#oda you were cruel to us all

[kuroashims]

Just rewatched Marine Ford. I am a weepy watery mess right now. How could you Oda, how could you

[tirasamu]

01. CRUEL BEYOND MY YEARS . . . you do the impossibleー you make dazai feel. that's why you're his, even if neither of you know it yet.

ft. pm!dazai + pm!reader, possessive behavior, descriptions of depression, oda, ango, and chuuya are there too, 2.4k w.c.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Dazai knows he’s supposed to be in a meeting right now.

He yawns, hands behind his head in a makeshift pillow, overgrown legs hanging off the arm of the couch as he stretches out. The heels of his shoes graze his jacket, haphazardly tossed aside when he first came into his office and laid down.

Even with the sleep mask covering his face, blocking out the sun that pools into the top floors of the Port Mafia’s Headquarters, he knows it’s you who’s approaching his door.

He fights back a smile, something he rarely has the opportunity to do. He keeps his breathing steady and deep as he hears the familiar rhythm of your knuckles against his office door, knocking in a code. You both came up with it when you were younger, freshly sixteen against the hollow walls of his shipping container; your own shared secret. He hears the gentle creak of the old wood as you peek inside.

“Dazai?” he hears the soft sound of your footsteps as you come closer, then a sigh he’d recognize anywhere.  “Dazai. Take that thing off. It’s creepy.”

He remains still. He’s supposed to be asleep, after all.

“I see Mr. Executive is as busy as always,” you say sarcastically, but he can still hear the smile in your voice. You slip your thumb under the soft cotton padding of the sleep mask and slide it up his face, pushing his bangs back. The soft glide of your skin against his forehead leaves tingles in its wake, and it’s easy enough to ignore the burn of his one visible eye adjusting to the bright afternoon light when you’re hovering over him like an angel. “Don’t you want to say goodbye to me?”

A new mission. He sighs exhaustedly, as if was the one who was assigned. “How long will you be gone this time?”

“Not long, probably,” your hip presses against his as you sit on the edge of the couch. You rest your cheek on your hand, arm bridged over his stomach as your elbow props on the backrest. “Chuuya got assigned to it with me. Him and I make a good team.”

“You shouldn’t hang around him so much,” he tilts his head back. “You should be careful. He eats dog food, you know. He really is a dog, isn’t he?”

“Shut up,” you laugh, and the sound makes his heartbeat quicken without his permission. “I know that isn’t true.”

“It is!” he sits up on his elbows so he can meet your eyes, his own shimmering with mirth. “I even saw him do it. You trust me, don’t you?”

You flick his forehead, giggling as you stand back up and straighten your skirt. “You’re just jealous you don’t get to come on this mission with us.”

With us? Dazai swears he could be sick and die right there on the couch, as if there even was a ‘you and Chuuya’. The thought alone makes him nearly double over in pain. If anything, it should be him you were paired up with, and if you asked for his opinion, it was a joke that you weren’t by defaultー even if little assignments like this were below him now that he’s an executive. No one else knew you as well as he did, and no one else ever would; besides, he’d known you longer than that stupid slug. Mori's negligence on the matter makes his stomach churn and his skin prickle uncomfortably.

“Hey,” he grabs onto your jacket sleeve, where the cuffs are still a little too long and the fabric hangs over your wrists, before you can walk away. “Be careful.”

You smile at him brightly, giving him a thumbs up, but it barely fazes him. He watches you leave, gaze dark and mouth firm. Something bitter starts to crawl up his stomach, growing in his chest like thorned vines intertwining and tightening around his ribs.

When Mori first introduced you and Dazai to one another, you were both fourteen years old. The first thing he noticed when he saw you was that your clothing was too big, hanging awkwardly off your body. You’ve both grown since then, nearly identical black jackets and ties over white button-downs adorning your frames. The second thing he noticed was that you were different from him; he could tell from your eyes, bright and glistening.

He can't remember a time when he wasn’t burdened by the feeling of looking through a window, always a spectator. You were different; you had a seat at the table. Every bomb placed, every trigger pulledー you were there with him through it all, with the same fucked up feeling of adrenaline pounding through your veins, except you were attached to the world around you. You saw meaning in it somehow.

He wants to pick you apart piece by piece and study you under a microscope. He wants to understand just what it is about you that makes you so intriguing. What do you know that he doesn’t?

How are you so good at making him feel like this ?

He thinks about you on your mission, even when he tries not to. He flips through his paperwork lazily, pulling sheets from their stapled packets and folding them into origami shapes. He stares at his finger when he gets a paper cut on the edge of a report about some dispute in Kyoto, watching the blood dribble down his skin in small beads. He raids the infirmary for chemicals, slipping past the nurses and picking the lock to the medicine cabinet, pocketing bottles and extra rolls of bandages. He plays on his handheld console, sighing in frustration when his character dies again; if only it was so easy.

It's nearing the latest hours of the night when he decides to sneak into your office that he finds you again, back from your mission and chatting with Chuuya, whose arms are crossed as he leans against the edge of your desk. Dazai skims his eyes over you, noting with satisfaction that there seem to be no new visible injuries on you. He relishes in how Chuuya’s brows furrow when he sees him, and how yours rise in delight, Cheeks rounding in a smile. He throws his arms around your shoulders, your faces close enough for him to count your eyelashes as you tilt your head back to look at him.

“I hope you didn’t have too much fun without me,” he pouts, squeezing you against his chest. “Did you keep Chuuya on his leash during your mission?”

“Don’t talk about me like I'm not here, idiot.”

“Oh, there you are,” he eyes the aforementioned man lazily, as if he were a bug that landed near him. “I almost missed you because you’re so small.”

“I fell asleep right after we were done,” you giggle. “Chuuya had to carry me back.”

“Oh?” he tightens his arms. Dazai always thought you were the cutest post-mission, all sleepy and touchy; he always made sure he was around for those moments. “Did he?”

You’re talking, something else about the mission, but he doesn’t listen. Chuuya looks from you to him when he feels his gaze, eyebrow raising in a silent question. They screw up in irritation when dazai’s eyes narrow as his lips curl up into a cruel grin. He cranes his neck down, nose grazing your temple before he drags his tongue across your cheek.

“Ew, Dazai!” you try to shove him away, but he doesn’t go far, still clinging to you tightly. “What the hell? You’re so gross!”

He laughs in your ear, even as you try to pry his hands off his shoulders. You twist your hand around his wrist, tugging on it and glaring at him over your shoulder.

“Let go, Dazai.”

You’ve only ever looked at him like this when he woke you up in the middle of the night, knocking over one of your chairs after he broke into your apartment; you weren’t able to fall back asleep for hours, and when you finally woke up the next day, you realized he ate the last of the mapo tofu in your fridge.

He loosens his arms, stumbling when you shove him. The feeling of your hands pushing him away is nowhere near as warm as when you brushed his hair back earlier that day. There's no pretty, warm smile dimpling your cheeks either; just the dark wood of your office door grazing his nose, the sound of it slamming shut, and Chuuya’s annoyed glare still prickling his skin. 

His chest tightens. 

The flickering light of Bar Lupin’s sign penetrates the foggy night air, like a lighthouse calling lost ships home. Ango and Oda are already inside when Dazai arrives. A cigarette dribbles loose curls of smoke into the air as Ango cradles his glass between his palms and Oda tilts his head back to sip his whiskey. The bar’s most devoted patron hops from Dazai’s seat knowingly, landing on his little white paws as Dazai sits down on the stool with a huff.

He rests his chin against his forearm, sighing into his elbow as the bartender places his usual in front of him wordlessly. The two older men look at the pouty pile of messy hair between them. Oda knows he’s waiting for one of them to ask, so he does. 

“Did something happen today, Dazai?”

“Yes,” he bounces the sphere of ice against the bottom of the glass, feeling his fingertip go numb. “She’s mad at me.”

“What did you do now?” Ango eyes him wearily from behind his glasses.

“How rude,” he says flatly, his voice sounding hollow without his usual playfulness. “Immediately assuming I’m at fault.”

“Aren’t you always?” he sighs into the rim of his glass, taking a long sip.

They both wait in silence before Dazai shoots up in his seat, his stool spinning slightly.

“How can that stupid slug touch what’s mine?”

“'Yours’?” Ango asks, a thin eyebrow raised. “People don’t own other people.”

“I didn't know you two were dating,” Oda says.

“We’re not,” Dazai sags back down, folding his arms and laying his head down so his eyes are level with his glass again. “That's gross.”

“You’re not?” Oda repeats. “…Then why are you upset?”

He feels the bandages around his eyes loosen as he turns his head away, squishing his cheek into his elbow. The cat licks his paws across the bar, before reaching up and rubbing his little face. He catches dazai’s gaze, looking at him with round, unblinking eyes.

His chest tightens again.

The sun is rising, melting the black of the night sky to gold when Dazai arrives at your apartment. His hand freezes inside his pocket, fingers wrapped around his lock pick, glancing back to your door. He lets it go and knocks instead, beating his knuckles against the wood in your secret code.

You’re in your pajamas when you open the door, and he notices the bruise on your leg that was hidden under your work uniform. He looks at you like a lost puppy; ears down, eyes big, with his nonexistent tail between his legs.

“Hey,” your eyes dart along his body, and he knows you’re scanning him for injuries too. “You okay?”

He doesn’t reply, and you let him meekly slip past you into your apartment. Your blanket is pooled on the floor from where you were sitting at your coffee table, chopsticks and a bowl of stir fry waiting for you; the schedule of a mafiosa has your circadian rhythm flipped, eating dinner as the sun rises.

“Did you eat anything yet?” you ask him, sitting back on the ground.

His big brown eyes blink down at you in a silent answer.

You open the side of your blanket expectantly, scooting over to make space for him. You nudge your food between the two of you when he sits beside you. His stomach flutters as he thinks about you feeding him from your chopsticks, a hand cupped under his chin, your soft thumb brushing his lips as you wipe them clean. He ignores it, plucking a shrimp out of your bowl with his fingers instead.

“You can have the rest,” you bundle the blanket a little tighter around your shoulders, sighing softly as you lay your head down on his shoulder. “I made extra. I knew you’d come over.”

“You did?”

“Mhm,” you rub your thumb along the edge of his bandages where his palm and wrist meet absentmindedly. “I know you.”

You do, scarily so. You like your stir fry spicy, but you kept it mild for him. because you knew he’d come over. Because you knew he wouldn’t have eaten otherwise. Because he only ever gets a home-cooked meal when you make one for him.

“‘m sorry,” he mumbles, voice barely audible.

You tilt your head up and look at him, eyes heavy. He holds his breath as you lift your hand and cup his cheek, tracing the dark circle under his one visible eye with the pad of your thumb.

“Let’s go to bed,” your voice is soft in the way it always is when you’re tired. “We can still sleep a little before we have to go back to headquarters.”

He knows every inch of your apartment, but he still lets you guide him into the dark of your room, and he’s suddenly surrounded by everything that is so quintessentially you. He has it all committed to memory: the title of the book on your nightstand you swear you’ll finish, the delicate splay of jewelry on your dresser, the pajama shorts hanging over the side of your hamper in the corner.

You practically collapse, falling into your bed and splaying your limbs with a happy sigh while he carefully lies down, staring at the ceiling and keeping his hands to himself. It's after a few quiet moments when he feels something warm against him, and when he turns to look at you, his breath catches in his throat.

You’re so much closer to him than anyone else would ever dare to be. You curl towards him even in your sleep, like a sunflower growing towards the sun. Your arm reaches towards his, fingers loosely clinging to his sleeve, as if you wanted to keep him anchored to the bed with you. He could almost make himself believe you really wanted him there.

He watches the daylight fall over your face, just as delicate as the sheet you draped over your body, still thin enough to show off the contour of your legs. You look so relaxed, cheeks full of color with the shadow of your lashes resting against them.

You looked so alive. So human.

His chest tightens.

[kentopedia]

i miss when we first met

FEATURING. dazai osamu x f!reader & f!reader x chuuya nakahara — wc: 15.1k

SUMMARY: you'd always been in love with Dazai, but you started to doubt that he'd ever cared for you in return. chuuya, though, had never shown you anything but true affection.

CONTENTS: nsfw 18+ ONLY, pm!dazai, pm!reader, mostly dazai x reader but…, unhealthy relationship dynamics, voyeurism, cheating, manipulation, smut, degradation, guns, angst, dazai is very bad at expressing emotions, pet names, horrible communication, unrequited (?) love, the list goes on bc they’re in the port mafia just be warned

note: this took me like 4 months to finish & i am so so nervous to post it lmao. i wanted to write something different & this is very outside my comfort zone! :) but it's dazai's birthday so i figured i might as well share it today

You rolled onto your side away from Dazai, still breathing heavily as you came down from your high.

Beside you, he had shifted onto his forearms, moving up against the headboards to sit up straight. The covers fell off of him, revealing the marks that you’d left all over his body, the scars from a life lived in the mafia.

Under the red silk sheets, you were silent, your head settling into the pillow as you stared at him.

He’d deny it, but he was beautiful, a tempting, alluring creature that you couldn’t get enough of.

But you also knew Lucifer had once been God’s most beautiful angel, and it only made sense that Dazai Osamu would hold the same kind of exquisiteness.

Dazai closed his eyes, rolled his neck as he leaned back, stretching out all of the stiff muscles. He didn’t touch you again, kept a distance as he wiped the sweat that had dried on his forehead, the fluids that had stained the sheets between you.

He used to talk to you, after something so intimate. Used to hold you in his arms and trace your skin with a gentleness you didn’t know he possessed. He hadn’t always been cruel when he fucked you, hadn’t always put his own needs before yours.

Of course, Dazai had never loved you. That was something you were certain of in your very core. But he’d held at least some shred of respect for you before becoming the head of the Port Mafia. Now, you didn’t think he saw you as anything more than a means to an end.

It didn’t matter, though. It didn’t matter that Dazai spoke to you minimally when you two weren’t alone, that everyone in the Port Mafia knew you were nothing more than the woman who slept in his bed.

It didn’t matter because you loved him. You’d stood by his side since the beginning, since he’d recruited Chuuya, since he’d lost Oda.

Since he’d killed Mori.

You’d been with him through all of it, seen every horrid side to him, and you’d never once wanted to escape. Dazai had his claws in you, and he had them in deep. The thought of being anywhere but with him had never crossed your mind.

“Akutagawa told me what happened yesterday.”

You blinked, snapping out of your haze as Dazai regarded you with cool, condescending eyes. He was peering at you from over his shoulder, picking his dark button-up off the floor. The skin on his back was red from scratches, the lines dragging through his taut skin.

“Did he?” you said, looking down at your nails. You hadn’t expected anything less. Akutagawa did everything in his power to get exaltation from Dazai. “I’m sure his report was thorough.”

Dazai’s jaw clenched. His eyes narrowed, a darkened tint flashing in them. “That’s all you have to say?”

His voice was unamused, icy, and it reminded you that no matter how many times you crawled into his bed, let him use you however he wanted, he was still your boss. He was Dazai Osamu, the man whom everyone in Yokohama feared.

You swallowed. “I’m sorry.” Your gaze twisted away from him, unable to meet his hardened expression completely. “I was distracted. It was my fault entirely.”

Dazai made a noise in the back of his throat as he moved out of the bed. He sauntered across the room, so quietly and cat-like, and you buried yourself deeper into the mattress, wanting to sink into it completely.

“You’re lucky, then, that Akutagawa was able to deflect the bullets.” He began replacing the bandages that had slipped off of his face, covering his cheek with disgust.

He let you see him completely when it was just the two of you. It took every ounce of your self-control not to read into that, to wonder if it was just a habit leftover from when you were younger.

“I am lucky.”

Truthfully, you’d only hesitated for half of a second, momentarily lost in your own loop of suffering, and your opponent had gotten an edge on you. They’d shot at you, then the bomb, nearly prematurely blowing up the building.

“After decades of work, I would’ve thought you’d know better by now.” Dazai sighed wearily, like your presence irritated him. It probably did. “I’ll consider moving you. I’m sure there’s a place for you where you can’t get yourself killed if you fuck up.”

“Dazai—” you swallowed, a horrid tasting stinging your mouth as you remembered your time with him had come to an end. He was back to being Mori’s underling, the man who looked at the city like it was nothing but a chessboard. “Boss,” you remedied quickly, all too used to addressing him differently. It was difficult, sometimes, to recognize where Dazai began, and the Port Mafia’s boss ended. “It was a stupid error. In all the time you’ve known me, have I ever done something like that before?”

Dazai hesitated momentarily, before tensing his shoulders. He didn’t answer your question. “Don’t let it happen again.” A warning was in his eyes when they met yours through the mirror. “I don’t have the patience to find a replacement for you, and Akutagawa’s too valuable an asset to lose to a seasoned professional’s careless mistake.”

You exhaled, looking back down at your hands. The ones that had already been stained in so much blood, wrought with crime and bad intent. “Understood.”

You finally climbed out of the bed, missing the warmth that it gave you, even though Dazai’s cold body always sucked it away. He laid so stiffly next to you most of the time. You remembered when he used to sleep with his forehead pressed to the back of your neck.

As you dressed, Dazai kept his eyes on his work, never paying you any attention. You felt discarded, useless, and you wanted to hate him, wanted to hate yourself for longing to wrap your arms around him, hug him from behind.

“I’ll send you with Chuuya tomorrow,” he said, scanning reports and assignments that he’d thrown aside lazily last night. “An easy assignment outside of Yokohama. Think you can manage that?”

“Just give me the job.” You snatched the paper out of Dazai’s hand, and he didn’t say a word, only watched as you perused it. It was, really, the simplest task he’d given you in the past few weeks. You’d felt like he’d been overworking you just to avoid you. “Fine. I’ll take it.”

Dazai’s smile widened, sinister, and wicked. He brushed his hand delicately over your shoulder, against your neck before patting you on the head. “I trust you won’t let me down.”

Going against every sensible atom in your being, you smiled wearily. His minimal display of affection warmed you, a deep pang settling in your soul. “Have I ever?”

“No.” He held a sort of awed fascination, twisting a part of your hair between his fingers. “How lucky someone must be to be my greatest enemy. To get the kiss of death from an angel is not such a bad way to die.”

He held your cheek in his delicate fingers, and you were putty in his hands, wishing that his eyes would soften, even by a fraction. That his hand would cup around his cheek like he meant it.

Instead, he pulled away, and you felt cold, cold, cold, drowning in your own emptiness.

You scoffed, trying to regain some power in the situation. “I’m no angel.”

“Hm,” Dazai hummed, dropping his head in his hands, resuming a spot behind the desk, the deep red chair much too similar to the one in his office, the one that Mori had inherited from the previous boss. “Perhaps not to others.”

And you grew hot, feeling that, maybe, Dazai was giving you a compliment.

It was at times like these that you saw the semblance of your previous relationship. When you could tease him without feeling the weight of his superior rank looming over you. When you could kiss him without tasting venom. When you didn’t have to wonder if it would be appropriate to touch him, or if you should keep your distance.

You wanted to quit him. Really, you did.

He was a horrible, loathsome person.

You’d never be able to stop loving him.

“I could never be any sort of heavenly creature, Dazai. My spot in hell was sealed the moment I sided with the Devil.”

Dazai laughed, the sound raw and dry, so humorless. “I hope you don’t mean me. Flattery will get you nowhere,” he tsked, the tip of his tongue scratching against the back of his white teeth.  

You certainly hadn’t meant that as a compliment.

“Should I say goodbye before I leave?” you asked wryly, doubting that he’d even want to see you again. His image burned against the back of your eyelids, and you drank him in, hoping that when you died, his face would be the last thing you saw.

Dazai didn’t grace you with a simple yes or no. Instead, he glanced up briefly, his one eye exposed, mere centimeters of skin uncovered. “Goodbye.”

You nodded; lips pressed tightly together as you accepted the dismissal. With a sigh, you were out of the room, wondering why you hadn’t just showered before you left. Most of your clothes were in Dazai’s closet anyway.

You didn’t see him again before you left.

The assignment Dazai had given you was a few cities over, a task of infiltrating an enemy organization who’d gotten a little too close to the Mafia’s boundaries. It was simple enough, especially with Chuuya at your side, though the whole ordeal had you away from home for a weekend, and far too much time with your own thoughts.

Dazai had set the two of you up in a suite, one with two separate bedrooms and a shared living space. It was much more luxurious than you even needed, with a view overlooking the entire city and an extensive bar in the kitchen. The furniture was a deep, black leather, every accent dark in color.

It was conspicuous, but you’d grown too used to extravagance after being with Dazai. You allowed yourself to indulge in it.

A silly notion, really; the place you slept every night was much more lavish.

You scrubbed the blood off your face, your hands, and stared at yourself in the mirror without recognizing the person before you. The water at the bottom of the shower was a macabre shade, staining the tiles as it swirled down the drain.

Shivering, you tried to reconcile all of the things you’d done, shelve them away before you could wonder if all of it was really worth it. If Dazai was really worth it.

When you finally emerged from the bathroom, your skin rubbed raw, Chuuya was sitting at the bar, a freshly cracked bottle of wine before him. His back was tense, muscles strained as he regarded you with weary eyes, the darker shade under them obvious and alarming.

“Took you long enough,” Chuuya snorted, pouring himself a glass. The bottle was aged and dark, the label faded. He must have brought it along with him; it certainly hadn’t come from the hotel. “I was getting bored.”

You made a face, taking the seat beside him. “Well, there was a lot of blood.” You reached over to snatch the bottle, pressing it to your lips before he could protest.

“Help yourself, then,” His expression was sour, but his acerbic tone held a hint of amusement. “Do you know how expensive that is?”

“No.” You shrugged, taking a sip. Money had stopped meaning anything to you a long time ago. “Should I care?” The liquid warmed your throat on the way down.

“Probably not. You’ve surely got enough cash behind you to buy me another one.”

“Right.” You snorted and wondered how much of that stuff you’d have to drink before you’d stop feeling a thing. Thoughts of the crumbling bond that you and Dazai shared wouldn’t leave you alone. “And you don’t?”

Chuuya laughed, twirling the glass in his gloved hand. There was a hardened edge to him that you didn’t like. Opposed to Dazai, Chuuya had always been much more open with you, more willing to share his thoughts. “Well, we can’t all be Dazai’s favorite. You’ve got the keys to the kingdom, my dear. Whatever belongs to the Mafia belongs to you too.”

“Favorite?” You spat out the word, darkening at the mention of Dazai, the man who never seemed to leave your brain. It was always Dazai, Dazai, Dazai. The youngest executive there had ever been, the one who’d become the head of the Port Mafia just a few years later.

You hated him. Wished you could burn the memory of that haunted man entirely.

“Hm?” Chuuya leaned forward like he hadn’t heard you.

A bitter flavor blossomed on your tongue when you thought of saying his name out loud. “I don’t want to talk about Dazai right now.”

You brought the bottle to your lips again; it was starting to feel lighter.

“Why?” Chuuya’s eyes dimmed as he stared at you, looking for something hidden in your irises. A secret that wouldn’t be there. You’d always been too easy to read. “Did something happen?”

“I said I don’t want to talk about Dazai, and you immediately think something’s wrong?”

He blinked. Hesitated. “Well, I spent my teenage years listening to you talk about him like a lovesick fool. The subsequent years watching him stare at you in the same way.” He took the bottle away from you, tipping his head back. “Something must be wrong.”

You felt a flush at your neck, the skin itching with sweat. It was cruel of Chuuya to allude to any emotions from Dazai, when you knew they weren’t there. “That’s not true.”

Chuuya sighed. “Isn’t it?”

Although his temper had always been much worse than yours, you felt the same sort of anger claw at your back. The urge to scream at him became almost insuppressible. “Dazai doesn’t care about me like that.” You flopped down on the bar, alcohol fuzzing the edges of your senses. It felt nice, warm.

Maybe being away from the Port Mafia was better for you than you thought.

“Don’t be stupid.” Chuuya’s eyes had narrowed when your head fell forward, his fist clenching around the bottle.

“Stupid?” You immediately sat up, blood rushing straight to your head. Who was Chuuya to come and tell you everything he thought he knew? It was laughable, really. “He doesn’t care, and I think I’d know. Fuck you, Chuuya.”

You slammed your fist down on the table, hurt. You didn’t understand why Chuuya would side with Dazai when he knew how much the situation troubled you. How often had you bared your soul to him, told him how Dazai’s aloofness had hurt you over and over again?

His eyes softened, an apology immediately leaving his lips. “I’m sorry—”

“Are you?” The words were vehement. Chuuya was shamelessly against your relationship with Dazai, always coming up with one reason or another to get you out of it. Now, it seemed, he was trying to defend it. “Dazai cares or he doesn’t. You can’t keep changing your mind based on the situation.”

“Dazai does care.” Chuuya said the words like they pained him to leave his mouth, each one dragging a dagger against his chin. “You think he’d keep you around if he didn’t?”

You did. You knew that you had use outside of Dazai’s feelings, just like Chuuya, just like Akutagawa. Just like every menial grunt who had a shred of value for the Mafia.

“He cares that I have value to him.” A sigh left your lips, and you sunk your chin onto your palm, feeling like nothing more than the dramatic woman in a Shakesperian tragedy. Really, you couldn’t remember when you’d become so pathetic. “What will become of me when I can’t sink a bullet into the skull of his enemies anymore?”

Chuuya frowned, the wrinkles deepening on his forehead. “No one can predict what Dazai will do.” He let you steal his half-full glass of wine, keeping the bottle safely tucked away from you. “Would it make much difference to you if we could?”

“I suppose not.” You’d grown tired, the subtle buzz of alcohol coming in quick on your empty stomach. “Nothing matters much anymore. I’ll never leave the Port Mafia.” Saying the words out loud made it more real than you’d intended, even though it was a fact that had sunk deep into your bones the day you’d met the dark-haired, suicidal bastard. “Why do I have to love him, Chuuya? Why can’t I love a good man?”

You thought, why can’t I love you instead, and left it unsaid. The words might have been too cruel. You knew the pain of unrequited emotions.

“Because you’re in the Port Mafia. Good men would know to stay away.” Chuuya drummed his fingers against the countertop before reaching out, contemplative. Though you remained unmoving in your seat, his hand still retracted before he touched you, as if burned. There was caution in his movements, every action calculated—Chuuya was usually the opposite, as intelligent as he was. “Besides. You’ve never tried to let Dazai go. You don’t want to.”

“I want to,” you said defensively, though even to your own ears, the statement was weak. Dazai was an addiction, and you’d go back to him time and time again. Even when, sometimes, you weren’t so sure there was anything good about him. “I just don’t know how. What would I do out there in the world without Dazai?” You laughed, amused. A normal life didn’t seem possible—you’d have no idea where to start.

Chuuya’s face pinched in disgust. “Take over the Port Mafia. Kill him and run it yourself.” He huffed, running a hand over his eyes, exhausted. “There’s a solution. If you really want to get rid of him.”

You blinked back at him. A moment passed; you’d forgotten he was looking for a response.

“I suspected as much.” His shoulders slumped, defeated, as you drew back in shame. “How long will you talk yourself into this endless cycle of torment? Dazai isn’t the same man that you fell in love with, and he never will be again.” He met your eyes, cold and guarded. “There’s nothing to be done about that. If you want Dazai so badly, put up with every single part of him. I’m tired of listening to the same grievances, time and time again.” 

Chuuya made to stand, but you stopped him, grabbing his wrist lightly. He glared at you from over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you said, trying to convey your apology sincerely. “You’re completely right. I’ve never tried to let Dazai go, and maybe I can.”

You didn’t give Chuuya time to formulate a response. Before he could understand what was happening, you leaned forward, catching him off guard, and planted your lips on his.

For one singular moment, Chuuya had kissed you back, tasting your mouth in its entirety, before he shoved you away, scrubbing his skin like he’d been burned.

“Don’t do that.” He had a hand in your face, scolding you like a child. “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

You stared at him; his dark eyes were full of an emotion you had never seen before. “Why not? You said I should try to let him go.”

“Not by kissing me, fucking hell.” Chuuya hissed, his voice just above a whisper like someone else was listening in. Something vile had been unleashed in him as he gesticulated around wildly. “You’re Dazai’s.” He scoffed. “Do you think any smart man would do anything with you, knowing you sleep in that monster’s bed every night?”

You sniffed, sticking your jaw out. Maybe, you’d been wrong all this time. Chuuya was like everyone else, wasn’t he? Holding you at a distance because you cared for the wrong person.

“I’m not leaving the Mafia. I’m not leaving Dazai.” You reached across the table, grabbing one of his cold hands. “I just want to be someone else for once. To know what it’s like for someone to care about me so completely.”

“It’s not going to be with me.” Chuuya yanked his hand away, laughing mirthlessly. “I never thought you’d try to manipulate me like this. “You’ve been spending too much time with him.”

Your eyes flashed, infuriated. Chuuya looked at you with some kind of betrayal, like he wasn’t the exact same way, like he wasn’t the same kind of vile person that you were. “I know you’re in love with me, Chuuya. I know you’ve looked at me since we were sixteen years old, wished so badly I would look at you the same way.”

His jaw clenched, the anger giving way to something else. “Don’t start.”

“You’ve wanted me all this time, haven’t you?” It was a genuine question; one you’d always been too scared to voice. Chuuya was the only person you considered to be a friend and knowing that he felt that way about you would ruin your friendship completely.

Though you had one sip too much of alcohol running through your veins, and you’d spent two days wondering how you could stop feeling a single thing for Dazai. Rationality had left you entirely.

Chuuya was silent, still watching you with hesitance.

“You’re the only person in the Mafia who really cares about me, aren’t you?” you said, softer, wondering if you could lure him in. Spring him into a trap you’d both be certain to regret in the morning. “You’re the one who talks to me about everything, who watches out for my well-being. Who’s never looked at me like I was anything but the prettiest girl in the world.”

And though Chuuya still didn’t trust your actions, his eyes had softened just a hair, his body releasing the tension. “You are.”

You smiled, but his compliment made you feel nothing but guilt. “Then why won’t you let me kiss you, Chuuya?”

“Because.” He scraped a hand over his face, breathing heavily like it was taking every ounce of his willpower to resist you “Dazai will kill me, you understand? He’ll kill you.”

“Wouldn’t you at least like to know?” You invaded his personal space. Each word you spoke cracked him a little bit more. “I know you’ve imagined me spread out before you, entirely exposed to you. How I’d look with my hips arching off the bed, crying out your name—”

“Stop it.”

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You felt like you were losing your mind. Something had cracked in you, and you couldn’t come back from it. Things would never go back to the way they were after those careless words had been tossed into the world. “You’ve always wanted me, so why, when I’m giving myself to you completely, won’t you accept?”

Chuuya swallowed. His voice had grown thick with desire. He raked his eyes over you cautiously. “You’re asking a lot from me, baby.” He held your cheek, grazing the bone in the gentle way that Dazai had forgotten. “Believe me, I want to. But you’ve had a lot to drink.”

“I haven’t,” you said, grabbing his wrist before he could pull away. The touch of another person felt so nice against your icy skin. “I’m okay. I’m not drunk.” You weren’t—the alcohol had just made you brave enough to ask. “Please, Chuuya.”

He swallowed thickly. “He’ll kill me.”

“And he’ll kill me. Just as you said.” You met his eyes completely, wondering why you couldn’t care for this man in the same way, why his lips weren’t as alluring as Dazai’s, why his voice didn’t set a blaze deep in your stomach. “Do you really care whether Dazai thinks of me as his?”

His cheeks were flushed, eyebrows pinched, and you spotted the moment he began to draw back. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just can’t.”

Then, you panicked, eyes becoming glassy as he released you, turning to retreat back to his bedroom, and you scrambled for another way, a way to bring him back to you.

“Chuuya, please,” you said, desperation in every syllable, and when he turned around, you knew you had him wrapped around your finger. “I just want to know what it’s like with a person who loves me. Can’t you give me that?”

That was it. That was all you had to say. When Chuuya bowed his head, you knew he’d given in.

“Why do you think I can give you what he can’t?” Chuuya’s voice was nothing more than a whisper. “I’m not that kind of man. I’m not the kind of man you’re looking for.”

“No,” you said. “You’re not that kind of man. You’re Chuuya. The only person that’s always been there for me.”

He hesitated, momentarily, before sweeping you into his arms, his touch the softest you’d ever felt. “Are you certain that you want this?”

“Yes.”

“Then it doesn’t matter if Dazai kills me.” Chuuya spoke into your mouth, carving the words into your aching heart. “You were always going to be the death of me, anyway.”

His lips were upon you again, kissing you with the hunger of a starved man, and you gave him back as much as you could, which was the despair of a lonely woman. His touch was one of loving hands as guided you back into the bedroom tenderly.

When your back hit the bed, he asked if you were okay, asked if everything was comfortable. The concern in his eyes had rarely been seen in Dazai’s own—you couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken care of you first.

“I’m fine, Chuuya,” you promised again and again, and you smiled, caressing the soft skin of his jaw.

His lips pulled back in return, and then your shirt was thrown over your head, carelessly tossed towards the corner of the room. Though, no matter how many articles of clothing you lost, the necklace that Dazai had given you still rested against your collarbone.

You cupped your palm around it, trying to avert Chuuya’s gaze as he stared down at the precious metal, something conflicting in his cool irises.

“It’s okay,” you said, doing your best to distract him. You wouldn’t take the necklace off. It didn’t matter how much Dazai had hurt you; you needed the reminder of the absolute infidelity you were committing. “Keep going.”

Feeling more anxious than you had before, you kissed Chuuya, trying to dispel the bile that gathered in the back of your throat.

“You’re so beautiful,” Chuuya said, kissing every inch of your face, his hands hovering over your chest. “I could look at you forever, and it wouldn’t be long enough.”

Chuuya’s sentiments warmed you, but words weren’t enough. You pulled his vest off, then the buttoned-shirt and every other intricate article of clothing he wore.

It felt wrong. His height was wrong. His skin felt too warm under your palm.

“When did you fall in love with me?” you asked, breathing heavily. Desire pooled in your abdomen against your will, your own heart betraying you. Still, it was nothing more than the most basic reaction of human nature, raw and primal, unaffected by the organ that was jailed within your ribcage.

Chuuya was surprised by the question, and he paused, his face just inches above your stomach. “I think I realized when I was seventeen.” He huffed out a laugh, inhaling your perfume. “It was the first time I saw Dazai kiss you. I thought I was going to be sick.” He continued kissing down your body, sliding your pants past your hips. “I’d always wanted you. I guess I just didn’t realize until then.”

You exhaled, feeling tears spring to the corners of your eyes, ones you suppressed.

Dazai had given you flowers that day. You remembered how they smelled, the rainy spring breeze. The way the sun reflected in his brown irises, melting them into candied honey that brightened his entire complexion.

“Then take me, Chuuya. If you’ve wanted me for so long, then fuck me like you mean it.”

His dark eyes flashed, but his gentle caresses never turned rough, never sped through a single moment you had together. You smiled, your expression peaceful and open when he finally slid your panties off, your cunt throbbing as his finger brushed against your swollen clit.

Chuuya took his time with you, singing praises that you hadn’t heard in a long time, and you came once around his slender fingers, the ones that were much less skilled at knowing every place you enjoyed being touched.

When he finally sunk inside you, you still felt empty, unfulfilled. You tried to lose yourself in his mouth, in the taste of wine and Chuuya, and dug your fingers into his back.

“Feel so good around me, baby.” Chuuya whispered into your skin, imprinting the words into your neck. He was careful not to leave any marks, though he wanted to, wanted to claim you as his own. “Taking me so well.”

You tugged on his hair as he kissed down your collarbone, between your breasts, his breath hot and heavy. Though you cried out, you kept your voice quiet, still fearful that someone might hear, might know exactly what kind of betrayal you’d committed.

Chuuya thrust into you slowly, so much gentler than Dazai, hitting the spot deep inside of you that had you arching off the bed. “Fuck,” he said, choking on his own breath. “You have no idea how you make me feel.” He was full of desperation, his hands digging into your hips.

“Chuuya,” you said, holding his head between your palms.

He gave you the brightest smile in return, sad and meaningful. “I know. I can feel you squeezing me tighter. Let go for me, doll.”

His hair was just as soft, but it wasn’t dark enough, wasn’t short enough. His kiss didn’t feel the same, and you felt tears blurring your vision as you realized you’d never wanted him, you only wanted Dazai, and this was all wrong.

Still, you came around him, as he was buried deep inside you, but his name never left your lips, not even as a breathy whisper, because the one that was sitting there was Osamu.

And when he pulled out of you, you stroked him with practiced laziness, moving your hands in the way you knew Dazai liked, even though Chuuya felt so much different in your palm.

Chuuya kissed you as warmth flooded into your hand, and then he was breathing heavily, collapsing onto the bed next to you. He kissed you over and over, holding you tight, and you smiled, satisfied, because at the least, you knew this was what love felt like.

You’d never get it from the man you wanted, so you’d take it from Chuuya, even if it made you feel rotten inside.

The room smelled like sex and betrayal, and Chuuya took care of you, carried you out of the bed for a bath, and gently rinsed away the sweat and grime.

You were silent for most of the time, only reassuring him when he asked if you were alright.

For the first time, maybe you were. You imagined a future where you could learn to love Chuuya, a future where you were finally able to rid yourself of Dazai and start over again.

But it was nothing more than a delusion, a dream that would never happen. Dazai was a part of your soul. You knew that and Chuuya knew that, even as he closed his eyes next to you, the woman that would never give her love to anyone else. Your heart beat and bled for Dazai Osamu, every inch of your being meant for him. It would kill you to let him go, and if he died, you’d die right alongside him.

You turned away from Chuuya, burying your face in your hands, completely unaware that he’d left the bed to sleep in the other room.

You didn’t talk to Chuuya the next morning, not when you took a private car back to Yokohama, not when you stepped foot back onto the Mafia headquarters. Things between you had soured, just as you’d suspected, and you didn’t know how to fix it, didn’t think there was any way to go back from what had happened.

Higuchi was waiting for the two of you when you walked in the door, her blazer perfectly pressed, and her shirt tucked. She greeted you with a half-smile—gesturing towards the stairs. “The boss wants to see all of us for a meeting. He said you two would be arriving at this time.”

You nodded, and Chuuya scoffed, shaking his head. “I’ll never understand his superhuman ability to know what’s happening all of the time.”

Swallowing, you followed Higuchi, trying not to hear the foreboding nature of Chuuya’s statement.

Most high-ranking Mafia members were in attendance, with Dazai at the head of the table, the dark wooden chair beside him eerily empty and welcoming. You took a seat, and Dazai’s eyes ran over you, smoothly and hastily, before a small smile appeared on his features. “No injuries?” he said, and though his tone was professional, you could hear the slightest bit of concern.

“None,” you said, and something in your voice cracked, ever so slightly.

You were such a fool. You’d never be able to hide something like this from Dazai.

He eyed you suspiciously, before sliding his glance over to Chuuya, who was as cool as usual. His face was shadowed by his hat, hiding any evidence of a sleepless night.

“Chuuya,” Dazai said, tucking his palm into his hand. “Debrief.”

Your partner gave Dazai every last detail, summarizing as best he could, and sliding in the occasional sarcastic remark as he leaned back casually in the chair. Dazai listened with boredom in his expression, drumming his fingers against the table until Chuuya’s monologue was complete.

He turned to Akutagawa, who bowed his head an immediately launched into his own assignment.

You blinked—you hadn’t realized that Akutagawa’s squad had been sent elsewhere. It made no sense for Dazai to send you with Chuuya when your own division had a separate mission.

The meeting wrapped up quickly, and the members scattered, going their own separate ways for the afternoon. Chuuya refused to meet your eye as he got up from the table, one of the last to leave the room.

As you stood, Dazai closed a hand around your wrist, his thumb brushing your pulse.

“Was the hotel alright?” he asked, his head titled curiously. “You look tired.”

You took a sharp breath.

Fuck.

“It was fine, Osamu,” you said, and when his name slipped easily from your tongue, something in him changed. He loosened the hand on your wrist before releasing it entirely, the bandaged palm falling into his lap. “Thank you.”

Dazai nodded, turning away from you, and you’d forgotten that there were still other people in the room. Akutagawa, who lingered with morbid curiosity, and his sister, who had always sort of pitied you for your tumultuous relationship, bore witness to the brief interaction.

Behind them, Chuuya stood tense, his back straight as he crossed the threshold, sparing you only a glimpse before exiting into the darkened hallway.  

“Alright,” Dazai said in a hushed voice, his face schooled back into the usual, guarded expression. “I’ll see you later.”

It wasn’t much of a response, and he didn’t elaborate, keeping his steely eyes ahead as some low-ranking members trudged in for a meeting with their boss. He’d be busy all afternoon, it seemed.

You swallowed, and left, knowing that it was fruitless to try and keep a secret from him.

Chuuya waited for you outside, his arms crossed as he regarded you with a contempt that hadn’t been there before, such a contrast to the loving man you had seen last night. “This changes everything, you know?”

“I know,” you said, your voice thick with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, Chuuya.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he scoffed. “I was the fool. I made my choice.” Chuuya sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I meant what I said, though. Yesterday. It was all true, and if you need anything, I’ll be here.”

You felt a chasm open in your chest, and you wished the floor would’ve swallowed you whole. You were losing everyone, it seemed, and maybe, Dazai really did have a point with his talk about suicide.

When you stepped into the bedroom, Dazai was sitting on the edge of the bed, the setting sun casting a shadow of his own reflection. He was twirling a pistol around his pointed finger, staring at the wall with blank eyes.

You shut the door quietly, your hands shaking against the golden knob.

Though you hadn’t made a sound when you walked through the door, Dazai’s gaze was on you immediately, sensing your entrance.

You’d never been able to slip past him.

“You’re back early.” Those were the first words that came to your mind, your voice breaking the uncomfortable silence. He was regarding you with disdain, his jaw set coolly. His hair turned bronze in the evening rays, loose strands scraping against the bandages.

“I am.” His jaw clenched, examining you with a singular, dark eye. You felt exposed under his gaze, laid bare for him to see no matter how much you shrouded yourself with. “You sound like you’re unhappy to see me.”

Dazai ran his finger along the trigger like he’d never held such a weapon before, the gun becoming an object of morbid fascination. 

You exhaled. There was so much space between you, a distance you weren’t sure you’d ever cross again. Though you thought you knew Dazai better than anyone, in that moment, he was unreadable—a chapter of pages that had been torn out.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said, standing tall. Despite your nerves, you were fixated on Dazai, always drawn to him like a moth to a flame, desperate to uncover the very thing that could kill you. “I miss you every time we’re apart. You’re no stranger to my feelings.”

You could offer him that, at the very least. An undeniable truth before everything between you shattered.

Dazai stood, his dark coat billowing out behind him as he finally came to face you, suddenly seeming much taller than you remembered. And with one look, you knew that he knew. He’d always been too smart for his own good.

“I’m not certain of that any longer,” he laughed, though it was a bitter sound that clawed its way up his throat. “Why don’t you tell me the truth, instead.” Dazai stood before you with a smile that was so sweet it was almost sinister. “Aren’t you going to tell me what you did?”

You weren’t sure which one of you would blink first, caught in some deadly staring contest. Most people would’ve surrendered to him by now.

 “Why?” you jutted your chin out, refusing to give in to him in any way. If you were going to die, and you were, you would make sure Dazai knew everything you’d never told him. “You already know.”

“No.” He poked the gun into your cheek, right beneath the sharp bone. He’d clicked the safety off moments before. “I want to hear you say it. You betrayed me.”

When you refused to say a word, Dazai hissed and cocked the gun. He pressed it to your temple, the metal cold against your delicate skin.

“Say it.”

You sniffed. He wasn’t giving in, and instead, stood there silently, unmoving until you finally caved. There was something about the color of his eyes. No matter how much they hardened, you still remembered the young man he used to be. The one who wasn’t quite so cold, who picked you flowers, even with blood dripping down his arm.

“Fine.” You narrowed your eyes. “I fucked Chuuya.”

Dazai blinked. Then, he started laughing. Crazily, maniacally. You saw too much of your old boss in him that it made you sick.

“Shameless.” Dazai took a step back and dropped the gun to his side.

“What?” you sneered, pressing yourself up against him, refusing to be intimidated by the man that had been yours for years. “Should I be ashamed?”

Dazai’s eyes flashed, his jaw clenching. “Yes,” he said, fists curling at his sides. “After everything I’ve done for you.” Dazai grew quieter, flicking a strand of hair out of your face. “Do you feel no remorse?”

“You can’t be serious. What have you done for me, Dazai?” You grew still, grabbing his wrist before he could touch you again. “You’re not upset I was with another man; you’re just upset that it was Chuuya.”

You poked him in the chest, a hot stream of air exhaling through your nose.

“I gave you everything, didn’t I?” The two of you spoke at each other, avoiding the answers, never acknowledging what the other had to say. Around and around you went, an endless circle until one of you finally conceded. “I’ve given you the world, and you still wanted more.” Dazai finally broke free of your loose grasp, stroking your cheek. “What can Chuuya give you that I can’t? I ask for nothing but honesty.”

There was no jealousy in the tone, no sorrow; it was the most genuine question he’d asked you in months. The inquiry of a man who’d lost sight of himself in the past few years, and who’d somehow, over time, forgotten what it meant to care for another.

“You gave me nothing,” you said, but somewhere along the way, your cheeks had grown wet. You’d been struck by the sudden affection in his voice, the softness harsher than a slap to the face.

He was a horrible man, the worst kind of man. Yet, you couldn’t imagine a life without him, a world where you existed alone.

The truth rested at the edge of your tongue. It wouldn’t solve much, your affection for him never had solved much, but at least he would understand.

“This was never about wanting more. I never wanted Chuuya. You’re a fool if you think that.”

Dazai was silent. You pressed on.

“I wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted you. I’ve devoted my entire life to you. I do everything you ask.” You were breathing heavily, big gulping breaths that contained minimal oxygen. “I asked for nothing in return. Nothing but for you to care about me, and you never did.”

“Is that the case?” Dazai laughed humorlessly.

You ignored him, your confession leaving on one heavy breath, a string of words incomprehensible to your ears. “But Chuuya loves me. He always has, and he made certain I knew that.” You paused, averting your eyes. The entire city could be seen from the window over his shoulder. “He told me all of that, and you know what I thought the whole time?”

Dazai scowled.

“I wished that he was you instead. I wanted it to be you so badly, I wanted it to be you saying those things to me, kissing me like I was the most important thing in the world.” You took his wrist again, pressing the gun back to your temple. The cool metal was almost soothing against your skin. “Please, Dazai. Give me this one last thing. I’m begging you to kill me. I can’t take this any longer.”

His finger rested on the trigger.

“I want it to be you. I’ve never wanted to die at anyone’s hands but your own.” His hand felt just as it always had in your palm, his fingers much longer, but his skin so soft. It was almost comforting, how familiar he was, and you longed to be a part of him, to bury yourself deep within him and wear his skin as your own.

Dazai’s expression twitched, and you smiled at him, the taste of salty tears spilling into your mouth.

As you closed your eyes, you prepared for the noise, hoping your blood splattered on Dazai’s coat and stained it, the proof of your existence inerasable. You hoped that Dazai would grow to regret it, would realize that your love for him was close to unconditional.

But the violence never came. The cool metal fell away from your skin, and when you opened your eyes again, Dazai’s shoulders had slumped, the very image of defeat.

“Do you honestly think I can bring myself to kill you?”

“What’s the matter?” you asked, blinking your eyes open. You reached for the gun again, but he drew back, as if stung. “Afraid to lose your best assassin?”

“No.” Dazai’s eyes were hard, his frown set deep into his face. “I’m afraid to lose the woman I love. The most important person in the world to me.”

You stared. Blinked. Then, the worst kind of emotion washed over you.

You swallowed over and over, trying to get the bile out of your throat. You’d wanted to be done, wanted to escape. And yet—

“Don’t say that.” you shook your head, backing away as Dazai inched closer, too close and you felt yourself getting sucked back in, remembering that you’d loved him for years, and you’d never love anyone else. “Fuck you, Dazai. Stop toying with me, and just kill me."

“I love you. I thought you knew that my darling angel.”

You were crying harder, shaking your head. “I don’t believe you. You don’t care about me.”

“No?” Dazai had grabbed your wrist again, but it was so soft. “I thought you were smarter than that. Did you think you were partnered with Akutagawa at random, and not for the sole reason that I knew he’d do everything in his power to protect you? Did you think I moved your seat next to me at meetings because you were nothing more than my stupid whore? Bought you everything you ever wanted because I couldn’t stand you?”

“Yes,” you said, sniffing, feeling yourself melt where he touched you, itching to reach up and pull the bandages off his face, see the beautiful features beneath them that he hid from the world. “You don’t care about me."

“I do care,” he said, fingers grazing your chin. “I’ve killed for you. I took over the Port Mafia so I could give you everything you wanted. Why wasn’t that enough?”

“Because I never wanted that. I never wanted any of this. I wanted you, Dazai Osamu. That was all.”

Dazai frowned, and then he bowed his head, kissed your neck, then around your earlobe, and it was the softest you’d ever felt in your entire life, a gentleness you hadn’t known he was capable of. When his hands snaked around your stomach, pulling you back against him, you were lost in his adoration.

“You never said anything,” he said, kissing your shoulder, breaking the tension in the muscles. You were his, in every lifetime, you’d be his. “I thought you were… happy?”

“How could you think that? I’m not happy, Dazai. I’ve never been less happy.”

“Not even when I tell you that I love you?” he kissed your knuckles.

“Do you love me enough to be a better man? Do you love me enough to let me sleep in your bed and see your whole heart instead of the fragmented pieces that you sliced up just to hide?”

“Yes.” The word was resounding, resolute. “I love you enough to forgive you.”

You held him at a distance, lips falling apart easily. “But I don’t want to forgive you.”

“You will.” Dazai smiled, that irritatingly knowing smile of his that you’d fallen for in the first place. “You will because I mean it this time.”

“You never apologized,” you looked away, trying to find the strength to move. You were enraptured, in every fiber of his being. “You never will. You never do.”

“I never knew anything was wrong,” he frowned, and it wasn’t the truth, but it wasn’t a lie, and you had him so close that you just wanted to forget anything had ever changed. “How was I to fix it if you never told me?”

His words were full of poison, but his voice was so soft you couldn’t help but fall back into him. Perhaps, you should’ve said something. Maybe your actions had never been enough.

“How long have I been at your side, spent hours listening to your every word, even when they didn’t make sense to me? You should’ve known, Dazai. I shouldn’t have to tell you something like that.” Your words were losing their bite, and his lips quirked up, knowing that you were slowly coming back to him, clearing you of the sins you had committed.

He was hesitant, thoughtful, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. And perhaps, that was the final straw in your resistance, his gentle kiss enough to set your soul on fire.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Dazai said, his lips ghosting over yours, handing over the apology like a gift. “Won’t you give me a chance to fix it now?” It felt like a bad idea. Dazai wasn’t deserving of any more chances; you’d already given him years of second chances, had always given him the benefit of the doubt.

“You expect me to believe you’ll let us off scot-free?” you said, your face deadly close to Dazai’s. “What about Chuuya? Will you kill him in my place.”

“You’ve got me in your hand, love. If you want me to punish Chuuya, just say the word. I’ll kill him if that’s what you want.”

It wasn’t. That was the farthest thing from what you wanted, but you worried that if you sounded too enthusiastic, he might just follow through with it.

Instead, you pulled him to you, grabbing the dark tie that he wore around his neck. He grinned into your lips, his saccharine smile seeming much too deadly to be all that sweet. “Do you honestly think I believe a word that you’re saying?”

“You want to,” Dazai said, curling his hand around your jaw, his fingers brushing your ear. “That’s what matters the most.” He kissed your lips, and you could taste the difference, all the love he poured into it this time. It wasn’t like kissing a statue. “It’s all true, anyway.”

You broke away, breathing. “I won’t do this anymore, Dazai.” You finally had his hand in your own, placing the gun back to your temple. “You’re not the man you once were, and you’ll never be him again.” The smile that graced your lips was sad, though it was knowing. Things were always going to end this way.

Dazai’s face wrinkled as he tried to decipher all the words you’d never spoken. “I’m not the same man, that’s true, but my affection for you has never died.” He cupped his other hand around your cheek, hesitantly keeping the gun to your temple, squinting with his head bent.

“You’re the leader of the Port Mafia, and such a ruthless man wouldn’t let a betrayal go unscathed.”

There was a wave of silence while the two of you stared at one another, sifting through the situation with hardness in your jaws, the tension palpable within the air. Dazai straightened, clarity in his irises as a smooth smile burned onto his lips.

“Is that what you want?” he said innocently. “You want to be punished for your insurrections?”

Your mouth grew dry, but you held your ground firmly, swallowing back all the uncertainty. Perhaps you didn’t want to die. Perhaps you did. You just hated the gaping hole inside of you that never seemed to leave. “I want you to kill me.”

“Kill you?” Dazai laughed, then the hilt of the gun was against your temple once more. He held your chin steady between his forefinger and thumb, regarding you with thinly veiled disgust. “You’ve never wanted that before. Not when I asked you to die alongside me, to follow me far into the afterlife.” He sighed, releasing your chin before cocking the gun. “This isn’t about death at all.”

“What—”

“You want me to claim you, is that it?” He clicked his tongue before leaning forward, sneering. “Perhaps it’s that other way around. You want everyone in the Mafia to know I belong to you, hm?’

You blinked, though you began to feel weak in the knees, the eyes that you knew so well suddenly intimidating. “I never said—” but even then, your voice wavered, unsteady and uncertain of the immediate heat that had swirled under your skin.

Dazai’s mouth curled, a gruesome smile there. “I know you better than anyone. I’ve always known exactly what you want. Even though I shouldn’t forgive you, I can’t help myself.”

You swallowed, and Dazai had taken a step forward, pushing you with him, the gun still swaying at your temple, even when the backs of your thighs hit the bed. You fell onto the mattress, and he was on top of you, his finger caressing the trigger as he collapsed.

Dazai had never scared you, not even when he was a child you’d barely known, the teenager shaped in Mori’s image. Though, now, the unreadable expression on his face was alarming you, and you wondered if all this time, you should’ve been fearful.

Still, even with your underlying hesitance, you felt a wave of desire crash over you at the sheer need in his eyes. It wasn’t something you were unfamiliar with, but there was something else there. Maybe it was the love you’d just never noticed.

“Osamu,” you said in a quiet voice, not afraid, but not confident either. Your finger brushed the point on his wrist—it was the same heartbeat you’d always recognized.

“What?” he said, taunting you menacingly as he towered above you. “You were so bold just a second ago? What happened, darling?”

Unable to do anything but blink back at him, Dazai brought his thumb to your lips, brushing it across the plump skin before dipping it into your mouth.

Unprepared, you nearly choked, eyes blown wide as you stared back at him. Though, there was a command within his eyes, and you obliged, sucking as you watched the saliva drip down to his palm. Dazai pulled it away from your mouth with an obscene pop, giving you a sweet smile from his position above you.

Despite your humiliation, you shifted your hips on the bed, bringing your thighs together to provide you with a fraction of relief. Dazai’s eyes flashed at the movement, his smirk widening with an amusement.

“You’re nothing more than a dumb slut, aren’t you?” Dazai’s hand ghosted of your stomach, settling on the inside of your thigh momentarily. You ached with need, swallowing your pride and any demands that you could make of him. “Had Chuuya all to yourself this weekend, and still expect me to fuck you senseless.”

Your brow furrowed, and you opened your mouth before shutting it, lips still covered in your own spit. “Osamu,” you began, attempting to diffuse the situation, to explain that what had transpired between you and Chuuya meant nothing, but he never gave you the opportunity. “It wasn’t—”

Dazai’s gaze hardened, the adoration disappearing the moment you dared to speak. His fingers deftly wrapped around your throat, thrusting you into the mattress with enough force to quiet you entirely. “Shut up. If I want to hear you speak, I’ll ask. Understand?”

You could do nothing but nod, hating yourself for the ache that had grown more and more intense in your core, desperate for some sort of contact. Dazai, distracted with his own task of tearing your top off, had failed to notice the breathing that had grown heavier, the flush of heat that spread on every inch of your body.

His slender fingers finally removed the confining pants, a task he did skillfully with one hand still wrapped around your throat. Then, his fingers were against your aching cunt, and you twitched, letting out a heavy sound from the singular movement. You could feel yourself pulsing against nothing, desperate for his fingers between your legs.

“Pathetic,” he said, his fingers lazily dipping through your folds over your underwear. “I’ve barely touched you. How can you be this fucking wet?”

“Please,” you said quietly, your own hand aching to take over, if only to provide yourself that relief that he refused to give you. Every time you shifted into his hand, he brought it away, taunting you with the release you so craved.

“Please?” Dazai was mocking, cruel, every bit of the person people expected him to be. The one he never had been with you, not until recently. “You’re nothing more than a greedy little whore. Must have been why you fucked Chuuya without a second thought, huh?”

You were silent, staring him down with a clenched jaw. Your brain was twisting, betraying you, turning into empty cells within your skull, and you weren’t sure how to handle the accumulation of emotions that you felt for the man before you, the one who’s love had always been purposeful and merciless.

“Well?” he said, tightening a hand to close off the air to your lungs, trapping you with his strength. “Answer me.”

“No,” you gasped, and when your words sounded choked, when you clawed at his wrist, he loosened his grip just a hair, the only indication that the man you loved was in there at all. Still, your hips acted of their own accord, shifting further into his hand. “I’m sorry, Osamu, I am.” You felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes as he finally slipped his fingers under your panties, rubbing your aching clit. “I wanted you; I needed you and you were never there, but Chuuya was, and—”

You were a stammering mess of desperation and regret, feeling unglued under Dazai’s hands, like the words you’d been meaning to say could finally come out. He was the only one who’d ever listened to you completely, who you’d felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with. Yet, it had been so long since you’d let yourself be open with him, and now that the opportunity arose, you were too weak to deny it.

“I was always here,” Dazai said harshly, and you were almost certain that his anger was genuine, the tone breaking in his voice a result of true sadness. “You never came to me, and I thought that’s how you wanted it to be.” His fingers sunk into you, and you threw your head back into the pillow, moaning sinfully with the lewd sound of him sinking in and out of you, the wetness collecting with every movement.

“You never showed me you cared,” you cried out, certain that there were tears streaming down your cheeks, and you should’ve been humiliated. It was humiliating—the way you were clothed in nothing, crying as Dazai laughed at you, taking full control over your body. How he could’ve done anything to you in that moment, and you would’ve let him, because that was just how much you wanted him.

“And Chuuya was the solution?” He grabbed your cheeks with the hand that had once been around your throat, pinching them to make you look at him. “You going to pass yourself around the rest of the Mafia, sweetheart? Who’ll get a taste of you next? I’m not so certain even Akutagawa would pass up the opportunity.”

His words were senseless, meant to hurt you, and you still couldn’t stand the anguish that was in his eyes.

“No,” you said, and you leaned up, wanting so badly for his lips to be on yours, to feel some semblance of the connection that you’d always had with him. “I wouldn’t, Dazai, I’m yours.” You choked on the sounds of your own moans, your thighs shaking with every change in pressure. “I’m yours. Please, I need you.”

You were certain there were marks on your neck from his fingertips, and Dazai ghosted his mouth along the delicate skin there, biting at the soreness from before. You jerked, digging your nails into his back as you drew closer and closer to your climax.

“Don’t make demands.” Dazai leaned back, and you missed the closeness, the sharp scent of him lingering in your space. “Chuuya hasn’t been a part of this conversation yet. Should we get him up here? I hadn’t considered what to do with him, but this might suffice.”

Dazed and drunk on the feeling of his hands all over you, it took you a moment to process what he was saying. His hand was already swiping through his phone, picking the number of the man that you least wanted to see.

“No, Osamu, don’t—” you cried out, and yet, you made no move to stop him. Instead, you remained pliant on the bed as he sunk another finger into you, his thumb moving in agonizing circles against your clit.  He tucked the cellphone under his chin, smiling at you maliciously, controlling you with every blink of his lashes.

You had always had trouble resisting him. Now was no different.

Chuuya answered as you released another moan, and Dazai was grinning wickedly, as if some larger scheme had finally come together, the culmination of everything he was plotting. “Boss?”

“Chuuya,” Dazai said, and you flinched, locking gazes with his deep brown irises, the color so alluring and beautiful, a shade that had darkened with each misfortune you’d endured together. You hated him, you did, but there was a fine line between the two, and your love for him would die with you, would transcend whatever simple rules the afterlife placed on Earth. “How quickly can you make it up here?”

You could hear the hesitation on the other side; Chuuya didn’t say anything for a moment.

“A couple minutes, I think. I haven’t left the building.”

“I’ll give you a couple minutes then.” Dazai’s words were clipped as he hung up the phone, throwing it to the arm chair a few feet away from the bed.

His attention was back on you completely as you let out a shaky breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure before Chuuya came into the room. Though it was so hard when the pools in his irises were pulling you deeper, locking you into a heaven that you’d never been able to reach.

Dazai pulled away briefly, his soaking fingers leaving your body to alleviate his cock from the confines of his dark pants, hovering before you.

You swallowed, not able to remember the last time your desire for him ached this badly. Your eyes trained on the very part of him that you wanted inside of you, the tip flushed so beautifully. There was nothing on your mind but him, how you wanted every part of him, even if it meant enduring misery after misery, and Chuuya was right—if you were to love Dazai, you needed to love every part of him, even when it seemed impossible.

A whine escaped you and you were reaching out to him, knowing he’d never let you live down your humiliation, but the future was not a part of your logical thinking, not now. “Want you inside me.”

“Surely you can hold off for a few minutes,” Dazai said, though the way his toned chest pressed to your own, and how he kissed your face with a tenderness you’d forgotten made it nearly impossible for you to refrain. “So desperate for my cock.”

You wanted to touch yourself—you would’ve, had you not been so nervous of the fact that Chuuya could come in at any minute.

“Tell him to leave,” you said, dragging your fingers through his hair, finally kissing him like you’d been wanting to, and the sound was sinful, heavy with lust as you forced a taste into his mouth, wishing every part of him was a part of you too. “I don’t want him or anyone else, just you, I promise—” 

Dazai cut you off and ignored your pleas; he smiled against your lips, though it was anything but kind. “I think he’ll enjoy seeing you like this, won’t he? You’ve got such a filthy mouth on you when you’re fucked properly.” He kissed his way down your chest, resting his face just above your breasts. “I bet Chuuya didn’t see this side of you, did he?” Dazai licked a circle around your nipple, tugging it between his teeth. “I’ve done nothing but call you names and you’re dripping all over the sheets.”

You shook your head, feeling pained by how badly you wanted release.

“Of course not.” Dazai sat back up like he could sense Chuuya approaching from the other side of the door, his presence bold and detectible. “He’s forgotten what’s mine, after all.” He smiled at you once more, kissing you with a kind of love that only he could portray, the kind that was nowhere close to innocent. “Don’t cum until I tell you to. Be good for me, okay?”

Dazai had always known what to say to you, even when your relationship was falling apart, even when you hated him more than you loved him. His words could be so tender, the praise melted in with the unkind quips of his tongue. It was the gentlest tone he’d used since your clothes had come off, and you couldn’t help but melt under him, nodding like you’d give him anything he asked of you.

Of course you would.

Dazai traced your features delicately, grinning maniacally, ears attuned to the quiet that broke from the footsteps approaching. His cock was lined up against your dripping hole, and it took every ounce of restraint not to plant yourself on it, trying so hard to please him, the sinful man who held too much power over you.

“You’re so pretty like this, aren’t you? My beautiful little whore, always willing to take whatever I give you.”

“’Samu,” you babbled, blinking away the tears as you latched onto him, wishing you could spare yourself the humiliation, but too drunk on him to care. He shifted you forward, taking your thighs in his hands and placing them around his waist. “I can’t take it all at once—”

“You’ve done it before. Do it again.” He growled, squeezing your throat once more in one smooth motion, thrusting into you. And though you had doubted how prepared you were, he slid into you easily, already so loose and pliant from his fingers. “See? Never forgot the shape of me, sweetheart. Even after you’ve been with another man.”

You let out a choked moan as Chuuya walked into the room, lost in the ache and the burn and the pleasure that came with loving and fucking Dazai.

There was one singular pass of silence before Chuuya spoke, letting the door shut with a quiet click on the hinge. “Boss—” Chuuya was hesitant, though his eyes were immediately drawn to you, raking over your blissed-out form. “You said to—” His hand was still on the knob, though he was distracted, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, ashamed but so full of want that it ached.

“Come in, Chuuya,” Dazai said sharply, his words solid and commanding, and you couldn’t help it when you clenched around him, drawing him further into you with nails scraping down his back. “We should discuss something.”

“Well, can we talk about it when you’re not in the middle of fucking your girl?” Chuuya asked, swallowing down the desire he hid so poorly. His cheeks had flushed, words just on the edge of stumbling and slurring together. “Another time, maybe.”

“This is the perfect time, actually,” Dazai stopped moving, already breathing heavily above you as you stared, whined, needing so badly for him to stop teasing you. “Besides,” his eyes drifted knowingly to Chuuya’s obvious erection as he laughed darkly. “I don’t think you mind so much.”

Dazai pulled back painfully slowly before sinking into you with a quicker thrust, your back arching off the mattress to catch even more of him inside of you. A barely noticeable sweat had broken against his hairline, and you stared at him, mouth slightly agape in awe at the boss of the Port Mafia, the one you somehow had wrapped around your little finger.

Your breathing had grown unsteady as his cock got deeper and deeper inside of you, hitting where you’d never been quite able to get with your fingers, the thickness of him catching on every sensitive part inside of you. His hand was back between your legs, rubbing circles on your clit, and you weren’t sure you could last much longer, not as he carried on a conversation with Chuuya, who watched you with darkened eyes, barely holding himself back.

“Please, Osamu,” you were practically begging now, your cheeks glistening with wetness as you clawed at the muscles between his shoulder blades, surely leaving bruises all down his spine. “Please, please, let me cum.”

Dazai made a tsk noise in the back of his throat. “Not yet. I don’t think you deserve it quite yet, does she, Chuuya?”

Chuuya sniffed, shifting uncomfortably as his pants grew tighter. “Gonna punish her all day, boss? Such a pretty thing should get what she wants, shouldn’t she?”

Dazai dropped his chest closer to you, going deeper into you, and you cried out his name, though your eyes were still locked with Chuuya, as if he were going to be your savior. You remembered how gently he’d touched you, how careful he was, and you wondered why you’d ever wanted that at all.

“Chuuya thinks he can fuck you better than me, darling, but you know that’s not true, don’t you? He’d spoil you too much, but this is what you want, right? You want to be called a stupid fucking cockslut.” Dazai grinned against your lips, whispering in a breath that only you could hear. “Just so that at the end of it all, you’ll be my good girl.”

You whimpered, soaking him as you clenched harder. Your brain had gone numb from the feeling of him. Dazai was smiling viciously, but you could see the underlying tenderness.

“She looks so pretty right now, doesn’t she Chuuya? Not a single thought in that beautiful little head of hers.” He smiled at him knowingly, dark hair flopping into his eyes as the rest of the loose tendrils stuck to his forehead. “You’re lucky. You’ve gotten two chances to see her now. Twice as many as most men who fantasize about fucking a woman that sleeps in another man’s bed.”

Chuuya’s voice was raw, his words cracked. “You’re sick, Dazai,” he said, clenching his hands into fists. “Putting on a show like this just to punish me.”

“You and I both know you’re enjoying this.” Dazai traced your cheeks sweetly, kissing your lips deeply. You let out a strangled breath into his mouth, something on the precipice of a moan. “Can you do one thing for me, pretty girl? One more, then I’ll let you cum, how’s that?”

You nodded, desperately, as Dazai’s fingers finally dipped back down, rubbing agonizingly light circles.

“Tell Chuuya who’s making you feel this way,” Dazai said, pushing your face away from him to stare straight into Chuuya’s dark eyes. “Tell him who you love the most.”

“You,” you gasped out, clenching tighter around him. What an easy request to make—you’d never loved anyone else. “I’m in love with you.”

Dazai sniffed, though he was patient, slowing his thrusts almost to a stop. “Not good enough. I need you to be more specific.”

You cried out, locking your ankles onto his hips, trying to force him back into you. But Dazai didn’t budge, watching you until you provided the answer that he so desired. “I love you, Dazai.”

He frowned, shaking his head once more. “My name. Say it. It sounds so sweet from your lips.”

“Osamu,” you choked out. “I love you, Osamu. I love you. I love you.”

Dazai finally smiled above you, gently tracing your cheeks with his thumb as he slowed down the pace of his hips. “I love you too, darling.” His words were soft, whispered into your lips before he turned away, meeting eyes with Chuuya across the room. “See?”

Chuuya was glowering, stiff as a board, his face pink, and his legs shaky. “I got it, Boss.” He choked out, though his eyes were on you, unable to leave your body, even as he tried so hard to be polite. His aching cock strained against his pants, and he breathed sharply, swallowing over and over. “Do I need to be here any longer?”

Dazai laughed, and you thought he looked so pretty when he did that, his smile flashing wide and alluring, the corners of his eyes crinkling marginally. “Never said you had to stay. I figured you’d want to watch her come undone one last time.”

Chuuya, for as noble as he wanted himself to be, made no move to leave, glued to the spot on the floor beyond your bed. He was just across the room, but you couldn’t focus on anyone but Dazai, Dazai, Dazai, Dazai, the man who you’d killed and bled and committed horrible acts for.

You said his name again, scrambling to bring his attention back to you, hands on his face with a desperation you didn’t realize you’d possessed.

And Dazai, with the kindness of a man he wasn’t, placed his hands just above your stomach, leaving kisses across your chin as he thrust into you, sweetly, menacingly, one last time. “You did so good, my love. You can cum now. Make a mess all over my cock, beautiful.”

You jerked, squeezing around him as you felt the pressure in you finally release, the colors shifting and changing between your high as Dazai brought you in and out of an orgasm, his words reaching your muddled brain with soothing noises. Your body twitched as your muscles spasmed, sweat gathering in the space under your knees. There was little in your mind, save for the dark-haired man that had quickly become your whole world.

You smiled lazily, lacing your fingers with Dazai as you slowly began to come back to yourself. The world around you was empty. Chuuya had all but disappeared into a block of nothingness as you stared into the world itself. If there was no Dazai, there was no you, and it was as simple as that. He was everything you’d ever wanted—you’d be a fool to ever left him go.

As you regained your breathing, still sensitive all over, Dazai came inside you, spilling hot release into you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care, too busy being satisfied with the feeling of him all over you.  His hands never left you—he was delicate, caring, pressing loving touches into your skin as you recovered from your high.

“I’m yours, Osamu,” you said, closing your eyes as you basked against the bed, wanting nothing more than to curl up against him, bury yourself in the warmth of another body. 

He smiled against your cheeks, lips flushed and bruised. “I know you are,” he said to you only, before pulling away. You shivered, but opened your eyes, and he’d already held the gun out to you, presenting it as an offering. “That’s why you’ll be the one to kill him.”

It took you all of ten seconds to remember who him was, and that the man who had borne witness to your most intimate moments with Dazai had not disappeared and was still gawking at you from the corner of the room.

“What?” you asked stupidly, your jaw falling open.

“You heard me.” Dazai pressed the pistol into your palm, curling your fingers around the handle. It was like ice against your hot body, and though it’d been years since your first time firing such a weapon, you suddenly felt like you were there again, uncertain, and afraid of the dangerous firearm. “Kill him.”

You stared at Chuuya, the honest man who, even despite his rough exterior, had been there for you since you were kids. You remembered how the three of you had been so close, for such a long time, until Dazai had gone and killed Mori and fucked it all up.

It felt wrong. The entire situation was wrong, and it never should’ve come to this.

“It’s Chuuya,” you said with tired eyes, something in your voice pleading and desperate.  

Dazai shrugged, holding you close against him as you struggled to sit up in the bed. Your muscles ached and you were still so sensitive, but reality was coming back to you. This was all a mess, and you wanted so badly to feel shame at everything you had done, but you were trying so hard just to–

“You’d think I’d let him live after what he did?”

“Osamu.” You weren’t sure you could bear it. You’d always sworn to kill whatever adversary Dazai and the Port Mafia faced, but Chuuya would always be an exception. You wanted him in your life as much as you wanted Dazai, someone you could trust without fail, who would listen to you complain even when it hurt him. “I won’t do it. He’s my friend. I thought he was yours too.”

Dark eyes full of disdain met your own, and he pinched your jaw once more, a mixture of devastating anger. “I can’t allow a traitor to live. I’ll kill him if you won’t. Then, I’ll kill you. Then myself.”

You shoved him away, suddenly wishing you weren’t so exposed, on display in the middle of the room. “Then fucking do it already, Dazai. What are you waiting for?” A tear broke free from your eye, and you wiped it furiously, not giving him a chance to mock you.

“Stop.” Chuuya finally spoke, his voice drawing your attention like a commandment, and you fell silent, refocusing on him as he bowed before you, dropping to his knees. Eyes locked onto your own without a single fear, cruel acceptance surrounding dark pupils. “It’s alright. I deserve to die. I’ve broken your trust, boss. I might as well be a traitor to the Mafia.” He swallowed, though he was unwavering. “I don’t want to live with this feeling any longer.”

“Don’t say that.” you spat, hating that such a strong man was giving himself over, exposing every weary weakness that he’d come to carry. “You don’t mean it.”

“I do.” He sighed, straightening his spine as he leaned forward towards your hand, much as you had done before, and you realized that this was such a sick, twisted change of fate. That the affection you’d always doubted was real after all, but Chuuya was still left playing the fool.

Perhaps, you were of the same vein, wanting desperately to die in the heavenly hand of the one you loved most. You could understand him for that. You could grant him one final wish.

“Do you regret any of it?” Dazai asked, as the wheels in your head spun, the decision dawning upon you, handed over from the ancient tragedies, rival even to the gloomy romances of Shakespeare.

Chuuya shifted towards the other man, looking into his cold, distant eyes. “No,” he said honestly, his jaw set. “I don’t regret it because now I know she’ll never love me. She’s all yours Dazai. Always has been. Always will be. Does that satisfy you?”

There wasn’t an ounce of fury in his expression when Dazai smiled back.

“You heard him,” Dazai said, lifting your limp arm by the elbow, pointing it like a skilled tutor. The gun was on Chuuya’s forehead, between his eyebrows, and your finger was on the trigger. Dazai’s whisper was like the Devil on your shoulder, and you were falling fast, your last shred of morality burnt from papery resolve. His hand supported your weakened muscles, guiding you along like you’d never before committed such an act. “You’re an assassin, aren’t you?”

You stiffened, narrowing your eyes before cocking the gun, mustering up the last bit of strength you had left. Chuuya couldn’t have looked more prepared for death, and you basked in Dazai’s prideful smile as he branded it into the crook of your neck.

“You’re certain?” you said to Chuuya, once more, hand no longer shaking despite your guilt.

The man, nothing more than a victim, nodded, and he had the audacity to smile, to look peaceful about his release from this life.

“I’m sorry, Chuuya. You shouldn’t have to bear the weight of my sin.” “It’s mine to carry, just as it is yours,” he scoffed, eyes hard with resolve. “Of all the things that would land me in Hell, I hardly believe this is the worst.”

You nodded, regrettably, and took a steely breath, erasing the heat the stung behind your eyes.

Then, you pulled the trigger. You waited for Chuuya’s brains to stain your floors, for the remnants of his skull to shatter all across the wall behind him. For the life to slowly drain from his stunningly bright eyes, leaving you with nothing but a corpse that would rot away wherever Dazai chose to toss his body.

Though, none of those things happened, and you stared at each other with fierce incredulity, knowing that you’d unwillingly become puppets in Dazai’s dramatic play, a show put on for no one’s entertainment but his own.

You’d been completely senseless, an idiot, really. The gun had felt lighter than usual, and you’d ignored it, even when you should’ve known it housed no bullets.

“Dazai?” you said in a low voice, dangerously, twisting to look at him from over your shoulder. An anger you’d never felt before had bubbled up inside of you, your heart thundering with a fierceness you hadn’t realized was a part of you. “There’s no bullets.”

“Obviously,” he scoffed, taking the gun away like it was but a toy, throwing it onto the armchair in the corner. “I’d never kill the strongest ability-user in the Mafia. You both should know me better by now.”

You scowled, the ugly expression marring your face, and Dazai frowned, leaning forward to appease you. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You played me for a fool. Was all of this an act?” you cried, wondering if maybe Dazai had been lying this entire time. Maybe all those sweet words he said had never been true, and you had fallen for them anyway, like the mindless pawn you were.

“Which part?” Dazai asked, but you could tell that he knew what answer you sought, what lies you wanted to unveil.

“You know which part,” you said, moving away from him, not sure what emotion to grant control. You felt an intense amount of fury, misery, and pity for yourself, who’d never asked Dazai for anything but to be on your side, and he still couldn’t give you that. “Fuck you, Dazai.”

Your lip quivered, but if you’d begun to cry, shame would swallow you up and drown you in the dark abyss of misery. You would have no other choice but to throw yourself out the window, where everyone in the Port Mafia could bear witness to all the ways that Dazai had ruined you.

“Boss—”

Chuuya’s sentence was cut off sharply.

You’d tried to climb out of the bed, but Dazai had grabbed your wrist, stopping you before you could escape from him once and for all. Though he spoke to Chuuya, his eyes were hard on you, never leaving the set he stared into as you swallowed over and over, trying to think of anything but the sick feeling in your chest.

“You can leave now, Chuuya. Consider this your lucky day.” His voice was icy, threatening, and though Chuuya lingered a moment before climbing to his feet, he spared you nothing but a small glance in return.

You inhaled, then exhaled, trying to stop the simmering of blood within your veins, feeling the heavy weight of his hand on your wrist. As you sat there in silence, waiting for him to be the one to break it, you started to wonder how much of this was really Dazai’s fault, and how much you were the one to blame.

“It was a test.” Dazai tried to bring your attention back to him, letting only a fragment of emotion drain into his voice, though it was enough to slowly, slowly pique your fascination once more. “That was all.”

You wet your lips, though your tongue was just as papery. “So none of it was real.”

“What do you mean?” Dazai came to sit in front of you, his skin pale in the dark lighting, and you could see the cracks in his facade, and maybe this splinter in your failing relationship would slowly begin to heal itself. “Everything I said was very much real.”

His soft fingertips traveled up your arm, curling around your shoulder, across your collarbone, before settling in that delicate space between your jaw and your ear. There was a starry look in his eyes, the twin pair that had been exposed.

“Why would you do something like that to me?” you said, scrunching your face in remorse, wanting to slither away from him, even as he drew you closer, close enough to smell the expensive cologne he wore, the liquor that he favored when you were away. His hair had been freshly washed, and the smell of shampoo still lingered, even under the thin layer of sweat.

“Why would you do something like that to me?” Dazai countered, the hurt not veiled in the slightest this time, and it didn’t take a genius to know what he was talking about. Heat flooded to your cheeks, and you were looking away, wondering why he was pulling you close to his chest when he should be hating you with the passion of a thousand fiends. “How could I trust you after that?”

You parted your lips to speak, but your jaw was locked, and the inside of your mouth tasted like cotton.

“I’m not a good man,” Dazai said, kissing the shell of your ear, your temple, and you squeezed your eyes shut, clinging to his bicep. “You’ve always known this. Yet, for as often as you talk about me with disgust dripping from your words, I’ve never sought to bring you pain.” He breathed in deeply, and you buried your face into his chest, wondering how much longer it’d be before you wept. “You’ve caused me pain.”

You tried to cry out, to tell him that you never thought it would hurt him, but he’d seen the very same in you, hadn’t he? You’d never given him any indication that the coldness in his words was bothering you, that the blurred lines of your relationship were getting confusing and hurtful, and he had done the same.

“We’re not good for each other, Osamu,” you whispered quietly, your lip quivering. The weight of your voice shattered against your vocal cords.

He let out a breathy laugh, smiling against your forehead. “On the contrary, I think we’re the perfect fit.”

For what reason he believed that, you weren’t sure.

You clenched your jaw tight, but it didn’t stop the feeling of tears from overwhelming you, hot droplets that spilled heavy from your eyes, running off your chin to Dazai’s chest. Your hands shook, clenched around his arms so tightly you were sure you were breaking the skin.

Dazai pulled away, monitoring your face with concern. You hated the way he looked at you with such pity when he was the reason for such pain. Yet, you couldn’t help but curl into him, warm, never wanting to escape from his reverence. “Why are you crying, my sweet angel?”

Nausea soured your mouth, and the regret that tinged you, tainted you, was vastly overwhelming. It was horrible in a way that you’d never felt.

It struck you, then, that you’d been blind to Dazai’s every affection, too ignorant to notice the ways that they had shifted as his life did. He no longer held your hand over the table during meetings, but the chair beside his was just as grandiose, and he greeted you with something of a smile when you walked into each room. He no longer accompanied you on assignments, but you were always taken care of, in a hotel most people couldn’t afford with a partner that could singlehandedly take out a hundred men. He no longer picked you flowers from a wild field as he’d done as a boy, but the vase on the table always held a beautiful bouquet of deep, red roses, without a single wilting flower.  

Chuuya, all this time, all these years had been right. There was no use in loving Dazai if you couldn’t stand him in his darkest hour, the bitter ugly side of him that no one wanted to see.

You’d never thought about it, really, but you’d changed just as he had. Everyone in the Mafia had blood on their hands, was ruined in more ways than one, and you were no exception. If loving Dazai meant loving those parts of him, then loving you meant just the same.

The tears fell harder, and Dazai seemed panicked, stricken, always so oblivious when it came to the affairs of your heart, and sometimes he tried, but you couldn’t hate him if he didn’t.

“I’m sorry,” you said pitifully, knowing from the spoiled heart in your very chest had ruined everything. “I’m sorry.” You said it again and again until Dazai was shushing you, running a large, cool palm down your back, the only way he knew to soothe you.

“I wish I’d never done it. I wish I’d just spoken to you, asked you, anything—” you wiped your face, heavy breaths stuttering before Dazai took your hands away, and erased the tears for you. “I just thought you hated me. It was the only thing that made sense.”

Dazai smiled sadly, because no one had taught him to love. How was he to know that he’d been doing it wrong all this time. “I wish I’d seen it before. I didn’t mean to push you away.” He sighed, dropping his head to your shoulder with a weariness that he’d been born with. “I’m sorry.”

A tingling sensation began under your skin, and you were warm all over, realizing just how much that apology had meant to you. For some reason, it felt like coming home.

The strong grip that nostalgia had on you gradually began to melt away.

[diejager]

can u pretty pls write some kidnapper! konig.. where he lives streams himself non-conning fem! reader ? while perverted men and other weirdos online watch and comment about us 😛

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, porn, non-con filming, size kink, kidnapping, power imbalance, degradation, tell me if I missed any.

Pleasure, whether consensual or not, was still pleasure, it burned through your nerves with a painful throb, a loud thrum that dazed you. You writhed, your feet kicking towards the camera he placed before you, pointing it towards your debauched figure, showing the audience - all sick and twisted men and women who were as sick as your captor was - how your slick cunt took him. König - your captor, your owner, your lover, or whatever fit him in the moment - was a giant of a man, his shoulders broader and thighs thicker than any man you’ve met, his whole body so big that he couldn’t even fit in the frame of the video he was directing. 

His form swallowed you, holding you still without much trouble, the muscles of his arms tensing and his abdomen rippling when a wave of pleasure ripped through him, his loud groans and shameless growls muffled by the balaclava he wore. His scarred hands bruised your supple thighs, spreading your legs open and slung over his lap, giving him full view of your. Your tight cunt stretched around his girth with a thick base and even thicker shaft, veins pulsing and pumping blood to feed his hard-on. He never groomed, he never saw the purpose for it, leaving it knotted and stinky, the musk of sweat and something that stank of him, a wild bush wet with your slick and his cum, glistening with how much he stuffed you with and a cloudy ring growing ever darker with the amount of orgasms he pulled from you. 

“Stupid whore, ”he spat, his grip growing stronger as he bucked his hips upwards, thrusting up as he dropped you on his cock, spearing you in front of a spectators, spitting degrading words and cruel insults, “Too dumb to listen. Too dumb to understand.”

He growled out his words, grinding them through his gritted teeth as he lifting you up and dropping you down on his lap like he would with the fleshlight he used to own, pumping it with a gross amount of cum when he was forced to watch you from afar. Imagining you squealing and choking on his cock worked wonders until it didn’t, he grew hungrier and hungrier for you, leaving him starving for you until he acted out his on his urges. He took things into his hands and brought you home, to lock a pretty collar around your throat and cut his name into your flesh to show his community who you belonged to. 

“You fight, but you always come on my cock,” he rasped, lowering his head to stare at your fluttering lashes, tears falling from them and rolling down your cheeks, a temptation for his tongue to come out and lap it all up. You were always so pretty when you cried, crying and mewling over him when he fucked you, ramming his round tip into your gummy cervix and pushing his cum deeper into your womb, “Schwanz fixierte Hua.”[Cock hungry whore]

Somehow, for whatever reason, your cunt clenched around him whenever he spat an insult, demeaning you to nothing but a cocksleeve or cum-dumping hole he would use forever after this one public show made you careen over the edge. Your back arched, pushing your swollen and perky nipples out as your walls closed around his cock, feeling every curve and groove of it and milking him for a second —or was it a third load? You couldn’t remember, all that your could remember was the shape of him, his rough handling and how sickening it was when he confessed that he broke into your appartement over the month and shared his plans he decided to enact. 

“Kan Stress Mausi. I werd mi guad um di kümman, und don zag i earna, dass’d mia g’heast. Klingt doch guad, oda?, “He whispered sweet promises as he pumped you full, his cock twitching as his body shook with the strength of it. He pressed a long and soft kiss to your cheek, a cruel smile curling the corners of his lips. [Don’t worry, mouse. I’ll take good care of you, then show them you’re mine. Good, yes?]

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[crepes-suzette-373]

Not having "Emotions" 感情 or "Emotions" 情: Germa 66/Vinsmokes

Analysing the 3 Vinsmoke boys, because Oda-sensei should know that things like disgust or anger are also "emotions", and Ichiji/Niji/Yonji all have displayed "emotions". Negative ones, but emotions all the same. So there might be something else going on.

In the raw, there is actually a difference in the exact words that they say the boys don't/shouldn't have. I feel that this is might be important, because that's the way kanji is. The nuance of the word usage can be different depending on the context.

When the Germa scientists say that Sanji should not have "emotions", the word they use is「感情」, which does mean all emotions for the most part (including things like anger, joy, etc).

However, Sora says don't take their "heart" 心 away. When you say someone is heartless, it doesn't mean that they have no "emotions", but they have no "pity" or "compassion".

Reiju also says that what is removed from them is just「情」, not 「感情」. 情 is emotion, but also specifically have the connotation of empathy, sympathy and compassion.

The same word when she says she "still has it" in contrast to the boys:

And lastly, from Sanji himself, calling his brothers "monsters with no blood or tears" 血も涙もない. This idiom means the same as "heartless" or "cold-blooded", meaning no mercy, no sympathy, no pity, no compassion. It does not mean "absolutely zero emotions", unless additional context specifies so.

My conclusion is that either Oda-sensei has been playing word games, or there's a slip-up in translation. The boys seems to actually do have emotions. What they don't have are empathy, sympathy, conscience, and fear. Just look at them casually throwing themselves off the roof, and laughing off their potential deaths.

The reason why they act so cruel might be because they have no innate conscience, so they just parrot and follow whatever Judge told them.

And, since Reiju said she was reprogrammed to always obey, I suspect there's a little bit of that in the other boys too. See Niji, freeze-stopping his kick mid-air because Judge says no:

(the force of it was so strong that Cossette, behind Sanji, was blown away)

What they do to Sanji is really horrible, but little kids brawl and beat up each other all the time. It's the adults who have to teach them "don't do that". Without anyone telling them no, and Judge even permitting it, of course Ichiji and the others act the way that they do.

I think there is the possibility that the boys might still have the ability to feel genuine affection inside them (since, you know, having affection for someone is honestly nothing to do with compassion or mercy). They just might not know what that feeling is, because they've never been taught to understand that.

There's Niji and Yonji being worried when Reiju and Judge were hit:

And the whole "Emotionless Excursion" cover story sideplot.

This is why I say Ichiji and Niji are acting like particularly evil tsundere dumbasses. For all their horrible comments, they're clearly capable of feeling concern. Ichiji less obviously so than Niji, but same difference.

We'll wait and see, I guess, what exactly is the extent of the 情 that is missing from those three.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Dazai Osamu (self-aware)

Self-Aware! Dazai Osamu x GN! Reader

Warning: Yandere. Spoiler for Dazai's past. Spoilers for "Dazai and Chuuya, Fifteen", "STORM BRINGER", "Day I pick up Dazai", "Dazai Osamu and Dark Era". Mentions of torture. Misunderstanding (Dazai thinks, that Reader enjoys their suffering and that's why read BSD manga). OOC. English is my second language.

Becoming self-aware

🪢🦀 Dazai Osamu gained self-awareness, when he was visiting Oda's grave.

🪢🦀 For others, first moments of been self-aware were full of fear, confusion, anger.

🪢🦀 For Dazai Osamu they were full of thinking.

🪢🦀 While others try to ignore the revelation, Dazai dived into it.

🪢🦀 Dazai tries to remember everything, he could.

🪢🦀 His childhood, days with Mafia, two years of hiding. Two years of working in ADA.

🪢🦀 Childhood - nothing. Like he appeared in the thin air in Mori's clinic.

🪢🦀 Days with Mafia - Previous Port Mafia Boss death, Arahabaki Incident, The King of Assassins Incident, His First meeting with Oda, Dragon's Head Conflict, Mimic's arrival to Yokohama and Oda's death.

🪢🦀 Two years of hiding - nothing.

🪢🦀 Two years of working with ADA - Azure Apostle case and everything after he met with Atsushi.

🪢🦀 Dazai feel emptier than usual. Can he be seen as human, if his memories are limited to certain events?

🪢🦀 Dazai feel anger. So much anger. He was created as a person, who is tired of this life, who seek death just for someone's entertainment? Was Oda killed, just for someone's entertainment?

🪢🦀 Why someone created him to be a lonely person? For what purpose?

🪢🦀 When Dazai arrived at the Agency, he saw his colleagues. Lost, confused. With little flame of hope in their hearts. They hope, that it's just someone's ability. That they are real. Dazai's appearance was the thing, that destroyed this hope.

🪢🦀 He could try to pretend. Lie to them, that they are right. That it's all just an ability.

🪢🦀 But he can't.

🪢🦀 Because abilities don't work on him. Because he told them himself. And not because he l try to hurt them. Not because he lashed out on them. It wasn't a misdirect anger.

🪢🦀 Because, in this situation, hope that was born out of a lie, won't do them any good.

"It's not an ability. Yokohama wasn't broken. We are broken. We are fictional characters, who gained self-awareness. Try to remember your lives. Parents, friends outside ADA, what you did yesterday. Give it a try"

🪢🦀 Anger. Confusion. Fear. It was cruel from Dazai. But, again, lie won't do them good.

🪢🦀 At least now, they would try to deal with this situation accordingly.

🪢🦀 They moved dorms to the same building as the office.

🪢🦀 They tried to find a solution.

🪢🦀 Dazai was patrolling the city from time to time. That's when he met Chuuya and Hirotsu. They were searching for answers. Just like ADA. All, who is left from Port Mafia were searching for answers.

🪢🦀 They couldn't find any.

🪢🦀 Dazai's anger didn't lessen. He still was angry at people, to whom his existence was amusing. To whom Oda's death was entertaining.

🪢🦀 And then, one day, he felt an entity's gaze on him.

____________

Dazai Osamu has a feeling, that this entity ether were the one, who created them, or the one, for whom they were created.

If so many of them had a terrible past, does it mean it amuses The Entity?

Few days later, Atsushi came to him.

"Dazai-san... Do you feel it? Like... someone is staring at us?" Atsushi was nervous. He was looking around, trying to see the strange entity.

Dazai's voice was emotionless.

"Yes, Atsushi-kun. I feel it"

All of them feel it. When Dazai ran into Chuuya and Hirotsu again, they also confirm, that they feel its gaze. It was safe to assume, that other organizations also feel its gaze.

Something from out of there. Something from a different world.

They have no means to get to it.

He has no means to catch it. To make it talk. To make it sorry, for liking suffering.

Dazai Osamu may not be a part of Mafia anymore, but he still remembers, how to torture people.

It will be destroyed. Dazai will make sure of it.

ADA noticed, that he was ready to destroy. Doesn't matter. He will do it to avenge them, to avenge himself, to avenge Oda.

But one day, time reset.

And he, once again, was a fifteen-year-old boy, who was sent by Mori to investigate the sudden appearance of the previous Port Mafia Boss.

_____________

When they start feeling your presence

🪢🦀 Do the Entity try to get a rise out of him?

🪢🦀 Do the Entity wanted to enjoy their suffering once again?

🪢🦀 Dazai's gaze wasn't the friendliest. It also seems, that Mori also understand, that the time has reset. Ougai himself looked uncomfortable. Dazai doesn't care, if it was because of Dazai's glare or because of time reset. Dazai snatched the silver oracle from the Mori's hands and wanted to storm out of his office.

🪢🦀 The Entity. This cursed gaze in the sky. The gaze, that he wasn't feeling.

🪢🦀 Dazai stopped and looked around. No more gaze in the sky. No more imposing entity. But, there was something more. It feels like, something was floating above them. Something close to a human. It was talking.

"young..." "scare..." "Mori..." "what..." "happened..."

🪢🦀 So, The Entity can talk. Their voice sounded quiet. Barely recognizable. And, still, so human. And it was reacting to his actions. Does it react to the words too? It seems, Mori had the same idea. Once again, he asked.

"Dazai-kun, I don't know if I can understand it, but tell me―why do you want to die?"

And, once again, Dazai asked in return

"Tell me this. Do you really think that there’s any value in the act of living?"

Some static. And words.

"why..." "child..." "in that age..."

🪢🦀 The Entity was confused. And, it seems, it was curious about him.

🪢🦀 In any case, Dazai can spend some time observing it.

🪢🦀 It's time to investigate Arahabaki Incident/Previous Port Mafia Boss appearance once again.

________________

🪢🦀 The Entity was watching. It was amused by his bickering with Chuuya. It was cheering, when he won the video game against Chuuya.

🪢🦀 And it was worried. It was worried about both of them, when they were fighting with Rando.

____________

"In the surface world, the world of light, death is generally kept hidden from everyday life because it's unpleasant. But in the mafia's world, it's different. Death is just an extension and a part of everyday life. And I think that's probably right. Because 'dying' isn't the opposite of 'living', it's nothing more than a feature incorporated into 'living'. Breathe, eat, fall in love, die. You have to observe death up close to understand the whole picture of living."

And Dazai heard the voice. Clearer, than earlier, but still, not entirely recognizable.

"Dazai [|||||||||||||||||||||] point. Still [|||||||||||||||||] dark. But, [|||] fine, if it works for him."

Dazai feels, like he was covered in something nice and soft. The Entity's emotions were strong. And sincere.

An acceptance. Not judging. Not trying to pry.

_____________

🪢🦀 The Entity... It was observing, but it didn't try to pry. It was okay, with simply looking.

🪢🦀 But most important thing - The Entity was sad. The Entity was sad, that Randou has died.

🪢🦀 Was he mistaken? It doesn't seem that The Entity liked suffering.

🪢🦀 And it didn't seem malicious.

🪢🦀 Okay, it's either doing a good job hiding its true intentions, or their first reaction, before time reset, were a little bit overboard.

🪢🦀 Dazai feel calmer, than before. Chuuya and Mori also don't seem as angry as they were before.

🪢🦀 Dazai still doesn't trust The Entity. But he was curious about it.

🪢🦀 The Entity... What was it? What kind of person they really are?

🪢🦀 Time reset once again.

🪢🦀 Dazai, once again, was a sixteen-year-old boy, who used his ability to save Chuuya.

____________

🪢🦀 This time, The Entity didn't stick. It seems, it was more interested in staying with Chuuya.

🪢🦀 Dazai feels The Entity again, when Verlaine came to his 'home' to take the documents. And when Port Mafia start an operation to kill Verlaine.

🪢🦀 Dazai was fine with it. Now he has more time to think.

🪢🦀 Dazai hoped, that The Entity will be scared by his "betrayal" of the mafia.

🪢🦀 That it will be scared of him.

🪢🦀 It wasn't. It didn't judge. It just accepts it.

🪢🦀 The King of Assassins Incident ended the same way. But one thing was different. Both Verlaine and Chuuya looked at peace. Dazai was sure, he heard, that Verlaine want to hear them again. And Chuuya was mumbling something about 'protecting them'.

🪢🦀 The Entity... He was ready to accept it. But, he needs to see something more. Just one more time.

🪢🦀 Time resets again.

🪢🦀 And Dazai woke up on the bed in Oda's house. Oda was standing there.

And a shapeless Light Blob was floating above them.

___________

🪢🦀 For the first few moments, Dazai didn't know what to say.

🪢🦀 Oda is alive. The Entity now is a Blob of Light.

🪢🦀 ... His memories. Dazai didn't want to think about it, but... What if the next time, The Entity will choose time when Mimic arrived at Yokohama?

🪢🦀 Does The Entity wanted to torture him and Oda?

🪢🦀 Dazai wanted to curse this creature, when Oda spoke, pointing at the Light Blob.

"Dazai, do you know, who are this? This Light Blob sounds adorable."

______________

The talk he has with Oda was long. Dazai told Oda about everything he knew about The Entity.

And about thinking, that The Entity was evil.

Oda's voice was calm.

"I don't think so, Dazai. We may be fictional characters. But, reading a book about a fictional character with a sad past doesn't mean, that The Reader enjoys suffering. Or, you don't think, that there's nothing interesting in us, except our suffering?"

Oda's shift his gaze to the Light Blob, that was floating above them. He tried to pet it, but his fingers go through it.

"You know, what I feel from them? Sadness. It feels like a mountain spring. They aren't bad. They just a human."

____________

🪢🦀 Just a human...

🪢🦀 Dazai stayed with Oda for a few more days.

🪢🦀 The Entity... Light Blob, spend most of the time with Oda. Blob was laying on Odasaku's head. Oda doesn't seem to mind its company.

🪢🦀 Oda spoke to Light Blob from time to time. It seems, that man enjoyed their one-sided conversations.

🪢🦀 Oda tried to encourage Dazai to spoke to the Entity, but Dazai, for now, refuses.

🪢🦀 He believes Oda and sees a point in his words. But, he prefers to stay on guard for now.

🪢🦀 Dazai heard The Reader's voice from time to time.

___________

"Pufferfish and amanita virosa [|||||||||||] heard before. Never [||||||||] about potato sprout. Another knowledge [||||||||||||||]"

"Heh. [||||||||||||||||] won again. Thought too much about your skills, Dazai?"

Dazai feels, like someone tickled him. The Entity tried to tease him.

Dazai deadpanned and looked away from the cards. He looked at the Light Blob, that was, once again, laying on Odasaku's head.

"Shush. At least I am a person, not a Light Blob. While you are in this form, no one will treat you seriously"

It takes Dazai a few moments, to realize, that he finally spoke to The Entity. Oda chuckled.

"Well, it's good enough for a first interaction."

__________

🪢🦀 Then came a run in with "48".

🪢🦀 When Dazai and Oda were trying to escape, the Light Blob were floating ahead. Lighting their way. Like a guiding light.

🪢🦀 The Entity was worried, when Dazai was poisoned.

🪢🦀 And when Dazai and Oda came to bar "Lupin" for the first time, the Light Blob was floating above them.

🪢🦀 Dazai thought, that it would be nice if The Entity can hear them and talk to them.

🪢🦀 It would be great to talk to them, to play poker with them, to talk to them.

🪢🦀 And time reset once again.

🪢🦀 Mimic came to Yokohama.

________________

🪢🦀 Ango's betrayal, Orphans' death, Mori's plan.

🪢🦀 And The Entity's sorrow. The Entity's sadness, that felt like a mountain spring.

🪢🦀 Oda wasn't mad at The Entity. Dazai also can't bring himself to be mat at them.

🪢🦀 And, once again, Oda died.

____________

Oda was dead. And the flood of emotions falls on Dazai.

The Entity was crying.

The Light Blob became bigger.

The figure made of light

That hugged him.

Then, Dazai heard their words.

"sorry" "poor kids, poor Oda, poor everyone" "if only I can"

"I am so sorry, Dazai... So sorry... Oda was a good person. And I believe, that you can be a good person too"

Dazai feels something wet on his shoulder.

[In reality, your tears drop on LN's pages.]

Dazai was stunned. They were so human... They are real. Not in this world, but they are real.

They treat him, and others, as humans.

Dazai try to look up at the figure of light. You were there. You were with him during his past. You did not to enjoy his suffering. But to be with him. To support him.

And now, you, just as Oda, were a sigh of a better future.

The emotions, the sympathy. He wished, he would be near you.

He will gather others. All of them will come to your world.

Dazai whispers: "Guiding Light... My Dear Guiding Light. Don't be afraid. With us by your side, you will never be in danger. You will always be happy."

To be with you. To someone so human and understanding.

Because near you, he feels that he is a real human being.

Few days after, time resets again.

And Dazai, once again, was floating down the river, right before Atsushi saved him.

__________

🪢🦀 When Dazai was sure, that all ADA liked you, he proposed to start searching for a way to your world.

🪢🦀 Dazai was the one, who proposed to create The Union.

🪢🦀 Dazai will make sure, that all people, who joins them, likes Their Dear Guiding Light. He won't let anyone lay a finger on them. He will train Atsushi and Akutagawa to be your bodyguards.

🪢🦀 The Union creation was a success. But they still haven't found a way to your world.

But then, one day, the purple moon shined above Yokohama.

_____________________

When you installed BSD Mayoi Inu Kaikitan

🪢🦀 All Dazai cards have passive talents, that will be activated when marble destroy one orb.

"Poor Dazai, have to lay on newspaper, until I raise Sofa's level enough"

"Tengu Dazai look so pretty!"

"Year of the Tiger animation is so cute!"

🪢🦀 Dazai likes, when you're using his cards.

🪢🦀 Dazai will rig the event scouts, so you will get his cards first.

🪢🦀 Rigged Chuuya's Birthday Scout, so you will get anyone, but Chuuya.

🪢🦀 It failed, because, Chuuya send you his cards in Gift Box.

🪢🦀 When you got Oda's SSR card from scout, and Oda appeared in the ADA office, well and alive (just a little dizzy), Dazai was ready to simply knock out the screen of your phone and hoped, that he will get into your world. At that moment, he wanted to embrace you and never let go.

🪢🦀 When BSD characters gain access to the rest of your phone, Dazai will often browse the Internet with you.

🪢🦀 Doesn't matter, what you are looking at, he just keeps you company.

🪢🦀 Won't let you leave likes under dog's photos and videos.

🪢🦀 He is waiting for the day, when they came to your world.

🪢🦀 He will make sure, that your life will be happy.

__________

You noticed another notification from The Gift Box.

Another note with new SSR card. Of Dazai and Oda playing poker. There was a strange light blob floating above them.

"[Y/N], dear, thank you for bringing Oda back. Thank you for been near. Lets one day spend time together. You. Me. And Oda. We are waiting for that day. Please, wait for us. Dazai Osamu"

You smile and open the new card. You pet Dazai's sprite.

"I will wait, Dazai. Will be happy to spend time with you and Oda."

You didn't notice, that Dazai's sprite looked at you. And that his mouth was moving. And, of course, you couldn't hear his words.

"It's a promise, Dear Guiding Light."

[soupthatistohot]

BSD 110: An Absurdist Analysis

The fate of Aya Kōda

Since my post analyzing BSD 109 in accordance with Asagiri's absurdist storytelling got so much love, I've decided to continue analyzing the chapters thru an absurdist lens when I deem it relevant, and making predictions accordingly. I think that not only is it an effective way of reading BSD, it gives us readers a bit more hope that things will turn out okay when the plot is... like it is right now (lol).

I recommend checking out my BSD 109 post if you haven't already this since I explain the philosophy of the absurd in depth there :)

BSD 110 spoilers below!! Obviously! Also TW for discussion of suicide.

So. I really don't think the ten year-old girl is going to die.

On top of Aya being "the last hope" (more on that later), suicide is one of those things that absurdists really frown upon.

Aya's plan as I understand it right now is to add her weight to the table in order to pull the sword from Bram's body, this is why she jumps. If this works, the sword will be dislodged and she, the sword and the table would fall to the ground, which is very far below -- she would likely die upon impact.

Absurdists really don't like suicide as a solution to hopeless situations, most absurdist storytellers have their characters commit suicide because they have "given up". It's submission, giving into the meaninglessness of our reality rather than rebelling against and embracing the absurd.

We see this with Oda in Dark Era, his suicide mission is framed as him giving up on life because the orphans were killed. Of course, it also served as catalyst for Dazai's character development, compelling him to escape a situation that would have likely ended up in his own eventual suicide. All this to say that even though Asagiri chose to make Oda go on a suicide mission, the overall narrative purpose still lent itself to absurdism through Dazai's decision to defect. It needed to happen for the story to move forward as it has (and as we know from BEAST, there literally cannot be a universe in which both Oda and Dazai are alive).

So, if Aya dies now, what message does this send? It's almost certain that the world will literally end if she does, meaning that everyone's efforts up until this point have all been for naught, which, as I explained in my BSD 109 post, is the opposite of the entire point of BSD as an absurdist text. Aya is really the "last hope" right now, with all our other main characters pretty much screwed or just not present.

"Nothing is impossible for a warrior of justice. We beat the bad guys and save the world, no matter what happens."

What Aya says right here is something I'd liken to the Dazai quote I brought up with my BSD 109 analysis: "The ones who actually make the world turn are those who scream within the storm of uncertainty and run with flowing blood." Both communicate the idea that there's never an acceptable point in time to give up (suicide), that there's always something more that you can do, even when things seem bleak. Those who "make the world turn" are one in the same with Aya's concept of "warriors of justice."

Aya may not succeed exactly the way we expect her to, but she absolutely is not dying like this. On top of the absurdist storytelling reasons, she's just a child. Of course, we know Asagiri isn't above killing kids, but Aya is a bit different than the other children we've met in BSD. Her character has been built up and developed, she has a fleshed-out backstory, and we've spent a lot of time with her. To kill off a little girl we've come to care about a lot would just be cruel, plus her death wouldn't really serve a narrative purpose right now.

So, what could happen?

One prediction is that Aya adding her weight to the table does dislodge the sword and she falls, but she is saved by another character. We know Kenji and Tecchou are out there right now, we haven't seen Yosano or Kyouka in ages, etc. etc.. Basically, there are definitely people out there that could come to her rescue.

But there's an option I like a lot better: Aya's ability manifests.

Aya Kōda was a 20th century Japanese novelist and essayist, and the namesake for the Aya we know in BSD. As far as we know, all the characters who are named after real-life authors possess an ability inspired by the life/work of said author. Aya doesn't have an ability yet, so logic follows that she will develop one by the end of the series.

I'm not sure where I read this, so take it with a grain of salt, but I believe that in BSD the character's abilities manifest because of trauma. Not only does Aya live in a somewhat emotionally abusive household, but she's literally been thrust into the middle of a conflict in which the world could literally end and has decided to jump off of a tall building to try to save the world -- I'd say that's pretty traumatizing!

I'm not familiar with the irl Aya Kōda's works enough to speculate about what her ability would actually do, but there's a decent chance that because of the current situation, her special ability will manifest in order to prevent her from dying and/or dislodge the sword from Bram. This would also fit absurdist storytelling very well, she's literally doing jumping off a building as a complete last ditch effort, it's a crazy plan that probably won't work -- but her other option is to just accept death, and that's not acceptable. If she were to manifest her ability in this moment, it would reinforce the idea that rebelling against the absurd has value, that even when things seem at their worst there's always something you can do.

Anyway, these are just my thoughts! Please feel free to add anything you find relevant, especially if you're familiar with Aya's irl counterpart! See you next month ;)

Here's the BSD 110 translation I pulled the panels from.

[nakahras]

᯽ cop car • oda sakunosuke

synopsis • a chronicle telling of your life before having a relationship with odasaku, during your relationship with odasaku and after your relationship with odasaku

warnings • lower case is intentional, canon compliant, mcd, angst, depictions of anxiety/panic attacks, reader has an ability (description below), fem!reader

wc • 2.8k

a/n • odasaku makes me really sad and i just needed you guys to be sad with me ig </3

᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽

ability • fujyo no kagami/a great example of women: allows the user to apply endless perfect actions to something/someone that’s considered feminine. user can apply this rule to herself as a woman. if applied to something/someone masculine the ability takes on the opposite effect. a rule is applied where every action taken results in failure. user cannot apply this rule to herself.

᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽���᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽

before

you were terrified all the time. like a scared animal overwhelmed by its own mind, you would snap, and you would bite. even while climbing the ranks of an organization like the port mafia, you felt alone. you would never blame anyone else for it though. how could you when you so plainly knew how unapproachable you were.

your face was permanently sketched into a scowl. your attitude was less than savory. your arms always folded across your chest in annoyance. your foot tapping impatiently whenever someone was talking just a little too long for your liking. your bad attitude deterred any chances of connecting with someone.

you were accustomed to it. becoming the port mafia’s assassin made it easy to lurk in the dark. that meant going places most people didn’t like to follow. most being the key word there.

there was one persistent person that fought his way into your life. your bared teeth and unsheathed claws never being a deterrent for him. he was crazy, maybe even had a death wish.

it was the only explanation you had for him never backing down.

you had your fair share of run-ins with other children assassins. this one in particular, though, always stood out amongst the rest. he had burnt umber hair and deep dark blue eyes that seemed to look right through you. oda sakunosuke, at least that’s what he had introduced himself as. after letting you take the kill and bounty money on several occasions. he was a gentleman even at a young age.

you were ruthless though. you would take advantage of his kindness knowing exactly why he was so generous with you. he felt bad, the pity seeped from his pores and clogged your senses. it made you want to be cruel. so you were. you never showed him an ounce of gratitude.

oda sakunosuke never asked for it, he waited patiently for you to be ready.

᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽

during

he teases you constantly for it. how hostile you used to be. fighting tooth and nail to keep him at arm's length. you would try to stay mad at him for it but when you saw the way his face would light up when he lets out a genuine and hearty laugh you would immediately melt. how could you keep up the facade when he looked so beautiful laughing like that.

it had been quite some time now, since he joined the port mafia. almost 3 years.

you tried to avoid him at first. sure, he was familiar but he was a lower rank than you, there was no reason for him to “accidentally” run into you on most of your missions. he didn’t even kill anymore, so, how did he think he could be helpful? he was of course. he had your back when you were just a little too overwhelmed. eventually you swallowed your pride and showed your appreciation by inviting him out for drinks.

bar lupin. that was the name of the bar oda asked you to meet him at. he said he was bringing a plus one, offering that you could bring someone of your choosing too if you’d like. you felt embarrassed when you had to tell him that you didn’t have anyone to invite. the one person you had was far too young to go to a bar with you. hell, you were almost too young, but you didn’t want to spend today alone. that’s the whole reason you set this up for today specifically.

you walk down the stairs only to be met with…confetti? you draw your face back in shock and blink a few times before you realize it’s oda who just let off a little confetti popper next to you. you don’t even take note of your surroundings and just hone in on him. you give him a look as if he’d just spontaneously grew another head. oda quickly hides the evidence behind his back but it’s clearly too late for that.

“...was that?” he can’t have known what that specific day was, right? there is no way. at least that’s what you told yourself until you heard a distinct voice chime in from across the bar.

“i advised him against it. i’m honestly shocked you didn’t tackle him to the ground for that one.” ango sakaguchi, the top intelligence agent for the port mafia. if anyone knew what today's significance was, it would be him.

you let out a sigh. you’d had a few dealings with ango, so you were somewhat familiar with him. despite his slightly older age, you spoke with him casually. “i suppose this is your doing, sakaguchi?”

“i just thought it made for good conversation. i was right, of course.” ango shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his beverage.

you looked over at oda who had a sheepish look on his face. at least he had the decency to look embarrassed. you thought to yourself. you shake your head but couldn’t help the endearment that rose in your stomach and settled in your chest to spread an unfamiliar warmth. you looked back at oda expectantly, trying your best to bite back a threatening smile.

“well? are you gonna at least say it?” you cross your arms over your chest and raise a brow at the former assassin.

oda lost his voice for a moment, he didn’t think he had ever seen you so… relaxed. it took him a moment but he finally managed to croak out, “happy birthday, precious.”

“just for that stunt you pulled when i walked in, you’re buying me a drink.” you said quickly as you turned around, trying desperately to hide how red your face got all because of a simple pet name. you’ve heard him use them before with others but never directed towards you and never specifically the word precious. you quickly took a seat one stool away from ango, leaving the middle for oda.

a few hours pass and you’re on your 4th drink, not counting the 3 shots oda fed you slyly. ever the gentleman though, he would make sure to take one with you. it was safe to say you were beyond feeling just a little tipsy. your face was hot and tongue felt heavy but that didn’t stop you from arguing with ango over some subject you don’t even remember. ango just had such a disagreeable face when you were this many drinks in.

oda watched with such fondness in his eyes, he had always wanted to see you this relaxed, craved it even. it’s been so long that he’s felt this way about you that he can’t even remember a time he wasn’t infatuated with you. he doesn’t even realize it, but he has this stupid/goofy smile on his face as he watched you attentively. at some point you had moved to the middle stool so your back was to oda. you were so animated that he didn’t even care that he couldn’t see your face right now.

oda is so dazed that you startle him when you whip around and look to him expectantly. he’s taken so off guard that his face twisted into a confused grimace in the most comical way and spits out an eloquent, “heh?”

oda watched as your eyes brightened when you squinted at him. oh. you were smiling widely, the first smile he had ever seen reach your eyes like this. no, you weren’t just smiling, you were laughing. the sound was quite possibly the most beautiful thing oda had ever heard. far better than any music he would ever listen to in his lifetime, he was so sure of it. it was like a siren song and you had ensnared him in it.

after that night, oda was yours. you had successfully trapped him and he had no plans of escaping any time soon.

᯽•᯽

he was yours, that was, until ango betrayed you all and mimic surfaced and oda lost virtually everything in a single moment.

it was early when he came to you. he’d just lost his family, the five children you had begun to see as your own and help him raise had been taken from you far too early. you cried — no, that was an understatement. you wailed from the depths of your soul. life was so unfair. it took quite some time for you to calm down. when you did, you saw the dull, almost lifeless, look in oda’s eyes. of course he had told you the whole story, so immediately you knew where his mind was going.

the panic took root in your chest and spread across your entire body. you felt in your stomach in the form of twists and knots. you felt it in your throat in the form of bile burning your throat, threatening to be released. you felt it in your nervous system in the form of hyperactivity, your limbs shaking uncontrollably. you reached out with trembling fingers and desperately clutched onto the material at oda’s chest.

“no- no, sakunosuke. you can’t- it’s not- i can’t lose you too.” your mind was working too fast for your mouth to catch up. every thought soaring through the forefront of your brain getting lost in translation.

he didn’t look at you, he didn’t say anything. he knew if he looked at you right then and there he would fold, he’d give in and that was just something he couldn’t allow himself to do.

you became more desperate, bringing him closer and shifting your hands to hold his face. “sakunosuke, look at me. you can’t do this. not alone. i won’t ask you to not go but, please, let me go with you.”

“no.” that caught his attention. he looked at you sharply and spoke firmly.

you looked at him with wide and watery eyes. “you can’t go alone. if i go…it’ll be safer if i go. please don’t go alone. i can’t let you go alone.” you weren’t breathing. or maybe you were? it felt as though your lungs weren’t receiving any oxygen. they burned as you gasped for air. everything felt as though you were free falling, the adrenaline from it setting all of your nerves on fire. it was frustrating, you were losing your mind over losing your heart — practically your soul.

after a moment there was a glint of remorse that set in his deep blue eyes. he held you again until you were calm enough to hear him out. “are you able to listen to me?”

“no, i have no interest in anything you have to say to me right now, odasaku. i just want you to stay.” your eyes were pleading with him, voice begging him to just listen to you.

who knew a simple shake of the head could shatter your heart in one blow. “i can’t. i have to do this, precious.”

“don’t. don’t call me that right now. not when you-” you choked on another sob, you had lost count of how many tears you’d shed that morning. “let me go with you then. i could ensure your safety. you don’t have to go alone.”

he didn’t think his own heart could break more than it already had. the desperation that bled into your repeated words proved him wrong. “i have to do this on my own. it has to be done alone. someone has to look over that little punk.”

“dazai will never forgive me if i let you go.” you were grasping at straws, silently praying something would convince oda to not go.

oda sighed and you knew you had already lost. you had no chance of winning this. “maybe not at first, but he will. eventually, he will.”

you’d resorted to sobbing again, you were honestly surprised with yourself, you didn’t think you had this many tears to shed. “just…kiss me one more time. before you go, please.”

and how was he supposed to refuse such a simple final request of him when he was asking the world of you. he held your face gingerly and crashed his lips to yours. the kiss was wet and his lips tasted salty from the mixture of both your tears. he was crying too. he poured everything he had left in his heart out into a single kiss. it lasted exactly 7 seconds before oda was pulling away completely. he doesn’t look back as he pushed himself up. you crumbled completely to the ground and even as oda closed the front door of your home behind him he could hear the heart breaking sobs and wails that tore from your throat.

you didn’t think you would ever have to live without odasaku. the reality of it hit you in an instant. you would be living in it, a world after odasaku and you would continue living in for the rest of your own life.

᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽

after

it had been 3 days. you were numb all over. your chest ached where your heart used to be. you’re sure it was still there, just laying in small pieces. the service had ended an hour ago but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave.

you heard familiar footsteps approaching you. you didn’t need to look at him to know who it was.

“you shouldn’t be here, traitor.” your voice was flat, no emotion behind it. you couldn’t even bring yourself to sound betrayed.

ango almost winced at how tired you sounded. “i figured you could be found here. i wanted to pay my respects too. despite my actions, i valued his friendship.”

you looked at him sharply. how dare he have the audacity to still call him a friend? how dare he be so bold when you couldn’t even bring yourself to say his name. you’ve tried, but the moment oda slipped out of your arms that day, every moment afterwards you would choke on his name. you were so tired of crying, so you couldn’t bring yourself to try anymore.

“did you do what i asked of you?”

“yes. you know dazai won’t like you following him…”

you let your head fall back and shut your eyes. breathing in the fresh air and enjoying the sea breeze, you almost forgot where you were. standing at oda’s freshly buried grave. “i’m quite aware of his distaste for me.”

“so then why go? why ask me to wipe your slate clean?” ango’s tone is so incredulous, he didn’t understand but you expected as much from him. he had his faults and one of them was his selfishness, something you could never quite get past.

“because he asked me to, it was his last wish of me. he was failed by so many people in life, how could i possibly fail him in death?” the treacherous man opened his mouth as if to argue but you shook your head and cut him off. “that’s a rhetorical question, ango. the answer is: i can’t. i suppose i’ll see you again someday. take care until then. i’ll never forgive you if you die by another's hand…”

with that you seemingly disappeared. there was almost no trace left of you. the only tell that you were still present was the fresh bouquet of flowers appearing at oda’s gravestone every week.

you resurface a year and a half later, finding yourself in front of the armed detective agency. it wasn’t planned. you weren’t supposed to show up in front of their office door for another year. but you happened across a man your age, although he resembled a much younger man. he introduced himself as ranpo and invited you back after requesting your help with a case.

you were welcomed with open arms. you had found a new family. it terrified you.

six months later dazai joined the ada. he was not pleased by your presence but he pretended it didn’t bother him. no one was the wiser. except for you of course. you gave him the space he needed but still looked out for him from a distance. he came around eventually. after all, you were all he had left of odasaku.

he was even there for you when you had a mental break down about falling in love again. you’d promised yourself you would never love another man but the universe had a sick and twisted sense of humor. it wasn’t a man you had fallen head over heals for, it was yosano akiko who had caught your attention. she was patient with you and gave you the space you needed.

you eventually found yourself at his grave stone on a rainy day.

“i met someone. i made good on my promise, it’s not another man. her name is yosano, i think you would have gotten along with her. dazai thinks the world of her. i’m scared… the last time i loved someone this deeply… what do i do?”

as if to give you his blessing, the storm that had been raging for 3 days slows and comes to a complete stop. you let out an incredulous laugh. for the first time in years you utter his name.

“thank you, sakunosuke.”

[melonteee]

Just saw someone’s wacko take on Whole Cake Island and I want to see your thoughts, as I get everyone had their own opinions but damn theirs made me baffled

Basically they said that Sanji being forced into marriage was completely unnecessary and was Oda’s terrible attempt to “fix” Sanji after the time skip. That we didn’t need to see how good of a person Sanji is as that was something already seen pre timeskip but was completely ruined post apparently

They then also claimed that Sanji’s blood family has no point of existing, and they questioned why he needed more story when his original backstory was enough. They claimed that this was a terrible attempt by Oda to make Sanji seem as broken as possible to apparently excuse his gross behaviour post time skip

They said that Sanji’s family being emotionless monsters shouldn’t mean anything to Sanji as he’s a pirate and faces cruel people all the time, they don’t think it added anything to his character. They believe Oda only did this to get people to like Sanji again after apparently assassinating his character post time skip

They also brought up Pudding being 16 (which we don’t know is true or not) and how that makes Sanji seem more gross and Oda gross by extension

Again I believe everyone can have their opinions, but when an opinion is as jaw droopingly awful as this it makes me want to slam my head against a wall, it’s also annoying that they’ve turned off comments to prevent any discussion really showing how stubborn they are on this

Anyway I wanted to see your thoughts as you are the no.1 Sanji fan

Sighssssss I cannot stand this "Oda wanted to 'fix' Sanji" idea these people have, because that just tells me...they literally do not pay attention to Sanji at all.

As always, yes, Sanji has pervy gags. Yes, he was a bit much in Fishman Island SPECIFICALLY, but he IS the same character.

Fishman Island showed his fierce care and love for Nami as a CREWMATE by telling Jinbe what the fuck Arlong did to her, because he was LITERALLY there for Arlong's defeat and nearly died with the others fighting for Nami! He spoke up for Nami as FAMILY and that means a LOT to her.

Punk Hazard showed his kindness towards Kinemon and the kids by helping Kinemon - a dangerous stranger - and helping the kids per Nami's request.

Dressrosa showed Sanji's kindness is so valued due to Viola breaking down and feeling safe with him, to the point she told him the truth about Dressrosa and Doflamingo.

Zou showed JUST how kind Sanji is by helping save an ENTIRE island, Pedro valuing his kindness SO MUCH he risked his life to help get Sanji back to his crew.

Sanji has never needed fixing, what Sanji NEEDED was an explanation for why the fuck he was a kid by himself on a sailing ship. He NEEDED an explanation for HOW he could be a kid from the north but somehow be in the east. He NEEDED an explanation for why he was so self sacrificing to the point he thought of giving his life - not just for Zeff, but for ANYONE - seemed like the best choice to him.

Yes, it wouldn't be a question if it was just for Zeff and the Baratie. But it wasn't just for Zeff, he also did it for Usopp, for Luffy, for Nami, for Zoro, for Robin. Sanji's self sacrificing nature was ROOTED in him, and we had no idea from WHERE.

In fact, his self worth was so little, he asked a LITERAL ADULT why he was being nice to him - when he was a KID! And as I said in my Sanji video, WHAT kid asks why an adult is treating them nicely? NO other kid in One Piece has asked an adult that, because they're kids!

The fact it was suspected Sanji's family were powerful from YEARS ago, due to the fact his face wasn't on posters, AND Duval was being endlessly chased after, AND Sanji was from the north, AND his blood type was rare, says plenty enough that it was TOTALLY necessary.

Sanji literally finds his worth in other people, and again, that didn't stem from Zeff! Zeff treasured Sanji to the point Zeff used his HANDS on him, so WHERE does this self-hating nature come from with Sanji?

And we get it! We get it with his WCI story! We see the depths of his soul, the peaks of his kindness, and just how extreme the HATRED for himself is. He didn't even think Luffy WANTED him because his self worth is THAT low.

But, most importantly, we see JUST how strong Sanji is due to STAYING kind - even WITH everything he's gone through. WCI is about SANJI'S strength of character, through and through, and calling that unnecessary is just INSANE to me. Again, it just tells me these people do not like Sanji at all, to the point they didn't pay much attention to him. Because of COURSE when you don't look behind you, but then someone appears in front of you, you're gonna go "?? now where did THAT come from??"

But literally anyone who pays attention to Sanji expected to find out about his family and his origins, because the seeds were there!

Overall, if you want the deep dive for why it was necessary? My Sanji video explains it all :]

[livelaughlaw3]

A really bad joke

TW : angst, sadness, physical touch, TCA, anorexia, bodyshaming (Yasopp it's always him), sickness, fluffy end <3333

You are single in this story and Shanks is only your Captain. (He has two arms because he's too smart to have lost his arm that way and Oda already said it was his editor who told him to tell that story.)

Sitting on the deck, at the table, you watch them play, you often laugh because there are a lot of bad losers and cheaters in this crew. You get up with Lucky to prepare the meal and it takes less than thirty minutes to be served. Shanks and Hongo were talking in another room and will not witness the scene that is about to occur. You sit down, as soon as they start eating your crew congratulates you on what you have just prepared. When Yasopp, a little more tipsy than normal, while you are the last to take your cutlery, makes a comment to you. Stupid, petty and cruel. What he usually calls “a joke” is actually a criticism you will never forget. “Easy Y/N, it won’t fly away. Even if for you, it would do you good, ahahahahahah.” Benn tells him to apologize to you immediately and to be silent. What he does. You immediately lose your smile and your appetite, but you didn't think you were fat ? You put your cutlery down correctly and take your plate back to the kitchen. Benn tries to tell you to stay and eat but you say you're not hungry. You cover it and put it in the fridge, for the next person who gets hungry. You start to do the dishes that you and Lucky had left for the meal.

You rinse it and go to your room, his remark will never leave your mind. Your Captain sees you joining their quarters, he frowns. You've already cleaned this morning and you should be eating, it's lunch time. “Y/N !!!”, you stop, turning to where your name came from. Shanks walks up to you “Are you okay ?”, you nod. “Are you not staying with us anymore ?”, “I’m tired..” He holds your cheek in his hand, tilts his head to the side. “Is that true ?”, you nod your head. He kisses your forehead and tells you to rest. You nod and go back to your room, you lie down and take a nap. Shanks and Hongo will sit at your table to eat.

The incident was “forgotten” by the crew. The day passes quietly, you sleep until the evening. The crew left, having landed on an island. So much the better, you don't have to make them food. You go back to bed, cover yourself and go back to sleep. They return slowly a few hours later and everyone goes back to their beds. Your Captain opens the door to your room, without knocking, places a bouquet of roses and chocolate on your bedside. He covers you a little more and kisses your cheek then closes the door. He goes to sleep, the next day he is busy. He walks past you as you clean their rooms and change their sheets. You thank him for the gifts and tell him that you put the flowers in a vase. “Glad you liked it, sweetie. You ate ?" You nod, you hate lying to him but otherwise he won't let you go. He goes to join the others.

Strangely, you remain docked on this same island for several weeks. They go out almost every day, except for you even though they tried to bring you with them. You don't even think about eating, you drink a lot of water to make your belly seem full. You continue to carry out your tasks, but without nutritional intake, you become less and less efficient. You prepare the meal for them, without eating anything, you don't even taste to know if it's too salty. So you can continue to lie to your Captain about the fact that you ate while you were preparing for them.

Three weeks, without eating a single meal, you lost around ten kilos. You think internally that you are fat, in fact you avoid looking at your body in the mirror. You pinch your stomach, thinking you find fat there. You put on long dresses with long sleeves to hide that your body has melted like snow in the sun. You sleep all the time, you have trouble breathing. Despite that, thinking about food makes you instantly nauseous. What your teammate told you resonates in your head. You keep drinking water to “fill” yourself up. Your BMI has always been perfect. So you don't have any reserves that your body would have stored against such malnutrition. As time goes by, you become infinitely tired, you no longer prepare food, leaving Lucky to do so. Shanks came to your room several times to ask you out. You answered that you were tired and it was true, visible. “Do you want me to tell Hongo to come see you ?”, you shook your head every time.

You fall in front of him, he rushes towards you “Y/N ??! What is it, angel ??!” You shrug your shoulders, he carries you in his arms to your bed. You don't let him look at you to see if you've hurt yourself. But he already noticed how light you were in his arms. He's also very busy, so he often forgets to send Hongo to examine you.

You stumble, after three weeks, you can no longer stand. You stay in bed, in the dark, covered. You're stressed, you have bone pain. You fall asleep, but you don't actually wake up. You stay in your bed, half passed out, you end up losing consciousness. You weigh less than 40 kilos and are 1.70 meters tall.

Your Captain had a good lie-in and when he got up, around 1 p.m., there was no one on the ship. The whole crew is out, so he showers, gets dressed and opens the door to your room, sure to find you there. Bingo, he crouches down and shakes your arm lightly. You don’t hear it “Baby, wake up, it’s 2 p.m..” He places his fingers on your neck, feeling a very faint pulse. He removes your blanket and strokes your hair, your face is hollow. He takes off your long dress, you are left with nothing but skin and bones. He frowns, his hand can circle your thigh. “Y/N !!! Treasure, please wake up !!! Shake my hand !!!” You stay still, he gets you dressed and places his arms under your thighs and under your neck. He carries you and takes you straight to the hospital. He explains to the nurse who registers the patients. Your blood pressure is low but you are alive. You stay lying in his arms, in the waiting room. He touches your stomach, he could almost brush against your organs, through the skin. He touches your shoulders, lets his hand run over your arms, your thighs, back to your cheek. He sighs, looking up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

When a doctor tells him to come, he lifts you up to a room where he gently places you on the bed. He takes off your dress so the doctor can examine you. A nurse will give you an IV to start renutrition. Shanks is told that you are malnourished. “We will have to do this very gently in order to preserve the liver, the heart, the brain.” Your Captain nods and listens “We have to monitor her all the time, her temperature and her heart rate. She is probably slowed down in her movements and breathes with difficulty when she is awake.” The nurse offers Shanks something to eat but he is suddenly not hungry either. She covers you then they go out, he strokes your hair and looks at you attentively. He doesn't understand what's going on.

The crew returns to the ship and finds no one, not even you, so the right hand man contacts his Captain. Who picks up “We’re at the hospital, come on. Room no*****”. Benn joins you, accompanied by Hongo who was also unaware of what happened that day. Benn explains what happened. “We thought she had eaten afterwards, we didn’t think she had cut off all nutritional intake since then.” Shanks almost pulls his hair out hearing that. Still his idiot teammate. He is furious, if Yasopp had been in front of him when he found out, he would have killed him. Hongo says “So if I understand correctly, if we count exactly, since he said that until today, it’s been 27 days since she swallowed anything.” Shanks grits his teeth, he doesn't want to let his anger out on the wrong people. He just said to his right-hand man “I would have appreciated you keeping me informed Beck.” The right arm apologizes flatly, a silence falls between them. Hongo asks what the doctor said, Shanks replies “Hospitalized, for at least 2 weeks.” He tells them to go back, they obey, on the road, it is very silent.

Your Captain stays awake until the next morning, he ends up falling asleep sitting, head in his arms, on your bed. He sleeps for a few hours, he goes out to buy you something to eat. You wake up around 12 p.m. You look around, with no energy to move your body. You keep your eyes open, trying to scan the room with your eyes. Your Captain comes in, without looking at you at first. He puts the meal on the table when he glances at you. Very happy inside, even if he doesn't show it to you. “Don’t panic sweetie, it’s me, I took you to the hospital.” You look at him, exhausted, he grabs your hand in his. “It’s okay honey, I’m here. How are you feeling ?" You shrug your shoulders, you can't speak. You see your Captain's eyes fill with tears. “I found you in your bed, motionless, I thought you were dead !!!” You're powerless to even tell him not to worry. You pull his forearm towards you, he comes closer, you raise your hand to wipe his tears. He lets you do it, he kisses your forehead then smiles at you. You make a sloppy, whispered apology. He shakes his head “I don’t blame you, Beck explained to me. Why didn't you tell me ? You know I’m here for you and will help you no matter what you ask.” You shrug your shoulders and struggle to lift your neck. He places your pillow behind you to lift you up slightly.

You feel your body in pain, you are on morphine and electrodes are attached to your chest. He sits on a chair, wanting to understand “Is that why you wore long dresses ? Were you hiding your body ?” You nod, he caresses your cheek then he convinces you to eat what he bought you. “Don���t you dare tell me you’re not hungry, because after a month without eating anything, you can’t not be hungry.” He opens the box and asks you to eat together, he’s the one who makes you eat. But after four spoons, you turn your head away. He says to you “Okay, later then.” You shake your head, he loses his temper slightly “If you keep this up, you’re going to DIE !! Y/N !!!” You stare into space, replying “It’s… not a big deal.” Shanks blames himself, because he feels like he neglected you. Sure, he was busy, but if he had insisted on staying with you for just one day, he would have realized the problem. He closes the box, losing his appetite too, seeing you like that. He puts it back in the bag and sits closer to you. “Darling, don’t say that.. You can’t die, certainly not under my nose and never, ever, will I allow you to abandon me, love.” His hand holds your wrist and runs over the flesh delicately. He tries to convince you “Come on my doll, make a little effort.” You tell him that you are no longer hungry. He nods, covering you a little more.

The nurse comes in and asks you how you feel. She takes your constants and tells you to listen to your Captain. You don't even pay attention to what she's saying. For you, only your thoughts count and they tell you that you are fat and that you need to lose weight again. You hear Shanks say “Give me a kiss princess.” and honestly thinks he talked to the nurse. But the nurse left the room several minutes ago. He touches your cheek, you come to your senses and ask “Uh ?! M-Me ??!” He nods, smiling, you give him a kiss on the cheek. He is happy, thanks you and hugs you. He makes you promise not to hide anything from him anymore. You tell him you're fat, he pinches your stomach gently. “Are you kidding or what ?? Look at ??! Where ? Where ? Where’s the fat ??!” You sigh, he covers you and sits back down to eat the rest of the meal he bought.

He looks at you, while you look at your feet, the smell of shrimp disgusts you. You make a deal “You must eat from my plate, at least once a day and with me. You sleep with me. You stay with me." You accept, you have to. You ask him “In exchange, what do you do ?” He smiles at you “Whatever you want, my moon !!!” You tell him “So, don’t get angry with your teammate..” He grits his teeth and tells you “We’ll see later.” Lime and Lucky came to see you, say hello. They tell you the same thing as your Captain. You're not fat, far from it. You need to eat and get back to your usual weight. In the evening, you eat a little, he helps you brush your teeth then lies down again. He stays with you for almost twenty days of hospitalization. You've gained 6 kilos, which is very good. The doctor agrees to let you out, he showered you, dressed you and carried you in his arms to the ship. You dozed on his shoulder, you go up to the deck. You hear your crew interrupt and wish you a safe return.

Shanks carries you to his room, lays you down on his bed, covers you, kisses you on the forehead then walks out. You are still dozing but not enough to fall asleep straight away. They're arguing, there's nothing you can do to stop that. “They put a catheter in her !!! In the nose !!! In the arm !!!! Lots of tips !!! ALL BECAUSE YOU CAN’T HOLD YOUR MOUTH !!!!” Yasopp apologizes but your Captain doesn't want to hear anything. “You don’t talk to her anymore, I don’t ever want to hear your crude comments about her body or about her or anything she does.” Shanks goes to eat, explains briefly to the crew, Yasopp feels guilty. Then your Captain showers, gets dressed and goes to bed with you. He caresses your cheek as you finally fall asleep. He hugs you, kisses your face.

The following weeks, you sometimes vomit, he reassures you and encourages you to eat again. He always makes you eat from his plate, in small quantities. Whether it’s what you want him to buy you or what Lucky prepares for you. You end up getting back to your old weight after almost three months. He always watches you and makes you sit on his lap when it's meal time to make sure you never do it again. Relations between you and Yasopp or him and your Captain continued to be terse or cold for several months.

Enjoy - Do not copy or repost anywhere. Republish of course if you like it. I made edits on Tiktok too if you want to check 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[reaper-in-reverie]

The Boy Who Cried Wolf

note. tw for dark themes (it's dazai) such as suicidal thoughts and suicide attempts, depression, and overdose. all things dazai, in short (?). angst, angst, angst. i think i relate to dazai to some level. also, just to clarify, I'm not trying to portray the agency doesn't care for dazai, they do care for him and it's obvious, I just thought they don't take him seriously sometimes. turned out longer than I desired. ooc writing. wc. 905

Dazai's pen roughly scribbled word after word onto the piece of paper he held in his other hand.

"Please, just this once,"

His handwriting was messy yet still understandable. He stared at the paper for a moment, eyes growing hazy with tears that didn't dare fall; if this worked, he wouldn't have to live meaninglessly any longer, he wouldn't have to look for a justification for his miserable existence anymore.

Dazai quickly placed the piece of paper down on a nearby table, running it in his head if the paper would easily be spotted. Then he moved the table to the corner to make it more noticeable to anyone who could potentially walk in.

"Please, please, just this once, let me do it."

He shakily reached out to the pill bottle.

He stared at it for a moment.

He stopped himself.

It beckoned to him sweetly.

God, Dazai was so tired. He looked the opposite direction, to the wall where his calendar was hung. Today marked the fifth year since Oda's death. His dearest friend. He could feel Odasaku's stare, somewhere out there, and he could feel Odasaku be torn between letting the poor boy rest and wanting Osamu to live. Everyone had their limits.

"I'm sorry, Odasaku—" the words were erased as fast as Dazai had scribbled it into the letter.

He stared at the calendar a little longer, but he didn't think over what he was about to do. Instead he thought about how absurd the Agency was for being so used to him trying to kill himself—the suicidal maniac was always cheery, after all. Never tired. Always bothersome. The Agency would hardly bat an eye. Maybe Atsushi would ask around. That would be the end of it.

"He must be trying to drown himself again. That sorry waste of bandages—he'll come back."

How cruel of them to think he'd always return.

How kind of them to think he'd always return.

"I hope this works."

Dazai breathed out sharply, moving his head to the opposite direction once more, to the pill bottle at the side. He took it and poured some into his hands. Similar to how water escaped from the gaps of his fingers, some pills fell from his hands. He didn't bother to pick them up. This should be enough. This will be enough.

Another stare at his hands.

Then he let the pills drop into his mouth, letting them sit there before he took a glass of water and swallowed harshly, sealing his fate, the pills sliding down his throat with something akin to enthusiasm.

"Just this once."

Dazai paused, waiting for his vision to blur familiarly before attempting to make it back to his futon. Multiple bottles sat around where he hoped to have his final rest, and he stumbled on a few of them—what an ironic design for a coffin.

"Just this once."

He collapsed into the bed, turning his head just slightly to the calendar again. His head spun. His vision faded. He had not learned to begin to care.

"Let me die."

Let me die.

Let me die.

"Please, let me die."

Dazai still woke up.

And he wanted to die more than ever.

He put on a usual cheery smile on the way to work. He stared at the sears on his arms before wrapping a new roll of bandages over them. Yes, everyone would believe that they were there just for design so long they were clean. Yes, no one would suspect a thing.

The Agency wouldn't bat an eye, he thought.

He was just the silly waste of bandages.

"Kunikida-kun—!" Dazai chatted cheerfully, showing the newspaper he picked up to poor Kunikida. It was an article concerning the Agency. Dazai pretended to find it entertaining as he pointed to a pathetic shot of Kunikida.

"You look so manly here, don't you think?" There was a teasing lilt in his voice, which made Kunikida glower at him.

"Oh, you—I should just strangle you!" Kunikida groaned, rolling his eyes and turning away. Dazai laughed obnoxiously, placing the newspaper on Kunikida's desk. He started to walk off, but Atsushi managed to catch up to him before he could leave the office. The younger boy gave Dazai that bright smile, though it immediately morphed into a dismissive look upon processing Dazai's leave.

"Are you skipping work again, Dazai-san?" Atsushi asked, leaning by his desk.

"Of course that bastard's skipping work again," Kunikida rolled his eyes. Dazai looked back at him, his expression solemn for just a split second—before a smirk rose to his face once more. Kunikida hardly listened, anyway.

"You know me!" He waved, shoving his hands in his coat pockets as he made his way to the exit.

"Don't actually kill yourself, this time, Dazai-san!" Atsushi called one last time before Dazai shut the door on the both of them.

This time.

Dazai sighed, walking down the hall and into the elevator to escape the building.

Of course he wasn't actually planning on scurrying away from work. He was going to visit a certain grave. Where a death of five years lay. He was going to visit Odasaku. He was going to visit an old friend who sat peacefully beneath an old willow tree. He wondered if Oda waited for him, wherever he was. Dazai thought he was probably writing a story, living peacefully in the arms of death.

And, someday, Dazai hoped—that he, too, would follow him to where all stories ended.

© reapkusho on tumblr. 2024. all rights reserved. refrain from translating, copying, or stealing in any way, etc.

[moongothic]

To be honest I can kinda see how having a hook instead of a hand prosthetic has its benefits

Hook is easier to mantain than a hand with lots of small moving pats, especially when you don't know shit about it. If something happens to it and it gets broken, it's much easier to replace a hook, even with all layers and poisons

And depending on when in time Crocodile lost his hand he may have just got used to it already

But also yeah, Crocodile is just the type of guy to choose a hook instead of a new hand because looks and aesthetics lol

(sorry for typos btw)

Crocodile's hook is kind of fun because it's a reflection of so many things in the story. Like there's the in-universe lore and character stuff we can look at, but also we can look at it from a meta perspective

Like we know Oda wanted to give certain important characters in the story the Iconic Pirate Traits; the peg leg for Zeff, the hook for Crocodile and an eyepatch he has seemingly been saving up all these years for a special someone (my money's on Mr Burns but that's a different subject). And so Crocodile having the iconic hook is a part of an old pirate-y "vision" Oda wanted to fulfill with One Piece, an OG "goal" from waaay back in the day

But another thing is that Crocodile is very much from The Olden Days of One Piece, more specifically, very much pre-what I'd call the sci-fi era of OP. I'd say One Piece started truly dwelling deeper into that genre and its tropes during Punk Hazard, but Oda didn't even really dip his toes into it until the CP9 Saga (with the introduction of Franky and the namedropping of Doctor Vegapunk). Sure, Oda did already hint at the existence of Vegapunk and his scientific developments back in Alabasta (when Miss Merry Christmas explained that Lassoo was a gun that had eaten a Dog Dog Fruit, this being "the Latest Science from the Grand Line"*), but One Piece was still very much in its more classical fantasy element/genre at this point in the story, so the science fiction that was to come years and decades later was not even present at this point

*(Thinking about it, honestly, how the fuck did Mr 4 get his hands on Lassoo if Lassoo was created by Vegapunk?? Was he a gift from Vegapunk/the WG to Crocodile, maybe????? That Crocodile just secretly gave away to Mr 4????)

In other words, in hindsight it might seem odd Crocodile wouldn't have taken advantage of his position as a Warlord and gotten a prosthetic arm to replace his hook. But Crocodile is a One Piece character from a different era in the story, when advanced prosthetics, cyborgs, robots, clones and so much more were nothing but a twinkle in Oda's eyes. So expecting Crocodile to have lived up to the sci-fi future One Piece wasn't originally going to even get to would be unreasonable.

But the fun thing is that we can actually look at Crocodile and his silly little hook, and spin it in a way that does actually complement his character. We can find in-universe reasons for him to have stuck to a hook over an advanced prosthetic, and they make sense. The most obvious would of course be that Crocodile does not trust anyone. It would be very much unlike him to go to Vegapunk and/or the World Government requesting to be given a prosthetic, because that would mean 1) Leaving himself vulnerable for a period of time so that Vegapunk could actually give him a prosthetic (dangerous) 2) Knowing the WG they would not just give out something like that for free, surely they'd want something from Crocodile in exchange. And, while we know what would become of Kuma eventually (a fate so cruel I'm sure even Crocodile could not have imagined) I'm sure he could have suspected the WG could want to use him for a science experiment or two, something I'm sure Crocodile would never have agreed to. Or maybe the WG/Vegapunk would've wanted Crocodile to pay them an obscene amount of money in exchange for a prosthetic, and/or have him do some other favors. Whatever the case, I'm sure none of these options would have seemed worth it in his mind.

And yeah, what you said.

Maintaining and taking care of a hook would be easier, like if Vegapunk's prosthetics ever broke or malfunctioned for any reason Crocodile would have to make a horrifically long hike all the way from Alabasta to Marijoa, cross the Red Line (to be fair his Shichibukai Status would allow him to go over which would be more convenient than passing through Fishman Island), go to Punk Hazard (or Egghead later on), and then hike aaall the way back to Alabasta again. And Vegapunk's inventions didn't always work as intended, the man had to refine and develop his creations to get them to work the way he wanted them to.

So if the option get a prosthetic was ever brought up to Crocodile by the WG like 10+ years ago, he might've been far more cynical about Vegapunk's ability to actually create a decent prosthetic that worked and wouldn't malfunction/have issues etc. And as you suggested, by that time he probably would have become used to his hook, to the point that he didn't mind keeping it.

And yeah, it would be just a big ol' Luffyism if he preferred the giant, golden, gaudy-ass hook

[yyxandere]

And more images about Yakuza men, but in this time it's a liiiittle dark (be careful 😶‍🌫️):

You must be one of the lucky people, or vice versa, if you were able to attract the attention of the most faithful servant of the chairman of the Tojo Clan - Mine. Most likely, you both met either by chance on the street or while working as his secretary. If you both was meet accidentally at street, he most likely didn’t even pay attention, but later he involuntarily began to remember, involuntarily grumbling, why a civilian like you got him hooked. This went from trying to get you out of his head to now actively pursuing you. Due to his important work, Yoshitaka is not able to monitor you around the clock, so he quietly asks for help from his master with the appearance that you are “suspicious” in the city and voila! It has access to all points wherever you are, and it always felt someone's else looks even in your home. But if you were his secretary, things would get more interesting. Under the guise of “work,” he obsessively bores you with his meticulous attention to detail and always finds something to complain about, still not understanding why he thinks about strange sensations from your presence, mistakenly considering you for rejection. Over time, Mine becomes more and more tolerable to you, afraid that his assertiveness will make you force fired from job, and immediately begins to make pleasant remarks here and there, thereby confusing you. As soon as you lower your guard, you will be completely in his hands with no way to escape. It is impossible to call for help or fight with him, this will not help anything, and will only anger your captor. Of course, he will not knock out every living thing from your body, but he can give a pacifying slap in the face if you try to attack him or express disrespect for his master. If you are initially calm and do not express negativity towards him, Mine will be pleased, and will even allow you to be among civilization again, but under close supervision. If someone dares to encroach on you, then this fool will face the most painful days of his life and may even would force you to watch all this if you were too close to this stranger in his opinion. He is not too cruel, but not too kind yandere.

Tachibana, as a businessman, is an extremely gallant and delicate man. This person is ready to literally spoil you with anything: high-quality food, expensive jewelry, clothes or even weapons; his power has no limits. If you had experience in the field of management, then he could attach you to one position in his real estate agency, which would make you as close as possible to him if by that time you still do not know him better. This gives him a chance, as in the case of Mine, under the guise of "performance monitoring", to literally breathe down your neck while you nervously fill out the paperwork. Tetsu has the most tolerance and best understanding of your situation if you are very unhappy with it, but the longer the negativity lasts, the more bitter it becomes. At one point, he will be able to punish you with isolation so that you “calm down”, after which he will try to make amends by feeling guilty. There is a real chance that he will kidnap you safely, he has many enemies, and he does not want to risk your safety for him. Due to kidney problems, he cannot be with you as often as he would like, leaving you in the care of his guards, or you go to him for dialysis, if you don't mind being with him during this procedure, which can It will comfort him a little. Tachibana is the man who smiles sweetly at you, talks about his day, and discreetly adjusts his prosthetic, which he used last night against the villains who were planning to kidnap you to blackmail him. But you don’t need to know this, the main thing is that you are safe, his and only his.

Oda is not as nice to you like his master. Using his experience with human trafficking, he can put as much pressure on you to stay with him, which makes him a very skilled manipulator. From sweet words to direct threatenings, he threat you with the most frightening things, using anything to break your revolution to resistance. Oda is even ready to use his people, where they “kidnap” you, and he, as a real “savior,” helps you in this situation, hoping for the development of Stockholm syndrome in you. But even if this does not help and by some miracle you are still able to fight it, then it is useless. Wherever you go, he can easily call for help from the Tachibana, for whom it is not difficult to find someone, especially civil. After this, you will have a stick instead of a cookie, where you will be isolated from the outside world and limited in food. No matter how long it lasts, Oda is very patient when it comes to your obedience, he has no morals unless it concerns his master. Of course, he is not completely heartless and can behave normally, but once you express your dissatisfaction at least once again, you will start all over. He is a ruthless demon with a cute mask instead of a face, be careful.

Saejima, after a long imprisonment, has become very restrained in terms of showing too strong emotions, and you can help him with this. Once he warms up to you, he will be able to trust you enough to talk about himself and his main trauma. You'll have to hold Saejima while he clings to you, crying fitfully, burying his face in your shoulder, after every nightmare in which he had dreams of the people he killed that fateful day. This incident has affected him greatly and he is grateful that you always console him after every breakdown by gently stroking his head in soothing movements. Saejima may seem very rude at times, but don't jump to conclusions! He is a very straightforward person and the combination of his Kansai accent can be a little confusing, but you will get used to it over time. You will also have to introduce Sejima to modern technology, patiently explaining everything, understanding that during his stay in prison he was literally completely cut off from the outside world. He takes advantage of this, pretending to be even more ignorant for your attention and enjoying the feeling of your presence, leaning against him from behind for a painstaking explanation of how to use certain gadgets! He's too obsessed with you to let you go, and he's so apologetic about it, trying to flatter you with every desire. Well, you still don't want to leave him, do you…?

-ˋˏSINCERELY YOURS. . . ->

ANON.

WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS COOKING???!!!! YOU'RE ALWAYS MAKING A WHOLE-COURSE BUFFET!! AND WE GET FED EVERSINGLE TIME!!! I GOT SO CARRIED AWAY THAT I MADE SO MANY SCENARIOS, ARGGG

Mine is so fine please help me, esply in isshin 🤤🤤

Mine, an obsessor by nature, we might never know if fate was trying to be cruel to your life, but it seems like your luck finally ran out when you met him. If you're just a normal civilian who manages to capture his interest, at the beginning he will hate you better yet despise you. you're just a normal person who has no place in this world he works yet why did you manage to keep him awake? always occupying his mind, it was a nuisance he couldn't be thinking of you, a lowly person when he could be at his boss's side. Yet here he was hiring one of his men to put CCTV in your own apartment, but it wasn't enough for him he wanted to see wherever you go, a decision that felt like he NEEDED to make. So talking to the clan head Daigo, he wanted to track down wherever you went saying that "you were very suspicious" or "she might be working with the other yakuza, and we might get information about them through her." such excuses made Daigo reluctant, I mean, spying a "normal" woman's life is very much mess up and he hasn't even heard about you but Daigo trusted his right-hand man, how can he not? He has done many things that improve the clan. So in the end Daigo agrees to track and keep an eye on you by Mine, and so with that, you were being watched over Mine, everywhere, he now has all the cameras in all of Kaumuroscho even in the most darkes alley, and he has it. Maybe he was trying to find out something suspicious or maybe just to feed this growling dog inside of him, asking, and yearning to see more of you. Yet this begins a story of a man falling in love, a man who wants to control you.

Mine would show himself but he would be planning your downfall, making you lose your job, turning your friends against you, and making you unable to pay for rent, causing you to be kicked out, you have nowhere to go until Mine saw you on the street and gave you a very manipulative smile, taking you away and asking you to be his secretary and this could have been an angel send but little did you know that you were just about to walk to the devils palm (if you know the devils palm reference ily and we should kiss)

As his secretary, you are more tense than ever. Mine giving you many strict rules and many more, make sure that you keep a list of his next meeting and all, even though he told you he was in the yakuza which is a MAJOR red flag, you agreed cuz hey, beggars vant be choosers so you decided that if you have food in the table a roof in your head and security from all the dark business that he's doing then you would be good, Mine did tell you that hell makes sure that you won't be involved in any kind of yakuza business where you need to spill blood, no only some shady ones.

Mine as your boss, is very much restricted, he would be so close to you that he's practically breathing your scent, to see "your progress" and he would make sure that you have more work than assigned no matter how much you want to pull your hairs out you can't really complain to your boss, the same boss that is giving you money to live a stable life. Mine would give you mixed signs, just a moment he was charming and was buttering you up now he's staring at you with some sort of cold expression in his eyes, he doesn't show any emotion, only that look in his eyes gives you shivers.

Now if he were to kidnap you, he knows that you would throw a "childish" tantrum so, of course, he has tricks up his sleeve after many months of planning to kidnap you, one of them is using your family or friends as blackmail material, he wouldn't kill them (for now) but he will use them as his pawns to keep you from staying away from him, every failed attempt to escape or even bad manners like spitting on his face, he would give you a satisfying slap and as for your escape he would make your close one's life like hell, they will lose their job and their house by some unknown organization. Don't you even dare disrespect Daigo in any kind of way, he will drag you from your hair and hold your face and bind your wrist together as he gives you one of the most furious looks ever, your wrist too would be bruised, he would tie you up in his basement and leave you there for many days, until you apologize from disrespecting Daigo he would then let you go and soothe your wounds.

If you actually behave yourself then be prepared to be spoiled by Mine, he will give you many luxurious clothes, fancy restaurants, or even raise one of your siblings to have a higher position in the company they are working at, see, not a bad deal right? Just behave and deal with the bruises that he gives you while kissing you so harshly.

TACHIBANA AAAAA EXPLODES

Our beloved Tachibana, his sophisticated yet intelligent demeanor had lured you in like a siren's voice, a siren that will lure you by her voice and her beauty is the only thing shinning beside the mast of gold she has beside her (yandere siren tachibana au?). Tachibana like Mine will plan your downfall and come to your life like a savior, and we all know what happens next, you have nothing else but despair and disappointment in your heart. The one who will bring you into the light is none other than Tachibana our beloved Tachibana who will take care of you. He will make you work close to him, you won't even have to know any kind of experience in the area, he just wants you to be near him, but if you really want to learn how to manage the business then he would be happy to teach you, while you sit on your chair he is behind, so close that you can practically smell what kind of colne his wearing and his shampoo smells like your favorite brand too. He would place his non-prosthetic hand on top of yours so he can feel your skin and body heat while he tells you basic instructions, yet how can you focus when you are out here being a blushing mess, Tachibana knows that and makes himself closer to you. Your heart beats faster and faster, and your breath gets heavier as you try to concentrate on his words. It's not just the fact that he is hot, it's his charisma, his smile, his eyes, his body, and his personality, he is someone you can't seem to get enough, he is alluring. You know how he makes you blush and you can't stop it. His presence, his warmth, the way he smiles gently at you, the way you melt every time he whispers sweet words to you, the way he holds you so carefully and tenderly in his arms, the way he caresses your skin whenever he touches it.

Offending is pretty much impossible since his lapdog I mean- Oda is already near him, (pretty much giving you a stink eye). If Tachiaban manages to kidnap you, he will spoil you but if you keep on screaming and crying he will gently hush you like how a mother comforts her baby, bite him, kick him, even spit on his face he won't get angry, no, him showing you that his calm shows you how much he is in control, like you said anon, he would leave you at his basement so you can calm down. But unlike Mine, Tachibana would slowly creep into your family or friend's life, so if you even manage to escape (how tf is that possible, he has cameras everywhere) you would seem like the ungrateful one. How can a nice and soft-spoken man, ever do such things, they're gonna look at you like you're insane!!

Actually, while we are on the topic of family, Tachibana would actually want a child himself, yes, he knows that he needs an heir but he deeply wants a child of his own. Most of all Tachiaban wants to live a good life even if it is a short one, he wants you to talk about your day as you carry his child while he fixes his prosthetic arm after giving the person who was planning to kidnap you a good punch.

I DESPISE this bastard Oda, after what he has done to my beloved queen Makoto.

The glorious asshole himself Oda, as you said aint a savior unlike his boss, he is willing to hurt you so you can learn how to love him. It doesn't matter if it's physical or psychological he will hurt you no matter what. He has no problem pulling some strings to get you kidnaped by his old pals and letting them play with you for a bit, and then he will come and save you like some kind of superhero, he would make sure after what happened to you, you will cling unto him like a leech and never let him go and he sucks ever affection and attention you give him, he speaks like feathers are roaming around you yet, in reality, are insects ready to eat you whole. Escaping him would be impossible, being the right hand of the most powerful estate agent in Kamurocho, leaving him won't be easy. He will use your family as blackmail but, if you push his buttons hard he will not hesitate to kill your family in front of you, their waling screams pierce your ears, a night to remember. He has no morals and would not even stop until you behave.

Even though you will have the luxury of living a good life with Oda, his kindness and gentle manner are only a facade to his demonic self, act out of line again then you wouldn't mind being thrown in his basement with no food or water as you makes you forcefully watch a video of your father getting tortured. He will leave you there for days and come back to you in your disheveled state, he will make you take a bath and feed you, he's going to break you and rebuild you as many times as he wants until you behave.

SAEJIMA MY FAVOURITE YAKUZA CHARACTER OMFG AON IM SQUEELING, I HAD TO REFRAIN FROM RANTING IN HIS PART IJOIDCDIOKVGS

Ah yes, Saejima the man with blood in his hands, his hands are rough and big, and calloused yet here he is the same man that has a hand that can grip a man's head with one arm while being wounded not knowing how to send a text to someone, and of coarse you never blame him he spend many years in the gutter and missed out of all human technologies, you are more then happy to explain the basics!! He listens attentively, absorbing the information and memorizing it all the best he can, he tries his best but most of the time he has a hard time concentrating when your body is touching him, he likes it when you in his side while you tap on the "cellphone" but please do be patient with him, he is learning! Even though he is acting aloof he can spend more time with you and listen to your voice. Also, Saejima asked about your favorite music which you happily agreed to give recommendations about, you happily listen to your music taste and make Saejima listen to any kind of genre you listen to, it's just an excuse for Saejima to be close to you and see your smile as you hum the lyrics, he has to stop himself from trying to hug you and kiss you afraid that he will make you uncomfortable.

Saejima is vulnerable to you, he trusts you that he is willing to cry on your shoulder as he clings to you when he has suddenly memories of what happened, many years in the gutter deprived him of any kind of affection hell, and even humans touch, so he CRAVES your touch, he wants your touch, your hugs, anything that will give him any kind of comfort. When he hugs you he can smell your scent, he loves the way your fingers feel between his hair (IF HE HAD HIS HAIR B4), how warm you feel, how soft and pliant you are, the way you make his heartbeat quicker than normal, the way you make him feel special and important. He can't explain the feelings he has in his heart whenever you do, but deep inside him there is a fear that it will change someday, he is scared that someday your view of him will change and you will realize that he is nothing more than a monster.

Saejima is also scared that you might see him as a rude individual plus his resting bitch face doesn't help either yet if you manage to see through him and see that he's just being honest and straightforwards and he's also, in fact, a soft man at heart, he is really just a traumatized guy who needs all the support he needs, you would just leave him in the dust wouldn't you?

[ruan566]

Chuuya was exhausted, honestly he understood why Dazai wanted to die more than ever now.

Fuck it all, Chuuya wanted to die, who would want to live when the cost was using Corruption?

And he hated hospitals!

Given the fact that he had only used Corruption for four minutes before Dazai had stopped, the hospital trip wouldn’t be that long.

But he still fucking hated hospitals.

Chuuya slowly opened his eyes, only to find a very stinky stupid Mackerel entering his hospital ward.

“………”

“……..”

Dazai blinked.

Chuuya blinked.

Both of them blinked again.

And again.

Finally Dazai broke the awkward stare of by actually stepping inside the room, rather than standing on the threshold.

He cleared his throat.

“Chuuya. Good to see my dog is still alive and kicking.”

And all the goodwill Chuuya had been feeling towards the bastard for visiting him disappeared.

“Shut it, bastard. And I’m not your dog.”

Dazai sat on the chair right next to Chuuya’s bed, whining, “Booh! I waited upon my dog like a good master and Chuuya returns my affections by being cruel to me?? Chuuya has no humanity within his cruel heart!”

Chuuya snorted, “I am a fucking science experiment, bastard.”

Dazai’s face stiffened, he straightened up speaking with complete seriousness, “Oye, has Chibi’s dumb hat finally eaten his chibi brain? Of course Chuuya is a human.”

Chuuya smiled, it was a sad sight, the sight of someone who had whispered the same reassurances to himself for far too long, “Thanks Mackerel.”

Dazai frowned, “Chuuya, who knows you best?”

Oh Chuuya hated when Dazai said his name like that, that lilt upwards as if Chuuya was the single most precious thing in the world.

“You.”

Dazai nodded vehemently, “So if I say Chuuya is human then he is. Plus I’m a genius, obviously I would know better than tiny Chibiko.”

Usually the nickname would fill Chuuya with rage, now?

It made him feel warm.

Which was apparent as Chuuya’s cheeks burned.

(Bloody romance novels lied to him, you in fact couldn’t control your blush. Fuck you, biology. He was Nakahara Chuuya he was going to control his fucking blush.)

Dazai embarrassed himself, made an excuse “I have to go meet up with Odaaaku and Ango.”

Chuuya scrambled to halt him.

One leg on his bed, the other on the ground and both hands grasping Dazai’s cost, Chuuya pulled.

Making Dazai also sit on the bed.

Chuuya took a deep breath.

And kissed Dazai on his cheek.

Not moving his face away, Chuuya spoke, “Thanks.”

And hurriedly let go of Dazai, “You should leave, Sakaguchi-san and Oda-san would be waiting for you.”

Dazai stood up looking at Chuuya he slowly held up one of Chuuya’s hand.

Soft and pale and sensitive due to the gloves.

Dazai slowly kissed Chuuya’a knuckles.

“Okay.”

And Dazai left.

Chuuya smiled falling back on his bed.

Shoving his face on a pillow, Chuuya giggled.

Blushing madly.

Outside the hospital room, Dazai was no different.

He stood leaning against the door, fingers touching the spot where Chuuya had kissed his cheek.

He smiled to himself.

And it was enough then, Double Black held together by affection rivalry and just a pinch of respect.

And maybe it wasn’t enough four years ago.

It was never enough was it?

Chuuya had sincerely believed it was.

And yet here he was chugging a whole bottle of wine.

Alone.

Because in the end “I love you.” didn’t make people stay, not if they were said like goodbyes.

On the other side of the city Dazai also drank, a 89 bottle of Pétrus.

(He had stolen the second bottle of it from Chuuya’s wine rack.)

Dazai hadn’t meant to leave….

But people never do.

You don’t wish to burn down a house, one made with love.

But in the end all you could do was stare at it as it burned down in flames.

[allbuthuman]

Why I think Chuuya's dislike of Dazai is deeper than vice versa

The reason is, to put it simply, that Chuuya has more reasons to be appalled by someone like Dazai.

I'm mostly referring to their mafia years, because that's when we've seen them interact the most, and because neither of them has been open enough to talk it out and let their interactions mature much beyond how they acted when they were teens.

Struggling with their humanity is a central part of their dynamic, exactly because their experiences are comparable by contrasting one another. Chuuya doesn't know if he's biologically human, yet has the emotions of a human being and clings onto his humanity; Dazai is, for all we know at least, and for all Chuuya knows, biologically human, yet either hides or derogates his human qualities. In that sense, Dazai is what Chuuya never wants to become. He's desperate to know that he is a human being, and desperate to stay one, and here he meets someone who almost makes a point out of discarding his humanity. (This is at least partly a defense mechanism on Dazai's part, since he's being taught that he can't afford being anything other than completely rational, but that's for another post.)

Of course he's going to be disgusted by him. He thinks that he has what he wants and yet disregards it, and, at the same time, that he is what he fears he might become. He was a traumatised teenager – he didn't have the capacity to try to understand why Dazai felt and behaved that way; not when he posed a threat to his sense of self.

Dazai, on the other hand, is, of course, annoyed by Chuuya, but doesn't have such a deep-seated reason to actually, seriously be appalled by him. He is annoyed by the too-human ways he behaves, which he sees as immature, and to which he can't relate to, but those are more of a nuisance rather than something that genuinely threatens his self-perception.

If anything, meeting Chuuya has sort of an opposite effect on Dazai. He goes through life unable to be surprised by anything, and then he meets Chuuya, who not only surprises him, but manages to impress him. (cue Dazai watching Chuuya fight with the closest his clinically depressed ass can get to heart eyes)

When you're that far gone into numbness, unable to afford sadness or anger, surprise might often be what will do the trick and bring you a step back. We see this happening even more clearly when Dazai meets Oda. Chuuya, in a sense, having managed to catch his attention even via mere annoyance, has a "grounding" effect on Dazai by indirectly teaching him what is and isn't a "human" way to behave. He doesn't do that because he cares about teaching him something, he does it because he's pissed off, but his admonitions are antithetical, for example, to Mori's approach, that seems to be doing the exact opposite. In contrast to an environment that encourages cold-blooded rationality, Chuuya's "actually, that's fucked up" reminders must have some effect, albeit small.

Both Fifteen and Dead Apple can be used as examples. In Fifteen, Chuuya scolds him for shooting a corpse, because that's an inhumane thing to do. In Dead Apple, he punches him for joking about someone's death, making a point of telling him that "nobody would believe he's human". That was cruel, and I bet it did hurt Dazai even a little bit, but the point got across. In Stormbringer, Dazai says that he couldn't possibly despise someone who isn't human that much. He becomes more aware of his own "inhuman" traits, through comparison with someone who is human enough to contrast them.

Yes, Dazai's human qualities would be a threat to him when he's being manipulated by Mori, and even more so if we assume that he came to be that way because of some trauma in his past, but his defense against that is numbing himself even more. Being so detached, it's debatable if he's even in a position to be seriously enraged by another person, including Chuuya.

Now, in my opinion, that doesn't make their dynamic weaker. Plus, it's possible that the "gap" grew smaller as time passed and Chuuya became more confident in his own nature. I just think that the reasons they have for not liking each other, as well as for putting their trust in one another, are different for each of them, which only makes their interactions more nuanced.

[valenteal]

I’ve been posting a lot about my thoughts on Dazai’s characterization and motivations but honestly I’ve been dedicating a lot more energy to trying to understand Oda. Dazai is an amazingly complex character but he’s a constant in the story and we know quite a lot about him, comparatively. Oda is incredibly mysterious and much harder to understand. My breakthrough earlier figuring out that Oda had the book has really helped me open my mind to another side of Oda I hadn’t yet considered.

The things is, authors have to be a bit cruel. Oda’s reasoning for not killing because he wanted to be a writer doesn’t make sense, we kill our own characters all the time. We put them through hell over and over for entertainment/to convey a deeper meaning. I think maybe one of the conditions of having the book is not killing directly, or maybe a certain level of removal from the storyline. Like, if you control reality and others lives with the book you’re giving up a certain amount of control physically in the moment.

Oda is a killer. He is friends with killers. And if I’m right about him being the author of the Dark Era he wrote the deaths of the kids. I think his reaction was genuine, I think he really felt like he shouldn’t have the book, that he didn’t deserve to be its author anymore, but I really think that he wrote the story to give Dazai the opportunity and the motivation to get a better life. I mean, I’ve made myself cry with my writing. The most compelling stories are full of tragedy.

Oda was a child assassin. He was a writer. He was a mafioso. But most of all he was Dazai’s friend.

Wait! Holy shit idea!

Okay so Natsume had the book before Oda, but he was definitely following Dazai around before he got the book so we know there’s already a connection there. I’ve been wondering why Oda was so attached to Dazai. But Natsume wrote the story he adored, the third installment which Oda finished was The Book. But what did Natsume write about? What exactly were the books Oda loved? What if it was Dazai’s story? What if Oda knows Dazai so well because he read his life story over and over and yearned to give him a happy ending? What if his whole motivation was to finish the story in a satisfying way? And everything from the orphan’s existence to Ango’s betrayal was to create an open ended story in which Dazai could potentially have have a better life?

Oda is such an incredible character. He’s full of contradictions until you actually start thinking of him as an author. We authors have strange minds, we love our characters but we put them through so much. Because we wouldn’t love them if we didn’t make them struggle, make them realistic and deep and meaningful. Oda knew the kids were going to die, he wrote it. But he got attached like anyone would. But he was done writing the story, all that was left was for it to play out. So he passed ownership of the book to Dazai and went to play his role.

Fuck I’m getting emotional omg Odasaku is wonderful. I don’t even care if the entire theory is wrong, I’ve figured Oda out with the information I was given and filled in the blanks. Asagiri himself wouldn’t be able to make me give this theory up.

Oda isn’t a good person with strong morals the way he presents himself. He does that to fill the mentor roll for Dazai and to get Dazai to make the desired decisions. He just a fan who was given control of the story by the original author and basically used all the writing tools ever to create a story in which the character he loved but who was tragically doomed and seeped in darkness could find some happiness. Just like anyone writing a fix-it fic. Accept his fix is canon.

Holy shit I’m a genius.

Don’t come at me you have no idea how proud I am of this! Either I figured out the most confusing character ever written or I have created a genius explanation that nothing will ever top (for me anyway).