#he wanted Mori to suffer

[nullfier]

i could talk all day about mori's treatment of dazai and the way he abused his power over him but i'd rather talk about the ways in which he is still doing it, despite dazai having left the mafia. as we know, dazai left the mafia under oda's instruction, a promise he made to his dying friend in which he said he would become a good person, and be on the side that saves people. oda said, the sides make no difference to you, so he knows for a fact that dazai has no reason to do these things, when good and evil are mere concepts for him and not something he feels drawn to either way. a take i've seen often and one that i quite like is not only did mori have oda killed for the mafia's own personal gain (the deal struck so that they could operate under legal means), but it falls back on mori grooming dazai to one day take his seat. up until this point, dazai has never had anything worth protecting, has never lost anything, has never grieved anything and never experienced the emotional call to despair.

odasaku's death and thus dazai's push into the light, which ends up being with the ada, is the final piece that mori needed to solidify that dazai would one day be able to take his place. they talk about it, dazai says you were afraid of me, weren't you? and in more ways than one, the statement is true. mori had always known that he would and always wanted for dazai to surpass him, but the husk that dazai had become by never wanting anything, never protecting anything scared him if dazai was to dispose of him and assume his seat, because although dazai is a genius, he was callous and didn't value anything. he wouldn't value the mafia like mori does, he wouldn't protect yokohama like mori does. during the guild arc, mori says if dazai was still my right-hand man, the guild would stand no chance. dazai inside of the mafia and outside of it exists as a powerful adversary to whomever he stands against, and i think this is one of many reasons why the ada and the port mafia exist somewhat in tandem. the port mafia and the ada overstep their boundaries from time to time with each other, but the truth lies in mori knowing that dazai could ruin them if he intended to.

in something of a tldr mori aims to push dazai out of the mafia just as much as he intends to keep him within it. he needs dazai to experience loss, needs him to experience what it feels like to protect something, what it feels like to want to protect something. the fact that after dazai left, mori has not replaced his seat as an executive. has not replaced dazai as his right-hand with someone else, continuously offers him his position back means he fully intends to have him back under his wing again, someday. means he fully expects, once dazai has experienced what he needs him to, that he will take over his position, and he will drive dazai back to him. yosano and dazai serve as two prizes that mori currently does not have on his mantle, and in the deal struck with the president of the agency, those are the two he is most likely to pluck out of their ranks to put right back into his own.

[ivoryratdoggerythethird]

hot take (? maybe? i don't fully know what the general stance is on this) but i don't think chuuya would've left the mafia with dazai

not because their bond is shallow (sike, fyodor) but because i think chuuya found his grip in the mafia by the time the dark era rolls around. he entered the mafia because of dazai yeah but they both have lives outside of each other still. after everything that happens in fifteen, koyou being in the mafia, and also just chuuya's unwavering loyalty - which he swore to mori, however unfortunately but it's still the truth - i think he would've let dazai go alone.

but there's that other thing though; his bond with dazai. his very significant bond with dazai. that's why i think he would've let dazai go; as long as dazai isn't leaving because of something he did, or plotting to like, burn the mafia down, i don't think he would've been particularly bothered beyond the 'dealing with traitors' business but honestly lets be real if you're important enough in the mafia, being a traitor or threat or enemy means jackshit (tachihara, verlaine, chuuya, even dazai is literally invited back by mori lmao).

i can see chuuya just tsk-ing and waving him off like "you probably have an escape route planned so i'm not even gonna bother pursuing you, won't give you the satisfaction of dying quickly either, you do you bastard, imma go celebrate with wine now, don't die i'm still gonna kill you someday, see ya." or like. you know. some rough approximation of that.

i think if dazai actually told him, considering what i know of his character thus far, chuuya would've helped him leave or, at least, rolled his eyes and looked the other way and do essentially a scripted song and dance of hunting him down with everyone, including mori, knowing full well that a) dazai won't be found unless he doesn't want to be, and b) the only person remotely capable of finding him would just punch him in the face then let him go again

skk would probably just keep up their usual bickering nonsense via randomly breaking into each others places (i.e. dazai because he's now broke and chuuya exclusively breathes designer air) and even if they don't interact for long periods, they would easily slide back into their dynamics whenever they do, as it is in canon except they'd likely manage to be even more in-tune and annoying with each other.

(also the ADA would know about the mysterious rich redhead whose number is listed as "dazai's dog" to call up when dazai is up to his shenanigans so he can come over and kick discipline into him. guessing who the hell he is another one of their mysteries and they know it ties in with dazai's old job, just not how. ranpo cackles everytime he shows up. he and kunikida meet up for lunch to bitch about dazai.)

tl;dr, imo skk could've been skk for the missing four years with chuuya still being an executive and dazai stiill being a detective if only mister cyclops there chose communication over blowing a car up, because i do believe chuuya would've let everything play out the same as in canon except he and dazai wouldn't be cut off the whole time

[miloisnice]

I wholeheartedly hope that Mori takes Ranpo to be a part of his mafia, because there will be so many opportunities for the show after that. First, the ADA literally won't survive without Ranpo. He's literally their backbone and the only reason it exists in general. Two, Fukozawa angst. Ranpo is his kid, if Mori took him out of everyone in the agency, I don't think the president would take it easily. Three, the port mafia would THRIVE. Literally Ranpo would be the answer for all their problems considering how smart he is. He would be a great addition to the mafia, they would literally win it all. And forth, Ranpo's reaction. It could be either a) he doesn't expect the mafia to even look at him (not because he doesn't think he's good enough of course, he's the world's greatest detective, but because he was 100% sure they would either take Dazai back or would take Tanizaki for his ability) so it would be a shock to hear he'll have to say bye to something that was his home for 12 years; b) he would've already dedicated that Mori would choose him so he doesn't react, he makes a plan on how to contact the ADA and help them from afar; and c) he wouldn't be shocked, he'd be glad they choose him so he could fuck the mafia from the inside out, and he'd refuse to help the port mafia.

Also I think that Mori would know that Fukazawa cares deeply for Ranpo and would take the other for both being smart and just to spite Fukazawa lols

[i-miss-breathing]

I kinda want to write a story that has a port mafia or former port mafia member trying to assasinate mori and hesitating because killing him means killing Elise. Or like. At least an internal monologue of that nature. Like Q and Elise could be playing, and elise starts talking about how much she hates mori, and Q is like “damn if only I could kill him without getting rid of my friend.” Like idk why, I think I just feel like the implications of his ability being a sentient being and what that means for the people close to her are left largely unexplored.

[z4rph1m]

Platonic Yan!Batfam X dazai!GNreader X Yandere DC

Mix of neglected batfam and based of port mafia dazai with a small slice of ada dazai

Forgotten child

Pro. (You are here) Ch.1 Ch.2

A bastard is what you are

You were a result of a one night stand between Bruce Wayne and your mother who you don’t or will ever know the name of.

How’d you know his your father? A simple DNA test.

Who would’ve thought that a child of a billionaire Bruce Wayne would ended up in the mafia.

As much as you want to know more about your mother, it was quickly dialed down by one sentence.

“Traitors doesn’t deserve to have their name pass down”

Mori isn’t really the best person to look up to

You were at the very least 5 or older when the GCPD took you away, you don’t remember.

Alfred was the one who pick you up from the investigation.

He remembers that day as if it was yesterday.

You, a malnourished child who stayed still, staring into the darkness with no light in their eyes, bandages covering you.

It was a pity sight.

A few calling of your name to realized it time to go to your new ‘home’

You move as if you’re not even human, instead a doll who was abandoned and left to rot.

With what left of your belongings, if you even had any, Alfred with his gentle nature guided you to the car.

You didn’t even made a breathing sound, only blinking and constant fidgeting to your doll.

He tried his best to struck up a conversation with you, such as “how are you?” Yet only to be replied back with either a deafening silence or words barely above a whisper.

You were a child yet have suffered so much beyond to see the light of hope.

Only when you’ve arrived at the manor is when you started clinging more to him. Maybe it your nature as a child to be nervous to go to your new home.

With what left of your innocence, you looked up to him with a pleading look , “don’t…. Don’t let go please….”

Your voice was hoarse and dehydrated but it still sounded as if you were afraid of being left alone.

Probably the effect of losing the only person whom you know and trust.

When you cling onto him is when he took note of your entire appearance.

Yes you were covered in bandages but those bandages were not only dirty but also covered in red streaks of blood and was layered below the fresh white one.

Your clothes had some torn at end, hair being messy and full of knots, sections of your skin having bruises.

Alfred was more than ready to hold your hand while guiding you to wherever you two go together.

Yes the absent of your family saddened you but Alfred company was what you wanted.

You didn’t care for the others, not when they ignore you 90% of the time and not when Alfred is there with whenever he has the chance.

In your mind, Bruce Wayne is not your father no, instead it was Alfred Pennyworth.

But even that doesn’t stop you from being what you are now.

Bruce Wayne, the man who is your supposed father. Do you hate him? Not really.

You can’t really hate a man you barely know your whole life.

And it wasn’t hard to learn what does he do for a living other than being a man whore.

He bare- actually never even had a proper conversation that lasted more than 3 seconds.

The dude didn’t even notice the increasing amount of bandages when you first stared in the port mafia.

Richard Grayson, the second person to talk to you after Alfred. Do you also hate him? A mix feeling really.

You know about him more than you know about Bruce, on what he doing when he’s Nightwing, what he’s favourite food, and just the minimalist stuff.

You don’t exactly have the right feeling to describe your relationship with him.

Do you talk? Barely. Do you have a proper conversation? Never. Spend time together? Nope.

In short, you don’t think the two of you are fitted to be considered siblings.

Jason Todd, was probably the closest to you.

You saw him being taken in as a robin and died as a robin.

Yes you two mocked eachother in terms of whatever you can remember but at the very least there was interactions between the two of you in comparison to the others.

As much as you hated it, you did infact miss his presence when he died.

Timothy Drake was the most distant than all of them combine. The two of you didn’t have a single conversation or even a single sentence to eachother.

You knew well he’s a fan of Batman and probably didn’t even knew you existed or just didn���t care since you’re not one of the vigilante.

Not that you care, you never identify yourself as a Wayne anyway

Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown and Barbara Gordon…… how should you describe them….

Just like Tim, you don’t exist in their world, but instead a background character.

You were sure that they can’t even remember your name properly without mispronouncing.

But You do sure as hell do love it when you’re given a nickname by someone

Last of all, Your half Brother. Damian Wayne, as much as the two of you barely talk, the first meeting wasn’t very welcoming.

Almost being impaled doesn’t give out a nice first impression after all.

You mostly try your best to ignore the insults and the degrading words from him.

The little kid barely met you yet for some reason hold a deep hatred for you like you did something illegal.

You’re currently standing in front of a grave….. someone who was there to take care of you in the port mafia.

You stare blankly at the grave, not knowing what to do, wether to breakdown and cry or to leave it alone.

You were trembling, sweating and on the verge of actually breaking down yet something is holding you back.

Oda Sakunosuke

Your father figure after Alfred is dead.

Ango is right by your side trying his best to comfort you.

As much as you were a demon prodigy, he knew that deep down there’s a child who’s unable to act like one.

You shrugged him off before walking away to do a phone call.

“Alfred….? I know it’s a sudden but…. Please clean up my room…… I no longer staying at the manor from now on”

You try your best to held in your tears but your voice betrays you, and Alfred knows that.

He swallow a lump in his throat before replying, “don’t worry Master [N], I understand. But do please remember that I will always be there to welcome you”

He was the only one who knows about your work in the Port Mafia and the only one who you trusted to told it too.

He knows about the people you met and the people who you befriended.

He understands how a death of one of them can put you on the verge of losing what left in your humanity and to live.

And he knows that the death of your second father figure can cause you distorted in many ways.

Inspired by @-acid-ixx again & again series and @-marcyvampire silly little bat.

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 AND WHEN I'M BACK IN YOKOHAMA

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: with the team sent to escort you back to the port mafia headquarters obliterated, you're on your own in a war-torn yokohama. or, well, you are until mori sends out the infamous double black to retrieve you... you almost wish he would've let you suffer out there alone.

wordcount: 10k; sfw; fem!reader, pm!reader, mentions of mafia business

AUTHOR'S NOTES: at last, we get the first meeting between pm!reader & double black. keep your eye out for two other cameos in this fic ;) i can't remember if dazai and chuuya got their moniker before or during the dragon's head conflict and i dont feel like going to go figure it out so for the sake of my sanity, their little duo started rising in infamy just before the conflict broke out.

“Oh, this is the worst,” you complain quietly, arms wrapped around your waist as you look up and down the abandoned street.

The city looks nothing short of apocalyptic with dead bodies littering the ground and buildings caved in. You can’t help but want to blow up at Mori for calling you back to Yokohama with all of this happening. The “elite squad” he had sent to ensure you arrived at the Port Mafia base safely had been all but decimated by an ability user with a penchant for arson—you only survived by the skin of your teeth, running as fast as you could down vaguely familiar alleys until you finally lost him. 

You pull out your phone, trying to see if you can call Mori but only fall further into despair when you find that you have no cell service and your phone is nearly dead.

Tucking your phone back in your pocket, you let out a shaky breath as you begin to make your way down the street again, trying to figure out where exactly you are so you can get to the base as soon as possible. It’s only a matter of time before that pyromaniac finds you and your ability isn’t exactly built for self-defense or combat—you’re not sure if you can get yours activated before you’re roasted to death by the man.

You swallow thickly, anxiety beginning to spread through you as you make your way through rubble down the street. What happened? It’s all too reminiscent of that day eight years ago when Mori found you, the death and destruction as far as the eye could see—it drags up emotions you’ve long since repressed and now is not the time for it.

You’d been unable to get answers out of Mori’s men before the ability user attacked your convoy, but it seems as if the city has become a warzone—but over what? How hasn’t it reached the news outlets yet? And who are the combatants? Obviously, the Port Mafia is one of them, and you can guess that Mori called you back to Yokohama because the war isn’t falling in their favor, but who the hell is strong enough to compete with the Port Mafia, and why? 

You sigh, kicking absently at a small rock as you continue down the street. 

You should have been briefed. You don’t know why you weren’t briefed before being called back to the city. Frustrated, you turn down a somewhat familiar alley and lean against the wall, resting your head back against the bricks. You need to figure out what’s going on, but more importantly, you need to figure out where the hell you are so you can get back into safe territory.

You peek your head out to peer around the road—not a soul in sight in the streets, but… your gaze flickers up to the buildings, sliding from window to window until you catch sight of a figure peeking from between the blinds down to where you’re standing in the alleyway. Instantly, they let the blinds fall shut and throw themselves back indoors, but it’s too late—you’ve already spotted them.

You let out a breath of relief, looking both ways to make sure the fire manipulator hasn’t caught up to you yet before darting across the street to the building. It’s an apartment complex—the door leading into it has been half knocked off its hinges, so it’s easy to push it open and step inside.

The whole hallway has been ravaged, doors on the lower floors kicked in to reveal trashed rooms. You have to be careful not to step on glass as you make your way to the stairwell, Third floor, fifth window from the right. Most of the doors on the third floor aren’t quite as done in as the ones on the first, but only one has light peeking out from the crack.

You exhale, letting your eyes slide shut briefly before you raise your fist to knock on the door. “Excuse me! Would you mind answering a few questions? … I just arrived in the area, got caught in the crossfire of some battle, I would really appreciate the help, if you can spare any.” You’re careful to keep your voice light, gentle, and you’re even more careful to make sure your expression is smooth and unassuming when you hear the lock click open.

“You picked a god-awful time to come to Yokohama, child.” You hear an older woman speaking on the other side of the door; she doesn’t open it yet, but now that it’s cracked, you think your ability will work quickly to make her at ease. “Not one of ‘em Strain decoys, are you?” 

The fact that you have no idea what she means by that is infuriating, a reminder that Mori didn’t even bother to warn you about anything before dragging you back here, but you don’t let your frustration seep onto your face.

Strain… Strain… That Australian organization? What the hell are they doing in Yokohama? Why have you been kept so in the dark?

“No ma’am, unfortunately, I don’t even know what you mean by that,” you admit, and when you hear the woman let out a heavy sigh, you know that you’ve won, sending up a silent prayer of thanks as she opens the door to let you in. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

The woman only grumbles, but her eyes are gentle and her wrinkled face is soft as she ushers you into the room, shutting the door behind you and locking it. She’s not alone in the apartment, you notice—there’s a teen boy around your age lingering in the hallway, blonde hair cut short and glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose as he studies you with a frown. 

“What are you doing out here on your own, girl?” the elderly woman asks as she wobbles after you into the main room of the apartment, ushering you to sit down. “Doppo, go get the poor girl some water. Stop acting like a lump, boy.”

The boy looks disgruntled but nods, scampering off into the kitchen as the woman turns her attention back toward you. “Well? Don’t you know? Yokohama’s no place for tourists lately. Where are your parents?”

Your smile falters, mind racing as you try to pick your words carefully. “My father is the one who told me to come back to the city. I was… not made aware of the circumstances I would be arriving in.”

“Men,” the elderly woman spits out, looking up as the boy, Doppo, returns with two glasses of water, handing one to you and one to the woman. “Take notes, boy, you better not end up like one of those useless wastes of air or I’ll put you down myself, understand?” 

“Yes, granny,” the boy replies, and though he still looks distinctly aggrieved, you can’t help but feel amused by the fact that he immediately pulls out a notebook to take notes.

“Would you mind telling me what exactly… happened to the city?” you ask after a moment, taking a sip of the cool water and trying to make yourself a bit more comfortable on the sofa. “I haven’t seen anything on the news about this.”

The woman scoffs, waving her hand. “Of course not, big whigs think that they can keep it all on the low and get it under control before the incident makes it across seas,” she says roughly. “Gang wars broke out after some bastard with a lot of money died. Came in from all over to try to get their hands on the money. Whole city’s being torn apart.”

Interesting, you think to yourself, mind racing as you put together the few puzzle pieces you’ve been given. How many factions are already here? Who are they? Why did Mori call you back here if it’s already escalated this much? Your ability might be key in intel gathering and negotiations, but you’d be useless in combat.

“Our ward is under the control of some organization called the Strain,” the boy tells you. “They’ve been targeting civilians. They-”

Doppo grimaces and looks away, an angry expression crossing his face and you watch as the elderly woman reaches out to squeeze his forearm before looking back over to you. “Boy’s mother was killed by them the night the conflict broke out. I’ve been looking after him since.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you say quietly, but he only averts his gaze from you, looking down at the ground. 

Strain. You were right. You’ve heard a lot of them. They originated in the Australian underground, but they spread rapidly throughout the world—footholds in every major country, stakes in every major world event. Brutal and ambitious, you suppose you’re not surprised they came here if there’s as much money up for grabs as the woman assumes. 

“What ward are you trying to get to, girl?” the woman asks you. “It’s not safe out there on your own. There are no rules or laws anymore, whole city is anarchic. You go out there on your own and you’ll be picked off by Strain.”

“I need to get to my father,” you tell her as you shake your head. The Port Mafia must be in an especially precarious position if Mori is bringing you back after the conflict has escalated this much—your heart rate spikes as worst-case scenarios start to fly through your head, wondering if they’ve been backed into a corner, forced into a position where their only option is negotiations for surrender. Logically, you know Mori would never let that happen, but it doesn’t quell the rising fear. “He’s in Naka-ku.”

You just need to know what ward you’re in and-

“You’re in Kanagawa-ku right now, you’ll never make it through it and Nishi-ku—and Naka-ku is the heart of the conflict,” the woman says as she clicks her tongue. “Stay here. You’ll be safer.”

“I need to get to my father,” you repeat again, “but thank you, really, for the offer and concern… and for helping me figure out what’s going on. I appreciate it.”

You rise to your feet to leave, and instantly, the boy is on his feet, nearly knocking over the woman’s cup of water and promptly getting whacked with a rag in response. The boy winces but takes a few steps toward you, undeterred. 

“You can’t go out there,” he says, green eyes pleading for you to listen. “Just stay. Once everything’s calmed down, we can help you find your father.”

“I can’t stay,” you say quietly, wondering if Doppo’s desperation for you to stay is a result of your ability messing with his head or if he really does just have that big of a heart. You think as a thank you for their help, that you’ll ensure that Yokohama will become Strain’s grave.

The old woman makes another disparaging comment about ungrateful fathers before nodding at you. “Good luck, girl, be careful out there.”

You make it approximately seven blocks before the ability user that you thought you lost catches up to you. You think that if you die here, you’re going to spend the entire rest of Mori’s life terrorizing him as a ghost. You grimace as a wave of flames sweeps above you, you can feel the heat against the top of your head from where you’re using an abandoned car to shield you from the man, but you know it’s only a matter of time before he gets to you.

Shit, you sigh, eyes flitting around the street trying to figure out if there’s anywhere you can dart to, but the only other rubble you could hide behind is a tipped-over dumpster in an alley twenty yards away—you’ll never make it that far without something to shield you from the flames. 

You blame Mori. Again. He should’ve warned you about what you’re walking into, and he should’ve sent more than just a group of second-rate losers to pick you up from the station knowing how bad the city is. Now, you’re going to get roasted alive by some psychotic pyromaniac when you should be back in Kyoto dealing with the more pleasant parts of business—wining and dining elites to strike deals and expand the Mafia’s influence throughout all of the societal spheres of Japan.

You grimace as you steady your gun in front of you, using the broken side-view mirror of the car you’re hiding behind to try to figure out where the ability user is because if you can get one good shot off you’d at least have enough time to make a break for it. You just need to focus—the Colonel didn’t put you through all of that firearms training just for you to choke up when you actually need to use it.

Your gaze tracks the man as soon as he comes within view of the mirror. You breathe in and out steadily—once, twice, three times. He’s fumbling with a walkie-talkie, distracted, and you don’t hesitate before taking the given chance. You twist into a kneeling position to face where he’s standing, raising both arms as you aim the gun in his direction; he catches your movement from the corner of his eye, expression shifting into one of anger, but you fire off three bullets before he can retaliate.

Or so you thought.

Your lips part in shock as the man whips a fireball in your direction before he hits the ground—even if you do evade it in time, it’s stronger than the rest he’s been throwing at you, it’ll blow right through the car you’re using as a barrier.

“Shit,” you breathe out, trying to take a step back but your ankle catches on a stray piece of rubble. You hit the ground hard, pain shooting up your leg and as you brace yourself for the flames, you squeeze your eyes shut.

But the agony of burning to death never comes.

Your eyes fly back open when you see someone standing between you and the fireball, the flames fizzling out and dying before they can touch him. They disappear, unable to get past him to you, and your eyes widen in shock. Who on earth… He looks over his shoulder at you, dark-hair flopping in his visible eye—he’s pretty, you think absently, even if a quarter of his face is covered in bandages. You blame your thoughts on the fact that you’re still a bit stunned and confused. 

Then he opens his mouth.

“You must be the precious cargo,” he sings, leaning over you with a grin. “We’re here to rescue you.”

“Cargo?” You gape, offended. “Did you just call me cargo?”

“Precious cargo,” he corrects, eye turning up in amusement before he focuses his attention back to the ability user who had attacked you. “Go handle that, pipsqueak. Make yourself useful for once.”

“Shut your damn mouth, bastard,” another male voice spits from behind you, voice riddled with irritation and anger. 

You look behind you to see another boy around your age with orange hair and mismatched eyes. He’s dressed more casually than the dark-haired boy, who’s wearing a black suit and tie beneath his long coat. He barely spares you a look as he steps forward, and you watch as his entire body glows red before he flies forward so fast that your eyes can’t even keep up with him. 

The gravity manipulator. You’ve heard of him through Kouyou—not much, but enough to know he’s probably the strongest ability users to exist in the eastern hemisphere. Does that mean…

The dark-haired boy turns his attention to you, smile widening as he leans over you. He looks unbearably amused at your predicament, and you find yourself growing more and more incensed by the second. 

“Dazai Osamu,” he greets. “You got a name, precious cargo?” 

Oh.

You recognize the name instantly, eyes narrowing, and as if he can sense your sudden change in demeanor, his smile starts to fall. Dazai Osamu. The Demon Prodigy. The Port Mafia’s Black Wraith. Mori brought him in two years ago, if the rumors you’ve heard hold any truth to them—after he sent you away to Kyoto with Kitada Usurai, one of the previous boss’s executives. 

You always wondered if the reason Mori never brought you back had something to do with his new protege—whether it was because he didn’t need you in Yokohama anymore now that he had “the Demon Prodigy” to be his heir or it was because he just didn’t want the two of you interacting. You never really minded; you like being in Kyoto and you like not having to be at the heart of every gang conflict that takes place in Yokohama but you can’t help the bitterness—the jealousy—that rises now that your eyes have settled on the boy that took your place.

Before you can answer him, Dazai abruptly goes careening over to the left, hitting the ground hard. The orange-haired boy is standing where he once was, leg extended, and you realize that he must’ve kicked him away. 

“Stay there and die, won’t you?” he snaps, and you glance behind him, trying to figure out if he had already taken care of the ability user that had been hunting you down. Your lips part when you see him crumpled in a pile of rubble, unmoving. “Nakahara Chuuya. You can call me Chuuya. You hurt?” 

He extends his hand to you, and you take it gratefully, giving him your name and letting him help you to your feet. You stumble a bit, your left ankle buckling under your weight, and Chuuya wraps an arm around your waist to steady you. 

How embarrassing, you think, thanking him quietly before easing his arm away, standing on your own even with the pain in your ankle, not wanting to come across as weak. You make your way over to where the ability user is crumpled on the ground, kneeling in the rubble next to him. You lift your fingers to his neck to see if he’s still hanging on, but there’s no pulse.

You click your tongue, having been hoping you’d be able to take him back to the base for questioning, but instead, you let your fingers drift to the symbol embroidered on his jacket and then to the two bars embroidered onto his bicep.

Strain. 

The old lady and her grandson hadn’t been lying.

“You recognize the symbol?” Chuuya asks, wandering over to stand next to where you’re kneeling on the ground.

You frown instantly. “You don’t?” you ask dubiously, eyes narrowing again as Chuuya bristles at your comment.

“The conflict only just started a few days ago,” he says defensively. “We don’t have intel on all of the organizations that have showed up in the city. There are dozens of them. We’ve been more focused on trying to keep the civilians out of the crossfires at this point.”

A mighty fine job they’ve been doing at that, you think sarcastically, mind drawing back to the boy and old woman that helped you earlier and all of the destroyed buildings. You keep the thought to yourself, not too keen on antagonizing one of the people sent to get you out of this hellhole. 

“That’s why he brought me back here then,” you mutter more to yourself than anyone else, rolling your eyes as you grab the ability user’s walkie-talkie and rise to your feet. “He’s a member of Strain—one of their lower-ranked ability users, if the lines on his coat are accurate. From what I’ve gathered, they control Kanagawa-ku and Nishi-ku. We should get out of the open before their stronger ability users show up.”

“I can take them,” Chuuya says confidently, looking unperturbed by your comment.

“I’m sure you can,” you say dryly, “but how skilled are you at using nonlethal force against strong opponents?”

Chuuya only squints at you, which is as much of an answer as you need.

“If we want actual, useful intel, we’ll have to capture one of their higher-ranked ability users alive. I can get the information out of them, I just need the opportunity to use my ability.” You rise back to your feet, gaze shifting around the street to try to figure out where you should hide out for the night. “Plus, night is falling, and rumor has it, Strain has an ability user that’s particularly adept with umbrakinetic abilities and I would rather not run into him. I am already tired and wounded, and I don’t know how your gravity would interact with an element unaffected by gravitational forces so we can’t rely on your brute force.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have attitude?” Chuuya scowls, disgruntled by your blunt commentary, and you roll your eyes.

“No, actually,” you say, giving him a thin smile. “In fact, I’ve been told I’m quite pleasant. I’m just in a bad mood because I didn’t realize Mori would be having me return to a warzone when he called me back to Yokohama. I would’ve appreciated a bit of a head’s up.”

Your gaze drifts back to Dazai as you speak, curious, but the boy is already looking at you, a frown on his lips and visible eye sharp. As soon as he notices that you caught him staring, his face smoothes out and he cocks his head to the side, questioning, eye too black and too empty.

Your gaze slides away from him onto what seems like another residential building behind him.

“We’ll stay there for the night.”

You wake up with a pain in your back and a headache. The fact that your ankle doesn’t hurt as badly is only a minimal consolation as you push yourself into a sitting position and rub your forehead, disoriented and confused, trying to remember where you are and why you’re sleeping on a rickety bed.

Your gaze catches sight of a head of orange hair lying in the opposite direction of you, pillow at the foot of the bed and curled close to the edge of the mattress as if trying to stay as far away as possible from you.

That’s right. You’re back in Yokohama. Mori called you back to help with this conflict. Sent the gravity manipulator and the Demon Prodigy after you to make sure you got back to the base. Your eyes linger on Nakahara Chuuya for a moment, watching the way his chest rises and falls, soft puffs of air escaping his lips—he’s fast asleep, dead to the world. So, you let your gaze drift across the room; it’s dark, no lights on in fear of drawing unwanted attention from Strain scouts if they see any sign of life in one of the abandoned buildings. You can only hardly catch sight of Dazai Osamu sitting near a cracked open window, one knee tucked to his chest while the other hangs loosely at his side as he looks outside and smokes a cigarette.

There’s an indecipherable expression on his face—a heavy look in his eyes and a downturn curve to his lips. You watch him curiously for a moment. 

You’ve heard a lot about Dazai Osamu’s feats while stationed in Kyoto: ruthless, terrifyingly intelligent, willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done. It took only a year of him being a member of the Mafia for him to be given control of Mori’s personal covert ops unit, and he’s been producing staggering results since. He’s the one who takes charge of eliminating organizations that you deem unworthy of associating with the Mafia but too problematic to keep around, the one who’s been opening up new distribution and trade channels for you to make use of in negotiations and acquisitions.

You suppose you’ve been working closely with him for a while now, even if the two of you have never interacted until now.

Still, the rumors that have spread about the boy are nothing to scoff at. The head of the Mafia’s interrogation unit—they say no one lasts more than five minutes in the same room with him before cracking. You’ve heard through the grapevine that the lower-ranked mafiosos are more terrified of him than any of the executives—see him as heartless and calculating, willing to sacrifice any one of them if it means furthering the Mafia’s interests. He only views people as tools, there’s no room in his black heart for meaningful relationships. No one trusts him and the longer he works for the Mafia, the darker and more unfathomable he becomes, even in the eyes of others entrenched in the dark—people keep far out of reach of him unless they have a death wish.

You study him carefully from where you’re sitting; he still hangs his jacket over his shoulders, like some sort of barrier from the rest of the world. His expression now is a far cry from the smile that had been on his face when you first saw him; his eye black and eerily still as he stares out the window, void of the gleam that had been in it before he noticed your reaction to his name.

You slide out of bed as quietly as you can, making your way over to where he’s sitting—he doesn’t even notice your approach until he catches sight of your reflection in the window, but even then, he doesn’t turn to look at you, only tracking you through the glass until you come to sit on the windowsill across from him. You tilt your head to the side as you observe him, pulling your knees to your chest.

“You shouldn’t sit at the window,” you finally say. “Someone could spot you.”

His eye is so black right now; you almost feel uncomfortable beneath his stare but you only raise your eyebrows. His gaze pointedly trails down to where you’d joined him and the corner of your lip quirks up.

“Fair enough,” you say and then hold your hand out, silently requesting for him to pass the cigarette over to you. Dazai stares at your hand for a moment and just when you’re about to draw your hand back, he finally reaches out to let you take it from him. Your fingers brush his as you take it between your index and middle fingers, the contact causing a spark to run up your forearm. You lift the cigarette to your lips and take a long drag, tilting your head back against the wall before you tell him, “You should go get some rest. I’ll take watch the next few hours.”

“Not tired,” he replies after a few seconds of silence. His voice is just as cold as the expression on his face, no hint of the playfulness from earlier in the day.

You hum, trying to decide what to say because he’s clearly unhappy and you have a feeling it has to do with how you reacted to hearing his name earlier, so you decide to be upfront, not in the mood for word games. 

“I think you’re unhappy with me because of how I reacted to hearing your name,” you say, laying out the issue. His gaze snaps up to you, sharp and narrowed, lips parting to deny the allegation but you don’t let him. “I was only surprised. I didn’t mean to make it seem like I have a bad opinion of you.”

“No?” Dazai asks, a sardonic lilt to his voice, goading more than anything else but you don’t fall for the trap. 

With your legs brushing, you can’t feel the familiar warmth of your ability circling through you and emanating around you, everything feels cold and empty instead, as if a part of you was sucked into a vacuum in space—the rumors must be true about him being a nullifier. You’ve never had to interact with people without your ability as a fail safe, it’s constantly active despite trying to learn how to turn it off. It’s useful though, it ensures that even if you mess up, the people around you are comfortable enough and amiable enough to not notice. They trust you without you even needing to do anything, adore you just because of the pleasant feelings your ability induces in them.

This is… different. 

And you don’t think in a bad way. You’ve always wondered what it would be like to interact with people without your ability interfering, it’s why you tried so hard to figure out if you could turn it off. And… it's nice talking to someone who’s not automatically endeared to you by your ability, who you can have normal conversation with without having to wonder if they’re only talking to you because you’re messing with their minds. Even nicer than you used to imagine.

“No,” you confirm. “I’m curious about you.”

The corners of Dazai’s lips turn down even more, brows furrowing at the comment. “Why?”

“You’re not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“A monster,” you say the word absently, watching as Dazai goes rigid at it, staring you down. “A demon. It’s what everyone calls you, at least.” 

“... and what makes you think I’m not one?” he finally asks, jaw tight.

Your lips curl into an easy smile again. “If you were a monster, you wouldn’t have been so bothered by the idea of me not liking you. The desire to be liked is an exceedingly human trait.”

Even under the dim moonlight, you can see the way Dazai’s cheeks burn a rosy color at your words. He suddenly looks years younger as he fumbles for words, gaze averting from you back to the window, but his reflection betrays him. 

“I was not bothered by the idea of you not liking me,” he protests, defensiveness creeping into his tone as he snatches his cigarette right back from your hand as if to make a point, giving you a glare from the corner of his eye. “I was not.”

“You were also very clearly put off by the fact that I had no issue with Chuuya,” you note, biting back a laugh at the squeak-like protest that slips from his lips and the mortified expression that follows. “Jealousy, another exceedingly human trait.”

“I was not jealous,” he cries out, a bit too loud because from where he’s sleeping on the bed, Chuuya grumbles out a ‘shut the fuck up’ in his sleep. “I was not jealous.”

“It’s okay if you were,” you say, instead of indulging in his denial. “I’m not judging you.”

“I wasn’t,” Dazai hisses, more insistent now. “I don’t care if you like me or not.”

“Well, I do like you,” you tell him—honest, you’re having fun teasing him.

“You don’t even know me,” Dazai scoffs, cheeks still pink as he pointedly turns his face away from you. “You can’t like me.”

“I want to know you,” you say, tilting your head to the side as you observe him. You like observing things—it’s the easiest way of gathering information. You keep quiet, you don’t draw more attention to yourself than necessary. It’s how you’ve been able to thrive alone in Kyoto even with so many vultures circling you. “I don’t know many other people my age… none, really.”

Something strange crosses Dazai’s expression. Longing but hesitant. Wistful but reluctant, like he should know better but just can’t help himself from wanting. You’re good at reading people, you pride yourself on it; it’s another reason why you’ve been able to succeed in Kyoto alone. Dazai is difficult—he covers half of his face and he’s quick to school the other half when he slips up, but you’re observant. It’s what you’re best at. 

You wonder, maybe, if Dazai has his own vultures. You think he must, he’s young—like you—and it’s probably why he uses his reputation as a shield and wears his long black coat like armor in the same way you use honeyed words and wear a saccharine smile. So, the thought must be scary to him as much as it must be appealing—the desire to have someone see him put against the fear of actually being seen as he is. 

You know it better than anyone.

“Well, you can’t have Chuuya. Chuuya is my dog,” Dazai says firmly, raising his chin. “He follows my orders.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Your dog?” you ask dryly.

“My dog,” Dazai confirms, seemingly quite proud of himself. “I won a bet, and now Chuuya is my dog for life.”

“Must have been quite the bet,” you drawl, watching as Dazai brightens a bit at the topic.

“We had a contest to see who could figure out the culprit of one of our missions faster. I won, of course, because Chuuya is slow and dumb like a slug. A slug. Chuuya is a slug,” Dazai cackles, dark eye shining as his lips curl up into a wide smile, clapping his hands together. “I’m much better than Chuuya, you see. He’s a brute. He’s never had to learn to be smart or cunning because of his ability, so he just punches things around until he gets what he wants. Plus, he’s small—and if that’s not bad enough, he is more arrogant than his tiny body can hold. That’s why he’s my dog. He can’t do anything without his master’s orders.”

Dazai is not subtle in dragging Chuuya down to boast about himself, puffing out his chest like some prideful bird and lifting his chin as he speaks. You think that if Chuuya was awake to hear this, Dazai would find himself tossed right out of the window to fall two stories to the ground, but the other boy is asleep, blissfully unaware of Dazai’s rampage of insults. 

“What happened during the mission?” you ask curiously, a bit interested to know what’s all been happening in Yokohama while you’ve been gone.

Dazai looks surprised as if he didn’t expect you to encourage his yapping. Then, he lights up again. “I’ll tell you all about it…”

You wonder, maybe, if the rumors of his solidarity and inability to form meaningful relationships might not have stemmed from his own volition. Rather, you think they’ve been enforced by the people around him who refuse to give him the time of day in fear of his reputation, because right now in front of you isn’t some twisted and unfathomable wraith of the Mafia.

All you see is a boy the same age as you eager to have someone new to talk to. 

He talks all night. 

From the moment you sat there with him at two or three in the morning until dawn, you don’t think he shut his mouth once. You hardly spoke more than a handful of times, content to just lean your head against the window and listen to him go on about all of the missions he’s had since joining the Mafia a year ago—most of them involved Chuuya, and he certainly made a show of explaining in each one why the mission would have failed without Dazai there to guide it along.

“See. This is why he’s my dog.”

It’s not until Chuuya finally starts stirring as the sun crosses the horizon does he finally quiet down, seemingly not keen on getting himself launched out a window if the other boy happens to hear one of the unsavory stories Dazai’s telling you.

Then again, his first words are pretty much asking for it.

“About time you woke up, slug,” Dazai says cheerfully when Chuuya groans and rolls over, clearly starting to wake up. His dark eye gleams as he waits for Chuuya’s explosive reaction to the new nickname.

“Hah?! What did you just call me, bastard?” Chuuya snaps, although he’s quite slow in pushing himself out of bed, sleepy and disoriented, gaze swiveling around to try to land on Dazai.

“Huh,” you say, more to yourself than them. “He is quite sluggish in waking up.”

“What?!” Chuuya demands, head snapping toward you. 

On the other side of the window bench, Dazai snickers, looking mighty pleased with himself. He looks a lot more his age now, the tenseness in his shoulders has dissipated in the hours he spent talking to you, the tightness in his face has smoothed out. His eye is a lot wider and a lot brighter, the corner of his lip twitching as he waits to see what Chuuya’s going to do next. He sits closer to you now too—or, not closer, really, but he’s extended his legs out a bit as the night drew on until they were all but entangled with yours.

“You’re a slug, Chuuya,” Dazai jeers. “A slug. Because you’re small and slow. Aren’t I so brilliant?”

“I’m going to toss your shitty ass out the window,” Chuuya booms, throwing himself out of bed and darting over to Dazai, who evades Chuuya’s punch by diving off of the window bench, nearly taking you right with him considering his legs were stuffed between yours. “Get back here, you asshole.”

Dazai’s out of the room in an instant and Chuuya is chasing after him, spitting out curses and threats. You sit there for a moment, blinking, trying to wrap your mind around what just happened before just deciding to shake your head and rise to your feet. You stretch, body a bit sore from sitting in the same place for hours and tired from the little amount of sleep you got last night. 

You’re ready to get back to headquarters. You want to sleep in an actual bed and you want to drag Mori for his incompetence and nearly getting you killed. You miss Elise too, even if you don’t really like what she’s become. You’re just happy to not be alone anymore—being in Kyoto was… stressful, at best, and downright agonizing, at worst. You couldn’t trust anyone, not even your ability was enough to protect you there, you had no friends, you were lonely and constantly looking over your shoulder because you had no one to watch your back—even the other members of the Mafia in Kyoto with you would’ve turned against you at any given chance if it meant they could drag themselves higher up the hierarchy. 

You yawn as you leave the room, hearing the distant sounds of Chuuya kicking Dazai’s shit in. You make your way to the front of the building you guys had camped the night out, intent on getting a breath of fresh air before waiting for them to stop fucking around but you hardly get more than half a step out of the door before you’re pushed back hard against a nearby wall.

Your eyes widen when a figure manifests in front of you, particles of shadows knitting together to form a young man who seems to be a few years older than you. You barely withhold a sigh, realizing that despite all attempts to avoid him, you still managed to stumble right into the hands of Strain’s shadow manipulator—literally.

“I didn’t expect the cargo we got intel on to be a girl,” he says coolly.  “I almost didn’t believe it when Anderson reported it to me. Though I haven’t heard from him in hours, I assume that’s your doing.”

“You know,” you say lightly, “this is the second time in less than twelve hours that I’ve been called cargo. I think I like it even less coming from you.”

Though you’ve heard a lot about the shadow manipulator, you didn’t know what he looked like before now—he’s quick and elusive, and those who do manage to catch sight of him are killed by him soon after.. He’s not much older than you, though—two years max—handsome enough, pale blonde hair and green eyes with tan, freckled skin. 

Your lips curve up into a small smile. “Are you going to kill me or are you going to stand here with your hand around my neck? … Just so you know, I’m not into that.”

You watch as—just as you expect—he frowns deeply and takes a step back. He watches you carefully, brows knit together, and you let your ability work. Invisible threads wind around his limbs, curling up his neck twisting into his ears and nose and mouth, they curl up to his brain and take root, leaving him vulnerable to however you plan to use your ability.

You still have to be careful. You have to be subtle. Your ability is useful but it has its drawbacks—the biggest being that if you’re too sudden with it, the person you’re targeting can realize that you’re messing with their head and pull themselves out of it. That would be the worst case scenario because 1) they’d realize you have an ability and 2) you’d be in trouble. 

So you resign to just tilting your head to the side as you smile—some emotions are fickle, positive ones like love and happiness, especially among people like you who don’t often feel those emotions. Negative emotions are easier in that once you send someone into a spiral of fear, paranoia or rage, it’s almost impossible for them to draw themselves out, but they’ll inevitably realize that you had done something to their head, which is not an option because your ability needs to remain a secret.

So you decide to just rely on the passive form of your ability, watching as he falls victim to it, shoulders slumping and muscles relaxing as he eyes you curiously. Your ability is non-combatant, yes, but as soon as combat is over, it comes out to play.

He’d made a fatal mistake when he chose not to snap your neck.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” you say conversationally, hands behind your back as you tilt your head to the side. “They say you’re one of the strongest ability users in the world right now.” 

“I didn’t expect you to be a kid,” he says with a frown. “You’re what? Fourteen?”

You blanche. “I’m sixteen,” you protest, forgetting to keep up appearances as you stare at him, aghast. “I do not look fourteen.”

He makes a face as if he disagrees and then shrugs. 

Your eyes bulge. “I do not,” you repeat angrily. “I’m sixteen.”

“Whatever you say,” he says, amused. “I’m not in the business of killing kids though, so I guess I have to take you in. What a bother.”

Your eye twitches. You’d rather die than be taken hostage by Strain and you don’t know where your shitty escorts are so you settle for antagonizing him as a means to stall.

“You’re a high-ranking member of Strain, how are you going to sit here and tell me you’re not in the business of killing kids?” you sneer. “Your organization has been the cause of more child deaths than any other in the world.”

His eyes turn to slits as he stares at you. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says coldly. “I put a stop to all of the rings in Australia myself.”

“And what? You think Strain is willing to just take those losses?” you say, an amused laugh bubbling in the back of your throat when anger flashes through his eyes. Your gaze flits down to the five lines embroidered on his jacket. “For an executive, you must not be kept in the loop by the rest of your comrades. The moment you dismantled the rings in Australia, they turned to strike a deal with Bunin—what do you think your branch in Russia does there? They’re helping Bunin expand his trafficking rings through the East and Strain cuts twenty percent of the profit.”

His hand snaps forward to grab your collar, yanking you toward him. “How would you even know that?” he spits, but from the conflict thinly veiled behind his eyes, you know that your words have taken root. 

You raise your eyebrows as you look up at him, a bit too close for comfort.

“How did you know I was coming back to Yokohama?” you counter instead. He lets you go immediately, withdrawing with a closed-off expression. “Come on, we’ve both been betrayed in some manner—you by your organization, me by someone within mine. I almost burned to death because of them and you… you’ve been working for an organization that’s been lying to you for years. Let’s help each other.”

“I don’t even know if what you’re saying is the truth,” he replies tightly. “I don’t-”

“Then go find out,” you say with an idle smile, “and when you realize I’m telling the truth, well… your ability is quite handy, I’m sure you’ll be able to find me again.”

He stares at you for a moment, expression indecipherable, but after a few long seconds, he disappears in the same swirl of darkness that he appeared in and you can finally relax. You let out a heavy sigh as your shoulders slump, lifting your hand to your neck, wincing at the tenderness.

You doubt that will be enough. You’ve heard rumors that he’s Yakuza-born—only ended up with Strain after Mishima’s Sun and Steel went to war with their syndicate—loyalty is always core to those types, runs through their blood—but at least you’ve planted the seeds, and when he inevitably finds out you’re telling the truth, he’ll come crawling back for more information.

And hopefully some information for you in return. 

Your gaze flits to the side when you hear a crash from your left, seeing Nakahara Chuuya fly out of the building, hands glowing red and eyes wide and wild, trying to seek out a man who’s already long gone.

You roll your eyes. “He’s already gone. Thanks for the help, O’Great Protectors,” you say sarcastically. “Really, you guys are amazing at your job.”

Chuuya has the decency to look ashamed, face flushing as red as his hair as he deactivates his ability and looks away from you. “Who the hell was that?”

“Itou Asahi,” you say absently. “Strain’s shadow manipulator—one of the strongest ability users in the eastern hemisphere right now. Mori brought him up a few times wanting me to recruit him. I didn't think I’d get the chance considering we’re aligned with the Sun and Steel and he hates them, but I might have an opening.”

Your look over to Dazai, who only frowns at your words, gaze trained on you with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“You’re hurt,” he says, brows furrowed, and you realize he’s looking at your neck.

You drop your hand from where you’d been brushing your fingers against the sensitive skin, feeling distinctly too seen under Dazai’s heavy gaze. You don’t know why you feel a bit flustered, but you do and you definitely don’t like it.

“I’m fine,” you say, shaking your head. “Can we head back to headquarters now?”

Dazai frowns like he’s about to protest, but Chuuya nods before he can. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Headquarters is less than a mile away now. The streets that three of you are walking down are safe—none of the organizations have made it this far into the heart of Port Mafia territory—and yet for some reason, Dazai still feels incredibly troubled. 

He hasn’t even been able to join in on you and Chuuya’s conversation. He’s had ample opportunity to considering how much Chuuya is embarrassing himself by trying to act smart, but instead he finds himself trailing behind the two of you, an outsider, too lost in his own thoughts to even think of trying to make a snide comment.

Why is he so troubled?

Dazai isn’t sure and that troubles him too.

He’s always been very in tune with himself. His emotions, his motives, his wants and needs—they’re few and far between, yes, but Dazai has never struggled to pinpoint them at any point in his life. 

He was sad when his ability manifested and his siblings no longer wanted anything to do with him. His ability made them uncomfortable, made them feel empty because it deprived them of their own abilities. They said it was unnatural, and they said he must be unnatural too because why else would he develop such a terrible ability? Dazai couldn’t really blame them, his ability made him feel empty too—he theorizes that when it doesn’t have an ability to suck up into the black hole, it starts devouring anything else it can get its hands on, like his emotions, because he stopped feeling much at all after it manifested. 

When he was twelve, he wanted to learn how to play the piano to impress his mother, though he never got the chance to show her because she was killed soon after. He hasn’t wanted much of anything since then. 

When he was fourteen, his grandfather started pitting him, his siblings and his cousins against each other. His older brother drew the first blood against one of his cousins, and it was a bloodbath from there on out. With both of his parents dead and his siblings and cousins trying to kill one another to be named his grandfather’s heir, Dazai didn’t have much reason to live himself, and he definitely didn’t want to be killed by one of his siblings or cousins. 

So, he thought the next logical step was to die, so he tried to kill himself.

He failed, obviously, and ended up with none other than Mori. He still hasn’t found much of a reason to keep living. Chuuya is around, he supposes, and he’s entertaining enough to mess with—it’s enough to keep Dazai going for now—and you claim to want to know him, so Dazai is interested in seeing how that plays out, but that’s beyond the point. 

The point is that Dazai knows what Dazai wants. Dazai knows what Dazai needs. Dazai knows what Dazai feels. And Dazai currently cannot figure out why Dazai is troubled, so something is certainly wrong and he needs to figure out what it is. 

He hears you laugh at something that Chuuya said and barely stops himself from rolling his eyes. Nothing Chuuya says is ever that funny, so you must just be being polite, but it’s still annoying. Mostly due to the fact that Dazai can’t call it out because he doesn’t even know what was said because he wasn’t paying attention courtesy of his current dilemma.

He withholds a sigh as his gaze drops to your neck, eyes focusing in on the dark bruises lining your neck—the fingerprints of that ability user form Strain that attacked you when he and Chuuya weren’t around—and his irritation spikes yet again.

At once, a lightbulb goes off in his head.

That’s what’s troubling him. He’s found himself looking back at the marks on your neck on more than one occasion, and each time, it’s triggered his displeasure. He’s not sure why it took him so long to put it together, but now lies a new issue: why is it triggering his displeasure?

He squints as he stares at you hard, willing the answer to come to him. There must be a logical reason for it, he just needs to figure out what it is. He can see you looking at him from the corner of your eye, probably wondering why he’s staring at you so intensely, but Dazai just can’t rip his gaze away, fully intent on figuring out what his problem is right now.

Casualties are expected in this line of work. Dazai has never been one to think twice when people are hurt or killed in the line of action—he’s lost many subordinates to ensure the success of a mission and has even put his own life on the line if it meant that it bettered his chances of succeeding. So he should by no means be bothered by the prospect of you being wounded, especially considering he barely knows you.

“I want to know you.”

Dazai blinks as your words suddenly ring through his head again, startled by his own thoughts. His brows furrow even deeper because no, that can’t possibly be the reason why. He supposes it might be influencing it a bit because people who want to know him are few and far between, so the thought of meeting someone who actually gives him the time of day and almost losing them right away is unfortunate. It makes sense that it’s making him more irritable, especially when it’s something he’s curious to see play out and it’s something that could’ve been easily prevented.

Oh, he realizes, suddenly satisfied as he comes to an answer that he can quickly accept, disregarding everything else. 

That’s the issue—it was preventable. 

Dazai should’ve seen it coming and he should’ve been quick to take the necessary steps to avoid it. What he was feeling was irritability at himself, not at the fact that you got hurt. It wouldn’t make sense because Dazai doesn’t know you and even if he did know you, casualties are expected in this line of work. But you’re his assignment—his and Chuuya’s—Dazai has never failed an assignment before, much less with Chuuya, and he’d come this close because he’d recklessly let down his guard in enemy territory. 

It makes sense.

Much more than any of the other absurd explanations he’d been considering do at least.

This time when Chuuya makes a stupid comment, Dazai chimes in with some very necessary commentary, giving you a simpering smile and a wink before dancing out of the way of Chuuya’s much anticipated roundhouse.

Still, Dazai finds the troubled feeling returning again when his gaze drifts back down to the marks on your neck as he passes by the two of you with flourished spin, antagonizing Chuuya just to entertain himself with how red his face gets in embarrassment. 

But his gaze darts back up to your face quickly and he shakes off the unwelcome feeling, another quip on the tip of his tongue that abruptly dies when he sees your hand pressed to your mouth as you try to hide your amusement from Chuuya. Your eyes are turned up and your smothered giggles are just barely audible, the mid-morning sun casts an ethereal glow over your face and for a moment, Dazai is entirely stunned by the sight. He nearly trips over his own foot, and since he’s unsteady on his feet, he can’t avoid the way Chuuya predictably transitions from a roundhouse into a back kick.

He goes flying backward, all breath pushed from his lungs as takes the kick to the gut and hits the concrete hard a few feet away. He should be disgruntled, or he should at the very least retaliate with another mocking jibe, but instead, he finds his gaze fixed on you, watching as you finally burst into laughter, unable to contain it with the sight of Dazai sprawled out on the ground looking like a clown.

His heart rate spikes and Dazai’s hand flies to his chest, alarmed—becomes even more so when it doesn’t settle down. He rips his gaze from you to stare down at the ground, forcibly calming his heart and only when he’s sure that he’s got it under control, he looks back up.

Immediately, he loses control over it again, and this time it feels even more erratic, each thump resonating through his ears as you approach him, giggles quieting as you hold out your hand to help him up. 

For a horrifying second, Dazai thinks he might have a heart attack and that would be a lame way to go. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, he does not have a heart attack, although that means he’s probably going to have to go to Mori when he gets back to the base—death may have been more preferable to that. 

Great, he thinks bitterly, not only has he had to deal with Chuuya for over twenty-four now, but now he’s going to have to go see Mori and figure out what the hell is wrong with him. Or you. He wonders if maybe you have an ability that’s somehow affecting him, that would be a serious issue for future missions that the two of you might be paired for. 

But it must be that—it’s the most logical explanation. 

What a mess the past day has been, but…

Dazai thinks it might’ve been worth the trouble, eyes lingering on you for a few moments longer before he takes your hand, taking note of the odd jolt that runs up his arm as soon as your fingers wrap around his hand to help him up. 

He doesn’t notice that even with your fingers locked with his, his heart still beats out of his chest. 

“Don’t tell me you’re over here reminiscing.”

You roll your eyes before looking over your shoulder to focus your gaze on an achingly familiar face. Chuuya drops lightly to the ground behind you, using gravity to soften his fall as he approaches you.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you reply, folding your arms over your chest as a smile curves to your lips. “I was waiting for you.”

“D’aw, did ya miss me?” he asks with a sharp smile.

You have a retort ready to fly from your lips, but instead of speaking it, you sigh and let your gaze drift across the street in Kanagawa-ku that you’re standing in. Even after all of these years, the ground and buildings are still charred where that ability user had attacked you—faded now, of course, but you can still make out the faint remnants of the attacks.

Maybe you are reminiscing, you think to yourself, a heavy feeling settling over you. If you close your eyes, you can almost picture the rubble you were hiding behind, the jolt of fear you’d felt when you realized you wouldn’t be able to dodge the next attack, and then him.

And then Dazai.

“I did,” you admit, dragging your eyes from the ground to look back at Chuuya, whose smile falters a bit before softening.

“I can’t believe Mori had you abroad for three years,” he sighs, reaching out to squeeze your wrist. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Let’s head back to headquarters and have a drink. We can put on a movie.”

“Not one of your shitty horror movies,” you laugh, knocking your shoulder into his. You lean into him a bit as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, keeping it draped around you as the two of you start to make your way back to the base.

You hesitate—and Chuuya can feel your hesitation from the way he glances down at you, concerned. He frowns and asks, “What’s up?”

You let out a puff of air and then speak up reluctantly, “Have you… heard from him? Of him?”

You hate the twinge of hope that’s audible in your voice, despite how hard you tried to rid yourself of it. You hate even more the sympathetic look that Chuuya casts you; he knows who you’re talking about instantly—of course, he does, there’s only one person it could be—his lashes lower and his arm drops back to his side. 

“I saw him,” Chuuya says after a few moments. Your eyes widen as your head snaps toward him, waiting for him to continue. “... Met him. He’s part of the Armed Detective Agency now. Got himself captured by us to try to get information to help his new protege.”

“Oh.”

Your throat feels tight. Too tight. Swollen. Your eyes sting painfully and you have to force yourself to take a deep breath. The Armed Detective Agency. New protege. You don’t know if you feel bitter or relieved. Bitter because he’s found a place somewhere without you, relieved because he’s alive and okay. 

His defection still doesn’t even feel real after four years, it’s not like you’ve been in Yokohama long enough to fully process it, but god… you could still imagine him coming up behind the two of you with a snide comment to antagonize Chuuya, eyes trained on you to watch the way you laugh at Chuuya’s reaction. The wistfulness hits you so hard that it almost knocks the air from your lungs—not for the first time since he left, you yearn, you miss him, you want him, and now that you’re finally back in Yokohama after so many years abroad, it’s all the more intense.

How unfair, you think, nails biting into your palms as you stare ahead.

“Do you think he’s replaced us?” You try to keep your voice light, but you think you fail.

Chuuya lets out a bark of laughter. “He can certainly try.”

Your lips curl up at Chuuya’s words, gaze flickering down to the ground. “Yeah, you’re right,” you agree quietly before asking, “Did he seem… okay?”

Chuuya rolls his eyes. “I’m not talking about that shithead anymore,” he tells you. “I’m sure he’ll come looking for you now that you’re back. Let’s go home now, yeah?” 

The thought of Dazai coming to look for you makes your stomach twist with anxiety; after so many years apart, you just don’t know what to expect… but you suppose you’ve never really known what to expect from him, so you’ll just handle him the same way you always have. Except maybe not as kindly.

But you don’t have to worry about that yet.  Instead, you smile and bump shoulders with Chuuya again.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

[doctorforks]

beast dazai is considered a tragic character for all the obvious reasons: carried the weight of the memories of his other selves and using that knowledge to save oda from his fate even if it meant dying/killing himself in the end. This sympathetic narrative allows you to ignore the utter selfishness and immaturity of beast dazai and how he runs away from grief and pain, and I mean this in the best way possible.

The real tragedy of beast is that unlike all the other dazais, beast dazai never got the chance to meet and know oda, thence allowing him a new perspective to grow. In The day I picked up Dazai , dazai shows personal growth by the end of the novel, hence why he respects oda a lot. He is treated as a human being who still doesn't know much, and that brings comfort to someone deemed a demon prodigy. In side b of the same novel, beast dazai makes an effort to not know or bond with oda; yes this is because he wanted to ensure his survival by steering him away from the port mafia, but that event is what fundamentally changed dazai- gave him a better understanding of his own humanity.

Despite having all that knowledge of his other selves, of how each universe's timeline will play out, beast dazai didn't seem to grasp that it is grief that allowed the other dazai to grow and be a better person. He didn't understand that in the end, it is the time he (the other dazai) spent with oda that made living worthwhile, not his life. His state of living, the state of perfection in beast dazai's eyes, will still cause him more suffering than the act of losing a good friend.

Because if he had only wanted him to live, then he wouldn't have been so shocked when oda refused to indulge in a friendly conversation, not when he clearly went out of his way to antagonize himself in oda's eyes in tdipud. It's because the realization hit him: he wanted his time with oda to not be cut short.

Having memories of another oda is clearly not enough, he needed his own intimate friendship with his own oda. But with this elaborate plan and his reaction to being rejected, it's clear that beast dazai was trying to avoid pain. He could not accept the grief and pain of loss that he's seen and felt in his other selves, ignoring what came after: growth and satisfaction of ever having oda in their lives at all.

Pain is inherently human and by ignoring and rejecting it, beast dazai rejects his own humanity. Or runs away from it, because it catches up to him regardless. He still ignores it throughout the rest of the story, especially in other characters.

Beast dazai, as we all know, eventually takes his own life. While there is a reason as to why he did it, but it was still part of his plan from the beginning. Meaning, he knew this near fruitless pursuit would still have him unable to handle grief. It's an inherently selfish goal with an inherently selfish way out under the guise of "leaving the rest in atsushi and akutagawa's hands"

(Note: I do not mean in any way that suicide is selfish, but rather the narrative and character of dazai in beast alludes to this. Both concepts can co-exist in a fictional setting)

Despite seemingly helping other characters, beast dazai also trampled on both akutagawa and atsushi's self worth. This made them easier to manipulate for his grand plan, but ignores the damage he's done to them and other characters after his death.

For akutagawa it is the loss of his sister and convincing him of his monstrosity due to Dazai's meddling. For atsushi, someone he conditioned into severe fear and dependency on him, was left alone watching the person he cared so much for fall from the building. And yes, he left him in mori's care afterwards, but dazai should know more than anyone the damage the death of a loved one has, unless it doesn't apply to him.

In the epilogue, mori openly mourns dazai's death along with atsushi. Due to being free of his rigid responsibility as the pm boss, he had the liberty of finally being the caretaker he's always wanted to be but at the cost of the person he considered his son (in comparing dazai to atsushi, who he then calls his son + all the other stances where mori treated dazai like a son etc)

The thing that beast dazai, or dazai in general, tends to not fully understand or accept, is that he is also loved, and his death will cause others pain as well. I am by no means saying he should've thought of others before dying, but it is the lives of others that dazai from the main manga also cherishes after oda's death. Beast dazai made it his entire life goal to essentially protect oda, realize its not the only thing he's wanted from him and gave his raison d'etre a flimsy excuse of meaning in life. It's inherently selfish.

Selfishness is a common theme in bsd, and beast dazai fits right in. Atsushi's selfish desire to save people to give himself a justification to be alive, Sigma's inherently selfish nature of self preservation and identity and so on.

I've probably ranted for much longer than anticipated, but the point is: beast dazai's purpose is a selfish desire to escape pain and loss when it's crucial to the human experience. Dazai in the main manga seems to grasp this much better than beast dazai, it's something the latter is "missing", refusing to grow out of his selfishness and it makes his character more of a cautionary tale.

[sorcerersandskillusers]

Card Meanings in the new, The Day I Picked Up Dazai art.

Ok so im currently still in shock that were getting new day I picked up dazai content so bare with me, but onece again Asagiri has included playing cards in his art so of course I have to break down what they mean.

Lets start with side A (the right side):

First we see a joker:

While Gogol is the obvious fit for the joker, the card also describes Dazai extremely well. He is almost always acting like the fool in any given situation, even in the mafia he loved to be as weird and funny as he could as well as tease and annoy the people around him, something jesters famously did.

In fact, his dynamic with Mori is very close to how a king and a jester used to work, where the jester was the only person who was allowed to openly mock the king and would usually heckle him. They also played a key part in psychological warfare, which we see Dazai specialises in.

I think the whole; wit, intelligence and unpredictability kind of speaks for itself.

Next card is the four of spades:

This one is also really fitting, it shows how after the day I picked up Dazai side A, Dazai settles into his little routine of going to bar lupin with Oda as well as how he finally has someone who he can trust and be comfortable around. Finally, it is a clear message of optimism, something Dazai never shows before he meets Oda.

Next the two of hearts:

This one is pretty obvious, it's Dazai and Oda spending time at bar lupin. It actually fits so well, there's not much I can say about it other then how it shows the love and care Dazai and Oda had for each other (platonically)

Now for Side B (prepare to cry)

The first card is the three of spades:

Whyyyyyyyyyy... why Asagiri. This one is also fairly obvious but it has multiple meanings. It most clearly represents Dazai suffering in side B as he has to run the mafia without odasaku and live in utter loneliness while destroying all the connections he never got to have for the sake of a friend he never got to meet.

“It was hard,” muttered the young man. “It was really hard fighting Mimic without you in the organization. I had no choice but to take over for Mori and make enemies of everyone around me to expand the business. Everything I did was for this world’s—”

It also represents the moment on the platform where he nearly tells Odasaku the truth and goes with him to bar lupin, the horrible decision to abandon everything for Odas future

The next card is... the ace of spades:

The ace of spade has many meanings, most of which involve change or transition, but by far its most famous meaning it death. I really don't think I have to explain this one, Beast Dazai having the card of death has a pretty clear meaning.

But the ace of spade does have a secondary meaning, and this one is a little more hopeful, as it shows Dazai passing the safety of this world onto Atsushi and Auktagawa.

Finally, (it's a bit hard to see) we have the ten of diamonds:

I want to focus mostly on the highlighted part because it's what really applies to BEAST Dazai, he lived his whole life to create a world where what matters most to him, that Oda gets to be happy and write his books, becomes real. This card doesn't apply to Dazai directly, more to the fact that he made succeeding in his mission his only priority and discarded everything else.

Bonus round Odasku card; the king of clubs

the only card thats seen on Oda's section and one that clearly represents Odasaku as a character.

"King of clubs represents a dark man, who is loyal and kind. He is a good businessman, shrewd with money and investments, but isn’t selfish. In fact, the King of clubs is a very devoted father, husband and citizen. In a broader sense, the King of clubs encompasses idealized qualities of a fatherly figure. This card is universally considered as a very good omen."

I feel like this sums Odasaku up very well, the devoted father and loyal friend parts are just him to a t.

(this is also the card I think best represents Fukuzawa)

Right, I think I got everything, if you disagree with this or find something I missed, please reblog or comment with whatever you want to add, or send me an ask. I love discussing, and hearing other people's views as long as they're respectful.

If you add something, please add it in the post not the tags, so I can reply to it (or in the tags if that makes you more comfortable)

[lady-quen]

Places this in the sea of "Trahearne survives" AUs. Presenting Trahearne Inmorte, resident seething Firstborn plant bonded to a frankenstein bug. Alternatively, Trahearne if he picked ferocity in the character creator.

Anyway, finally posting about my version of the good ole Marshal, lovingly dubbed Crankhearne - aka Risen Lich Trahearne, revived immediately post-getting to know his sword too closely, courtesy of Morivitae, ( @commanderteag ) the Pact's pet Scion of Zhaitan. Having kept a dragon of dubious morals on a metaphorical leash, Trahy promptly gets UNO reversed. These two start toxic but get better over time, creating a fun contrast to the Commander of the verse, Aestus, who belongs to @mithosis.

Similarly to my own Commander, Mael, he keeps his condition as a lich secret from everyone aside from his closest circle. I swear I'm not collecting undead plants, the Zhaitan Scion Champion opportunity was just far too good to pass up. Have some more screenshots, and more (a lot more) lore ranting below the cut.

The very last thing the Pact Marshal expected when waging war against Zhaitan was to strike a bargain with Zhaitan's child. Information against his master and aid in cleansing Orr - in exchange for freedom once the Elder Dragon was slain. But, still, keeping a beast of that caliber on a leash proved a challenge, even when he could shapeshift more or less into mortal shape. After all, an ancient beast that subsisted on eating life force and grafting foreign body parts to itself did not take to Tyrian morals immediately. It wasn't a partnership by any means - a monster was a monster, but so was a promise. As long as the creature called "Morivitae" behaved, he could prove an asset against the other Dragons. A weapon. A wildcard. But then, awakened Mordremoth. The Maguuma disaster. His greatest failure, and, ultimately, his end. A final request for the Commander to take Caladbolg from his shaking hands and strike. But something within the Death Scion stirred at the sorrow. At the Commander's cries. An inkling of emotion, a faint flicker of something unfathomable. And gold eyes opened again. Welcome, O Champion of Shadow and Death. And now, the Marshal was on a leash of his own.

Trahearne went to the Domain of the Lost when he died, and time flowed differently there. So he spent "days" wandering and fighting the phantoms that took his name and face, just like the Commander. He met the Judge but there was no crisis in the Mists, so no offer to come back like during PoF, just gotta accept death but also have to process it first. Poor Trahearne was dissociated the whole time, thinking he was Mordremoth. He had to be given a second name to latch onto until he found his real one - and then he was ripped out of the Mists by Mori just before he could claim his rightful rest. Needless to say, waking back up a Risen of all things and cut off from the Dream did not do his mental health any favors.

"I don't remember my name but I was something horrible. You mustn't let me into the afterlife. I can't destroy it, too..." "You must find your name before you continue onward, wherever your final destination lies. If you fail, your soul will fade." "Good. I want to fade. I need to." "No, you must find the truth. That is the law of this place. Your spirit is noble, there is no malice in you. But there is suffering, and this isn't your final punishment." "I'm fading. I can't tell how - why - I can't move anymore. I need to... what am I..." "You are.. Inmorte, The Lost Wanderer. This name I give you now so you may continue. Hold onto it tightly and find your purpose. Your real name." "...I... I will."

Following his resurrection, he continues to lead the Pact as its Marshal, and is adamant on never using a mask nor mesmer illusions to cover his face - wearing his disfigurement openly in solidarity with all the other sylvari mutilated by Mordremoth's influence. There are questions as to why the Marshal was torn from the Dream and his glow changed to a necromantic green, but not many dare seek the truth of their own accord. Trahearne becomes a much more fearsome, decisive leader - going from scholar to truly formidable strategic mastermind, wanting nothing more than to ensure the tragedy of Maguuma never repeats.

"It's not mere confidence, it's pathological. As though everything stopped mattering back in that jungle, and yet I am ever more determined to see things through til the end. It's the only reason I can justify existing in this state."

The only instance where he does use illusions (excluding stealth missions, of course) is over his hands - due to an unfortunate incident where Caladbolg completely burned off the flesh from his fingers. As a result, his real hands are skeletal. This is due to his obsession with the sword, practically never letting it go, to the point he once fell asleep holding it. Since he no longer feels pain correctly, the damage was done before he woke back up - and Mori does not seem to possess the ability to mend, only animate that which should already be dead.

Trahearne's obsession with Caladbolg stems from the fact he initially believes the weapon to be the only thing keeping his soul from being fully corrupted by the Dragon he is bound to - clinging to a hope that the Thorn could purify the death magic in him just like it had once purified Orr. Alas, that is not the case, but also he eventually finds he is not as doomed as he had once believed - growing into a Champion of Death and Rebirth under his Scion patron as they both find their greater purpose - a balance to Aestus and Aurene's light. Still, his destiny remains irrevocably tied to the very land that haunted his Dream and cursed him with a seemingly impossible task.

"You're the First of the First, born in the garden of Eden and destined to purify a sunken hell risen from the depths on the other side of the sea. A task thought impossible, especially as your siblings begin to rise around you with destinies that seem more achievable. Compelled, you spend over twenty years studying the land of the walking dead, so much that the stench of it all is all but branded into your flesh. It's all you see when you sleep. The neverending expanse of bleak, gray-brown rock and twisting anemone and tide-torn ruins. Nothing living grows in Orr. It's all absolute desolation. There are none of your siblings there and you're so terribly lonely. ...In all your years, you never thought this could happen. With the Commander at your side and the son of Zhaitan mutinying against his father, Orr blooms again. The Artesian waters run clear, and life wanders slowly back into the land. It will take years, many more years than you'll be alive for, but the weight is lifted. You can leave. It's over. With hope in your heart, you feel like whatever comes next will only be easier. It's not. You die. And you rise. You never left Orr, because Orr never had the intention of leaving you."

Perhaps, just perhaps - one day, when the sunken kingdom heals completely, his soul will be allowed its due rest. Until then, he has some work to do.

[multjverse]

Was it ever casual between Dazai and Chuuya?

🧵 A thread of pure casualties :

Was it casual when they simply hate each other, but the whole point for the author, Kafka Asagiri, is to let fans come up with their own interpretations because Bungo Stray Dogs is for us readers and viewers?

Was it casual when Dazai’s eyes always had a bit of white in them whenever he looked at Chuuya, since the day they met, knowing that Harukawa uses it to indicate a character feeling strong emotions?

Was it casual when Chuuya always stood in Dazai’s blind side, not only in the original universe but in every single one, since they first met?

Was it casual when Dazai jokingly said, “That’s why I love you so much,” when they first met at 15, even if it made both of them want to barf?

Was it casual when Dazai wanted Chuuya to get out of his sight but didn’t want to look away?

Was it casual when Dazai admitted that Chuuya persuaded him into not dying?

Was it casual when Dazai said that falling in love was just another feature incorporated into living, making it something that is bound to happen like breathing, while talking to Chuuya, whom he told, “That’s what makes me love you,” just before, and making him the first person to convince Dazai not to die?

Was it casual that in Beast, Dazai didn’t care about anything and actually killed himself, while in the original universe, the first time he wanted to try and live was when he met Chuuya?

Was it casual when Dazai firmly believed that Chuuya was human, even before having the confirmation that his ability only works on human beings?

Was it casual when Dazai was willing to destroy Yokohama if it meant answering Chuuya’s question of whether he was human or not?

Was it casual when Dazai’s ability is the only one that can bring Chuuya back when he’s using corruption, and that Dazai’s ability, nullification, is the opposite of Chuuya’s (allegedly) original ability, which was amplification?

Was it casual when Chuuya had 190 ways of enacting revenge on Dazai, while Dazai spent every waking and sleeping moment since the day they met—so for seven years—thinking about Chuuya, whether it was about ways to annoy him or kill him, while also having 27 volumes about him in Wan!?

Was it casual when Adam, a robot whose entire personality is based on perfection, said, “Master Chuuya and Dazai stood side-by-side. There was something surprisingly perfect about it”?

Was it casual when Dazai, someone who barely shows interest in anything, was breathless while watching Chuuya fight?

Was it casual when Chuuya told Adam that he wouldn’t trust Dazai just before saying that he’d need him to defeat Verlaine because he’s the only reason he survived Rimbaud?

Was it casual when Dazai trusted his life in Chuuya’s hands so much that when they were younger, they even made a tactic in which Chuuya could’ve shot Dazai and he still would’ve lived?

Was it casual when Dazai clenched his teeth when he saw that Chuuya’s wounds were deeper than his opponent’s?

Was it casual when the only places we’ve seen Dazai touch to deactivate Chuuya’s corruption form were his wrist once and his face twice?

Was it casual when Dazai smiled while confirming to Verlaine that, for him, Chuuya was undoubtedly human?

Was it casual when Dazai, a guy who thought about ways to kill Chuuya for seven years, at sixteen told Adam that he wanted Chuuya to live to see him suffer as a human being?

Was it casual when Dazai was so amazed by Chuuya’s selflessness that he smiled, a smile between annoyed and relieved, because Chuuya chose Yokohama instead of figuring out if he was human or not?

Was it casual when Mori said to Dazai on the radio that his wish of double suicide would be fulfilled if he died and so did Chuuya, and Dazai sighed and later clutched the radio to his chest, denying he wanted it to happen?

Was it casual when, in the subtitles for the stage play of Storm Bringer, Dazai said that Chuuya is human because “he would like me more if he were an artificial string of characters”?

Was it casual when one of the first things Dazai talked about after making his first-ever friend, Oda Sakunosuke, was how he met his partner, Chuuya?

Was it casual when Dazai blew up Chuuya’s car, sewed “hatrack” onto his coat, but never touched the motorcycle Albatross gave him or Rimbaud’s hat?

Was it casual when Chuuya opened a bottle of Petrus to celebrate Dazai’s departure, but said it with the most sour and saddened expression while implying he was alone?

Was it casual when Dazai got himself imprisoned by the Port Mafia, and while he could’ve just walked away, he waited there just to see Chuuya again after four years?

Was it casual when Dazai still had Chuuya’s phone number saved after he left, and Chuuya called him while drunk multiple times?

Was it casual when Dazai could still recognize Chuuya’s breathing patterns after four years of no contact?

Was it casual when, after four years and Dazai having a new partner at the agency, they still view and call each other’s partners?

Was it casual when, knowing it was just for show and Chuuya wouldn’t believe him, Dazai admitted that they did connect and that they were destined for a future where they were still together and possibly alive?

Was it casual when, after four years of not seeing each other, on the first mission, Chuuya still cared for Dazai getting hurt and didn’t want him to die?

Was it casual when Dazai looked pissed when Fyodor called his bond with Chuuya “shallow,” even though he knew they were putting up a show?

Was it casual when Dazai, knowing Chuuya wasn’t a vampire, recalled their moments together in the mafia as tender?

Was it casual when, in Wan! (which, by the way, is a canon alternate parallel universe), Chuuya admits that what he feels towards Dazai isn’t hate, but some complicated feelings?

Was it casual when in every universe, they are destined to meet and have an impact on each other’s life, whether it’s good or destructive?

Was it casual when in Dead Apple (anime), and so in the original world, Dazai defined Chuuya’s trust as beautiful because he used corruption while Dazai could’ve been dead, while in the Beast universe (movie), Dazai had to force Chuuya to trust him to use corruption?

Was it casual when in the Beast movie, Chuuya went on a rampage after Dazai’s death because Dazai never even told him why he would leave him alone?

Was it casual when Chuuya believed that Dazai, a suicidal maniac, was alive even when no one else did?

Was it casual when “the corruption in Chuuya’s body had already disappeared. Dazai had nullified it. He placed a hand on Chuuya’s cheek where it had been punched and smirked slightly. ‘So this is how you wake Snow White? Kinda violent, don’t you think?’”?

Was it casual when, in Wan!, it is confirmed that Dazai has talked about Chuuya so much that Atsushi subconsciously calls him that way out of habit?

Was it casual when, in Anthologies, Chuuya said that he and Dazai had an inseparable bond?

Was it casual when the director of Dead Apple, Takuya Igarashi, commented on their relationship in a bonus interview for the DVD, saying, “More than friends, they can understand and communicate as if they are one soul in two different bodies”?

Was it casual when Dazai and Chuuya talked about their favorite kind of dates to each other?

Was it casual when Asagiri confirmed that Chuuya is the only one who can predict and understand Dazai’s true motives?

Was it casual when the official art put them in romantic scenarios that are pretty common in Yokohama culture?

Was it casual when in official arts, Dazai and Chuuya are often seen with red camellias, which are often given as a gift to express love and passion, pink camellias, known to express longing, and white roses, which represent respect, reverence, and remembrance, often used to honor loved ones and express sympathy?

[nixnephili]

Fyo!Atsushi A.U. -Dazai...

Finished up some sketches from a while back of Fyo!Atsu Dazai~..

I feel like he'd really struggle with emotional management. Much like answering to different normal stimuli with genuine emotion.

There's a lot to be said about him...

Dazai is a conflicting character- in the aspect that he's acting out of guilt for the immense pain and suffering he has caused innocent people around him. People like Akutagawa, who were vulnerable and dependent on him- who he abused mercilessly and with no regard for the damage he was causing and which he may never reverse. And even though he acts on that guilt- he does very little for the victims of his own issues... thinking that tossing his past away is enough- I based this story concept of him on the idea that it isn't- that no matter what he went through himself, he REALLY hurt a lot of people. His trauma is no excuse to traumatize others.

`Mori: "You can play your games with whoever you want but you can't play them with me."

Osamu: "Everything that's ever happened to me was your fault-! It started with you-"

Mori: "It's always everyone else's fault and yet you keep playing yourself up to be the worst of the worst. All the time 'Oh if I hadn't done that', 'If I weren't the way I am-'. Well, you did. And you are. So who's at fault then? You ? Or the entire rest of the world, according to you.`

-Nix🌙

[xiaosonlybeloved]

Too Late~ Dazai Osamu

featuring:- PM!Dazai Osamu, gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned), Chuuya (briefly) warnings:- angst, hurt/no comfort, being hostage, mentions of torture in captivity, graphic mentions of blood and violence, major character death, lmk if i missed anything a/n:- im already sighing on looking at the warnings... it IS bsd i suppose.. well here's what im best at again, in a new fandom, so have some angst that is VERY late set some time before Odasaku's death

wc:- 2.5k || masterlist

Not many people knew what it was like to have known Dazai before he joined the Port Mafia. To be one of the few people who had been trusted by him. Keyword being ‘had’- for some, some unfathomable reason, he’d drifted away, leaving you behind, alone. Making you wonder if for some reason he wanted nothing to do with you anymore.

It hurt. It hurt that you could lose him so easily, despite having been with him throughout the years, making sure he knew that you would always be there for him, silently tending to him after yet another attempt. It hurt because you had no idea what you did wrong to push him away. It hurt because he didn’t care anymore, for you, for them, for your shared childhood. 

A fool could have probably known that you shouldn’t have gotten so close to the brunette, that he leaves nothing but a trail of suffering and sorrow in the wake of the people who dared to care for him. You, however, argued that he wasn’t like this before. At all. Again, a fool’s excuse.

Perhaps the Port Mafia had changed him, so much more than it changed you. Because now, he was completely unrecognisable, almost like he was a different person altogether. And you can’t help but dully wonder where the man you once knew almost inside out went, the man who once did his best to stay with you no matter what, when he abandoned you yet again during a joint mission ordered by Mori, citing some logical reasons of why it was better for you to not be with him during a mission. (Like always.) Not even bothering to get your opinion or response, something he never did before joining the Mafia.

You watch silently as the brunette slowly disappears into the horizon, leaving you behind. Again.

That night, as you return to your apartment alone once again, (Bittersweet memories surface in your mind- young Dazai cheerily walking you back home, laughing.), you get the distinct feeling that something is off. You are a mafioso after all, you need to have a keen sense for danger to be alive in this industry. You’re instantly on high alert, even though you look calm as always, with your hands in your coat pockets, ready to pull out your knives in a moment. But you still can’t sense anyone following you. Just to be sure, you take a detour home. 

You take a deep breath at the threshold of your door, relieved to be back here. That sense of danger wasn’t as prominent anymore, and you were dying to get some sleep in an attempt to get a certain brunette out of your mind. You’d deal with whatever the problem was tomorrow- you’d had enough today. You can’t help but smile forlornly as you walk into your dimly lit home-

-And then suddenly you’re falling, falling, into a void of darkness, surrounded by the people you care, by him, hurling words at you that stab you like a thousand knives in a nightmare, and dumbly you realise that you walked right into an ability user’s trap, before the unknown ability takes your consciousness, bringing a silent darkness and pain. 

*********

Mimic. A foreign organisation, a group of extremely skilled soldiers who sought the Port Mafia for unknown reasons. People who are willing to go to extreme lengths to get what they wanted- much like your own boss, really. And the ones who are your captors.

You can’t move, you’ve been chained. You assume that they want someone valuable to the Mafia as a hostage, and apparently you serve the purpose well. And dammit, you’ve been completely disarmed while unconscious, you can’t feel a single weapon on you. You’re alone, too, but there’s definite signs that someone’s been here, multiple times. There’s also an assortment of sharp weapons some distance away from you, and you think its cruel to leave them in your sight but out of reach. There’s no windows or openings either.

Footsteps echo outside the door of the room you’ve been kept in, breaking your survey of the room and your thoughts of escape routes. Two men walk in, dignified. It’s clear that they are war-trained soldiers. One of them stops talking with a grin, as he notices you awake.

**********

They want an individual from the Mafia on orders of their boss. They claim that Mori has been taking too long in making a decision, and they apparently hope their decision to take you captive will either force Mori to choose, or force you to give up the individual’s identity yourself in exchange for your freedom under pressure. But you can’t, won’t do the latter.

Because the individual they want is Oda Sakunosuke, Dazai’s new best friend, and you know damn well that he would utterly despise you if you gave up his identity, if you took away the one who gave him his reason to smile these days. Bitter thoughts cloud your mind, of how he abandoned you completely over some new friends, and you wonder if it would be better to just tell them. But then, your mafia sense kicks in, reasoning that if Mori doesn’t want his identity to be revealed yet, then you're probably as good as dead if you choose for him instead and return alive. (You would later realise that this thinking, too, was planned out by Mori, that bastard.) Your captors let hints slide that they’ll let your absence build up for a while, then let the Mafia know of your being their captive. Hopefully they do something. 

You’ll just have to do your best to get out of those damn bonds by then, or survive till then. This was a very convenient time to wish that Dazai had taught you his little trick on how to unlock handcuffs, you think wistfully.

*********

As it turns out, surviving is an extremely hard thing to do after a few days have passed since Mori was apparently informed about the news of your captivity. Mori still hadn’t responded with his decision. Proof being the various cuts and bruises littering your skin already, a few small bloodstains already on the wall and floor. Not too much. Yet. They were intent on forcing your answer out of you, and clearly wouldn’t mind going to extremes for it.

You did your utmost to not make a single reaction when the knife pierced through your skin again, despite the pain that shot through your body for the umpteenth time. Unfortunately, you were well trained on how to not divulge information in captivity- after all, the Port Mafia really couldn’t risk their insider secrets getting out. 

You were still intent on escaping, on getting out. You still had a flicker of hope in you, that someone would come for you, that he might come for you, despite the past few days proving fruitless. You refused to give up yet. You still believed in him, in them, that you wouldn’t be abandoned so easily by your kin.

‘Such a naive belief’, you would dully think some days later.

********

Hope seemed like such a foolish thing now. You had lost track of time in the room without windows. No idea of how many days or weeks had passed. They weren’t coming for you. Of course they weren’t. You weren’t that important anyways, easily replaceable. Casualties happened often, what did it matter if someone died by being taken hostage? You truly attempted to free yourself, many times. You never succeeded, and each time you only received more wounds as punishment. Your captors were merciless, to say the least.

Wounds. That seemed like a small word to use at this point, with how battered and bruised you were. Your clothes were bloodsoaked, and you’d lost count of the number of scars and cuts you’d gained from your captors a long while ago. You could sense they were getting extremely frustrated by the lack of response. You didn’t mind, you didn’t care. You’d even stopped screaming when they cut you particularly deep- you just didn’t have any strength left in you at all. You passed out a few times from extreme blood loss. You could almost hear Mori in your mind, scolding you to get up already. 

Mori. Of course, everything was probably a part of his heartless plans, fully willing to use any number of pawns for their execution.

At this point, you just wanted to be put out of your misery.

Your wish was granted some time- days?- later.

*******

Dazai was initially relieved when you didn’t show up to your next joint mission. He wouldn’t have to ensure your safety and hide his feelings again. But he’d quickly figured out that something was wrong when you didn’t show up again, and again, and you were nowhere to be seen around the Port Mafia buildings either. He’d gathered up the courage to go to your apartment, but had immediately sensed the ability at the entrance and deactivated it. That was what confirmed it for him, and finally, he allowed himself to feel fear for his childhood best friend. For you.

He was well aware that he didn’t deserve to, after how terribly he treated you in an attempt to protect himself from his emotions. His only defence was that he was afraid of hurting you- he knew his reputation well. But that didn’t matter right now- he had to find you. Except not a single person had a clue of your whereabouts. The only person he hadn’t questioned yet was Mori. 

Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to go beyond the doors of Mori’s office. He was scared. Scared of what he’d find.

Again, that would prove to be one of his biggest mistakes, when Kouyou grimly approached him, having accidentally obtained information about you that she wasn’t even supposed to know in Mori’s office. Kouyou cared for you enough to let Dazai know of your situation.

Dazai felt sick to the core when he saw the single picture attached in the message Kouyou sent him, along with a decision to choose between you and the future-seeing ability user- Odasaku. His heart dropped into his stomach even more when he saw that the last message was a few days ago. What if-?

No. Dazai refused to think of that possibility. He’d track down the source of that picture, he’d hunt them down, make them regret their decision, and he’d get you back. He’d make sure of it. He had too many apologies he owed to you after all, even if they would never make up for all that he’d done. He would.

*******

You were surprised that their boss hadn’t shown up to interrogate you yet. You simply stared hollowly at the walls as the door slammed open and the highest-ranked individual in the facility walked in, knife in hand. 

Not a single piece of information slipped past your mouth, as he went through the routine torture process. 

Time passes, and you can see that he’s grown extremely frustrated with your lack of response. One of the others standing at the door, watching your misery, suggested that he simply kill you and get it over with. It was pointless to keep you around anymore.

‘Finally’ you think darkly. You didn’t think you could hold out for much longer. 

You close your eyes, not wanting to see your killer. Instead, you remember the people you care for, silently apologising to them for giving up. Somewhere, in the background, you hear the distant noises of shouting. Probably some of the other soldiers playing cards or something again.

Despite you willing yourself to not make a sound, a shattering scream tears itself out of your throat when you feel the knife harshly stabbed straight into your heart. Your killer twisted it roughly- another scream, your last- and then pulled the knife out. 

You feel yourself fall forward, double in on yourself, wrists held back to the wall. The agony is excruciating, but hopefully it won’t last long. To you, it feels as if your screams are echoing in the room, or maybe in your mind, and your vision has gone blurry in pain. But then, you realise through your numb haze that your screams do not sound like that- you’ve heard the sound enough.You realize that maybe someone has attacked your captors.

There’s a terrified shout mixed in all the clamor, and its a voice that you would recognise anywhere. ‘But there’s no way’, you think hollowly. No one cared enough to come for you.

Then you feel yourself falling forward suddenly, blood gushing out from your chest, into someone’s familiar arms as your eyes close. The handcuffs are gone. Faintly, you hear a voice- his voice- through the ringing in your ears, saying something unintelligible to you. You can’t understand what's being said, but you struggle to open your eyes one last time to see.

And somehow, Dazai is there, holding you tightly, eyes full of panic and terror, everyone else in the room crushed to the ground. He’s saying something worriedly to someone behind him- Chuuya. You briefly wonder if you’re hallucinating, but decide against it- this all feels too real. This must have been the shouts in the distance.

They came for you. In the end, they came, albeit a bit too late. You feel yourself being lifted, and then Dazai is running out, holding you carefully as if you could break any moment- you’re already broken though. You feel the cool night breeze for the first time in ages, see the beautiful moon again. A small smile rests on your lips as you feel yourself finally fall limp in his arms. ‘He still looks as pretty as before, and maybe, just maybe, he still cares for you’, is what you think.

You shut your eyes again, surrendering yourself to the darkness beyond the agony.

********

Horrified is much too mild a word to use, when he sees your condition. When he sees you being stabbed in front of his eyes, when you fall limp in his arms. The next moments are a panicked blur, Chuuya saying something to take you somewhere, that he’ll handle this place. He runs straight out, towards the Mafia building, towards the doctors, towards the hospital, anywhere, anywhere you can be saved. 

But its already too late, he knows it when you don’t move in his arms anymore, when your bleeding chest doesn’t rise and fall again, and he doesn’t know what else to do apart from screaming in sorrow and fear, because he’s just lost the one person who understood him like no one else, who cared for him like no one else, who he stupidly pushed away, and its all because of him. He falls to his knees, still clutching your lifeless, bleeding body. Your face had a hint of a smile in your last few moments, and that is what finally breaks him. All he can do is cry out apologies continuously, tears freely streaming down his face, for everything he’s done wrong, for how he’s treated you, for being too late to save you.

finallyyy, and as usual, votes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated also lmk if you guys want a happy ending :D

[jadeazora]

I feel like the Explorers games got away with so much shit for a Pokemon game, especially from the bad future onwards:

Upon arrival, you're almost executed by getting SHREDDED ALIVE, like that sounds like a horrific way to go. You also have to watch your partner, who is innocent in everything besides joining up with you and who looked up to Dusknoir, beg him to explain what's going on and why he's doing this, only to be completely ignored.

Grovyle being tortured by Spiritomb and (in Sky only) Dusknoir's later plan of having it destroy Grovyle's soul so he can possess his empty husk, go back in time and then betray and eliminate the heroes. Christ.

You basically come to the current time as what amounts to a su!c!de mission to put a stop to the bad future. You really only are told this later, but it's clear that you and Grovyle accepted that sacrifice that would have to be made in order to save the world. (Ofc, we find out in Sky that it seems a higher power saved everyone, but Grovyle didn't know that. Dusknoir's main motivation for doing everything he did was because he was afraid of disappearing, of dying, like, nobody foresaw that divine intervention.)

You pretty much die at the end of the main story, tho Dialga brings you back. If you play Sky, you'll be sitting thru a cutscene where Celebi and Grovyle cuddle together as they (believe they're about to) essentially die, watching the sunrise together.

The false Cresselia. Like, you and your partner are almost mislead into kys because your existence is said to be causing a distortion in space-time, which does make sense considering that, as far as the player knows, the timeline they were from and everyone else in it is gone.

The first time "she" gets in proper contact with you is when Azurill (a very young child) is put into an unwakeable nightmare.

There's even a part where you wake up after one of those Cresselia dreams (that your partner is also having btw) and they're gone. They're fine, but it's still an uncomfortable few seconds.

When you both decide against kys, there has to be some other way to stop the distortion from spreading, "she" sends Palkia after you in order for it to kill you. (And is soon after revealed to be Darkrai, who wants to put the world into an endless nightmare and who was responsible for the bad future and all the suffering happening in it.)

Darkrai trying to manipulate the player into siding with them, by giving them a vision of their partner joining him and telling the player that Darkrai will kill them if they alone join him.

There's even mild implications that Darkrai, even after losing his memories, might still have some ill intent within. (I feel a his lines about the darkness sleeping within him are a bit vague on whether it's just a "type" thing, or if he means that even the memory erasure hasn't quite shaken that evil nature.)

(Btw, there's an old fan-animation pairing Sky with Higurashi's Nageki no Mori that fits the mood of the game well.)

[literaturewit65]

An Analysis of Dazai's Reactions to Death

Disclaimer: I haven't actually finished reading the manga yet so all information in this post is taken solely from the light novel and anime.

Spoiler alert: This post contains spoilers from 15, Storm Bringer, Dark Era and the anime of BSD

Warning: This post is about Dazai so naturally it contains mentions of su*cide and death.

This is my first analysis of BSD, so please be kind. That said, any constructive feedback is welcome. If you have any further questions about my perspective, please feel free to ask!

Then without further ado...

Bungo Stray Dogs written by Kafka Asagiri and illustrated by Sango Harukawa is a multimedia series which explores the complex nature of the human mind through its characters. One such character, Dazai Osamu, inspired by the 20th century Japanese novelist of the same name and his well-known work No Longer Human, is a character known for his eccentric behaviour and fascination with suicide. Often times his behaviour may come off as bizarre on first sight and one might think it is purely for comic relief. This essay aims to explain the reason behind his strange reaction to the sight of the murdered woman in episode five season one of the anime, or this scene.

This screenshot was taken from timestamp 6:27 of Season one episode 5 of Bungo Stray Dogs.

This will be done by exploring first Dazai’s reaction to death between the ages of 15 and 18 or during Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen and Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era, second by exploring the fact that Dazai is aware that he is different to other people, and finally by exploring the way he deals with this difference and with strong emotions during the present of Bungo Stray Dogs or at the age of 22.

Dazai’s reaction to death was unusual to say the least when he was the age of 15 and it continue to be so at the age of 18. There are three main instances where the audience watches Dazai react to death at these ages. In consecutive order from Dazai’s perspective—rather than the order they were published—is first, during the seventh light novel, Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen just after the fight before Dazai and Chuuya go to meet Randou. This scene takes place from page 53 to 54 of the English version of the light novel. There are several unusual points during this scene. But first it should be made clear that the audience has no real way of knowing what kind of experiences Dazai had been exposed to in his early life which could have a bearing on why he behaves this way at this age. There are plenty of theories but at the time of writing this Asagiri had not revealed what Dazai’s early life was like. Now, back to the point at hand. First it is unusual that a boy of 15 when faced with a dying man would ask him if he would like him to ‘end your suffering with this gun,’ (p. 53) however this may be disregarded considering that Dazai although not a part of the mafia seems to have been with Mori for some time at this point. What is more strange however is what Dazai says next ‘…But you’re showing me something extremely valuable—your death—so I want to pay you back,’ (p. 53). He then proceeds to repeatedly shoot the dead body while laughing. This could be chalked back to some sort of love for seeing others in pain if it wasn’t for what Dazai said before. He states that he sees the man’s death as valuable. There is no way of knowing how often Dazai had been exposed to death before but the fact that he views it as valuable suggests that at this point perhaps he had not been desensitized to it. Viewing death as valuable though is, decidedly, an unusual perspective for a 15-year-old boy to take.

The second time Dazai experiences death is also in the same light novel when Randou passes away. Those who have read Storm Bringer will know that’s not precisely what happens but at this point there is no evidence to show that Dazai has any idea Randou isn’t really dead and so it will be treated as another experience of death. There is a marked difference in Dazai’s behaviour in this instance compared to the one highlighted above. This scene takes place in Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen on pages 118 and 119 of the English version. Whether this difference in behaviour is to be attributed to the fact that Dazai probably knew Randou to some degree or to the fact that Chuuya had earlier highlighted to him the fact that his behaviour in the earlier scene was abnormal is up to interpretation. However, while his behaviour is more normal than before it is still rather unusual. During this scene Dazai seems more aware of the sensitive nature of what is happening because he asks Randou if he has any last words and continues by saying, ‘…If you have any final wishes, we’ll see what we can do to—’ (p. 118). This shows that he is sensitive to what’s happening and that it requires a certain type of behaviour, but it is still rather unusual given that this man is dying because of Dazai’s doing and the fact that Randou was trying to kill the former and Chuuya a few moments ago. Additionally, after Randou explains about what happened between himself and Verlaine before Verlaine betrayed him Dazai goes off on a tangent about the ‘inevitable destruction’ caused by ‘a fight between two skilled spies’ (p. 118). While Asagiri may have chosen to have Dazai say this in order to make it more clear to the reader why Randou tried to absorb Arahabaki, it is still a strange thing to do at somebody’s death bed. This being said, it is clear that Dazai is a lot more respectful at Randou’s death than he was at the G.S.S. officer’s death in the scene highlighted before as Asagiri states, ‘Both Chuuya and Dazai quietly listened as if there was something in what Randou was saying that they couldn’t allow themselves to miss,’ (p. 119). While it is possible Dazai is simply imitating Chuuya’s behaviour here in order to seem more normal it seems more likely that Dazai knows how to react better to the death of a person he knows and this idea is reinforced by his reaction to Odasaku’s death in Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era, which will be explored shortly. It is clear, however that Dazai is affected by Randou’s death in some way when the novel states ‘Some things, however, would not return to normal: the body of a man who no longer felt cold, and the hearts of the two boys who stood rooted to the spot, staring at him,’ (p. 119). This shows that Dazai is affected by death, but he seems to interpret it and deal with it in unusual ways.

The final example of when Dazai experiences death takes place three years later during the second light novel, Osamu Dazai and the Dark Era, when Dazai is 18 years old. At this point he has been in the mafia for three years, so he has probably experienced death quite a bit between now and when he was 15, however this is the death of the person who is probably the only one who ever understood Dazai—with the exception perhaps of Chuuya—and who cared for him in a way which was arguably like a father. This scene takes place from page 159 to 161 of the English version of the light novel. This scene is arguably the most interesting in terms of Dazai experiencing death for several reasons. One of those reasons is that while the scene deals with Dazai’s emotions, it does not deal with his reaction to Odasaku’s death but rather with his reaction to what Odasaku says, which causes a dramatic shift in his world view and which, as any reader will know, ultimately causes Dazai to leave the mafia and strive to become a better person. While the scene does start by dealing with Dazai’s reaction to Odasaku’s death the majority of the middle of the scene is spent on Dazai’s reaction to what Odasaku says to him before returning to his reaction to his death. The scene begins with Dazai rushing into the room, calling Odasaku’s name. This is pretty normal behaviour for anime and manga characters on seeing someone close to them dying. But Dazai then proceeds to say, ‘You’re such an idiot, Odasaku. The biggest idiot I know,’ (p. 160). That is arguably an unusual thing to tell your friend on his death bed, but compared to other things Dazai has done it’s not that abnormal. The scene continues with Dazai saying that Odasaku didn’t have to die. Which is standard behaviour. Then Odasaku says he wants to tell Dazai something. He proceeds with his statement about Dazai stating that he’s looking for his reason to live in the mafia and telling him that he won’t find it. The scene then proceeds to explore the idea that Dazai has finally realised how well Odasaku knows him. The rest of this scene is spent exploring this idea as well as Odasaku’s advice to Dazai. It only actually returns to Dazai’s reaction to Odasaku’s death at the end. By stating ‘Dropping to his knees by Odasaku’s side, Dazai looked up to the ceiling and closed his eyes. His tightly shut lips faintly trembled. The smoke from the cigarette rose straight up to the top. Nobody said a word,’ (p. 161).  The strangest thing about this scene is arguably, that Dazai doesn’t cry. It’s possible that he was holding back tears, based on this description but the fact that it is only implied and left up to the readers interpretation suggests that Asagiri didn’t want to explicitly state that Dazai was crying. In the anime version of this scene as can below there is no hint of Dazai’s eyes being shinier than they usually are when he has lights in his eyes.

This screen shot was taken from time stamp 21:33 of episode 4 of season 2 of Bungo Stray Dogs.

After that the scene zooms out so that Dazai doesn’t have a face as can be seen here.

This screen shot was taken from time stamp 21:38 of episode four of season two of the anime.

This suggests that the decision to not show if Dazai was crying was deliberate. Given how much Odasaku means to Dazai, and that he had just realised how well Odasaku understood him it seems unusual that he would not cry.

The combined evidence of these three scenes suggests that Dazai behaves rather unusually in regard to death but that he seems to process it more normally when the person is closer to him than when it’s a stranger, where his behaviour is decidedly strange. Regardless of his closeness to the person however, evidence would suggest that the way Dazai deals with death is different to other people to a greater or lesser degree.

Now, how does all this have a baring on Dazai’s behaviour many years later in episode 5 season 1 of Bungo Stray Dogs? It has a baring on it if one accepts the fact that Dazai is aware that his behaviour towards death is rather strange to other people. It is never explicitly stated that Dazai is aware of this, however based on his behaviour it is clear that Dazai knows he is different to other people. This is highlighted in a particular instance in the seventh light novel. This scene takes place in Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen on pages 53 to 54 of the English version. In this scene Chuuya stops Dazai from repeatedly shooting the dead body of the G.S.S. soldier. The scene commences with, “‘Quit that, you idiot […]  He’s already dead,’ said Chuuya, ‘Quit shooting his corpse,’” (pp. 53-54). However, it is Dazai’s response to Chuuya’s statement which shows that he knows his reaction is unusual. Dazai responds with ‘You’re right. When you’re right, you’re right. That’s the most normal reaction to have,’ (p. 54). Then as he walks away from the body after dropping the pistol he laughs. This is the scene as it’s written, “‘Ha-ha. ‘Normal.’ Ha-ha-ha.’ Dazai’s hollow laughter filled the cluster of trees, vanishing into thin air,” (p. 54). The fact that Dazai reacts by stating that what Chuuya says is normal and the way he laughs about it shows that he knows that he is not normal. If the idea that Dazai knows he is not normal is extrapolated, then it is implied that he also knows that his behaviour towards death is abnormal. If it is taken into account that Dazai realises his behaviour, particularly around death is odd it makes sense that as an adult he would want to hide that.

All of the above scenes took place when Dazai was still a teenager. However, it seems that even as a young adult he doesn’t know how to behave around emotionally charged situations. This is shown in episode one of Bungo Stray Dogs where Atsushi and Dazai are in the warehouse waiting for the tiger to show up. During this scene Atsushi is amazed by Dazai’s confidence and he states ‘You’re really confident, I’m kind of jealous. They called me a good-for-nothing at the orphanage. And now I don’t know where I’ll sleep tonight or whether I’ll be able to earn my keep tomorrow. […] No one’d care if someone like me were to die in a ditch somewhere. Yeah, I may be better off eaten by a tiger…’ this happens at 13:30-13:57 of episode 1 of season 1 of Bungo Stray Dogs. To Atsushi’s statement Dazai does not reply. He is silent for a beat with a neutral expression as shown here.

This screenshot is taken from timestamp 13:58 of episode 1 season 1 of Bungo Stray Dogs.

He then proceeds to state that he thinks the tiger will come soon. This is an unusual reaction given what Atsushi just said, and it would make more sense for him to comfort the boy. But he doesn’t. This is arguably because Dazai doesn’t know how to react in what would be considered a normal way in an emotional situation like this. If he doesn’t know how to react normally here it is unlikely he knows how to react normally to death. Now, it has been made clear above that he recognises his behaviour as abnormal, and it is likely that since his instinctive reaction is abnormal, he is unable to fake a normal reaction as he doesn’t know what this would be. Hence his unusual reaction in episode five season one. He reacts with such melodrama because he knows that his instinctive reaction isn’t normal, but he doesn’t know what a normal reaction would be, and he can’t just not react either thus he opts for this melodramatic reaction which, although isn’t normal still shows a rather dramatised version of sadness at the woman’s death which is perhaps more normal than what his instinctive reaction would be. And although the others at the scene who don’t know him are rather confused at his reaction it attracts less attention than if he were to react in a similar vein to his reaction to the G.S.S. officer’s death.

To conclude Dazai’s melodramatic reaction to the murdered woman in episode 5 season 1 of Bungo Stray Dogs it not just comic relief, there is a deeper meaning behind his eccentricities. He reacts this way because he is self-aware enough to know that his instinctive reaction to death is unusual and in order to not shock other people at his behaviour, he opts for the melodramatic response he gives since while still unusual it is more similar to the way a normal person might react being a rather melodramatic version of it.

[anonymousewrites]

Lavender for Royalty; Sage for Wisdom (Book 1) Chapter Twenty-Three

Kyoya Ootori x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Three: Lemon Balm for Sympathy

Summary: During summer term, the Host Club meets someone new, and Haruhi has to suffer. It's all in the name of helping family, though.

            “Haruhi’s missing the Host Club again?” said (Y/N).

            “She won’t complete her debt like this,” said Kyoya, tsking and thinking of money as usual.

            “She’s the one who doesn’t care,” said Hikaru and Kaoru, shrugging.

            “Oh, I understand,” said Tamaki. “Even though it’s the last day before summer break, Haruhi decided to skip again and go home.” He reeled back and hit the ground.

            “Tama-chan!” exclaimed Honey.

            “It’s no use!” cried Tamaki while Mori patted his back silently. “I’m sure she’s avoiding me. She talks to me and keeps her distance. Next she won’t want to mix her laundry with mine.”

            “She’s been acting normal with me,” said (Y/N). “Maybe she’s just finally cracked and can’t deal with you.” That, and during the manga chapter Mouse decided not to write, you kissed her on the forehead and she can’t deal with how she felt during it…

            Tamaki wailed. “Why?! Why?! Was I too strict with her?! Perhaps I plunged a knife into her tender maiden’s heart?”

            “Maybe because it’s summer, fervent lord?” remarked Kaoru sarcastically.

            “Haruhi has always kept her distance from you,” said Hikaru. “It’s nothing new.”

            “What did you say?!” Tamaki lunged for them, and Honey and Mori held him back.

            “Hikaru, Kaoru, don’t upset him!” said Honey.

            “Listen, we’re all sore that Haruhi ran away! We wanted to make plans with her for the summer,” said the twins.

            “Ah. You guys don’t know,” said Kyoya. All the hosts looked at him. “For the past two days, Haruhi has been going to pick up Misuzu’s daughter from a high school in a neighboring town.”

            “Oh, she did mention she had someone staying with her,” said (Y/N), nodding.

            “Kyoya, (Y/N), you never tell us these things!” cried Tamaki, still distressed. (Y/N) shrugged nonchalantly.

            Kyoya ignored him and flipped open his notebook. “Misuzu was divorced seven years ago. His daughter is a freshman in high school. She grew up with her mother and stepfather.”

            “I know why you have files on people in school, but why on Misuzu?” said (Y/N).

            “Haruhi was working for him, so I did a background check,” said Kyoya.

            “Aw, protective,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “This summer they’re overseas on a business trip,” continued Kyoya. “The daughter was going to join them, but then she decided to stay at Misuzu’s.”

            “We never knew Misuzu was divorced,” said Hikaru and Kaoru.

            “Why did Haruhi get involved?” asked Honey.

            “His daughter used Misuzu as an excuse to stay in Japan,” said Kyoya. “The truth is she can’t stand him. She tried to run away as soon as she arrived. Misuzu, in tears, went to the Fujiokas. You can guess the rest.”

            “Ranka would do his best to help, and so would Haruhi,” said (Y/N), nodding.

            “Hmm, okay,” said Kaoru doubtfully.

            “But why would Haruhi pick her up at school?” Hikaru sweat-dropped. “Is the Boss crying again?”

            “I understand,” said Tamaki. “I understand Misuzu’s sorrow so well that it hurts! As a fellow father, I cannot turn my back on him! Let’s go, everyone! Let’s bring back the loving relationship between Misuzu and his daughter!”

l

            “So this is the place,” said Tamaki, peering out of the limousine to see the (small) school. “Is Haruhi here?”

            “According to my calculations, we should have arrived just ahead of her,” said Kyoya.

            “I wanted what Misuzu’s daughter is like,” said (Y/N).

            “Oh, there she is!” said Honey.

            Everyone’s jaws dropped. Haruhi was wearing the uniform of the school—the girl’s uniform. Skirt and all.

            “So cute!” said the twins, Tamaki, and Honey.

            “Hi, Mei,” said Haruhi, greeting a girl walking out wearing heavy makeup and an angry expression. “I’m glad I found you.”

            “You again?” Mei huffed. “You don’t have to come every day. I won’t run away.”

            “But Misuzu asked me to watch you like a hawk,” said Haruhi bluntly.

            “What? Who is the heck is Misuzu? It’s Isao. I-sa-o.” Mei huffed.

            She’s something, thought the hosts.

            “What’s in that awful paper bag?” said Mei.

            “My Ouran uniform is in it,” said Haruhi. “I changed in a restroom. You didn’t want me to wear it, so I wore the clothes you leant me. Though I don’t understand why…”

            “Well, duh!” said Mei. “If you hang around me in a rich school’s uniform, people will gossip. And your regular clothes are totally lame. I like rich guys, but Ouran is way outta my league! Besides, you’re a girl, you should wear skirts occasionally!”

            “You’re right on the point, miss. I think we might get along.” Making his dramatic entrance, Tamaki stepped out of the limo. The rest of the hosts sighed and followed. “Hello. I’m Tamaki Suoh, and these are my agreeable friends.”

            (Y/N) smiled and lifted their hand in greeting while the others just nodded.

            A blush exploded across Mei’s cheeks. “They’re all so handsome!” She grabbed Haruhi by the shoulders. “Do you know these guys?”

            “Did you just say they’re out of your league?” said Haruhi, sweat-dropping.

            “You must be Mei,” said Tamaki, smiling. “Am I right?”

            “Yes!” said Mei excitedly. “I’m Mei Yasumura! Nice to meet you!”

            “You have such a nice tan,” said Tamaki, attempting a compliment. “Did you travel somewhere? Maybe Hawaii?”

            “Here we go,” sighed (Y/N). The Host Club was nice, but the way they interacted with non-rich people betrayed their utter lack of common sense and different culture.

            “No, it’s from a tanning salon,” said Mei, trying to play the insult off with a laugh.

            “And that special effects makeup is very nice. Are you performing on stage soon?” asked Tamaki, completely serious and not realizing how rude that was.

            An irk mark began to appear on Mei’s head.

            “That skirt is really short. Aren’t you cold?” asked Honey, used to the longer uniforms on girls at Ouran.

            “It must be a tennis skirt,” said Kyoya.

            “Hey, you’ve got such long false eyelashes,” said Hikaru.

            “Underneath all that you’re quite plain,” said Kaoru.

            (Y/N) dragged them back by the shirt collar and smiled at Mei. “I think you look nice. I admire people who put such effort into makeup each day. It takes practice.”

            Mei relaxed slightly.

            “She looks just like Misuzu!” said the twins.

            The irk mark reappeared on Mei’s forehead, and she whirled on Haruhi again. “Who are these rude people?!”

            Haruhi sighed. “They’re always like this.”

            “Mei, you’re staying at Haruhi’s house, right? I’m jealous!” chirped Honey.

            “Three people in that house? What a brutal regimen,” said Kaoru.

            “What about your own house? You could have stayed their alone,” said Hikaru.

            “As if!” exclaimed Mei. “My mom would freak if she found out. I thought I could crash at a friends place for a month, but instead my dad caught me.”

            “If it’s only for a month, why not stay at a hotel?” asked the hosts, genuinely confused.

            “I’d suggest you all stop talking now,” said (Y/N), still with an amiable smile.

            “Whatever! Let’s go, Haruhi,” said Mei. “Unbelievable.” She grabbed her by the wrist and stalked off.

            “But this isn’t the way home,” said Haruhi.

            “I need to blow off some steam at karaoke! This is your fault, so it’s your treat,” said Mei.

            “What an unpleasant attitude,” said (Y/N), crossing their arms.

            “Hardly the ideal guest,” said Kyoya.

            “You still shouldn’t have said all that about her. It was rude,” said (Y/N).

            “Mm.” Kyoya didn’t much care.

            “Karaoke, you say?” said Kaoru and Hikaru.

            “I’ve never been before!” said Honey.

            “So the commoners do love karaoke! Just what my research showed,” said Tamaki.

            “Oh, you researched that, Tamaki?” said Kyoya, amused.

            “If you’re coming, you better be giving us a lift,” huffed Mei.

            Tamaki gallantly opened the limousine door. “Of course!”

l

            Tamaki adored karaoke, as it turned out. He put his all into singing all the old Japanese songs, all the while staring happily at Haruhi in an effort to get her to compliment him. It was, of course, not working. As Tamaki finished, he bowed and grinned.

            “Who’s next?” he said.

            “(Y/N)?” suggested Kyoya.

            “I already sang,” said (Y/N). “What about Haruhi?”

            Kyoya had enjoyed them singing, which was why he wanted them to perform again. Besides, they looked so nice letting loose and having fun in a comfortable environment…

            “How about a duet with me, Haruhi?” said Tamaki excitedly.

            “No,” said Haruhi. “I’m going to get a drink.” She stood and left the room while Tamaki put himself in the corner sadly.

            Mei frowned as she watched Tamaki pout, and she cleared her throat. “So, um, what do you want to sing? I’ll sing one with you.”

            Tamaki smiled and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Thank you. You’re very kind, Mei.”

            A faint blush appeared on Mei’s cheeks. “I-I wasn’t trying to be!

            Tamaki chuckled. “What shall we sing?”

            “Mei, Mei!” said Honey. “What do you like besides karaoke? Me, I like cake.”

            “Oh, well, I like making dresses,” said Mei.

            “The same as Misuzu,” said Hikaru and Kaoru.

            “What?! I’m not like that jerk!” shouted Mei.

            “Why do you hate Misuzu so much?” asked the twins.

            “You don’t know what he’s like,” she huffed. “His room is so unbelievably girly.”

             I think anyone would have guessed that, thought (Y/N), a giant sweat-drop appearing on their head.

            “He gives me frilly dresses every year for my birthday, and when Mom first made me visit him, he was just so over the top!” said Mei. “It was horrible.”

            Misuzu is nice, but it could be overwhelming when he’s your dad…

            “He always liked cute stuff, but come on! He was a once a hard-working bank clerk,” said Mei. “What happened?! Now he’s a drag queen?!”

            “Well, Haruhi’s dad is also a drag queen,” said Tamaki.

            “But Haruhi’s dad is actually pretty!” said Mei.

            Poor Misuzu, thought the group.

            “And he didn’t leave his daughter,” said Mei, her voice growing quiet.

            Oh. (Y/N)’s gaze softened. So. That’s the truth. Mei was angry because she felt like she lost her father and he was an entirely new person. That would throw her off. It would be scary to have a parent change so suddenly while your parents also divorce. People feared change, and that much would make any child resentful.

            “I see. You were lonely,” said Tamaki gently, tone wistful.

            Mei saw his gaze on her, and her blush intensified.

            Uh-oh, thought (Y/N).

            “We’re back,” said Kaoru, appearing from outside with Haruhi. Apparently, he had also left to grab a snack.

            “Welcome back!” said Hikaru.

            “Look, Hikaru, a weird commoner drink,” said Kaoru.

            “Cool!” said Hikaru.

            From where he sat with the book of songs, Tamaki peeked at Haruhi again. Haruhi paused and finally looked back.

            “Um, Tamaki…” she began.

            Is she finally going to stop avoiding him? thought (Y/N), sitting up straighter.

            “Haruhi, come with me to the ladies room!” said Mei, dragging Haruhi out.

            “But I just went…”

            “We need to talk!” said Mei.

            Tamaki pouted at getting interrupted again, and the twins jeered teasingly at him. Honey sighed and took a bite of his sweet while Mori watched the door. (Y/N) shifted closer to Kyoya so they could speak without Tamaki hearing them.

            “She has a crush, doesn’t she?” said (Y/N).

            “Which one?” said Kyoya.

            “Both, I know,” said (Y/N). “But Haruhi’s hardly aware of it. Mei…She is. And if I know girls, I know she’s asking Haruhi to help her spend time with Tamaki.”

            “It won’t work,” said Kyoya. “Tamaki is too dense to recognize his feelings, but they aren’t going to change for anyone.”

            “No, but this could drive a wedge,” said (Y/N), frowning.

            “You don’t need to worry.” Kyoya smiled at them. “I doubt Mei can see Tamaki quite like Haruhi can.”

            “I suppose not,” said (Y/N), smiling in return.

            Across the table on the other couch, Honey smiled at Mori. “It’s simple for them to be together. I think they really have a chance. If they get around to be honest, that is.”

            Mori nodded. “Yes.”

            “We’ll just have to help them out a bit during this summer vacation,” said Honey.

            “Sorry that we took a moment! We’re back,” said Mei, a giant smile on her face. “Tamaki, I’m ready to do karaoke with you!”

            “Okay,” said Tamaki, smiling. “Oh, and Haruhi, we’re all going to hang out together during summer break. Are you up to it?”

            “If I’m not busy working,” said Haruhi casually.

            “I have time,” said Mei.

            “Yay! We can get another commoner’s perspective!” said Tamaki.

            (Y/N) frowned slightly, and Kyoya put his hand on theirs. They glanced down, and he squeezed slightly, reassuring them. (Y/N)’s heartbeat quickened at the touch of his hand, and, daringly, they flipped their hand over to take his and squeezed in response. Kyoya smiled to himself.

            “They’ll be fine,” said Kyoya softly.

            “I know,” said (Y/N), gazing back at him.

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[tachiharastanacc]

Tachihara gift exchange headcanons

Port Mafia-

Mori (and Elise):

-Tachihara probably gets him a nice pen or something

-Elise gets a coloring book and a set of colored pencils and she thinks it’s way cooler than Mori’s stupid lame pen (he also gets roped into letting her put bows in his hair. Again)

- Mori gives him like a bonus or something idk I really don’t like when they interact

- Elise draws him a picture of him and Hirtosu and gin

Kouyou:

- they’re not close so he wasn’t expecting anything, but Kouyou makes little gifts for everyone every year and he didn’t have anything to give back so he made a little flower out of metal for her

Chuuya:

- wanted to get him wine but doesn’t actually know anything about alcohol. Refused to ask Hirotsu, but he ended up getting carded and having to ask anyway

- ended up with some vintage wine that chuuya had mentioned to Hirotsu from both of them

- I feel like chuuya didn’t super know what to get him so he invited him out to go drinking and hang out instead

Verlaine:

- doesn’t know him. Didn’t interact at all. A single cupcake appears on his counter one day with a note just signed ‘~v’

Akutagawa:

- Tachihara got (read: spent way to long figuring out how to make) a dessert with figs for him

- Akutagawa got him a vase of hyacinths since gin mentioned that they were his favorites

Higuchi:

- tachi got her a basket of chocolate and a bunch of rom coms and agrees to suffer through watching them with her

- Higuchi knits him a scarf and it’s kind of janky but it’s addressed to her favorite little brother and he never takes it off ever

Hirotsu:

- Tachihara and gin get him a really nice lighter that’s engraved

- Hirotsu gets Tachihara a new coat (except he low key just drags him shopping because he goes on about how important it is for him to keep warm (cuz y’know coats are important in bsd)

Gin:

- gets him the set of pencils he’s been eying every time they walk by. And a box of bandaids

- he makes them a tiny knife they can slip under a dress for missions

Q:

- most people forgot about them but he ventured down to the basement with some sweets and his old fnaf books because you can rip fnaf kid Q from my cold dead hands

- Q gives him a really ugly mug they painted with the kit chuuya gave them. It’s definitely not food safe, but he keeps pencils in it

Kajii:

- Tachihara very distantly slides him a card with a gift card for a hardware store

- Kajii gives him a gun that allegedly shoots lemon bombs except it’s bright yellow and Tachihara doesn’t know what to do with it

Hunting Dogs-

Fukuchi:

- tachi stresses over what to get him until jouno smacks him and says the captain just enjoys spending time with them (this is canon btw, he says one of his happiest memories is when all 5 of them were together)

- Fukuchi also stresses over what to get tachi bc he feels like it should be practical but doesn’t know what he’d want and low key does he even deserve to give him a gift

- Tecchou tells him Tachihara is also worried and wants to impress him

- Fukuchi takes Tachihara out to do some father-son activities and they both have a good time

Teruko:

- most of Tachihara’s budget goes to getting things for teruko (she gave the hunting dogs a Christmas list in the group chat)

- it ends up being a lot of stuffed animals and weapons from all of them

- plus a coupon for a free piggy back ride

- teruko bitches to the others because Tachihara never actually asks for anything

- she ends up getting him a new holster and tools for cleaning his guns because it’s all he fessed up to wanting (he’s very happy with it, even if teruko calls him boring)

Jouno:

- Tachihara gets him a couple records (I feel like Jouno owns a record player, sue me)

- Jouno gets him a set of ceramic dish ware because he complains Tachihara has a bunch of cheap stuff like some college freshman (to which Tachihara points out that he’s a 19 yr old middle school dropout)

- the stuffed animal Tachihara originally refused also shows up on his bed and he keeps it this time

Tecchou:

- Tecchou gets Tachihara a new sword because the grip on his was getting worn down and trains with him

- Tachihara gets Tecchou a new yoga mat and set of weights

Bonus-

- ango and Tachihara exchange respectful Christmas cards

- Yosano gets a dead fish wrapped in newspaper on her doorstep, but it’s preserved in the snow and she assumes that it was from Kenji and takes it as a gift

- a bouquet of purple flowers is laid on a lone grave. The cold wind blows, and it almost feels like someone ruffling his hair