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the-bloody-sadist · 11 months ago

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Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "the bloody sadist"?

YOU FUCKING BET!!!! I love having the opportunity to list my favorites for anything, though I'm also incredibly picky about fanfics, so I don't actually know (until I start scrolling my bookmarks and listing them) if I'll reach a whole 10 favorites!! But I might! (Note: these are in no particular order)

What I Want From You is Sweet by VampireFaun (Heaven Official's Blessing) [And basically every other work that she's written! But some of my other top favorites of hers are The Thing That Was Not His Highness and Beast With Two Backs]: When I can't get a fanfic out of my head, I usually end up drawing an illustration based on it, if I'm bold enough to risk depicting an author's precious words (rare). This is my MOST re-read fic and I won't ever stop. It doesn't help that VampireFaun/Deer is a WONDERFUL PERSON and I love her personality so much. She's an incredible writer!

Tenfold by dgalerab (Bungou Stray Dogs) : Baby's first fic! This was one of the writings that immediately roped me into the fanfic world. When I first was into it, I was under the impression that everyone just went there to write half-assed explorations of sex between characters, and that wasn't so appealing to me. When I discovered that some people can write entire 25-chapter PLOTS with the level of literacy that matches what I hoped to read??? I was hooked. Obviously you can see in this list that I have strong devotion to a handful of fic writers and my favorites are just the top best fics that I return to of their writing. If I find a great writer, I subscribe to them and go on a rampage of consumption through their list of fics, my fandom or not! Please consider doing the same for those authors that I mention like that!! You'll find so much gold. Everything by dgalerab is good in some way, I have almost all of their fics bookmarked. :') My only complaint about this particular story was that HOLY FUCK THE AUTHOR CUT SO MANY SCENES WAY TOO SHORT LMAO. Please let me have a full comfort scene for more than two paragraphs T_T I worked so hard for it. I cried so much. ANYWAY, STILL A HUGE INSPIRATION FOR WHAT I WENT ON TO WRITE!

What You Have Tamed by Parsnipit (Heaven Official's Blessing)

Love is Hard, Life Sucks by gev_ao3 (Bungou Stray Dogs) : A painful inspection of the nuances of domestic abuse. This one rang true to reality so much that I don't think I can re-read it without having a depressive episode. It's not finished, but it's Fyozai, and you know how I feel about that. Also side-plot SKK! I usually can't stand AUs, but this one fits the situations very well. It's the type of fic that only someone who knows a little too much about how abuse works on a victim can write.

Careful Fear and Dead Devotion by intimatopia (Trigun Stampede) : Yet another fic that I couldn't help but draw for! And intimatopia was kind enough to link it in his fic summary T_T - A super angsty sadomasochistic fic about Vash needing pain and Wolfwood needing to give it. If I don't list any other fics by him on here, it's because I'm such a huge enjoyer of his writing (one of my favorite fic authors), so nearly all of them that don't hit on personal triggers are in my favorites category. He's a master at pinning down the PERFECT depictions of characters that make them feel as canon as possible while also becoming more tangible and real. The ZhongXiao, AyaThoma and Kaeluc fics are incredible. Read them all! However, I will mention that one of his fics that first stuck with me was his Kaeluc AU Northbound & Reaching ! Carys has done a lot of BSD fics too, of which a few stick out to me like They Say You Gotta Fake It and that one Soul Eater AU he did where Dazai was a knife in Chuuya's drawer who gained a body. I DON'T KNOW WHERE IT WENT CUZ I CAN'T FIND IT TO LINK YOU BUT GO LOOK THROUGH ALL HIS FICS FOR IT. IT'S REALLY UNIQUE.

Top 5 works, I guess?? As I mentioned several times while gushing, three of these account for entire lists of the author's works that you should enjoy if we share the same taste! VampireFaun, dgalerab, and intimatopia are my top fic authors, and I've read everything they've posted as long as it didn't contain anything personally triggering - and have learned about new fandoms even! Also, Alaruya didn't make it on this list, but they have a Fyozai fic that really inspired me with its imagery and language. I link it in my Sinner fanfic if you're interested!

I have quite a few other random fics I enjoy, but most were from a Heaven Official's Blessing craze recently and then BSD works that inspired me in some way, but they're not very unique or long, so I felt like this was the best collection to list. Most any fic that explores Dazai struggling with self-harm or neediness or asexuality has my attention. It just has to be written well!

AS FAR AS MY NAME - YOU'RE THE FIRST TO ASK THAT QUESTION! I'm a big fan of...how to explain...slightly dehumanizing titles?? Something that isn't really a name, but a description of me in some way. Something that makes me feel mysterious and yet also gives everyone who reads it an idea of the type of works I'm creating. Of course, my main personality trait is being sadistic, and I love the word sadist, and I love putting THE in front of literally any title because I DON'T KNOW LMAO...I'm THE ONE. That kinda thing. I'M THE GUY!! YEAH I'M THE BLOODY SADIST GUY! THAT ONE! I also love smashing words together, so I was like, I can't just be THE sadist....what else do I like....and that's about it. If I name myself I tend to have trouble ever using anything else in reference to me, so Sadist has stuck from the very beginning. It's going to be very hard to part with that name once I publish a novel and have to use a first and last name...

THANKS FOR THE ASK!! I HOPE YOU ENOY THOSE RECS.

#sadist’s answered asks #fanfic recs #favorite fics #favorite authors

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sickficideas · 1 year ago

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Hiya! May I request sick Chuuya and the flags take care of him?

ANON !!! I FINALLY GOT A GOOD BIT INTO STORMBRINGER...i got WAYYY too attached oh my god i love them all so much. i hope you like this fic i had fun writing it!!!

just a dream || chuuya + the flags sickfic (+ skk)

ao3! 5k words, sickfic, stormbringer light novel spoilers - please refer to the link for additional tags!

"I'm comin' in. Hide your girlfriends."

Chuuya groans, holding a pillow over his head. It's far too early in the morning for this. The morning light hasn't even fully flooded his room yet. He’s not entirely sure how Albatross got into his apartment to begin with, but either way, he wasn’t invited.

"Or boyfriends! I don't discriminate. You know, me and D-"

"Stop! Stop, I don't wanna know," Chuuya exclaims, loud enough to drown out the rest of Albatross's sentence in case he decided to keep going. He had plans with Albatross this morning, he thinks. Something work-related that he can't quite place right now. But they were supposed to meet at work.

Chuuya got up at some point in the middle of the night to throw up. He hardly remembers it at all, but he just barely made it to the toilet. He remembers making a few texts about not being able to come into work this morning, and one of those texts apparently went to Albatross.

"Wake up! A hangover never stopped any of us," Albatross exclaims proudly, his voice suddenly sounding much closer. Chuuya's arms are weak, he doesn't have the energy to hold the pillow over his head, and he doesn't care enough to use his ability. Albatross takes the pillow and uncovers him, and clicks his tongue at the sight. "Oh, shit, kid. You really did it this time, huh?"

"I'm not hungover," Chuuya groans, reaching an arm back out for the pillow. Albatross hands it back, but only lets him tuck it against his chest. Chuuya holds it close to him with a weak groan.

"Could'a fooled me," Albatross jokes.

"I'm serious," Chuuya grumbles, letting his eyes travel up to Albatross's face. "It's - a cold, or something."

Albatross still looks suspicious, landing a hand on his hip. He leans forward and reaches for Chuuya's forehead with his free hand.

"Sheesh, kid. You're really runnin' a fever there," he says with a click of his tongue. He pushes his sunglasses up to the top of his head, giving Chuuya a rare glimpse at his eyes. He really wishes he’s put them back on. He doesn’t like how concerned he looks. "How long you been feelin' sick for, huh?"

"Just…just since last night," Chuuya murmurs, dropping his gaze. He doesn't see the point in lying to him. He doesn't even really remember feeling sick the night before, it really only hit him that time he woke up.

"You stayin' home today?" Albatross asks.

"Uh-huh," Chuuya murmurs. He only looks at him for a second but he can't handle the worry on his face. It doesn't look right. He's never seen him make that face. "Told everyone I needed to already."

"Good. Cause it'd be crap to work when you don't feel good," Albatross says, sounding relieved. "I'll call Doc for ya. I'm sure -"

"No, please - please don't," Chuuya murmurs. "Don't tell anyone."

Albatross tilts his head.

"I just…it's not a big deal. I'll be fine tomorrow," Chuuya huffs, turning his face into his pillow. He hopes Albatross will just leave Chuuya to sleep this off, but he's not sure he'll get too lucky this time. His body betrays him and forces out a few coughs that are muffled by the pillow. He can’t tell if that’s part of his illness or if he’s just starting to feel nauseous again.

"Alright, alright. I've gotta call someone if you don't get better, though, got it?" Albatross tells him. “Lemme get you some water. You gotta stay hydrated, kid.”

Albatross disappears from Chuuya’s bedroom, and Chuuya groans into his pillow before he turns his body around, facing away from the door.

He hears Albatross talking to himself in Chuuya’s kitchen, which isn’t unusual at all for him - the guy has a hard time keeping things to himself, no matter the content. Chuuya thinks he hears his name at some point, but now that he’s starting to wake up some more, he’s starting to feel nauseous again.

The saliva starts to pool in his mouth and he groans at the feeling, starting to panic just a bit. He doesn’t want Albatross to see him throw up. He doesn’t want anyone to see him sick at all, it’s humiliating enough as it is, but this would just make things so much worse.

He's swallowing saliva, something he can’t do much longer because he feels his stomach pushing up and trying to get something up his esophagus. He knows he's going to throw up, but he can't move. He's so sore and achy. He tries to force himself to sit up, but he can hardly keep himself propped up with his weak and shaky arms.

Chuuya's stomach lurches without time for him to better prepare and he feels something splash into the back of his throat. He gags, hard, all the muscles in his abdomen contracting to bring something up, a thin stream of pale, digested contents from his stomach. He groans, his free arm wrapped tight around his middle, eyes screwed shut. It hurts.

“Shit, Chuuya…” he hears from behind him. His stomach twists and he starts to breathe heavy, hoping that getting more air in will somehow quell his nausea, but it only makes it worst. He’s just a billion times more anxious now with someone watching him and now he can’t get anything else up. He wants to cry, but he can’t imagine doing that while he’s already puking.

"Just get it up, kid. Sheets are super easy to clean," he feels the mattress shift as Albatross climbs on next to him with a gentle hand on his back. "Don't breathe so hard. Breathe gentle and it'll come up."

He tries, he really does, taking deep, calculated breaths through his mouth, trying to not focus on the fact that he’s not alone right now. Just a few breaths later, a wave of Chuuya's partially undigested dinner comes pouring out of his mouth. Chuuya coughs and gags through it, eyes screwed shut.

“There ya go,” Albatross says.

He leans over the puddle that’s started to pool in his sheets, hoping that anything else will make an appearance quickly so he doesn’t have to struggle much longer. He burps a few times in some effort to get more up, and one particularly wet belch brings up another wave of pale vomit, followed by a pained whimper.

From there, his stomach calms down just a bit. He still feels nauseous, but not enough to puke again, at least for the time being. He doesn’t remember it hurting this much last night, but maybe he’s already sore from that incident.

He groans, wishing he could just melt into the mattress and disappear. He really doesn’t feel good. He’s glad his fevered middle-of-the-night brain made the right call and decided to not come to work.

"You're gonna have to let me call somebody to bring you some meds," Albatross says as he slides the soiled sheet off of Chuuya’s bed, clearing him to lie back down. "I don't have nothin’ and I doubt you do either."

"Fine," he murmurs quietly, curling in on himself and taking that same pillow from before to hold against his aching stomach. The pressure does help a little bit.

“You got extra comforters anywhere?” Albatross asks, and Chuuya barely manages to lift up an arm to point toward a closet at the corner of the room, where Albatross wastes no time in finding something to cover Chuuya with. He feels a shiver take over his body even after Albatross lays the comforter over him. The last thing he needs is to deal with the chills.

Evidently, though, throwing up tired him out so much that he starts to fall asleep before he can further agonize about his situation.

…

"Special delivery!" Chuuya hears. He doesn’t pay much attention to who it could be at first, but it’s not Albatross. It’s further away, far from his bedroom door. He groans, wishing he had stayed asleep.

It's Pianoman's voice, he thinks. He starts to tense up at the realization that someone else is here now, and his stomach starts to cramp again. He's gotten used to Albatross seeing him ill, but now he's going to have to be okay with others, too.

He decides his best course of action is to pretend to be asleep, not that it will be too difficult. He’s starting to realize he feels worse than before. His stomach hurts from the nausea but the soreness too, and his head swims and spins at the slightest movement.

He hears their footsteps come closer. There’s a third set, too, so it’s not just Pianoman. He curls up tighter in the center of his bed with a pained groan, tucking his face back under a pillow. Go home, he wants to tell them. He’s fine. He just needs to sleep it off. He doesn’t want anyone’s help.

"I think he's asleep. I'll give it to him when he wakes up," Albatross says quietly right outside the bedroom door, and Chuuya sighs in relief, thinking he’s avoided a crisis for now.

He wonders what time it is. It seems Albatross has pulled down the blinds, so any sunlight to tell him the time of day is blocked out. He’s tempted to get up and see, or at least reach over to grab his cell phone, but he really doesn’t even have the energy to do that.

He lies still for a few moments, but with the way his stomach is turning, he’s not sure if he’ll be able to fall asleep any time soon. He’s hungry, but too nauseous to even think about food. That’s the worst kind of feeling.

"Hey. I know you're awake, Chuuya," Pianoman says, his voice suddenly beyond Chuuya’s bedroom door. His voice is gentle, not accusatory, so Chuuya doesn’t feel as anxious - but he still doesn’t want anyone to see him. "I think it'd be better if you took this medicine sooner rather than later with how you're feeling."

Chuuya doesn’t move. Maybe he can trick Pianoman, but he quickly realizes that’s a foolish thought. He couldn’t ever trick Pianoman.

He hears a plastic bag rustle, and Pianoman sits on Chuuya’s king mattress. “I have some nausea medicine for you too. Albatross told me your stomach’s been bothering you.”

Chuuya doesn’t like that Pianoman knows about that, but at this point, he would rather get his nausea under control than worry about his image. He begrudgingly turns over so that Pianoman knows he’s not hiding anymore. When their eyes meet, he watches Pianoman’s brow furrow.

“I know I look like shit,” Chuuya mumbles, surprised at how hoarse his voice sounds. He hasn’t been coughing all that much.

“I wonder how you caught this,” Pianoman says, taking three medicine bottles out and setting them down on Chuuya’s nightstand, along with two cups of water that he apparently brought with him. “Two of these are liquid, sorry. But they tend to work better, I’ve noticed.”

Chuuya doesn’t care much, as long as they’ll help. He forces himself up, and Pianoman reaches out an arm to help him - the touch makes Chuuya freeze up. “Relax. I’m just trying to help.”

Chuuya groans and lets him. Pianoman props up a few of his pillows at the headrest and helps Chuuya lean against that, that way he’s sitting up but still comfortable, and he’s grateful for Pianoman’s thoughtfulness, but he keeps his eyes low. He’s hoping that avoiding eye contact will make him forget about this faster.

“I feel like this one always gives me awful nightmares,” Pianoman says with a huff as he hands Chuuya a cup of medicine, which he takes like a shot with no issue. The taste is artificial fruit and bitter, but if he imagines it’s more like alcohol, it’s not as unbearable. "Do you get nightmares?"

"No," Chuuya murmurs. "I don't dream at all."

"I thought I heard you say that before. Might be a good thing, then. A lot of people get bad nightmares when they have fevers like you do, even without medicine," Pianoman says. "Lippmann does."

That seems like an intimate detail to know about someone, especially to share with others, but he doesn't say anything.

“We’ve all seen each other sick. You don’t need to hide from us,” Pianoman assures him. Chuuya realizes that’s the point he was trying to make, but he still can’t meet his gaze. He just takes the next cup of medicine and downs it, but this time, his stomach twists. This one tastes much worse. He thinks this one might make him vomit even if he wasn’t ill. He presses a hand up to his mouth and Pianoman is quick enough to recognize the situation - he’s holding a trash bin under Chuuya’s chin, allowing him to choke up the medicine he just swallowed, that never had a chance of staying down at all.

His stomach still tries to get more up, even though he’s sure that the only thing left in his system was the medicine he just swallowed. The way his abdominal muscles squeeze together against his sore stomach hurts so much he can hardly take it. He’s ashamed. He’s dealt with injuries far worse than a little stomachache, but this hurts so bad that tears prick at his eyes.

"It's okay. I know it hurts," he tells him gently, tucking Chuuya’s hair behind his ears as it threatens to get caught in the saliva that’s starting to form strings from his mouth. "You don't have to hold back your tears for any of us, Chuuya."

“But, I…” he starts, cut off by a pained groan. He spits up the salvia that’s gathered in his mouth.

“I know. Your whole body’s sensitive right now ‘cause of that fever you’re running. And throwing up with nothing in your stomach hurts. Trust me, I know,” Pianoman tells him. “I don’t blame you at all.”

Chuuya lets his tears fall, and he whimpers from the pain he’s in.

He seems to only get worse from there. He doesn’t have enough energy to hold himself up properly anymore, even with the propped-up pillows, so once he thinks he’s done gagging, Pianoman helps him lie back down. He can’t stop his tears, they darken spots on his pillow. He feels so sick. He wishes he could just fall asleep again. He doesn’t want anyone to see him.

He quickly finds out Lippman was the third person who entered his apartment, and the concern taking over his face as soon as he sees Chuuya from the doorway is too much for him to handle. He can’t imagine how awful he must look, especially now that he’s been crying. He’s so pathetic.

“Albatross, that’s far too wet to put on his forehead. You need to wring some of that water out,” he hears Lippmann say after Chuuya stuffs his face back into a pillow to avoid being seen. “Here, let me see it.”

“Always stealin’ my thunder, huh, Lippmann…” Albatross says, clicking his tongue.

“This isn’t thunder. This is a monsoon,” he says, supposedly waving the soaked cloth around.

Soon enough, he feels a hand gently turn his head so he’s looking at the ceiling, and Lippmann lays a cool, folded washcloth over Chuuya’s forehead. It feels incredible. For just a second, he feels like he’s cured, but of course, it’s never that easy. He lets his eyes fall shut and tries to take the opportunity to relax.

Lippmann smooths down Chuuya's hair, something he would normally be greatly opposed to but it feels nice. Lippmann's hands are always ice cold. He thinks Lippmann is sitting beside him on the bed, which for some reason, he’s not opposed to. He’s trying to relax. Every breath makes him more sore. He groans from the pain and turns his head to the side, only to be turned back up by Lippmann.

"I called Doc. He should be on his way soon," Pianoman says as he enters the room. Chuuya didn’t even realize he was gone. "Definitely wouldn't hurt to get some IV fluids in you. I'm sure you're dehydrated."

"Poor thing," Lippman says with a sigh, a hand of his on Chuuya’s clammy cheek. "Let me see a thermometer, Piano. He feels much warmer."

“I couldn’t find one earlier,” Pianoman says. “I told Albatross to go look at his place. Let me go make sure he still remembers what I asked him to do.”

Pianoman disappears again too, but Lippmann stays, still smoothing down Chuuya’s hair. He tries to shift himself onto his side to get more comfortable, and he realizes just how much sweat is covering his body. The hair framing his face feels like it’s stuck to his skin.

Chuuya hears his phone buzz in the nightstand. It’s a buzz different from the normal notifications, because it’s Dazai. That son of a bitch gets his own special one.

“Lippmann?” Chuuya croaks, his eyes barely about to make it up to his face. “Can you…can you hand me my phone?”

“Of course. In the nightstand here?” Lippmann confirms and Chuuya manages a nod. He gently hands him the phone.

Chuuya’s eyes take a few seconds longer than normal to adjust to its brightness, and Lippmann briefly leans over to turn it down for him while he’s still getting used to it. He groans when he sees the message on the screen, and he replies almost right away without thinking much of it.

He sees Dazai open the message, but to his surprise, he doesn’t get a reply. He groans. Why on earth would Dazai message him anyway? Why does it matter to him where he is?

“Is this the Boss’s kid you’re texting?” Lippmann asks, his head tilted. Lippmann knows that Dazai isn’t actually Mori’s son, but that's what the Flags call Dazai.

Chuuya just groans and nods. He closes his phone for a moment. Half of him just wants to block Dazai’s number, even though in his defense, he’s just asking a rather innocent question.

“I saw him very early this morning on my way to meet with the Boss. He asked me where you were. That was before Albatross called us,” Lippmann says. “It doesn’t hurt to tell him. Maybe that way he won’t bother you, if that’s what you want.”

Chuuya huffs. He’s not sure how he feels about Lippmann��s claim that Dazai would ask where he is. Would he even really care? Chuuya doesn’t think so, but it’s strange that Dazai would ask Lippmann that, and even directly text Chuuya on top of it.

He groans again, long and annoyed, before he opens his phone to send another message.

He lets his phone slip from his hands, and Lippmann takes it and puts it back in the drawer for him - and it’s not long until he hears the others come back too.

Chuuya really doesn’t feel well.

He can’t rely much on his senses at the moment. He feels himself cough every now and then, but it almost feels numb, like his body forces him to do it. The last thing he can clearly hear from any of them is his temperature - a hundred and three point one, only because Lippmann makes it a point to make sure Chuuya can hear him. Chuuya never measured his fever to begin with, but he know it wasn’t that high. That’s not good.

It feels as if he only shuts his eyes for a moment, but when he opens them again, Doc has entered his field of vision. It looks like he’s talking to someone else, but he can't hear anything.

He feels someone tugging on his arm, and another smoothing down his hair. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on. He feels his chest tighten up and he wants to get away. His body tenses up and he’s waiting for Doc to leave an opening for Chuuya to get away, but he doesn’t. He turns his head and makes eye contact with Chuuya, and smiles. Doc kind of has a creepy smile, and it’s difficult to tell if it’s genuine most of the time, but Chuuya finds this one reassuring. He relaxes.

No one here is going to hurt him. He’s safe with them.

…

When Chuuya wakes up again, he feels like a new person.

His ears feel clear. He can hear the mattress when he shifts his weight, something he would never imagine being grateful to hear. He hears someone else breathing, and somehow, he has the energy to push himself up.

Doc is leaned against the wall in a chair from Chuuya’s kitchen. Reading from some impossibly large textbook that Chuuya almost thinks must be too heavy for his frail arms, he doesn’t notice Chuuya’s movements, or he at least doesn’t acknowledge them.

Chuuya sneaks a hand into the drawer beside his nightstand to fish out his phone to check the time, and he sees a message from Dazai.

Chuuya wasn't expecting a sort-of-nice message from him. He almost thinks for a moment this isn’t really Dazai, but he’s distracted by movement from Doc.

“Heheh…good morning, Chuuya,” he says, lowering the textbook down to the floor. Chuuya knows it’s not really morning, now, his phone said something close to seven in the evening, but he wouldn’t be surprised if Doc was being serious. He doesn’t strike him as the kind of guy to have a good sleep schedule.

Doc stands up and drags the chair behind him over to Chuuya’s bedside, and Chuuya moves closer to the edge, assuming Doc’s intention is to check him over. Chuuya doesn’t want to make him stand, he knows he can’t do that for very long. Chuuya’s eyes follow Doc’s IV line up to a pole that’s standing beside Chuuya’s bed, with an extra bag of fluids on a line extending down to Chuuya’s forearm.

“We’re matching,” Doc says with his usual off-putting smile, meeting Chuuya’s gaze. Chuuya’s never asked him why he always has that thing, but maybe he’s more content with not knowing.

“Guess that thing’s kinda handy,” Chuuya says as he lays back. His voice is still pretty hoarse. He tries to clear it, and Doc offers him a glass of water that’s been on his nightstand. He starts to wonder where the others have run off to, and the door opens, revealing the missing Flag.

"You look a little better now," Iceman says to him as he walks over. Doc doesn’t turn his head, so Chuuya assumes he’s known that Iceman has been here. "Compared to what I saw when I got here."

"Where is everyone?" Chuuya asks before Doc slides a thermometer under his tongue.

"Passed out in your living room,” Iceman says bluntly.

“Albatross sent us all a photo of Lippmann and Pianoman sleeping together, heh,” Doc recalls with an amused grin before he takes the thermometer back.

“In my apartment? Ew,” Chuuya groans. “What’s it say?”

Doc had already laid the thermometer down on the table, and he leans over to refer back to it to answer Chuuya’s question. “One hundred point seven. Much better than earlier.”

Chuuya’s relieved to hear that. He was really worrying this was something he was going to be suffering from all weak, but Doc seems to have worked his magic on him. Chuuya wished he had given in to calling him over sooner.

“We already notified everyone who needed to know that you’ll be off tomorrow, too.” Iceman tells him, wandering over to the window to open up the blinds and let some of the evening light in. Another one had already been opened up.

“Tomorrow? No way, I’ll be fine by then,” Chuuya grumbles, looking over to Doc for backup.

“I don’t recommend it. Unless you’re fond of fainting on the job,” Doc says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Just one extra day to get your energy back. You’ll live,” Iceman says. “You should take any days off you can get, Chuuya. Take it from us.”

Maybe if they’re all here, it won’t be so bad.

“I’m putting an injection into your fluid line here…might make you tired…” Doc says, pushing a syringe full of a clear substance into the line, and Chuuya feels the effects almost right away.

“Just don’t go anywhere…” Chuuya murmurs as his eyes start to fall shut. His mouth betrayed him by admitting thoughts he didn’t want to share with the room, but he sees faint smiles from both of them before he loses his battle with the drowsiness.

…

"You finally up?"

Chuuya wasn't expecting to hear Dazai's voice.

He forces himself to sit up, and he's in a different bedroom. He’s done so far too quickly, it seems, because his head swims and tilts his world sideways so much that he nearly faints, but he forces himself to stay upright on the bed.

Dazai is standing right at the end of it. He looks perplexed, and Chuuya can’t figure out why, but Chuuya’s even more confused. Dazai looks different. His eyes don't look so dark. He looks taller, somehow. He’s not wearing his usual getup. He’s wearing a bolo tie. Why the hell is he wearing a bolo tie?

"Where's…" Chuuya murmurs. He can’t quite remember what he was going to say.

"Where's who? It's just me here," Dazai says, the confusion in his eyes only deepening as he makes his way over to the side of the bed.

Chuuya's stomach drops. He doesn't understand what's going on.

"Hey, hey. What are you so worked up about?" Dazai asks him, and the tiny hint of concern in his nonchalant attitude is freaking him out. Dazai hadn’t texted him that he was coming over. Why is he here? Why would he show up?

"I was just…I just, um…" Chuuya starts mumbling as he scrambles to get to the edge of the bed he’s on, "they were all here. You were at…they…"

"Bad dream?" Dazai says, a hesitant hand reaching out towards Chuuya’s. That’s not like him. Why is he so confused?

"What…?" Chuuya starts, just then registering Dazai’s words. That's not possible. Chuuya doesn't dream. He's never had a dream. Chuuya swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands up despite his head’s protests, and he’s relieved to see Doc’s face, back where he was, leaned against the wall.

But he hears blood dripping.

And when he lowers his gaze, just a bit, it seems his brain omitted the fact that the lower half of Doc’s body is missing. There’s nothing below his torso, nothing but a growing pool of blood.

Chuuya screams.

…

"You blacked out on me again," Dazai says. His voice is gentle, as Chuuya wakes up again, once again in a different room. It feels more familiar this time. He’s in a living room, and he thinks it’s his. “Your fever’s worse. I took you out here, it’s kinda warm in your bedroom.”

"Sorry," he mumbles. He can't muster up energy for much else. His body aches. He looks for any signs of the Flags. The IV pole. Lippmann’s hand on his forehead. The medication Pianoman brought home for him. None of it is there.

Was any of that real? Was he hallucinating? It’s happened before, when he gets high fevers, but this one felt so real. It was almost like he just experienced it, in real life, and then suddenly he fell asleep for several years - and now he’s back in the present.

Was it a dream?

"I wanna go ride," Chuuya murmurs. Dazai’s hand is on his cheek. He pulls it away and sits back on the coffee table, that same look of confusion taking over his face again.

"Your bike?" Dazai asks.

"Uh-huh," he says.

"No-can-do, buddy. You can barely stand up," Dazai reminds him with a half-smile, hints of concern still visible.

Chuuya’s head turns in his direction. His chest feels tight. "'S not my bike."

Dazai still looks confused. "Yeah?"

"'S Albatross's bike," Chuuya barely manages. He still feels his cold hand in his. He knows they’re all dead, it’s beyond him why he thought just a few moments ago that they were all still in his apartment. It takes everything in Chuuya to keep himself together.

"I know, Chuuya." Dazai murmurs, his expression falling. “What’s up with you today?”

Chuuya’s eyes start to flood with tears, only furthering Dazai’s concern. He kneels beside the couch and Chuuya tries to sit himself up, only melting into Dazai’s arms in his attempt to get up. Everything hurts. He doesn’t know why he’s so overcome with emotion. Maybe he’s just sensitive right now because of his apparent illness, but the feelings he holds are real.

Dazai’s trying to comfort him, but Chuuya can’t hear his words. He holds him close. It’s incredibly rare for him to be so sympathetic. He must know something isn’t quite right with Chuuya right now.

If it really was a dream, he wants nothing more than to go back.

…

“We can go visit their graves when you feel better. If you want to,” Dazai offers, sort of out of nowhere. Chuuya’s been silently curled up in his bed for a few hours. Dazai offering him water and bites of food he can hardly stomach every now and then, making sure he takes medication.

“It’s raining,” Chuuya murmurs. He’s mindlessly scrolling through old messages from his friends, on a cellphone he hasn’t touched since they were killed. His heart hurts. He doesn’t have the will to get up.

“Hopefully it stops once you’re up for it,” Dazai says, reaching forward to brush some of Chuuya’s unruly bangs from his eyes.

Chuuya sees a rare photo in their message thread. A picture of Lippmann and Pianoman sleeping together on his old couch from an apartment he used to live in, followed by them in the same position, but this time, in selfie form courtesy of Albatross. It’s a photo that feels familiar, but he can’t remember why. Maybe they were drunk. Maybe he never came across this photo until now. But for some reason, it’s comforting to see.

“Yeah,” Chuuya mumbles, his eyes floating up to Dazai. “Let’s go.”

“Alright. Just let me know whenever you’re up for it,” Dazai tells him.

Chuuya’s still staring at the photo.

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