#the ball detective agency

[incorrectly-quoted-queers]

I love living a life where I headcanon adult Riz and Fabian opening a spy/detective agency together and Riz does all the work while Fabian is the 007 face because Riz could not be bothered with having fangirls/talking to people.

TO BE VERY CLEAR: Our short king is hot adult goblin. He just doesn't care if people know that.

Meanwhile, Fabian will happily be known for being a hot detective/spy/Oracle of Dance/backup dancer for Fig's band/marketing face for Kristen's church/Gorgug's creations. Dude has a billion part-time jobs and he's doing fab.

Anyway Fabian just being The Face of many Bad Kids enterprises is such a vibe

[bluebugjay]

Charles really went into hell with a few lit molotov cocktails in his ludicrously capacious bag, a tiny notebook Edwin dropped like loot when he was taken that he ignored half the time, and a dream.

like he had no idea what creatures he would be up against when he got there but he locked eyes with the huge spider made of baby doll parts and thought, yeah that looks like something I can throw a bomb at and he did. And it worked.

[hannahhook7744]

Senior Ball Outfits For the main bda Members Including Elle ?

Jelle (Jace Badun x Princess Elle Athanasiou):

Heddie (Hermie Bing x Eddie Balthazar):

Rela (Yzla Sorcerer x Reza Vizer):

Harry Badun and Mystery Condrum Noir the Nunchuck Wielding Turtle:

The Picture Edits:

[agentearthling]

crystal in the shower after esther's but no matter how hard she scrubs she can't rid herself of the stench and memory of niko's blood

[seth-burroughs]

And you hate your boss at your job, well, in your dreams you can blow his head off.

[cryptidnest]

I don't think anyone from the Agency will be joining the maffia (or its going to be temporary) I think they are going to to help the maffia out and then in return Mori will let go of the exchange.

[leodehurlvant]

From that one meme song I saw on YouTube

(also the backward letters in Dazai part are due to a very specific headcanon I have that Dazai writes some characters wrong on purpose to anoy Kouyou)

[generalized-incompetence]

“You were the one who wanted to come to this ball," says Todd, crossing his arms over his ten-year-old, ill-fitting suit, "and you already want to leave? Come on, man."

Down below, couples spin and twirl across the polished floor. Chandeliers throw glittering light on velvet carpets and stately portraits. More to the point, a whole table full of champagne glasses rests against the far wall, next to stacks on stacks of enticing hors d'oeuvres. 

Dirk fidgets with his cuffs. "Want," he says, "is rather a strong word."

(Read on AO3 here)

Todd sighs for the eighth time in the past three minutes. "Well, it was your idea," he says. "And I wore this dumb suit and everything, so the least you can do is go stand against a wall and drink champagne for thirty minutes so you can tell the universe you gave it a good try."

He reaches for Dirk's wrist to pull him down the sweeping staircase, and Dirk, unexpectedly, pulls back. Todd frowns at him. Dirk doesn't meet his eyes. Todd wants to sigh again. Dirk hasn't shut up about this stupid ball since they broke into their suspect's office three weeks ago and found the invitation on gilded letterhead. He had a whole suit fitted. He's been blaring waltz music constantly. He went on about forks and place settings for so long that even Farah begged him to stop. He'd been his normal blithe self the whole ride here, waving the carefully forged invite at the doorman with nary a care in the world, but as soon as they'd gotten close enough to see the string quartet, he'd done... this.

"What," says Todd, "is wrong?"

"Nothing," says Dirk, unconvincingly.

Todd leans against the wall in anticipation that they may be here a while. He mentally bids his hors d'oeuvres goodbye. "Is this a universe thing or a Dirk thing?" he says. "Are you… nervous?"

Dirk glowers at him. "Don't be ridiculous," he says.

Todd struggles very hard not to say that he is not the one being ridiculous here. Dirk sticks his hands in his pockets and takes them out again. His suit looks... Well, it looks like it's been tailored specifically for him, because it has. The effort Todd is exerting not to have an opinion on this is definitely not contributing to his current level of annoyance.

"Do you want to stay here and I'll go?" he says.

"No," says Dirk quickly. He glances up at Todd and back down again. "I don't -" he says. "I don't know --"

In a flash of understanding so potent he might as well be holistic, Todd completes the sentence: "You don't know how to dance."

Dirk chews his lip, which is answer enough. Todd takes a slow breath and flexes his hands. Dirk knows so many things: the square root of pi; seventeen species of sharks; how to order spaghetti in five languages. But there's so many things he doesn't know, too, so much Blackwing has taken from him: Saturday morning cartoons. Cereal brands. How to ride a bike. 

Dancing.

Todd makes up his mind. He slips his hand down Dirk's wrist, intertwining with Dirk's fingers. "It's easy," he says, pulling Dirk down the stairs. "I'll show you."

Dirk comes with him this time, and before Todd knows it, they're on the dance floor, just at the periphery of the swirling crowds. It smells like flowers and perfume, and the quartet is starting up a new waltz, and Todd has never in his life pictured himself at an actual, honest-to-God ball, but here he is anyway. He tugs Dirk closer to him, placing a hand on Dirk's waist. "Put your hand on my shoulder," he instructs, "and... follow me."

Todd is not the world's greatest dancer, obviously, but he can follow a beat, and waltzing is just three steps. Dirk stumbles over his feet, and then over Todd's, but Todd just keeps leading them around the edges of the floor, and eventually, he feels Dirk relax.

"Not too bad?" Todd says.

"Mm," says Dirk. He's still staring intently at his feet, though he’s got the steps down pat by now. Todd feels an inexpressible surge of fondness, followed by a tempting idea. 

“Maybe,” he says, “one day, you’ll be good enough to even look up from the floor.”

Dirk huffs and jerks his head up, and Todd immediately spins Dirk out under his arm and back again, laughing at the shock and surprise on Dirk’s face. “What was that for?” says Dirk indignantly as Todd steadies Dirk back in his arms.

Todd shrugs. “Thought you could handle it,” he says, grinning. “Was I wrong?”

Dirk frowns, his face flushed, and Todd knows he’s caught between telling Todd off and proving him right. “Again,” he demands, and Todd complies. 

And…

The instant he lets go of Dirk’s waist, time seems to slow, light flashing off the glass chandeliers brightly enough to make Todd blink. The universe shifts minutely around him, and when he opens his eyes again, there’s something different. On the first spin, Dirk nearly tripped; he bumped into Todd’s arm on the way out and in, and he took several steps to get his footing back after. This time, he doesn’t miss a beat. At the furthest extension, he even reaches out, head tilting like he’s doing ballet, eyes half-lidded and a smile playing around the edges of his lips. Todd’s heart skips, and then Dirk is back, not looking down now, confident and sure.

Dirk’s smile slides into something cocky and self-satisfied. “I suppose you were right,” he says.

“You cheated,” says Todd, when he can say things again.

“Slander!” Dirk gasps. “How does one cheat at dancing?”

“Universe dancing skills don’t count,” says Todd.

“Todd,” says Dirk smugly, “the universe doesn’t work like that, as you well know, and if it did, I doubt dancing skills would be at the top of my wishlist. Firearm skills, perhaps. Hand-eye coordination in general. Though, in all fairness, I have solved several cases by the application of judicious tripping, so perhaps poor coordination is a skill in and of itself. Would that fit on my resume, do you think?”

“Why do you need a resume?” says Todd, and then, “Well, you did something, because - oh, shit, there’s Danvers.”

Dirk gasps as Todd quickly rotates to show him, and the next few minutes are spent in targeted waltzing towards the target. Todd is barely leading, Dirk inventing or remembering new steps on the way, and it’s probably fortunate Todd can pretend to concentrate on the case, because he can’t pretend to be normal right now. Dirk’s hand is burning a hole in his shoulder, and Dirk’s waist feels so right beneath his palm, and Dirk in full form, beneath the crystal lights, is so striking, Todd can barely stand it. He gives up on breathing or thinking and just lets Dirk do what Dirk does best, which is to go where the universe takes him, with Todd awestruck in his wake.

They confront Danvers, and there’s a dance-off, of sorts, and the hors d'oeuvres table is upturned across the floor. When all is said and done, the jewels recovered from the chandelier, both of their suits are in tatters. The guests have all fled, the quartet abandoned ship, and the rescued champagne long since flat. But when they leave the mansion triumphant, Todd knows the case isn’t what he’ll remember.

“Gosh, my feet ache,” says Dirk, flopping down on the curb. “I knew I didn’t have suitable footwear. Remind me to break in my shoes before our next ball.”

“Next ball?” says Todd.

Dirk looks vaguely surprised. “I assume so,” he says. “I’d no idea you were such an accomplished dancer. You’ve been holding out on me, Todd.”

“Me?” says Todd, pulling exasperation on like a faded sweater. “You’re the one who hid upstairs for an hour and then won the…” He’s not saying dance-off. “Whatever that was.”

“Mm. I learn fast.” Dirk nudges Todd’s shoulder. “But I learned everything from you.”

It is not fair, Todd thinks, that Dirk’s face can do this. It is not fair when Dirk melts into this smile, radiating more emotion than Todd hopes to deserve. It is not fair that, scratched and grimed-up in a suit ripped beyond repair, Dirk still looks better than anyone else at the ball. “Thank you,” says Dirk softly, and Todd has to turn away.

“Yeah, well,” says Todd, his voice thick, “just doing my job.”

“Mm,” says Dirk, and leans his head on Todd’s shoulder, and Todd doesn’t know what this means but he would do anything to make this last. “You’re a good partner, Todd,” says Dirk, and Todd doesn’t even have the heart to make light of the apparent promotion. He just grunts, and shifts to accommodate Dirk’s head, and hopes Dirk knows some of what he feels.

Eventually, Farah comes running back out, in far better shape than either of them. “Alright, we’re square with the police,” she says. “Ready to go?”

Dirk stretches upwards. “I’m starved,” he says. “Dancing really takes it out of you. Anyone up for milkshakes?”

Farah blinks at him. “You dance?” she says.

“Obviously,” says Dirk, heading towards the car. “Don’t you?”

Farah looks at Todd, who just shrugs. “Always full of surprises,” Farah sighs.

“Yeah,” says Todd, following Dirk with a smile. “Yeah, he is.”

(Tagging @glittter-skeleton and @mowi0205 for your lovely and inspiring ballroom art <3)

[homoquartz]

small dead boy detective things that mean a lot to meee personally

charles greeting clients sitting ass-forward on edwin's desk like a decorative bobblebead doll

emma's pet squid

edwin and charles dressed down to their undershirts

charles bouncing a ball while edwin studies

exchanging baffled looks while demon!crystal does weird stuff

"the fish are washing away the runes!"

ghost in a sheet david

the cool way the boys climb down from the ceiling on the tram

edwin telling crystal "you're welcome" for exorcising david, smug as can be

whisper arguing while crystal sleeps

crystal: "i'm being mean to you" charles: 😃

all the clue boards

crystal caring about that lost little girl SO MUCH she will physically cross an ocean for her

"it's not the two dead boys and one living psychic girl detective agency. that's a rubbish name." (charles shaking his head fondly)

"go on then... follow her."

the boys IMMEDIATELY snooping in niko's room

edwin so upset about crystal choosing to let david in that his bow tie comes undone

"a sexy witch who smokes a lot but in a cool way"

esther closing the car door on her jacket and leaving it that way (also imagining esther taking a driving test)

synchronized heel turn

"we're punishing you"

charles fully up on the counter hauling edwin up from the pit, but still bantering with monty

monty: caw!! 😡

charles getting knocked down and edwin "why would i need to hit someone, charles?" payne charging esther fist-first

[asidian]

Set breakdown time! Next up: the boys' London office.

As before, I've circled the points of interest and numbered them to make them easier to talk about. Cool? Cool. Let's do this!

1: They have matching top hats. This is so charming I just can't even. Did they need them for a case, or were they just being silly? Either way, this is adorable.

2: They have their name properly in glass on the door. It seems to read "Dead Boy Detective Agency," though I'm not 100% sure on the final word.

3: An early/supernatural style of camera? Perhaps a pair of binoculars? Likely some sort of equipment for cases, at any rate.

4: One of these boys is fond of random eye décor, and it is so odd and funny. Love this for them.

5: Someone has a long coat and straw hat. My money's on Edwin, since that style of hat was popular in the Edwardian era.

6: They have matching… whatever these are? They look almost like wine bottles, but neither of them can drink, so I have no idea. If anyone has any thoughts, feel free to share.

7: The mirror they pop in and out of when they need to visit the office.

8: A volleyball, I think? Random sporting equipment of Charles', in any case. This seems to be distinct from the soccer ball he's playing with in the demon prep montage. It lives by the couch; it's also there in the scene when Crystal is napping in their office.

9: A single foosball stick, without the rest of the table, mounted up on the wall. Incredible.

10: Some sort of a framed certificate. I think it has their names on it, but it's very hard to see. If anyone has managed to get a better shot/decipher, please feel free to share.

11: A random ship in a bottle.

12: A taxidermy wolf's head. Boys. Boys, why.

13: So many board games. I can make out at least six editions of Clue, Aggravation, Yahtzee, a Ouija board, and Scotland Yard. The rest are all too blurry for me to read, but again, please do chime in if you're able to identify any of the others.

14: Last but absolutely not least, Charles has a tiny soccer ball in a posed wooden mannequin hand. Perfect. Amazing. No notes.

[deadboyween]

DEADBOYWEEN PROMPTS!!

Text-version Prompt List and inspiration below the cut!

Oct 21st: Day 1 - Colours

We made sure to include a few vaguer prompts for a wider range of creative ideas!! Colours could really be anything: Niko while she's possessed by the sprites, a different character having a run-in with a similarly colourful creature, or even something that just uses colour connotations or symbolism!! Get creative!

Oct 22nd: Day 2 - Comfort

One of the non-spooky prompts for day 2. It could be the boys comforting each other after a particularly difficult case, or a character study about something they find comfort in, or even just characters having a well-deserved day off from the Horrors

Oct 23rd: Day 3 - Disguise

The obvious one here would be Charles and Edwin's human disguises, but there's so much to play with. Works could perhaps feature the group going undercover on a case, or maybe the Cat King causing mischief again with his shapeshifting

Oct 24th: Day 4 - Orbs

Okay, you just know we had to put this one in there, everyone needs more Orbwin and Chorb content in their life right? What are our favourite glowing balls of light up to now? Why are they orb-ed? Is it a willing transformation or a result of exhaustion?

Oct 25th: Day 5 - Family

Family can mean a lot of things. Blood family? Could be an introspection into Charles's family back when he was alive, or Crystal trying to reconcile with her parents, Niko's grief, Monty's relationship with Esther... Or could be found family: the group choosing one another over everyone else, forming their own bonds more important than blood. Works can encompass many different character dynamics so go crazy!

Oct 26th: Day 6 - Casefic

The group are on a case!! Works could be a retelling of one of the show cases, or maybe one from the comics, or an entirely original one. It could be a simple run-of the-mill haunting or perhaps one that runs deeper, one that affects one or more members of the agency in some way

Oct 27th: Day 7 - The Endless

In the show we meet Death and Despair, but this prompt could feature one of the Dead Boy Detectives characters meeting one or more of the Siblings. Maybe they visit the Dreaming, or have a run in with Desire

Oct 28th: Day 8 - Free Day

No prompt for this day!! Works can be anything you like, unconnected to any of the suggested themes!!

Oct 29th: Day 9 - Myths / Legends

Charles referenced Orpheus and Eurydice in episode 7 but there's so much to work with with mythology from all over the world. These works could be a retelling of a story from an ancient mythology, or imagining the characters meeting a creature from a legend

Oct 30th: Day 10 - Hell

Really getting into the Horrors of the event now. Hell is such an important part of the series, especially for Edwin. These works must simply incorporate Hell in some way. Perhaps it's set during Edwin's 73 years in Hell, or maybe another character has an experience in the place, or with one of its many creatures. Really looking forward to seeing the potential body horror with this one

Oct 31st: Day 11 - Halloween

Day 11 is the main event. For such a spooky show, there's got to be a lot of Halloween inspiration. What do ghosts even do on Halloween? Do they dress up? Party? Haunt the living? It's entirely up to you!

Nov 1st: Day 12 - Psychic

These works must involve something psychic. Whether it be Crystal and her powers, another person with similar abilities, or any other creature that really gets in the head of the characters

Nov 2nd: Day 13 - Pre-Canon

There's so much to work with before the 2023 setting of the show. Over 30 years of the Dead Boy Detective Agency, the ghosts' lives, Edwin's Hell. Even for other characters: what happened during the Cat King's first two lives? What has Esther been up to for the last several hundred years? What's the Night Nurse's job like when she hasn't got two tricky ghost detectives to deal with?

Nov 3rd: Day 14 - AU

The only rule is: put those characters somewhere else. It could be a different time period, or characters could be different in some way. What if the Alive Girls were the Dead Girls? Or Charles and Edwin were Charlie and Edith? So excited to see everyone's ideas for every prompt, but especially this one, this fandom is so creative when it comes to AUs!!

Happy creating!!

[cvntydazai]

cat and mouse

ever since your first day at the agency you’ve made an effort to avoid dazai and his silly little games, even when he so desperately craves your attention.

pairing; dazai osamu x fem!reader

word count; 3.3k

content warning; nsfw (minors do not interact), unedited, cursing, dazai fingers reader, reader is gifted but their gift is not described/specified, the usual dazai shenanigans, mentions of blood/injury, mentions of murder, probably a lot more

authors note; sigh not only is this a day late but i’m not proud of it so sorry guys :( been so busy lately this was not what i had in mind for this fic, i still hope it’s enjoyable!

when you first joined the agency it was a desperate attempt to find a job that could utilize your gift, after many failed “normal” jobs you just had to accept that your situation wasn’t normal and you needed a job that could handle that. you caught wind of a detective agency full of gifted individuals and knew it was the perfect opportunity.

that’s how you got to where you were now, 6 months into your career as a gifted detective. it has been going perfect, being the longest job you’ve ever had.

there was just one issue, a big one that took its place in the form of a tall, bandaged man who could never leave you alone. dazai osamu, the issue called itself, would be the death of you.

it all started on your very first day at the agency, he wasted little time introducing himself and instead put all of his energy towards wooing you with those doe eyes. you also recall him telling you could rely on him anytime, followed by a wink and a knowing smirk. you were warned by yosano to keep your distance from him, advice that you still regret not taking to this day.

he tried to get your attention for weeks, throwing paper balls on your desk and mouthing at you to open them. inside was always a love note, multiple tiny hearts littering the crumpled paper. he never seemed to take it personally when you would throw those papers in your trash can, forgetting about them to continue on with work.

just when you begin to think he’s finally let go of his obsession with you, one fateful morning you end up alone with him in the office.

“ah, beautiful morning isn’t?” he attempted small talk, you only offered a nod and continued filing out your paperwork.

so engrossed in your work you didn’t realize how close he had gotten until you felt his warm breath fanning your shoulder, you naturally flinched. you cocked your head to glance at him, those tired eyes focused on your computer screen.

“what has you working your sweet little head off?” his curiosity would seem genuine to anyone who wasn’t familiar with dazai and his antics.

you cleared your throat, “just recalling the specifics of my previous mission.” he hummed, his slim hand brushing over yours so he could use the scroll wheel on your mouse. you watched as his eyes scanned the document, analyzing your every word.

being so physically close you were forced to take in all the features of him you chose to ignore, for your own good. you knew dazai was an attractive man, and he knew it too. you didn’t dare to look in his eyes anymore so you focused on his hair, unkempt yet still framed his face perfectly and looked fluffy, you wondered if it felt fluffy too.

“it’s hard to focus with you staring me down like a piece of meat, bella.” he whispered, you gasped at such an accusation.

“whatever, in your dreams.” you bit back, feeling flustered.

he turned to look at you, his eyes danced around your entire face, drinking in every detail of you like a book. many silent moments later, his eyes stopped when they landed on your lips, causing even more turmoil in your chest. it was all too much, being under the heavy gaze of someone like him.

“anyways..” you start, trying to find any excuse to break this close proximity. “the others should be here soon, we should start getting stuff done around here.”

he hummed in agreement, backing away at last. now that you felt like you could breathe again you tried your hardest to continue on with whatever paperwork you had. you ignored the tremble in your fingertips, typing away on the keyboard.

once the others started filing into the office the tension eased substantially, you were thankful for that. kunikida was the first to arrive, surprised to see you both already there. you ignored his curious stare, greeting him properly and then returning to your computer. dazai pestered the poor man for a bit before quieting down himself.

you thought that was it, the weird encounter in the office would be the last of his teasing. couldn’t he see you weren’t in the mood for his games, or was this all too amusing for him to care?

fate would put you in a battle against dazai once again just a mere week later. you both sat in front of your boss, a kind man by the name of fukuzawa. in your months here at the agency your respect for him has only grown, his admiration for his employees and the work they do warmed your heart. you truly felt grateful to be under the command of someone as strong-willed and humble as he was.

“there’s a murder scene i’d like the two of you to look into, please go gather evidence.” he says, hands folded in his lap while he speaks to you.

you’re both silent as he goes over the details of the case. a body found in the museum with suspicion of a gifted individual being involved, it felt as normal as these missions usually are. once you’re dismissed you and dazai make your way outside to the cab waiting for you.

he rushes to open the car door for you, motioning you inside with an eager smile. you sigh, complying with whatever he was up to.

you shuffle around a bit until you’re comfortable, dazai takes his seat beside you and the car begins moving. while dazai stared out of the window on his side, you occupy yourself with responding to all the messages people have sent you that you pushed aside to finish work. some may call you a workaholic (dazai), others (kunikida) call you a devoted employee, you much preferred the title of a devoted employee. your desire to be of use was finally fulfilled now that you were at the agency, for that you were eternally thankful.

“my dear y/n, i just realized something!” the loud voice of dazai makes you cringe, clutching your poor phone into a death grip.

he doesn’t let you respond, “this is our first time handling a case together alone, just the two of us!” the excitement in his tone makes you irritated.

“and what about it?” your monotonous response makes the brunette clutch his chest, a look of hurt in his eyes.

“we finally get the alone time we’ve been dying to have since our little moment in the office.” if the phone that was still being strangled in your palm wasn’t already broken, it sure was now.

“you totally misread the situation in the office, i wasn’t even looking at you like that!” the anger in your tone came across as an embarrassed yelp, it made his grin grow wider.

there was no point in arguing with a man who has made up his mind, he totally thought you were checking him out and now he’ll never back down. an exasperated sigh left your lips, deeply regretting not taking yosano’s warning seriously.

thankfully, all you had to endure for the rest of the car ride was dazai’s humming to a tune you were unfortunately accustomed to by now. it was hard to forget said song when it was always filling the office air, either by dazai’s singing or the sound blaring from his headphones that were definitely not noise-canceling.

hell, you even caught yourself humming the tune from time to time, not that you’d ever let someone else find out.

“we’re here.” you thanked the driver, hastily leaving the vehicle before dazai could open the door for you.

the museum in front of you was old, ready to crumble at any given moment, many of the stone bricks were cracked beyond repair and the shrubs that surrounded the entrance were all dead or dying. you never got the details on whether or not the place was even running anymore.

“this museum shut down years ago and no one has bought it since, perfect place to commit murder.” dazai appeared beside you, seemingly answering the question to your thoughts.

you nodded in agreement, stepping inside without a second thought.

inside all you could see was chaos, shattered glass from broken display cases and graffiti littering the walls. it almost pained you, seeing how this once beautiful sanctuary of history was now torn to shreds for no good reason.

you found what you were looking for quick, the bright yellow caution tape gave it away. you’re sure the police had already come to take the body, so it didn’t surprise you when you didn’t see anything there.

fukuzawa strictly said you were only here to gather evidence, so that’s what you’ll do. while you got to work, dazai lazed around the building, kicking random trash around to entertain himself. he would giggle when you scolded him for tampering with possible clues.

you knew you were only here to gather evidence but something about the whole situation felt so strange to you, leaving you no choice but to investigate further. normally, you pride yourself in how well you are at gathering information needed for an investigation, but this time around you were completely stumped.

it had your brain so wracked you even contemplated calling ranpo, however you fought against it since you knew he was already working on a case today and you didn’t want to bother him just because you couldn’t find clues that may not exist.

after a few more minutes of coming back empty handed the realization hit you like a truck, a soft breath leaving your lips at your newfound discovery.

“dazai..” you mumble, still a bit unsure of your conclusion, he only hummed in response.

“i don’t think a murder ever occurred here.” nothing but silence on his part, until you hear the shuffling of his footsteps and his breath hot against your ear.

“well done, flower! to be honest, i didn’t think you would figure it out this quickly.” his hushed voice felt loud with him being so close to you.

you were left confused once again, if dazai knew from the start why didn’t he just say so? or was he the one who orchestrated this whole thing? so many questions reeling through your brain, and dazai was thoroughly enjoying watching you piece together the mystery he created for you.

but alas, he had to cut it short, you two had limited time here after all. fukuzawa would eventually figure out dazai’s antics and there would be hell to pay, that was a problem for later though.

“i made the whole thing up!” he admitted, lips still dangerously close to your ear. “you were always so busy, i needed to get you alone for once.”

you pushed him off you in an instant, anger bubbling inside you. never once did you expect dazai to do something like this, no matter how crazy he was at times. hell, this was beyond crazy.

“you couldn’t have gone about it like a normal fucking person? jesus christ, dazai!” you were now pacing, thinking of all the time you lost entertaining this game of his when it could have been spent at the office or on a real case.

“oh bella please, let me finish.” he begged, stepping close to you again.

you protested for a second time, taking a step back so he couldn’t reach you. it would prove to be the wrong move, your ankle catching on a stray piece of rubble from all the broken displays in this damned building. you’re sent tumbling backwards, a cry leaving your lips as you reached out to grasp dazai’s open arms.

your landing is hard, your ankle throbbing with pain from whatever it was caught on. dazai is at your side in an instant, a look of concern adorning his features as he practically cradled you.

“are you okay?” his voice was serious this time around, so much so that it caught you off guard.

“no, my ankle is bleeding.” you state, clear annoyance in your voice whilst you examine your injury.

you’re caught off guard once again by him effortlessly picking you up from the floor and setting you down on a flat, clean surface. now perched on a white table, you let your other leg dangle off the edge while you tend to your hurt ankle.

dazai claims he’ll be back, that he’s going to search for a medkit around here. you nod, happy to be away from his suffocating presence. you’re not anywhere near free from your thoughts though, the lanky man is still clean in your mind.

you didn’t even know he possessed the strength to lift you like that, he always looked so frail and ready to break at any given. you shake your head from any further thoughts of dazai, that stupid man.

“found one.” he was back again, a small medkit in his rather large hands.

despite your many protests he still insisted on caring for you, acknowledging that this was his fault and the responsibility should fall on his shoulders. you kept your mouth shut while he wrapped your foot in the bandages the first aid kit provided. his soft touches to your swollen skin were light, almost soothing.

you hated this, hated how perfect he was. how were you supposed to ignore such a man when his presence was everywhere. most of all though, you were still thoroughly pissed! he not only wasted your time, but the agency’s time, and that was unforgivable in your eyes.

“why?” you question him, “and don’t give me that bullshit ass excuse from before, or so help me.”

he chuckled at your threatening words, eyes remained trained on your foot. there was a momentary pause before his eyes met yours, his held mischievous undertones.

“i was getting tired of this back and forth, you know.” there he goes again like a broken record, you huffed.

“i don’t know what you’re-“ he cuts you off with a finger to your lips, hushing you in the sweetest way he could muster.

“the other day, when you threw away one of my well thought out love letters i went to retrieve it after you left to the bathroom, can you imagine my surprise to find it wasn’t there anymore?” your eyes widen, like a deer caught in the bright headlights of a hunters truck.

“and then i go to check your locker and i see every single one of them in a nice neat stack.” his finger was taken off your lips, his eyebrow raised as if expecting an answer to his discovery.

“why were you in my locker?” you deflect, feeling embarrassed that he knew about your little secret.

instead of answering he finished wrapping your foot, giving the gauze one final tug before leaving it be. he smiled at you, a smile you couldn’t read. with your legs spread out like they were, it gave him the perfect opportunity to weave in between them and trap your body close to his. he did just that, growing dangerously close to you.

“dazai..” you start, unsure.

he doesn’t say anything, instead focusing on treading his fingers against your waist, eyes never once leaving yours.

“we shouldn’t..” you speak again, your breathing growing more sporadic when he hooks one of his fingers underneath your belt buckle, the way he plays with it is teasing.

“why shouldn’t we, bella? i arranged all of this for us anyways.” his way of showing interest in you, doing something so unsound with little care for the consequences.

but oh god, was it attractive. his touch grew more and more needy by the second and you couldn’t find the desire to push him away, because deep down you wanted this too. you knew you wanted the bandaged detective the second you walked through those doors and saw him sitting there, fiddling with little trinkets he had on his desk looking pretty as ever.

“i think we should put an end to this cat and mouse game, hm?” his voice fills your ears again and this time around you listen, nodding whilst wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even tighter against you.

he’s first to put his lips on yours in a desperate, longing kiss. he tastes sweet, probably from whatever chapstick he uses. the kiss is deeply rooted in lust yet affection as well, he squeezes your waist in the lightest way possible.

“dazai!” you moan out, surprised when he bites your bottom lip teasingly.

“osamu.” he says through the kiss. “call me osamu.” and then he’s back to attacking you, hips rutting into yours.

you think you’ll pass out with how long he’s been kissing you but he eventually pulls away, leaving you gasping for air. he wastes little time, discarding his pants and helping you with yours, the desperation evident in his eyes as he stands before you in just his boxers and dress shirt. he looks like a crazed man who had been holding back for far too long.

once you’re free from the confines of clothing it allows him to truly feel you, his palm cupping your heat. he runs two fingers across your slit before prodding them at your entrance.

“so beautiful, everything about you is so beautiful.” he whispers, stopping his hand entirely.

“dazai.” you say again, sounding more desperate than before, it was even possible.

“osamu.” he corrects, his voice still soft but held hints of firmness.

you repeat his first name back to him and he finally slips two fingers into your cunt. his long fingers are able to reach parts inside of you that your own fingers can’t, the new length has you bucking your hips into his hand.

he lets out a muffled giggle but says nothing, his eyes watching the way you suck his fingers in with every thrust. he looks entranced by the sight, it leaves you feeling shy. you have no time to dwell on your embarrassment as he picks up his pace, along with adding a third digit to your already full pussy.

the stretch of the third finger and the change in pace has you throwing your head back, nails clawing at the table you were perched up against just to give yourself some sort of stability.

you feel your climax approaching quicker than you anticipated, shaking your head from the overstimulation. just before you were about to reach your high, it was ruined by a muffled ringing in dazai’s discarded pants. he pulls his fingers out of you in a swift motion, ignoring your whines of protest as he reaches to grab the phone from his pants pocket.

“hey boss.” he starts, his voice as quirky as ever.

you could hear fukuzawa’s irritated tone through the phone even if you couldn’t pick up his exact words. dazai simply hummed and nodded in agreement, even letting out an apology for the time wasted on a fake case. within just a few minutes the call was over, and dazai’s smile had grown even larger.

he ended the call with a sigh, a pout on his lips that told you he was definitely in trouble when you two got back to the agency. you wondered what excuse he’d give the boss, and what punishment he would receive for lying.

“i’m truly saddened to have to cut this short.” you knew he meant it, you gave him a smile.

“it’s okay, we’ll continue it tonight after we see what kind of hell fukuzawa is gonna put you through for this.” the promise of this continuing excited him, and for once he couldn’t wait to get back to the office to finish up his job.

he helped you put your pants back on before putting on his own, making sure your injury was still well taken care of. this time you don’t fight him even once, allowing him to assist you to the car that was waiting outside for the two of you.

[idliketobeatree]

dead boy detectives characters as art objects and sculptures; extended ---

hello, i remembered i made some subjective explanations and notes on few of my choices for this post, and i thought some folks might enjoy it. soo let's get into it.

1.

monty finch

author: anders krisár

pretty self-explanatory; it's a moulded male torso with visible inprints on its skin.

anders krisár’ artistry explores the themes of loss, separation, and the condition of the psyche through the lens of a human body in duality: perfectionism meets unsettlement, skin meets marble and bronze and polyester, to create sculptures spanning geological time far beyond the living's capabilities.

monty's creation by esther was already stripped of any human agency. "he was made a boy, not a person", small, almost doll-sized, with a singular purpose: to seduce and entice the chosen dead boy into their doom. the naked skin and specifically the position of its arms are mildly erotic, but in a way that makes your skin crawl. the imprints are intimate, placed possesive; notice the thumbs digging close to especially sensitive areas like nipples and the belly button.

the latter seems to connect the "creator" to the subject, the navel here as a symbol of cruel, invasive motherhood. the fact that the torso is cut off in the middle and at the neck furthers the uncanny valley feeling of a young male body, but then again. this is a realistic portrayal. so was it ever a person? what does it have inside to make dents so profound? how deep you can press until it breaks?

--- i'm leaving out crystal and edwin (for now?), but @nicheoverhere brilliantly noticed that it was the same author for both. that was intentional! because glen martin taylor is all about taking kintsugi, which is a beautiful art form of repairing fine china and generally delicate things with veins of precious metals, but with materials like— nails. scissors. barbed wire. all ugly. the repair after a great shattering is seldom pretty after all, they really are similar in this regard. ---

2.

charles rowland

author: robert hudson

okay, strap in. this funky dreamy world belongs to robert hudson, and i picked it for charles rowland because it's all first impressions. the colours? the composition? they give you the 80s vibes, almost; like something a kid would design if you asked them what a time machine would look like. it could probably move in several ways. the pieces seem mismatched, but hold themselves together surprisingly well. or maybe you underestimate it?

it's neither big nor small. you can't tell its size at all. it's a bit overwhelming to look at, at first, and at second, and after a while, but it carries that comfortable familiarity and nostalgia for— well, nothing in particular, because the longer you look, the sadder its past seems. the bold pops of contrasting colour are fighting for your attention. they want you to like it! and yet, the major material seems to be just. rusted steel. made from tools.

and look at that botched up sphere, it wants so badly to be a perfect sphere and it knows it'll never be one. fine!! perhaps it could be a football ball instead! or maybe a head. if you close your eyes, that is. and this facing-up horseshoe? a lucky charm, made to collect good luck and keep it from falling out cause god, it needs it.

---

3.

niko sasaki

author: justin cloud

---

niko sasaki, now how do i describe her? let's start by saying— she's cleary a her. this one is a she. and there's something to be said about blooming, and femininity, and delicacy, because pink is a hopeful girly colour and a surprise and a delight.

what are you doing in a gallery, little flower, shouldn't you be at home? in a field? look how pretty you are! mind you, of course there's something wrong with her as well, but you're not sure if that is because someone messed it up, or because of a different entity alltogether. was it always half-electric? its elegance seems purposeful— the iridescent metal fits all too well with the white-pink petals— but also uncanny. and oh suddenly you can't stop looking at the stigma from which a pollen should release aaany time now.

when i look at her, at her black artificial stem and the small leaves imitating the real ones, i wonder if she doesn't want to lure me into a trap. is it her fault?

the beautiful petals seem like the only thing left real of the flower. whichever way she turns, it will probably mean— death. and flowers are ephemeral. what is a flower mounted to a wall, fortified with steel, connected with cables and enfused with electrical energy, then?

i think she's a self-preserving survivor. ---

4.

the night nurse

author: elizabeth turk

---

now. the night nurse.

of course it's the only piece in the collection where the background needed to be dark. no one here is older than her. there is no inoffensive, fading-into-background white for this absolute pillar of truth. or maybe something like a totem, quite protective in nature. and it's terrifying, 'cause you're immediately hit with the feeling that you're looking at something out of this realm, something you're not supposed to witness. the perspective is all wrong. is it downwards or upwards? why does it seem unstable when the pieces are so perfectly centered and seemingly well-balanced? child, you should calm down, it's not like you will destroy it with a stronger puff of air. will you?

this sculpture is called "tipping point — echoes of extinction", and it's actually a mix of technology and sculpture and sound, with elegant visualizations of the lost voices of birds and sea mammals. the author said it "was conceived in reverence to the astounding lives the species which envelop humans have lived and the mysterious ways they have contributed to our well-being. the shadows of their memory, whether a shape or a sound, have inspired this project." so the piece deals with death. moreover, it deals with murder. it records the harsh reality and makes sure the ones that suffered horribly at the hands of humans are, in a way, celebrated. but also— categorised. like epitaphs. the birdsong, once a living sign, is only visually represented by the lines of varying lenghts in 3D, and you can do nothing about it anymore, right, you can't bring back the dead, you can't help the innocent dying in any way other than— stacking them on top of each other and moving on.

---

so that's for now, i might someday write more if anyone's curious. :")

[wordsinhaled]

payneland neighbors AU

(a.k.a. one of my million WIPs that may actually be seeing the light of day)

edwin is an Alive Boy, who has had a near-death experience being bullied while he was at school, so he can now see ghosts.

charles is a Dead Boy, who is starting a detective agency out of his new flat, which happens to be next door to edwin's.

edwin does not realize charles is a ghost at first.

they are mutually down bad and trying hard (and failing) to be normal about it.

pining and shenanigans ensue.

should be able to get this posted to Ao3 sometime later today as chapter 1/? of who knows how many because apparently payneland has made me that person with multiple multichapter WIPs, lmao ~*~*~

Edwin does not think about his new neighbor across the hall.

(Said new neighbor's name, it will turn out, is Charles.

And Edwin most certainly does not fixate on the compelling glint of Charles' single earring in the sun, or the curve of his smile so easily offered.)

The story of it is this: Edwin had held the door to their building for him one fine spring day. Simple politeness, and moreover basic human decency, both dictated this was the proper thing to do for someone carrying such an absurd quantity of unwieldy parcels.

He had not expected the stranger to look so taken aback.

(He had an honest-to-goodness crystal ball propped precariously atop a stack of antique-looking books; and those teetered on top of several cardboard boxes near buckling under the weight of whatever they held within. A cricket bat protruded from the pin-encrusted rucksack slung over his shoulder. People did insist on having such incongruous pastimes, Edwin thought; and, apparently, atrocious packing habits to go along with them.

But the titles of the volumes Edwin managed to glimpse were as intriguing as the crystal ball was misguided—and he'd found himself rather helplessly curious.

"Cheers, mate!" the person he will soon know to be Charles had said, sounding obscenely grateful as he manouevred his way inside, and had flashed Edwin a grin so radiant and wide it hurt Edwin's cheeks in sympathy just to look at it.

Still, Edwin tried to think no more on him; nor on how surprised he'd appeared to be at Edwin's tiny show of kindness—at Edwin's perceiving him at all, even. Tried being the operative word.)

He'd been aware Jenny was letting the rooms across the hall, because she asked him several weeks ago if he might know any potential tenants. Edwin had informed her he did not. His last neighbor had listened to ungraciously-loud electropop at all hours of the night and harbored a seemingly endless stream of stray cats despite Jenny's very clear policy against animals.

Edwin would far prefer the space to stay blessedly vacant and blissfully quiet for as long a stretch as possible. He deserved some sort of a reprieve, he'd thought.

it seems he is not about to get one.

Edwin is reading when he hears a muffled string of colorful swearing, the lugging of things, the scraping of furniture across hardwood floors. While he may be able to studiously avoid thinking about the beautiful boy he'd met downstairs, Edwin cannot escape the inevitable and inconvenient fact that they will now be living in proximity. The telltale commotion that can only be made by someone moving in comes right to his proverbial stoop.

Who else could it be but him?

Edwin sighs. The only thing for it, he supposes, is to go over and introduce himself.

[freakspectors]

HELUVAKINKTOBER: DAY 4 - PROSTITUTION.

A Dazai Osamu | BSD x Gender-Neutral Smut Fanfic.

warnings ; smut , reader is a prostitute , rough sex, dacryphilia , hair pulling , doggy style , spanking?? maybe?? , begging , etc .

author's note ; don't worry. daddy's home. HIHI EVERYONE!!! im so many days behind but shh we dont talk about that. i got grounded and i have so much going on but remember what i said on the masterlist? fuck it, WE BALL!!!! anyways this seems really mediocre but i need to catch up really fast so... enjoy what you can ^^

heluvakinktober 2023 m.list .

Nights get desolate when the Ex-Mafia member isn’t attempting suicide. Tonight, Dazai seemed to be particularly lonely — he was yearning for another. No, not for a double suicide — get the idea of suicide out of your head, goddamn it. What the detective needed was someone to fornicate with, naturally. But a trail of broken hearts follows his path in life; all of said hearts being his own.. But hearts nonetheless.

His hands just wouldn’t do it for him this time around. No matter how fast he stroked, what he fantasized about, anything at all — he couldn’t get himself off. So, what was this renowned agent of the Armed Detective Agency doing in solution to his predicament?

He hired a prostitute.

He hired you.

Dazai’s cock drilled into your cum-stuffed hole, his shaft sliding in and out with ease. Moist sounds of skin against skin fill the room each time he bottoms out. The hefty headboard slams against the wall, its sound resembling objects falling during an earthquake. You bury your head into his pillow, moans unmuffling after each harsh thrust. 

You’ve serviced many needy men throughout your career, yes, but there’s something.. different about Dazai. Perhaps it was his odd sense of charm? His concerning amount of bandages? Perhaps even the fact he’s fucking you like it’s the baby boom all over again. You couldn’t even fathom how good he felt inside of you, much unlike your older clients.

A smack on your ass brings you out of your daze. You wince at the sting, looking back at the brunette pistoning himself inside you with a broad smile on his face. His other hand rests on your hair, gripping onto you as he rails you into oblivion.

“What is it, bella? Did I hurt you too much?” Dazai pouts, gently caressing the red mark. You bob your head, eyes glossy as the young man laughs in your face. “Awe, poor baby. Do you want me to slow down?”

Before you could even muster up an answer, Dazai slowed his hips until he eventually came to a stop. You never thought you’d see yourself begging for any of your clients, but tonight seemed to be a night where everything went off course.

Fat tear droplets ran down your cheeks as loud pleas left your throat, your voice becoming hoarse. The detective rolled his eyes, a spiel of boredom in his voice when he spoke. “Oh, come on. Do you really feel that good? For all I know, you may be trying to get more money from me like the whore you are.”

             You feverishly shake your head no. He wasn’t exactly wrong — nor right, actually. You’ve pretended to cum more times than you can even count; but he was the first customer you have ever been this needy for.

“P-Please, keep going, I’ll even make this session free — I just need to.. Please, Dazai,” you cry, the lump in your throat feeling worse the more you hic and sob. Dazai stares at you, speechless with a shit-eating grin. After a moment of silence, Dazai bursts out laughing at you. Feeling humiliated, you sighed and silently cried into the pillow once more. It wasn’t long before a hard thrust went into you, ripping a moan from your throat.

“Suck it up, won’t you? I never said I was stopping for good.”

@ HELUVAKU 2023 . do not share or repost .