and got to work.

The first bolt gave easily, and the next two weren’t locked. The third was, as was the fourth, but the fifth wasn’t set. The sixth and eighth were, the seventh not. It was easy enough to fiddle with the picks to get them open, and all in all it took less than ten minutes to get through all eight. He stood up, brushed himself off, and then grabbed the handle and turned it.

Or, well, he tried turning it. It didn’t budge.

He stared at his hand, still around the doorknob, and said, “What the fuck.”

***

Senbonzakura faded out and Fukagyaku Replace started up, but Q had their other ear trained on the door. Every time they heard a lock click out of place, they would either lock it back up or lock one of the ones that hadn’t been locked. It was mindless work, but at least they were going to get free food out of it once the party was over on top of the other agreed-upon spoils.

They heard Dazai swear again outside the door and added another tally to their list.

***

Three hours of hosting later, Kouyou was pleasantly tipsy and ready to go home. The consensus among the rest of the guests was much the same, and they all thanked Chuuya in turn as he escorted them to the door, undoing all the locks in one swift motion and letting them out. When the last of them had left, he stood in the threshold and looked down.

On the floor outside the apartment, Dazai sat with his knees to his chest and a pout on his face. It was equal parts hilarious and adorable. Chuuya kicked him with the toe of his house slipper. “Get up, asshole. There’s leftovers.”

“I think I’ll just sit out here until I die of starvation instead,” Dazai replied, the pout infecting even his voice. “Since you clearly don’t want me around. This is a pretty cruel method of torture, even for you.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, you were the torture specialist, Demon Prodigy,” Chuuya said back flatly, kicking Dazai again. “Stop pouting and get in here already and fucking eat something. I’ve gotta get Cinderella back before midnight.”

“I don’t want to now. McDonald’s wouldn’t treat me like this.”

Chuuya snorted, leaning back into the apartment to address Q from where they were still sitting on the stool they had been provided at the start of the party, one earbud in as they played Snake on the shitty Nokia flip phone Mori allowed them to have. “Honor system, but how much do I owe you for this one?”

Q pursed their lips and did some quick mental math. “Well, you said $100 every time he swore, so with the $500 you started with… $2000?”

“I’ll make it $3000 because he’s pouting like a goddamn child.” He pulled out his wallet and selected the appropriate amount of cash before handing it to Q. “Go ahead and grab some food before I take you back to headquarters. You’ve earned it.”

Almost immediately after the words came out of Chuuya’s mouth, Q vacated their seat with enviable speed and scurried over to the spread of leftovers on the dining room table, loading a plate up with everything they could see. With that problem out of the way, it was time to get his stupid manchild of an ex-partner to stop throwing a silent fit on the floor outside his apartment.

He put his hand on the top of Dazai’s hair and gave it an affectionate ruffle he would deny until his last breath. “I made crab. Just the way you like it.”

Dazai looked up at Chuuya, the angle accentuating the way his bottom lip was dramatically sticking out. He sniffed. “I guess if you make it up to me with a romantic dinner I can get over the pain you’ve caused my poor heart.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get in here, stupid.”

***

Q stuffed another bread roll into their mouth, glancing back and forth between Chuuya—his mouth so impressively turned down into a frown it was a wonder his lips hadn’t fallen off yet—and Dazai—currently holding his fork so tight it was threatening to bend in his hand—while chewing. They swallowed. “Are you guys gonna eat?”

“You know, Chuuya,” Dazai said, icicles forming on the words, “when I say ‘romantic dinner,’ it usually means just the two of us.”

“I don’t think they could pick up a hint if you dropped it right at their feet and literally fucking pointed at it, Dazai.”

They took another bite of the roll and chewed slower this time, more deliberately. They were pretty sure there was some kind of tension in the room over something, but knowing Dazai and Chuuya it could easily have been over just about anything under the sun. It wasn’t worth worrying about it, not when there was so much food ready to be eaten. And why would they eat in the living room when there was a perfectly good table begging to be dined on?

Chuuya put his face in his hands and sighed deeply. Dazai’s top lip twitched violently.

After about five minutes of that, Q swallowed, drank half a glass of water, and pointed at Dazai’s plate before saying, “Do you want that or not?”

The fork finally gave out.