#o grantors of dark disgrace need not wake me again

[little-blurry-stars5]

Chat did I cook

[catclyssm]

WHAT POISONOUS FLOWER ARE YOU?

Belladonna

This is the poison of falling in love. You taste it and your heart beats fast. Your eyes dilate, you fall into deep delirium. You may be a bit dramatic and impulsive, and it gets you into trouble sometimes, but you just can't help yourself. It's in your blood. You love because it is the truest beauty you've found in this harsh world. Even when it's hurt you before, when it's poisoned you, you still find a way. They may call you naive for still believing in it, or vain for making yourself and your surroundings so meticulously lovely. But to love like this is brave and noble, and I hope you find the beauty you seek. Chances are, it's within and all around you already, if you know where to look.

tagged by : @vulpesly

tagging: @reasoncore, @prodigls. @piercingdarke. @pavocelus owowowowow

[chuu-huahua]

i told @downbadforpixels that i was gonna write SLEEPING BEAUTY PT.2 and i keep my promises (most of the time). i know chapter 109 came out like 2 days ago but it's all i can think about right now :( tw blood

you know the whole "our fate will not end in a place like this. because you and i are destined to-" shebang? yea that. let's start from there.

bram can feel the tug of the sword deep in his brain, making him grit his teeth. the table makes it off the tower, and aya can only rush to grab onto bram's head and pull. it comes out cleaner than they both expected, thankfully, and they watch as the table crashes down onto the ground below, breaking into several pieces of wood. bram is quick to release his control over the vampires as his body pieces itself back together.

in meursault, chuuya's fingers that clutch onto the gun loosen, and the weapon clacks onto the ground. they rise to his head as he screams, his consciousness a mess as his vision clears. dazai's cooling body is sitting before him, and chuuya reaches a hand out to touch his cheek. it's colder than usual.

"congratulations, nakahara. you've defeated the enemy," fyodor's voice echos in the hallway from the speaker, and chuuya can almost imagine the smug smile on that rat's face. his teeth no longer include the longer canines it did before, so when his teeth grind together he does not worry about breaking any skin.

"o grantors of dark disgrace..."

"nakahara?"

"you need not wake me again."

when chuuya comes to, he's face to face with dazai again, but this time the brunette is awake and smiling. meursault lies in ruins around them, and chuuya can spot fyodor's dismembered body amongst the broken walls and crumbling infrastructure.

he wraps his arms around dazai's lanky frame, pulling his face close to his. dazai chuckles, bending his back to accommodate for their difference in height.

"is the chibi finally going to grant me my sleeping beauty kiss?"

"what else, you bastard?"

[writing-and-art]

#14

context: verlaine is late.

-

“You’re not even human,” N says dispassionately, measuring his vitals.

And it’s the apathy that does it. Maybe Chuuya would have been able to handle it if he had sneered. Laughed, even. Anything but apathy.

It’s the matter of fact way he says it. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and Chuuya Nakahara’s life is built on a lie. A fanciful fantasy, almost. A series of pitiable delusions used to make a science experiment feel anything other than a tragic sort of hopelessness.

 Here’s the thing:

When the flags (his family) had died, Chuuya retreated. He shut down his feelings and the urge to scream for a mother he doesn’t remember. What else could he have done? Broken down sobbing? 

Tears were a luxury Chuuya doesn’t think he’s ever had, not since he crawled out of the destruction of his own making, power lingering under his tongue and fingertips; shaking from a mixture of adrenaline- the need to survive, to claw his way out no matter what.

So yes, it’s the apathy that does it. Chuuya retreats. He hides his self, his feelings. Oh, no doubt that he’s strong. But here’s the thing:

Above all, Chuuya had been a kid.

Maybe, in another life, Verlaine comes to piss Chuuya off and remind him shit has to be done. In this one, Verlaine is still off doing fuck knows what, so it’s just a scientist and his experiment- a lonely kid with no way of processing anything. 

And when the next round of torture comes?

“O’… grantors of… dark disgrace…” he slurs, fighting to keep his eyes open. Every nerve in his body screams at him not to. And that’s the problem, isn’t it? Chuuya’s so, so tired of fighting.

“you… need not wake me… again.”

To say the words ring of finality would be a lie. Here’s the thing: theoretically, if corruption goes on long enough, Chuuya will be swallowed by his own singularity. Chuuya Nakahara will have never existed.

So, no. Finality is a thing for humans, not for an experiment who’s undeserving of even a heart. If Chuuya dies, it will be silent. It will be an unnerving juxtaposition between his life and death.

A fitting end for a boy who’s life is built atop a fragile tower of delusions.

Arahabaki howls, and the world turns red.

A door swings open.

[snooky05]

O’ grantors of dark disgrace, you need not wake me again

[blue-thief]

Hi do you still have some headcanons for your bsd tgcf au you sparked some fireworks in my mind and now I need more if you have some :)

hi!! i'm flattered that you're interested in my au, but unfortunately, i never ended up making more beyond that original post lol. it gained really slow traction at first so i didn't think anyone cared

however, if you're interested, i DO have some notes on an old bsd/tgcf crossover. i won't be able to write it anymore though bc my writing process has changed a LOT since then

• 2 ½ centuries after the canon events of tgcf

• (random note: pei xiu and shi qingxuan have re-ascended)

• mount tong'lu opens up again

• a bunch of martial gods and junior officials are sent to cut off the paths, but a powerful savage-level ghost called "rashoumon" kills them off

• rashoumon has the ability to turn the fabric of his clothing into whatever he wants

• the heavenly officials have a meeting in the public communication array and decide to send martial gods to kill off any ghosts who have a shot at becoming supremes again

• hua cheng, xie lian, pei ming, lang qianqiu, mu qing, and feng xin are sent again

• guzi also goes

• shi qingxuan insists on going too because she believed there's a chance that he xuan will be there

• a god known as dazai osamu, who ascended a century ago and is able to nullify spiritual energy with a single touch, also goes because, based on the description of rashoumon's abilities, he believes he knows him

• he brings along nakajima atsushi, a god who can transform into a tiger and used to be his deputy god

• obviously, one of their big targets is rashoumon

• but there's also he xuan who might seek going through the kiln to become even more powerful

• he and shi qingxuan meet again and their relationship is beyond repair

• however, he xuan confesses to regretting exacting revenge on shi wudu and that he genuinely cared for shi qingxuan despite everything

• they seperate again, but not before he xuan properly apologizes

• there's also another savage-level ghost called "arahabaki" that can crush people into the ground and move things with his mind

• about a century ago, a man with the same powers infiltrated ghost city with a few subordinates and burned down the qiandeng temple

• (still refering to what happened a century ago) hua cheng and xie lian hunted him down to a cultivation sect and found the man insanely drunk on wine

• they fought, and despite the fact that the man was a mortal at the time, his martial arts abilities and spiritual abilities forced the both of them to fight to their limits

• there was a point where the both of them were being crushed into the ground and hua cheng took the opportunity to get e'ming to stab him in the back

• apparently, that wasn't even the full extent of the man's power

• he muttered, "dammit. you better come back for me, you bastard. o grantors of dark disgrace, you need not wake me again."

• the humanity in his eyes disappeared and he became a terrifying being, sending blasts of pressure at them

• hua cheng and xie lian barely escaped with their lives

• (present day again) they find arahabaki and it turns out, his name was nakahara chuuya

• he fights with hua cheng and xie lian again until dazai nullifies his ability and knocks him out gently when things become too intense

• hua cheng: "what was that for?"

• dazai: "as much as i respect you and your power, you can only dream of ever reaching the same level as chuuya."

• that night at the camp the gods have set up, hua cheng, xie lian, and dazai explain how they each know chuuya

• dazai explains how they were partners in a cultivation group called the "port sect" led by a man named mori ougai

• mori, along with a man named fukuzawa yukuchi, was an apprentice of a god named natsume souseki who discovered that every soul was unique, and if one went under certain training, they could unlock an ability unique only to them

• mori and fukuzawa discovered their own abilities and went on to teach other cultivators to help unlock their abilities

annnd that's all i got 😭😭 sorry, i wish i had more. if anyone wants to pick up after me, i'd be fine with that as long as i'm given credit and a link to the fic

[starbunnypop]

O grantors of dark disgrace, you need not wake me again.

Happy Halloween! 

☆PRINTS☆

[chazukekani]

Previous // Next

Summary for Code:03 is here! I hope you guys will enjoy (spoilers, not really!)

Recap: Murase-officer was killed by Verlaine, so Chuuya and Adam were going to find out why he had become Verlaine's target.

From the blue mobile phone acquired from Murase-officer's pocket, Adam believed that the phone was not the original but got replaced by someone, and hence Adam inferred that Verlaine was the one who did this in order to wiretap his call, and Adam was able to get the recording of the final call on Murase-officer's phone.

'It's me, brother,' that's the voice of Murase-officer.

'The gravity guy is here, just like what you said. Wait! There is one more person! Who is this? What's his relationship with Chuuya! Call me when you hear this!" and that's the end of the call.

This recording took place shortly after Verlaine invaded the police station.

'That's very interesting,' Adam was sure about something, 'With reference to my record, his brother was supposed to be dead already.'

Murase-officer's brother, was dead in April 14 years ago. He died in an accident while conducting an experiment. His name was not on the official record, nor there was any photograph of his appearance, so let's call him N for now.

'Officer-san's brother, participated in the research of Arahabaki?' Chuuya said.

The creator of Arahabaki...? Adam could not handle such surprise in his mind. The trio (Chuuya, Adam and Shirase) continue to deduce the hints they have. They supposed N was probably the only survivor as all scientists were dead during one explosion of the experiment. Now they know, Verlaine's next target was N because he was the only one left who knew the secrets behind Chuuya. Henceforth, they have to find N now.

'Hey, you...' Shirase looked at Adam with a terrified face as if seeing a ghost. Adam was confused, but the next second he realised, that was Adam himself talking.

'I am the one who needs your help,' Adam's mouth moved, 'Adversely, you need my help too. I am the one whom you called N.' The man who called N hacked into Adam and delivered this message.

'I can no longer speak to you in such a way, come here, I want to meet you. I will leave the address in this machine.'

'Hey, wait. Meet us? What do you know?' said Chuuya

'Everything, Chuuya. Everything about you.' that voice spoke as if a god with a very calm voice, 'I am looking forward to meet you,' and the connection was lost.

-

They have arrived at their destination. It was a huge and broad place underground, as big as a tennis court, and there were firewalls built  in the surrounding with guards guarding the front gate. Chuuya, Adam and Shirase were stopped by the guards and demanded to do a blood check before they could proceed for security purposes, but of course, Adam was spared from it.

After finishing the check, they finally saw N. That person that stood in front of them, was exactly the one who stood next to Chuuya in the picture that the Flags gave him.

'I am the director of the Arahabaki Project. The military named me as N because this is the initial of Nakahara.'

'I am your father.'

-

'What do you think ability is?' The group were in a corridor of the facility.

'We, researchers, frankly speaking, don't really know what ability is. How embarrassing,' N proceeded.

But there were few things that were confirmed. Other forms of life apart from humans, such as animals or plants, are not able to possess ability. Also, when the human dies, the ability that he has will together vanish from this world. Every ability has a maximum of output of power, and the military wanted to know so badly how we could break the limits. Yes, there is a way to break the limit, and that's called ability singularity. This is a phenomenon that occurred as a result of two or more contradicting abilities interfering with each other. Which means usually it requires at least two ability users to create such a phenomenon.

However, there is one type of ability user that is able to create an ability singularity on his own. They are able to do so because their ability itself consists of theoretical contradiction. The first person who discovered this was a German scientist, and he named this type of ability 'self-contradicting ability'. To be precise, this ability allows the user to amplify the output of their own ability. Since the user can continue amplifying the power of their own ability, it gives them an unlimited source of power, which breaks through the limit of ability. However, this user also needs to take the risk because once they are granted infinite power, the high density of the energy will create a distortion in space and collapse it into a gravity vortex, and can never go back.

There was an intense competition between Germany, France and Britain on investigating this subject. Since Japan was the ally of Germany, Japan also acquired various techniques and reports regarding this topic. Since most of the countries were running out of resources by the end of the war, they were eager to take theories into practice, and the most advanced country on this topic was France. They successfully weaponised ability singularity, and they found out that the most effective way to control it was heart, in other words, the human's soul. Yet with such huge energy, it was afraid that ordinary humans were not capable to manage it, but ironically, only humans are capable of possessing ability. Therefore, the French scientists came up with a solution, and that is to create a homunculus with a soul, and that’s how Paul Verlaine came. Years later, the Japanese government also obtained the related information and hence proceeded to conduct a similar experiment, which later what was known as the Arahabaki Project.

-

N wanted to show Chuuya something, but it was considered top secret. So he asked Adam and Shirase to wait while he and Chuuya would go somewhere else.

While going to another room, Chuuya told N that he recognised this place. However, N told him that it was just the No.2 Laboratory which had the same design as No.1 Laboratory, and it was destroyed during the Arahabaki Project. So what Chuuya remembered was actually the environment of the No.1 Lab. Meanwhile, Chuuya recalled some of his memories in this facility. He recalled that he had been staying in darkness for a long time. Yet, he heard 'Invaders!' 'Lock area 8 and 15!' one day. He used to be inside a cradle and locked from the outside world. But that day, someone broke the cradle and a hand touched Chuuya. That's Rimbaud's hand, and next to him was Verlaine.

'You are a miracle, Chuuya,' said N.

N showed something to Chuuya, and that's a cylinder which has a size similar to Chuuya. The container was transparent, and it had some blue and black liquid kept inside it so it was quite difficult to see through.

'Who is inside!' Chuuya yelled, but N didn't say a word.

N pressed a button via a remote in his pocket, and the liquid began to drain, and Chuuya was shocked to see what appeared in front of him.

What inside the cylinder, was Chuuya.

The Chuuya inside the container had his eyes closed, and quite thin. His leg was locked by two chains respectively that linked to the bottom of the cylinder.

'May I introduce, your original,' said N.

Chuuya's jaw dropped.

Suddenly, the teen inside the cylinder was in pain, and could not breathe. He cough badly and almost had his organs cough out.

'Hey! Are you alright!' Chuuya yelled.

'No way he would be alright,' said N, 'he had his living-saving fetal aqueous solution drained after all.

Chuuya grabbed the controller from N and pressed all the buttons on it, but nothing happened. Shortly after, that teen died, and his body including his skin, flesh melted together into a blue-black liquid.

All of a sudden, Chuuya felt dizzy and fell down.

'I designed you, so I know you the best. No matter how strong you are, you are incompatible with poison,' said N. Chuuya realised that poison was injected during the blood check. He was furious and tried to punch N. Yet, a bullet hit Chuuya's forehead, and he lost his consciousness immediately.

-

On the other hand, likewise, Shirase also felt dizzy. Adam noticed Chuuya might be in trouble as well. After keeping Shirase in a safe placed, he proceed to search for Chuuya.

-

In a room of nothing, Chuuya's upper clothing was deprived, and he was bleeding. The most serious injury he had was on his chest. His hands were locked up by chains that connected to the ceiling, and electricity went through his body via this chain. Under the order of N, Chuuya was injected with midazolam, and continued being tortured.

N revealed that Chuuya was the only experimental product in the country that consisted of a safety measure - in order to activate his full ability, a spell was needed. Once Chuuya said the spell, his personality will be erased and overridden. Such that Chuuya would be free from pain and darkness. And the spell was-

'O grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again! I will endure my solitude, arms seemingly already useless,' N said the spells.

'O grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again...' Chuuya repeated after N as if an automatic robot. This was the result of the midazolam.

'Very well,' N smiled

'I will...WHO ARE YOU?' Chuuya yelled.

'Raise the power,' N ordered the assistant to give Chuuya another electric shock, and Chuuya screamed.

-

Chuuya was not in a stable state of mind. He saw different kinds of illusion. He saw Dazai, Piano Man, Albatross, Ice Man, Lippmann and Doc, and the members of sheep. He was blamed by such an illusion, and his value of existence was denied.

The last person who showed up was Verlaine.

'I will kill this researcher,' said Verlaine in Chuuya's illusion. He gave his hand out to Chuuya and said, 'come here,'

'Why...' said Chuuya

'Didn't I tell you when we first met? I am here to save you,' Verlaine replied, 'Go, my brother. Kill N and take your soul back from this crazy world.'

-

Adam was dealing with the soldiers that were attacking him. At once, a teenager showed up in front of Adam, and he's Dazai.

'Nice to meet you Mr Inspector,' Dazai greeted, and he continued, ' "Why are you here?" I believe that's what you wanna ask me. I will tell you. That's a stage of the plan. "What's the plan?" you may ask, and I will tell you, everything.'

Dazai explained that the documents that he gave to Verlaine was the information about Murase-officer, N, and everything else. The purpose behind this was to save time, because Verlaine's initial first target was Mori. Hence, by manipulating the information, Dazai can squeeze out extra time and assassinate Verlaine back.

'According to the plan, Chuuya will kill N, and will not be a human anymore. However  I want to see Chuuya as a human, so I am here to stop him,' said Dazai.

-

A fight broke out in the laboratory where Chuuya was staying, and other people were evacuated from the facility.

Chuuya had immense hatred towards N.

'W...wait! I can't help with it! It's all work! I never ever once wanted you to suffer on my own!' N cried and tried to escape from Chuuya.

'Don't listen to him Chuuya,' Verlaine showed up in the entrance.

Chuuya was holding a chain on his hand tightly, and threw it out with the speed of sound and stabbed the target: Verlaine's chest.

'W...what?'

'Didn't see that coming right, Verlaine. It's true that the researcher is harsh, but you killed Piano Man and the others after all,' Chuuya said, and the 'brothers' had a fight.

There was a mass explosion everywhere inside the room. The punches were able to create tiny suns and the gravity made the room collapse.

Amid the fight, N, who was injured nearby, yelled to Verlaine, 'If I died, you would never know your secret!'

' I am not joking, everything. Including the one you wanna know most - the Secret of the Gentle Forest,'

'How do you know this!' Verlaine shouted.

But there was no spare time for them, All of a sudden, a skeleton appeared. That's Chuuya's original, and that's what the body left after dying and melting in Chuuya's arm just now. It was connected with the tube and wearing a coat. The skeleton was under the control of N and launched attacks towards Chuuya, and he couldn't move

Shirase, who woke up and found Chuuya, surprisingly appeared and saved Chuuya by plugging out the tube from the skeleton. A while after, Adam and Dazai also found where Chuuya was. The battle was paused.

All of a sudden, the light in the room was turned off, but turned back on a few seconds afterwards. Yet, Verlaine and N were gone, and the ceilings of consecutive multiple floors above were gone as well.

Code 3 ended

[soukokuwu]

hi !! angst scenario request? imagine chuuya engaging in one of his corruption form rampages. his s/o trying to calm him down, and in this state he kills her without understanding who she is? when he comes to (w help of dazai’s ability) he realizes what happened, finding the mangled body of his s/o laying in front of him. if u could write this i think i’d cry

➥ angst [chuuya x reader]

➥ warning/s: death, very slight gore

➥ word count: 1.7k

➥ a/n: hello anony thank you for the idea i absolutely love it & i tried not to make this too heavy, but i hope you enjoy reading this 🤍✨

➥ info: tanzaku — small pieces of coloured paper

This is life.

Its beauty lies in the fact that it can be so wonderfully or horribly unpredictable at times; it could make you feel on cloud nine one day and the next it takes it all away.

But he knows better than to blame life. No, this is all his doing. If he hadn’t been damned with this ability, you would still be here, next to him, holding his arm and kissing him with those gentle, soft lips of yours. He still remembers the feeling of it pressing against his cheek. Will he ever be able to forget it? No — he better not. He doesn’t want to ever forget it, because he can’t have it any more.

Don’t let me forget. Please.

The redhead doesn’t know who he’s begging to. Life? The gods above? It’s useless, but a part of him says it’s better to wish than to not. Which part of him was that again?

You.

He still remembers the words you uttered that day, fresh in his mind like it was yesterday.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A year ago.

“What are you going to wish for?”

Chuuya chuckled, already penning down his wish. “I thought we weren’t supposed to share wishes?”

You pouted and scoffed. “Fine then, be that way,” you resigned, before hurriedly scribbling your wish on the tanzaku.

“What are you wishing for?”

“Nah, you’d probably think it’s stupid.”

“Then why’re you still wishing for it?” Chuuya had asked, watching curiously as you smiled looking over your wish.

“Better to wish than to not, right?” And you flashed him such a sweet smile he remembers it so clearly until this day.

It was your seventh month together, and it fell on the seventh day of the seventh month. You had had an idea to drive up to a shrine a half hour away from Yokohama to celebrate tanabata; the day the star-crossed lovers would be able to meet.

The two of you hung your wishes up on the same branch that dusk. You looked so wonderful that day, in your blue floral yukata. You chose that because it resembled the color of his sky blue eyes, you had said. You had asked him to get one of a similar color, so that the two of you ‘would look better together’.

It didn’t matter though, because Chuuya believed you looked beautiful everyday. It was just you — the way your lips curled up in a smile, the wrinkles forming as your eyes turned into crescents as you laughed, the way they sparkled every time after he kissed you. It would never be the same with anyone else, he was sure of it. No one could make him feel the way you do. Never.

And as the two of you continued to appreciate the festival after hanging your wishes, Chuuya couldn’t help but feel the warmth building up inside his chest everytime he looked at you. He helped you secure your wish around the branch, and he accidentally caught a glimpse of it.

I wish to stay with Chuuya forever.

Chuuya remembered the way your hands felt, with fingers intertwined in his, as you bounced from stall to stall, getting him to try all sorts of snacks and sweets. He remembered the melodic sound of your laugh travelling to his ears, he remembered how fluffy your hair looked, with the moonlight threading in between your gorgeous locks.

But then an urgent call from Mori got in the way. An incapacitated Akutagawa meant trouble for Higuchi and the other grunts — and possibly all of Yokohama.

He still remembered what you told him from the passenger side, still all smiles despite having your evening interrupted.

“Hey, Chuuya?” you called.

Chuuya didn’t even glance in your direction. He just replied with a “yes, princess?”

“Will you take me here every year?”

This time he stopped at a red light and looked over at you, hands cupping your cheeks. “I promise you, next year we’ll be here and nothing will disturb us,” and he places a kiss on your nose. “And every year after that.”

You were satisfied with that, because you giggled and bit your lower lip, probably to keep yourself from smiling too hard. “I’ll hold you to that, Chuu.”

Chuuya chuckled and ruffled your hair before turning his attention back to the street. He hated that nickname, but he always let it slide with you. It sounded so good rolling off your tongue. Only you.

It was a bloody sight, so many grunts knocked out by the time he got there. By a… monster. Huge, unforgiving.

He needed to use it. He needed corruption. It was too destructive for anything normal to be able to knock it out; heck, even Akutagawa was passed out. He still remembered the desperation in your eyes as you pleaded with him, but there wasn’t time to fight. If he didn’t stop it here, it would destroy Yokohama and everyone in it. He knew you didn’t want him to, but some things had to be done.

“Oh, grantors of dark disgrace. You need not wake me again.”

The next thing he remembered during the fight is your voice, coming to him all muffled and stuttery.

“He’s coming,” he heard you say. “So please, please baby, please hold on until then.”

He remembered seeing your face, smiling even through all your tears, trying desperately to hold onto him, your arms tightening around his waist. You kept calling his name, pleading for you to stop, and for a moment he felt like he had control over his limbs again, for just that split second. But it vanished just as soon as it came.

And it was like in that moment, both of you knew what was going on in each other’s minds. Chuuya was panicking, he willed every part of him to stop. He knew what was coming.

No, no, no! No, stop, don’t —

But his hands were already moving. The hands that only knew how to destroy, how to kill. And you knew that. Yet you still smiled so sweetly up at him as you gave him a last embrace.

You were mumbling against his chest, but he heard it somehow, loud and clear. “I’m happy enough to have been with you, Chuuya. I love you, always.”

There wasn’t even a scream, he was almost sure you held it back. He was sure you didn’t want him to hear that scream as the last thing that escaped your lips. You wanted to leave him some good last words, didn’t you?

When he came to, the first thing he saw was a familiar pair of brown eyes looking down at him. So that’s who you meant was coming.

And then he recalled what happened earlier. And then his heart fell. He needed to find you.

Please don’t be dead.

It came in an instinctive prayer.

Every muscle in his body was screaming at him to stop moving, everywhere ached, but he had to find you. He struggled but he managed to stand up, and spotted you where everyone else was circling around.

And even from that distance, he could see your arms and legs a little twisted, and the blood that pooled around you.

“Chuuya!”

He could hear Dazai calling out to him but he didn’t care.

When he got to you, he fell to his knees, hunched over your body, arms not knowing whether to even touch you; your body was so... mangled.

That night he stayed by your side, all the way, wherever they brought your body, until Kouyou had to pull him away and get him to rest.

He was wrong.

The monster wasn’t the thing that tried to destroy the city. The monster... was him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Even now he winces at the memory.

Chuuya looks up at the colorfully decorated bamboo branches. The same spot where you had hung your wishes with him a year ago. It feels so much emptier without you next to him.

He looks down at the urn he brought.

“Here we are, princess, just like I promised,” he croaks out.

The leaves of the trees hanging overhead sway in the breeze, and he instinctively presses the urn tighter against his body, like how he would do to you, because you always got cold easily.

He looks down at his hands, opening his palms. The same hands that killed you. He sees the same yukata he’s wearing that same day you died. Your voice is clear in his mind as he recalls your words, “well, doesn’t my executive look so handsome today?”

Rain starts pelting down, interrupting his thoughts. And he should really go for shelter, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to move from this spot. Though he does make sure to cover your urn with his sleeve. He crushes the tanzaku in his hand. It doesn’t deserve to be hung up. He doesn’t deserve to wish for anything. Everything is the way it is because of him anyway.

He recalls that second he saw your wish. He remembers how warm it felt. To see you wish for the same thing as he did. He had written: For you to be with me forever.

And now? In his hand?

I wish for her to come back.

How absolutely ridiculous; to wish for something that is impossible. And still he tries to give you what you wished for; to be with him forever, always carrying you wherever he went, with the exception of missions.

How absolutely ridiculous all this was. And yet, as he continues to stand in the rain, Chuuya keeps repeating it in his head.

Please come back to me.

Even as your last words replay in his head.

Please come back to me.

Even as he grabbed on tighter to your urn.

Please come back to me.

Even as nothing happened.

Please come back to me.

Even as he fell to his knees and screamed until he choked on his own tears.

There’s only one thing he wants.

Please come back to me.

This is life.

And it is hell.

tags: @yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes

[wildflowerhaze]

Nakahara Chuuya | S2E9 + Dead Apple ↳ C O R R U P T I O N

“Grantors of dark disgrace, you need not wake me again.”

[thebrookesnook]

For The Tainted Sorrow

O Grantors of Dark Disgrace You need not wake me again ~Nakahara Chuuya, Songs of Bygone Days

[arahabakix]

chuuya for the ask game!

erica!!! i hope you’re having a nice day (*≧︶≦))(￣▽￣* )ゞ

do I like them: yes yes i love chuuya!!! he’s right behind dazai, and akutagawa in my list of fave characters from bsd

5 good qualities: his height, his ability, his taste in wine, his fashion sense, and his impressionss

3 bad qualities: his hats??? cant think of any i love chuuya a bit too muc,,, he he (￣y▽,￣)╭ 

favourite episode/etc: oooh man i love all the scenes where he’s fighting??? but ngl dead apple went all out with animating chuuuya i love him goddamitt especially the gloves sceneee

otp: soukoku!!! i never saw their appeal at first, but once i did, i can get why people like them so much,,, also they’re the epitome of the enemies to lovers trope so that’s a plus

brotp: chuuya and kouyou,,, i love their dynamic so much,,, so precious 

ot3: i don’t particularly have any???

notp: same as above,, mostly cause i never gave it much thought? 

best quote: ooh ohh idk if it’s a quote but when chuuya says, “o grantors of dark disgrace, you need not wake me again” i go gerall

head canon: i feel like he’d like baudelaire a lot? idk why just seems like something he’d be into 

give me a character and i’ll answer

[catclyssm]

tag dump.

(𝙞𝙣 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧.) real gods require blood. (𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙪𝙙𝙮.) o' grantors of dark disgrace - you need not wake me again. (𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚.) upon the tainted sorrow. (𝙢𝙖𝙛𝙞𝙖 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚.) we were never made to be holy. (𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚.) my kind of rebirth tastes like blood. (𝙢𝙖𝙛𝙞𝙖 𝙗𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚.) hell is just another place i'd go to keep you warm. (𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚.) a shard of god in my mouth. (𝙖𝙙𝙖 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚.) i want to look back and say that i was alive. (𝙨𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚.) and when i turned to face grief? i saw it was just love in a heavy coat. (𝙝𝙨𝙧 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚.) this is not your destruction. this is your birth.

(𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙜𝙡𝙨 / 𝙙𝙖𝙯𝙖𝙞 𝙤𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙪.) you are allowed. to count the constellations in his eyes as they blink out.

[whatnameshallitake]

It is, once again, raining bullets down on them.

Not that they care much, it comes with the job description after all. Everyday, he hears the relentless sound of gunfire and the silent screams of the dying and they haunt Chuuya even in his sleep, but over time he learns to tune them out. He smells the stench of steel and blood and smoke to the point where he has no choice but to proudly wear it like a perfume, clinging to him like the death and destruction that he is born of.

Chuuya’s life is riddled with blood, and he is no stranger to battle. However, this madness is something else entirely. It is not just the bloodlust and the blood lost he has come to know through out the years, no. This strife that rippled across the nation and trickled down to the last man spares no one— it takes and it takes and it takes just as aggressively as the shots fired upon them and for once, the god inside him wishes they would just stop.

It is better than when it rains bodies.

The god inside him disagrees.

Beside him, his own personal demon laughs at the look of absolute misery on his face, “Too loud even for you, chibi?” He asks impertinently.

He grumbles and goes back to the matter at hand, which is this:

Soukoku has been revived— as is usual, honestly why did he ever think it would only be a one time thing?— and has been tasked to clear out the area and level the playing field for the final showdown. Their whole plan rests on this mission, meaning one small misstep can ruin the entirety of the city they sought to protect. Chuuya would very much like to say that he is tired and bored of these life-threatening and overtly important missions, but he can’t deny that he has missed the feeling of working together with his traitor of a partner.

It is very ironic that he feels the most alive, the safest, with the only man who has the simple choice of just leaving him to die.

He doesn’t say it out loud, doesn’t spell it out for Dazai because he knows the bastard already knows since he is annoying like that. Tch.

“This doesn’t even compare to your whining ass, you bandage wasting trash.” He chooses to reply, and it is so true. Dazai whines like no tomorrow, acting like fucking kid that he is and it grates on Chuuya’s nerves even more every time he does.

“I bet you love this whining ass.”

“You shut the fuck up.”

Dazai grins brightly at that, and Chuuya curses.

They wait for the signal to strike, ears peeled for the order to let loose and run wild and Chuuya feels his blood boiling in anticipation. He tightens his hands and tries to control the eagerness beneath his skin to wreak havoc and go crazy.

He feels skin touch his, and although Dazai’s ability doesn’t work at the moment he feels “No Longer Human” take ahold of him and calm Arahabaki waiting to break free and taste blood.

He takes a look at his partner— ex-partner... does it really matter now?— and hears the gears turning in his annoying head, “Stop overthinking.” Chuuya says.

The man-child just pouts, but Chuuya can tell he wants to say something. Bastard.

“Slug—“ “Just spit it out already we don’t have time for this.”

“Then I guess you would just have to make time to hear me out later then?” The annoying grin is back on his face, the ghost of hope and something else draws Chuuya in and it makes him scoff at himself for being weak at a time like this.

“You bastard! You can’t just make me say promises you know I can’t keep...”

And they both know it. They both know this but still, Dazai has the gall to make him.

It hurts.

“I know, chibi, but you have to. Okay? Promise you’ll make time.”

Chuuya is at a stand-still, not at the fact that Dazai is once again coercing him into something downright bonkers and impossible (The voice in the back of his mind— Arahabaki? Ane-san from wherever she is?— tells him that their whole brand is about the impossible and he agrees whole-heartedly), but at the fact that he won’t have the time to give after this. He is not a liar like his partner, because he knows that the only thing that follows is nothing and is that not just so poetic?

Even so, he can’t find it in himself to say no. Like he said, weak.

“Then you’re just gonna have to find me afterwards, won’t you?”

Dazai’s eyes lighten up at his proposal, and it seems to Chuuya that he got the mackerel hook, line, and sinker.

“Of course~ But wouldn’t it be hard with the chibi’s height?”

Chuuya is weak in the face of one Dazai Osamu. Chuuya is no longer the god in face of the only demon who dares worship and call him his own. He doesn’t mind it in the slightest.

“You basta—“

Static cuts Chuuya off, and the voice of Ango cuts through, “Soukoku, in position?”

“Since 20 minutes ago.”

“Proceed.”

And like that, the effect of “No Longer Human” ceases to exist against the cage of Arahabaki he likes to call his flesh and bone.

“See you on the other side.”

Because his partner never leaves him to die. Never lets him succumb to the first sign of humanity that has stuck to him since creation— death— and it is only fair that he doesn’t let the other do so as well.

Dazai has only ever left him once. It is not to die, but to live and it is the most hurtful thing he has ever felt to this day. And as he whispers, “O’ Grantors of Dark Disgrace, You Need Not Wake Me Again”, even the feeling of Corruption stands no chance against that.

There are no guarantees, only the promise of time and meeting after whatever comes next and Chuuya really doesn’t mind. He is weak in front of Dazai, and vice versa. And he doesn’t doubt that the man will go as far as to burn down everything just to get that time he was promised.

He is a demon, and Chuuya is the god willing to follow him down wherever. Chuuya is a god, and Dazai is the demon stumbling down with him into this chaos. Always.

Even death does not part. Which is annoying sometimes, but Chuuya doesn’t really mind.

And Chuuya knows this will not be the last of their revivals.

-

@alexprompts Hello~ This is me writing about my otp and it’s cringe but i love them thank you the prompt suits them so much!

[bs-dogs]

I don’t know what would hurt more,

Chuuya dying first—

Tension fills the room as everyone grabs onto their sit and waits on with bated breath. At first glance, one might have mistaken the group for statues if it were not for the entirely human expressions their faces all display.

Fear. Desperation. Resignation.

There is no more hope.

A voice breaks through the pressure, accompanied by static and something else entirely foreign to the remaining members of the ADA.

“I don’t think I can make it.”

The man is breathing heavily through his mic, grunting in pain every once in a while.

“Nakahara-san, there is a door in the next hallway to your left. You can go the third route and the extraction team will pick you up at the rendezvous point.” Kunikida replies, signalling for Junichirou to alert their dispatch about the change in plans.

They need to be quick about this, their target is situated in the next room and it will only take a few seconds to exfiltrate him from his guards. The problem wholly lies on the fact that someone tipped off their plans to the opponent and now they have a messy situation and a rat amidst them.

“I mean it, Kunikida-san. I am going to do something, so make sure the extraction team can reach him in time. The area will be cleared out in seconds and the two of them can get the shithead out safely.”

Kunikida manages not to stiffen at the man’s statement, “Then we will be sending assist so please wait. No one can stop you if you—“

“We don’t have time.” Chuuya cuts him off, filled with finality and desperation, “It doesn’t matter now. Just tell him...”

“Nakahara-san please don’t—“

“Tell the mackerel not to follow too soon, okay?”

...

“O’ grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again.”

...

The speaker booms as an animalistic growl filters through the air and Kunikida scowls in defeat. Absolute carnage rings, the only thing they can do now is send out orders to Atsushi and Akutagawa to be ready once they send out the signal.

The mission is a success, and they deliver the message to an empty-looking Dazai. His reply?

He smiles and says, “Chibi is so selfish.”

—Or Dazai dying first.

Wind beats at the skin he once struggled to call his. The question of humanity once again flies to the tip of his tongue but dies at the scene:

A corpse lying on the floor with a knife protruding through the chest, the hand holding onto it extending into an arm which disappears beneath an ugly coat.

He wonders why he suddenly feels very cold and empty. He wonders why, after so many years of searching for proof that he is indeed not the monster he is painted to be, does he only feel the same absence of living now.

Deep down, he knows the answer.

“Oh! Finally, the performer for our final act has arrived!” Fyodor opens his vile mouth and sends the most disgusting smirk known to mankind, “Our most esteemed critic has told me all about you.”

“Too bad he won’t be able to see his beloved god dance for the last time.”

His blood boils beneath his fingertips and it is the first sign in what seems like forever that he can actually feel anything aside from the chilling fury and the void that leaves a gaping hole in his chest.

Readying himself into a relaxed stance, he removes his hat and casts it aside. He eyes the corpse for the last time, lingering slightly on the small smile that plays on the quickly paling lips.

‘You died because you trusted me? How sad.’

He calls out with his voice for the last time, “Please do enjoy the show, you asshole.” The man only smiles sweetly at him.

The next voice that calls out is not him anymore.

Perhaps if they both die together? But wouldn’t that be too fulfilling?

A lover’s suicide.

It’s something he has always sang and waxed poetry about. There is some truth to his sentiments of wanting a lover’s suicide with a beautiful maiden. Indeed, it is very idyllic and romantic.

The problem is in the maiden itself.

According to fairytales and whatnot, maiden’s are the absolute picture of grace and beauty. They are demure, soft-spoken, fragile beyond belief.

Once again, life is cheating him by making him do a lover’s suicide with a sheepdog of all things. But no one really hears him complaining.

Truth be told, not even Dazai can reject the fact that his dog is a person of grace and beauty. He is also a brute, and not even a maiden if you consider all the important parts and bits needed to be considered a maiden, in all biological sense of the word. His dog is not at all demure, will never be soft-spoken, and is the complete opposite of fragile.

Gods are not fragile. His god is not fragile.

Perhaps there is something mystifying and romantic about demons and gods falling apart at each other’s feet.

Striking blue eyes stare at him, fingers entangled with his and it finally dawns on him that this is the first time he’s holding Chuuya’s hands in a long time. He’s missed the feeling.

“I guess it’s time for the plan.” Chuuya smirks at him, voice wild and free. It’s exhilarating to hear him so. It makes Dazai feel powerful despite actually being powerless in front of the man— because who else has the privilege to hold not only the hand of such a glorious being, but also his life? And for it to be so willingly given to him too.

One would think that the moments before one’s death would be filled with fear and trepidation.

Not them. Never them.

Why?

They only ever feel alive when near death, after all. They are only ever near death when with each other, after all.

They only ever feel alive when with each other, after all.

“It is time for Double Black to be reborn.”

“Not for the last time, you fuck.”

“Of course, chibi. Never. I hope you grow taller~”

“And I hope I never see your disgusting face ever again.”

It is the only lie said that night, for they say nothing more.

Actions speak louder than words, as the saying goes.

...

“So you were saying the truth.”

“Of course! I know it sounded so suspicious but I swear they died like this and—“

“I believe you, jinko, so just shut up.”

“I guess that Dazai did get his lover’s suicide in the end, huh? And in such a disgustingly sweet position too.”

“What do we do now?”

“Yokohama is safe. Why don’t we get drunk and celebrate the fact that everyone got what they wanted in the end?”

“Except the rats.”

“Fuck the rats.”

Notes: I am procrastinating writing by writing. What a time to be alive. Hope you enjoyed this clusterfuck of an angsty mess that has been haunting me for 3 nights now gnight lmao

[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