#i hope she keeps this bsd thing at least to herself

[audhdazai]

hello to the 6 oomfs who have followed me today

our 10 year old niece started on bsd.

i've never talked about bsd to her directly prior to this

[redvoid-40]

A Game for a Kiss

Don’t ask me where this came from. I’ve watched BSD a couple months ago and of course I got the hots for the feral rat-man. -.-

Anyway, slowly I came up with a little plot for an arc with some OCs (weird calling them OCs, when they’re all named after past writers but oh well) and even thought about developing it, but since I’m not in the mood to write a whole multi-chaptered fic, I decided to just write this interaction between Fyodor and my main OC for the BSD-universe, Mary Shelley. You know, as a treat. >.<

I know the fandom is super small, but I thought someone might enjoy this, so here it is! :)

Also, Fyodor might be OOC (it’s hard to get a full understanding of his character) but I see him as creepy-pretty, with no qualms in manipulating women in ways that border on dub-con. So... TW: some making out; Fyodor’s thoughts making it clear his morals are more twisted than a pretzel. 

Anyway, enjoy! :)

Part 1 / Part 2 (NSFW) / Part 3 (NSFW)

“How about a game?” Fyodor proposed, smiling from ear to ear as he moved a chessboard from the side table to the coffee table in front of them. It was small, with tiny and expensive crystal pieces that had a purely decorative role, but he had never minded playing with valuable and irreplaceable things before, so why start now? Much worse to die of boredom than to shatter a hundred-dollar pawn. “I heard you had quite the reputation at the Chess Club in Oxford.”

“It’s been a few years since I last played,” Mary admitted as placed her glass of anise-infused gin on the coffee table and reached out to touch the white king, as if she was caressing a long-lost lover. “Not sure I’ll be a worthy opponent to you, Mr Dostoevsky.”

“How about I give you some impetus then?” Fyodor asked, raising a sole eyebrow as Mary’s eyes shone with interest. “If you win, I’ll give you something. Something I know you want from me.”

Mary quickly pulled back, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie-jar. “You’re already doing so, and I’m eternally grateful for it. Helping me retrieve Adam and right my wrong is all I could ever hope for and more, Mr Dostoevsky. There’s nothing el-”

“A kiss.”

Fyodor’s smile widened and his eyes darkened as a pink dusted over Mary’s cheeks. Her dark eyes made it hard to discern her emotions, but if he were to guess, Fyodor would bet her pupils had doubled in size at his indiscretion.

“I can feel your gaze on me, Doctor Shelley. Every time I walk in a room, your eyes peruse my figure like I’m an appetising treat,” Fyodor spoke, feet planted on the floor as he projected his body forwards, elbows on spread knees and the fingers of his hands intertwined. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you are interested in me in a way that’s not entirely professional or proper.”

Mary reached for her lowball glass and quickly brought it to her lips, downing the rest of her gin in a way that also wasn’t professional or proper. Fyodor watched her throat move, amused and admitedly a bit impressed at the pace at which she was draining her gin, wondering if maybe he should have proposed a drinking game instead. Who would fare better, her with her gin infusions or him with his chilled vodka?

“... and if I lose?”

Fyodor blinked, lazily trailing his eyes up her chin, passing by her pouting lips, blushing cheeks and up to dark eyes that stared at him so attentively. Lips curled at the corners, he raised a single eyebrow, urging Mary to continue.

“If I lose the game, what would you demand as compensation?” She clarified, and Fyodor exhaled at how she pressed her thighs together beneath her knee-length, black skirt.

“I’m not sure,” Fyodor said. “Why don’t you let me decide later? If I win the game, that is.”

Mary’s eyes turned away from his, moving down to gaze at the empty glass in her hands as some luster in her eyes darkened into distrust. “I think I’ll pass on your offer, Mr Dostoevsky. A kiss for an IOU? Your proposition doesn’t sound fair to me.”

Fyodor retreated, letting his spine fall comfortably against the back of the sofa as an airy laugh left his lips. The woman wasn’t as foolish as he had expected, at least; despite admitting in all but words she was enamoured with him, her shackles remained raised, certain she couldn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

Must be a woman’s intuition, Fyodor thought, remembering the looks he so often received from the fairer sex throughout his late adolescence and adult life. So many inviting smiles were thrown his way, only to morph into barely veiled jitters when he got close enough to touch. For all his years of manipulating the brightest of the brightest to have his way, Fyodor still hadn’t figured out how to lull women into unravelling themselves for him without promises of money - or some other stimulant - as reward.

“If I win I vow not to abuse my freedom, and will only ask for something of equivalent value to what I offer,” Fyodor proposed, lips relaxing in a smile he hoped Mary deemed trustworthy. “And if you feel I ask too much, you can deny me and I’ll give up my reward altogether. Does that sound fair, Doctor Shelley?”

Mary looked at him through lowered lashes and he could almost hear the gears turning in her head, lust and reason rotating in opposing directions in a struggle to decide.

“Fair enough,” Mary spoke at last, and placed her glass back on the coffee table. Her hand then moved to the chessboard and spun it around so the white pieces were close to her. “But I play white.”

Fyodor almost protested, but the smile Mary threw his way demanded enough endearment that he’d allow her this little bit of despotism just this once. 

He found he rather liked it.

---

To Fyodor’s surprise and satisfaction, Mary proved herself to be a worthy opponent. For the first time in years, Fyodor stood over a chessboard with furrowed eyebrows as he macerated the pad of his thumb between his teeth to the point he could taste iron on his tongue.

“Don’t do that. You’re hurting yourself.” 

Fyodor had just moved his knight when a hand seemed to appear out of nowhere and gently wrapped around his wrist to guide his thumb out of his mouth. Purple eyes narrowed, shooting up from the board to Mary, but his scowl melted into something almost benign at finding the woman hunched over the board, positively pouting. Her hand released his wrist, leaving an imprint of heat on his flesh despite not touching skin, and floated back to her, fingers twitching as they hovered over her pieces, debating their next move.

There was a brief knock on the doors before they opened and in walked Ivan, pulling Fyodor’s attention just in time to see the narrowing of his silver eyes as they fell on the back of Mary’s head. The glare disappeared as soon as it came, so when Mary turned around to greet the newcomer with a polite smile, he responded with an enormous grin and flamboyant mannerisms.

“I’ve come to check upon you, see if everything was alright,” Ivan announced as he stood behind Mary, silver eyes fixed on Fyodor with adoration. “It’s almost midnight.”

Mary’s eyes widened in surprise as she reached for the phone she had forgotten on the cushion by her side. “Oh my, there are twenty calls from Jane. I really should take this thing off silent mode.”

Fyodor’s jaw tightened as Mary’s focus shifted from their match to her phone. “Ivan,” he called with a firm voice that demanded to be the centre of attention again. “Please, let Doctor Shelley’s companions know she is safe and sound with me, and that we’re both occupied at the moment. Also, would you be so kind to have someone bring us something to eat? Something sugary would be best. I will have a drink as well. Vodka, chilled but no ice,” then he lowered his eyes back to the woman in front of him and smiled as he motioned to her empty glass. “Doctor Shelley, would you care for another?”

“Ah, I-”

“A gin for the lady, Ivan. Thank you.”

Ivan’s smile didn’t falter as he bowed his head. “Of course, I’ll have someone bring your drinks. As for sweets, I believe there are a few strawberry shortcakes in the fridge. Would that be to your liking?”

This time, Fyodor remained silent as he stared at Mary, giving her the illusion she had a say in this whole matter, that she could choose her treat in the way she couldn’t choose to refuse a drink. 

Mary’s eyes were glued to his and once again he noticed how her thighs rubbed together at his attention, leaving her phone forgotten by her side. Blushing, she craned her neck to glance at Ivan and nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Very well. Someone will bring everything here briefly,” Ivan said, moving his eyes back to Fyodor. “If you need me-”

“We will be fine,” Fyodor dismissed, purple eyes fixed on Mary as he gave her a smile that showed too many teeth. “I believe it’s your turn, Doctor Shelley?”

Mary nodded, turning her gaze to the chessboard. Her hand hovered while her brain readjusted to their match, reviewing the last rounds as it calculated the best moves she could make. It took her only a couple of seconds to review their entire game and make her move.

“Good,” Fyodor said, right hand rising to his lips out of habit, only to stop midway as he felt an intense stare on him. When he looked up, Mary was giving him a look that quickly morphed into a smile when he aborted the movement. He snorted and smiled back. “Worried about my delicate fingers?”

“You’re the one who said you have an anemic constitution,” Mary replied, eyes dropping back to the board. “You shouldn’t hurt yourself; it might take longer than usual to heal.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Fyodor said, letting his eyes move up and narrow slightly at finding Ivan remained still behind Mary, staring at him with a doll-like smile on his face and wide eyes. “Ivan, our drinks?”

“Oh, of course! My apologies,” the man said before bowing theatrically. “I’ll leave you to your match. Good night!”

Fyodor nodded as Mary turned back to Ivan, throwing a polite “Good night, Mr Goncharov”, before once more focusing her attention on their game, waiting for Fyodor to take his turn. He grinned, purple eyes fixed on her as he made his move, enjoying the way Mary’s lips pouted as she concentrated.

He really was having fun playing with her.

---

The game came to its inevitable conclusion hours later, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon and the birds chirped outside the window. After a couple slices of strawberry shortcake and a few refills of vodka and gin, Fyodor let his body fall back on the sofa, smiling from ear to ear as he stared at the pouting woman in front of him.

“Check-mate, Doctor,” Fyodor purred, purple eyes darkening in satisfaction. 

Mary stared at the board for a couple more seconds, as if a solution to her defeat would present itself to her. But when none did, she sighed in acceptance as her forefinger gently laid down her king.

“Don’t beat yourself, Doctor. It was a splendid game; the best I had in years,” Fyodor commented.

“Thank you, Mr Dostoevsky. But your words don’t make defeat taste any less bitter.”

“I guess not,” Fyodor said. “Especially since I have to claim the spoils of my victory from you.”

Fyodor didn’t miss the glance Mary threw his way, clearly torn between enticed curiosity and rational diligence, clearly still wary that he hadn’t made his wants known before their game despite his guarantees. Those intelligent eyes clouded with lust made him lick his lips, and her breath hitched in response.

“I want… a kiss.”

Mary’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

“I promised to ask for something reasonable, didn’t I?” Fyodor mused. “What’s more fair than to ask for the very thing I offered?”

“But then… why did we play?” Mary asked, head dropped to the side.

“Well, I don’t feel like moving at the moment,” Fyodor said, letting his knees fall open as his eyes ran over the woman in front of him. “So, since you’re the one owing me a kiss, you come here and give it to me.”

Fyodor had never seen someone’s skin change colour so rapidly before, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the bright red that bloomed all over the pale skin on Mary’s cheeks and neck. Without thinking, he brought his left thumb to his mouth, nibbling gently on the soft flesh as he regarded the woman with his own sort of unprofessional and improper interest.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” she said, eyeing the contour of his lips around his digit.

“Come and stop me,” he replied.

Mary swallowed his words with the same relish she swallowed her gin as she stood from the sofa, taking a moment to straighten the fabric of her pleated skirt, before walking towards him with soft, elegant steps. She came around the coffee table, sparing a glance at her toppled king before her eyes fell on his widespread knees and ran up his body until they reached his face. And while Fyodor was used to such appreciative looks, he didn’t expect the soft smile she gave him when their gazes crossed; it was usually at this moment that women stepped back from him, frightened by the intensity in his eyes.

Mary sat down by his left, so warm against the side of his body, and reached up with both hands to pull his thumb away from the abuse of his teeth. She brought his hand down to her chest to examine the damage, pouting when she saw the pad of his thumb was red and swollen, with a small laceration that had just barely crusted over and still threatened to bleed.

Fyodor watched her through half-lidded eyes, exhaling deeply when she glanced up at him. From such close-quarters he could make out the limits between the black of her pupils and the brown of her irises; just like he imagined, her pupils were dilated to extremes, wary of and eager for him. The red on her cheeks subsided, leaving a light pink colour in its place that enticed him to run his lips over the skin.

With a small quirk of her lips, Mary glanced back at his hand and shook her head at the damage on his thumb, before bringing it to her mouth to kiss the wound. The touch was soft as a rose’s petal but still knocked the breath out of Fyodor’s lungs. His warm breath gusted over the top of her head, then hitched as a soft, warm hand laid on his cheek.

“That was not what I had in mind when I asked for a kiss,” Fyodor spoke, smiling down at the woman. 

A chuckle escaped Mary and once again she gave him that soft look he was unfamiliar with. Before he could taunt her further, Mary tilted her head and guided his face down, letting her lips ghost over a corner of his mouth before moving to the other, soft and sweet. Hypnotised, Fyodor’s eyelids fluttered shut as he relaxed into these teasing touches that, despite being feather-light in their delicacy, made heat rush in his veins like molten metal, erupting out of his heart to his cock and leaving a trail of feverish desire in his veins that demanded more. More contact, more kisses, more pressure.

Fyodor pushed forwards, folding his body over Mary as his hand reached out to grab the back of her neck, only to freeze mid-air as her cold air took the place of her warm flesh. Somewhere he heard an unholy sound, and only after he opened his dark purple yes to find startled brown staring back at him he noticed he was the source of it. He was growling.

In a fraction of a second, Fyodor wondered about the stage he had set for them. Had he misjudged her interest? Hadn’t he offered her enough drinks? How much did she need his help? How much did he need her and her companions? How far could he push? Was everyone in the house still asleep? If she screamed, would anyone come to help?

Brown eyes narrowed slightly and Fyodor swore he saw a glimpse of himself in them; of something aware, astute, and artful. It was there for a moment so short he wasn’t sure he had projected the connection, so before he could let his brain process it, he was once more being subjugated to that look. That nauseatingly soft look no one had ever given him before, and that he did not know what to do with.

Without words, Mary bent the rules of their game and took his turn from him, cancelled aggression with tenderness as she pushed him back against the sofa gently before swinging her leg over his lap to settle herself on his thighs, pulling a pleased hum from deep inside his chest. 

“May I?” Mary asked, hand playing with the flap of his ushanka hat.

Smiling, Fyodor nodded, and Mary pulled the hat off his head. The motion left his hair messy, drawing a giggle from her lips as she combed the knots away so gently he couldn’t help but shut his eyes and relax against the caresses. 

“Your hair is so soft,” Mary murmured, letting Fyodor smell the gin and strawberries on her breath. He felt her fingers dance on his face, collecting his long fringe to push it back and away from his features. “And you’re so beautiful.”

Fyodor’s eyes opened slightly, just enough so he could stare at the rosy lips hovering so close to his. His hands twitched by his sides, unsure where to go or how to touch. He was used to grabbing, pulling, bruising and scratching; not to soft lips or delicate touches dancing over his skin like her hands ghosted over the chess-pieces only minutes before.

Mary’s lips let out a delicious, trembling breath before moving towards him, avoiding his own mouth altogether to give a kiss on his cheek before moving to whisper into his ear: “You feel so tense. Relax.”

Easier said than done, Fyodor thought, turning his head to bury his nose in Mary’s long, black hair and breath in the scent of her shampoo - something citrusy and common that made him light-headed in a way he only felt when his anaemia got the best of him, causing him to black out and wake up stretched on a hospital bed, with an IV bag of O- blood connected to his arm. 

Still, he couldn’t possibly lose consciousness now, not with Mary’s warm body grounding him so sweetly, not with her breasts pressed against his chest and the heat between her legs trapping him against the sofa’s cushions in the best possible way. Gently, like everything she did, Mary finally laid her mouth over his, allowing a whimper to escape the back of her throat when he pressed against her, not as much as he would have liked, but enough to hold back the most violent aspects of his desires, for now.

At the contact, Fyodor’s passive hands took action, sneaking up Mary’s thighs and hips, before slipping under her blouse to rack his short nails over her naked back as he used his hold over her to press her heat harder against his cock. He half-expected her to pull back again, startled at his boldness, but Mary surprised him by letting out a delighted gasp as she tightened her grip on his hair and arched her back, pushing her breasts even more against his chest.

Fyodor took the opportunity and shoved his tongue inside her mouth, groaning as the taste of her invaded his senses. One of his hands danced over Mary’s skin, causing her to shudder as it tickled by her ribs before moving up to her-

“Oh, Dos! Are you in there? Why is the door locked?”

Nikolai’s happy-go-lucky voice breached the door’s barrier, causing Mary to pull back from their kiss, panting. Fyodor’s nails tensed over her skin before his hands relaxed again, dropping to her waist as he sighed and dropped his forehead against her collarbone.

“I guess your debt is paid, Doctor,” Fyodor spoke against her skin. “There’s work to be done.”

“Of course. I have my mission in a couple of hours as well,” Mary agreed as she pulled away to stand up on shaky legs. “It would be best if I got a couple some sleep before it.”

Fyodor glanced down at himself, at the wet spot on the crotch of his pants, and looked up at her through half-lidded eyes with a devil’s smirk. “Think you need a shower too?”

Mary blushed as she straightened her clothes in a modicum of decency. “I guess.”

Fyodor chuckled, but before he could tease her further, Nikolai’s loud voice invaded the room once more, making his eyes roll upwards in exasperation.

“Quiz time! How long until I force the door open? Two minutes? Two seconds?”

“I will leave you two alone,” Mary said. “Excuse me, Mr Dostoevsky.”

Fyodor nodded dismissively, but the look in his eyes was anything but uninterested. “I will see you later… Mary.”

The woman’s breath hitched at having her first name spoken with such heavy desire before she quickly made her escape, almost slamming against Nikolai when she unlocked the door.

“Good morning, Mr Gogol,” she said with a polite smile.

“Good morning, Mary!” He replied enthusiastically, pulling one of her hands to his lips. “What a treat to see your charming figure so early in the day! Don’t tell me Dos has summoned you at such ungodly hours to talk business?”

“Oh no, we were just having a match,” Mary said, pointing to the chessboard on the coffee table. “He wiped the floor with me.”

Nikolai took a few moments to examine the board and what he saw made him raise an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Really? Looks like a tight match to me,” he said, before turning to Mary. “Next time you should invite me so I can cheer you on! Gods, what I wouldn’t give to watch Dos lose a game…”

Mary chuckled and opened her mouth, but Fyodor beat her to the punch. “You wanted to talk, Nikolai?” He called, smiling tightly at the other Russian. “Come in and close the door behind you.”

“Hmm, grumpy,” Nikolai whispered, sharing a conspiratory smile with Mary as he once again kissed the back of her hand. “Lovely to see you, my dear.”

“You too, Mr Gogol. Have a good one,” Mary said before walking away, throwing one last smile in Fyodor’s direction.

Nikolai waved at Mary’s back as she walked away, closing the door once she turned a corner.

“You know,” Nikolai began in Russian, spinning on his heels to face Fyodor. Both men smiled, but the emotions they showed were something dark, almost cruel. “I believe this is the first time I see a woman in a room alone with you leave without tears in her eyes.”

Feet planted on the floor and knees spread, unashamed of his hard-on or the wet spot on the fabric of his pants, Fyodor hummed a little song as he reached for his hat and adjusted it back on his head. Satisfied, he reached forward and grabbed Mary’s fallen king from the board.

“Honestly, my friend,” he said, bringing the piece to his smiling lips. “I do not know what you’re talking about.”

[along-came-atsushi]

It's a strange question, but… Do you think Dazai had ever sex with someone ? He's someone who's don't like being in an vulnerable position and intimity seems inconfortable for him so… SORRY for my english, it's not my first language !

That’s a valid question and tbh I already thought about that myself. And your English is quite good, I understand you. It’s not my first language either, so ;)

That really depends on how you interpret Dazai, and as always people have different opinions. Therefore different people will also tell you different things.

We must also keep in mind that BSD is not a romance story. So things like who has sexual experiences and who doesn’t, who has a romantic partner/love interest and who doesn’t, isn’t important to the story and its characters, and therefore not mentioned.

I hope you don’t mind that my answer ended up to be longer than I first imagined. But I tend to look at things more closely than to give a simple “yes/no, because I think...”

~ ~ ~

You can take Dazai’s flirtations at face value and believe his acting. It then really seems that he’s the number 1 womanizer.

Chuuya also confirms that Dazai has broken many women’s hearts. But we don’t know how far those interactions went. We don’t know if he only flirted with them, if he had a romantic date with them, or if those were one-night stands.

Maybe it’s being left ambiguous on purpose for our own interpretation. Maybe it’s going to be revealed in another novel.

However, Dazai is mostly seen flirting with women to:

a) gather information (e.g.: when he put the transmitter in Higuchi’s jacket to spy on her, because he already assumed that she was with the PM. Another example is Sasaki, the girlfriend of the Azure King. But more on that later.)

b) get something he wants

(e.g.: when he flirted with the nurse who took away his phone, so he used flattery to change her mind and get his phone back from her. Another example is the waitress he tries to distract, so he doesn’t have to pay his tabs. But she isn’t taking any of his shit and he knows it XD)

c) simply for fun (or out of boredom). He asks random women to commit suicide with him or to kill him, even though he exactly knows they won’t do it (the waitress is an example for this again).

The anime either left it out or censored it, but the first light novel has some sexual/erotic hints regarding Kunikida. We definitely know that Kunikida finds Sasaki sexual attractive, and he has been asked before if he had a date (explicit in the sense of a one-night stand).

Which then leads to the scene where it looks like Dazai invited Sasaki over to have a one-night stand with her. At least that’s exactly what Kunikida is thinking, because that’s just how he interprets Dazai:

“Thank you so much, Mr. Dazai. You... you were very...kind to me last night...”

Miss Sasaki flushes bashfully for some reason.

“What’s wrong, Kunikida? You’ve got a really weird look on your face.”

“Dazai... don’t you think that’s taking things a little too fast?”

“I... I was the one who asked him to let me stay over. I basically forced him.”

Later on Dazai confirms that he slept in a different room and that he didn’t touch her.

If Dazai truly is the number 1 womanizer he’s always playing (or people think him to be), then that would’ve been his chance. And there is no reason for Asagiri to censor it in any way, if he already made sexual/erotic hints before.

It’s implied that Dazai already suspected Sasaki when he and Kunikida first met her. Just like in the case with Higuchi, Dazai playing a dumb womanizer who’s just flirting with women is his way of gathering information. So, he plays the womanizer and flirts with Sasaki to eventually get something out of her. The problem is that Sasaki is an excellent manipulator and actress herself, and she’s using Dazai and Kunikida for her own plans, too. Therefore Dazai can’t confirm his theory as quickly as he can with Higuchi.

There’s also this reaction from Dazai, which I think is really interesting:

“[...] You know there’s nothing going on between Miss Sasaki and me,  right? [...] I slept in another room. I haven’t laid a finger on her. C’mon, do you really think I’d try to seduce a woman who was almost killed earlier that day? I’ve got a little more sense than that. [...]”

Doesn’t sound like a heartless and selfish womanizer to me.

.

It leads to the question that if Dazai had sex it’s when and with whom?

As stated above, he was already flirtatious during his PM time. Unfortunately Chuuya had been the witness of many of these, feeling sorry for all the women Dazai left heartbroken.

Given the fact that Dazai apparently only has contact with Chuuya during missions and not in private, it’s a high possibility that all these interactions Chuuya knows about was Dazai flirting with women for ulterior motives (gathering information etc.) and that he just interprets them the same way Kunikida does.

Since Dazai’s mindset during his PM time was more depressed and dark, I doubt that he honestly was in the mood for sexual encounters. It’s also nowhere stated in the Dark Era novel that he had an encounter anywhere like this before. It isn’t even mentioned that he once flirted with someone out of personal interests. And since he sees Ango and Odasaku as his friends, those two would’ve been the ones to know about.

.

All in all I interpret Dazai as someone who’s acting most of the time, playing someone who he truly is not and hiding what he truly feels. And that includes his flirts with women. It’s easier for him, if everyone around him just assumes he’s shallow and selfish, when he in reality longs for something honest and is even afraid of getting hurt in the end.  

[Dazai saying A and then doing B deserves it’s own meta, but that would be too much, and my answer already has gotten way too long.]

As soon as he gets from the women he flirts with what he actually wants (be it his phone or information) he dumps them. He doesn’t need to place himself in an intimate position with them, because he’s just that good with manipulation, which includes flirting. I also think having Dazai really have sex with any of them takes away his genius, because then it seems that he HAS to do A in order to get B. In other words: He HAS to use his body, his mind and words alone aren’t enough. But that’s just my opinion.

Therefore I believe that Dazai actually didn’t have a sexual encounter before, not even for gathering information. He knows how to act like a smooth womanizer and he knows how to win over a woman’s heart:

“And from my experience, it takes only a smile and some kindness to get a woman swooning over you when she’s fallen on hard times.”

I’m sure he whispered some erotic things in the nurse’s ear, maybe purposely leaving her with an outlook for something more. But that’s all just make believe and pretend. Ultimately, it doesn’t tell if he has actual sexual experiences or not. He’s just playing along.

[aethxr-ash]

Hi Ash! First of all, how are you? i hope youre doing well! Ive only seen your blog recently and i love your works! And i saw you’re doing matchups and ive never done one of these so i wanted to give it a try. May i request a matchup for genshin impact , bsd, and sk8 if thats alright

- genderfluid (but currently she/they)

- panromantic asexual

- gemini, intp, 5w6

For appearance, I look pretty androgynous and can pass as any gender (thankfully)with some makeup help. my aesthetic changes based on my current preferred gender; grunge (masc) 90s (they) or elegant/cottage core(femme) altho i mix and match when im in the mood. The closest character i look like is gin akutagawa, same eyes, same hair but wavy, and same physique but shorter and i have slightly tan skin. In fact, i cosplayed as her once and it was pretty cool!

For personality, As much as i would like to think otherwise, my friends described me having the same personality and temperament as a grumpy cat and even refer to me as one(lovingly). Silent, comes and goes like a ghost, Constantly judging, looks like is about to stab someone, hates being around people, sassy and sarcastic. Im the ‘leader’ of the group by virtue of being the oldest and looks like i got my shit together but i am as clueless if not more, im only good at pretending I understand and just going with it. when im in my element though i do talk alot more and i can go on and on about things im currently invested in. i would want to have more friends and talk to more people but i always chicken out and stare at people accidentally because i get stuck trying to gather the nerves to talk to them(which paired with my resting bitch face looks like a death glare).

As my friend said, im basically raiden shogun/ei(both the puppet and ei herself) but with scaramouche’s height and sass. I have been kin assigned and i didnt even know what that was at the time

I like aesthetics, fashion, food, art and music. I really like cute and fluffy things especially plushies!(My bed is mostly plushies now) My hobbies are drawing and painting or any kind of art and crafts. Though my free time is currently preoccupied with either reading or playing video games. Really i do anything that keeps me indoors and with least social interaction. If i dont have to leave my room, i wont.

As a person who reads a lot of fics, my favorite dynamics are enemies to lovers and idiot x “oh no thats my idiot”. My love language are quality time, acts of service and physical touch. Memories are my most cherished treasures, although i keep them all to myself and the closest to me only.

I hope i did it correctly. I look forward to reading more from you! Have a nice day and dont forget to hydrate and rest!

- 👻 (you can call me ghost :))

Ps: typing in mobile is hard lol

⊱┊personality matchup for ghost (anon) !

hi ^^ ! thank you for the compliments, it made me smile :) i hope you're doing well too ! enjoy ^^

⊱┊ genshin impact

jean !

✧ knows how to keep you in check if need be

✧ gently but firmly

✧ you'll have to stop her from working herself to death though

✧ she'll listen to you talk whenever you need

✧ she's insanely good at multitasking, so she usually listens while doing paperwork (someone get her an actual assistant please, she's going to work herself into a grave)

✧ she has quite a few of your artworks in her office and she adores them

✧ acts of service as a love language !

⊱┊ bungou stray dogs

margaret mitchell !

✧ she definitely calls her partner things like "honey" and "darling"

✧ you both are incredibly sassy and sarcastic but have a kindness in you

✧ she'll kill for you - after all, you're part of her family now, your honor must be protected

✧ she'll be the social face for you two

✧ loves making memories with you, no matter how small they may seem

⊱┊ sk8: the infinity

reki kyan !

✧ lots of physical touch + quality time with reki

✧ he's not as sarcastic or sassy as you are but he thinks it's badass

✧ he'll teach you to skate (if you want)

✧ or encourage you to skate with him

✧ he really likes it when you come to the skate park to watch him skate, although he won't force you to at all

✧ idiot x oh no thats my idiot vibe

✧ he does stupid stuff sometimes but it's adorable <3

[prodigiousvisions]

Headcanon/Divergence? [1] (Yosano): Childhood, The Great War, and life after the war.

Initial disclaimer and semi-related note(s)–

So if part of this looks familiar to you, that’s probably because you read it before in its original, rudimentary state. I have quite a few regrets of impulsively deleting my Yosano blog (vivificamortem) tbh due to having an episode, and one of them was not saving the original post of this when I first wrote it. That being said I still think it’s important enough to warrant a rewrite even if I don’t exactly recall the specifics. As this eventually becomes very Fukuzawa and Ranpo orientated/centric, I just want to make it clear this will not apply to your respective muses of these two unless we discuss it. These are considered backstory supplements and characterizations of Yosano and Yosano’s main verse. She does not have mains for Ranpo or Fukuzawa at this time, and I usually... don’t do mains? But for specifics like this, this would probably apply to potential, future mains and warrant mains of these two. If that makes sense. Anyway. This will also include a bunch of new HC details I didn’t have before.

I was going to be mean and not put this under a cut lol but I’ll be merciful since it is extremely thorough and lengthy. 2,300+ words lengthy, and that’s not including this disclaimer. I know I asked people to read this once finished but realistically I cannot ask that in good conscious unless you are genuinely interested/care and actually are into BSD lol. Fleshed out details+conceptualized explanations/characterization below. Content/mention warnings for suicide ideation + attempts, and neglect.

CHILDHOOD

Yosano was an only child. She was not a beloved child, a planned child, nor a wanted child. Her parents would have been inclined to give her away instantly had they not compromised to raise her as a sort of... ‘help’ for the couple’s wagashi shop. It was a regret far before the first sleepless night when she was a baby, but they decided to grin and bear it. Raising Yosano was an arduous task and they made it very clear in how they behaved toward her as she was growing up. Saying that she was simply neglected wouldn’t even begin to describe it. In response to this, as a young girl Yosano developed a loud, brash personality that would more often than not get her in trouble both at school and with her parents. Being punished was never fun, but at least it garnered their attention for a little while before they went back to essentially ignoring her presence. Her adapted personality would not lead to any fruition for her lonely soul at school either, most kids finding her annoying, scary, or would simply view her in scorn for being so outspoken and strange. She began to believe the outlook of her parents: her only use was to be a shopkeep of the family business. The girl debated with herself often what was the worth of life, what was the point to live, if not to live and be frowned down upon at every other moment. Troubled and depressed, Yosano tries her hardest to cope, keeping her chin up but her eyes glued to the floor when in seclusion.

At some point or another Yosano and her parents find out about her ability and the extent of it all. It freaks Yosano out at the start, thinking about how ridiculous it is that someone who contemplated on a daily basis what they truly benefited out of being alive could potentially alter the fate of someone’s life and grant them a second chance. Then for once, she finds worth in herself. It wasn’t something she could actively go and show off of course, but it gave her a purpose. Her dramatized exterior of self-entitlement and loudmouthedness proceeds on of course, but her outlook begins to shift. She has hope. She can do something good for people. And have a (figurative) place doing so. 

This new purpose was an open door opportunity not only for Yosano, but her parents as well. At the first opportunity to do so as they are tired of taking care of this child, they’re quick to send her off, knowing how valuable that ability and its potential was. In this case, it was the military (either catching wind of her ability or deciding to now call on her due to the necessary role in their war strategy) demanding for Yosano to take part personally. It was a ridiculously easy feat to get their permission to send her away. She was technically no longer their responsibility while she was away. Hell, they hoped she would never come back.

She wouldn’t. And that was that. That was the last time she ever saw and would be in contact with her parents.

THE GREAT WAR

It’s worth reminding everyone that Yosano was a child, and the gravity of her new circumstances didn’t quite dawn on her before it was too late. At the start, she was excited to show that she could have worth and be surrounded by people that would appreciate her for what she did. It would be the first time in all of her life that would happen. And it is for these very reasons that she has such strong, genuine, sincere reactions during the chapters/times she is midst the war. While maintaining her semi huffy and self-imposed air, she was also able to allow it to falter a little because for once, she didn’t need to resort to that to be paid attention to. In their initial praise, it did freak her out at first, the foreignness being so strange to her. But she appreciated it, she truly did. (Note: this obviously doesn’t apply to Mori lol.) The unnamed soldier that Yosano interacts with at this time especially strikes a chord with her. His kindness makes her think that maybe if she was fortunate enough, she would have liked to have someone like that as a brother. Maybe someone like that could have stopped the pain she’d endured with her parents. But that was in the past! He was lending her more toward the perspective of hope just as he told her that she was doing for him and the other soldiers. The creation of the butterfly clip, again, freaks her out because she’s unsure how to react to kind gestures. It is the first of its kind– a present, meaningful in its weight and sentiment in a way that she would learn later would continue to influence her life in various, monumental ways. His present interest in poetry is also something that Yosano would find herself enjoying, too. At the time.

Honestly, I really don’t even think it’s worth elaborating on Mori cause. Well. That whole ordeal speaks for itself. His manipulation and obsession grosses her out at its minimum / start and would later be the colossal trigger and collapse of her mental stability and lead to lasting trauma even as an adult. But anyways, back to other details worth note in this timeframe.

The war efforts proceed and we reach the point where things are looking grim and soldiers are getting near fatally injured faster, and coming back in droves. She realizes rather quickly that she bit off more than she can chew; to have to bear witness to these men being on the brink of death and quickly ‘revive’ them like some sort of automated robot would, naturally, mess up anyone. Her haughty behavior drops quickly as she becomes more quiet, tired, horror creeping up her body gradually in the form of slowly raising goosebumps. She’s wondering when the war will be over, and starts to second guess her purpose. Is what she’s doing right? But she’s not hit rock bottom, not yet at least, as the unnamed soldier reassures her the second instance. He relays how her saving him would bring him back to his family. He tells her: “I’m glad that you’re here.” And it makes way for Yosano’s first instance of ever crying in front of someone, feeling an overwhelming amount of gratitude to being seen and the need to trudge forward to protect. Protect those who had a life to return to. He’d been living proof of the importance of life– that life wasn’t always so cruel to others, that she had a chance to be surrounded by those who cared about her too. She cries in her vulnerability.

Things turn for the worst. Every day is a living nightmare. She can wipe away blood from her body, others’ body, but she will never be clean of the endless pools of blood that stained her hands after her treatments. Even at the age of 11, she comes to the realization that she is the single force that shackles all these people to the torture of having to throw themselves into battle again and again for futile efforts. She’s on the brink of a nervous breakdown constantly, but consoles herself with the thought that the unnamed soldier will be able to tell her it’s alright, maybe even help her figure out a way to get them all out of there. Yosano doesn’t want her ability, hell, she’d opt to having no purpose over this. She would trade her life for all of these people. She just needed this to stop. It’s all her fault. 

The person who was the embodiment of her last shred of sanity and piece of hope commits suicide and dubs her the Angel of Death, and that was her final breaking point. The sliver of belief that providing good for people and having a purpose is ultimately gone. Her worldview that she started to have hope for shatters. It was a cumulative, gradual raise of hope for a better life to have it all smashed to the ground. This tied in with the actual events she lived through, clearly, do not help. Trauma blocks it out of her memory later on, but there are plentiful, deliberate suicide attempts from the young girl afterward, wanting out of this hell that her own hands allowed to bear fruit, but for various circumstances and reasons, her attempts would not work and/or she would simply not be allowed to die at Mori’s hands. She is a hysterical, screaming, crying mess until she is no longer able to cry anymore. If not suicide, then alternative methods. Yosano would attempt to blow the ship up with the explosives that were stored at the bottom – it would have been a far crueler end than prolonging everyone’s destined death, but ultimately fails at that as well. 

LIFE AFTER THE WAR

She is apprehended and taken away to an institution where she spends three years in a void of a space, living on earth as if her spirit has long been faded. She is a shell of a person, succumbed to her own despair and doing the absolute bare minimum. Humanity only ever makes itself present in jaded eyes that blink sometimes and the agonizingly slow rise and fall of her chest to indicate that somehow, she was breathing. Living, but not alive. Not really, anyway. She may as well be rotting away, unkempt, unpure, and wishing life would simply put her out of her misery. Devoid of any hope, feeling death would be a start of repenting for her crimes. But it was never that easy. Why would it be? 

Ranpo and Fukuzawa rescue her. We all know how that goes. Let’s touch on some details of after that. 

After rescuing her, the duo have Yosano reside with them in Fukuzawa’s apartment. While Ranpo and Fukuzawa managed to recover a glimmer of hope in Yosano by rescuing her alone, the hope is discarded as she feels she is unworthy of it and they essentially are put in a position where they have to rehabilitate her. These two people cared enough about her to try to help her– she can see it, despite going about like a walking corpse some days. But guilt is overbearing, suffocating, and it shakes her down with constant night terrors that she is too drained to scream at as well as frequent moments where she blacks out without prompting. At this time, the butterfly clip she dares not to remove from her person is a reminder, a grim heavy burden she forces herself to carry on her shoulders that she was not a good person and that this was her karma and hers alone. She should not forget that no matter how good intentioned Ranpo and Fukuzawa were to her. There was absolutely at least one more time she attempted to take her life. Needless to say, it’s a painstakingly slow process, taking about a full year before Yosano can even start to really improve outside of talking to them here and there. 

(I feel like this behavior / state is EXTREMELY similar to how Kyouka starts off as, too, so my Yosano would definitely take to Kyouka more strongly than some others. But that is an entirely different conversation for some other time.)

Once she gets to a point where she can process things again and forcing herself to come to terms with the fact that these two will simply not allow her to remain dormant, Ranpo takes to tutoring her to help get her back on track to where she left off in her schooling, as she was getting stable enough to where Fukuzawa had confidence she could get better. This process was also slow, but Ranpo is quite the good teacher when he wants to be! The endeavor is a success, and she is able to enroll again in public school, where she is still piecing together why she was granted this second chance at life. It feels pitifully ironic, all things considered. As time does, it also grants an opportunity for growth and change. Eventually, she gradually shakes her way out of her shell at snail’s pace. Some days were still harder than others, of course. Getting poetry assignments would make Yosano have full on anxiety attacks where the only solutions of getting her to calm down were to have Ranpo or Fukuzawa at her side, or if at school and neither were present, to be sent home. These instances lessened over time, thankfully, and the episodes would turn to bitter, depressing moments where Yosano would tense up and try to pass it off to Ranpo if she was able in a way that while seemed lukewarm in how she expressed it, certainly held its weight of obvious trauma. 

(She never liked to talk about her issues. Never. And instead almost always opted for distractions as her method of coping. It is a major flaw of hers that you can absolutely call her out for even in present time.)

Yosano will never truly return to being 100% normal, but that’s fine, as she really was never at 100% anyway. Schooling in its own right helped her cope with things and served as a distraction from negative thoughts, and she found herself enjoying it and studying harder than ever before. Assisting in the preliminaries of helping around the detective agency also allowed her to grow into the figurative seat that Ranpo saved just for her. No longer did she have to be abrasive to garner people’s attention, either, becoming more comfortable with an occasional snarky tongue when the situation allowed it, and slowly being allowed to live as herself for the first time. It was truly shocking to see that people liked her for her and not the potential of weaponizing the dangerous ability that she had. Once more was her ambition to help people reignited, but it would be done on her own terms. Compelled by her convictions as schooling was coming to a close, she decided that she would go to pursue higher education at a university while formally getting a degree to become a doctor. It is then when she got accepted that her new self would truly shine, becoming as close as she could to be at peace. This endeavor was sped up to lightning fast speeds because of her drilled in skill of being all the more studious and essentially holding the knowledge of what it entailed already.

Not necessarily integral details, but while in university, she did pick up the hobbies of taking up Kickboxing Classes as well as Dance Classes and are longstanding interests of hers that she maintains even after finishing her schooling. These, too, serve(d) as time slot distractions to keep her thoughts at bay when her mind decided to be a little cruel to her at some moments. Poetry no longer leaves a bitter taste in her mouth and is now a newfound interest of hers. She even writes poetry of her own at times. As of present time, her butterfly clip is still a symbol of burden she chooses to carry and a reminder, but it is also representative of metamorphosis, a chance at a new beginning– a new life. That there was value in life, and that you should live on for those who could not.

[patchwork-panda]

If A Moment Is All We Are (12/?)

AO3 link: HERE

Note: play the 1st BSD ending when you get to the asterisk (*). Link HERE

------------------------------------

I finally had control of “The Story of Your Life.”

Well, sort of.

More like I used it on purpose for the first time since... middle school? At least I could say it didn’t activate the very instant I touched someone, unlike before, and the side effects were a lot more manageable than they used to be. For one, I hadn’t blacked out, despite the fact that I’d used my powers on two people within two minutes and additionally, it had taken more than one vision to actually make me sick. Maybe with time, I’d be able to learn how to shut off my Ability when I didn’t want to use it. In any case, I still had a long way to go before I could use my Ability as easily as Kunikida or the others could use theirs, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from doing everything I could to help solve the case.

While I had gone home right after the interview and spent the rest of the evening resting and recuperating, Kunikida had gone right back to the office, where he spent the rest of the night putting together a list of people we might be able to bring in. It wasn’t a very long list, but it was pretty good considering the information we had. And so, I came in the next morning to find my schedule completely packed with interviews.

I might not have gotten much out of my meeting with the Tanedas, but now that we had a better idea of how my Ability worked, perhaps we could use it to try to find the killer. The plan was simple: we’d serve tea during the interviews and while I handed someone a cup, I would make sure to do so in a way that meant I’d have to touch them. Even a brush of a fingertip would be enough. Once my Ability was active, I would use it to see several minutes of the person’s future while Kunikida waited beside me with a timer set on his phone. If the noise didn’t wake me, then he would, by tapping me on the shoulder, at which point, I would excuse myself and leave to draw or write down everything I had seen and felt as best as I could. Kunikida would then take over the rest of the interview for me and once the interviewees had left, we’d go over what we had and see if we could make any new connections between victims.

At first, it seemed to be working pretty well. For once, I was actually using my Ability—on purpose—and I was able to remember enough to write down some very detailed descriptions of the visions. However, after multiple interviews and some hours of analysis, we still weren’t able to piece together many similarities between visions. Furthermore, even though I was actively trying to look for faces, to see if there were any suspicious people that kept showing up, no potential suspects appeared. In the end, I got a pretty good idea of what the victims’ day-to-day lives might’ve been like before their disappearances but not much else.

I honestly wanted to keep going until we got something but as the day wore on, the side effects from using my Ability slowly began to worsen. At first it was just a mild headache, nowhere near as bad as it had been last night, and I thought if I just took breaks between interviews, I would “reset” and be ready to go by the time the next person came in. Unfortunately that was not the case. Repeated usage of my Ability seemed to compound the side effects, making them worse with each vision I saw. Eventually I ended up experiencing enough dizziness and disorientation that Dr. Yosano was called over to check if I really was anemic. Turns out, I was physically healthy(-ish), but I was looking so green after the sixth or seventh (I’d seriously lost track) set of interviews that I came back from the bathroom to find somebody waiting for me at my desk with a cup of hot ginger tea.

It was the clerk I’d seen before, the lady with the pink glasses. She was composed and intelligent-looking, with olive green eyes and short brown hair that curled just past her shoulders and she seemed to be only a few years older than me. From what I recalled from orientation, her name was Haruno Kirako and she was the lead clerk as well as President Fukuzawa’s acting personal assistant. Kirako held out the tea to me with a warm, friendly smile, which I took from her with a small, grateful bob of my head.

“Haruno-san...? Does the President need something from me?”

She shook her head.

“There’s been a small change to your afternoon schedule,” she said, looking slightly apologetic as she spoke. “Using your Ability seems to take more of a toll on you than expected, so Yosano-sensei and Kunikida-san asked me to take you to the clerk room to work with us for the rest of the day.”

“Huh?”

I looked back to Kunikida’s desk, which was now empty.

“But, what about the other interviews...?”

“Your last two interviews have been rescheduled for tomorrow,” Haruno said gently. “And if you’re looking for Kunikida-san, he went back to the police station to exchange some information with them. He’ll be back by the end of the day.”

“I see...”

I stared down into the cup of ginger tea, at my own glum expression.

I was really hoping to last the day too, especially after I’d embarrassed myself by throwing up in front of Kunikida last night. Now how was I going to redeem myself?

“Kusunoki-san?”

Haruno placed a hand on my shoulder and shot me a look.

“Before he left, I heard Kunikida-san say he was planning to (and I quote) work you to the bone tomorrow, especially if neither of you figures something out by the end of today,” she said, making a face. “I think you really should take the break, or you might just collapse from overwork later.”

Wait... Does that mean Kunikida still believes in me...?

“Really?” I exclaimed excitedly, “he said that?”

Looking disturbed by my apparent enthusiasm, Haruno nodded.

I still had a shot...! I could still turn this case around!

“Thank you so much, Haruno-san!”

I finished the rest of my tea in one gulp and turned to her with an enormous smile. Haruno shrank back a little.

“Lead the way!”

The ginger tea did the trick. In just a few minutes, my nausea was basically gone and I was doing so well that I was able to file papers and run small office errands with the other clerk girls while we chatted away. Then, with about an hour left on the clock, Tanizaki’s younger sister, Naomi, dropped by with bubble tea and productivity dropped to near zero as we clustered around Haruno’s workstation to take our share. Even Haruno stopped being able to focus and as she pulled out her phone to show us her cat, Mii-chan, Naomi plopped down next to me.

“Kyou-chan?”

Naomi scooted forward a little and I was once again struck by how pretty she was and how little of a resemblance she bore to her redheaded brother.

“Which do you like better? Cats or dogs?”

I had to think for a minute.

“Dogs,” I decided to a chorus of disappointed moans and a few excitable cheers. “They’re always so happy to see you and it’s easy to tell when they like you.”

“Hmm, is that so?” a familiar male voice mused behind me. “I don’t really like dogs that much but if that’s what you like about them...”

I turned around to see Dazai standing behind me, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he studied me.

“I can make it easier for you to tell how much I like you. After all, I’m always happy to see you—”

“Do you need something from me, Dazai-san?”

He looked disappointed.

“You have someone waiting to talk to you at the client booth,” he said, to my surprise.

“I thought my afternoon meetings were canceled?”

Dazai shrugged.

“She said she needed to talk to you no matter what. Mind coming with me for a moment?”

I bid the girls goodbye and followed Dazai back into the main office. As we crossed the room, Dazai shot me a furtive look over his shoulder.

“Hey, if I bring you bubble tea, will you let me call you Kyou-chan too?”

“No.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Because Naomi-chan and Kirako-san aren’t going to use it to entice me into a double suicide.”

Dazai chuckled.

“You got me there...”

We arrived at the interview booth and to my shock, the old manager from the convenience store was waiting for me inside.

“Obaa-san! What brings you here? Isn’t it work hours?”

At once, I gestured for her to sit down while I ran out to get her some tea. When I came back to the client booth, I noticed Dazai was still lingering in the corner of the room, watching us with his bandaged arms crossed and a thoughtful look in his clear brown eyes. Unfortunately, when I tried to shoo him away, he didn’t budge.

“I don’t mean to trouble you at work, dear,” the old woman said, “But I just wanted to come by and thank you for working so hard on Mei-chan’s behalf.”

“Of course...”

At the mention of her name, Mei’s image appeared in my mind’s eye. I could still see her walking around with a big smile on her face as she stacked a new shipment of snacks onto the highest shelf that no one else could reach...

The manager reached down into the plastic bag she’d brought with her.

“I know you liked the Kit-Kats so I thought I’d bring the office a small box, as thanks...”

As she brought the small box forward with her softly speckled hands, I knew what I had to do. I didn’t have time to prepare an alarm or anything else to wake myself up but I couldn’t pass this up. I reached out to take the box and in a flash, I was pulled in.

I squint up at the mid-day sun. It’s hot. I’m fanning myself with the paper fan and I’m walking along the river on the way to my convenience store.

That Mei girl better show up on time today. Summer meant more people trying to duck into the cool shade of the convenience store and with Mei heading the counter, we were sure to make a good amount in sales. She recovered rather quickly from her ordeal, although I suspect she’s been throwing herself into work and staying late to avoid walking home again, poor thing.

If only she had a boyfriend... I could introduce her to my neighbor. He seems to be doing well at work and it’s getting to be around that time he settles down anyway...

I walk towards the rec center just as Mei jogs down the street towards me from that building. Her hair is dyed with blond streaks and she’s still wearing that strange-looking scrunchy in her hair like on the night she disappeared—

The vision fades. I’m being pulled backwards out of a dark tunnel—no, the tunnel is collapsing around me. I see light...!!

I was yanked out of the darkness with a sharp gasp.

Someone’s hands were placed firmly over mine, long fingers gripping the edge of the box while the palms were still in contact with my skin. Warm breath floated over my cheek and I turned to see Dazai’s face right next to mine. He must have come up from behind and leaned over to grab the box before I could drop it—and by doing so, he’d disrupted the vision. As the cardboard began slipping out of my hands, Dazai’s hands passed smoothly over mine and he took the box from me.

“Careful,” he said gently, settling the box down on the table. “You almost dropped it.”

I smiled back at him, hoping my gratitude showed in my smile.

If he hadn’t pulled me out of that vision, who knows what would’ve happened?

“Thank you, Dazai-san. My apologies, Obaa-san. I have... narcolepsy.”

“Oh? Is that so?” the old woman asked as Dazai abruptly stifled a snicker from behind me. I shot him a glare but he just winked at me.

“Y-yeah. Thank you for the snacks. I’m sorry to leave you so abruptly but—”

I got to my feet.

“I have a lead I need to follow up on. Right now.”

And with that, I sprinted out of the client booth, leaving the shocked manager behind in my wake. I could hear Dazai calling after me as I ran for the door.

“Wait, Kusunoki—!”

“I gotta go!” I shouted as I ran, nearly colliding with Atsushi as I disappeared through the front door.

“I think I know where the kidnapper is!”

Thank God I’d worn sneakers today, I thought as I pelted down the hall. In hindsight, maybe it was actually a good thing that I’d gotten sick in front of Kunikida last night; he hadn’t complained when I came in to work this morning wearing track pants and a loose shirt. I dashed outside just as the bus arrived across the street and the pedestrian light turned green.

“Hold the door!”

I skidded to a halt inside the bus just before the doors closed, my head buzzing for the entirety of the short ride and as soon as I’d gotten to the right stop, I ran for the exit and rushed down the street.

I’d been focusing on the wrong thing this whole time—while I was looking at the faces in the visions, trying to see if there were any people that showed up over and over again, I’d completely ignored any similar locations—until now!

I sprinted past the convenience store and made a sharp left up the street towards the rec center I’d seen in the manager’s vision.

That rec center...! I’d seen it twice now in the future memories of those closest to the victims. Mr. Taneda would later walk past it as he threw that flower into the man-made river and that river had flowed past the rec center and into the canal where we’d found Mayu.

Why hadn’t I or any of the police put any of this together sooner? All of the missing were athletic. They may have come from different districts and this rec center may have been very out of the way but it was big—so big it had to have courts available for every kind of sport. Furthermore,  it was close to the train station by the convenience store and would’ve been ideal for meeting up with friends from across Yokohama. Mei, who lived nearby, only had to get on this bus and then take a quick jog along the river to get to that rec center.

And I had just seen this part of Mei’s jogging route through the eyes of the convenience store manager.

I raced along the river, towards the rec center. I’d never been there in my life but I had seen it through the eyes of others who had. I knew the way and if this worked, it should lead to a future where Mei, and perhaps the others, would still be alive in the summer.

Unfortunately, I’d overestimated the distance I could run; the rec center was a large building and so was much further than it actually looked. I could feel my legs starting to burn...

Gasping for air, I headed for a bench nearby and immediately collapsed on it.

In hindsight, I really hadn’t thought this through. I’d gone running the instant I’d made the connection between the rec center and the victims and I’d completely forgotten to tell anybody where I was going. Maybe Dazai had figured it out but should I be leaving it to him to brief Kunikida, who was probably back from the police station by now and furious at how I’d run off to look for a serial killer by myself?

Groaning a little, I pulled out my phone, which had miraculously not fallen out of my pocket, and swore when I saw the words “low battery” appearing on the screen.

Great.

I could probably send out a text but would my phone die if Kunikida called me? Guess there was only one thing to do. I pulled up the text app and started typing up a message that looked like it had been translated from Morse Code.

“Meet at rec center. Low battery. Do not call. I’ll explain later.”

“I really need to work out more...” I groaned as I shoved my phone back into my pocket.

I was so busy texting l that I didn’t see the man sitting on the other end of the bench with me.

“Not much of a runner, are you?” he asked and I practically fell off the bench in shock. He laughed quietly as I climbed back on the bench, my face still pink and my lungs still short of breath.

“Sorry to scare you,” he mumbled.

“N-no, it’s okay. I wasn’t paying attention,” I admitted.

His face was rather hard to see because of the long bangs that ended somewhere around his nose but he looked like he was probably in his thirties and that he hadn’t shaved in a few days. Like me, he was wearing track pants and sneakers but unlike me, he wasn’t all sweaty and gross; in fact, he didn’t look like he’d gotten up from this bench in some time. Maybe he was taking a rest.

“Were you jogging too?” I asked curiously.

“A little,” he said, looking out across the river. “I like to come here sometimes. It’s peaceful.”

I nodded as I sat up a little and examined my surroundings, trying to spot the rec center in the distance. I was pretty far away from the bus stop, so I had to be getting close enough to actually see the building soon, right...?

Noticing that I was looking around, the man spoke up again.

“Are you lost? Looking for something?”

“Not really?” I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. “I mean, I kind of know where I’m going...”

When he looked at me questioningly, I wiped my forehead and grinned awkwardly.

“Okay, I’m actually trying to get to the rec center. A friend of mine likes to play volleyball there and she said I should check it out if I ever wanted to join her.”

The man in the track pants nodded.

“I know the place. I actually go there a lot too. It should just be half a kilometer down that way, around the bend.”

As he lifted his arm up and pointed down the street to his left, I saw a flash of bright orange. There was a scrunchy on the man’s wrist, a bright orange one that was covered in colorful bows and pom-poms. Catching me staring, the man instantly stuffed his hand back into his pocket.

“Oh, this?” he chuckled feebly. “It actually belongs to my girlfriend but I carry it around when I’m missing her. I know, it’s silly isn’t it?”

“No, not at all!” I exclaimed, waving my hands.

I could feel a chill creeping into my blood as I looked at the man a little more closely. There was definitely something weird about this guy. Why was he sitting on this bench in track clothes when he clearly wasn’t out here for a run? Why not rest directly inside the rec center where there were sure to be lockers and showers and seating areas? And why was he sitting here, so close to the rec center, wearing a scrunchy that looked identical to Mei’s? Was he waiting for someone? Or worse... scanning the streets for a new victim?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized something was off about the way he was acting. He didn’t seem so strange at first but the moment I’d spotted the scrunchy, he’d gotten all shifty and wouldn’t look at me. Something told me he wasn’t dating one of Mei’s teammates and I had the horrible sinking feeling in my gut that the scrunchy on his wrist really was Mei’s.

I should talk to him so I could find out more...

“I...” I started. “I think it’s sweet that you’re so dedicated to your girlfriend.”

He twitched—noticeably—and I realized I might’ve been acting too friendly for a complete stranger. However, he hadn’t moved away from me, so I decided to push my luck and scoot down the bench, moving a little closer so I could try to get a better look at his face. Hopefully, Kunikida had gotten my short text from earlier and was already on his way...

“You do, huh?” the disheveled man mumbled, one dark eye peeking through the curtains of black, lanky hair to closely examine me.

“Yes, I really do,” said, hoping I sounded sincere. “My boyfriend works too much and he never has time for me any more..."

Hoping my facial expression didn’t give away the lie, I smiled a little and moved a tiny bit closer. He had cuts on his face, but not from a razor; there were a couple small scratches on his left cheek, looking like they were just a few days old. I glanced at his hands—too big to have made such scratches. That meant he’d gotten into a fight with someone who had smaller hands than he did...

Fighting off a shudder, I kept talking.

“Maybe I should give him one of my hair ties so he’ll think of me more...” I tried to laugh.

But the laugh died in my throat the instant I saw the look in the man’s eyes. Not even Akutagawa had looked at me with that level of hostility. There was no doubt about it—he was the one who killed Taneda Mayu. I swallowed and out of instinct, began shrinking away. I couldn’t tell if it was my phone buzzing in my pocket or if I had just started shaking.

“Your boyfriend doesn’t pay attention to you?” the man asked, his voice dropping low, the disgust evident in his tone. “If he doesn’t care about you, you should just break up with him. Find someone better.”

I felt a subtle vibration in my pocket—my phone was definitely buzzing but who was calling? Dazai? Kunikida? Was one of my mentors coming to help me? If they were, I needed to let them know what my current situation was—somehow.

I kept my face as neutral as I could and slowly reached for my device. If I answered it, someone’s voice might startle this man into running, and given the difference in our stride length, I was not going to be able to catch up if he escaped. Maybe I could press the right button at the right time, so that whoever was on the other end of the line would be able to hear us and figure out what was happening. Was there some way to get this man to shout...?

The phone buzzed more insistently in my pocket and I pushed “answer,” moving my cell so the receiver was sticking out of my pocket a little.

“B-break up?” I asked, making sure my voice sounded clear even as my pulse raced. I pulled my phone up even further out of my pocket.

Please don’t let my battery die...

“But I’ve never had a boyfriend before and it’s so hard to meet people these days...”

But as I trailed off at last, the man suddenly looked infuriated.

“Hard to meet people?!” he snapped, “With a face like yours?”

To my alarm, he got off the bench. He turned to me and started shouting.

“Pretty girls like you make me sick! You only see the good-looking guys, the ones everyone is already chasing! If girls like you only took a proper look around, you might see that there’s been someone who’s always been waiting for you, worshiping your every move—someone you’ve ignored for years.”

He started walking away and the moment he turned his back, I sprang to my feet. There wasn’t enough time for Dazai or Kunikida to get here.

I couldn’t let him get away!

I rushed forward and chased after him, reaching forward with my hand.

“—Why don’t you take a good look around you before you start complaining,” he snapped, flinging his hand out in an irritated gesture as I stretched out my fingers, “You entitled little—!”

My hand clamped around the man’s wrist, just beneath the scrunchy and at once, I felt the pull. The street started compressing around me into that now-familiar darkness that signaled the start of a vision and I felt the mouth of that darkened tunnel stretch open to swallow me up. I gritted my teeth and tried to force the tunnel away.

But while I was struggling to prevent my Ability from activating, the man noticed I was holding on to his arm.

“What the...?”

He tried to shake me off but I wouldn’t let go. In the struggle, my phone flew out of my pocket and hit the sidewalk with a clatter. A man’s voice came out of the speaker.

“Kusunoki?” it crackled from the other end. “Is that you? Hold—”

The phone abruptly died just as I put my other hand on the man’s wrist. My vision was fading to black and the man was trying to grab his wrist back again but I held on tight.

“Let go of me...!” he shouted.

I had to fight it—I had to suppress my Ability.

President Fukuzawa said I should have control of it by now. If I truly had control, then shouldn’t I be able to turn it off...?

I held on tighter, my fingers squeezing around the man’s wrist as I continued to fight my Ability. Backup was coming. All I had to do was keep him here until someone arrived and trust they would be here soon. Lives—maybe even my life—depended on it.

I gritted my teeth and continued to concentrate with all my might to stay in the moment and keep my Ability at bay, even as my dizziness threatened to overwhelm me and I saw the man ready a fist. He raised it above my head...

“I said let go, you little—”

CRACK.

The man’s wrist was wrenched out of my grasp and I opened my eyes to see a body in track pants go flying, propelled through the air by the force of a very solid roundhouse kick. As the dust settled and the man landed on the sidewalk a good distance away, I turned around to see who had saved me.

Standing right behind me, with one long leg still half-raised in the air, was Kunikida Doppo. He was panting with exertion and with his long blonde hair all mussed up and the red ribbon around his neck coming untied, he looked angrier than ever—but in that moment, I was so happy to see him that I wouldn’t have minded being kicked myself if it meant I could throw my arms around his neck.

“Kusunoki!!”

His sharp green eyes blazing with undisguised rage, Kunikida shoved his glasses back up his nose and stalked towards me. Behind him, a bright yellow taxi (the one he’d just taken) peeled away down the street.

“Why the hell didn’t you wait for me?! I ran into Dazai two minutes after you left—two!!—and he said you figured out where the killer would be and that you’d gone out to go and look for him—by yourself!”

He threw his arms into the air in disbelief.

“When I asked him why he didn’t go after you, that asshole said you wouldn’t answer any of his calls! What the hell were you thinking?!”

“Kunikida-san!”

I pointed down the street at the man in the tracksuit, who was slowly getting to his knees.

“It was him! He kidnapped Mei-chan! Her scrunchy is still tied around his wrist!”

And then I spotted a glint of silver on the ground. I rushed over to retrieve it as Kunikida called my name and yelled at me to come back.

“And this!! This belonged to Taneda Mayu-san!” I exclaimed as I scooped it up in my hands. “It was in the photo her parents showed us!!”

“That’s senpai’s...” the man on the ground rasped, clutching his broken, bloody nose as he rose to his feet. “Get your filthy hands off it...”

At once, Kunikida’s face darkened.

“Excuse me?” he growled, stepping forward.

I watched as Kunikida strode past me and grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt.

“You have some nerve calling a member of the Armed Detective Agency filthy.”

As he lifted the man into the air, Kunikida gave him a good, hard look.

“Senpai, huh?” he said in an undertone. “Aren’t you a little old to be calling a twenty-eight year old ‘senpai?’”

***

The streets were bathed in red and blue from the flashing lights of the police cars. Under the light of the setting sun, the man in the track pants was yelling loud enough for all passersby to hear as the cops shoved him into the back of one of the police vehicles, yelling about the problems girls these days had (“those entitled bitches who don’t know what’s good for them—!”). I let out a sigh of relief as the cops slammed the door shut on his face and took him away for good and I went back to the bench, promptly collapsing on it in a heap.

As the sound of sirens slowly faded away, Kunikida approached me and sat down at my side on the bench, taking care to avoid the spot where I’d mentioned the kidnapper had been sitting.

“He made a full confession,” Kunikida said, tucking his hands into his pockets and crossing his legs. “In fact, with the way he was yelling, I wouldn’t be surprised if all of Yokohama heard what he’d done already.”

He sighed.

“You were right—he did kidnap Saeki and the others and in fact, he’s been hunting women at this rec center for months, specifically targeting those who reminded him of a girl he once loved. From the sound of it, she was a pretty upperclassman who rejected his advances all the way back in high school...”

I drew my knees up to my chest and stared out into the river.

“What a long time to hold a grudge,” I mumbled. “And taking it out on complete strangers too. How twisted...”

Kunikida nodded solemnly.

“The good news is, it seems Saeki and the others are still alive. It won’t be long before the Military Police arrive at his hideout and rescue them. Thanks to you, everyone should be able to go home to their families tonight.”

“Everyone except Taneda Mayu,” I whispered, letting my forehead rest against my knees. Mayu’s bracelet had been taken by the police as evidence and I knew that sooner or later, it would find its way to the shrine her parents had set up for her. If only she too, would return alive as the other victims would.

“How are the Tanedas doing?”

Kunikida grew quiet.

“As well as can be expected,” he said softly, looking out across the river with me. “At the very least, they’ll have closure now.”

I nodded.

For a moment, we just sat there next to each other on the bench, staring quietly at the water, each lost in our own thoughts. It had been at least a full thirty minutes since my confrontation with the murderer but the adrenaline had not yet faded from my system and I was still feeling weirdly dizzy and shaky—probably a side effect from suppressing my powers. I hugged my knees tighter to my chest as Kunikida slowly pulled out his notebook and started writing.

“The work day may be over,” he said, “but the office is still open. When you’re ready, we should head back. You’ll need to type up a report describing the arrest and how you came to identify this man and then give it to Haruno-san. She’ll make the redacted copy that we’ll be turning over to the Military Police tomorrow morning, striking out anything relevant to your visions so we can maintain the secret. And, speaking of your Ability...”

He closed the notebook and looked at me, his brows furrowing in concern.

“I know using it takes a toll on you. Are you alright?”

Turning to look at him, I offered him a shaky smile. The dizziness was fading rapidly but, not wanting to puke in front of him for the second day in a row, I didn’t lift my head from my knees.

“I’m fine. And it’s all thanks to you, Kunikida-san.”

My smile faltered.

“I... I’m sorry,” I mumbled, my voice cracking a little. “I’ve only just joined the Agency but I’ve put you through so much trouble already. I feel like you keep having to save me.”

I hid my face behind my knees again.

“I didn’t mean to run off without talking to you earlier. I just... I knew what I had to do and where I needed to go and I didn’t want to waste any more time. Not when there were lives that could be saved... Not when there was still a chance I could bring Mei-chan back to her friends and family...”

I sighed heavily as I heard the scratching of Kunikida’s pen against his notebook once again.

“You’re writing me up for this, aren’t you?”

There was a long pause. The pen stopped scratching. And then I heard Kunikida sigh as well.

“I’m not writing you up, Kusunoki-kun.”

Surprised, I lifted my head up off my knees and turned to look at Kunikida, who was sliding his notebook back into his vest with a pensive, almost guilty looking expression on his face.

“And despite what you might think, I’m not mad at you either,” he mumbled, rubbing his temples with one large hand. “But I can see why you think I am. I know what my coworkers think of me. What you must think of me after we’ve worked together so closely for the past several days.”

He ticked off a short, succinct list on his long fingers.

“I’m quick to anger, a stickler for the rules, a man far too rigid and unyielding for his own good who cares for nothing but doing right by his own ideals.”

He grimaced as he stared down at his own hand.

“I hate to admit it but you’re not completely wrong. However, I’m like this for a reason.”

He turned to me.

“Kusunoki-kun, do you know why I’ve been so harsh on you?”

I bit the inside of my cheek and looked away.

“Because if you didn’t whip me into shape, I’d let people die—”

“That’s not it.”

I froze.

He sounded... frustrated? And not in the usual way.

Unsure of what I was hearing, I slowly turned to look at him. There was something different about Kunikida in this moment—something I’d never seen before. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear I was seeing something like affection in the depths of his eyes. But that couldn’t be right... could it?

“It’s because I know what you’re capable of,” Kunikida said quietly. “I saw what happened earlier. You suppressed your Ability, didn’t you?”

I was taken aback.

“You noticed?” I asked, as Kunikida nodded.

“Do you know why I vouched for you in the first place and asked the President to give you the test?”

I shook my head.

“It was your ideal,” Kunikida stated plainly. “When you told me that you not only wanted to save people, but follow through and see their salvation to the very end, I was moved. ‘To completely save a person...’ What did that mean? I thought about it for a long time after you left. I thought about a lot of things after you left.”

He lowered his eyes and stared into the river.

“I thought about how you’d rushed back into the gallery to save me when you were the one who was supposed to be saved. And then, during your Exam, when we were putting your convictions to the test, I watched from the sidelines as you finally stopped running and turned around to face your challenges head-on. I knew then that you were a capable person who could make the Agency proud—who could go on to do great things someday, so long as you believe in yourself. And today...”

Kunikida slowly turned towards me. His expression seemed to soften in the pleasant, orange light of the setting sun and his sage-colored eyes glowed with a subtle, tender warmth as he firmly held my gaze.

Kunikida smiled.

“Today, you proved me right,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you... Kusunoki-kun.”

Upon hearing his words, I felt my heart stutter in my chest. I suddenly wanted to reach up and place my hand over his.

Had I ever seen him smile like this before...?

“Kunikida-san...”

Checking his watch, Kunikida took his hand off my shoulder and stood to go, leaving my shoulder warm and tingling in the wake of his touch.

“You did well today,” he said, looking back down at me from his considerable height, “but make sure to keep working to improve yourself and your Ability. The cases will only get more difficult from here on out and I expect to see you rise to the challenge.”

He adjusted his glasses and began walking away.

“Now, come on. We’re heading back.”

* As I got up and began following him back up the street, I suddenly found myself unable to walk too closely beside him, all too conscious of his broad shoulders and tall stature. My shoulder still burned where he’d touched me and when Kunikida looked back at me, to make sure I was still following along, I couldn’t help but flush the moment his eyes met mine. There was a strange, budding warmth in my chest and the more I looked at my mentor, the more I couldn’t help wondering why I’d never noticed how handsome he was...

It couldn’t be...

Was I falling for him?

[just-kessho]

Ambrosia: Dazai Happiness Week

[Day 3] Birthday party

AU: None

Warnings: Mentions of suicide (thanks, Dazai) and slight spoilers for those who haven’t finished season 1 and 2 of BSD I guess?

[Day 1] [Day 2] [Here] [Day 4] [Day 5] [Day 6] [Day 7]

It was unlikely for Dazai Osamu to not know things – escape routes and alleyways of Yokohama? Those he has already mapped out with every nook and crannies within his brain. A war against Port Mafia? Yes, he already have at least 84 plans and countless backup plans already stored in his mind.

A birthday party for him?

What?

Sure, Dazai knew of ‘birthday’ and ‘party’ as well as ‘birthday party’ but for that to happen to him, the few people who stared into the swirling abyss only for it to blink back, was completely out of his calculations.

All right, to be fair, his mind was already whirling with countless possibilities when Atsushi, all trembling and stuttering every other word, came up to him only to ask about, and he quote straight from the teen’s mouth, “all the best places for suicide” in all of Yokohama.

But Atsushi didn’t stop there – oh no, he followed up with a very high pitched and very loud (that Dazai had to refrain from covering his ears, though he clearly remembers his eyebrows twitching from that sudden outburst) shout of, “will you show them to me?!” that had ‘suspicious’ labelled all over him.

He was about to ask Atsushi what was wrong – and believe me, if [Name] was involved in anything, then he would drop everything and anything just to sprint to her side – but before a single word could get out of his throat, his blond co-worker screaming about everybody’s schedule being interrupted whenever Dazai’s present, and thus that leads to Dazai… well, basically granting Atushi’s wish by showing the male all the places that he would personally commit suicide.

Though just after the two stepped out of the agency front doors, the brunette turned back to face the brick red building, wondering what on Earth was happening to prevent him from merely being inside it – he figured that much out, for Kunikida, under no circumstances, would ever allow Dazai to step a single feet outside the building when it was working hours. It says something about his own disappearance skills (that he was somewhat proud of), and also more about how it was a poorly disguised way (to someone as perceptive as Dazai, of course) of not wanting a person named ‘Dazai Osamu’ to know about what everyone was planning.

He could rule out a war against Port Mafia, as the truce between the two organisations were still standing, and he could also rule out-

Wait, was [Name] truly in danger? Sure, he knew of the dangerous jobs that she sometimes would take without as much blinking an eye, yet the image of her laying on a hospital bed, where her red liquid of life would make a stark contrast against the pristine white of the sheets, and being strapped to every machine available just to barely keep her alive was not an image that he want – nor want to remember.

[Hair colour] framed her face like an antique piece of artwork, and those [eye colour] were shining with… something met his dull brown ones.

He blinked, and the- his belladonna was gone.

Whether the stunning beauty in that window was an illusion or not, perhaps it was time to focus on entertaining Atsushi with his hand-picked spots for suicide.

Yet two and a half hours into showing the white haired kid the suicide spots with as much enthusiasm as possible so he wouldn’t know Dazai knew the agency (and perhaps along with [Name]’s workplace named with the very original name of ‘The Office’) was planning something.

Though Dazai thought [Name] had a neutral look of looking as if she was absolutely bored of everything, as if she had somehow experienced everything before and was doing them again, like a countless playthrough of a game that mirrored your first one, Atsushi’s face now sort of… resembled that of his girlfriend’s.

… Perhaps the white haired male really had enough listening about “ooh, that branch seemed to support your weight well” and “there’s not many people who would come here, so this is the perfect spot for a clean suicide~” and whatnot.

Honestly, he seemed more like their newest addition in the agency, Izumi Kyouka, when she was waiting personally for him in the shopping district than the sunny boy who always smiled, asking if there was anything he could do to help and putting his life on the line for others.

“Atsushi-kun.” stopping so suddenly, much like them times when Dazai himself slammed on the brakes, at the last minute, when he was driving, so it was no surprise that Atsushi nearly bumped into him. Nearly. “what is with you and the agency today?”

“I… do not get what you mean, Dazai-san?” really, the kid was so bad at lying that Dazai swear he could personally count every sweatdrop that was staring to show on his forehead. “Wh-whatever could you have gotten that from, I won-wonder?”

“… Your whole attitude.”

Really, Dazai might have wanted to re-think his earlier statement, since as soon as that ruthless three worded sentence was uttered, Atsushi looked as if someone had snatched his beloved chazuke and threw it in the bin all right in front of him.

“W-well, it is a special day, so the agency thought that… you should have a break today!”

“… oh shit, is today the anniversary of me and [Name]?”

“No! At least, I don’t think so.” to see Dazai panicking was a sight to behold, but it was slightly sad for the birthday boy not realise what today really is.

“I-is it [Name]’s birthday?”

“… No.”

“Versalius-san’s birthday?”

“… Think again, Dazai-san.”

“The Office’s founding date? The agency’s founding date?”

“Keep thinking, Dazai-san.”

“Was today the day [Name]’s favourite pet died, and so she wants us out of the picture so she can mourn in peace, yet deep down inside, all she really wanted was for me to lend her a shoulder to cry on and have comfort sex?”

“What?! NO!”

Face red and huffing as if he had just sprinted across three hundred meters for the last bowl of chazuke, Atsushi hunched down and mumbled something about Dazai being so sad and oblivious, yet he wondered whether the older man was really just entertaining him.

Yet at the thoughtful look spread across Dazai’s face as he really whacked his brain, Atsushi threw that last thought out of his mind.

Oh wait, Dazai was known for being good actor, so maybe that deduction wasn’t that far off.

Perhaps I should just tell him outright- wait, what were you thinking, Nakajima Atsushi?! [Surname]-san’s trust was specifically put into you! So don’t fail her – and the entire agency – now.

A phone beeped. And at the vibration felt in the pocket, Atsushi immediately scrambled to get it out, nearing dropping the object in his haste. And at the neat kanji and katakana that told him everything was ready, he felt himself relieve a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

Thank God, because I don’t think I can fool or keep Dazai-san from the truth anymore.

“Dazai-san, I think we should return to the agency because… uh, oh, because Kunikida-san just texted me saying that we need you.”

“Eh-? No, don’t wanna, and here I was having such a good time showing you all my favourite suicide spots-”

“Actually, it was [Surname]-san who needs you, she just didn’t want to… she didn’t want me to tell you that.”

“Then let’s go! That sounds exactly like [Name]-chan~”

I offer you my sincerest apologies, [Surname]-san, but your sacrifice is much needed – just please find it in your heart to forgive me!

“Atsushi-kun, why are you praying to a God now?”

Atsushi didn’t really have a convincing answer for that impossible question. So he stayed silent, praying for Dazai to not work out what they have in store for him.

A thunderous bang resonated throughout the room. Confetti was thrown, and a particular long one got entangled in Dazai’s hair.

Atsushi’s frantic stuttering and sweatdrop now made sense. They were preparing a birthday party for him!

Oh wait, today really was his birthday, wasn’t it?

But he paid neither the confetti nor the sudden realisation that he was a year older any notice.

Oh no, not with his co-works (that were crawling slowly but surely, to the place in his heart where the walls that he carefully put up were defeated – much like what [Name] did) smiling – yes, even Kyouka, and the corners of Kunikida’s mouth twitched upwards – and simultaneously shouting “happy birthday, Dazai!” along with the colourful banners and freshly prepared food that was put out for everyone to enjoy.

… He just hoped Vesalius did not prepare them…

But still, that cake, that magnificent cake that was coated in his favourite flavour – a sure sign that it was [Name] who ordered it, heck, perhaps she even made it herself. Oh wait, it wasn’t covered in crabsticks so that was out of the window.

However, the disappointment that reminded him of a child not getting his way in a toy shop was quickly washed away by a warm feeling as he scanned each happy faces of his co-workers that he couldn’t help but feel his lips spread into a smile-

And then his eyes met hers.

Did time slow down? Probably not, but he really felt it was just him and her in this room. A dazzling smile that he wanted to protect (despite fully knowing she was perhaps even more capable of that than him), a dazzling smile that was not present not even two years prior… a smile that was directed solely at him. He remembers simply expressing his gratitude to the people in front of him, and then making his way towards the [hair colour] haired woman.

Her hands were clasped behind her back, was she trying to look cool by hiding her fiddling fingers? How utterly cute.

(It wasn’t the first time such a thought cropped up in Dazai’s mind, and it for sure wasn’t the last)

“… Happy birthday, Dazai.”

“Really, [Name]-chan, you didn’t have to do all this!”

“But I wanted to, we wanted to. You deserve a break after all… so here.”

A package of blue and red was thrust in his vision of sight. With hands that trembled slightly – huh, why was he trembling anyway? Years of torturing and other jobs in the mafia without batting an eyelash hardened him so. Thus this small, trivial exchange should not… should not make him feel as if he was on top of the world, and wouldn’t mind having this warmth blossoming in his chest longer.

Still, he took it. Gently unwrapping the thing, a burst of blue greeted his eyes.

“It’s a labradorite.” [Name] explained, leading him right under one of the agency’s artificial lights. “it changes colour depending on the light. Normally this gemstone I got you stays a blue-ish colour, but it can become red, yellow, hmm… a blue-green and gold. Ah, see that? It just changed to gold for a moment- and now it’s a sort of blue-green. Oh, it changed back to being solely blue.”

Turning the precious stone so that it shined in all the colours that it can give off, the birthday brunette entertained himself with it – heck, Dazai even managed to get [Name]’s eye colour to stay on for an extended period of time, but it is fickle, one slight shake of his hand and the colour vanished.

“Thank you, [Name]. I’ll take good care of it.” it wasn’t a lie, nor a white-lie that was the result of his silver-tongue that made many people spill out their deepest secrets or flush in a deepest red. No, it was right from his heart – and that was something that made [name]’s smile widen.

Which in turn, made his own widen, for the warmth in his chest, spreading down to his fingertips and toes, made him forget of his past and the demons that plagued his mind – just for today, just for this hour… just as long as [Name]’s genuine smile was there, on her face.

Huh, and he thought it was impossible to fall more in love with her.

The presents he received were more everyday essentials, though there were some books from the Director and Vesalius (with the latter glaring at him for seeing him kiss his lovely niece) that he wanted to flip through.

Still, the gift that made an everlasting impression – almost as much as [Name]’s gemstone – was Naomi and Tanizaki’s.

It was a maid dress.

Not one that showed off everything and hid nothing, not it was one that was historically correct with the skirt down to the floor. It was one that showed off all the right curves of [Na- uh, whoever that would put it on. It was a miniskirt, yes, but it could pass for a school uniform miniskirt, and the collar was also down, though it didn’t show off everything and so left just enough room for imagination…

All in all, Dazai thought he had to give it to Naomi (this had the younger Tanizaki sibling written all over it) for her to pick out this particular and… uh, unique gift.

… And she was smirking slyly all the while he opened it.

Hey, guess he and [Name] would get busy tonight, as he would definitely abuse his ‘birthday boy’ status.

    Omake

“[Name]-chan, put it on, pleaseeeeeee!”

“No.”

“Come on, I’m begging you- and I’m the birthday boy here. Also, everybody want to see you in this, after all, who wouldn’t want our poster girl in a cute maid dress?”

“Y-yeah…” I-I’m so sorry, [Surname]-san!

“Oooooh, definitely! It would be a sight to behold.”

“I’m sure it would suit you. I know it would have more impact than the time I dressed up.”

“See, even Kyouka-chan and Naomi-chan said it. So please!”

“……………… Ugh… fine. Give it here then.”

“If you don’t I’ll make my infamous puppy- wait, what?”

“I won’t say it twice.”

“Yes!”

“I’ll get the camera ready!”

“You won’t old man.”

“D-damn… she’s so cruel to me…”

“Come on people, drum roll please! Aaaaaaand here we go!

“No! No drum rolls Naomi. Also……… Kill me. Right now- hey, D-Dazai, why are you picking me up?! And where are we going?”

“Kunikida-kun, don’t look for us for the next three days bye!”

Guess who’s a day late! Happy birthday husbando, the light of my life, my reason for living, the one whom I just reblogged 100+ gifs and photos of…

@dazaixhappinessweek2k19

[salamanderergfanfictions]

BSD, mult. chars, Yosano, Atsushi, Chuuya POVs, fight with Dos.

Title: The Narrow Space Between Breaths

Notes: The majority of this was written before season 3, yet, I was reading the manga at the time, so it weirdly contains spoilers as well as totally disregards it.  I also will be the first one to tell you--I don’t fucking know how Rashomon works.  I just don’t, if someone would explain it to me, that’d be great.  Also, if someone would just like to explain to me the...whole plot of BSD that would be great, kthx.

The take-away is, I took hella liberties, I had hella fun writing it, so the most I can wish for is if someone enjoyed reading it at least a little bit.  Thanks!

Summary: A fight with Dostoevsky, and the aftermath.

“How fortunate that you are all in the same spot, it makes things easier,” Dostoyevsky smirked. “I’m going to rid the world of unsightly Ability users with a godlike power. You can’t stop me yourself, Dazai. Only gods can duel one another, and I don’t plan on being challenged.”

Dazai’s eyes widened.

“Armed Agency members,” Dazai’s voice echoed across the warehouse, gaining everyone’s attention by the urgency in which he spoke, “Protect the chibi!”

“Who?” Kunikida yelled.

Dazai pointed to Chuuya with a dramatic swoosh of his arm.

“What?” Chuuya started as all the eyes of the Agency members turned to him, “I don’t need any of your shitty people protecting me!”

“Don’t worry, Mister Fancy Hat City Guy!” Kenji said, raising his fists over his head, “We’ll protect you!”

“I don’t need your—that is not my name!”

“Port Mafia, do the same. Defend your executive with your lives,” Mori said calmly, leveling an intense glare at Dostoyevsky. “And if there are any of our men left standing should Chuuya-san die, I will kill them myself.”

“Hey, hey,” Chuuya’s eyebrows shot up, deeply confused at the concern Mori was showing as well as the threat against his subordinates, “What the hell is going on?”

“Chuuya-chan is the biggest threat to Dostoyevsky’s plan right now,” Dazai said, more for the benefit of the Agency members, “He just said it, ‘Only gods can duel one another’.”

“But what the hell does that mean?” Kunikida shouted.

“While it’s true that I’m the only one that can match Dostoyevsky intellectually, this isn’t just a battle of wits. And in terms of pure power, even god-like power,” Dazai left off to glance at Chuuya, a dark, assessing glint in his eye that knocked the other man back a couple of years and dozens of missions. “In its raw form, there is no match for Chuuya’s Ability.”

Chuuya grimaced and looked down at his gloves, “You fucker. So, I guess that means...”

“If you would,” Dazai nodded, before forcing a cheesy smile on his face and tilting his head, “Only if you want to, of course.”

“You fucker,” Chuuya repeated harshly, tugging off his gloves and throwing them to the ground. “You better stop me, when it gets too—”

“I will.”

Chuuya’s breathing quickened, ”None of that suicidal bystander bullshit. You void me when you get a chance.”

“Have I ever let you down before?”

“Don’t ask me a question with an answer like that right now!”

“Chuuya,” Dazai said in warning, his teasing smile gone as he watched his Agency members fighting Dostoyevsky’s henchmen.

“I got it.” Chuuya grit his teeth and put the appropriate amount of dramatics into his next words as he stared at his hands waiting for the black and red stains to overcome him, to rewrite who he was and control his body as if Chuuya Nakahara never existed in the first place.

“‘O, grantors of—’”

He was cut off as a bullet bent around him and ricocheted off the floor, it was high caliber enough that a large divot was left in the cement. Chuuya turned around to glare at the sniper laying on the rafters above everyone.

“...That could’ve hit my hat,” Chuuya said darkly, clenching his fists in outrage, “I’m gonna kill that fucker first.”

“Actually, Chuuya would be much more useful if he focused on Dost—”

“‘O, grantors of dark disgrace,’” Chuuya recited again, forgoing dramatics this time for pure fury, “‘Do not wake me again.’”

—

There was a lot of carnage, a lot of blood, a lot of dust, rocks, and the groaning, broken, dying, dead bodies scattered throughout.

Yosano came to after healing herself, blinking blood out of her eyes and coughing up dust. She wiped a line of spit and blood from her lips as she pushed herself up with one hand, looking around for her comrades. Dazai had yelled for everyone to retreat from the building not long after whatever Nakahara had become...the pure hell that had been unleashed. Yosano had seen destructive Abilities before, but never anything as raw and indiscriminate as that, not when being channeled through a person—a person who supposedly was their ally. The last thing she had seen before turning her back to try to make it out was Nakahara sending a massive black hole toward his own men, cackling madly from blood-soaked lips while doing it. The sight and sound had chilled her to the bone. She hadn’t envied Dazai having to wade into that chaos for the chance to get skin on skin contact, though she knew that was the only hope they had to make it stop.

It was quiet now, quieter, at least.

Yosano gave one more hacking cough and stayed kneeling on the floor till she was sure her shaking was under control.  One of her heel tips had snapped off, which was going to make it difficult to balance, but she wasn’t about to walk around without anything covering her feet, not with all the jagged pieces of stone, rebar, and nails littering the floor.  The clothes and shoes Yosano was wearing were beyond salvage, though even she would not have wanted this kind of excuse to go shopping.

Thankfully, she hadn’t gotten pinned down beneath any columns or large stone slabs. It would have been horribly inconvenient to be crushed and just waiting to slowly bleed out before being able to heal herself, over and over as the cycle repeated. Yosano had seen the kind of mental break that kind of stress could induce on someone second hand, she had no desire to experience it—

Her eyes went wide.

“Kuni-Kunikida!” She yelled, getting to her feet quickly, wobbling on her uneven heels, to hurry to her friend’s side.  The man was further away from the door than she was, which meant he hadn’t given up on trying to get Dazai to leave with him, even as load-bearing columns were being destroyed.  He was limp on the floor, the longest strands of his ponytail were quickly being stained from blond to red.  The puddle of blood and hair were stretching away from Kunikida’s head like the corona of the sun.  I might have enjoyed it, Yosano thought in fragments, each step on the cement floor jolting a different thought into her brain, I might have thought it was pretty, maybe I would be laughing…

Yosano tumbled gracelessly to Kunikida’s side, her hands trembling as she reached toward his neck, his skin cold as ice against the pads of her fingers.

“Idiot,” She cursed in relief as she felt a thready pulse almost the same instant her butterflies gently landed on his cheek.

Once he was safe to move, she began dragging him toward the door herself, an exhausting task as she did her best to avoid the worst of the debris as well as keep balanced. Eventually she had to stop and take a break before attempting to continue, barely holding back a frustrated yell.

“I got him,” A voice behind her said, a head of bright blond hair accompanying it. “Is he all healed?”

Yosano gave Kenji a quick once over, but the young boy looked as hearty and hale as he ever did and nodded, “Yes, just get him out of the building for now.  Is Tanizaki with you?”

“Yep!” Kenji smiled, “He had to call Naomi first, and I think she’s yelling at him ‘cause he has a silly expression on his face.”

Yosano brushed the comment aside easily, “Come back in when he’s done, I still don’t see Dazai or Atsushi anywhere and we need all the hands we can get.”

“Okay!” Kenji flashed a thumbs-up before lifting Kunikida up enthusiastically.  Yosano almost laughed at the sight of the two of them walking away, a young boy carrying a man almost two times his body length like he was an overgrown baby, his legs hanging off the side and skimming the ground. Instead, she let out a heavy sigh and looked around again, only a few people were up and moving now, and none of them in an off-white coat or with white hair.

“Yosano-sensei, if you’re done staring into space, your assistance could be used,” Mori called out to her, his voice lilting and recognizable in a strange way.  Yosano felt an irritated twinge go up her spine as she glared at him and that disgusting smirk on his face.  But she was still a doctor, and there were people, mostly Port Mafia members, bleeding all around who needed her help.  Just because Mori was here didn’t mean it was the same as the other time.

Over the next few moments, muscle memory took over and Yosano quickly got to work on the people around her. As expected, Mori was unscathed, almost suspiciously, taking into account where he had been when the major wall had collapsed, but he was tending to the injuries he could as well as performing a kind of reverse triage for Yosano.

“He’s dying,” Mori could be heard saying in a bored voice and Yosano would rush over, regardless if that person was Port Mafia. Working like this with him as a partner brought up bad memories and a sickening feeling of familiarity that she fought hard to ignore. She concentrated on her work, the broken bones, the gashes and gaping wounds.  Most of her own had just been wounded superficially, only Kunikida had, unfortunately and thankfully, been the worst. Kenji had left him leaning against a miraculously still standing wall outside in the sunshine, dazed, covered in his own blood, but not a scratch or bruise on him.  Atsushi made quick work of a rock that had pinned him down toward the back of the building, pushing it off with transformed tiger arms, and then had tried to make a hasty retreat in the wake of Yosano’s generous, yet overzealous, offer to heal him.  Much to Yosano’s delight, he had not been fast enough.  He was now lifting stone slabs along with Kenji as Tanizaki very reluctantly played nurse to Mori. The young boy could be heard making noises of disgust every once and a while followed by Mori chuckling.

Yosano opened her mouth to snap at the doctor to leave him alone—

“Did you hear that?” Tanizaki said, his head perking up, but he didn’t move from his task of keeping the Black Lizard member from bleeding out. “Did anyone hear that?”

Yosano wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, “Hear what?”

“I did,” Mori said with a curious tone. “It sounded like—”

A cough.

Kenji pushed and lifted concrete pieces until the infinite black of Rashomon could be seen under it. As soon as there was no more reason to be activated, Rashomon returned to its owner, unveiling what it had been protecting.

“Hello~” Dazai greeted them all chipperly, looking as if he was perfectly at home underneath a ton of rocks, two Port Mafia members, and covered in blood.

Yosano raised her eyebrow at his tone, “I almost got my hopes up seeing that much blood, but it’s too bad my Ability won’t work on you.”

Dazai grinned at her, “The only thing I’ve been in danger of is being bored to death by my abysmal company. It’s such a disappointment I wasn’t able to be buried alive with two beautiful women instead, I wouldn’t have minded that as much.”

Akutagawa let out a cough. Despite Rashomon having returned to a coat and the danger of being crushed gone, he still hadn’t moved from his shielding position over Chuuya and Dazai, supporting his body on shaking arms.  Chuuya was pinned below Akutagawa and on top of Dazai, bleeding heavily from his mouth and head, soaking Dazai’s shirt and coat.  He appeared to merely be unconscious, but Yosano could see he was breathing shallowly.  She couldn’t even begin to fathom the physical toll an Ability like that took on the body of the one using it, Nakahara had looked like he was being crushed from the inside out just a few moments after activating.  But from how he and Dazai had been talking before, this probably wasn’t the first time, which meant he had survived before and would survive again.  As long as Dazai got to him in time.  Yosano wondered if she would be able to trust Dazai that much with her life, deciding on the answer before she had even finished the thought.

“This one’s been coughing in my face for the past ten minutes,” Dazai said drolly, lifting his chin up at Akutagawa. “Tuberculosis would be such a terrible way to die. Too slow.”

“Give the hat guy here,” Yosano said gruffly.

Dazai held up his hands, “What, do you think I’ve been clutching him to my chest the whole time?  He fell on me, and then this idiot fell on both of us, ruining a perfectly good death by crushing.  It would have been fast and lethal.  Akutagawa, get off.”

Akutagawa finally seemed to come back to himself and rolled off to the side.  In the back of her mind Yosano made a note to check on him as soon as she was done with the Port Mafia executive.  She carefully turned Chuuya on his back, without any help from Dazai, who merely stayed laying down on the ground like it was a comfortable bed.  Or perhaps he was imagining it was a coffin with the way his hands were folded peacefully against his chest.

“Is he dying?” Dazai asked, a smile creeping on to his face.  Yosano gave him an answering grin of her own.

“Not fast enough,” She said gleefully, raising her machete she had pulled out of nowhere, and letting loose a truly terrifying cackle.

--

A few feet away from them, as Yosano worked, Akutagawa was pushing himself to his feet, stumbling away from the wreckage with a determined look on his face, before tripping over some smaller pieces of concrete.  He went to his hands and knees hard, his breathing slowing as sweat rolled from his forehead and down his face.  He squeezed his eyes shut and a few more drops hit the floor.

“Are you okay?” Atsushi bent down next to Akutagawa slowly, laying a gentle hand on the other’s shoulder.

His hand was roughly shrugged off as Akutagawa got to his feet with the same dogged determination as last time.

“Get off me,” He leveled a glare at Atsushi, though the effect was diminished by the paleness of the other’s face and the tremors of fatigue running through his body. Atsushi backed off anyway, holding his hands up with a nervous smile.

“I was just—”

“Shut up,” Akutagawa snapped, “I don’t need your help.”

Atsushi watched Akutagawa take a few more shaky steps before collapsing to the ground again. This time he stayed down, his breathing coming out in ragged gasps even in unconsciousness. Atsushi moved to check on Akutagawa again without the other being able to refuse his help, but another Port Mafia member with long black hair reached him first.  The man in black gently moved Akutagawa’s head to his lap and although Atsushi couldn’t see the other man’s mouth, he could tell he was smiling.

“He reached his limit under there, continually using Rashomon in a defensive position against tons of rock, knowing any slip of control could mean his executive getting smashed,” Dazai explained in a bored tone of voice.

“And his mentor,” Atsushi added with a meaningful look, “You were in there with him too.”

Dazai shrugged.

“You should probably thank him,” Atsushi pushed, not bothering to tear his eyes away from Akutagawa and the Port Mafia member to look at Dazai’s reaction. “I know I will.”

“Thank him?  If he had practiced using Rashomon defensively when I wanted him to, it wouldn’t have taken that much concentration in the first place and he wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Atsushi pursed his lips, “I’m still going to thank him.”

“Atsushi-kun is so thoughtful,” Dazai’s voice lilted in his ear, “Doing unnecessary things.”

The comment made Atsushi frown even more, and he turned around to retort, but Dazai was already walking away.  At first Atsushi thought Dazai was hanging his head because he was somewhat cowed by what Atsushi had said, but that didn’t seem likely.  Atsushi watched him for a few more seconds in confusion, as Dazai slowly walked a random path through the rubble, his eyes focused on the ground, before understanding.  Though he couldn’t think of anything that Dazai had with him that he would have been able to lose.  Maybe it was his book on a thousand ways to commit suicide.

Atsushi turned back toward Akutagawa, intending to attempt to approach the other man again, but something caught his eye several feet away.  It was wedged between two large pieces of cement, bent out of shape and covered in a light layer of dust, but still recognizable.  Atsushi used his tiger arms to push the pieces apart, pulling it out gently once there was enough room. He was pleased when it almost immediately retained its former shape.

“Dazai-san,” Atsushi called out, holding the item up in his hands, turning it, “This?”

Dazai turned around, his eyes going wide in surprise for a half second as he saw what Atsushi was holding up.

“Heh,” He let out a light chuckle as he walked forward, “Like I said, Atsushi-kun is too thoughtful.”

Atsushi beamed and held it out for Dazai to take, “I wasn’t the one looking for it.”

Dazai shrugged nonchalantly, slapping it against his leg to try to get even more of the dust off.  He held the object up and squinted at it, assessing, “But seriously, isn’t this the ugliest hat you’ve ever seen?”

--

Chuuya felt light and bubbly, like his body and insides had been given a power wash.  He also felt strangely naked with his coat, hat, and gloves missing in the wreckage of the building.  Chuuya didn’t want to look around for them though, he didn’t want to see any of the bodies of his subordinates that had been caught in the crossfire, either when part of the building had collapsed or by his own hand. Mori and the Agency’s doctor had been able to heal some, but Chuuya could still remember the looks on the faces of the ones he had aimed at himself, their screams as limbs were blown off or the silence as they were swallowed up into nothing.  Chuuya looked down at the pale skin of his hands, clenching them hard enough that his short nails dug into his palm and they ached from the tension.

“Shame, even Yosano-sensei’s Ability couldn’t fix your ugly face,” Dazai quipped from behind, extremely disappointed when Chuuya did not react.  He could see the other man was still dazed from the aftereffects of Thou Shalt Not Die, a bright, glassy look in his eyes as he stared at his lap.  It was the best shape Dazai had ever seen Chuuya in after using Corruption, he was kinda pissed about being robbed of being able to see the stupid face Chuuya made as he slept.  It had been too dark in their makeshift tomb and Dazai had to perpetually turn his head away every time Akutagawa coughed.  It had been doubly annoying that neither of them had even responded just a little to his genuine, sincere attempts at a meaningful conversation.

“Here,” Dazai shoved a black bundle under his nose, sitting down beside him once Chuuya had taken the clothes with a shocked expression. “Close your mouth, I can smell the wine from here.”

Chuuya blinked slowly as he looked down at the pile.  His coat was folded in a precise square with his pair of gloves laid neatly on top. There wasn’t a speck of dust on either of them.  Chuuya put on the gloves first, feeling more like himself once the leather covered his hands and the cotton-headed feeling of the doctor’s Ability began to fade.

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know where—” Chuuya was cut off as Dazai plopped his hat on his head with a put-upon sigh, pressing down till it covered Chuuya’s eyes.

“Yes, though it pained me to even touch such a tacky thing.”

Chuuya righted the hat on his head, “You didn’t wait around as long you usually do before stopping me.”

“Chuuya was bringing down the whole building and Dostoevsky escaped, so there was no more need. Besides, it wasn’t as much fun watching this time.”

“He, what?  Escaped?”

Dazai shook his head, “Don’t worry about it now.  We’ll see him again, you can avenge your subordinates.”

Chuuya absentmindedly shook his head, “I won’t be able to avenge my subordinates unless I kill myself.”

Dazai grinned slyly, leaning back on his arms, “What a strange mood you are in this evening.  You’re not my usual type, but I suppose an exception could be made considering our history.  How about it, does Chuuya want to die with me?  We can spend eternity in the afterlife together.”

“Ugh, I had been taking peace in the fact that I wouldn’t have to deal with you in death, but you’ve just soured that thought.”

“Chuuya started it.”

“I was—” Chuuya started, his voice coming out hoarse and tight, “I was saying that the one who killed my subordinates was me, only my death would avenge theirs.”

“I can follow a basic conversation, you know.  I’m not as dumb as you.”

“Shut up.  I’m obviously not going to do that though, so…I can only offer compensation to their families, if they had any, maybe donate to a charity or something.”

“How altruistic of the Mafia member.”

“Not altruism, business. The Port Mafia donates money to a lot of charities, you should remember that.”

“I do, it is a good strategy.  A great strategy, one might say.  A genius strategy—”

“Shut up.”

“It’s not going to help. Not you, anyway.  Donating an outrageous sum of money to people in need won’t get the screaming out of your head, the terror-stricken faces, and the knowledge that you’ve killed people who were under your command.  Who looked at you like you were a monster in their last moments.”

Chuuya swallowed heavily, missing the numb, tingling feeling he had before this, wishing he could go back to that time a mere few minutes ago when he felt like he was floating above his body, that none of this was real.  He didn’t want to hear what Dazai was saying, it was insensitive, and ill-timed, but nothing that hadn’t already been ringing around in his own head.  Chuuya had killed people before, people he knew, people he didn’t, men and women, young and old, but he had always done it with the knowledge that they were enemies of the Port Mafia.  He had always done it in his right mind, for the past four years at least, and even before then, Dazai had been there to control him. This had all been Dazai’s plan today, a stupid plan, in hindsight.  Unleashing Corruption in such a small space with so many of their allies around, it had been a Hail Mary, and it had failed.  Dostoevsky had escaped, and as usual, the Mafia had suffered many more casualties than the Agency.  Chuuya’s authority might have even been damaged over this with the survivors, and he couldn’t help the small thought eating away in the back of his brain that perhaps Dazai had done this on purpose.

Chuuya slowly brought his gaze to Dazai’s, narrowing his eyes, trying to assess what was going on behind that dead stare.  Maybe Chuuya would be able to see something to prove that Dazai had planned all this in an effort to cripple the Port Mafia and take down Dostoevsky all at once, if that good-goody two shoes persona he showed the Agency was really just a big act like Chuuya had always suspected.  Chuuya had seen Dazai do similar things when they were younger, he wouldn’t put it past him now.  Dazai might have been able to change the color of his clothes overnight, but re-dyeing the soul took a lot more effort.

“So don’t b—” Dazai paused to reconsider what he was going to say, either ignoring or unaware of Chuuya’s suspicious stare, “Speaking from experience, performing a couple of good deeds doesn’t completely erase your past wrongdoings, nor does it lessen the burden on your soul, or magically make you a better person.  But it helps, if you really try, it does help.  It’s all you can really do anyway.”

Chuuya’s eyes widened, that wasn’t flippant or teasing.  It didn’t make light of the deaths that Chuuya had caused or taunt him for caring about them. In fact, it had almost seemed…honest. Chuuya’s heart started beating faster as a thought occurred to him.

“Is that why you left the Mafia?” He asked, pushing himself into Dazai’s space, deciding to quickly take advantage of the rare sight of a serious, candid Dazai.  Dazai looked taken aback by the question, his eyes popped open comically, and Chuuya grinned at having caught Dazai by surprise for once. He spent the next few moments in breathless silence, aware that should Dazai deign to answer, almost four years of doubt and hurt feelings could be resolved.

“Yes, and no,” Dazai finally said.

Chuuya dropped away from his former partner, his former executive, “What does, what does that mean? What kind of shitty, ambivalent answer is that?”

“It means yes and no, Chuuya-chan,” Dazai sing-songed out, his eyes squeezing shut as a large grin spread over his face.

Chuuya’s shoulders fell, and his eyes slowly drifted back to staring at his hands, clenching and unclenching them with the calming feeling of tension from the leather against his knuckles.  These are a new pair, He thought absentmindedly.

Chuuya knew he wouldn’t be getting anything else out of Dazai now, the other man’s mask had already been put on, the walls were fortified, and Chuuya had never been allowed past them. He may have been given glimpses, but never trusted with more than that.  Dazai…Dazai had seen everything of his, whether he had waited for Chuuya’s trust or not.

“Thanks,” Chuuya said after a moment, unable to think of anything else and deeming it innocuous, and true, enough for him to get away with.  No matter what he told himself, it felt like dust coating his tongue. “Asshole.”

Dazai’s smile stayed as big and fake and cheesy as ever, “Of course, partner.”

Chuuya looked away. The conversation still felt unfinished, an inhale that had been stopped before filling the lungs, incomplete and unsatisfying. It hung in the air around them, permeated by dust and rubble and death, by all the words Chuuya wanted to say, and all the words Dazai wouldn’t ever.

The silence stretched on between them, as usual.

How long would this one last?

--

End

[blackandwhitemusician]

Yukichi Fukuzawa for the characters game. I really enjoy your point of view of the characters in the series and I think I dodn't read anything yours about this character.

YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT, (GRAND)DADDY FUKUZAWA DESERVES ALL THE LOVE AND APPRECIATION IN THE WORLD. How have I not talked about him before… Thank you soooo much for this ask!

What is your opinion of this character? If you like, explain why you like him/her.

I respect him to death. He has the air of a wise man and his wisdom reflects in his interactions with the ADA members. Despite his experience, Fukuzawa is not capable of cunning. He is invariably sincere in his interactions, follows a rather strict code of conduct and is dedicated to helping his subordinates develop into their best selves.

Is he/she important to the general plot?

Yes! Fukuzawa is the President of the Armed Detective Agency, so he effectively laid the foundation for the current character development of the members. Everyone experienced a change of heart or a newfound hope when they joined the ADA, and it started with Fukuzawa’s vision to establish the ADA as part of the tripartite tactic. Fukuzawa’s relationship with Mori also serves as a balance to keep the city in check.

Can you relate to this character at all? Does he/she grip you emotionally?

I relate to him the most in matters concerning cats. Other than that I don’t relate too much to him, mostly because he is too wise LOL. I do agree with his outlook on people, though. I love how he sees everyone as being equal, which enables him to set aside prejudices and treat every person as a worthy being in their own right. Thanks to this, Fukuzuwa was able to help Ranpo understand that people did not hate him for being different, but they could not understand things as quickly as he did, which intimidated them. And Ranpo concluded that foolish people were as innocent and harmless as babies. ARGH. 

It was also Fukuzawa’s forgiving nature that enabled characters with shady former professions to restart their lives on a clean slate with the ADA. Dazai, for instance, was light years away from being self-sacrificing, but Fukuzawa and Kunikida recognized that he was not inherently evil and gave him a chance to join their organization. In the same way, he let Kyouka take the entrance exam to prove herself worthy of a second chance, even though she was officially a condemned criminal. Fukuzawa’s ability itself serves as support for his subordinates to help them master their abilities. This also means that without the ADA, Fukuzawa is basically a normal human. But just the existence of the ADA alone provides the reason for him to use a special ability. That, somehow, is emotional for me.

His interactions with Ranpo are the most powerful for me, ever since we found out how he founded the ADA to give Ranpo a means to use his talent, and to protect him from doubting himself. I was also moved by how he was willing to risk his life to meet with Mori, if it meant his subordinates would be spared. He is also protective of his adoptive children, and even tried to prevent Yosano from returning to Mori, knowing too well how traumatized she is. And have you seen this family photo?

Do you ship this character with any other character? Or, are you particularly intrigued by his/her relationship with any other character(s)? (romance-wise or platonic)

Familial relationships between Fukuzawa and the early ADA members (Ranpo, Yosano and Kunikida) always warm my heart. I also love his relationship with Mori. Even though Fukuzawa is against Mori’s methods, he is willing to work with him if it means they can save the city from destruction. They are also complimentary in terms of skills and knowledge, so it’s exciting to watch them battle against or alongside each other.

Is there anything about the character you would change?

I wouldn’t change a thing about him, but I do hope we’ll get to see more of his activities in the past (before he met Ranpo) and what caused him to change. I’m also always hungry for more Fukuzawa/Mori/Natsume-sensei interactions. Also, more of his interactions with Yosano and Kunikida would be amazing.

If you were in the fandom with this character or knew this character in real life, how would you see yourself interacting with him/her?

I would follow him around like a stray cat LOL.

Does this character make the cut as one of your all time favorites (if you like) or least favorites?

He should be in my top 10 BSD characters, but the trouble with me is I love like 5 characters the most and the rest about the same, so it’s a bit hard to gauge.

Would you hype up this character (if you like) or warn about this character (if you dislike) to someone new to fandom?

OH YEEES I would hype him. He could use a bit more attention, I think.

Is this character popular with the fanbase?

Not extremely (I guess the inaccessibility of his writing outside Japan is also a factor?), but everyone I have spoken to loves him!

[bungouimagines]

what would the BSD characters children be like? [not a shipping thing mind you, just child headcanons in general]

I’ll keep this simple and just start out with the Agency’s members if that’s alright! If you guys like these, I’ll continue onto the Guild, Port Mafia, and/or the Rats In the House of the Dead. ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)

Atsushi

Girl or Boy: Both! Atsushi would most likely have more than one kiddo, hoping to provide them with some company. He’d be well suited with a boy and a girl.

Both would adore fluffy things, like their dad’s weretiger state

There would be a profound appreciation for the simpler things in the Nakajima household

The least picky children you’d ever meet

Very frugal; kids with the ability to go couponing like no other soccer mom has done before

Kyōka

(Out of everyone, I feel Kyōka would be the least likely to want/have children; but I’ll include a scenario anyways!)

Girl or Boy: Just one little girl, Kyōka wouldn’t want many children and considering how she is also a girl, would have an easier time with one daughter

There’d often be tea time with mommy

Silent, stoic little child

Not particularly patient though, she gets that from her mother

Would be extensively trained in self-defense; Kyōka wouldn’t want her little girl to be unable to defend herself

At the same time however, she wouldn’t be predisposed to violence all that much

Loves cute things like plushies and decorative desserts

But also has a fascination with badass female leads and action/spy movies in general

Jun’ichirō

Girl or Boy: Both, similar to Atsushi. Jun’ichirō’s lighthearted personality would work well with children.

For starters, they think their aunt is a bit peculiar…but never say anything about it in order to stay polite

Jun’ichirō would most likely call them his “little snowflakes” when they’re little

The adverse of their father and their aunt would happen with them: the girl would have a gift and the boy wouldn’t

The boy would still actively try to protect his sister though, as his father would most likely instill that in him

Both tend to be very aware of their surroundings, since they grew up with their father’s gift trying to catch them off guard (i.e. a holographic cookie jar conveniently left open on the counter)

Because of this, they wouldn’t be very mischievous and most likely have strong moral compasses

But love practical jokes

Naomi

Girl or Boy: Just one boy, whom Naomi would dote on constantly

Due to a peculiar strike of luck, he would be born with a gift

Naomi would often have him visit her brother in an attempt to help him control it

Fukuzawa would also mentor/babysit him from time to time

Hates his uncle, no one is really sure why…

Has a crush on his other babysitter, Ms. Haruno

Despite his aggressive nature towards Jun’ichirō, he gets along with his cousins rather well

Trains with Kyōka’s daughter under Fukuzawa’s mentorship

A bit spoiled compared to the other children

A firm believer in cooties

Kunikida

Girl or Boy: One little girl, although Kunikida wanted a more traditional “nuclear family”, his partner insisted that she’d be happy with their daughter. Doppo, over time, couldn’t help but agree.

The most academically astute of the children – besides Yosano’s son

Gets stressed out very easily (once had a panic attack over a B-)

Diligent and resourceful

Has the second nicest handwriting of the group

Lectures her friends when they’re behaving “like children” (despite being a child herself)

Cutthroat when it comes to school and marks

Keeps a day-to-day journal, rather than writing an “ideals” book like her father

Fukuzawa

Girl or Boy: One vastly older son and a daughter. Fukuzawa has a tendency to be a bit too strict with his first born, and dote on the youngest far too much.

Both would be trained in hand-to-hand combat; alongside Kyōka and Naomi’s kids

The son would potentially prove to be trouble for the Agency in that he’d want to take control forcefully

Though he would eventually reconcile with his father and prove to be a useful member of the Agency

The girl would be rather quiet and contemplative

Though Fukuzawa would feel rather betrayed, given that she prefers dogs to cats; she even keeps bone-shaped biscuits in her purse for them

As for the older son, despite his rough temper, he too prefers the docility of cats

Fukuzawa’s daughter admires traditional theatre and Noh Mai performances

She is also rather astute at sewing, crocheting, weaving, and much more, provided her patient nature and love of creating new patterns

Ranpo

Girl or Boy?: A mischievous pair of twin boys with enough pranks and energy to keep Ranpo busy

One loves mysteries and has his father’s wit

While the other has the street smarts and common sense both his brother and father lack

Both are infamous in the Agency (and some subsectors of Yokohama) for their pranks

One of their favourite pastimes is trying to create a faux-crime or prank so intricate that their father could never figure it out…they haven’t succeeded yet

Kunikida’s daughter and Atsushi’s kids are their main targets for pranks

They’re terrified of Kyoka’s daughter and Yosano’s son

They get along well with Jun’ichirō’s kids

Both love sweets and love learning how to hack things from Katai (and tease/prank him mercilessly when he refuses to give them lessons)

Kenji

Girl or Boy?: Two resourceful, happy-go-lucky farmer girls that pack a punch, much like their father.

Actually have the least amount of interaction with the Agency in that Kenji would most likely have them stay back at home with their grandparents (for their safety)

Though, upon arriving in Yokohama, they proved rather quickly that they can take care of themselves (i.e. they punched their way through a street brawl outside the train station with beaming smiles on their faces)

Both have major appetites for fruit and home cooked meals

They appear to be optimistic, like Kenji, but also more aware of their surroundings and situations

They’re outsiders in regards to the other children, but enjoy spending time with Fukuzawa’s daughter, especially when she lets them braid her hair

They’re fascinated by city life and actively wander around town (usually resulting in them getting lost) to look at landmarks 

The girls also get along increasingly well with Atsushi’s kids

Yosano

Girl or Boy?: An intelligent but lackadaisical boy who is a firm believer in his mother being the most clever and terrifying woman in existence.

Often studies with Kunikida’s daughter, as he is also one of the more astute children of the bunch

His ability, as the opposite of his mother’s, is similar to Fyodor’s devastating gift

As a result, he often kept to himself and through himself into his studies to make up for his lack of interpersonal connections

Though Yosano doesn’t want him to separate himself, she doesn’t push the matter, and is always happy to take him home early from Kunikida’s

Loves frogs, mice, and other animals usually used in lab experiments: would never be able to bring himself to harm them

Fearful of scalpels, but fascinated by the medical field nonetheless

Has a crush on Kyōka’s daughter, but due to his isolationism, usually says something awkward and scares and/or angers her

Dazai

Girl or Boy?: One curly-haired girl with a cynical view of life and a constant eye on her father (for his safety).

Loves puzzles and reading

Prefers time alone, but doesn’t mind spending time with the more serious children of the Agency from time to time

That being said, she cannot stand Ranpo’s boys or Naomi’s son

More mature in her mindset than the others, besides Fukuzawa’s children

Berates Dazai on his suicidal jokes, but on the inside is deeply worried about him

Has a peculiar hobby: baby proofing rooms (a result of living with her father)

 She becomes incredibly embarrassed when Dazai dotes on her in public

Can effectively use a first aid kit and CPR

When she relaxes around friends, she often has insightful comments from her more reflective moments to share

Aspires to be a writer

[house-of-ocs]

BSD YouTube AU What Channels Would the OCs Have?

Danielle Osa

Danielle’s channel name is FlowerPower.

It is a cute gardening/cooking channel.

Her follower count isn’t huge, but she appreciates every follower she has.

The gardening part of her channel is just her giving tips on the best way to plant things like hibiscus flowers, and how to properly care for the more difficult plants like African violets. She’s like a plant doctor kind of.

She also makes small recipes while telling her viewers about her day, or talking about anything really.

She also answers questions her viewers might have about their plants.

She makes stuff like cakes, cookies, pies, tarts, etc. She even takes requests on what she’ll bake next.

How her followers found out about Dazai

It was a Livestream Q & A night, and while she was answering questions Danielle would occasionally look off-screen.

One of the comments asked what she kept looking at, and Danielle answered “Oh, just my boyfriend.” Without thinking.

The comments EXPLODED!

Everyone wanted to know who her boyfriend was, a few even wanted to know how long they had been together.

Danielle certainly wasn’t expecting that, but she introduced Dazai to her followers during her next Livestream.

Having Dazai on her channel is a riot, let me tell you that.

He will not stop sharing embarrassing moments with her followers, and Danielle has to physically shove him away in order for him to stop.

Sexual innuendos to the max.

Comments that will leave Danielle red in the face, and leave Dazai beside himself with laughter.

Nina Franchesca

Her channel name is The Singing Dragon.

Her channel revolves mostly around music, but she’ll slip the occasional DIY in there.

She has a bearded dragon lizard that sometimes sits with her when she does her videos.

She sings covers of songs requested by her followers.

She has a little over 1,000 followers, and she’s talked to all of them at least once.

She’ll sing almost anything, but her favorite genre is pop music.

How her followers found out about Chuuya

She videotaped herself singing, and posts that to Youtube.

Sometimes when she’s singing Chuuya wanders into the screen and then wanders back out.

Everyone in the comments section has their theories, some more bizarre than others.

Nina’s favorite theory is that she has a red-haired ghost living with her.

Still, she knows that if she lets the theories continue they’ll become less than satisfactory.

So, she introduces Chuuya through the music she makes.

Chuuya has an amazing voice and Nina decides to sing a duet one of her followers requested.

Having Chuuya on her channel is really fun for her and he enjoys himself too.

He’s not there all the time but when he is he’s mostly answering questions.

Akkata Rye

Believe it or not, she has a makeup channel.

It’s called MakeUp Bitch!

She gives advice on how to do the perfect winged eyeliner among other things.

Think of that one meme where that girl is doing her eye-liner with a knife and you have Akkata’s channel.

She says it’s to “Fucking demolish any loser who thinks they can talk to you”

Her follower count depends on the day sometimes she gains followers other times she loses them, but the ones that have stuck around through it all are her favorites.

She mostly uses makeup in gothic colors that compliment her skin tone.

How her viewers met her boyfriend

She posted a video titled “I do my boyfriend’s makeup.” and it’s probably the most popular one she has.

She doesn’t do anything too complex just some eyeliner and mascara.

The video is basically her doing Akutagawa’s makeup while he bitches at her.

She fills in his eyebrows and almost dies laughing when she’s finished.

He makes her wash it off of him, and she does with little complaint.

When she’s finished he doesn’t look that much different other than the fact that his eyes look a bit sharper.

Her followers low-key like having him there.

He doesn’t talk much, but he’s pretty so they let it slide.

Attaka Lan

Her channel is completely animal-based.

It’s titled The Animal Whisperer.

She has an almost scary amount of knowledge on animals.

Her followers go to her for animal advice and tips and she helps them as best she can.

She also posts random animal videos.

She has a moderate amount of followers and she appreciates all of them.

How her followers met her boyfriend

Attaka has a pet cat named Sashimi.

He loves attention and he seems neediest when Attaka is doing a live Q & A

Attaka keeps Sashimi out of the room while she’s doing her Q & A so that he won’t distract her.

One day while Attaka is Livestreaming, Sashimi wanders into the room and a beige-haired male wanders in after him quietly calling for Sashimi to come back.

Attaka didn’t notice, but her followers did.

Almost immediately, everyone started asking her who was standing behind her.

“Ah, that’s just my boyfriend, Atsushi” She answered.

Everyone in the comments started asking if they could meet Atsushi.

“Atsushi come here! My followers wanna meet you!”

Atsushi slowly shuffled into the frame, still holding Sashimi in his grasp.

Attaka’s followers asked him simple questions, nothing too personal.

Some even asked if he knew as much about animals as Attaka did.

He told them that he didn't know nearly as much about the animal kingdom like Attaka did.

After that Atsushi showed up in Attaka’s videos more often.

He wouldn’t say much, sometimes he would wander into the frame, and give Attaka a quick kiss before disappearing again.

A/N: Abi doesn’t have a YouTube account. These were fun to make I hope you enjoyed reading it.

[bungou-stray-dogs-indulgences]

You know that "who you should fight" meme? Could you do a BSD version of it, if it's not too much to ask?

(Ngl this may be the best thing I’ve ever answered)

WHO YOU SHOULD FIGHT

ADA

Atsushi: You win(?)

Walk right up to him and beat the ever-loving shit of him. He’ll apologize to you. An easy fight, just don’t slip in any tasteless orphan jokes, it’ll have the opposite effect intended and he’ll take you the fuck out with the pure intent to prove he’s worthy. You could beat him but the psychological weight of crushing someone so innocent will ensure that you never feel right again. Fight him if you have no soul.

Dazai: You lose

He’ll turn the whole affair into a big joke. If you, by some stroke of luck, actually hit him, he’ll probably just say ‘harder daddy’. The psychological effects of brawling Dazai will be devastating either way. DO. NOT.  FIGHT.

Ranpo: You win

Honestly, it’s hardly worth your time. He hasn’t eaten anything but chocolate cake and cheap lollipops for the last six years, not to mention any form of physical exercise. He’s got pale-ass noodle arms and a muffin top (don’t believe the official art’s lies. The bitch eats solely from a candy shop and looks like he just topped off a cycling session with Jillian Micheals? Get the fuck out). Just don’t bring a Jolly Rancher shiv because he’ll eat the damn thing. Undoubtedly fight, just be prepared to book it like a fucking librarian after you knock him out because the rest of the ADA will come after you.

Kyouka: Depends 

Look, fourteen’s a shitty age even when you’re not dealing with pressing morality crises.There is nothing Kyouka wants more in this world than to dial herself, let Demon Snow rip and raise her kill count to thirty seven. But all you gotta do to keep her at bay is debate on morality like Matthew fucking Murdock in Netflix’s Daredevil. If you can successfully hold her back with discussion on ethics (and how hers will be jack-shit if she slaughters you) you have a slim chance of victory. A great fight if you need to practice for speech class.

Kunikida: You lose

You might think victory’s as simple as tossing his notebook in a nearby water fountain and watching him flip a lid, but this is an absolutely awful tactic and the inside of your head will be decorating the sidewalk in mere milliseconds. He beats Dazai’s band-aid wrapped flanks on the daily and he won’t hesitate to destroy yours. If you fight, at least your cause of death can be listed as ‘blonde beefcake’s rippling biceps’.

Kenji: You win

Just feed him a few bowls of Spaghetti-o’s before you deck him and the little blonde bitch won’t stand a chance. You can smack him back into the cultist backwater rice paddies he crawled out of easy as smacking a crippled fly. A perfect fight for abusing a fourteen year old without getting into too much trouble. 

Fukuzawa: You lose

You might think you could dress up in a kitty costume and sneak up to him. And you could. It would be easy, in fact. He’s so focused on the cuteness he won’t notice any maliscious intent. Despite this his reflexes are simply too quick and he’ll still take you the fuck out when you make your move. A bad fight from all angles. You’ll have to fend off his adopted, dysfunctional ADA children too. Just don’t.

PORT MAFIA

Akutagawa: Depends (99.5% losing chance. risky.)

Yeah, you’re fucked. Akutagawa won’t even wait until you initiate, he’ll be the one attacking you, probably over something minor and stupid like the color of your pants is personally offensive. Rashomon will be slicing and dicing you into a smoothie for cannibals before you know what hit you. The only way you make it out alive is if by some stroke of luck Dazai happens to be in a one hundred mile radius and Akutagawa’s senpai-radar starts going off. Fight only if you bring My Chemical Romance vinyls to punt at him; they’re his biggest weakness .

Chuuya: Depends (99.75% losing chance. Cross thy fingers and pray)

Facing Chuuya is a bigger risk than that board game. He’s practically impervious to all close-up melee and he’s too small of a target to be hit with anything from afar. You might think you’d have a fighting chance if you knocked his hat off; after all, that’s basically all he is. A hat rack prone to alcoholism. But that fury will only make him stronger and he’ll crush you like you’re a cum-covered Dazai body pillow. As with Akutagawa your only glimmer of hope for survival is if bandage-kun happens to be close by because Chuuya will prioritize and leave your now crippled ass in the dust that he punted you in. Only fight while intoxicated. (Both of you. Not just him. It’s more fun that way. Much like Turkish oil wrestling but with more gravity.)

Mori: You lose

If you want to fight him you’ve obviously got a death wish and I’m not going to stop you. There’s easier ways to go though, man. Easier ways. His expression won’t even change when he whips out that scalpel (I don’t believe that man’s ever been to medical school) and filets you like a fresh caught tuna, on its way to a B-rated fast food join. Your body’s gonna get left on the pavement for the stray dogs. (No, I’m not gonna finish that joke. Low hanging fruit. I have some dignity.) If you want to die that bad, just go see if Dazai will suicide with you. It’ll be significantly less painful

Elise: I fucking dare you

I mean, you probably could take her out, she’s like seven. Mori will let her play skip rope with your small intestine after she’s recovered. Rest In Peace if you even consider it.

Kouyou: You lose

I don’t know what would inspire you to be so stupid. She’ll just let out a dignified little chuckle and shove that umbrella sword so far up your ass you’ll be tasting acid rain for months, and she’ll do it all in the most ladylike way possible. Unless you’re ready for your innards to end up in a teapot, served with chocolate-coated orange wafers at tea break, just don’t fight.

Oda: ???

He’s fucking dead. What are you gonna do, kick his headstone, maybe plant some weeds over his grave? Just don’t mention the burnt orphan soup, or he’ll literally rise and put you in his coffin instead. If you’re willing to dabble into necromancy, knock yourself (or him, in this case) out.

Q: Haha

I get why you’d want to fight him, I really do. He looks like a miniature Cruella Deville on an acid trip. But you just don’t have a chance. Hit him. Go ahead. As soon as you so much as brush him he has the power to destroy your shit like it’s never been destroyed before. Will annihilate you from the inside out. The deadliest emo thirteen year old there’s ever been; avoid at all costs!!!

Higuchi: You LOSE

You might think you have a chance because she doesn’t have an ability. But you’re gravely mistaken. Higuchi is bitter. Higchi is ruthless. Higuchi does not give a fuck about anything other than getting Emotagawa-senpai to notice her. She has nothing, nothing to lose and she will not rest until she’s pulling your tonsils through your asshole in the hopes that Akutagawa will give her a thumbs-up for slaughtering you. DO NOT fight. She stands to lose nothing and gain everything.

THE GUILD

Hawthorne: You lose

You might think that you’d have a fighting chance because he’s a priest and priest’s aren’t supposed to wreck people’s shit but he will see your sins and you won’t even see him coming. Try to punch him his ability is literally activated by injuries. Knocks you out with a psalter hymnal and ships you off to Bible camp while you’re unconscious.  Only fight if you have never sinned, not once, ever.

Steinbeck: Depends

If you’re from the city he’ll destroy you. Farm boys always tear apart city people no questions asked. If that fact doesn’t dissuade you then just prepare yourself not to be freaked the fuck out when he jack-knifes his own neck and starts sprouting flora. As long as you keep your cool you’ve got a 30/70 chance. Only fight if you bring a metric fucktonne of weed killer.

Poe: You win (biggest douchecanoe award, but that’s about it)

Physically, sure, you could sneeze within fifty feet of his pasty ass and take him down. But really? Do you really want to hurt him? He’ll stare right into your soul with those sad, sad eyes and wonder just what he did to inspire such bitterness in you. If you can still fuck him up after that then you’d best kiss your spirit goodbye because it’s descending to the seventh level of fiery hell as you read this. Plus, honestly, there’s no true triumph against a man whose best bud is a raccoon. That’s just too rad. If you can deal with the pressing moral consequences and a pissed off  raccoon, go for it. (You monster). 

Mitchell: You win

All you have to do is push her hospital bed down the stairs and pretend it was an accident. Her comatose ass can’t do a thing to stop you. Fight if you’re ready to run from angry hospital staff.

Fitzgerald: You lose 

You know, this sentient sack of Benjamins deserves it, in all honesty, but don’t try. Him and his power suit will kick you into the next millennia before you can say ‘old sport’. Prepare to be crushed by capitalism.

Melville: You win

He’s like eighty and his ability’s a goddamn floating whale. As long as you don’t throw down at Sea World, you’re good. Fight as long as you’re not in front of an assisted living facility; the CNAs will think he’s a resident and defend him.

Lovecraft: Depends

Attack him while he’s trying to nap and he’ll be too lazy to get up. Otherwise… yeah, just google ‘Cthulhu’. You’ll get the idea. Don’t fight: there’s no beating weaponized tentacle porn.

Montgomery: You lose

Go right ahead and try, she’ll whisk you away to her Melanie-Martinez ass torture dimension and let Anne mop the floor with your teeth. It’s kind of like challenging God. Unless you want to spend eternity in an unsexy rip-off of the 50 shades Red Room, DO. NOT. ENGAGE.

Twain: You win

Twain’s all talk, anybody that walks around with their titties hanging out 24/7 is definitely trying to distract from something. In this case he’s trying to fool people into thinking he’s not a dictionary-definition pussy. Rip the heads off his muppet babies and he doesn’t even have an ability anymore, the schmuck. Fight when you’re looking for a quick self-esteem boost. 

Alcott: You win

This poor woman does not deserve to be tortured anymore than she already is by the weight of her own social awkwardness, but if you really insist: make a derogatory comment and she’s basically down for the count already, no physical contact necessary. If you really want to dominate, just steal her glasses and she instantly morphs into a significantly less foxy Velma Dinkley. Also significantly less prone to self defense. An A-1 fight for when you’re looking to cement residency in Hell.

OTHER

Ango: Depends

You would think his beanpole ass would be an easy target. You’d be wrong, though. So very wrong. He’s been chugging tomato juice like it’s his job for the past forever and he’s got a snazzy pair of handcuffs he’s just dying to break out. If you sabotage basic safety features on his car, though, he’s a goner. Just sneakily unbuckle his seat belt while he’s driving and you’ve basically defeated him right then and there. A good fight for practicing strategic tactics and subtle vehicle vandalism.

Fyodor: You lose

Just ask A how that one turned out. Actually, ask anyone in the manga what throwing down with Fyodor entails. (Unless you only watch the anime, then just wait for the season three that we’re probably not getting) He’ll escort you personally to the gates of hell with a flick to your forehead. Then he’ll step right over your still-warm corpse and start playing the cello with that unnecessarily wide leg-spreadage. Mess with this sentient ushanka hat and he’ll uSHANKa you.