#and Dazai gave him a ���reason to live’ so he passed on this ‘purpose’ to her as well

[doctorweebmd]

the ‘why would anyone entrust Akutagawa with Aya remember what happened the last time he took care of a young girl 🤔’ is such a dogshit take. like bro are we gonna just forget his whole-ass younger sister who he dotes on or, idk, perhaps literally the fact that his villain origin story is that he COULDNT PROTECT HIS FRIENDS IN THE SLUMS i am killing all of you with hammers

[darling--angst]

i’d like to request space song with dazai (specifically pm!dazai) hurt/comfort scenario,, reader comforting dazai during a breakdown or smth :(

Space Song

Pairing: Pm! Dazai x Fem! Reader(platonic)/Mori x 27! Reader

Type: Oneshot

Genre: Comfort/Fluff

Warnings: Long winded commas, Stormbringer spoilers/mentions, Dark Era mentions, Oda's death, mentions of war, mentions of Yosano's backstory, Mori being a bitch, slight yandere Mori mentions, kinda went off topic..

Synopsis: Dazai finally found someone who saw him for who he was and when his dearest friend died, he finds himself finding comfort in her embrace like a child being comforted by his mother.

A/n: Hey.. Please state if you want it to be romantic/platonic.. since you didn't say which one you want, I'll do the latter. Reader is implied to be 27 while Mori is 33. Reader is like a mother to Dazai. I kinda wrote this without thinking so I am so sorry.

Event // Pm. Masterlist // M.Masterlist

Dazai Osamu is the feared Demon Prodigy, the youngest underboss in the history of Port Mafia, the boss' right hand man, a genius; but deep down he was a child. A child misguided to do the wrong deeds, a lonely child used as a tool by others, a child who got affiliated with a mafioso at the age of fourteen, after an attempt in suicide. He was suicidal, a child at his age should be thinking of academics instead of how to end a war with another organization with the least casualties for his own gain. He could not see the purpose in living. Nobody saw him for who he was, it was never Osamu Dazai. Everything changed when he was fifteen, he met someone who gave him a reason to live for, someone who didn't judge him.

"sir, the boss has called you to his office" A black car stopped just beside of where he stood in the street.

"A mailman huh. I guess it really is important for Mori-san" he sighed, entering the back door of the car. It has almost been a year after Mori made him his 'witness' and succeeded as the Port Mafia boss.

The drive was silent, nobody said a word. The mailman was focused on driving and Dazai was looking out the window, observing people and their daily activities.

"We're here" The mailman said before the car stopped.

"mhm" He muttered opening and closing the door shut, and he drove away.

He was very familiar with the building. The five building-like-towers in the heart of Yokohama, the middle one being the tallest of all; where the Port Mafia boss, Mori Ogai lies. He reaches the highest floor and was eventually greeted by the guards, as he arrived he saw the boss and an unfamiliar woman sitting on the boss' desk, reading a document.

"Boss" He cleared his voice making his presence clear as the both of them talked.

"ah.. Dazai-kun" Mori shifted his attention from the woman to him.

"Sit down please" He offered while Dazai walked over to the small chair in the middle of the room. Mori made his his way towards another chair and sat down across him. She took documents on top of the desk after grabbing a brown, vintage briefcase. Making her way towards the door, Mori began explaining to Dazai. The only sound that feel the room was her heels clacking to the tiled floor until Mori finally spoke up.

"As you know Dazai-kun, the previous boss has returned.. based on the information you acquired from investigating Subarachi(?) city, it may have a lead on this 'Arahibaki' and by coincidence it seems that the Sheep King is looking for the so called God of Destruction" He explained.

"and?" He replied, clearly uninterested.

"He's suggesting that you work with Nakahara Chūya, if possible make him join the Mafia" She walked passed them, handing Dazai the documents she read earlier.

"Mhm, and you are?" Dazai asked before reading the documents. She continued to walk towards the door before Mori stopped her by ordering the guards from behind the door.

"Stay. (name)-sama" He smiled while she stopped in her tracks after hearing a pair of guards ruffle through the door.

"Haii.. what do you want now?" She let out a long, exasperated sigh. Ignoring her question, he explained to Dazai who she was.

"Dazai-kun, this is (name)-sama. She was strategist from the Great War" Sighing, she flopped down on a spare chair after he continued to explain about her to the young boy.

"So she knows about you killing the previous boss then?" He asked before glancing at her then to him.

"Yes. Now let's discuss this whole thing and why am I part of this?" She sat up, sending a glare at Mori.

"It was just as I explained earlier. The previous boss returned, Dazai-kun saw him personally so now that we have the Sheep King in our capture, we'll use that to our advantage by making him join the mafia." He gave both of them a closed-eye smile, Dazai put down the document and she gave him an annoyed look.

"That won't work" Both of them sighed in unison.

"Hm?"

"Chūya is too loyal to the Sheep. It's already given after all if he didn't, he would've left them to die long ago. After realizing his own potential, he would join an organization with a high pay; if he didn't have deep ties with them..—" She explained, sitting back down while Dazai listened to her.

"The only reason for him to join us for the Sheep's safety" He followed after hearing her explain.

"—It's not guaranteed he'll be loyal. If he joins the organization for their safety alone, there's a high chance he will destroy the mafia from the inside and save his little herd"

"Wait are you suggesting-?" Dazai's eyes widened realizing what she means.

"Yes.. We have to make them suspicious of him. If they notice they have been too dependent on him, they'll do any means to overthrow him and that's where we go in." She moved the white bishop on the chess board creating an opening for the rook, and continuing the abandoned game.

"After their betrayal, the Mafia comes in and will pretend to wipe out the Sheep. Chūya, after being betrayed will stay to protect them; so he will do a bargain to save them" Dazai moved the black knight, eating the bishop and now he was in advantage in terms of pieces.

"He'll then join the mafia in terms of the bargain" She then proceeded to move her rook from across the board, blocking the king's only path to escape, almost delivering a checkmate until Dazai's queen ate it to make the game a bit longer, but not to escape the inevitable fate.

"however-" Mori sighed but was cut off by her.

"since the main priority is to make sure the previous boss doesn't return so his supporters won't start a revolution.. you have to fix that first or else you'll get tortured, then executed" She glances at Mori before moving her rook to eat Dazai's queen, delivering a back-rank checkmate. Mori was in awe after watching his protegee and ex-lover play chess in sync, as if they were reading each other's minds.

"But won't you get executed too, (name)-san? I mean you knew of how the boss'really died, yet you didn't say anything.. making you, another accomplice" Dazai leaned into his chair, analyzing how he lost.

"I'm not part of the Mafia—" She nonchalantly responded.

"Yet." Mori's voice was full of demands.

"..tch. As I said, no." She stood up from her chair, giving Dazai a small smile before turning back to the door.

"Why?" This time he was more pushy for some reason.

"It's none of your business" She hissed before opening the door and leaving.

"Well isn't she beautiful.." He muttered under his breath while Dazai sat there with a fed up look on his face.

That was their first encounter. The second one was after both of them planned a strategy to defeat Verlaine. Even if Dazai didn't have any encounters with her that didn't involve work, he grew close to her. During their plannings, he was childish but she didn't mind. He felt comfortable with her, as if he could actually show his true self. She didn't try to exploit his intelligence, as she has one of her own, she tried to understand his view of the world, she sees through his emotions but she never used it to take advantage of him.

When she joined the mafia, her position was a strategist, even if she didn't engage in missions, she was valued by the Mafia because she was the one to pull the strings and by she was liked Mori personally. He had an interest in her that Dazai seemed to distinguish as love, one that he thought Mori was not capable off. All those who tried to assassinate her failed, because of Mori's interference and his predictions. Dazai didn't want her to die, not because of how important she was in the organization but because of his own personal reasons. He then became an executive at eighteen and met quite a few people, Sakunosuke Oda and Sakaguchi Ango, whom he calls his friends. Dazai finds himself looking for her again and again, wanting to see her, because of him, Oda, Ango and her became acquainted..

Oda and (name) was on a small talking about the orphans until Ango interrupted.

"I feel like I'm quite the third wheel here you know?"

"My, my.. I never knew you were sad that you were left out Ango-kun" She teased.

"Tch. I never knew you liked kids (name)-san" He tried to switch the topic.

"I feel neutral about them—I don't dislike them nor do I like them... I once met a child in the war, she was there as a nurse since her ability allowed her to heal soldiers... such a precious child—if I remember correctly, her name was Yosano" She faintly smiled at the memory.

"You took part in the war.?" Oda fiddled with his fingers.

"Mhm.. as a strategist..." She responded. Both of them stopped in their tracks before she turned around to face them.

"If she was in the healing section and you were a strategist, how did you meet her?" Ango asked, she halted and her eyes widened a bit before laying her head low.

"My ex-lover was a doctor, he was in charge of the nurses in the war including her. I ended our relationship because of how he treated that little girl and some other reasons... in the end, she was left traumatized.. I don't know what happened to her after it was over" She quietly muttered, remembering the bitter memories of the war.

"I see.. I'm sorry for asking-" He tried to apologize but was cut off but a faint voice screaming her name.

"Y/n-san!"

" hmm.? Dazai-" before she could say anything else, his body crashed with hers as he hugged her.

"I'm quite hurt that you didn't invite me you know!" He pouted before looking at both of them.

"Anyway! Why did you three look so glum-" He tried asking but he was cut off by his phone ringing.

"Oh. It's him. Oii slug what do you want?"

"What do you mean what do I want!? You suicidal waste of bandages! We have a mission remember?!" Chūya screamed through his phone while Dazai listened with a nonchalant expression.

"Yea, yea"

"YOU'RE PROBABLY WITH THAT STUPID STRATEGIST AND YOUR EQUALLY STUPID FRIENDS!" He insulted him while Dazai was quite taken aback. He gasped before he returned the screams.

"OI YOU SLUG! YOU'RE PROBABLY JUST JEALOUS THAT I HAVE FRIENDS AND A MOTHER FIGURE!!!" All of you were quite shocked but Dazai didn't even realize what he was saying.

"I DO HAVE FRIENDS! AND I HAVE ANE-SAN!"

"NO YOU DO NOT! YOU MAY HAVE A MOTHER FIGURE BUT ALL YOUR FRIENDS ARE KILLED BY YOUR HOELESS BROTHER!" He screamed, ending the call before Chūya could repriocate what he said and kill him.

"sorry about that, slug was being extra annoying" he smiled but all of them were still processing what he said earlier

"Dazai.. do you see me as a mother figure.?" She asked, coughing. Her words didn't seem to process in his mind for a second or two.

"Of course not! I only said that to piss him off!" He tried explaining, even though his lie was clearly visible; she didn't bother to inquire any further, not wanting to be nosy.

"Now let's go drink I'm thirsty!" Dazai exclaimed, heading to Lupin while they followed.

That was the last time all of them drank. She was sent away because of an organization called the Mimic appeared, Mori kept her busy for a reason she couldn't hold a grasp on. Soon, Ango betrayed the mafia and Oda died. The reason why Mori kept her busy was so she cannot interfere and warn Dazai, now the Port Mafia has a special abilities permit with the cost of everything that mattered to Dazai. She only found out the last minute, and she hates that she can't do anything about it.

After hearing Oda's last words he was about to leave the abandoned mansion until he met her running. She saw Dazai, standing infront of the ballroom door with his head hung low; when she reached him, he collapsed to the floor into her arms. His head was on the crook of her neck, and her arms was around him, hugging him, slowly patting his head as he struggled to breath.

"Shh... It's okay I'm here" Her voice trembled knowing that the kids along with Oda are dead but she could only focus on the poor child in her arms.

"He's dead... Mori-san used the Mimic to get that black envelope and he-" He explained between hiccups.

"I know" She whispered but her voice cracked.

"What did Oda say.?" She patted his back trying to comfort him but his grip tightened on her.

"He wanted me to save people.. to find a value in life" He bit his lip.

"Then go.." She continued to comfort him but he left her embrace upon hearing her words.

"What.?"

"Don't worry about me.. one day you'll find your reason in living, and you would be happy that you listened to him" She smiled at him as he slowly got up.

"Then how about you?" He tried with every bit of strength he could find to convince her to go with him. She got up too, now facing him directly in the eyes she said:

"You're still young, you would be leaving an environment you are never supposed to be in. And I.. My soul is already bounded to the mafia, if I leave with you he'd do what it takes to get me back"

"But still I-"

"Mafiosos will be here soon... Go to Chief Taneda of the Special Division of the Unusual Powers in a small cheep bar, he'll help you. Don't hesitate to turn your back, go" She quickly explained grabbing him by the shoulders with a tenses expression. His lips parted but he didn't know what to say.

"Just go, I'll meet you again" She gave him a reassuring smiled. Upon seeing her eyes, he nodded.

"Thank you.." He quietly muttered before finally leaving.

A/n: Damn that was hard and cringe.. just so you know I kinda got distracted by music while doing this I apologize... For the person who requested this you can go to the comment section and say if you want me to redo it because I'll gladly do so :)

[mncxbe]

hiii! i hope ur requests are open and if theyre not im very sorry and ignore this!

ive been thinking too much about dazai with a younger reader whos 15 and reminds him a lot of himself. like he remembers what oda said and becomes determined to steer u down the right path

overall becomes a sweet (but very annoying sometimes) big brother figure <333

nonnie♡♡ this is hhh such a nice idea I went a bit silly with it hope u like it. he would definitely try to bring you on the right path. to make things even more interesting let's assume you're from the PM.

The two of you met when he was out on a mission with Atsushi. Naturally, he paid no attention to you, a little scrawny kid scrolling on her phone, walking in their direction. But that was until you suddenly attacked them.

You were so relentless in your fight that you ended up badly injured, so they had to take you back to the Ada office to get treated by Yosano. After all, a Port Mafia member or not, Dazai couldn't bring himself to let a kid die.

When you eventually woke up in the infirmery you saw him standing at the edge of your bed, arms crossed in front of his chest as he watched you intently.

"You feeling better kid?" he asked and you only nodded in response, eyes darting around the room, taking in your surroundings.

Dazai noticed the cunning look on your face, the way you scanned the room for possible escapes while still maintaining a nonchalant facade and couldn't help but chuckle.

"Now, now don't worry kid. We'll let you go as soon as you answer some questions"

Dazai asked you about your mission and your involement with your Port Mafia; routine questions mostly: how you ended up working for them, who you serve under, how long you've been with the PM- things to which you gave a half-hearted, disinterested response. But you refused to get into detail about the organization's plans; no matter how much he persuaded you and tried to get inside your head, you just wouldn't break.

With each calculated reply Dazai saw more of his younger self in you; the innate ability to lie like it was your second nature, the way you managed to turn any conversation in your favour and mostly, how impassive you were to any of his threaths.

"You know, if you refuse to cooperate I'm gonna have to get the information out of you in other ways"

You simply sighed, idly picking at your nails. "Well, pain would be bothersome, but I'd rather die than betray the Mafia"

Dazai saw an opening, a slight crack in your carefully built facade "So you're that afraid of what they might do to you if they find out you're a traitor?"

"Nah, but I prefer to stay true to the things I believe in. After all, does life have any value if you give up on your beliefs?"

There it was, the answer he was looking for. Sighing, he rose to his feet, staring down at you "That's quite grim for a kid your age to say."

"I don't think it's grim. More like honest, but who am I to discuss the value of life with you?" you said casually, pointing at his bandages.

"Oh wow touché" he chuckled "But what exactly are those values you're so keenly holding on to, some principles passed down to you by the boss? Can you really call those things values?"

"Sure I can. As long as they give me a purpose to live" For a brief moment you caught a shadow of doubt on the brunette's face. He was conflicted, you could tell.

"You know" he started again "I once thought the same as you do, that good and evil don't matter as long as you do a job and get it done well, but violence and death only give birth to more violence and death. It's a vicious cycle, really, so don't expect to find a purpose or a reason to live in that."

You lowered your gaze, continuing to pick at your nails and he knew the conversation was over. He wasn't gonna get anything out of you.

"Look, kid, you're wasting yourself in there. If you want a reason to live I can give it to you"

"And why would you do that? You don't seem the type to do charity work?"

"Let's just say that that's my purpose in life, to guide people like you on the right path"

"People like me? Meaning petty criminals working for the Mafia?" you inquired mockingly, raising a brow.

Dazai scoffed at your remark "We both know you're more than a petty criminal, but yes. People like you, who don't take life for granted and want to understand its meaning."

"So now you can psychoanalyse me too hm? Are you gonna tell me this mentality of mine comes from the fact that I grew up without a father figure or...?"

Your witty remarks were starting to get to him, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Nah, it comes from the fact that all you've seen in your life is evil and look where this has gotten you. Five years in the Mafia and you're still where you were at the beginning, still searching for a deeper meaning in life. We're more alike than you may think, kid. As I said, I used to be in the same position you're in"

You shrugged, feigning disinterest, but he could tell his words were affecting you.

"And your point is?"

Taking in a deep breath, Dazai combed a hand through his hair "My point is that you should leave the Mafia and join us. Change your perspective. If finding a purpose in life truly is your goal, then you won't regret this decision. Trust me"

You both stood in silence for a while as you considered his proposal. You could technically leave the Mafia, it's not like working there has gotten you anywhere. No matter how many missions you completed or how fast you climbed the ladder, there was still a nagging feeling that you could do more, that there was more to life than this.

You finally raised your gaze to meet his and gave a small nod. "I'll think about it."

"Good, you do that, kid"

Dazai helped you out of the bed and walked you to the front of the building. You left without even saying goodbye, making your way down the street; towards the Port Mafia headquarters. Dazai watched you slowly walk away, your figure growing smaller with each step you took and somewhere deep down he was sure he'd see you again.

[nataliaphantomhivesblog]

Hello! Hope I am not bothering but I wanted to ask: in your post about BSD chapter 109 you mentioned Soukoku dying together eventually and it being hinted at, can you elaborate on that? I mean, I remember the scene in SB with Mori but I do not remember Fifteen very well and where it was hinted at there… Thanks in advance!

Good day, anon! Thank you for your question, I appreciate it:)

Alright so in fiftheen, it's mostly in the subtext of the story.

a good example of this is Dazai's will to live in the fifthteen light novel.

So in the beggining of the story, Dazai is shown to be ultimately bored of life, he only stayed alive to somehow get closer to the human condition, thus, a reason to live yet to be found.

But with the passage of time and nothing catching Dazai off guard or closer to the value of human life, he was basically giving up.

Until Chuuya showed up, of course.

So back to the main point however, Dazai was bored, and when he first met Chuuya, he was still bored.

It was up until the moment that Chuuya kicked the gun right out of Dazai's hands that he got caught off guard and emotionally moved. (Check out the link if necesarry!<3)

Chuuya's impact on Dazai's life is actually so important to the narrative of Fifthteen, paralleling Rimbaud and Verlaine's partnership as well.

It was Chuuya who gave Dazai an intrest in the Port Mafia, not just because of the possibilities of finding meaning through other people, but to find meaning in his partnership with Chuuya.

So, in short, Chuuya helped Dazai find meaning, but honestly, Dazai said it better:

Anyways, it wasn't only Dazai that was battling with a reason to live, Chuuya was too.

In the start of the novel, Chuuya was heavily struggling with his identity, and in order to fill that void, he blindly was loyal to people who constantly overworked him.

It was Dazai who shifted Chuuya's perspective, albiet quite manipulating, it still got Chuuya to realize how he truly wasn't being a leader to the sheep, he was just being used.

I think the scene im painting is sort of evident for die hard bsd fans, Chuuya's (and Dazai's?) verbal confrontation with the sheep:

to make it quick and actually get to the point: Chuuya found a purpose thanks to Dazai and his recruitment to the Port Mafia.

Now you all probably think i'm absolutely off the rails wondering what this have to do with the original question, but i promise, I have a point! Just walk this through with me and you will get it too:)

During Fifthteen, we don't fully see hints of them dying together, but we do see Chuuya and Dazai metaphorically at the brink of death giving each other a reason to keep going through their partnership.

Their reasoning to live is so intrically connected to one another, as well as their dream of persuing the real human condition.

And that's what the subtext of Fifthteen is all about, their partnership bringing a fresh new outlook on something they believed was dead or possibly didn't exist.

But time passes, soukoku's narrative is running out and being "replaced" with shin soukoku's.

Their motivations, their abilities, and their lives are so intertwined that of course, if one dies, the other will follow.

Atleast that's my interpretation of it all! I am not Asagiri and can only assume with what's been shown and hinted so, let's see what he has in store for us<3

[akaashisupremacy]

The Human Cost

Summary: What were you and Chuuya willing to trade for the lives you want to live? 

M. Fandom Masterlist || Chuuya Nakahara x reader

Genre: angst, exes to ??, wc: <1000

“You can just kill me now.” you calmly look at Chuuya Nakahara.

His eyes are bright and angry, and his knife is pointed at your neck. Your back is tensely pressed against a large tree. Even after years have passed, you can tell he hasn’t forgiven you for leaving him.

“We’ll chalk it up as retribution for all the pain I caused you.” you murmur, shifting against the tree.

“You never loved me. You lied.” he hisses. Even under the cover of the night’s darkness, you can see his eyes glint with anger.

“Chuuya, of course I did.” you furrow your brows indignantly. You hated it when he questioned your feelings for him. “You’re the reason I stayed as long as I did with the Port Mafia. I’ve been wanting to leave for ages… but that meant I couldn’t come home to you anymore so I stayed.”

His expression softens a bit, and his knife withdraws from your throat by an inch.

“Being in the Port Mafia gave you so much pride. I joined because I wanted you to be proud of me, too. That and I wanted to be able to live away from the slums.” you dust yourself quietly, “but it wasn’t for me. It was too much meaningless violence.”

You shudder as you recall your time under Koyo Ozaki, who specialized in torture tactics. Koyo was not only ruthless, she was also great at drilling hopelessness to people born in the shadows such as yourself.

Once you were in the mafia, you couldn’t quit unless you were dead. Your only protection came from joining the Armed Detective Agency. Defectors like you and Dazai are still considered traitors. However, you were left alone to keep peace with the agency.

“Then why did you have to leave me?” Chuuya is yelling on top of his lungs while punching the bark beside you. 

You can hear the anger and hurt ringing in his voice. He doesn’t bother asking about your loyalty to the mafia. This is personal.

His fists are balled up so tight his nails dug so deep into his palm. You are afraid he would cut himself.

Chuuya doesn’t like to be seen crying. You know that if you weren’t looking at him, his face would be stained with tears.

You shake your head and smile sadly. There was no way for you to leave the Mafia and still be one of their executives. They would either turn against Chuuya or go after you.

“You’re the one regret I had about leaving.” you sigh in a long exhale, “If there was a way for the both of us to start all over, away from all this mess, where we can like our jobs and live comfortably, I would trade anything for it.”

You pressed emphasis on your last words. Anything. You’d give anything to have it all.

Chuuya sheaths his knife and walks away. He stands on the other side of the tree, somewhat unwilling to leave just yet.

You turn to him to be able to see his profile at the corner of your eye. “Half my purpose is to be in the Detective Agency, and the other half is to be with you. I am content and almost happy right now. But I don’t feel complete—not sure if I ever will, because you’re not with me.”

Chuuya’s anger dissipates. He looks conflicted and sad. He struggles to find his words.

“Do you still think of me often?” he whispers so softly you barely hear him.

“All the time,” your fingers reach out to touch his hand. Chuuya doesn’t pull away nor does he grab you, “Whenever I’m home, I think about what it would be like to have you there and what you would be doing in your home. I try to imagine what it’s like to know about your day, to sleep in the same room, to eat the same food…”

It takes all his self-control not to look at you.

Warm tears start sliding down your face. You miss Chuuya the most when you’re away from work. When you hear Chuuya hold back a sob, you know he feels the same, too.

“I don’t regret being able to join the agency.” you exhale, “The cost was just so high. The cost was you.”

You close your eyes and let your tears fall.  

You’re both quiet for a moment. Each trying to catch your own breath and dry your tears. Chuuya’s fingers are still loosely interlaced with yours.

“Can I ask if you are seeing someone else?” It’s your turn to ask the questions.

“Yes, I am.” he replies.

You frown. You knew the answer but you wanted to hear it from him.

“It’s not...it’s not serious, just for companionship and my physical needs.” he follows up, instantly regretting your reaction.

“Can't be all that different.” you snort, half-fishing. You wait to see what he says about you.

“It's more exhilarating with you,” he assured firmly, “Everything feels more intense and nerve-wrecking with you, as if life is suddenly on steroids.”

Suddenly you feel the warmth of his finger disappear from your hand. You turn around to find that Chuuya has disappeared into the night before you can grab him with your arms.

And now you feel even more alone.

-----------------------------------------------------------

I’m thinking of turning this into a series. Comment or DM if you’d like to be added to the taglist

Taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan

Read another Chuuya fic here. 

[dreamkidddream]

May I request 15 y/o chuuya having an older brother/sister that’s an executive in the port mafia please?

Thank you! And keep writing because you do an amazing job!! ( sorry for my bad English)

Aw thank you 🥺💙 and your English is great don’t apologize! So this somehow turned out a bit on the angsty side, but it has a happy ending. Reader is gender neutral!

CW: Spoilers for Dark Arc/Season 2, minor language

Chuuya with an Older Sibling that’s a Port Mafia Executive

Okay so, you and Chuuya are practically inseparable, and you being the oldest one took on the responsibility of making sure that he was taken care of, no matter how much he claimed that he should be the one protecting you

It led to a lot of petty bickering obviously but you didn’t care and it didn’t really matter in the end, because you both will always have each other’s backs regardless. There was just one problem-

The Port Mafia

You told him about some guy from the Port Mafia approaching you outside one day, speaking about how his boss needs to speak to you and Chuuya. You were already on high alert, how exactly does this guy even know you two, and what exactly does he want with your brother?

You hated to admit it, but what this guy was saying was making you consider his offer, which was scaring you. The Mafia could help in the long run, even if what they did left a bad taste in your mouth. The Sheep was good for now, but you can see the cracks forming between the group, and there’s no telling how long it would hold together. Yes, your brother was- is a great leader to them, but how long would that last? There’s already tension, and it’s not fair to him to take on all of this responsibility and added stress when he didn’t need to. You care about the Sheep too, making bonds that you thought would last, and you hated to sound like a horrible person, but you would rather turn on them before they turn on him, because if they tried to do anything to your brother…you didn’t want to think about what you would do

You had your mind made up: you’ll go talk and make sure that this isn’t some kind of setup but the main goal is to talk to Chuuya first about it. You weren’t doing or making any choices without him, no matter what. And you know that he wouldn’t exactly be happy with you, but maybe, hopefully, you can get him to somewhat listen to you-

Well as expected that didn’t happen

Instead it led to some harsh words being exchanged and him storming out the room. You know that he sees these people as a family, one that you both missed out on having, and he clung onto that sentiment. Leaving the Sheep to him was like leaving home, and he didn’t understand why the hell you would want to trade them out for the Port Mafia of all people! You had to had been threatened, because there is no way that you really believe the Port Mafia is better than what you guys built together

You knew that when that bandaged guy spoke to you, it wasn’t necessarily an option, and that if he found you that quick then the next time he comes back he might bring reinforcements and won’t be as…polite. So you did what you had to do to protect your brother and the Sheep- you left. With tears welling in your eyes threatening to fall, you left long before he came back. But not before promising to come back for him, you swore on your life that you would

So imagine his shock when he came back early in the morning, before the sun was even out, to notice you missing

Something had to happen. Maybe you were threatened, or someone threatened to do something to the Sheep or to him? They didn’t even have the courage to try anything when he’s with you, they had to snatch you in the middle of the night?! And of course, of course it would be when he wasn’t there, the one night when you both had a blow out

He doesn’t believe that you would just up and leave him like that, so you had to be in danger. He never gave up searching for you, never believed that you would purposely just…leave him. You wouldn’t just do that to him-

You went missing, just disappeared without a trace and while he didn’t want to assume the worst, but his faith was slowly dwindling the more time passed. He’s stubbornly holding onto the hope that you’re still alive, he knows you are, but it’s hard when he tries to sleep at night and he has no idea if you’re hurt or laying under a shallow grave taking your last breath-

He tries not to think like that, but what explanation is there? You wouldn’t just leave the Sheep without reason, you wouldn’t abandon him without a good reason. But what reason would be good enough to leave behind your own blood? You guys had your arguments and anger towards one another sometimes, but what sibling didn’t? This just wasn’t making sense to him, none of it was!

And it was not helping in the slightest when the same scumbag kept approaching and bothering him and honestly just making things worse. It seemed like no matter how much he threatened him to tell you where you were or to even tell him if you were still alive, his lips were sealed

Even though he had the Sheep, he still felt abandoned and…alone

So of course he was relieved, heartbroken and pissed when he finally found you, or rather when you found him

He had to blink back tears (was it from the burning sensation of being stabbed with poison or the fact that you’re really standing in front of him, alive?) when he saw that you’re actually here and not a hallucination, but the sense of dread in his stomach worsens when he sees you dressed up in expensive clothes and standing next to the very bastard that he’s coming to despise more and more, with what seemed like your own set of men that you were ordering around

It didn’t help that he was bleeding out after being stabbed by the very people he was beyond loyal too

You however couldn’t help the tears welling in your eyes, running straight to him and gripping him in a tight hug. Your pants are getting dirty and you have tears streaming your face, but you don’t care. You just hug him tighter, with him slowly coming to weakly embrace you back

You just kept spewing out apology after apology, but he just kept his arm wrapped around you, keeping the other on his stab wound. He had so many questions, so many things to say, but-

“Awww, this is so touching! But (Y/N), don’t you think we have some business to take care of before you start your family reunion?”

He couldn’t even spit out an insult quick enough before he could feel himself passing out, but he did hear you calling out to him…

When Chuuya awoke, he saw you by his side, loosely gripping his hand. When you felt him shift, you jumped up. While you’re both glad that you’re finally reunited with one another, he was furious and you had a lot of explaining to do

The icing on the cake was that you admitted that you still watched over him- you never completely left him alone. You couldn’t approach him without raising suspicion of possibly trying to abandon the Port Mafia, let alone get close with Dazai breathing down your neck, but you always settled for just making sure that he was still breathing, still living, even if you weren’t there by his side

A lot of tears were spilled, voices raised, just like the fateful night you left him, but this time it wasn’t out of anger- it was out of pain. You both were hurting in this situation- you because of having to leave your little brother behind to protect him, and him because you left him and he blamed himself this whole time because of it

“(Y/N) you need to understand that just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you get to call the shots, got it?! This isn’t the first time we ran into problems, into dangerous situations and it won’t be the last. But you need to get it through your thick head that we do it together. Stop acting like you’re the only one who has to go through these things alone, because you don’t. It’s never been like that and it sure as hell won’t start today.”

So even though things aren’t exactly back to normal (it felt weird having your little brother sit next to you as an executive too) you got each other back. In a twisted kind of way, the one organization you guys couldn’t stand was the same one that brought you together again

But you wouldn’t be separated anymore. The Port Mafia got what they wanted in the end unfortunately, but so did you and Chuuya

[catzula]

can i req dazai x f!reader where dazai and her are kinda best friends(both of them hv feelings for each other)She’s is v cunning and manipulative using whatever means she can to get informations. They don’t want to confess to each other and they keep their feelings v well & it took one life threatening injury for him to confess to her like she’s at the brink of death fluff ending pls :)) omg this is so detailed

A/N: I’m sorry this took so long to write! Bt ughh, this is my first request, and thank you so much for sending it! Hope you like it :)))

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x fem!Reader

Genre: angst with a good ending

Warnings: mentions of blood, some bad writing here and there, 3k words cuz I have no chill

***

You watched the brunette man as he sipped his drink. You knew you shouldn't watch him like this, should conceal the love that was written all over your face.

He was a smart man, was one of the smartest people you have ever got to know. You knew he could figure the feelings you have harvested towards him if he wanted to, but you were also aware he chose not to notice these feelings that were so dear to you.

It would have been better to be away from him, as far as possible, but you found yourself becoming friends with him, it took only the smallest time before you two became best friends.

"I see you can't take your eyes off of me." He said with a playful wink. He grabbed his drink off the counter and sat on the chair next to you. "I was just wondering when you'll stop staring at me." Your words had a harsher tone than you would have liked, but he understood it anyway.

"But how can I not stare when there's such a beauty in front of me?" You knew these words had no romantic meanings behind them, that they were only a joke.

"Well, that's true."

"Of course it is." He looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. You were a natural at reading people, their feelings, and their thoughts, but when it came to Dazai, you were as good as blind. You could never understand what he was thinking, not when he was looking at you this way.

"What is it?" He asked after a few seconds of silence. You two were in a bar, in the middle of a group of people, but it felt like you were alone. How did he understand something was troubling you? How could he read you so good when you couldn't even tell what he felt?

You smiled, a sly smile you wore when you were playing with someone. Dazai didn't miss the smile either, as his playful girn wavered slightly, he eyed you like he was trying to read your mind. "How is work, Dazai? You never tell me anything these days."

"You know I can't afford to take the risk of telling you. I can't tell if you're interested in my life or my secrets." He shrugged as he smiled, and although he had a smile on, you knew he was serious.

"What do you think?" You winked, but you felt a frown tugging on your lips. You drank what's left of the burning liquid in your glass, not letting him see you were hurt. Dazai not trusting you was a wound you had, he was your best friend after all, but you didn't get any say much about it.

You watched as Kunikida started to lecture Atsushi on something, and it was aware that the subject was something Kunikida gave great importance. You laughed at the sight since this scene happened almost every time you were here. You weren't an official part of the armed detective agency, but they often called you in to help with some missions. They were mainly detective work that required someone who could get any information from anyone.

Although you weren't like them, you didn't have abilities as they did, you had something even better. You were good at reading people, leading them, making them think whatever you wanted them to think, and making them believe they were the genius behind the idea.

You were a natural at manipulating people, had a wit that could even put up with Dazai. You were proud of it too, it was how you lived after all, but this meant that no one could trust you. You knew it was frightening to be manipulated like a puppet, but you would have liked people to trust you. At least, for him to trust you.

But it was your fault, too. Dazai did trust you at one point in his life, but when he realized you had been taking information from him to give your boss, it was too late. When he figured it out, he wasn't mad at you, didn't even complain, say anything about it, but he stopped trusting you with his secrets, his thoughts, his feelings.

Dazai knew if he was going to be close to you, he had to conceal everything about himself, the attraction he felt towards you coming in first. When he figured your manipulative, sly personality he was amazed, and he just wanted to be close to you. You were on his mind constantly, even occupying the thoughts of suicide.

He wasn't hurt when you used him for information, it was your nature, and he had grown to love this personality of yours, but he had to close himself towards you too.

He smirked when he saw you looking at him, your eyes wandering over his face, trying to figure out what was on his mind. He was about to say something when Kunikida groaned. "You two stop flirting already! Our guy is here."

The playful mood changed almost instantly. Everyone turned their eyes to the man who had just entered the bar, except for Dazai. You could feel his eyes on you, but you ignored it, focusing on your work.

You looked at the man, analyzing him, figuring a way to approach him. He was probably was in his 20's, wore a tailored suit, an expensive-looking watch and shoes, although the leather shoes were muddy and dirty, a very sharp contrast to his fancy clothes and nicely done hair, indicating he had come here straight after his 'work'.

He was the son of a billionaire, a dirty billionaire who was working with the mafia. The armed detective agency was after some secret files, and all you had to do was to find out where these files were, after that they were going to handle it. You watched as the man sat on the bar seat, ordering whiskey for himself.

You inhaled an anxious breath and gathered up your courage. This wasn't the first time you were doing something like this, but there was always a risk, and you couldn't afford to relax.

You started to walk towards him with a flirty smile, a smile you have mastered in the past years. You sat next to him, touching his arm lightly and making him focus on you. You saw the small gleam on his eyes when his eyes wandered over your body, the black dress you were wearing, your legs, and your breasts.

You smiled. It was going to be easier than you had thought.

~~~

Dazai hated that he had to watch you smile to the man, touch him, get close to him, watch him looking at you like you were meat on a silver plate. His hands brushed your legs experimentally, sometimes wandering a little too much.

You never even glanced once in his way, but he knew it was because you were a professional, and that could lead you to blow your cover. You were the best at what you did, and he was amazed by you, but now it felt like it was burning him inside. Though, that burning sensation could be the alcohol too.

"They're going." Kunikida stood up as you exited the bar and went in his car.

~~~

"I think I drank a little too much." You said with a neatly faked drunken smile, slurring your words on purpose. Your eyes scanned the car in merely seconds, thinking of the possible places he could have hidden the files as he buckled his seatbelt.

You leaned on him, nuzzling your face in his neck as you secretly checked his side of the door to see if the files were there, they were not. "Is your place close?" You asked kissing his neck softly. He chuckled at your needy behavior and started the car. "Don't worry, you're gonna get what you're asking for in a few minutes."

For some reason, that sentence just didn't seem right, but you concealed your worry immediately.

"I- I feel dizzy. Do you have any water?" You asked as you acted to open the glove box. His eyes widened as he tried to stop you from doing so, but you were quicker.

Bingo.

The files were in there, his eyes looked at you cautiously as you pouted slightly. "Ugh, paperwork! How boring." You said as you closed it back, though your heart was racing. You hadn't expected to find them in his car, and you didn't know what you were going to do to get away from him since Kunikida told you he was going to wait for you at his place.

He grinned as he slowed his car. A grin that just didn't sit right with his ignorant attitude, and you shivered but smiled to hide your growing fear.

"Are we at your place already?!" you asked, although you knew you weren't even close to his house. You glanced him sideways only to find him looking at you too. Your heart was beating so fast in your chest, a knot of fear forming in your stomach. "No, we're not."

"But why did we stop? I thought you wanted to-"

"Gotta give you credit. You're an amazing actor. If I didn't know who you were, I would have fallen for this charade instantly." He said, and you noticed his hand going to his back, under his coat. Your eyes widened with fear as you quickly opened your seatbelt and threw yourself out the door, but he caught your arm and pulled you back.

"Oh, no." He said with an expression that sent shivers down your back, his smile reminding you of the Cheshire cat. "You're not going anywhere."

~~~

"Where are they?!" Kunikida said, feeling his worry growing with every passing second. He glanced at the man who sat next to him, a relaxed, uninterested look on his face. But Kunikida knew his friend very well, and he knew Dazai was worried out of his mind.

Dazai knew something was up when you were late. You were never late. He just didn't want to get in the way of your work just because he was jealous, he had noticed his feelings towards you growing, even more, the last few months and Dazai couldn't tell if he was acting irrationally when it was about you. But now it was just too much, he couldn't hold it in anymore and had to find you, or this feeling in his chest was going to kill him.

Dazai stood up, making Kunikida look at him with worried eyes. "Dazai, you cant-" Dazai sent him a look that made Kunikida sure that there was nothing that could stop Dazai now.

Kunikida sighed. "I'm coming with you."

~~~

He had left you on the side of the road as you pressed your hand on your wound, trying to stop the blood. Your hands felt cold, and you couldn't stop them from shaking. Your hands were painted in red, and even though you were dying, you only had one thing, or one person, on your mind. Dazai.

If you closed your eyes, you could almost see his brown eyes looking at you, his lips turned upwards in a playful grin, and you wanted nothing more than for him to be with you now. You wished to tell him how you felt about him, to touch his face, his hair. And most of all, you wanted to at least share one kiss with him before you died.

You felt guilty, dying before him, but your life was draining out of you as your blood escaped your fingers, and you could swear you heard him call your name. Maybe it was your consciousness closing and your mind playing you tricks, but if it was only a dream, you were still glad to have heard his voice one last time.

"No, no, no! Oh shit, Y/N!" Your eyes were closed as you felt foreign hands pressing on your wound, and combing your hair back from your face. Your body was lifted and hugged by arms you have always wished that would hold you.

You gathered your energy to open your eyes, probably for the last time. You were glad you had the strength to do so since you got to see Dazai once again. Though he wasn't smiling, his face was wet because of the tears running down his cheeks. Seeing him crying, you felt like crying too.

You didn't want to die, it was far too early. You had so much that you wanted to do, and now every dream of yours, every thought you had was taken from you. To be aware of the fact that you were never going to be able to do any of these, to know you were never going to make up for your mistakes, never get married, and maybe even have children hurt more than the wound that caused all of this.

And although you didn't have time for anything you wanted to do, there was one exception. There was one thing you could do, and it would be worth everything else.

"I have to tell you something." Your voice was more of a whisper, and you didn't think he had heard you. But he had. "Don't-" he said, unable to hold his tears. "Don't waste your breath now, you'll tell me when you're all better."

You bit your lip, you felt dizzy and knew it was... Close.

"Listen to me." You said, a little stronger this time. Was it selfish what you were doing? Telling him this now, right before you closed your eyes forever, wasn't it selfish? But you had to tell him, selfish or not, you couldn't hold it in. "Dazai-" you said, trying to hold yourself together, "I- I love you."

He hadn't said anything. You couldn't see it then, but it was because he was crying so hard, he was unable to speak. Your body was numb, and you couldn't feel his shoulders shaking. "I'm sorry it had to end like this."

He shook his head side to side, denying to acknowledge that you were slipping to unconsciousness, and he could do nothing to prevent it. "Where is Yosano?!" He screamed at Kunikida, who was watching you from a few meters away. He couldn't gather the courage to see you die.

"She's on her way, she's going to be here in a few minutes." But Kunikida wasn't sure if you even had a few minutes left, and the look he sent to Dazai told that to him too. To this, Dazai inhaled a sharp breath, one filled with worry. He knew if he was going to tell you his true feelings, this could be the last time. And he was tired, tired of acting around you, as he did with everyone else. You were so special to him and he just wanted to be himself around you. Now he didn't know if he was even going to see you again.

His tears slid down his cheek, a single drop touched your now pale face. "I love you too." He said finally, to that you smiled. "I love you- I love you so much. And I... I need you to stay alive, please (Y/N)! I need you to stay with me- as long as we'd like. I can't lose you, I can't lose you to death, to something I have wanted for so long but now... All I want is you."

He went on rambling, not even noticing your eyes were closed and that you were no longer conscious.

~~~

Dazai couldn't remember what happened that night, after his confession. He had only flashbacks of that night, Dazai remembered Kunikida ripping your then oddly heavy body away from his arms, yelling, trying to get you back. From him, from death.

He remembers sitting on the red-stained ground, sobbing, crying as he had never done before.

He remembers Kunikida, who was secretly crying too, trying to lift him to his legs, but Dazai didn't have the strength to stand up.

And now he was sitting at the office, his head buried in his hands, a deadly headache making him groan in pain. Atsumi had tried to approach him, asking him if he was okay, but it took one look from Dazai to send him back to where he was sitting. No one dared to draw closer to him, not when he was in this situation.

His bandages were soaked in blood, your blood, and he couldn't find it in himself to renew them. All he could do was to lift his head when he heard a door open, and every time it was someone else at the door, his body slumped back on the seat he was sitting, feeling even more hopeless.

It wasn't supposed to take this long, he knew how Yosano worked, and it never lasted this much.

So when she opened the door to her infirmary, covered in blood, he thought his heart was going to stop beating. The tired look on her face didn't tell him much either.

"She is sleeping." She said finally. "But she will be okay."

These words felt like heaven to him, and to everyone else that was in the buro. "She- she is alive?" Dazai finally broke the silence, and she shot him an annoyed look. "I just told you she is-" But before she even finished her sentence, a thump came from Dazai's direction, and for the first time in their lives, the armed detective agency witnessed Dazai passing out.

~~~

You slept for almost a week, though it felt like years to Dazai.

He was playing with his bandages when Kunikida entered the room in search of him. When Dazai looked at him with his now almost dead-looking brown eyes, Kunikida shuddered. "She's awake."

These words brought the light back in his eyes in almost an instant. Dazai stood up on his legs and practically ran out of the room.

He had not once gathered the courage to enter your room. He just couldn't bear the thought of seeing you in those covers would be the last time he would see you, and Dazai couldn't afford to have that sight of you to be the very last memory he had of you.

He loved you, but before that, you were his best friend. You were the person he would come to when he didn't feel good, the person he could just sit next to, not needing to say anything.

And embraced with the memories of you, he opened the door.

You were practically lost between the sheets, looked so small and so fragile, his heart ached with the sight.

When your eyes found him, a smile formed on your face. Dazai didn't know what to say, and it seemed like you didn't either. So after a few awkward seconds, you finally said, "I heard you fainted."

He was so tense that he couldn't hold back the laughter that bubbled up inside him. He tried to suppress it, but he couldn't hold it even for a second as his laughter ringed inside the room.

To that, you started to laugh too. It started as a giggle but turned into laughter in merely seconds. When your laughs both finally died, an awkward feeling took over the room. You were both thinking about the same thing, and it just felt odd.

"Did you mean it?" You finally gathered your courage and asked. His chocolate brown eyes found yours, and for the first time, you could see his feelings in his eyes, you could understand what he was thinking.

You felt a warm sensation in your chest, making you all fuzzy and giddy. "I did mean it. Every single word." He didn't say it, but you knew he was asking you the same thing. "Me too." You answered his silent question, and he smiled. It was a sincere, beautiful smile.

[fifteenleads]

The Chronicler takes his coffee with just a little sugar.

Mornings like this are simply to die for, he can't help but think, as he watches the small cube melt in the hot drink, inhaling deeply his simple brew for the day.

The wall clock is running slower than usual, each second taking twice as long as it should, and he feels his own heart beat twice, too, for every tick— lub-dub, lub-dub.

A click. He left his blind spot open for this purpose, and can't help but smile at the pistol now trained at his head, if only because said firearm is perfect for its just-as-small owner, who scowls at his less-than-excited response, as always.

It sours the pastry he nonetheless bites into, just a little. "You're early today."

"And you've lived way too long already." The Marksman is a consummate professional through and through, from the years they've worked alongside each other. It isn't surprising, therefore, that those vipers would use that fact to drive a wedge between them every time, like so.

Dying by his lover's hand certainly isn't the most ideal way to go, and the Chronicler makes his displeasure known with a fleeting frown. "Wasn't there anyone else available for the job?"

"None." There is a pre-emptive mourning, too, in the Marksman’s hollow reply, but his firing hand remains steady as ever. Silence passes between them once more, and the clock continues to tell the time in soft ticks, like an indefinite countdown to... whatever happens.

He sips more of his coffee, purposefully dragging it out to fully savor this good morning and carve it deep into his memory— not that he would have much use for it after all is said and done, but it's a nice idea to hold onto, at least.

Truly a shame he only brewed enough for one person today, he can't help but think, as he puts down his cup with a gentle clink, slowly tracing the thin rim and getting a light stain on his bandaged finger.

"I don't have all day." The Marksman deftly cuts through his nostalgia like a bullet shot into stone. Finish the job now, cry later, but not for long. It's how he’s always gotten by— and how he will, too, after today is over.

The small wine cellar he calls home will keep him company tonight, at least. A merciful reassurance, all things considered.

It will have to do.

The Chronicler leans back, acquiescing to his lover's demand. "Do what you must."

His command is met with a slight tremble of the hand, and a sharper-than-expected inhale that gives emotion away before it could be stopped. "Any last words?"

Another smile. There's still a person beneath the professional, at least— one he can trust to fight back someday, when the time is right. "None."

He fears nothing at all, at this point.

He feels nothing, either, when the trigger is pulled. There is blood splatter everywhere, however— on the silk tablecloth, the porcelain china, the half-eaten pastry.

It's still a fine morning out, despite the disturbed peace, and the clock continues to tick.

The Marksman huffs as he saunters to the other side, picking up the bullet that has lodged into the sturdy marble tabletop. "Intoccabile. Should have known."

"One who exists outside the plane of time, and is therefore untouchable," the Chronicler continues. "You already knew that, though."

He receives a shrug in reply. "It was worth a try. The vipers won't miss what they don't know about."

Brown eyes watch in amusement as the Marksman pops a sugar cube into his mouth, cataloguing the way small cheeks slightly puff up while he chews away, savoring the unabashed sweetness he prefers his morning coffee with. Such unrefinement becomes his lover very well, and this is made known with a surprise but chaste kiss that has him licking the remnants of saccharine bliss from the other's warm tongue.

"I thought you wanted that glory all for yourself," the Chronicler all but breathes out as they slowly break apart, smirking just a little as he watches dark red bloodstains bloom like roses on white fabric. On realizing this, the Marksman immediately fusses over the front of his shirt, his face turning as red as his hair. "You just gave me yet another reason to kill you, shitty mackerel."

He responds to this with a glint in his eye, as the diagonal hole in his head closes up like a video played in reverse. "Good to know; it's been boring here without my slug lately."

This elicits a low grumble, as always. Still, they lace their fingers together, even as they look away from each other— more for the Marksman's own comfort than his own, really, but the Chronicler already has everything about his lover memorized in full detail already. Par for the course for this job— these roles they have to play.

"So, Chuuya," he drags the name out, like the utter bastard he likes to act as sometimes, "got any plans yet? We don't have all day."

He gets a prompt heel stomp on his toes for it, and a kick to his shin, too, for good measure. "None. But if you shut up and start thinking, Dazai, we will."

They both smile at that. They'll probably only end up running away again— to another city, or even another dimension altogether, but they're doing this together. Always have for the past thousand years, and always will. Whatever happens will never matter as much as fine mornings like this and good coffee sweetened to taste, after all.

[rokutouxei]

in a way that would make you proud

bungou stray dogs dazai osamu (& oda sakunosuke) | T | 2913 | [ao3]

warnings: post-canon, alcohol, dazai-typical suicide references, implied/referenced self-harm, oda is still dead, also everything is in lowercase. spoilers for dark era / 黒の時代.

notes: this was supposed to be for dazai’s birthday, but i started it way too late. i didn’t want to rush it, so i took a week to write it and now it’s just a long angsty love letter from me to him (in a way.) + first bsd fic so i wanted to make a good impression LOL

summary:

dazai didn’t think he’d live up to the age of 23. hell, he didn’t think he’d make it to 18. he was sure, at 10, that he would be dead by 15. everyday he would wake up wondering (hoping? believing?) that he’d be dead the next day. he never really does. alternatively: june 19th, every year, just feels like a long, long night.

-

(midnight.)

dazai doesn’t celebrate his birthdays, at least in his head. it’s just another likely-humid day in the country’s short rainy season. every birthday is just another reminder, no, a testament to a year of failed attempts to take his own life. it’s miserable at the worst. today, it’s just numb. he doesn’t even wake up feeling any different.

but he doesn’t let that train of thought stop everyone around him for celebrating for him.

dazai considers, for the first few minutes after waking up, skipping work altogether. it’s not going to be surprising, or anything new from him, really. and an earful from kunikida is just going to be cheap fun for the next day. but as dawn slowly gave way to the sun, he figured dealing with the pleasantries (as in, the “surprise” party that had stopped being a surprise a week ago) and sitting in his office chair would make him feel a little more put-together, at least more than just lying in his futon with his new roommate, a growing stack of empty cans of ready-to-eat crab.

dazai sighs, shuffles out of his bed, hearing the imaginary shackles that bind him there clink around.

(one o’clock am)

besides, the members of the armed detective agency think of themselves a small family at best, and for families, birthdays are special. (dazai hums this to himself on his way to work, like it’s a fact he’s learned, not a lived experience.) he’s spent the past two years carving himself a spot in this mismatched little group, and even if his space feels just as impermanent as anything he’s ever wanted, it’s still a place. he isn’t going to lose all that hard work over a random day.

budget is tight this quarter, but when he gets to the office, he’s welcomed with, salad, karaage… and even crab! there’s no alcohol because kunikida is too strait-laced for that and he insists there’s still work to be done. dazai whines and makes complaints, as everyone expects him to.

most of his colleagues have small gifts for him, like an orange from kenji, a candy from ranpo (quickly taken back), his favorite bandages from yosano… nothing really spectacular. kunikida gets him nothing, but the wordless glance they share with each other says otherwise.

atsushi feels indebted to his mentor, so he splurges to get him something nice: a scarf. which is hilarious, to say the least, considering it’s basically summer, but since scarves are off-season they are cheaper, and that’s the only way atsushi can afford something as stunning and high-quality as this—a nice thick cotton one in a deep blue shade. he passes the credit to kyouka for choosing which to get and for wrapping it nicely.

dazai’s eyes flicker with something for a moment before it’s gone. he thanks them with as much heart as he can muster, then does his usual dramatics. asks if the scarf is sturdy enough to hang himself with.

atsushi begs him please don’t and dazai feels something squeeze in his heart.

after the feast, the rest of the day goes as it usually does: dazai smiles and makes jokes and laughs and drives kunikida batshit insane. it’s just a normal day at the armed detective agency office.

just not for dazai.

(two o’clock am)

a work day is still a work day, though, and there’s no getting away from kunikida even on “personal holidays.” there are reports to be written and things to be followed up. dazai isn’t being efficient about it, but he still does his share—at least enough so that it’s even a bit fair for his begrudging partner, who is always gentler to him on this particular day.

an extra serving of patience—that’s what kunikida always gives him on his birthday. and even on this year, dazai’s quick to claim it; two hours before the work day officially ends, he’s already packing up to leave.

not that kunikida’s screaming will really stop him, but it feels a little better when dazai can afford to leave a little early with permission.

atsushi’s a little surprised no one stops dazai from leaving, but he asks no more questions when kyouka shushes him. kunikida only tsks when dazai is out of the building.

(three o’clock am)

out of the office and back into the rush of the city, dazai’s feet bring him to a beeline to that place, like on autopilot. he’s humming all the way there but his brain’s only echoing a sort of static. that is, until the imagery of sitting next to empty seats begins to burrow into the haze of his mind—and it hurts. numbness is okay, but pain? it hurts the same way squeezing into old shoes that no longer fit you does.

and dazai hates it.

so he steels himself, says, no one’s there anymore, insists, there is nothing to come back to.

even if he knows he will find himself there again one day. he always, inevitably does.

but not today. that’s not where he feels safe enough to break.

this time, dazai’s a little more purposeful, a little more awake.

he drops by a liquor store to get whiskey. just goes up the aisle and picks up the first one he finds. it’s not like he’ll remember what it tastes, anyway. the cashier doesn’t make small talk. dazai smiles at them anyway.

he contemplates buying flowers, but he feels a pang of pain at gifting something that’ll die before he does.

and so he begins the long, slow walk to the seaside.

(yesterday, today, and tomorrow)

yokohama is too familiar to him now. he’s lived here too long.

every street bears his secrets. every crosswalk has a memory.

every inch of the city has a weight.

when he was still learning to maneuver the ins and outs of the city, a little boy barely filling in the hollow of his new uniform, there was darkness everywhere. everywhere he entered, everywhere he left. dazai was sure the darkness would quickly consume him.

dazai didn’t think he’d live up to the age of 22.

hell, he didn’t think he’d make it to 18. he was sure, at 10, that he would be dead by 15.

every day he wakes up wondering (hoping? believing?) if he’d be dead the next day.

today, he’s 23.

odasaku died at 23.

dazai should have died at 15.

or better yet, it should have been him who died at the hands of mimic.

he’s sure.

(four o’clock am)

even if odasaku had acted of his own accord, he was still given a mafia’s burial. the details, of course, were hushed: it didn’t matter that mori had orchestrated the entire deal with gide. what mattered is that odasaku’s death had led to the granting of their prized business permit.

a piece of paper in a stupid black envelope.

in the months between the port mafia and the armed detective agency, dazai struggled to find a way to put into words what the experience left in him. it was like it was him who was shot clean through the chest. he was walking down the path the end of odasaku’s life had pointed him towards, but then what? at what cost? to what end?

his friend’s death left no trace of him, his private files burnt, the ones still useful to the mafia kept in confidential locations. (dazai knows where everything is.) to the outside world, all that was left of the man named oda sakunosuke was a headstone, on a rather beautiful gravesite on a fancy cemetery overlooking the sea.

it was dazai who overlooked all these tiny details, even while on the run, in hiding.

honor the dead, they said.

he figured it was the least he could do.

dazai always felt like he could offer too little to the only man who ever really knew him.

so now he offers it all, stumbling along the unfinished path of a dead man, even if he didn’t know where was he going with it.

“ya, odasaku.”

(ten minutes past four)

not much of anyone comes to visit this grave, really. ango, maybe, dazai bitterly thinks, but he’s gladly never had the chance to see the man here. (he hopes he never gets to.)

because this is the only place dazai truly feels quiet.

he doesn’t really stop thinking. he doesn’t know how to. there’s always too many things to consider, so much going on, and even when his brain lets go of the tangible, of the here and now, there are other things for thoughts to latch on to, like old wounds that suddenly seem fresh if dazai closes his eyes hard enough, or the phantom sensation of a noose, or the sudden realization that he’s drowning, just not in water.

dazai’s long mastered the art of keeping his forever-rushing thoughts in neat compartments. he doesn’t usually lose track of his spirals, except when he’s here.

here he counts down, 18, goodbye, 17, 16, 15, hello, he is young again, he isn’t wounded in the places that hurt when he’s alone, he is meeting odasaku for the first time. (he’s walking down the port mafia headquarters and he sees him, and something deep within him, six years away from the future, shouts: don’t! spare him! meeting you is a death sentence!)

and then he is meeting him for the last time.

like freshly pumped from a weakened heart, stuttering, begging to live, the spurting red blood is still warm. it sends those in dazai’s veins boiling. there is no rationalizing here—no amount of reason brings the dead back.

he knows that.

but dazai breathes easier when the lines are less muddled, and he can point the criminal to the judge and sentence them to death.

it was mori ougai, sir.

it was gide, sir.

it was me, sir.

it was him—it was oda sakunosuke’s fault, sir.

(it was him who pulled me out of the dark, sir. who forced me to deal with the mess we made, sir. who told me i belonged here, sir.

i don’t want to be here, sir.)

it is only here where dazai’s mask really breaks.

shatters cleanly in half, then falls down with a thump on sacred ground.

(twenty minutes past four)

dazai rests his back against the headstone, staring out at the ocean, the sunset dyeing yokohama bay a lovely vermillion. the tendrils of loneliness cling to his limbs like they’ve sprouted out of the ground, when really it’s from deep inside his heart.

only here does dazai really feel seen: his transparency only to a man buried six feet under.

dazai’s given up on it, now. it doesn’t matter that people don’t “get” him, as long as he’s able to do what he has to do. this is a luxury is long past him, now that he’s slipped into someone else’s unfulfilled dream. he’s trying to be what odasaku would have wanted himself to be.

if there’s one thing, one thing he would ask for, it’s faith: and with his subordinates’ faith comes success—and that’s all he needs.

just bargaining chips he’s collecting under his pillow as he says, “look, odasaku, i’m doing good, look, cruel god, this duty’s given my life meaning, forgive me, forgive him.”

meaning?

no, there is no meaning here, no metaphor, no hope.

just a gaping void.

(four thirty am)

the sun slips under the bay and the sky is a beautiful lavender-violet; the sea breeze makes him chill. rainclouds have begun to crawl over the horizon, hiding the moon.

dazai feels old. too old. he feels too old for someone in a body that’s only twenty-three. he never expected this body to last as long as it has. he was ready to retire at ages much younger than this. his hands crave death with the same vigor his mind races to write strategies for situations where he survives. now, he lives in a world he never expected or planned to be a part of.

he wonders if odasaku felt this exhausted when he was at this age.

all dazai does here is think. until the thoughts stop.

the cap of the whiskey bottle is screwed on tight but when it opens, the smell takes him back to bar lupin so fast that his head spins. dazai takes a swig of the whiskey straight from the bottle.

and he was right. he can’t taste it.

only blood. the blood in his hands, the way it stained his bandages, odasaku’s dead weight, the red pooling on the floor. dazai only tastes blood in his mouth.

blood’s always been the only thing that’s filled him.

and he hated it. felt it thrumming underneath his wrist, his jugular, blood that said try as you might, you insolent mortal, you can’t die, that so many times he’s tried to wring himself dry of it.

he never does.

because if he loses his blood what else would be left in him?

odasaku once told him that the emptiness inside of him will never be filled, not by anything that he’ll ever find in this world. and odasaku was right—dazai knew. dazai knew long before he was told. no amount of money, no amount of power, no amount of whatever will get him out of the edge of the cliff he was dangling on.

for a moment, dazai wonders if odasaku knew and was so sure of it because odasaku was aware he was taking it away with him.

whatever “it” was.

(the sun begins to paint the sky violet)

dazai remembers an afternoon a million years ago when the hollow in his heart didn’t have the shape of oda sakunosuke’s hands. ozaki kouyou was teaching two jittery fifteen-year-olds about literature.

well, just one, but dazai’s really only there because he wanted to mess with chuuya, and kouyou spotted him first.

with not a single year of formal education on chuuya’s back, kouyou’s work with him was nearly tenfold. she was tasked not only to refine his abilities (he’s good, but he can be better, a touch of elegance will not hurt), but also teach him other valuable skills.

being part of the organization, after all, was not just about violence and murder.

dazai knew that. chuuya was yet to learn it.

arithmetic and history and science—the redhead had tutors for that. but literature, kouyou had taken into her hands.

it’s not the text itself, or the language and vocabulary, she said, what we’re honing here is critical thinking, and the bits of philosophical thought to be picked up that’ll shape you into a brilliant mafioso in the future. pretty words, dazai thought. she sipped tea while chuuya read. she tapped his back with a fan when his posture broke and he began to slouch.

chuuya read the books religiously, without complaint (at least not in front of kouyou). dazai never really understood all this. he let his mind wander. why didn’t she just let the boy read war strategy books—the kind mori made him devour? oh, but chuuya wasn’t really a strategist, and well, he’s obedient, that’s why he’s a dog—

the silence of the afternoon was broken by chuuya getting up to ask about a phrase he didn’t understand. kouyou smiled in a way that left dazai unsettled. and somehow, that afternoon was burned into dazai’s memory like it was something he mustn’t forget.

the phrase was 無我夢中.

to be totally absorbed in something, you lose yourself in it.

that is, dazai’s long known what he’s doing, he just doesn’t want to admit it.

(the sky is a weak light blue, giving way to an inevitable morning)

the whiskey bottle is empty now. dazai shifts to stuff it into his little paper bag of gifts when his fingers graze the soft cotton of his new scarf, deep blue.

save the weak, protect the orphans, he was told.

he pulls the scarf out and clutches it in his hands.

feels its weight. imagines rope.

please don’t, atsushi said earlier.

and dazai is trying, and trying, and trying, and—

is it enough?

is he enough?

will he be enough?

“odasaku,” dazai says, hums it under his breath like the wind will take it, bring it where he needs it to go, “would i have made you proud?”

(dawn)

fat droplets begin to pour out of the dark clouds. there are no stars out. yokohama glimmers under the thin sheen of rain.

nearby, a child hurriedly grasps his father’s free hand as he digs into his bag for an umbrella, and the little boy goes, “papa, the sky is crying!”

and maybe the sky is. maybe the man sitting behind the gravestone is.

but there are two sure things about rain:

one, that it washes away any and all things if you let it.

two, that it will always, somehow, at some point, stop.

(morning’s just beginning)

dazai gets up on his feet, with just a little sway from all the alcohol. but the night’s still young, and there are better stuff to drink than whiskey out of a bottle. he looks back at the grave with eyes promising he’ll be back soon, a little better, a little wiser than he is, and then off he goes, into the city he far-too-well knows.

maybe he can bother someone into treating him to some good, expensive, old-fashioned wine.

[living-in-the-state-of-dreaming]

Since there was a scenario about yandere Chuuya, would it be alright with you if I requested one about yandere! Dazai? Maybe something like someone figured out about Dazai’s yandere tendency’s and their trying to get s/o away from him, even though they don’t wanna leave him because they really actually love him? What would his thoughts be during that moment and how would he handle the situation/ the person? I hope I explained this properly and I hope this isn’t too detailed of the idea.

Certainly! ^~^ And don’t worry you explained it perfectly! I just hope that this is alright as this is my first time writing for Dazai just like it was with Chuuya so I hope you enjoy it. I’m very sorry about the wait though. x_x 

Yandere! Osamu Dazai Scenario.

Osamu Dazai had always been good at covering his tracks. It had been one of the many reasons as to why he was so respected and feared during his time as an executive in the Port Mafia. The youngest in history. Purposely leaving bread crumbs for others to follow was but one of the many ways he had lured people out and into the open before they tumbled right into his carefully and strategically placed traps without being the wiser. It had also been one of the ways in which he had eluded the agents of the Port mafia that he knew had been looking for him for so long during the time in which he had been in hiding before going underground with the help of an associate of his. 

So when he had been approached by his darling s/o’s former lover who had spoken the grim promise as a dark glare of hatred had been over the young man’s face Dazai had nearly been impressed. The only time he’d seen that type of glare was when he’d done something to piss off the Chibi. Though he’d truly thought nothing of it and had only looked at the said individual with an innocent and polite expression, saying that he didn’t know what he was talking about as he acted none the wiser, which only seemed to aggravate the males anger even more as the glare darkened; and just for a moment he had seen the flicker of a snarl as his lips had curled for just a moment. It was that very snarl that had sent a chill of delight through Dazai as his more mischievous and devious side began to stir as the words all rose to the tip of his tongue, waiting in anticipation to be spoken for the purpose of seeing if he could get more anger out of his male. The fact that his temper only reminded him of a certain chibi’s own temper was something that only pushed on that desire. Yet, he didn’t say them and instead kept the smile that was currently on his expression. Was he threatened by this individual and the glare in their eyes? Of course not. 

Why would he be afraid of a dog? 

The only reason he had even stayed seated there was the fact that he wanted to humor this individual and out of curiosity. He’d wanted to see whether or not this person was here for the reason he suspected and he’d been right. 

“ Stay the hell away from s/o you bastard. S/o deserves better than you and I will do whatever it takes to protect her. “ 

These had been the words that he had spoken threatening, promising and clear before he had left out the door and as he had Dazai’s eyes stayed on his retreating form; before his gaze had returned down to the polished wooden floors as he didn’t speak a word. 

In truth he hadn’t taken it seriously at all. Until his darling began to ask if he had talked to the same young man, saying that he’d texted her and told her something that she clearly found disconcerting. At seeing how reluctant and hesitant she was to speak up about what he’d told her suspicion had shot down Dazai’s spine like someone had poured a bucket of ice water down it, before later being joined by anger upon reading the messages on s/o’s phone when she had been asleep. 

He had been expected some brief messages advising her to keep her distance from him, but no. No, it was far more intense and far less vague than that. The person was deliberately trying to pull s/o away from him, not simply make her cautious and from the underlying meanings beneath the words, it was very clear to Dazai that this mans intent wasn’t innocent and pure at all 

He wanted his s/o for himself. 

For a long moment dark chocolate hues had stared at the words on the phone but as each syllable sunk in the emotion drained from them before turning them cold and devoid of emotion. The only emotion left was the merciless anger only seen by those who had been unfortunate enough in the mafia and those who had been unlucky enough to have been interrogated by him. Those who worked under him had been lucky enough to walk away with their lives but those who were not….. 

The ways he could make this individual suffer began to churn like clockwork inside of Dazai’s head each one as merciless as the last and ones that would leave his life in pieces. It was a fitting punishment for daring to think they could simply take her away from him after all. 

This wouldn’t do. After all, this man clearly knew too much and wasn’t to be taken lightly. As stupid and reckless as he seemed he was still very much a threat and that was very clear with how he was already affecting his s/o. The rumors were affecting her and that alone raised red flags inside of Dazai but he knew he couldn’t act too quickly. 

This would take time and patience. Luring the mouse into their inevitable demise always did after all but until then he would need to distract and occupy his darling and chase that damn suspicion from her thoughts. He had no problem with that after all.~

As the days passed he had done just that, spoiling his s/o with his attention and taking them anywhere they wanted to go. He’d called in with the director and Kunikdia saying he wouldn’t be able to work for at least a few days but he didn’t say why he’d just called Kunikida, waited for him to pick up, said what he needed and then hung up with the same cheery and polite tone while ignoring anything that Kunikida had said. He could still picture the fuse that he’d’ve blown after getting that call and it still made him feel delighted. He had enjoyed their company just as he always had and the smile that he’d shown was completely genuine, not the pleasant and innocent one that he would often wear.

When they eventually arrived back to his apartment she was so worn out that he’d had to carry her over to the futon. As soon as her head had met the pillow she had instantly fallen asleep on the futon and he couldn’t help the smile that came to him at watching how at home and at ease she was in his company, he felt the same way after all. After so long of feeling nothing and being without hope, she’d been one of the few things that had given him it, a warmth that he loved nearly as much as he loved her. It was just a shame that that pure heart was now his, who was very far from being the innocent angel despite what his innocent and pleasant smile showed to the fools who fell for it. Still, he couldn’t help leaning down and dropping a small kiss on her forehead, doing so softly as to not wake her before he’d left the room and apartment. Quietly locking the door to his apartment behind him as he did so. 

As the cool night air met him his hands went into the pockets of his long coat, each stride being relaxed and eased as they mirrored the expression on his face. His footsteps only stopped when he reached his destination, an apartment that had not been leased in weeks, having gotten the keys from the person who owned it his fingers closed around the key before pulling it out and unlocking the door. Stepping inside before closing it behind him; the same song that he enjoyed listening and singing along with left him as he made his way further into the house. 

“ You can’t do a double suicide all on your own. Boom boom it takes two who don’t wanna die.~ “  

Making his way down the stairs to the basement area of the apartment, Dazai’s eyes fell on male seated in the chair. Arms cuffed behind his back while being otherwise bound to the chair by the rope that he had made sure to tighten to prevent him from escaping in the event that he woke up while he was away. By the looks of things the drug that he’d slipped into the males drink at the cafe had seemed to have affected him nicely since he still seemed to be out cold; however he knew the side effects of sleep that the drug had given him would be wearing off in-

Just as this thought crossed his mind the man stirs from his sleep with a quiet groan followed by the predictable groans and muffled questionings. Dazai did not respond to this however and only watched as he slipped back into consciousness before he finally broke the silence with the same cheerful and polite tone of voice he would often use. 

“ And good morning to you~ You certainly woke up sooner then I thought you would. “ 

As soon as he said this the male’s eyes widened with shocked fear while his body had stiffened before quickly looking up only for that same glare to return to his eyes. He didn’t say anything though and instead, he gave a tug to his wrists. A lot of good that did, it was a feeble attempt really since there was a very small chance that this male was going to be able to free his hands from the cuffs that he had purposely tightened around his wrists but still Dazai continued to watch as he attempted, before inevitably giving up. 

“ Let me go you son of a bitch! “ 

The biting words that escaped this person’s lips as the snarl was now clear on his expression made a smirk comes to Dazai’s expression as his eyes darkened. Yes, this was what he’d seen, he knew this would happen, the prey always bared its teeth and tried to intimidate its captors by showing its teeth. How many times had he seen it on the faces of those who they had captured for interrogation? This man reminded him of the many who he had put in a similar place. A mixture of his former partner whom he couldn’t stand and those who he thought of as little more as dirt under his shoe. 

“ I’m sorry but I’m afraid I can’t do that. “ 

The words escaped him smoothly and politely but the dark undertone in his voice screamed louder than the words that left him. He could feel the uneasiness that settled inside of the other male as the silence that he was met with in response spoke louder than any protest that he could’ve given him; and it was one that he currently found himself reveling in as he began to walk over to where he was sitting. 

“ When you approached me at the cafe I really didn’t take it seriously. I was going to ignore it and brush it off, after all, why would I be threatened by you? But then you just had to go texting s/o about my past. Even going so far as to try to take her for yourself after implementing your little plan. “ speaking in an exasperated tone of voice before stopping only when he was standing directly in front of him. As Dazai stood in front of him, his taller frame towered over the others bound and restrained figure before him, the same merciless coldness that many had seen overtook any trace of a smile as anger was the only thing that remained in his eyes and as he spoke again; his voice was now devoid of anything else. Mirroring the cold anger that could be seen in his eyes perfectly. 

“ Did you really think that I was going to let that slide? “ 

If the fear that came to his mans face said anything it was that he was now deeply regretting his decision and he should because he certainly wasn’t here to just chat with him. He’d drugged him, kidnapped him and devised this entire plan all for the purpose of teaching this guy a lesson he would not soon forget and this wasn’t even the best part, but fortunately for him, he was mere moments away from being able to get to that. The thought alone made a smirk come to his expression as the same look remained in his eyes “ Not that it matters. After all, there wasn’t a single person that didn’t talk or break for that matter after I was through with them. You won’t be any different. Although “ raising one of his hands before placing the other on his forearm the sounds of his knuckles cracking sounded through the room  “ Just for you I’ll personally take my time in making it agonizing, it’s the perfect punishment for you trying to take my s/o after all. “ 

[leonawriter]

In The Moonlight

Also on AO3

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs

Characters: Chuuya, Dazai, Atsushi, Kyouka, others.

Pairings: Dazai/Chuuya

Notes: BEAST AU fix-fic. Dazai-typical suicide references. Book Dazai AU.

Chuuya finding the Book isn't entirely an accident. Chuuya falling out of the mafia building after Dazai wasn't an accident at all. Neither was pushing himself to breaking point to make damn sure both he and Dazai survived hitting the ground.

But surviving is one thing. Picking up the pieces of the world in the aftermath of it all, would be another thing entirely.

...

Chuuya leaves, figuring that whatever Dazai wanted to do, he could damn well do without Chuuya - he'd done well enough by that account for the past several years, after all, so what'd be so different about now?

He almost trips, almost falls-

shouldn't be possible like that with his ability he  shouldn't and yet andyet-

-and remembers that he'd left something in Dazai's old office. The one Dazai used to have as his home base of sorts, when they were still basically dorming together in the mafia stronghold, having nowhere else to go and no one else to take them in.

At one point, they'd hated each other and worked seamlessly, almost as if where one stopped the other one started.

Then again, at one point, the room he'd just left had been the same one he could still remember pledging loyalty to the mafia - to one man - in, and now, here he was, with all of the reasons he'd sworn that oath having been burnt away over time into the smouldering ashes of could-have-beens.

(He'd seen Dazai plot and set traps around Mori around the time of the Mimic incident; something about the entire thing had left him feeling vaguely sick afterwards, an ache in his side, watching as his world crumbled, fell, and then neatly rebuilt and rearranged itself around him.

Ah, he'd thought sometime later, that's why, he'd thought, remembering how Shirase had stabbed him by getting in close. It was just another betrayal, after all, just another organisation he could have - should have - done more for, where he was slowly being taken for granted.

Again.)

You've forgotten something, his feet still said, taking him back. Who even knew why, it wasn't as if he could change anything.

It wasn't as though he could go back into their past, and somehow change things - it wasn't as if he'd know what to change. He didn't have Dazai's mind for that sort of shit. But then, given where Dazai was right now-

Maybe that was for the best.

...

The Boss' old room from when he wasn't even an executive yet was barely touched from the time when that'd been the case, and this was the only office Dazai'd had, and part of that was because of how little time he'd spent here before moving on to bigger and better places higher up in the food chain.

Or at least, that's what he seemed to want everyone else to think.

'Everyone else' wasn't Chuuya, though, and Chuuya found it all too easy to see the differences - a little less cluttered here, perhaps, a little less full of life. Much like the man it belonged to. The couch they'd bothered each other on before things had started to change was in here, and so were a few other things, although all of them seemed to have been thrown onto the floor rather than treated with any sort of respect or, god forbid, sentiment.

He must have forgotten what he'd come in here for, because he couldn't for the life of him think what could be his in this memorial of a room that he'd want to take with him, that he might have left behind.

That damn bastard had even just left a torn up notebook full of his own writing just scattered on the floor, the binding pretty much coming loose in places.

He bent down to pick it up.

One gloved finger brushed a page.

...

One moment he is crouched on the floor of Dazai's old office.

The next he is seeing himself, frozen in time, outside of space and everything, and at the same time, a part of it.

At first, it is quiet. 

Then, he hears something, at the edge of his awareness, a papery sound, as if-

...

His awareness spreads from one page to every single page, and it is too much, too fast, and he thinks he hears himself screaming-

(Hears himself screaming Dazai's name and sees himself shoving an entire skyscraper down a dragon's maw in the midst of Corruption, and Dazai is dressed in white, the white of death, and yet he wakes and touches Chuuya-)

-until he almost can't hear himself any longer, or he would say that, except, something about the thought feels wrong.

Was it even his scream? 

Visions of their very own White Reaper, the weretiger Atsushi, flicker in his mind, dressed in a different kind of black-and-white, more white than black, screaming out the name of the Agency's newest recruit in rage.

It all passes him by in an instant, like old camera footage on film, but he can hear it and feel it at the same time. As if he's there.

He doesn't understand.

...

Dazai is standing in front of him, looking roughed up, which sets Chuuya on edge immediately, even before he takes in any real notice of the Boss' clothes, because anyone or anything that could get that close to the Boss, could hurt the Boss, was on him. Keeping the Boss safe from harm, even if it was from himself, was Chuuya's own job, damn it.

And then he looks down at Dazai, and sees the brown coat, the beige trousers, the waistcoat, the tie... more colour than he thinks he's ever seen on Dazai, even on undercover missions. And not a hint of black or red.

Then again, he looks at himself, and he looks much like he did when he was first taken in. How he'd stayed for years, until Dazai had taken over. Before he'd had to resign himself to staying indoors, and barely even seeing or walking the streets of the city he loved.

"If I step in too late," Dazai was saying, "you'll die. It's your call."

He watches himself go.

Trusting Dazai with his life.

Watches himself let go, and give in.

He closes his eyes, and wonders just how long it had taken for him to doubt that trust.

Because he can't look, can't watch himself go like this, and it shakes him when he opens his eyes to see-

Nothing, and everything.

He closes his eyes again, and wonders when it was that he had begun to not bear to look.

...

"Stop it," he says, even though he doesn't truly have a voice here.

"Stop it," he cries out.

He curls in on himself, reaching for a hat that doesn't exist, although the universe has the ability to make another, or a hundred thousand hats the exact same, each one with the handwritten word "Rimbaud" inked into the brim.

It doesn't matter here if he's human or not, because his ability doesn't exist, and all that does are the images and scenes of lives as they could have been, a countless number that are tearing him to shreds.

"Please," he says, the word getting torn out of him, "I just want to go back."

...

The whirlwind dies down. 

He starts to be able to think again.

And then-

...

Liar.

...

The  word comes from everything, all around. The entire world telling him that he had to be telling a lie.

Liar, the world said, again. 

You could have any one of these. You could change the world to your whim. 

You don't want to go back.

Liar.

...

"I just want to go back," he couldn't help repeating, as if saying it would make it true. 

Seeing those things made him want so badly, made him tempted, and yet...

...

I can't be him. 

...

That was right.

Whoever the Chuuya in there was, every time he saw him, he seemed so much younger, so much more naive, and as if he'd barely seen anything of the world.

That wasn't him, he couldn't be that person - maybe he could have, once, but not anymore.

...

...can't be-

...

Chuuya just wishes, for a moment, that the one he was stuck with could be just a little bit more like-

...

I CAN'T BE HIM - I CAN'T BE THAT PERSON.

I CAN'T BE HIM.

YOU CAN'T WANT ME, ALL ANYONE WANTS IS THE ONE WHO ISN'T ME, AND I CAN'T-

...

Knowledge and understanding flood his being in a split second. One moment, there's the confusion of wondering where the voice was coming from that spoke directly into everything so that his very bones (or where bones should be) shook him and gave him such an all-encompassing sensation of despair.

He was inside the Book.

Everything that he had seen was an alternate timeline, an alternate version of events, a possibility.

Dazai would tell Atsushi and Akutagawa that only three people could understand the Book's true use and purpose at a time, and that this would be a lie, as he simply knew that the Book would not be able to withstand being used even one more time.

The incontrovertible truth that Dazai Osamu, regardless of the fact that he seemed to not be aware of this himself... was the Book itself.

Or at least, the part that Chuuya was in right now, was the part made of paper that couldn't burn or be destroyed by normal means, and yet had been used to destruction by Dazai's  very own self.

He could find out anything, he realised. Anything at all.

Instead, he simply closed his eyes.

"Put me back," he said, using the same tone of voice he used on jittery subordinates who'd never killed before. Gentle, but firm. "And stop assuming you know what I want, asshole."

...

Chuuya opens his eyes, and catches a sheet of what he had been assuming to be notebook paper, that had blown free from the carpeted floor, and puts it carefully with the rest. Neither it nor the rest of the ripped-out pages will go back in the way they went, but that's not the main issue right now. the important thing was not losing any.

And then, when it's secure and safely tucked away in an inner pocket, the Book - snug against his heart - feels almost as though it's telling him to find a window, to be quick-

...

It's not easy, getting Dazai down. It involves a lot of stopping and starting, running down windows and aborted attempts at going ahead to break one and get him inside before they reach the ground, before having to simply catch the falling fish again and the times when he's just carrying his boss, reacting like someone who's never had an ability - which isn't something that comes naturally to him, more so than for anyone else, given he's never known what it's like to live without it.

By the time they're on the ground, Dazai's staring at him with a single accusing eye (strange, now that he's seen the Dazai-in-brown with both eyes open), as if he's just interrupted something important.

Which, he thinks, according to Dazai, he had.

Not that he gives a flying fuck what Dazai thinks right now, because he's pissed off, and trying to not look too much like he is, because Dazai or not, suicide attempt or not, this was still his Boss.

"...You stopped me," Dazai says eventually. There's a hint of real anger in his voice, but for once Chuuya isn't intimidated. 

"I don't remember ever resigning," he says, out of breath. He's pretty sure he can feel bruises he's going to feel for ages, and his suit's torn from broken glass, sticky from it too, from where the glass slid in a touch too deeply when he was holding Dazai and couldn't push it away in time. "I don't remember quitting, either," he adds. "You know, I almost forgot just how much you've always pissed me off, Dazai." 

"I'm your Boss-"

"And I'm saying as someone who used to be your partner, I hate suicidal idiots who don't think about anyone else more than anything!" His voice is hoarse. Maybe it's the wind he had to put up with on the way down. That'd count for the way his eyes are watering, too. He's not used to having to deal with high pressure wind like a normal person would, after all. "Damn it, I fucking hate you."

Dazai, damn him, tenses in Chuuya's grip, and then stills.

(Part of him remembers the way another Dazai had floated down effortlessly to the ground, Chuuya the one in his lap instead of the other way around, and it having been a soft, peaceful moment rather than the tense one full of the sound of alarms and people rushing out and surrounding them, since the Boss is on the ground, and with a single touch Chuuya's ability could be turned off, their final defence brought down.

It isn't fair, he thinks, that some other Chuuya got that, and he's stuck with this.)

"The Book," Dazai breathes out, single eye wide, "you found it - Chuuya, what did you do? What did you do?"

"Nothing!" The word rings out around them, and if Chuuya's hurt that Dazai is more concerned with the idea of anything happening to that friend of his who wasn't even his friend here, than his own life, or Chuuya's, or anyone else's in the whole damn world, then - apparently, that doesn't count for much. "I didn't write a single fucking word on a single damn page, Dazai," he says lowly, so that this time Dazai's the only one who can hear him. Dazai just stares at him, clearly not believing. "Not one."

"I... could have died, I think," Dazai says.

There's something tired about the way he says it, that makes Chuuya feel like there's a cold seeping into his bones.

"Yeah," he says, remembering all the numbers of times since they were kids that Dazai's tried and failed to die, the times when he'd floated along the river and should have drowned, when he's hung himself and added yet another rope line to his neck, thrown himself into the line of fire, off of buildings... 

Dazai'd somehow always survived, no matter that he hadn't wanted to, had always been vocally disappointed to be able to open his eyes again.

This time, though-

If only a diamond can polish a diamond, does that mean that the only thing that can destroy the Book, something that can't be damaged by fire or any other sort of ability, no matter the kind... is the Book itself?

The pages strewn across Dazai's old office, and the broken state of the self that had been crying out when he'd been inside of it, suggested that maybe they were right.

"You could've," he allowed. "But you're not gonna."

"I'm... not him," Dazai says, closing his eyes. 

"Yeah? Good. Means I don't have to get my eyes checked for throwing myself off a building for a ghost, then." He thinks about it, if the Boss had suddenly been replaced like that, and shudders.

He can't finish the thought of wondering, because the very idea of him, the way he is, being looked at - through - by a Dazai who was so much better than both of them, who knew a Chuuya who was so much better than he was, had so much more... it makes him feel like he'd almost prefer never to have known they existed, because that way he wouldn't feel like the memory of their existence was constantly judging him.

...

They both wind up taking a short trip to the A&E, somewhere they haven't been for a while just because usually, Dazai's status as Boss of the Port Mafia tends to mean he's kept safely inside the headquarters building and seen to by Port Mafia doctors, or those they trust. But with the headquarters made a complete mess of by first Atsushi and Akutagawa, and then his own descent, it's no longer as secure as it should be, and anything else would just take too much time.

Dazai's in the next room, guarded by several mafia Chuuya trusts, both to protect him from any threats, but also - after the stunt he'd pulled earlier - from himself, and for his own good. 

Chuuya's been getting updates from them and the nurses whenever anything changes. So far, Dazai seems to have sustained mostly non-lethal but inconveniencing injuries that'll put him out of commission for a while.

So when Atsushi and Kyouka come by, the men direct them into Chuuya's room instead, because Dazai's asleep, like he should be.

He doesn't miss the way the weretiger's eyes widen at the sight of him, one of the most feared mafia executives and the Boss' right hand man, covered in bandages just like the Boss, and wrapped in a hospital yukata.

"S-sir!" Atsushi bows, as if they were just in the main office (he thinks he'd tried to blow that window in, too, but the windows hadn't given, just buckled somewhat, and he winces at the thought of how much effort is going to go into repairing and replacing everything).

"Atsushi." The boy's eyes widen at the sound of his name. Then again, he probably expects to be punished, for being up there when a suicidal idiot decided to try and kill himself again.

Chuuya sighs.

"We came because- b-before, Dazai-san... he..."

"He told you to do something, and then fell off the fucking roof, didn't he?" Chuuya summarised. 

Atsushi nodded, sharply.

"Yes, sir."

"What was it?" And when neither of them answered, he tched in frustration, and pushed himself a little further upright. "Dazai's in the other room asleep and alive, currently the only one other than you guys and maybe that Akutagawa who'd know what was said up there. As an executive member, I have every right to order you to tell me what he told you to do."

Atsushi paled, and began to shake, but Chuuya couldn't find it within himself to feel too guilty, even knowing just how strong the kid had grown in any other version of events.

"Dazai-san, he... he asked us to protect something," Atsushi said, voice still shaking, seemingly rooted to the spot. Kyouka next to him didn't move a single muscle. "And - he..." his voice trailed off into almost nothing. "He told me to defect from the mafia, sir." The words were barely audible, Chuuya only just able to hear them. "He told me-"

"Then what're you still doing here?" Atsushi, cut off by his superior - former superior, it looked like - stared blankly. "He fired you, kid. And her too, right?" After all, Chuuya had seen the girl doing better elsewhere too, and if he'd seen that, then Dazai definitely would have. "Then why come back like a stray dog to the place that's kicked you out? If you're wondering what to do next since Dazai's not dead, just... do whatever you want. You don't have to do what he says anymore, if he says he's not going to take you back." Hypocrite, he thinks to himself. Dazai had basically thrown him aside, and here he was, still clutching onto the last rags of something he didn't even know was worth keeping anymore. "If the Boss himself has told you to do a thing, you do it. And since I know what what's going on," in more ways than he'd let them know about, even if he had a strong suspicion he knew what they'd been tasked with protecting, and why, "I'm not going to let anyone hunt you down for following orders."

Atsushi began to back away, first one foot, and then the other, backing away and not turning around until he was in the hall, at which point Chuuya saw him begin to run.

Kyouka takes a little longer, studying him, eyes narrowed, before she turns away, a little more confident, a little less twitchy like a spooked cat.

"Good luck, kid," he can't help saying as she leaves. "You'll both do better there."

He thinks he sees her tense at his words, but can't be sure, and then she's gone too, and all he's left with is the knowledge that a part of Dazai's soul is still in his inner jacket pocket, and a sorry sense of attachment to two kids who he barely even knows, but knows can be so much better and more alive, just like them, and he's tired, he's tired of knowing.

So he closes his eyes, and hopes that when he wakes up, Dazai will still be alive, and the world won't have ended, and that when he next looks in that jacket pocket, he won't just see a dissipating mass of ink and dust.

It's as he's just drifting off, not quite asleep and not quite awake, that the thought comes to him-

Ah, he thinks, you're just like me.

...

AN: I'll be honest, this actually started several weeks ago when I was browsing pixiv and saw someone's art of Odasaku, Akutagawa, Atsushi, Kyouka, Kenji, and Dazai all standing in the light, and it made me go, "okay, but AU where they're all able to work together. Where they're on the same side, even if they're not in the same organisations."

And that's how this happened, although the part about Dazai being the Book's squishy human form comes from my other fic "The Rest That's Still Unwritten", which is technically canon to this one and vice versa by pure simple means of "same characters, different stories" even in-universe. Originally I wasn't going to, but... it worked just too well not to, especially after a random idea-thought had Chuuya going "this book's so beat up it looks like it barely even remembers it's a book."

...Though, I'll admit that I haven't gone through more than a summary of the BEAST AU book itself, and all events depicted from it are my own understanding of them. I'm writing a fix fic because I don't really like how things happened there, y'know. It's sad and I don't like sad.

[somniatcr]

      character study series--- d.azai o.samu

where do i even begin--- dazai is possibly... probably... the most complex character within my little roster. and, like izaya  ( who i’ve already done a post like this for, which can be found here )  and the rest of my muses i suppose, my dazai is very headcanon based  ( though i do take a lot of reference from the series itself, i tend to portray him as i see fit and most enjoy doing so without sacrificing the things that i believe to be pivotal to his character );  to be entirely honest, when it comes to the manga, for bungou stray dogs and for nearly every series to ever exist, i’m not, nor do i imagine that i will ever be, entirely caught up.

all that said, let us delve into dazai; into the way that he thinks, the way that he functions, the way that he acts, and generally who is he as a person  ( as well as how i, personally, view and portray his character ).

let me first kick things off with a significant change that i’ve made in regard to his character, in how he’ll be portrayed here on this blog. dazai canonically has a deeply troubled mind. though his frequent, and oftentimes wistful, talk of death and his suicidal behaviors are rarely, if ever, taken seriously within the series itself  ( rather being treated as a source of comedic relief, which does somewhat bother me, but it is what it is ),  likely due to this penchant that he has for jesting and for over-dramatics, the reality that his mind is very dark and very deeply troubled remains. he feels as though there is this deep, dark hole  ( an emptiness, a void )  within him that he’s incapable of filling, regardless of however hard that he tries. a large majority of his life was spent dedicated to this, to trying to fill it, to trying to find some sort of reason to live  ( which is why he had initially aligned himself with the port mafia to begin with; he believed that he could, perhaps, find what he’d been searching for, what he’d been longing for, if he lived this life of conflict, of bloodshed and war ),  though, obviously, this was to no avail. and while, yes, he will at times use self-depreciating humor, and while, yes, at times his humor may be dark, a bit morbid, his depression and his suicidal thoughts, tendencies, are not rooted in comedy, they are not a source of comedic relief and i, personally, don’t write him, portray him, in that particular light.

that said, does he ultimately want to die? in his youth, yes, absolutely. he hadn’t yet met anyone that he cared for  ( he had no attachments, had never felt nor experienced any genuine form of love ).  he too no joy from life, spent all this time searching, aching, for purpose, yet couldn’t find it.

and then he met people who meant something. he met chuuya who, though he was adamant that he couldn’t stand him, was interesting. he met odasaku, who managed to break through his barriers unlike anyone before  ( or after )  him, who wormed his way into dazai’s heart and gave him this friendship that he never knew that he’d wanted, nor needed, who provided him with a much needed positive role model and with this beacon of hope. this--- this was pivotal in setting about a turning point, in finally setting him on a different path, in giving him the purpose that he’d been searching for all those years. although an irrefutable tragedy, oda’s death ultimately brought about new life in that it  ( and in oda’s dying words )  gave dazai a will to live.

all the same, he does still suffer from depression, he’s an insomniac, and he does still struggle with suicidal ideation  ( in that he still thinks about death, about dying and all of the ways that he could go about doing it, fairly often ). 

moving on,

this is a man with a very dark and violent past, an important thing to keep in mind. while little is known about his past bar from the knowledge that he was affiliated with the port mafia, that he’s been rooted within this world since he was around fourteen years old, back when he met mori ougai  ( as well as the fact that he managed to wind up being the youngest executive in port mafia history ),  it can be surmised that his time spent working beneath mori likely, at least in part, has resulted in his penchant for apathy, his tendency to emotionally detach himself from others, from death, and from traumatic experiences as a whole  ( he’s actually been shown attempting to fill that hole in his heart, in fact, to find joy, to feel something in causing harm to and in killing others, though he never quite does manage to get what he wants ).  his experience as a killer and as highly skilled interrogator  ( it’s worth noting that he, in fact, specialized in torturing others for information; he’s even once gone so far as to state that there wasn’t a single prisoner who ultimately didn’t wind up spilling everything when he was the one tasked with retrieving it--- and while still being a child ),  has been alluded to on more than one occasion and, even to this day, he still manages to command respect and to inspire fear throughout the port mafia, albeit no longer being a member himself.

he is unconcerned with the idea good and evil. while he currently affiliates himself with the armed detective agency, now working to protect  ( and to save )  the city and the lives of its inhabitants, his motivation to do so was primarily spurred by the words of a friend prior to his passing;  ’ be on the side that saves people. if both sides are the same, be a good man; save the weak and protect the orphans. neither good nor evil means much to you, i know… but that’d make you at least a little bit better. i know better than anyone because… i am your friend. ’

it’s these words, oda sakunosuke, that finally sets him on a different path, that leads him to meeting the members of the armed detective agency, that leads him to meeting nakajima atsushi, an orphan who’s life he, ultimately, does wind up making a difference in, providing him with much needed guidance  ( though to say that all of his methods, and all of his motives, in doing so are genuinely good, genuinely selfless, and always would be a little hard-pressed--- also, it’s worth keeping in mind that this is the second orphan to have been taken beneath his wing; the first being akutagawa ryunosuke who’s experiences with dazai were significantly different, the training that he endured beneath him being absolutely hellish, horrific, and cruel ).

ultimately, with him, the ends justify the means and, so, the actions, whether good or evil, mean little to him. he’s willing to use any means, any method, to achieve his goals; this includes playing dirty, causing harm to others, killing / death when deemed necessary, and so on and so forth. such as, for example, purposefully deflating the airbag in someone’s car prior to a car ‘accident’, in turn causing extensive injuries that he’s only willing to have healed by a fellow ability user in exchange for having a young girl pardoned of her past crimes. the end goal was ultimately good, sure, but the means of getting there were anything but.

he’s also an exceptional liar. while his ability to intricately weave together falsehoods, from the most small and insignificant of lies to the most complex of tales, comes naturally, his time spent working for the port mafia only honed his abilities further. and while is doesn’t lie constantly, perhaps not even frequently  ( instead opting to simply abstain from providing an answer altogether ),  he is, in himself, a walking fabrication, putting on a perennial facade all his own; fake. his true thoughts and emotions are rarely so much as even alluded to, frequently hidden behind a mask of his creation, perfectly crafted and nearly impossible to crack. furthermore, his true intentions, frequently, are left unrevealed until he, himself, chooses to reveal them. in truth, there isn’t a person alive who truly knows or who genuinely understands him. there are a select few  ( such as mori ougai, nakahara chuuya )  who come, in their own way, close through all of their time spent working with him  ( a former mentor, a former partner ),  though none are able to comprehend his actions, his mind, in their entirely, not quite the way that oda was once able to.

it doesn’t help that he is also a man of mystery and deflection. while he may talk and act as though he’s an open book  ( and believe me, he does just this and often ),  he rarely, if ever, speaks of himself, in regard to his past and present alike. thoughts are locked away, left solely for him to ruminate upon, and emotions are kept hidden, locked deep, deep within, if not attempted to be brushed away in their entirety. furthermore, he has a habit of leaving his comrades, his friends if you can quite call them that, in the dark when it comes to long-game plans and strategies that he has devised and it’s virtually impossible to get a straight or genuine answer from him upon asking a question, so most times it isn’t even worth the effort that it takes to form the words  ( not that this has ever stopped anyone from trying, much to their ultimate chagrin ).

and, finally, a basic character and personality breakdown,

name.  DAZAI OSAMU, 太宰治 age / d.o.b.  22 / JUNE 19 species.  HUMAN / GIFTED ethnicity.  JAPANESE gender.  CIS-MALE, HE / HIM occupation.  DETECTIVE / PORT MAFIA EXECUTIVE  ( FORMER ) affiliation.  ARMED DETECTIVE AGENCY / PORT MAFIA  ( FORMER ) height.  181 CM / 5'11" weight.  67 KG / 147-148 LBS build.  SLIM, LONG-LIMBED hair color.  DEEP BROWN, ESPRESSO; MILD, NATURAL WAVES eye color.  RED-BROWN, CHESTNUT blood type.  AB r / o, s / o.  DEMIROMANTIC PANSEXUAL noticeable features.  WEARS BANDAGES THAT COVER THE LARGE MAJORITY OF HIS BODY  ( * explanation to be provided below );  ONLY HIS FACE, HANDS, AND FEET REMAIN UNCOVERED

ability.  NO LONGER HUMAN      **  his ability allows him to effectively nullify the abilities of others entirely upon contact, whether with the user themselves or a physical manifestation of their ability. he’s often referred to as an anti-ability user or anti-gifted. zodiac.  GEMINI religious belief(s).  ATHEIST mbti.  INTJ alignment.  CHAOTIC NEUTRAL temperament.  CHOLERIC mental health.  DEPRESSION, SUICIDAL IDEATION pos traits.  QUICK THINKER, SHARP, IMAGINATIVE, CLEVER, STRATEGIC, DECISIVE, SELF-CONFIDENT, INDEPENDENT, DETERMINED, OBSERVANT, PERCEPTIVE, CALM, COLLECTED, LOGICAL, OPEN-MINDED, QUICK LEARNER, ADAPTABLE, WELL-READ, A JACK OF ALL TRADES neg traits.  SECRETIVE, DETACHED, JUDGEMENTAL, ARROGANT, OVERLY DRAMATIC, UNPREDICTABLE, CONFUSING / DIFFICULT TO UNDERSTAND, CAN BE OVERLY ANALYTICAL, HAS DIFFICULTY WITH  ( AND LOATHES )  HIGHLY STRUCTURED ENVIRONMENTS, PRONE TO APATHY, PLAYS DIRTY, CAN BE CRUEL, FREQUENTLY INGENUINE neu traits.  WITTY, TEASING / JESTING, BLUNT, SOMEWHAT OF A FLIRT, PRONE TO SHIRKING CERTAIN RESPONSIBILITIES, HAS A HABIT OF EMBARRASSING OTHERS  ( VERY INTENTIONALLY )

he covers himself in bandages for two very specific reasons. the first being that his body is absolutely riddled with scars; while some were obtained during his port mafia days, equally as many were self-inflicted. the second, they serve as a sort of security blanket, providing him with an unconventional source of comfort.

he’s very well read. he enjoys novels of a wide variety, though he’s usually only seen reading books about suicide or death. he isn’t partial to poetry, however.

he isn’t a big eater whatsoever. he’s generally a one meal per day sort of person and doesn’t snack particularly often furthermore.

he listens to music fairly often during his free time  ( when he isn’t reading ).  while he doesn’t have much of a preference as far as genres are concerned, he does gravitate primarily toward music that he finds calming, more mellow, or relatable.

he’s highly skilled in the art of lock-picking. he could chalk it up to his time spent with the port mafia, but in truth it’s a talent he’s had since he was a kid.

he doesn’t have a drivers license. he’s never been especially concerned with getting himself one and doesn’t really find that he feels the need for one even now.

he dislikes fizzy and / or bubbly beverages. for the most part, he’s a tea or a coffee drinker, although he’s fine with water, too. also, whiskey. he loves a good whiskey.

he enjoys good company  ( although he finds that it’s rare to come by ),  good and meaningful conversation, summer storms, late night rain showers, autumn leaves, seafood, and fresh, clean scents.

he dislikes overly sweet foods, the sound of babies crying  ( and loud noises in general ),  dogs, hot weather, and boring, tedious, and / or repetitive work  ( such as paperwork, for example ).

he frequently smells of soap, laundry detergent, and cotton intermingled with a natural scent all his own; fresh, warm, and clean with a hint of musk.

[abripikuunah]

The Setting Sun

Pairing: Odazai (Oda Sakunosuke x Dazai Osamu) || Word Count: 2886 || Rating: Mature (Suicidal Thoughts)

Ao3

A/N :Finally this baby is done and I can finally rest in peace! BEAST was asking for it so here you go guys- MORE ANGST.But in all seriousness, I wanted to write for a long time after not writing for almost a year and BEAST came and when I saw Harukawa's illustrations, I knew I have to write BEAST!Dazai's character and express it with words. So I try to put myself in his shoes while writing his thoughts about Oda. I planned it to be simple 1500k words but my brain love giving myself pain so I ended up with 2500 more. Needless to say,it was painful af :/.Also there isn't a full translation yet so I might be incorrect with some actions and the setting if there is a full translation. The Setting Sun effect was inspired in the BEAST cover.

A possible illustration will show up in my twitter @AbriPikuuhnah (tumblr too prob) so stay tune for that I guess. But rn my eyes need rest so yep.

Comments and Criticism is very much appreciated and I want to here your thoughts! I hope you have enjoyed this fic <3.

Summary: Today is the fated day where Dazai will witness the last moments of his life. He did it, he made sure that this world won't be swept away in their existence, that everyone would get the ending they deserve. Especially his dear friend that would be able to finally live and write the novel in his dreams.He already talked to Odasaku for the first and last time but after saying all those selfish things, what more does he possibly want?

No matter…

The setting sun would be his audience and partner to execute the finale of the play.It was afternoon and the sun is about to set.

There's a sound of clapping followed by footsteps that could be heard and are now marching closer. The two men that were just fighting momentarily ago are now staring at the man clad in black, with the exception of the red scarf hanging from his neck. He continued to walk, but halted as he proceeded to tell the people in the roof about his plans, making no time to waste.

He then introduced them to the book who birthed them all into life. The book that granted his wishes into a reality. The book that allowed those black broken wings to sprout once more and grow more corrupted than before. A book where he held a pen of revolution to let his bloodied selfish heart write in it.

He told both Atsushi and Akutagawa the importance of the book and why it must be protected. That nobody else should touch it and nothing should be written in ‘it’.

‘Because this world would be destroyed.’

He then appointed the two young men to secure the book at all cost, therefore not giving them a chance to choose. But he knew they both value their own lives and did not wish to be erased from existence, that, he could let his manipulative mind to use.  After his proposal , he gave the book to his subordinate, Atsushi, whose eyes were disquieted in fear. The superior gave him a smile of assurance to the young boy, providing a cold comfort before walking towards the edge.

"D-Dazai-san." Atsushi mutters, a hand reaching out, "It's dangerous over there. Please step away from the-",  but before he could finish his sentence, the boss tilt his head slightly to hint a small curve tugged in the corner of his lips, eyes still hollow as ever.

"Atsushi-kun.” he calls, and stops momentarily before directly meeting his gaze, serious , breathed an heavy weight in it’s depressing color. “Don't tell anyone about the book. Not even Kyouka-chan."

Before Atsushi had the chance to open his mouth and ask the obvious question, he was interrupted again. A sigh expels out of his superior’s lips followed by a warning they both needed to heed.

"If there are three people that have the knowledge of this books true existence, the world itself would cease to exist." he admits and let those words echoes back, giving Atsushi the full message, and he knew what they mean very well. Without saying a word, he restrained himself from grabbing his boss from the dangerous edge.

The boss turned his face towards the city he owns. He’s looking towards the world his dirted hands created. The world he built and worked hard for, sacrificed almost, no, everything from his previous self for its sake.

Two pairs of eyes trailed behind him. While Dazai knew Akutagawa had no plans to save him, Atsushi’s eyes are in pain, as they were only able to watch his superior started walking closer to death's door. Dazai’s body swayed while going towards the edge, the taps of his steps though, is deafening. As he felt the sun beckoning him closer. He also felt that the world seems to stop. Everything went into a slow painstakingly motion and only his rapid thoughts dances around mercilessly.

He still revels into it nonetheless.

The wind seems to only have the freedom to move solemnly as it caressed his exposed skin. He doesn't want to wait if he has a choice, he is impatient and death is already welcoming him . He wanted to asked the damn gods why not just let him fall off and perish already to finally burst down these emotions that has been bottling up his chest in the cold ground like asphalt.

But he doesn't complain.

Dazai… does admires the sight showing its behold . The dusk reminds him the reason why he did all of this in the first place, why this cruel and unfair yet giving world existed and hoped that it perpetually keep moving on its wake.

"Odasaku!"

A voice laughs in the back of Dazai's mind.

"Are you admiring the setting sun again?"

‘Ah, again’ he thought.

His constant habit of reminiscing starts once more.

It was like this time again, where the two of them are at the docks, wandering aimlessly where they let their conversations and idle topics leads them to wherever place they ended up to, not caring about the society in a whole. Somehow, along the way , they landed in the pier, where they were just in time to witness sundown.They watched while admiring it as it slowly started to sink deep into the ocean.

"It is beautiful is it not?" He hums, looking at the older man next to him expectantly.

“It is.” Oda simply replied, nothing more, nothing less.

But regretfully now,  Dazai knew that there’s more deep inside his thoughts. He knew that there’s a reserved blank canvas of Oda’s mind, a place for him paint the sunset with words, carefully crafted words and would make the downfall of the day more alluring than Dazai could comprehend.

Dazai couldn't keep count over how many days had passed since he last saw Odasaku’s warm gaze comfort him. It has been so long that it became nothing more but a distant memory that is just close to his depths of his scarred heart.

His sight is completely set on the scarlet sky, appreciating the way how the setting sun bids goodbye to him. He still wonders until today what kind of words are blooming in his mind. Odasaku never said he wanted to become a writer, until everything was too late. But Dazai remembered clearly when he started to think what does he write inside of his sentimental thoughts.

‘They're surely beautiful.’

And Dazai doesn’t feel anything else but to agree.

His rusty eyes are now transfixed to its changing hues of reds and purples of the late afternoon sky that are followed by the darkness of the night.

If you ask Dazai, however, of how he would describe the dusk , it would depend on which type of person he’s with. Like the series of masks he has, he will give you a different answer as well.

But if you honestly want to see the true answer that's been etched deep inside of him,  it would've been…

“It looks a lot like you, Odasaku.” He says offhandedly.

Oda looked at him, like his word popped him out of his bubble.

Wide eyes stared at the young executive while the said man kept his gaze and purposely not looking at the red head, or else he might falter to let out a laugh. But the taller,  blinks, “I see.” he breathed out and let themselves basked in the welcoming sounds of the crashing waves and watched the crepuscule.

“I mean it by the way. “ he muttered out.

And he truly does .

Dazai can fathom a lot of reasons why, from the obvious one of how the shades of red surrounded the sun that could easily be compared to his paprika hair . How the sunset flares also reminds him of Oda’s eyes that glows with a determined passion to provide and show the light.

To Dazai, he is his light, his sun. The one who provides warmth of the day and shows the beauty and grace of the never ending sky from dusk and dawn.

But the setting sun seems to fit him the best.

Not because of Oda’s features, for he just said that he is the sun himself. He realizes that it's mainly because even the time of the sunset is limited itself. As long the sun doesn’t drown deeper in the horizon, it’s your last chance to for you to be leaded back home before the shadows covers your way and be swallowed by the night.

In his previous lives, that’s exactly what happened. Before he was consumed by the abyss of hell, Oda came and became his sunset. His last chance to leave the darkness and live towards the life filled with a bittersweet light. And he took it willingly.

Now however, he doesn’t reach for it.

He strays away. Away so there won’t be any sunset to fill the hollow sky or to witness it slowly goes away again and again in his eyes. There won't be a sun to provide a day and afternoon but only a haunted starless night will be present in this life. His lip quirked into a frown before moving his eyes away from the setting sun and drifted his field of vision to the farthest surface of the earth his eyes could reach instead.

God, he keeps thinking about him too much. It hurts, it hurts too bad to miss him terribly, terribly so and the setting sun doesn’t do anything to help. His fist clenches, he then look towards the gap and finds the lonesome ground waiting for him.

Every recollection he has of them that he yearned very terribly started to plague him mind. It must be because he already decided, that this would be the fated day he would die. Death that he mourned for so many year is finally within arms reach. Maybe that's why the his world decided to drag time and let Dazai bask himself with these painful memories.

It's doesn't sound wrong.

He knows that his world thrives on schadenfreude towards it and manipulates his own corrupted being.  But he let's it, he let's this sadistic life of his toy with the masochistic devil inside of him like a puppet once more. But ironically,  he hates pain. He hates these abrasions that are gripping his insides torturously that he desperate wished that he had a knife for to stab himself to be relieved from the agony.

But he still continues. He willingly delves deeper in a past that would never be reversed by his own hands despite the power he has.  And he relives them, no matter how it make him feel like throwing up, he relives to them, even if it breaks him slowly . He relives them,  because in the clarity of its cruelty , beside it was beauty and color.

And it was addicting.

The phenomenon light rays scatter, bursting beautiful shades out of the scarlet sky.  Oda did just that in Dazai's own monochromatic life. In the midst of death and violence, the quiet comfort,  futile conversation they had at Lupin was enough to tint his sights to see the colors in his life. Sure it doesn't satisfy the lonely hole he has, nothing will ever will, but it doesn't also mean he won't value the things they did. He had something for him to hold on into and let these selfish desires have a purpose. This last moment of his, how he's constantly thinking of him proves that alone.

He believes that it made him human .

“So Odasaku, how was your job?”

“How are you holding up, Odasaku?”

“ Odasaku are you alright?”

“Odasaku-”

Odasaku, Odasaku ,Odasaku-

As his voices started compiling in his mind, filling it like replacing the oxygen in his body, the overwhelming asphyxiation invading his sense. His thoughts kept chanting his name like a mad prayer.

“Why are you so obsessed protecting this world?” Akutagawa's voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

Why?

Dazai kept himself from scoffing bitterly,

The answer is simple.

“This is the only world where he reads and writes a novel.”

The last ray of sunlight is about to came into close. He has to go soon and join the beautiful sun to drown themselves in the shadows of Yokohama. City lights however, are coming, not letting the shadows around Yokohama conquer every structures. It's a bit poetic really. Atsushi and Akutagawa are the world's new light, they would protect the book and will ensure it's safety.

But the tall building of the dark Port Mafia’s shadows is enough to consume him whole and take his sins and finally be punished.

Come and think about it,

It was afternoon and the sun is about to set at that fateful day .

He unconsciously brought himself back at the time where he held Odasaku’s dying body in his arms. The last glow of his skin that was seeping away life along with his warmth. The moment where Odasaku gave out his last breath and told him things that let Dazai walk towards the path of light.

‘Save the weak, and protect the orphans.’

Dazai turns around and faces the two once more. He could feel the heat wrapping around his body. It feels too nostalgic as the warmth that lingers in the corners of his body, as if tantalizing it to be Odasaku’s warmth that he will never experience again and will yearn forever in the eternity of the ice piercing death.

He lets out a shaky laugh.

He first looks at the detective. Despite being used to see him clothed in black, Dazai couldn't help but admit that the lighter colors suited Akutagawa well . It felt like the weight has been carried in his shoulders are lesser and more breathable than his other selves have.Odasaku really did patiently teach him as there's a light that are now reflected in his eyes.

He then looks at Atsushi.  He can't deny the fact that he did hurt him with his manipulative tendencies,  in fact it did worsen the undeserving broken boy at all. But it was for the sake of this world. He cannot apologize. After all, in the end, he guaranteed that Atsushi would be bathed in the light once more just like his other selves were and probably a little bit more better.

He cannot justify himself for the despicable crimes he committed in this timeline. But in the end, just like he said,  he will take all of these sins with him and purge them in the deserving punishment they would receive.

No one would forget his crimes, but they will all move on to a better rail.

Atleast, he could say that he still fulfilled the oath he vowed that day,  just in his own twisted way.

The only thing that's changed was that he fixed the fate and let the true deserving person to die in front of the setting sun.

‘Me’

Unlike him , the one who truly values human life and settled his heart in the right place will continue on living . The world where Odasaku is living in the light and will shine others paths in the right direction and claim his well worth legacy.

Even the Agency and to the others he has somewhat cared for…

Will at least be happy or content, even without him.

“I can't let a world like that disappear.” he finally says as he let's the last chapter of his life come into close.

Maybe the agency and the others who knew him in the previous life will mock him at how stupid he is.

That's fine.

Maybe the other Odasaku's in the different worlds would be disappointed at him…

…

The wind strengthen and his body felt light and was tilted towards the back as he was pushed and fell.

“This is it,” He mutters as the adrenaline in his body pumped faster by each matter of second, “The moment I've been waiting for. I looked forward to it, truly…” And he smiles with closing those tired eyes and expel every burnt out emotions.

Like that, peace was glazed in his face.

And like that, he finds a dream inside those lids.

“I only have one regret.” He unconsciously says.

In a soundless dream, he sees Odasaku inside of a kitchen, holding a pen, a manuscript resting in his table. He wonders what type of novels he will write? Then it dawned on him,

“I can't read the novel he would one day complete.” He breathed out as he can hear the rushing wind kept chanting for death.

It truly is a shame, “I… I regret that a little now.” He says as he kept picturing Odasaku writing the novel he longs to tell. The light has faded,  the world was gone, Dazai numbed his senses as he stopped caring about anything anymore.

Except him .

He can see it but not perfectly, as his face was blurred out in his imagination.

What would Odasaku expression be? Would he be confused? Tired? Was there a smile curved in his lips? Are his soft eyes glowing with thoughts as he will write down to convey a story into life?

Before he met total darkness, he wants to imagine and see Odasaku's face one last time.

He wants to open his eyes once more to look at the setting sun that resembles a man name Oda Sakaunosuke .

He took a deep breath.

.

.

.

But when he open his eyes it all went black.

[kaylichun]

Inspiration/ King Arthur Legends, Moon Princess, legend of Zelda, Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms, Black Butler

The True Goddess- The Fallen Goddess.

Kay grants wishes and luck within the world, while Kai contains the darkest in wishes. Kept the hidden from the light of the world’s hope. But there’s always the middle grounds, Father of Gods themselves Quinn. He is the balance of the middle grounds of realm, wise in watching over with his godly children. He had fallen in love with a mortal women by the name of Meryl and died with her by heartbreak. His depression of his fawned love. He separated and passed onto the world his life near the grave of his only wife. The descendants of his 5 children became the beacons of what became gifts of many traits of men and magic. One over will and might, one over animals to be able to tame or become authentic animal/ shifter within, powers of nature the overgrowth of plants and trees through healing, knowledge by the books; elemental sorts of magic, and last the dark arts symbolism of death.

Kay and Kai, along their vital follower, Sōseki. The servant blessed by her to watch alongside her and keep her company. The day saw misery of the two couples, so she fell off and mortalized into another life a human birth with an infertile mother, who saw it as a blessing. Named the vessel Kay, after the said goddess. Her blessed form prefaced within the mortal, as it attracted the many eyes. She was the first blessing of the true Oracle. Foretold many fates tied and needed in the future. She settled off to seek them.

There was the calico cat who followed close to the Oracle. Small and speckled in brown and yellow eyes. He was insistent in following her, so she has taken care of the creature. She needed to find her reason being entrapped in this form. She had searched for the man she needed to complete the prophesied. Fukuzawa Yukichi will be king of the Full Moon. The Moon was a Lunar symbol to the Goddess. He denied any interaction with the Oracle, as spoke the future of the home of his. Corrupted by the calamity that will befall upon them, as their King is Dying and the Kingdom of the sun will take the chance to seize dictatorship over them. In which, he agreed after realizing the prophecy is an unwilling risk he’ll take.

On their journey to the kingdom of the sun, Mori Ogai a healer and talents of the dark arts. The dark arts were frowned upon, the man begged to be set along the journey to prove his worth. Their Party grew, Yosano Akiko a child gifted with life, but blinded by death, and Ranpo Edogawa blessed by Life. Illusioned his luck and intelligence to be a Seer himself. Their bonds grew, even if Yukichi wanted nothing do with it. He fell for their Oracle, as Mori matched his moves.

After the war had ended, so did the oracle’s journey. She died within the eyes of the king Wolf and his fellow allies. Mourning the lost of the voice, her body set to the lake within the forest, who then became the deity of Tranquility. Kouyou The Mother of Tranquility.

Mother had stayed within the forest, as she was seen by a child enraptured by the God of Calamity. The child however was bitter after his exile from his birth, he was a child bawling his eyes, the young youth had seen no purpose in his life. A whole village decimated by the monster within himself. An elven child had lost all rights to heaven. Only to feel warmth of Mother. Mother had a pacifying effect over the hatred. He stayed by mother and mother let him in her arms.

Mother had chose to protect the location of the Summoning temple, in which she must give her freedom to the cult. The Cult of the man who had been mourned with his daughter the closest thing to the women he loved. He had kept part of her before her body was set to sink into the lake. That created his obsession of “their” daughter Elise. The man would not let go. It was unfair to him, as he slain the mad king of the country of Portima, The Crescent Crest.

Chuuya Nakahara was the village’s small cult by few worshipper of the god of calamity, Arabahaki. They live for centuries while maintaining their youthful appearance, dark elves with their feature of long sharp ears. They are the storytellers of endless times, the archives of history. Segregated by their nature of rumors as dark elves; fictional creatures. During the reign of the sun dictator’s reign, asked for their offering of their alignance by marrying one of their women to cultivate the ultimate heir. A rebellious orphan, he was seen and only one to escape with the tragedy befallen him. Given at least one day to finalize their thoughts, they went to work to their God in hopes to save themselves. They had to give up a child to leave behind; Chuuya Nakahara. Invested him to take in as the host for their god to disappear once again. Leaving him alone again.

The outside country had fooled the young child and left him within the barrier of their mage setted up. A sacrifice of an sick and scrawny, they did it in return if retribution to the goddess. Atsushi was forced to be appointed the counter guardian by the Goddess, as his appointed role of the goddess temple protecting the resting place of hers. As it was made under her name and she blessed it. However pitted the young child and gave it a holy form. What the mortals irresponsible actions did not speak for the goddess. So she accompanied him within his slumber. Her warmth has protected him, till his forgotten centuries and one day he is needed.

Kyoka Izumi, was the Heir of the imperial princess of snow and the warlord sun. Her mother was intended to be arranged to keep the two allied. The man was a feared by many who crossed his path, instilling his power over her and her mother. She lived to fear her ancestors who follow binded by spirit to protect her. In fact the grandmother; the imperial mother. Each generation must bond with an ancestral spirit, her abilities alongside summoning.

Saint Oda Sakunosuke was gifted sight as a Seer. An Oracle is both equal to 2 seers. If he were a Seer someone else must have the same gift as he did. One thing he cannot see is how he truly ends, but only prevent minimum events. He saughted out children during the wreckage, housing them within his own church. In which he was promised protection if he did them favors. Predictions and small travel trading. He had befriended a spy Ango Sakaguchi and a man who called himself Merlin. Who trusted him with his true name Osamu Dazai. He knew to be weary around Ango, but his emotions got the best of him as he died by the other Seer. But within sacrificing of the seers was for the cause between the CULTure of Portima and the Government of the Rising Sun. Mori true purpose was to get an Oracle after two Seers dying in the same temple. Oda, his children were with him, his Goddess let him live happily with them, after

Dazai Osamu, did not trust many, after his mother left him alone after a night with a mortal mage. His Father died after that night, he was left to wear his father’s place.His mother was a beautiful succubus, who had charmed and left her son to pass on for eternity. He wouldn’t even die if anything tries, as her son taken suicidal tendencies after the father who purposely summoned his mother. Maybe it was because he aligns to light magic, purification or nullification . To die with a beautiful woman any day. Joined the cult, after being welcomed by Mori for the heck of it, felt more comfortable with Saint Odasaku. Only to be more driven to death after his human emotions affecting him deeper into depression and granting a wish/promise of the Seer. Leaving the cult to journey to the kingdom of Portima.

Ango Sakaguchi, was the double knot spy in the ranks of the government and the mafia during the dragonhead.

Tanizaki Junichirou was fated to be king of his own kingdom, that was when his Sister Naomi first prophesied his fate. They were born from the sun district, after the warlord of sun was overthrown by the villagers of the oppression.

The Central city of the rising Sun was not trusted, in which the King of Ardect; Fukuzawa Yukichi had once knew the first Oracle. He knew the Importance of the Oracle second coming, seeing that the past 2 seers set against each other. He had high suspicions of what Mori had done, in which he swiftly taken them hidden into arms of his court. He truly did become king, as Fate predicted. His shoulders weighed by the royal cloak of the past king’s spirit by his throne. He was truly lucky to have Kunikida as his scholar and his second in command. Yosano who lead battle and saved many before death. Their Wise tactician blessed by the god themselves, Ranpo Edogawa. Kenji was the representation of the friendship of the villagers of a small village, blessed highly for their youthism and strength. Junichirou was a King and Knight in training. Their purpose in hidden objective to protect both the blessing and eyes of the gods; Ranpo and Naomi.

Naomi Tanizaki was the Village Girl who danced for her passion. She was dedicated to her king; both Fukuzawa and Junichirou. Her own personification of a clingy sister to derail many to expect her to be holy Oracle. Her truth is how serious she becomes, she is wise as how she learns to change how she acts around people. She defined as a childish, bold and bright. But really, she guilty even if her brother shakes off her reasonable actions. It was the only way to not be suspected as one. After all Mori's cultivated obsession to the gods.

Kyūsaku Yumeno the prince who destroyed his own kingdom by the curse borned Q crippled his name. A prince hated by his small country. Why his mother died because of his birth prematurely. But he shared the face the king loved from his wife. He could not help decide how he felt about his only son and heir to the throne. Whether he hated him for what he was out of his control of the past or loved him for the current result of the love between his wife. He remained ignorant to the abuse and hatred of people even the staff. The boy however broken out of his broken shell to lose sense of mind. Tormented back every person with his curse, paying back what they did to him dying in pain. The last one to die was his father, he did not do anything to stop or tried to prevent the whole event to ever exist. Here all he had to do was hurt him to die for his penitence of his ignorance. He teared up, his curse did not kill his father. His father had died from a broken heart because he loved him. Leaving the prince to cry in the place of his own father “Why didn't you hit me, hurt me, yell at me and bruise me?! Why did you make me hurt in such a way!?!” Portima picked him up, grew the territory of their land.

The Akutugawa Siblings. Loving family and children blessed with a noble family. The oldest son Ryuusuke, loved his sister Gin. Gin was named after an adoptive peasant mother who was well loved for the father who was the orphan taken in by her. Ryuusuke was born sick, His lungs struggling with asthma, his respiratory failure thankfully for His father being able to get a doctor to help. Only to be prescribed doses of medication 2 times a day. Which made Gin the first to the name to the company, yet they're both able to share the title. Ryuunosuke will always be the spare to Gin. Yet happiness still born in their hearts. His father owns his success and struggle rising to his name. He saw where he stood and stranded with wealth, a childhood for his children. Jealousy ensued by other noble who saw nothing but filthy peasant with money. Waiting for their maid to give Ryuusuke his dose of medication before they both went to sleep. Their family dog Russell barking at the door, until a man in black swung at with force. You could insinuate the dog's skull was cracked from such brute force. Snatched Ryuusuke, they knew well that he couldn't go against him and struggle. His illness was his weakness, he tire easily from exercise. Which was why he relied on his magic orb tied at his hip when he needed things. Gin was the stronger and healthier one tries to take him away from the man. Only to be knocked out and over by the column of the bed. She was taken as well. So that night, the scent of ash and warm of the fire burning the manor. Ryuusuke watched as their parents burned down with the manor. He had seen dead eyes of children, their life sucked from their own leaving him with no one to even speak to him. He felt the cold prick of human contact of magic snapping him from consciousness. He found himself chained to an alter, fear bulging from eyes from the crowd of strange dark cloaks and masks. Their pupils dilating with insanity, you couldn't count how many sacrificial knives. Polished and the gleam from the candle lights from the dimming candelabra. They were speaking Latin, strange proverbs of words. The leader rose his knife over their heads with both hands and roughly jabbed into his heart. He SCREAMED! The first time he screamed, his lungs never gave out, as his air was fear and pain. Blood, Blood, BLOOD!

A demon did come to His table, he made his contract before the selfish did stole away his life. His monstrous power was called Rashōmon.

Gin was not there where Ryuusuke woken to become a corruption of a vessel to a demon dog. Who ate and swallowed him whole from his heart and soul. He made a deal to seek revenge, power and find his sister. Gin was shipped into slavery, she could have become a slave if a pirate hadn't raided the ship she was on and took away their merchandise.The Black Lizards; Ryūrō Hirotsu the captain of the ship. He had taken in the child, taught her how to live and become how she will become. A commander and assassin for the black lizard.

Higuchi Ichiyou. A spoiled brat, compared to her reliable younger sister who was closer to being chosen for her coronation instead of her. Selfish as she may be and a father who knew what was best. As their father chose to be peaceful and small nation. During the true mad king of Portima demanded the decimation and won. They had no choice but to join the Portima. Higuchi finally stood up to be responsible older sister. She cut her beloved hair and took up archery. She may have fallen for Ryunosuke Akutagawa.

[pinkgirl94]

SOKOKU -Underworld’s Nightmare- Prologue

This is my first BSD fanfic & still writing right now. Please give me your impressions, opinions or whatever about my writing. I’ll be glad to read them. Enjoy reading!

Sokoku

In Japanese, it means Double Black. For what I know, it is a duo formed for annihilating people with no self-pity, filled with black hearts.

Black is a symbol of evil, blindness, mystery, death, sins and other meanings I can find especially in literature.

In Bungo Stray Dogs, black and white are the color representatives that stand out to me throughout the story. Yokohama, a port city in Kanagawa prefecture, where the story is set.

During the day, when the sun rises above and lights the world, people come out of their house and start their own tasks like a colony of ants come out of their nest and do their duty.

Students attend to their school and study, company men and women went to their office to report their duties, shops, cafes and other places open for business, and vehicles drive on the road.

The city is just like a normal one, like any other places in my view but behind it there is a dark side when the sun goes down and a gloomy but aesthetic full moon shows up. At night, many criminals crawl out from the shadow to pursue their sins of crimes.

There are some groups which have a few special ability users like the Port Mafia. Those group of ability users are the kind of people to control and terminate the people who will get in their way. They are dangerous people but not all of them are that kind.

Because of these crime activities, the government already made a department, known as Special Ability Department, that specializes in monitoring the ability users in the whole nation, even foreign ability users who will come to visit. The department also has ability users for handling the cases regarding that matter.

Other than a government department, there are also a few other organizations which also have ability users to use their ability for good especially solving crimes that normal detectives and the police cannot do such as Armed Detective Agency.

In Yokohama, the government, along with military police, handle the cases at day. At night, the criminal organizations take over the city.

The city is always in the midst of war between special ability organizations. In order to reach the balance and peace of the city, a certain person named Natsume Soseki made his plan by, as a start, created a duo. A strong but dangerous duo.

Fukuzawa and Mori

At first, both of them never knew nor met each other before. Fukuzawa Yukichi used to work at the government as a bodyguard. He was a lone wolf who never wanted to work with anyone until he met a young boy named Edogawa Ranpo.

Mori Ogai was an underground doctor who, had his own clinic, worked in the slum where poor and street rats stay. He always bring a doll-like little girl named Elise to his office and spoils her all the time and always by her side.

How did they met?

Twelve years before an establishment of Armed Detective Agency, Natsume gave Fukuzawa a request for protecting Mori. No clear answer why he gave that kind of request but, in order to establish his agency, he accepted it and met him at his clinic for the first time.

They seemed to be never clicked each other. For example, Mori acted indifferent toward Fukuzawa about his fighting skills will become dull and Fukuzawa felt annoying on that. But once in a blue moon, when they faced their enemies, the two of them finished them off like a tornado destroy everything in a flash.

At one night, Mori captured by the foreign criminal gang from South America. The gang captured him because he was an information broker so they will require his knowledge of Port Mafia’s armory location by torturing him. Fukuzawa then came to their hideout and save Mori.

It was impossible for a man get through tight security filled with armed men but, for Fukuzawa, he killed them all easily. After that, it was Mori’s turn to kill other men in the same room as him.

Fukuzawa uses his katana to kill the enemies and Mori hiding his bloodlust to trick them until he took out his scalpel to either slice or throw at their throat. Both of them are the unstoppable that even the top assassins cannot lift his finger to stop them.

This is how the first generation of Double Black, Fukuzawa and Mori, formed by Natsume. As a writer, I will write the continue tale of them in the first chapter, about finding the true purpose of their fighting alongside together before they become the leaders of their respective organizations.

Dazai and Chuuya

They were the second generation of Double Black under Mori’s care but worked for Port Mafia. These two were not much different when in comes to fight together but, in terms of strategy and fighting style, they were much crueler than Fukuzawa and Mori.

One is a man in mummy-like bandage around his body who showed his inner demon himself and the other is a great fighter with his incredible gravity control ability. All people of the underworld knew them as the worst enemies they have ever encountered.

At the age of fourteen, Dazai picked up by Mori as a patient for attempting suicide. He always a type of person who continuously attempts his suicides but failed many times, always got himself hurt whether by those attempts or by accidents. Mori then brought Dazai along as a witness for his assassination plan.

To kill Port Mafia's predecessor.

Mori told Dazai a cover story and so that he became a new boss of his organization as his own. He kept him safe and alive in order to avoid the suspicious of the predecessor's assassination. To gain the whole organization's trust toward him.

One year passed.

Ever since Mori became a boss, rumors about him assassinated the predecessor spread around the Port Mafia. He even heard a rumor about the predecessor, who supposedly dead and properly buried, was alive and caused ruckus in their turf. If anyone learn about his assassination plan, then his position as a boss will be lost.

So Mori leave the investigation of predecessor to Dazai and, during his investigation, that is how he met a young boy as the same age as him, Nakahara Chuya, previously knew as King of the Sheep.

Chuuya is a natural fighter who only uses his legs to brutally kick his opponents like how he kicked Dazai when they first met. He never use his hands to fight until now. He also possess a special ability to manipulate gravity around him and his enemies will be crushed suffocating by touching him even the slightest hit.

When Chuya captured by Dazai, thanked to his ability-nullification ability, and Hirotsu, another ability user and the person who tag along for the investigation, Mori decided to let Dazai and Chuuya to investigate together.

Both Dazai and Chuuya disagreed together at first but Mori explained that things will work well by working together, with Dazai’s nullification and Chuuya’s fighting skills and ability, so they ended up investigate together. All that time, they always arguing and fighting each other like the small brats fighting over the small problems.

Throughout their investigation, they confirmed that the predecessor was not actually alive but it was a being called Arahabaki, known as a god of calamity, that can shape-shifting its body controlled by another ability user. Chuuya revealed himself that Arahabaki they saw was not a real one but actually himself because of his past.

Chuuya’s past is not a happy memory not because he was abused or tortured by someone nor started a harsh life like any characters you have seen in other stories who met their unfortunate fate. He was an empty shell, mere human body.

Eight, years ago, Chuuya was born as a vessel to Arahabaki and sealed away by the Japanese military. One day, two men, Arthur Rimbaud and Paul Verlaine, infiltrated the military base to take Arahabaki’s power but failed because Arahabaki was fully freed.

Arahabaki now merged with Chuuya and made his own personality and will but they lost their memories before the age of seven. Chuuya only recalled someone reached out to his hand and freed him from the seal.

Dazai and Chuuya found who controlled Arahabaki. It was Rando, a Port Mafia executive and his real name is Arthur Rimbaud, with his ability called “Illumination” that conjure hyperspace subregion. He joined Port Mafia in order to find Chuuya and kill him but failed to do so because Dazai and Chuuya defeated him in the end.

On Rando’s final breath, he gave Chuuya his final wish which is to keep living as a human being. Chuuya accepted his wish and still keeping onto him after that.

One month later.

Dazai finally became a mafioso and executive and made his own squadron. Chuuya also became a mafioso and even received Rando’s hat from Mori as a custom way of officially joining by giving a piece of clothing.

For the sake of continuing the event of their tale, I am going to write a chapter about an event when they fight against an enemy organization and made a debut as Sokoku which you never seen or read in the original work.

Atsushi and Akutagawa

Atsushi is an orphan and main protagonist of the series. At first, he had a low self-esteem, always considered himself useless by the people from his former orphanage especially the headmaster himself. After Dazai pick him up from the riverside while he was in a state of starvation, he recommended him to join the Armed Detective Agency and his life changed after meeting new people and slowly gain his self-worth.

Akutagawa is one of the antagonists and a member of the Port Mafia. He calls himself as Port Mafia’s dog and the agency members refer him as the most troublesome and dangerous ability user to be captured. Like Atsushi, he is an orphan along with his younger sister, Gin. They were raised in the slums of the city with other orphans. After the orphans were shot dead by a group of criminals and only him and her sister survived, Dazai picked them up, giving him a reason to live, to become stronger and get a praise from his teacher.

Their first meeting started with a bounty. The Port Mafia received an info from the Guild, a North America special ability organization, about a weretiger that needed to be captured with a big reward and that weretiger is Atsushi. They attempted to capture him a few times but Atsushi still be saved and protected by the detective agency.

In the last resort, Akutagawa successfully captured Atsushi and ready to deliver but Kyoka, a former assassin who became a detective agency member, tried to save him. Seeing her self-sacrifice for him in Atsushi’s eyes made him to save her and fight Akutagawa. That is when he finally begin gaining his self-confidence.

Both Atsushi and Akutagawa are always fighting in both physical and oral for their different resolve. Atsushi, who sacrifices himself to gain his right to live, and Akutagawa, who seeks an approve from a certain person, are likely same to gain something but different in terms of characteristics and morals.

During their final fight against Francis Fitzgerald, the Guild’s boss, they always arguing over their resolve like the stray dogs barking each other for finding out who is right and who is wrong and Francis saw them that way.

Which is why Dazai forced them to work together to defeat the boss and test his theory if their power have the potential to become a stronger duo than the previous Double Black pairs and he is right all along. Francis defeat with their combined abilities.

With Atsushi’s white tiger ability and Akutagawa’s black beast Rashomon, both of them are an unstoppable pair and that is the start of the new generation of Double Black, Shin Sokoku. Their tale of their fight is yet to end as I will write which they will face a new antagonist after the three-way war.

These three pairs are ferocious groups. Each character have different ideals and believe but their bond of fighting alongside is much stronger than we thought. When their tale is about to unfold, what are their string of fate lead to? Please enjoy reading them.

[ol-razzle-dazazzle]

The Bridges We Cannot Cross- Chapter 4: Four Stitches in Time

I don't have much to say here, except that four is superstitious because it symbolises death. Enough said. ------------------------ Atsushi felt a cold, horrifying chill creeping among his spine. He opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was a woman fall into the water, sinking... it was but an instant, the shatter of glass lingering ringing in the ears. He felt his stomach turn and his body tightening in fear as he clamoured up to the edge of the bridge. "I...knew...I knew you hated me." A sobbing man mumbles, his arms are open, he shoved her. That alone would've set Atsushi racing, but he heard. "It's hopeless." A light laugh for such a heavy dripping statement. "Tell me, did she hurt you?" A step closer, ghosting along he frazzled man. "You know, you had to do it. Everything passes." A hand grabs a candle, dripping wax and flames on a bridge that did not burn. "She deserved it, you deserved it." A nervous laugh emerged from the other man, as he shifted, standing on the handlebars. "Die here or live a life alone." The words were empty, the candle was cast aside, never to be seen again in the void of the water, that had once seemed so clear, but now so bleak. "But don't you know..." "S-Stop! I-I'll do it..." The man shook, slipping a foot with a cry. Atsushi felt as if he was a ghost, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to- "But you know, humans are always truly alone." "That's not true!" Atsushi cried out, flinging his body and hand out to the man, but it was too late. A splash caused a wave of despair to overcome Atsushi. A scream emerged without his realisation. "Atsushi..." Dazai looks up, and his eyes are like when they first met- pooling voids, white robes again, and embers that threatened to burn the youkai alive. "Dazai...what...what the hell have you done?" Atsushi grabs him by the shoulders, and it feels like static. Water drips above the bridge. "Dazai, why..." "It's what I am." A smile, but only by name. "I was wrong. After everything...it still happens." "What happens?!" "Atsushi..." Dazai weeps, with a smirk. "You know, standing here like this, we almost look like..." No. "We're not alone." Atsushi stopped his hand, concealing a long sharpened needle. His heart pounded in his chest, a sharp pain piercing his abdomen. Blood emerged. Dazai stepped back, shaking. "Atsushi, I..." The needle clattered to the floor, as Atsushi reeled over. "I'm so sorry...I-I..." He reached a hand to settle on comforting the man, but retracted it. "I-I need to go to the hospital." Atsushi staggered up. The wound was a lot better than it could've been...but he still need to go to a hospital. Dazai ran after him, until he felt his soul- if he even had one, until he felt his being feel like it would shatter into a million pieces, stopping just short. As always. The bridge creaked, hissing against him the burden upon him. The river could not comfort, for its bubbles still contained the trapped life of not only the two lives, but the others before them. He was a hashihime, he was no longer human. But considering life, was he ever as such in the first place? Such was fate. Such was murder. ***** Atsushi burst into the hospital doors, uncaring of the normal fear of others that usually crept into him. He'd been stabbed, by the one person that cared about him. The wound was nothing. Atsushi had suffered worse, it wasn't a burn, or hunger. It was the ache in his heart that came with it. Not of shock, but of something akin to the love he felt. As he went under anaesthetic he recalled Dazai's eyes, what was in them? Vengence, hatred? Yes, but why would he hate him? The word came to him in dreamless thought. Fear. Fear not of losing something, but of something that was already lost. Atsushi opens his eyes, but how could he do it so...carelessly? Dazai at least had humanity...or did he? What was it like, his past life? How long did he spend under that bridge? How many other people did he kill? "Don't get up, you'll open your wound." A familiar voice. Atsushi turned, wincing, to see, "Ango?" "I wanted to talk with you soon...but this wasn't exactly the ideal. Well, what better time than the present I guess." An empty laugh and smile, similar to Dazai's own. His glasses were smudged and stained, hands stained with black ink. "How did you know I would get stabbed?" "I didn't. It was probability." "Probability...?" "That I would be here, that you would get hurt, whatever it is. Who even gave you that wound anyway? For record purposes." Atsushi glanced at the sheets below him. "Dazai...-" "How did he-" "I need to know about what happened to him." "Look, most of this stuff is highly classified-" "Oh, so you're just going to let me wander around, to get stabbed again?!" The words echoed through the hospital, until only the soft beeping was heard. Atsushi didn't even have anything attached, why would there be a heart monitor? Ango bit his lip, looking behind him. "...Fine. Not like you have anywhere else to go. Dazai was first and foremost a mafia man..." ***** Dazai felt like drowning. That is to say that he was currently in submersion, for around 7 hours, but knew that it wouldn't make a difference. He had sunk low enough to see the glimmer of bones calcifying, weighing down on him, the people he had killed. Perhaps...if he went deeper, he would see his own corpse, his own bones of who he used to be. Despite the pile, despite the 'double suicides' he knew it would be alone. Of course it would be. It was the reason he was like this in the first place. When he drowned, the last few bubbles floating to the surface. There was no one there, no one to save him. He was fated to die alone. The worst terror, the most nightmarish thing he could conceive after such a brutal life. Fear, hate, loathing for himself and the world. The world turned against him. Envy. Dazai opened his eyes, the empty ocean above him and the pile of death below. He wondered if he deserved it. Of course he did. He got betrayed by the one thing closest to him in life, and he betrayed the one thing closest to him in death. He wept. He wept for the corpses, and he wept for Atsushi. But tears absolved nothing, they only were absorbed in the water. ***** "After everything..." Ango kept going, despite Atsushi's shocked expression. "We decided to end it. If we left, the mafia would kill us anyway, and apart from Odasaku, our records were completely stained." "We decided to meet one last time at a river." Atsushi's eyes widened. "Dazai had nothing to lose, in fact, he was the most accepting of the idea. I had practically every conceivable organisation that would be after me. As for Odasaku...well it was a moment of weakness for him. Understandably, considering everyone he cared about was dead or going to die." "Then how did you..." Atsushi held his tongue. "We all agreed but..." Another empty laugh. "What can I say? I'm a coward." "You're not!" Atsushi gripped his arm. "You...thought you could keep going." "...I guess I did. I don't know, but either way, I was gasping for breath, and I..." Ango stopped himself, trying to gain some composure. "I jumped after one of them, there was only one I could help." "I chose Odasaku." "I don't know if I made the right decision... but it's done. They're practically dead." "Why...couldn't you have saved him?" Atsushi looks up. "No one can truly save anyone." Ango replied blankly. "Y-You could've tried harder!" Atsushi splutters. "Get up." Ango stares at it. "Now." There was nothing in his eyes, Atsushi followed, wincing at the wound. Ango stepped to the other side of the room, Atsushi following him blindly. "You have the idea that somehow, we could've done better." Ango's voice shook. "I've heard this beeping for so long." He sets his hand on top of the heart monitor, attached to a person, unmoving. "I chose Odasaku, but I'll never know if that was the right decision. Especially since there's...not enough space to keep his body in the world anymore." Ango forced a smile on his face, tears streaming, his glasses getting further sullied. "You know, I don't even know you. I don't understand how or why you even know Dazai, and the thing is? I don't even care. But I'll let you go with one simple fact. One little value that says quiet a bit about all this." Ango turns to Atsushi, "Do you know how long I've heard that beep for?" His hand moves from the monitor, to Odasaku's own. "Four years." Four years since he died, four years since limbo, and four years a demon.