#could both kill me with a toothbrush but look at these bbys

[contact-right]

"I'm glad you're my team leader."

[coruscantguard]

Well-Intentioned Sentences

Summary:

Clone Trooper Challi is killed in action in early 20BBY.

His novel is published eight months later.

(Ao3 Link)

Excerpt from the novel Avenge the Nation Above, written by Juasiz Maffess in the year 20BBY

"I am unarmed," Hainnip pleads, "I am beaten. I do not ask for mercy, but I beg of you, return my body to my family, and let them be." Hainnip pauses, breathes heavy. His eyes don't leave your feet. "Enough blood has been spilled, don't you agree?"

And-- you find yourself wavering at a precipice, your duty to the dead warring with the honor the living demand. Because the truth is that yes, you are tired, yes, you want this done. You're holding your vibrosword up, ready to kill, but you can feel the way you're trembling with exhaustion, with the relief of it being over, finally being over. You stare down at Hainnip-- your friend, your enemy, the man who's haunted both your best and worst dreams for years-- and you can feel your sword arm lowering--

And then you see the decorative jade pendant that used to dangle off of Kelou's hallikset gleaming on Hainnip's belt.

For a moment, the world turns red.

You remember how Kelou's cursing had taken on a whole new level of viciousness when Hainnip ripped his talisman off of his hallikset. Kelou was furious that Hainnip would dare take it as a trophy, vowed retribution, and Hainnip had responded to that by killing him.

Right here, right now, you realize that you are furious that it was taken as a trophy, that this demagolka stole both your chosen brother's talisman and life, and dares still to wear the former.

There is a swirling whirlpool of rage that's pulling you down, and as it beats in your chest, your heart burns. Your heart burns just as Kelou's body did on the pyre, burns just like your hands did when you ignored the way the flames licked at your hands and took his hallikset out so you could then put your own queterra in it's place. You'd watched the spiritual instrument you'd had since you were an infant go up in flames with dry eyes, because you knew you wouldn't need it anymore, would never play again now that the one who knew the sound of your heart is dead. You'd stood there, and watched Kelou burn, his hallikset clutched in your burnt hands, a song you'd never get to hear again.

You stand here now, sword at the ready, and your heart burns. You stand here now, and your eyes are dry, and you want this to be over, but Force hells, it seems like this will never be over. Because while the war might be won, there is no end to the fight, because your brother was betrayed, and your heart is still pumping with your rage.

You think this, you feel this, and moments later you are watching as Hainnip's body goes slack on the other end of your blade and his spirit joins the Force.

20 BBY, The Fortitude

Kall stares down at the holopad in his hands, tries to scroll to the next page. Fails, but-- no, that can't be the conclusion. It can't be. Challi wouldn't have ended it there. He's always been an di'kut who loves happy endings. Kall tries to find the next page again. And then he fails again.

“Well, kark,” he says, the words a little too rough, a little too real. He breathes in, breathes out. Swallows. He feels a little bit like he just got the wind knocked out of him, and it takes effort to tear his eyes away from the words, and look at Tice instead. “Kark. Karking hell. Is that seriously how it ends?”

Tice huffs, because Tice is a brat of a shiny who's just asking to scrub the mess hall with his toothbrush. “He didn’t exactly get to finish it, you know,” he replies, the words pointed. His tone of voice implies what he's not saying pretty clearly, and Kall bites back his anger at the easygoing tone, braces himself against the pang of grief that follows on it's heels. "This is where he ended it, and unless you want me to change it--"

"Absolutely not," Kall interrupts. His fingers tighten around the holopad against his will, which is ridiculous. He knows Tice isn't going to try and take it from him, knows he won't make changes unless Kall gives him express permission. There's no reason he should hold onto the 'pad like it's a lifeline. He needs to kriffing stop. Hell, even if Tice was a danger, he knows he could take him with one hand tied behind his back. "Kark."

Tice just watches him silently, the little weirdo. What is even up with these newer generations? There's no way Kall was this flippant as a shiny, no way he was as stupidly daring. If Tice had any sense, he would've delivered the holopad to Kall, and then taken the kark off.

It's not exactly a secret that Kall and Challi were chosen brothers. Anyone with sense would respect that, wouldn't try and stick their nose where it doesn't karking belong.

Karking shinies.

"You said there was a way to get this published under a pseudonym?" Kall asks

Tice nods enthusiastically. "Yeah! I've got an in with the Corries, and they--"

Kall holds up a hand, cutting him off. Karking idiot. "Do you want your contact to get reconditioned? Because that can happen. You keep running your mouth like that, and that will happen. I asked a yes or no question. Don't give me information I don't want."

Tice blinks at him, eyes wide, like being discrete is a new concept to him. Karking hell, Kall thinks, and presses the palm of his hand to his forehead, attempts to ward off the incoming headache. "Got it. Yes. I'm shutting up now."

Kall rolls his eyes, and drags his hand down his face.

"Yes, I'd like to do that," Kall forces out once he can trust himself to open his mouth and not say something stupid. Or rude. Or cruel.

The words that he says are technically lies. He knows that. The truth is-- Kall doesn't want to publish Challi's work. He certainly doesn't want to publish it under a karking pseudonym. He wants to kriffing keep it to himself! Challi's writing is the only thing he has that truly belonged to his chosen brother, the only thing the GAR can't karking requisition back. Kall doesn't want to karking share that with anyone, wants to keep the last remnants of his vod in a kriffing lockbox that electrocutes anyone who even looks at it, but--

But he can't. He can't, because Challi wouldn't want that, and for all that Kall hates even thinking about giving Challi's writing away, he hates thinking about not doing so more. Challi wanted his work shared, dreamed of having people besides his fellow clones read it. Getting it published under a pseudonym could accomplish both of those goals at once.

Kall sighs, and stares back down at the holopad in his hands. Reads over the last line one more time, commits it to his memory, because it might not be like Challi to end his story on such a bleak note, but he died, so he did, so Kall just has to accept that. Live with it. Move on.

You think this, you feel this, and moments later you are watching as Hainnip's body goes slack on the other end of your blade and his spirit joins the Force.

"Alright," Kall says, "Right. Let's get to it, then. How do we get in touch with your contact?"

[imaginetho]

Hello there! I would like to ask a scenario for ada dazai who meets the reader and he falls really hard for her but he gets this job to find out who was behind the prime minister's murder ( lmao had to be powerful ) and he discovers it's actually the mafia reader? A fluff ending would be amazing but i just don't see it whatsoever so you do you? Maybe she doesn't want to fight him and they just share a long talk? Okay i am done now i promise

i think i have just the idea i see it so clearly and its too beautiful omf thank you for requesting bby i hope you like this! 

rly tho damn someone should write a movie about this i’d def watch it

also we are gonna assume that he already knew she was in the mafia, he just didn’t know what she was capable of bc lets be honest that man is smarter than that

Dazai was not the type of person to fall in love with someone so easily, so when he finally fell for you, he fell hard.

Loving someone meant trusting them, and trusting them meant not doubting them. Which is what he always have done with you, love you and trust you.

Except right now, all of that is being put to hold. 

Not knowing what to think or feel he just held the piece of paper in his hand, which had your name on it. All he knew at this moment is that the one responsible for killing the prime minister is none other than you.

He stood there for a full 5 minutes just staring at the piece of paper until the first and only thing to cross his mind was that he needed to see you.

It’s been almost 2 weeks since the two of you have actually seen each other, but that wasn’t so odd with the two of you. You both understood that no matter what, you still loved and cared about each other endlessly. You also understood that this was just the nature of your daily jobs.

Sometimes you would go two weeks without even calling each other, but that was still fine. You both knew that time never actually showed how much you truly loved someone or cared about them.

Dazai’s reasons to wanna see you all the time were everything but this. He hurriedly called your phone, but there was no answer. Not wanting to waltz in the Port Mafia unannounced he hoped you were at home.

Shoving the paper into his coat, he quickly started making his way to your apartment. It really did not help that the roads were crowded and the rain did not stop for anyone.

After half an hour of driving between the busy roads and the showers of rain with completely nothing but you on his mind, he was finally at the door of your apartment. 

He knocked on your door five times, no answer. He called your name, and still no answer. 

Were you sleeping? he wondered. 

Still, it’s like 8:30 pm and he never knew you for an early sleeper. Going for his last resort he tried opening your door and to his surprise it was unlocked.

Another thing he knew for sure right now is that he was worried. 

Why’d you keep your door unlocked? Did you flee? Is that what you’ve been doing for the past two weeks? Did your really leave him without even so much as an explanation, is this how much he mattered to you?

He walked in and found the lights off. In fact, all the lights were off. Except he noticed that your jacket was on the couch. If you really had fled, then you would have took all your clothes with you, right?

He walked more to observe what else is different, he walked in the bathroom and found that your toothbrush was still there, all of your things were still there in fact. 

He checked almost everywhere and it seemed like everything was still the same, nothing missing, nothing new. The only place he was yet to check was your bedroom.

He got closer to the door and put his ear to it. He could hear something, but he wasn’t sure what exactly. 

Slowly, he pushed the doorknob and opened it. He finally found you.

Your bedroom was also really dark with no lights turned on, he could barely make out your silhouette. 

You were curled up in bed, facing the wall and quietly crying. You didn’t even seem to notice someone just walked in on you, let alone your apartment door was unlocked.

Forgetting everything he knew right now, he ran by your side and put his hand in your hair, softly playing with it and putting it away from your face. 

“Shhh, I’m here now love, I got you.” he whispered, his hand still playing with your hair.

Your cries only grew stronger after hearing him say that, and your body only curled tighter. You were trembling and not wanting him to see your face, you kept it down. 

“I’m sorry.” you mumbled.

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

You grabbed his hand that was in your hair, and squeezed it gently before putting it away and sitting up to readjust yourself.

You wiped your tears away and looked him in the eyes. 

“If anyone saw me like this right now, they’d never think I’m capable of taking someone’s life, even though I have.” you chuckled.

You chuckled after saying that but he saw it. He saw it hurt you a lot more to actually say that than make you laugh. 

He didn’t say anything but remained on the floor watching you and waiting to hear you out.

“You know, even with me working in the Port Mafia, this is actually the first time I’ve ever killed someone. I always just hurt people but never actually took their own life.” you spoke with tears still pouring down your face.

You wiped them again and continued. “I’m not trying to justify what I did or say it wasn’t wrong, because it was. Although, even though I know it’s wrong and even though I regret it, I can’t say he didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t really the best person.”

“I just wish I wasn’t the one to do it.” you finished.

In fact you’ve spent those two weeks wallowing in regret and self hatred. You haven’t even been to work ever since then. You barely slept, you barely ate, just breathing seemed exhausting.

You hated yourself after doing this.

How can anyone even love me after doing that? you thought. 

You really cherished those times before you did what you did. Those times where you thought you weren’t such a horrible person, those times you could go on with your day without remembering that someone’s blood was on your hands.

Those times where Dazai loved you so much.

How can he love you now? After knowing what you did? You can’t even forgive yourself, how can anyone forgive you?

You’re glad you at least got to have someone love you for once.

“You made a mistake, people make mistakes. You did something and you regret it, but you learn from it.” he finally interrupted your thoughts and spoke out loud.

“But I killed a person! I made the selfish decision of deciding whether he gets to live or not.” you cried.

He smiled at you.

Even though Dazai was disappointed, he knew the regret of making huge mistakes. He knew what it felt to do something and feel like utter crap after it. He knew how it really felt to take away someone’s life and regret it.

He knew how you felt, which is why he can empathize and help you get through it. He was the last person to ever have the right to judge you, not when he too had made many mistakes in his life.

He too have done what you did before and even worse. He too have been where you are right now, he too thought he should give up on himself, on everything and think it’s too late to fix anything.

But that was until someone came along and told him to do the right thing. Someone still saw the good in him even when he couldn’t see it himself. Someone taught him that mistakes are made to be learnt from and not took as an example for who you truly are. 

Mistakes never defined a person and no one better than him knew that.

How can he let the person he loved the most go through what he’s gone through without trying to understand? Without trying to help?

He wasn’t ready to give up on you just yet, but he was ready to be your someone.

If someone took the time to actually see the good in him, then he sure as hell can see the good in you. He wasn’t any better than you, and he won’t forgive himself if he let you go this easily.

He stood up and brought his body closer to yours. He held you tight to his chest and let you cry on it. He noticed your body was still trembling from crying so much so he started caressing your back gently.

“I know it’s hard, but I promise, we’ll get through this together.” he whispered closely to your ears and then kissed the top of your head.

He held you in his arms the entire night, his hands roaming in your hair until you finally fell asleep.