#bsd fukuzawa angst

[yokohamapound]

How about some angsty HCs?? 😏

How would Kunikida, Dazai, Fukuzawa, Chuuya and Fyodor (or anyone else you’d like too) react to their s/o taking a hit for them that would have otherwise been fatal if they didn’t?? S/o ends up being okay but the gentlemen are all angsty in the meantime >:)

Thanks so much lovely! 🥰💕

Hello, my lovely! It's been a while since I wrote some good old angst, so this scratched an itch. I hope these are what you are looking for!

Characters: Nakahara Chuuya, Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Fukuzawa Yukichi, Kunikida Doppo

Contents: death mentions, suicide mentions, controlling behaviour, anger issues

Nakahara Chuuya

Ooh, it’s kinda difficult for him to deal with? He’s in two minds about it, really. 

On one hand, he’s strong enough that whatever blow was being dealt to him really wouldn’t have hurt him that much, or so he tells himself. All he can think about is that moment where the bullet/bomb/fireball, whatever it is, was coming toward you. Yes, you survived it, but he had to live through the nanoseconds of absolute hell when he thought he was just about to see another person he cares about die right before his eyes. 

His temper erupts afterward. He’s furious, yelling at you that you “didn’t fuckin’ need to do that!” You’d be forgiven for thinking that it’s his pride you’ve hurt, but it’s anger born of worry. Those few moments he thought you were going to die were harrowing for him. 

Imagine if he carelessly lost the person he loves the most, just because he was too slow or too stupid to see it coming? Shit, he could never live with himself if that happened. 

However, there’s the other side of the coin. Which is that you cared about him enough to intercept a blow aimed at him. Chuuya can’t remember the last time someone did that for him. He’s used to being the tank, to soaking up all the violence so the geniuses can get on with their schemes. He doesn’t really know how to handle someone trying to protect him, like he’s something vulnerable.

He likes it and he doesn’t. He’s grateful and he’s pissed. Chuuya’s a complicated creature. 

Once he’s done yelling and has calmed down a little, he’ll mutter something that sounds like a ‘thank you’, though he says it with his eyes mulishly averted and one arm wrapped tightly around your waist. He won’t be letting you out of his sight for a while, even while he’s being a grouch.

Dazai Osamu

While he might not show it on the surface, this has a rather profound effect on Dazai. Remember the last time someone he loved died in front of him?

While he pretends to be calm on the surface, inside he’s in turmoil. He should have seen it coming; you’re the self-sacrificing sort, always trying to save him in one or another. But before now, it hasn’t been literal. 

I feel like time moves very slowly for someone as fast as Dazai. He was able to process far too much information in those few seconds you were in danger. All of his mistakes, laid out for him as plain as day. 

He tends to convince himself that he can plan around every kind of incident but this is a start reminded that this isn’t always the case.

“Hey, bella?” His tone is unusually serious. His hand on your shoulder. “I’m going to need you not to do that again. Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you die in front of me.”

If you pay close attention, you’ll notice Dazai doesn’t make any more double suicide jokes after that. They don’t have the same appeal. Dazai doesn’t think he could stand to watch you die, even if you did want to join him. 

He keeps a close watch on you after that, turning up unexpectedly throughout your day without any explanation, his lanky form popping up like a weed.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

While he will never, ever reveal it, this will shake Fyodor’s iron-clad ego a little bit. He likes to think he is in control of everything, and he can predict every single action of yours down to the blink. For whatever reason, he didn’t foresee you getting in his way and taking a hit meant for him. 

You gain an element of unpredictability, which is both intriguing and alarming for him. 

There is also the fact that you stepped in to take a hit for him. While he’s used to having underlings who look up to him like a god (Ivan), he doesn’t count you amongst the peons. He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, but in a way that promotes adoration and obedience, not self-sacrificing recklessness. He’ll have to step back and examine your relationship somewhat.

“My darling, what was the meaning of that?” he asks of you, his tone soft and a little dangerous. “I do not need you flinging yourself in the path of danger for me. I have everything in hand.”

He likes your devotion, but he doesn’t want you getting in the way of his plans. And he does care about you, love you in his own way—he doesn’t want to lose something he sees as his. 

If you were injured at all, he will have the best private doctors on hand to treat you. Be prepared for his love and attention to be a little stifling for a while. He won’t want to let you out of his sight. 

As for the person whose attack you foiled? Fyodor will turn the full weight of his enormous intellect to destroying them. They were dead the moment their attack came near something he cares about.

Fukuzawa Yukichi

Fukuzawa is very much the self-sacrificing sort. He’s said more than once that he doesn’t mind giving up his life in order to ensure peace in Yokohama, or to protect the lives of the younger members of the agency. He’s heavily bound by duty.

While he holds these values to himself, he doesn’t expect you to abide by the same code. In fact, he doesn’t want you to. You’re not a grizzled old samurai like him. (His words, not yours.)

He also heavily dislikes the idea that you were in danger because of him. Your relationship with him shouldn’t be a source of danger for you. As soon as he’s sure you’re safe and well, he will sit back and mull things over in his silent, intense way. He considers all options, from simply killing the person who tried to attack him, to ending your relationship with him to ensure your safety.

Thankfully, he comes to the conclusion that you are an adult who knows what is good for you. He’s never hidden the truth from you, and if you’re willing to face that to stand at his side, then Fukuzawa needs to respect that. He can’t make your decisions for you. 

“However,” he says. “I must ask that you do not do that again. I can accept my own death, but not yours.”

“Don’t you trust me to watch your back?”

“Obviously, you can be trusted,” he says. “Today is evidence enough, but know that I could not live with myself if you were injured or killed looking out for me. If death is coming for me, I have earned it.”

He can’t really be talked out of this mindset, but that’s part of why you fell for him in the first place. Just make him a promise that you won’t put yourself at risk on his behalf. 

Kunikida Doppo

Poor Kunikida.

One of his ideals is that he will never watch anyone die right in front of him if he can help it. The last time he had to watch an innocent person die, it almost shattered his psyche. 

If you were to die in front of him, it would break him utterly. Even though you’re fine, the close shave rattles him down to his core. Instead of blowing his top and then settling down, the way you’re used to him doing, Kunikida becomes grim and quiet. 

He refuses to step away from your bedside while you’re in the hospital for a check-up after the incident. His notebook of ideals is folded in his pocket, ignored. The fact he isn’t scribbling anything down is a little alarming. He’s not Kunikida if he’s not adding little notes to it every five minutes. He has his hands steepled together, his face grim behind his glasses.

“Are you going to yell at me?” you ask him. 

Kunikida lifts his gaze to you, almost as if he’s surprised to hear you speak. He breaks out of his reverie a little bit, sitting up and pushing his glasses further up his nose. The light hits the lenses, hiding his expression from you a little. His voice is sombre.

“I must thank you for saving my life,” he tells you, almost formal. 

“That’s not the only thing bothering you, is it?” You know him well enough by now. You reach out and take one of his hands.

Kunikida fingers tighten around yours, trembling slightly. It’s the only way that you can see how completely off centre he is. 

“Kunikida?”

“Don’t…don’t make me worry like that again. Please.”

[dragondoodling]

All my Bungou Stray Dog Headcanons, ALL OF THEM

(more to be added)

-T4T skk (masc)

-sskk

-Rampoe

-Oda and Ango were dating 

-Dazai is touch starved

-Chuuya is touch-adverse, Dazai being an exception

-Chuuya loves supplying Dazai with all the touch he craves (just like me fr)

-Chuuya has top surgery, but not on T

-Dazai is on T, but no top surgery 

-Dazai binds with bandages (DON’T DO THIS ITS VERY BAD AND UNHEALTHY)

-Dazai and Chuuya were dating in the mafia and broke up after Dazai left

-They got back together after the truce

-Chuuya was very hurt by Dazai leaving, but they talked it out and Chuuya understands why Dazai left how he did

-Dazai and Chuuya live together

-Chuuya has central heterochromia 

-Chuuya’s corruption marks are always visible, albeit very faint when not active

-Chuuya’s manga hair color is his natural color, occasionally dying it ginger

-Chuuya has intervened and stopped multiple of Dazai’s attempts 

-Dazai does Chuuya’s nails

-Dazai doesn’t self harm (he dislikes pain)

-Dazai actually has abnormally low pain tolerance, but has learned to hide it in the mafia

-Dazai has autism, which is why he struggles with showing his emotions, but trauma (Mori) has led him to believe it’s because he isn’t human

-Dazai has severe medical trauma and outright refuses to enter Yosano’s office/clinic

-Dazai has mistaken Yosano for Mori on particularly bad days

-Dazai is NOT allowed on the roof of the agency without someone else there

-Dazai is blind in his right eye

-This is from @asingleflyingfuck but Dazai has alexithymia

-Within the ADA, Dazai is the closest with Rampo

-Dazai and Rampo play video games together, both enjoying Danganronpa

-Rampo and Poe don’t live together (yet)

-Rampo and Poe are both autistic 

-Rampo is also ADHD

-Rampo is farsighted, which was the original reason Fukuzawa bought the glasses

-Rampo is legally adopted by Fukuzawa (all the minors that join the agency are)

-Poe is blind

-Karl is a seeing eye raccoon that guides him like ratatouille

-Trans masc Akutagawa 

-Akutagawa isn’t on T or have top surgery due to his health issues

-Akutagawa has haphephobia

-Atsushi chuffs (tiger equivalent of purring)

-Atsushi has been legally adopted by Dazai (He doesn’t know)

-Atsushi has schizophrenia

-Kunikida has OCD

-Everyone has some form/amount of PTSD

Posts of headcanons I like:

This is what I was saying about Rampo’s poor eyesight:

[rosalinesurvived]

Fukuzawa's so fucking funny to me i cant even. He's insane. Raised up in a state sanctioned military school. Raised to master several martial arts styles and taught to master a sword since he was a kid. Didn’t go to war because he hated the army hierarchy. Stopped being a government’s catspaw because he realised liked killing people too much and Thats A Bit Fucked Up. Mind you, not that he was killing people, that he liked it. He can get so angry that people stop their cars on the road mid-movement on the road in horror at his rage. He's a freak magnet. He meets Ranpo and thinks of 50 different ways of killing him. His act of helping a 14 year old with no job, no home and no parents is to offer him assistance as a bodyguard. Free for once. He's insane. He then builds up an entire agency of gifted people and gets into several wars to assist this kid. He killed the Minister of Justice’s father. This is never addressed beyond the guy framing the Agency for mass murder (including his own). He likes cats. His main shipping partners are the maybe-pedophile main villan of the thing they're directly enemies with and also his also-main enemy ex-bff military dude with a time travelling stabby stick who kills his not-grandkids. His childhood friend of thirteen years started to hate him because Fukuzawa refused to fight a full on fucking military war with him. After refusing to fight a war he decided to skip a step and just become an assassin. He thinks you should’nt critisice other people’s food choices. He steals all of his other ex-husband’s kids in their divorce battles. He wears a haori, yukata, tabi and zori plus is a trained swordsman in modern day japan. His afformentioned ex-bff wants to make him into the leader of the world because he thinks Fukuzawa’s an uncorruptable person. Fukuzawa liked murdering people.

[asagirisfavpen]

Bsd AU where Rimbaud and Verlaine didn't get to the lab in time and N managed to make Chuuya a weapon

Bsd AU where "Arahabaki", an 10 y/o kid, is sent to eliminate Japan's enemies in the Great War.

Bsd AU where Rimbaud and Verlaine are sent on the front so they stop Arahabaki from killing everyone.

Bsd AU where Chuuya uses Corruption to eliminate his country's enemies until he can't take anymore and passes out.

Bsd AU where Verlaine and Rimbaud are searching all over the war camps to find a little kid that's seen as a weapon.

Bsd AU where an 11 y/o Yosano finda a little kid lost amongst soldiers. The kid is hurt so she heals him. He never leaves her side again, too scared of getting hurt, too scared to be taken back to the lab.

Bsd AU where the Great War ended and Japan was on the winning side and Mori figured out who or what Chuuya was and wanted to have him.

Bsd AU where Chuuya and Yosano are put in confinement for their crimes during the war even though they won the war for their country. And they even have to be separated.

Bsd AU where Chuuya lost everything, family, safety, trust, friends, and N finds him and takes him back, proud of his work.

Bsd AU where after Fukuzawa defeats Mori and saves Yosano, the little girl tells him someone else needs to be saved.

Bsd AU where Chuuya escapes by himself from the lab and finds the Sheep. He doesn't trust them, everything is temporary. But he can’t help it. He gets attached and joins them.

Bsd AU where Verlaine and Rimbaud return to France thinking Arahabaki must've died but Verlaine can't accept it.

Bsd AU where after the Sheep betrays Chuuya he doesn't join the Mafia for them. It's not worth it. But Dazai doesn't kill them. He's too shocked Chuuya didn't made the choice he expected.

Bsd AU where after Chuuya leaves the Sheep he's found by Fukuzawa and gets reunited with his friend.

Bsd AU where Chuuya becomes a member of the Agency when he was 15 and felt pretty much happy since then.

Bsd AU where Chuuya and Murase have a father-son relationship because this time they can.

Bsd AU where Chuuya has friends that don't use him and that won't leave him, here in the Agency.

Bsd AU where years later Dazai joins the Agency and he's faced with the boy he couldn't predict.

Bsd AU where Chuuya is happy and goes drinking with Yosano and they accidentally get to a Mafia's bar but the people there, some dudes calling themselves the Flags, are chill and they bond.

Bsd AU where The Assassin King randomly sees some news from Japan about a detective and he realizes that's Arahabaki, no. Chuuya. And he feels bad he couldn't help him but he's also happy that Chuuya's not in pain anymore.

Bsd AU where at the beginning Chuuya can't trust Dazai but they end up working too good together not to.

Bsd AU where Chuuya accidentally meets Shirase and he (Shirase) apologizes for what he did to Chuuya. It's hard, but Chuuya forgives him and the Sheep.

Bsd AU where Chuuya is working on a case with the Europole and he has to work with some AI detective, Adam. Turns out the robot is cool and they become friends.

Bsd AU where Chuuya doesn't question his humanity, where Chuuya's friends are alive and he can see them all.

(Does this make sense? Prolly not, partially because English isn't my first language. Does it have plot holes? Definitely. Did it feel angsty when I wrote it? Yep. Be honest, am I delulu?? )

[littencloud9]

on road trips, new beginnings, and dazai discovering what it means to have a family

🦐 gen, 2.1k. featuring bad music, a chaotic snack shopping trip, and fukuzawa being the Dad™️

🦐 written for @starrynightarchive :) happy birthday vi!!

[mncxbe]

i hope youre having a good day!

i have a request if its okay :) fukuzawa x wife!reader with the prompt “i know i am not forgiven, but i hope that i’ll be given some peace.” i think its perfect for fukuzawa, him being an ex assassin and all

I absolutely love this prompt and I had so much fun writing this piece. I hope I got the direction you were getting at and anyway if not I hope you still enjoy it♡

°☆○

𝙋𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙮 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝

𝙁𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙯𝙖𝙬𝙖 𝙭 𝙬𝙞𝙛𝙚!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

I know I am not forgiven for the things I made you go through, but I hope I’ll be given some peace.

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: slight angst / lovey dovey at the end

Time: 1.30 A.M

*4 missed calls from Y/N*

Fukuzawa looked down at his screen, wiping the beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He knew you were going to be upset. Being an assassin sometimes meant working at ungodly hours, whenever he was needed; and it also meant that there were people who wanted his head, who constantly followed him. Which is why he couldn’t risk telling you any details about his job. He could never forgive himself if you got hurt because of him. All that you knew was that your husband was working for the government.

This secrecy eventually ended up being a problem. During the time the two of you dated you didn’t really discuss these aspects. They were unimportant. But after the wedding and a few months into the marriage things started to get heated.

You would come home to an empty apartment, cook dinner and wait. Hours passed and there was no sign of your husband. You would call, but he wouldn’t answer. Eventually, you decided to go out for a walk or to meet some friends at a bar but when you returned Fukuzawa still wasn’t home. After a while when he got home, hair disheveled and shirt slightly undone, your mind started to wander; ’Did he get in trouble?’, ‘Is he hurt?’, ‘Is he seeing other women?’. All your questions were brushed off with a wave of his hand. Although Fukuzawa did his best to reassure him that everything was alright, that he was devoted to you only, that he just had to work late hours, whenever you would ask for details about his work he would go silent. Of course you didn’t mean to pry, but you really wanted to know. This feeling was eating you alive and you two started growing distant.

On that night when Fukuzawa got home, he tiptoed to your shared bedroom. He was desperate to see you, to hold you after such a long day at work. But when he opened the door he was faced with an empty bed. He checked the bathroom, the storage room, panic taking over him. It was only when he returned to the kitchen that he saw the note on the table, scribbled in your handwriting.

“I’ll spend the night at my friend’s place.

You have some food in the fridge.”

He let out a sigh and instinctively brought a hand up to his forehead, gently massaging it. You were safe, yes, but you had never left before, not without telling him in person or at least texting him. A wave of frustration and sadness overtook him. He was torn in two; part of him wanted to call you right away, to tell you everything and make things right but the other part knew it’d be better not to get you involved. The more you knew, the riskier it was. For the first time in a long while, Fukuzawa felt helpless.

He could barely sleep for the rest of the night, constantly waking up and reaching out for you. But you weren’t there. The next day he nearly got himself injured during a mission. The sleepless night really took a toll on him so his boss sent him home earlier. When the white haired man entered your apartment, you were still not there.

‘Ah, she’s still at work’ he thought, then an idea popped in his head. He rushed to the nearest flower shop and bought a bouquet of white tulips and a cake from your favourite bakery. This trip took him around an hour but he figured he still had some time to get everything ready and surprise you.

He made his way back to your place and unlocked the door, stepping inside just as you were starting to pack your luggage. Most of your clothes were discarded on the couch and the floor.

He froze. The sound of his steps alerted you so you turned to face him. Fukuzawa noticed the bags under your eyes and puffy eyes the second you locked eyes.

“I see you’re home early” you spoke in a flat voice

“Yes, dear. They let me go earlier today”

A loud silence fell between the two of you until your husband gathered the courage to ask you in a shaky voice:

“Are you planning to leave?”

You just nod, stating that you want to visit your mother for a week or two, to set some things straight.

Fukuzawa walked up to you, placing the flowers and the cake on the couch. He then slowly wrapped his hands around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“My love, I am sorry I am not the husband you hoped I was going to be. I know I’m always away with work but I promise I will do my best from now on because I love you. So please, let’s talk things out. Please stay with me.”

The back of your throat was aching, muscles so tight you couldn’t even utter a word. Tears started streaming down your cheeks, wetting his shirt. You grasped his haori, pulling him closer to you.

His heart broke seeing you cry, but he let you regain your breath before he let you go. He picked up the bouquet, motioning you to take a seat on the couch before he spoke again.

“I work as an assassin for the government…”

When he was done telling you about his work, he exhaled deeply. “And now you know why I didn’t want to tell you everything. It endangers you and that’s the last thing I want.” He took your hands in his, your skin feeling smooth compared to his calloused palms. “But I promise I’ll protect you with my life, my love. I know I am not forgiven for the things I made you go through, but I hope I’ll be given some peace."

You smiled softly, caressing his hair with a hand. His usual stoic expression was softer now, when he was looking at you.

“Thank you for telling me, dear. And you’re forgiven. I’m also sorry for this” you replied, gesturing at the piles of clothes on the floor. “I’ll stay and we’re going to work things out, I promise. But first… ”

A sly smile rose to your lips as you glanced at the dessert next to you “I believe we have a cake to eat”

Fukuzawa chuckled, his muscles completely relaxing as he embraced you again.

“Thank you, dear. Now wait here I’ll go grab the plates.”

You spent the rest of the evening enjoying each other's company, watching tv and cuddling. By the time you went to sleep the sun was starting to rise, painting the white petals of your tulips golden. 

[irritablepoe]

........oh. I just hurt myself a lot. What if... Poe were to show up at the airport after everything is done... And everyone is more or less fine.... And he'd search for ranpo... And couldn't find him... And he just marches up to fukuzawa.... and screams at him where the fuck his son is and if he's really so irresponsible.... Together with fukuzawa already grieving... And everyone just as clueless.... Oh dear lord...

[miaitzia]

BABY FUKUZAWA AND FUKUCHI ARE SO ADORABLE IN THIS PANEL I LOVE THEM

[peapodfics]

Kindness (and Other Fatal Wounds)

By: full_moon_pills

Traumatized Dazai (by Mori), Parental Fukuzawa, and a very 'done with Dazai's bullshit' Yosano.

[starlostlix]

I don't know how to add spoilers warnings to photos so

BSD 116 SPOILERS

For this specific panel of Fukuzawa

He looks so defeated it makes me so sad.

Let him mourn Fukuchi pls he needs it.

[bleachification]

⸻ CHAPTER FIVE; ALL MEN ARE EQUAL

pairing: dazai x f!reader (fantasy au)

warnings: mentions/themes of depression

chapter list: this is CHAPTER FIVE of a multi-chapter fic series. PLEASE read the chapters below (in order) before this one or you will be very lost!!

prologue

one

two

three

four

word count: 3.5k

+ + + + + + + + + + + + +

Back in your homeland, at the Imperial Palace, the largest constructed facilities are ones of sport and training. Sharpened swords and polished armour take the place of bookshelves on bedroom walls, and the practice of scripture is seldom found. Higher education, though no less important than warfare, is strictly limited to scriveners, court officials, and the professional erudites of your father’s choosing. In the face of current conflicts, most of your father’s people are far more absorbed in military affairs and bureaucracy than arithmetics, the sciences and the humanities.

Although, when it came to you, it was like a switch went off and all those sentiments were turned upside down. 

By a certain age, your tutelage switched from scholarly knowledge to that of etiquette and what he referred to as ‘womanly affairs’. Those usually consisted of things like sewing, music, and art classes. The only one you ever enjoyed was the horseback lessons. 

But thankfully, your father’s one track mind meant you were never discovered for—or suspected of—possessing further-education books and studying politics, diplomacy, and military tactics on the days general schooling lessons were cancelled. It is why you find yourself in the royal library, hours before you are due to meet Dazai for dinner. 

Hundreds, if not thousands, of marble shelves line the walls from floor to ceiling. Each one is stacked, end-to-end, with leather bound tomes and tea-stained manuscripts. There is a fireplace in the right corner, carved from blackened stone and crackling with warmth. Around it sits a pair of dark-green, thickly-cushioned armchairs, along with a matching sofa that is wide enough to fit at least four people. 

You walk further in and are greeted with four arched windows spanning the length and height of the space, each one clear as the summer sea. You squint, momentarily blinded by a sudden passing ray of sunlight. Birds are chirping underneath the morning sky, and branches of a looming willow tree sway in front of the left-most window. You take in the sprawling garden view; a labyrinthine maze of hedges take up the centre, and a large assortment of decorations speckle the grounds. Smaller fountains, rainbow flower beds, and iron-wrought benches are only a few of what you can see. 

You look around a bit more, noting the study tables anchored to the floor and the winding staircase that leads to the open-plan second floor. The library is well-kept, as shown by the pots holding blooming flowers along the window sills, but the dust lining the shelves indicates that no one has used the archives in a long time. You wonder why—it is the first and only comforting place that you have found in the cold, lonely palace. 

You make your way down the stacks before a section catches your eye.

A Comprehensive Guide on Abilities and a Meta Analysis on their Structural Archetypes; 

The Scholar’s Circle’s Codex on Yokohama’s Political Affairs;

North vs. South: A Dynastic Tale of Continental History. 

You grab all three and almost lose your balance from the weight of each text. More and more books are added to the pile in your arms until you can no longer see straight ahead. 

With a huff, you drop the mountain of pending research onto an oak-stained study table and quickly get to work. 

Hours pass, the concept of time long faded as you lose yourself in the world of preternatural powers, warring states, and the cluttered institutions that make up the Kingdom in its most present form. 

The striking differences between Yokohama and the Northern Empire are more vast than you had ever imagined. It's a stark contrast—governance, industry, arts, religion and everything else you've come across so far. Not a single commonality to be found.

“How has…? But wouldn’t the roots originate from the dark ages? Let’s see…” you mumble, talking to no one in particular. 

“Have you found a specially interesting read?” A particular person asks. 

You fall out of your seat in surprise. 

“General!” You squeak, reeling from his sudden appearance. 

The mild-mannered Fukuzawa gives you a gentle smile and moves to help you up. He hooks two large arms under your own and lifts you back onto your chair. The scene reminds you of a mother cat picking its kitten up by the scruff of its neck.

You drop your head onto the table in embarrassment, refusing to make eye contact until, hopefully, a meteor comes falling onto earth and crushes you to death. 

“Good morning, General,” you mutter. 

“Hmm.”

You peek up at him with one eye. “What?”

“It is five in the evening,” he replies, bemused. 

“What?!” You bolt up, shame long forgotten. 

It takes you a second to realize how orange the library is, cast in the hues from the setting sun. 

You drag a hand over your face, rubbing the fatigue from your eyes. “Shit, I didn’t realize how late it had gotten.”

Fukuzawa raises a brow. 

“What? You’ve never heard a noble cuss before?” 

He taps his chin. “I can’t say I have. You truly are a breath of fresh air, Your Highness.”

You grin. “As are you, General. And please…”

He listens, head tilting in curiosity. 

“It is [name]. We are friends, are we not?” Your false sincerity coats your words like a second skin.  

The sun dips far below the horizon, robbing the world of its light. You take in the storm clouds in the distance, absentmindedly wondering if the Empire would experience the same downpour later in the night. 

Fukuzawa ponders your question for a moment longer before answering. “We are, but I am also your subordinate, so I am afraid I must decline.”

“And if it is an order?”

Fukuzawa’s eyes sparkle. “Then I am under aristocratic obligation to comply.”

In a tone laced with authority and bemusement, you proclaim: “I, acting Monarch of Yokohama, hereby order General Yukichi Fukuzawa to act beyond propriety and address me by given name only. No titles, no fancy designations. Just [name].” 

“As long as you are willing to grant me that same honor, [name].”

You grin. “See? Isn’t that so much better, Yukichi?”

The General only laughs and turns to take a seat across from you. The armour he dons makes a clanging noise as he settles himself. Patches of dirt litter the surface of the metal while other areas sport minor indents—likely from the force of a blade's flat or hilt. 

“Did that hurt?” You nod towards the largest dip in the steel. 

He looks down at his left side, around the area between his upper ribs. “Couldn’t even feel it.”

“Of course not,” you wave, returning your attention back to the pages. 

“I see you are interested in…” Fukuzawa leans over the table, peering at the emboldened titles of each tome. “Yokohama politics, history, and culture?”

“The pen is mightier than the sword, as they say,” you muse. “And a bright mind is far mightier than those stumbling blind in the darkness of their own ignorance.”

“I do wish more members of the court shared that sentiment. It would certainly make my migraines less frequent.” 

You faintly recall the term from a book you finished earlier. “The… inner court?”

“The very same. A parliamentary round table of aristocrats and representatives, headed by the Four Noble Houses.”

“The Four Noble Houses? You mean…” You cringe, an unpleasant memory resurfacing. 

Fukuzawa’s eyes gleam with amusement. “Ah, yes. I recall a certain purple-faced duke drenched in the colours of His Majesty’s most favoured cabernet sauvignon.”

You smile sheepishly. “I messed up, didn’t I?”

“Formally? Yes.”

You groan and drop your head in your hands.

Fukuzawa lays a palm on your shoulder and gives you a gentle pat. 

“But reasonably? Absolutely not. He deserved ten times worse than what he got.”

“Someone needed to stand up to him,” you point out. 

“Sadly, there are not many people who can.”

You sigh at that and go back to your research. The moment you set your eyes back on the book, the pages in front of you begin to blur and mesh into a whirlpool of ink. 

“Maybe it is time for a break…” you murmur. 

Fukuzawa leans forward and studies your fatigued expression. 

“What have you learned so far?”

You snort. “You mean other than our sordid history? The decades of hatred and conflict brewing between our countries?”

“Ah, yes. Besides that fun little facet of our politics.”

You run through the miles of information you had just absorbed, each little bit coming together piece by piece to paint a very clear picture of the modern world—one where mystic abilities, gods of old, and monsters coexist in disharmony. 

‘Abilities’ as you have come to know them, are practically non-existent among the lower caste in the Northern Empire. The only ones who wield them are of noble blood, aside from the rare few commoners—unfortunate individuals who would be executed for merely holding power outside of their status. Even then, barely anyone manifests one. In recent years, the only ability-user you know of is Chuuya.  

In Yokohama, these powers are respected, admired, and much more plentiful. In your textual observations, it is noted that the military and governing leaders are chosen for their abilities. 

“Hm… what is yours?”

 You are curious. What sort of fate-bending, death-defying power could this seasoned warrior have?

“Mine?”

“Your ability. You must have one, being the head of such an elite corps.”

“My ability…” he pauses. 

You raised a teasing brow. “What? You’re not going to tell me?”

“Just considering the risks of doing so. You have proven yourself to be both smart and deceitful. A deadly combination.”

“Are you saying you don’t trust me?” You place a hand on your chest in mock offence, scoffing in indignation. 

Fukuzawa laughs—that familiar smooth rumble that you have come to find placating. “Would I be wise to?”

“Of course not.” You wave a dismissive hand. “But you should tell me anyway because I am curious and stubborn and will likely find out on my own regardless.”

The general’s gaze is filled with a kind of warmth that is unknown to you, only interrupted by a flicker of a melancholy that twists his expression momentarily." It happens so fast you almost mistake it for a trick of the light.

“You remind me so much of her…” He mumbles under his breath so softly you pass it off as a whisper of the wind. “Very well. I will tell you.”

The sun has all but disappeared from the horizon, the shimmering moon slipping in its place. The dark, glittering night falls onto Fukuzawa’s features beautifully, making  him seem a little more weathered and a little less mundane as he explains his decidedly non-mundane powers. 

“It allows me to control my soldiers’ own abilities. I am able to manipulate their capabilities, help navigate their potential, and expand the boundaries of what they can do. That is my ability,” he explains. 

You mull over Fukuzawa’s words, a bit surprised at the nature of it all. The powerfully built military veteran looks at you like he knows what you are thinking—knows that you are confused on why someone with his battle prowess has such a passive skill. 

“You forget, Your Highness, that before I am a warrior, I am first and foremost a leader. Without my men, I am nothing, and without me, many of those men would not have survived until now,” he states. He says it like a fact, and perhaps in some ways, it is. It makes more sense the longer you think on it, his ability is almost perfectly suited to his position. You wonder what yours would be if you manifested one. What about Dazai? Would his ability reflect bloodthirst and coldness? Or would it be the opposite of what you know him as?

You make a mental note to come back to that question later, and direct your attention back to the conversation at hand. 

“[Name],” you correct.

Fukuzawa blinks. “Sorry?”

“You called me ‘Your Highness’ just now.”

“I apologize. Force of habit,” he drops his head in a slight bow and the moonlight streaming through the open windows reflects off his gray hair, transforming it into a silver mane. 

Fukuzawa apologizes to you a lot, like a father fumbling for words in front of his newborn, careful not to be anything but kind. If anything, you find it endearing. As well as a little… disappointing. 

“General.”

Fukuzawa’s smile drops at your change in tone. The worry in his eyes is clear. “Is something wrong?”

You give him a small smile, a tad tense. “No. Not really. Though, I would like to ask you something. Would you humour me?”

“Of course. I will answer anything within reason,” he reassures. 

You rest your cheek against your palm, curiosity and wariness burning bright. 

“Why are you so kind to me? I know how this country views the Empire—views me. I am not blind to the scornful glances nor hidden insults thrown around. I am numb to them. But you… Kunikida… that peculiar doctor as well, you are all much too cordial with a sworn enemy. Is it pity? Some misplaced sense of duty? Or perhaps it is all fake and you are all laughing behind my back as we speak.”

Silence spreads through the empty library, the only noises are the crackling of the fireplace and the gentle swishes of the willow branch behind you. The only thing you hear is your pulse thrumming against your skull.

If Fukuzawa is taken aback by your bluntness, he does not show it. Despite only knowing you for this short period of time, he is probably already used to your brusque manner of speech. He folds his hands in front of him and leans backward, taking some time to come up with a suitable answer. You can practically see the gears turning in that head of his. 

A few moments pass before he finally speaks in a serious, yet gentle, voice.

“Do you think yourself undeserving of our respect?”

You shake your head and answer: “Not at all. I am only surprised you would willingly impart it to me.”

“I cannot speak on Sir Kunikida or Dr. Yosano’s behalf—although, I imagine they share the same thoughts—but I am kind to you because it is common sense. I am kind to you because I am honoured to serve under your reign,” Fukuzawa assures. His expression softens. “I am truly sorry about the harassment you have had to endure. I will do my best to keep them in check, but if it happens again, do not be afraid to use your status. You are their ruler. Do not let them forget it.”

A lump forms in your throat and you force yourself to swallow it down. The support eases your heart, but the anxiety does not fully disappear, nor does the cold tingle of resentment in your chest. They probably never will. For now, you will accept his words, but with caution, as you are still very much in enemy territory. You will need to lead with your mind to survive, not your heart.  

And Fukuzawa? The gentle general is merely a stepping stone, not a friend. 

“I… am grateful. Tha—”

“General Fukuzawa!” In a very familiar fashion, the doors to the library burst open to reveal a man, effectively cutting you off. 

Kunikida stands beneath the frame, face alarmingly red and breaths coming out in short, laboured puffs. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Fukuzawa grimacing. 

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?.” The minister spits out each word with barely contained anger—more accusation than actual question. 

“Chief Minister.” Fukuzawa bows and slowly inches himself towards the door, closer and closer to the fuming blonde. “I see you are… upset.”

Kunikida’s eye twitches. “Upset? Upset?!” His voice hits an impressive octave and you briefly wonder if he’s ever considered a career in opera. He certainly has the knack for it. 

“I—” 

“The outdoor arena is on fire.”

The general clears his throat. 

“Right. I did tell them not to try out those new techniques without me around, though His Majesty’s soldiers were never ones to adhere to the rules.”

“A black hole opened up in the ceiling and swallowed three stable boys. They were… fully nude when they fell out an hour later.”

Fukuzawa blinks. 

“That’s… new.”

“You have five seconds,” Kunikida says flatly. 

“Well. Duty calls. I shall have to put out some fires… er… literally.” Fukuzawa makes his way to the open doors and is about to leave when he adds: “Have a wonderful  night, [name].”

“Good luck,” you laugh. 

He gives you a small wave before disappearing down the hall. 

You turn your attention to Kunikida who is now slightly less red, though still glowing a nice shade of pink. 

“Good evening, Chief Minister. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask. 

“I am here to bring you to dinner service. Perhaps you have forgotten? You seem to be engrossed in our literary offerings,” he answers plainly. 

Kunikida stays standing, but has walked further into the room, hands clasped behind him as he studies the books you chose with furrowed eyebrows. 

“I enjoy reading. Is that such a crime?”

“I am only surprised you were able to find this place. After His Majesty banned entry, most just ignore it as they pass by.”

You cock your head to the right. “I was curious about that. Why? It is a beautiful library—a sunlit treasure trove of knowledge. I would imagine most people would be clawing at the doors for just a glance, yet it is as barren and untravelled as the deserts in the West,” you muse.

 Your curiosity is only a mild interest until Kunikida’s gaze sharply turns away from yours, blatantly avoiding your poking and prodding. His averted eyes cause what little inquisitiveness you had just felt to balloon into a wave of eager investigation. 

“Kunikida.”

He adjusts his glasses and nervously glances at his timepiece. “We are going to be late if—”

“Kunikida.”

He sighs, relenting. 

“If nobody uses this place, why is it so well kept? There are no dirt patches or cobwebs, but the dust between pages suggests that no one has opened them for many years. ”

“If I were to make an educated guess…” Kunikida stops for a moment to think. “I would wager that His Majesty misses what it used to be, and is only trying to preserve the last of that magic. Though the memories here are much too vivid and much too painful for him to come back to.”

What it used to be… 

A flicker of something… a fleeting feeling… No. A memory. At the very back of your mind—

“But I do not think he will continue to do so.”

It vanishes, and you fall back to reality, grasping at nothing and nowhere. 

You shake yourself out of your daze, a bit peeved at the interruption, but curious all the same. 

“Do what? Preserve this place? You believe he will let it just… crumble to ruins?”

Kunikida takes a seat and folds his gloved hands together. The lines on his forehead appear as he tenses, preparing his next words with careful precision. He works his jaw, tension releasing and forming with each movement, as if he is warring internally, fighting to either let the words out or keep it in. 

You hope he chooses the former. The more information, the better. 

His expression settles and a stern look replaces his calm visage. Whatever he has to say must be serious.

You catch yourself tapping the side of your thigh anxiously under the table and clamp your fingers down on your leg… hard. Your father did always say that a royal must be poised and perfect, and he made it extremely clear that such emotions were to be erased and forgotten. 

And if they weren’t… 

A chill runs down your spine at the memories.

“I am well aware that you are, and pardon my candor, untrustworthy.”

You almost snort. Not the first time you’ve heard that and it certainly won’t be the last.

Kunikida continues. “But I believe it is only right to tell you as His Majesty’s spouse. King Dazai is… he is…” Kunikida pauses as he fumbles for the right word. 

A clock ticks. Kunikida settles on a phrase. 

“Unwell. A disease of the mind and heart that has stolen his will. He is here only to serve a purpose and that purpose is not to live out the rest of his life. He exists, but for years now he has not been… here. Almost as if one wrong move and the line His Majesty balances upon disappears and takes him with it.”

Time slows. The air thickens. Are you breathing?

“Slowly but surely, he is fading away,” Kunikida pauses and swallows as he tries to work out his next words. 

“Some days I believe he is better. Most days I do not allow myself to indulge in such a lie.”

—

˚ · . tags: @zjarrmiii @aiizenn @emyyy007 @letsliveagaintoday @bejeweledgirl @nat-the-gayass-down-bad-mf

[starrynightarchive]

summary:

"i’m in love with you."

this is the third time you’ve had this revelation. and all three times, you’ve held a sword in your hand. how terrible.

why you should read it:

I'll be honest with you this was not planned. At All. I saw a fukufuku manga panel and was like. that's IT enough is enough. and wrote this when I'm supposed to be studying. this is a very short read, just 1k and i like to think i did the tragic old men yaoi justice. it's also in second person pov so if that's your jam, check it out. here's an excerpt:

[slugidiot]

Apesar de Você - Chico Buarque

Translation: You will pay and it will be doubled... || ...for every tear shed in this pain of mine. || But despite you... || ...Tomorrow will be another day.

[idontevenknowifimahumanornot]

What will bsd react when you were drunk

!WARNING : mention of self harm and do the non existing!

Idea : bsd react if you are drunk [ft. Traumatized reader

Couple : dazai x gn! Reader

Part (1/?)

You, a joyfull and loving figure to them.

you, the smiling image in theyre dreams.

you, the calm and resposible one even if the scenerio is cruel.

You, the one who knows theyre moods, jokes, theyre likes, dislike, theyre feelings.

And you, whom have shattered into million pieces and was held by your own hand. And that hand sadly slip because of a drink.

It was odd, atleast for you. dazai have invited you to go on a drink after a rather dificult mission.

You dont want to accept it really–you've been mentally and physicly tired, but yet you gladly accept.

Many suicidal thoughts was running throught your head as your changing in your apartment, it was hard to brush it off as you were, and utterly, tired.

You and him met at small yet calming in some odd way bar.

You and dazai sat in a comfortable silince, occasionally taking a sip and do a little small talk.

"Why did you invite me?" You ask casually, gaze was front to the closets of bottles. Your hand was swirling the glass at hand that was half way finish

"Hm? Because i can!" Dazai answer with a grin, he turn to look at you expecting your ussual soft smile looking at you or your adorbly cute annoyed face that also grace dazai by your gaze.

But no, he was met by a unusual sceen.

Your cheeks was dusted pink from alcohol, you forgot you dont have a high tolarence.

Your eyes seem so dull, so dull it hurt dazai. It reminds him of his old self, your usual resting face now look empty– cold and unforgiving in some way

It wound him that his grin falter– that his usual careless posture tighten. His eyes that seem to gleam when he saw you was dull.

Dull like yours.

"Did you invited me because kunikida say no?" You started out again, your mouth seem like it was moving on its own.

Your hand stop from swirling the glass "if you did...than im a second choice than...hah..." your body slump to the table, the negatuve thoughts you felt startes to came back to you, harshly.

"..." dazai kept quite, didnt know what to do, why? Why cant he do something? Is it because..

You remind him so much like himself?

His mind began to panic–no. Not another him. One is already horible and traumatize enough, he–no, everyone in this fuck up world doesnt need another him.

He hate those dull eyes of your that infront of everyone was gleaming so bright it blinds him, he hates those lips that easily lifted for everyone even if its an enemy or a foe, he hate those aid kit that you like to carry for some reason, he hate how your hair shines in the beutufull moonlight.

He hates how you tricked him into beliving you were alright.

"Maybe....maybe i should...kill myself" as you utter that word, that slash dazai thoughts. He stand up making your drunk state confused.

You stare at the eyes that was attach to his bow head.

His bangs shifted as he raise, revealing his eyes that filled with so much overwhelming emotion that makes you sick and confused.

"Dont." He utter.

He looks angry, sad, confused all at ones.

It amuse your jumbled mind for some reason. You chuckle, yoy snicker you laugh.

"Pwuahahah! W-who...pfft! Who do you think you are? Buahahah!" You laugh, you dont know why but you laugh at his worriedness.

But in the darkest pits in your heart you felt disgusted. Him, dazai, commanding you to not kill yourself? Who does this hypocrite think he is?

You felt guilty. Guilty for laughing. Guilty for making dazai worried. Yet you fekt disgusted, disgusted about yourself, disgusted about the cuts in your thight that you. Didnt even relizing it. Was lining them with your finger.

You want to puke. Oh wait, you already did.

When you spills the content inside of you, you think this is a normal sight. But to dazai its a horror.

He tremble and catch your disgusting, tears from laughing (or crying), stained with puke clothes body into him.

As his tremble hand patted your head your breathe quicken and your sobs incorrect words

"Isamso taried. I want too–i weant to jwust dissapear....i...hate i hate it!!! Why cant i be someone first choice...why am i always the second? Why cant people appreciate mu effort? My feelings? Why cant they just–" you rsmble you scream you weep and let yourself cracked in dazai hands.

As you calm down (and dazai recovering) you faint.

'Ah,' you thought. 'This is better from cutting'

-mf will be so fucking confused and scared because of how well you hide it and how you absaloutely shatter from just a half glass of alcohol😭

-will not know what to do and just, hurt him self (repeatedly) from picking your shattered pieces.

-probably will not let you touch alcahol since this accident and with appointed you to EVERY THERAPY he ever encounter,

-funny thing, kunikida catch a glimpse of dazai making a therapy appointment and was absalouteky livid and proud that he told the agency to trow a party, and when he arrives and they surprise him. He told that "oh, its not for me its for [name]"

-very out of characther for him ngl lol☝️

-if you got comfused by the end, you (as in reader) used self hsrm as a way to cope your pain

[frankenjoly]

No good in goodbyes

fukumori + things you said i wish you hadn’t & after it was over

“And so, it’s over.” Such words weren’t a declaration, but sounded resigned instead; a sentiment which Fukuzawa could very much relate to for he was feeling the exact same. It was indeed over.

The fight. Their partnership. Their relationship.

(Not like the feelings weren’t still there, but how to make it work, when neither he nor Mori would back down when it came to their stances right then? When he couldn’t look away from that specific matter? When, even if he did, something else would come along eventually?)

“It’s over.” Fukuzawa repeated, in a tone that perfectly mirrored Mori’s. At that point, Ranpo would have managed to leave the building with Yosano, so there was no use in continuing anyway. Not when his now ex-partner couldn’t get to the girl, not when they were both exhausted, physically and emotionally. “Sorry.” Not about the choice he had made, but how things had turned out more in general.

Even if something like that counted as foretold right from the start.

“Stop.” Mori said, speaking to him but staring away and at Elise, who was now ‘turning’ back from combat mode into her usual disposition. Her demeanor, though, kept being somewhat serious, fitting for the situation.

(That felt even worse.)

“I–” Impassible as he may look, there was no missing how Fukuzawa’s voice faltered. “Goodbye.”

There might not be tears yet or when he finally turned around to leave, not until late at night, after the whole weight of it all fully kicked in. But there was a lump in his throat, and what seemed like an invisible heavy grip on his chest through it all.

And it showed, damn if it showed.

(Also on ao3.)

[crowscadence]

Ranpo better not be dead but if he is can you imagine how hard that’ll hit Fukuzawa. First he lost his friend, then Ranpo. How much of a father/son relationship they have is up to interpretation (still after reading Untold Origins I feel like it’s pretty damn close) but there’s no denying Ranpo means a lot to him