#he'll find those children and ADOPT them instead of eating them yep that's right

[pinkcupofcherrytea]

[Fic] Storyteller

Title: Storyteller Summary: He promises fortune and happiness, beauty and power beyond the limits of man. He is the beginning of the stories told in hushed whispers by the fire – and he leaves destruction in his wake. Relationship(s): Dazai/Atsushi, mentions of mostly one-sided Atsushi/Lucy Rated: T Warnings: Dark themes, a rather twisted character, Dazai is the ultimate Disney VillainTM, character death (sort of).

Note: Written for BSD Rare Pair Week 2017, day 4: Things Left Unsaid//Fairy Tales// “Who knows the end? What has risen may sink, and what has sunk may rise.” - H. P. Lovecraft, The Call of Cthulhu.

He has many names.

Those who do not know of him call him fairy, for the shining bright light he plays with in front of their very eyes.

Witch, for the endless possibilities he presents those willing to pay the price.

Godmother, for the misgiving idea that he will become that which have been missing from their lives, ripped cruelly from grabbing hands.

"Evil," those who lives long enough to receive a farewell cries, "demon!"

Wishbreaker, cursegiver, the one who starts the story before leaving crestfallen people to fend for themselves. The beginning of the end. Constantly smiling with a spring in his step.

Devil, liar, thief. A god, a saint, a trickster with no qualms. He touches the ground for a flower to bloom but when he turns his back to it, it withers back to the earth where it came from.

He is Dazai Osamu. He is a dealer of fate and no name given to him is wrong, since he’s been them all, nor is it right, for he is also nothing.

The coat over his shoulders hide the body of its master; the fabric takes the colour of its surroundings, its master’s bones fade from wandering eyes. Only the faintest of taunting laughter can be heard as Dazai sweeps past some ignorant villager.

He is seen when he wants to be seen, or when the story demands it.

(It’s the same thing, in the long run)

He appears in the castle of an arrogant brat dressed as a prince. Laughs as he throws a useless rose – magic in name only – and leaves the prince a dark beast and the rest of his scarce household as furnishings.

Dazai stops to help a girl sneak from her duties in order to have one magical night in her otherwise miserable life. He gives her a shimmering dress and shoes of glass, tells her she can keep them as long as she wants. At midnight, the girl’s dress turns to rags, the glass slippers are stuck on her feet – impossible to remove – and an enraged step-mother chases her out into the night.

In the large, unforgiving woods Dazai whispers the locations of little red riding hoods to the hungry wolf.

Dazai writes out recipes using poisonous apples, turns lesser princes into frogs and crashes parties for newborn princesses.

Meanwhile, Dazai scribbles all their stories down on his own skin. Black ink that etches to the paleness of his arms, chest, and back. Before each new encounter he carefully wraps over each letter with bandage.

It’s not allowed to know another person’s story before knowing one’s own.

A young mermaid finds him in a cave. He’s been under water so long his skin changed colour and the hair against his cheek feels more like seaweed than hair. Shells grow on his skin.

It’d been a great place for a nap. Silent and with fishes streaking against him hesitating, wondering if they could eat through the flesh offered. Perhaps they could feel the lurking darkness under his ribs, because they didn’t.

The mermaid has carefully plaited hair glowing red in the deep, will of steel, blue eyes, her hands pressed together as she begs him for a way to breach the wall between sea and land – for a way to turn a creature of the deep into a creature of the earth

A young man.

It always is.

A prince.

Also a common one.

I love him.

Ah, there it is. The trigger, the reason, and the final nail in the coffin. That which has deceived many to an early grave. Dazai doesn’t know if he should feel jealous or not.

Humming quietly, Dazai leaves the mermaid on a beach close to the mentioned prince’s castle; naked, shivering, confused, and with legs that thrum with pain for each step she takes. She cannot give the pain a voice, for Dazai calmly plays with it in his hands.

The prize for a wish is always more than you expect.

The prince she yearns for is a lonely one. The youngest son of many, has no kingdom that awaits him, isolated from the world where Dazai moves his pieces. Dazai takes note of his bright hair and gentle hands as he helps the mermaid – maid – to her newly crafted feet before he leaves the story to take hold. To fester.

Usually, no interference is needed.

Dazai is planning another plot by the time he throws an eye at the pair again. He sees them dance, sees the former mermaid swallow the pain and drag the prince around the market. There’s a strong fragrance of flowers and freshly baked bread. They move with ease through the thick crowd with the prince’s hand gripping the girl’s so as not to lose her.

It’s all awfully smooth and simple.

Dazai knows, without questioning it, that this story is in need of a twist.

He chooses the prince. The little mermaid has already been promised – fooled – once, to aim at her again would be a mistake.

The prince however, is easy to single out.

Imagine Dazai’s surprise then, when the prince turns around and smiles at him before he’s even finished mumbling the spell. Dazai freezes, but the prince takes his hand and squeeze it gently.

“Hello,” his smile is shy. Light. “What’s your name?”

Normal question. Dazai hears it often. Rarely does he speak the truth.

Rarely.

Dazai swallows the unfinished spell and feels it buzz in his throat. He follows the prince, who truly is a fine dancer. Perhaps not in technique, for he stumbles a little and laughs while going red, but Dazai notices that once they’ve started they can’t seem to stop. He put a flower in the girl’s hair but gives Dazai a bouquet.

“Careful,” the prince says kindly, “they have thorns.”

So do he, but Dazai only smiles and drags his fingertips over the soft petals. These roses have neither poison nor curse. Normal, beautiful flowers.

Dazai keeps them even as they wilt in his hands. He presses over the dry thorns hard, the dripping blood turns the bandages close to his wrist red at the edges.

The prince is a supporting character, important but not essential. If only Dazai could remember why, for his sparkling eyes takes over the story completely.

They return to the castle late. The red-haired girl already in bed sleeping soundly, not having any worries for the story’s new progression. She has no idea.

(No one has)

The mermaid screams when she sees them closely entwined in the grand hall. Her screams are empty, only Dazai can hear them and only he sees as she runs away with her hands against her face.

Her sobs echoes empty in the hall. Soundless.

Dazai knows he succeeded. There’s a twist to it all, starting from his stomach and curling under clothes like a malicious bug. It creeps over the pages, sullies the parts Dazai deliberately left clean.

He can see the ever after closing in but no words appear sufficient enough to fill the remaining blanks.

She too knows of it, and as dawn paints the sky a pink hue she waits for him. Waves lick the soles of her feet, the sand feels coarse under Dazai’s own.

  -

During all of this: Atsushi wakes from a dreamless sleep. He wonders where the man he fell asleep next to is. The bed is empty. As he pulls on a shirt and walks down the beautifully decorated corridor he notices that Lucy isn’t in her room either. Now a little worried he runs in the direction of the beach in hope of finding his friend and beloved.

 -

 She doesn’t shake as the threads keeping her body intact loosens. Starting from her legs the lines separating her from the illuminating, rising sun begins to bubble.

The prize for a wish is always more than you expect.

“Curse you,” her voice is hoarse as she uses it for the first time in many nights.

The end is near, and in death there is enough freedom for anyone to speak.

Any last words, the winds blowing sand in their eyes asks coldly.

“Curse you,” she chokes, “don’t hurt him- your word means nothing, but don’t you dare hurt him.”

And maybe the little mermaid with hair like blood had some magic in her all this time, for Dazai feels her curse – her promise – wrap itself around the void in his chest. Tighten around the vague contours of a heart that’s started to appear in the darkness.

He is Dazai Osamu.

So he finishes the job and watches the former mermaid dissolve. She goes back to the sea where she came from, this time without legs, without fin.

The newly formed foam rides back and forward with the waves, seemingly attempting to drag Dazai with them. To drown him, maybe.

Dazai contemplates whether he should let the water take him or not, but then takes a step back.

After watching the burning sun long enough for dark spots to dance across it. Dazai closes his eyes.

When he opens them again the blanks spots settles at the edge of his vision, the last punctuation mark stretches wide and Dazai can for a moment see a long line dragging over the sand, to the castle, down the cliff, and then towards the horizon.

No end in sight.

Perhaps that’s alright?

The story moves with each step he takes. The bandages covering up his past unravels and falls to the ground as Dazai moves to meet up with the prince running his way.

They lived happily ever after.

   (Stories like these always focuses on the bitter things. The coat that covers the storyteller also covers the eyes of the reader. There is never such a thing like objectivity.

So-

The despairing young lady runs through the woods. Wearing only rags and glass shoes, she finds an isolated castle with a beast of a man as its master. A prince with dark, slithering robes and a teacup for a sister.

A wolf roams the night, finds five lost red riding hoods and takes them in. They laugh, pull at his ears and pet his fur. He lets them be and they sleep together in a pile during the cold nights.

On the nights of the full moon, the ocean sings for the gentle prince.)

 THE END

Author’s note: Ahhhh, I actually managed to finish this! I love fairy tail AUs, so when I saw the prompt I knew I had to write something. This turned out... a little different from what I’d originally planned, but I still hope that you liked it!