#what the hell is going on in yokohama

[tinfoilhatsss]

What does Dazai have to do with the Book?

Dazai has had connections to the Book in the past, implying that he knows or previously knew where it was being held. What is the Book, and why is it so detrimental to the storyline? 

The Book is a highly sought out supernatural item which can alter reality. It consists of many blank pages, and once written on, acts on said words. This has the ability to change reality as it is (Shown in the beginning of the arc where the ADA are suddenly the terrorists that they had perviously sought out to apprehend). The book is regarded as greater than abilities. This could allude to a higher being in play, as the creator of the Book is unknown. Could it be a singularity? Yes, but again, it is mentioned by Ranpo that it is too powerful to be an ability. 

Dazai, as seen in Beast (An alternate universe created where Dazai took over the Port Mafia), is completely aware of the multiple universes created through the book. This ‘Dazai’ from beast creates this universe through the infinite possibilities available to him. 

My interpretation of this text excerpt is that original Dazai was in possession of the Book when he sought out an alternate universe where Oda lived. Original Dazai created Beast Dazai with his memories. Beast Dazai is a product of Dazai’s regrets and therefore behaves accordingly in connection to the original. They are essentially the same person through a completely different timeline. 

Though the wording of it is confusing- You can’t create an alternate world that you already live in unless you are from a different world originally. This could imply though that the world in Beast was identical to the original world until Beast Dazai stumbled upon the Book and diverged the course of the world from there, therefore splitting it. Feel free to correct me on any of this.

Either way, we know that it was most likely obtained from Yokohama (So it was at least there from the years that Dazai was 14 to current age). We also know that original Dazai has some sort of connection to the Book.  

As we see in the image above from chapter 28, Fitzgerald mentions that the Book cannot be affected by any abilities. Though the book is resistant to all abilities, Dazai’s is the exception. Atsushi’s ability is rumoured to have a connection to the book, as well. This leaves there to be two possible options:

1. Dazai’s ability has the capacity to nullify the book, and therefore other supernatural creations that may or may not be limited to abilities, OR he is directly connected to the Book and such is able to interact with it. This makes me wonder, does his power play a much larger role in the plot of BSD? 

2. The Book is actually not resistant to all abilities, and thus there are abilities that share a connection to the book. These abilities would be considered exceptions. Fyodor’s ability also shows resistance to laws that abilities supposedly follow, shown in Beast where his manifested ability not only refuses to attack him, but appears sentient. This theory results in the idea that abilities aren’t a singular type of power; There are fundamental differences between different skills. 

Both options involve Dazai. I think Beast could very well become an important aspect to the storyline of BSD due to the fact that it is proof of what the Book is capable of. Are there other alternate universes created by the Book? 

This information comes from the BSD wiki, the manga panels and the BEAST light novel. I don’t really post analysis stuff, but also it’s fun to research and collect my thoughts, so yeah! Someone discuss bsd theories with me pls im dying nobody wants to talk with me about it

[ssaraexposs]

"WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING IN SHIBUYA?!" (Kunikida's version)

[akkivee]

decided for my hypmic 7th anniversary post to list my fav song in each album, thinking it’d be easy enough, but i’m already stuck on the first mtr album what have i done to myself

[yingren]

isn’t that exactly what dan feng had always wanted — not just as himself, but as high elder, as the imbibitor lunae ? freedom. not the freedom to reject his role, but the freedom to exist as both — as high elder and as dan feng. as high elder and yubie or dan heng. to uphold his duty without sacrificing his individuality, to carry the weight of his title without surrendering a piece of himself just to fit the rigid, predetermined mold of what an imbibitor lunae should be. yingxing once swore to abolish all abominations, dedicating himself wholly to the only cause he believed he could serve — to support those strong enough to fight against the abundance. he swore to stand beside dan feng, not just for his sake but for all those who longed to carve out their own freedom. more than anything, he had wanted to shatter the laws etched in stone, to silence the endless recitations that kept dan feng bound inside a cage far too small for his ambition, repeated like an unrelenting hymn. if freedom was dan feng’s greatest pursuit — for himself, for his people — then in the end, who truly achieved it ? was it him ? or was it dan heng who finally stepped forward to claim the prize ?

anger that volatile can only be restrained for so long before it erupts in ugly, uncontrollable ways. and despite all his practiced decorum and polished elegance, dan feng is not immune to emotions more human than either of them will ever be. he has mastered the art of keeping his feelings veiled, every improper impulse buried beneath layers of restraint — but both ren and yingxing always had a way of digging deep enough to unravel him. the strike to ren’s face should enrage him, should humiliate him, but it doesn’t. maybe to an outsider, he looks pitiful — on his knees like some defiled, beaten dog, no stronger than a starved animal abandoned to the streets. maybe to an outsider, dan feng’s violence would seem cruel, the act of a tyrant lashing out in unchecked fury. ren wishes that were the case. but in truth, it’s justified. the lingering sting on his skin burns with the weight of something well-earned, and it’s almost disappointing that it does nothing except confirm what he already knew. so in that moment, where he feels as though he’s finally sinking his hooks into the truth he’s been chasing for so long, he doesn’t rush to rip it open. instead, he waits — patient, unwavering — as his lips curl into a grin far too self-satisfied for the situation at hand.

❝ how could you have not known and still made that decision ? ❞ every accusation is another pin pressed into the fragile paper-thin image dan feng has become in ren’s mind, fastening him to a backdrop stained with blood and the remnants of sin. a dark wall, painted with every mistake they ever made — every mistake made because of them — a monument of shame that neither of them is exempt from. yingxing once thought himself immune to suffering, believed that his sins would earn him nothing worse than death. that they could not shackle him, could not break him the way they drained the very essence of life from dan feng. but he had been wrong. so very wrong. that is why he stands here now, alongside dan feng, both of them perched atop the pedestal of infamy, their names carried through generations, spoken in hushed voices by the descendants of those who once lived by their side. whispers, gossip, twisted echoes of the past. yingxing and dan feng. the artisan and the high elder. sinner and sinner.

when told to take his words back, ren only stares. at first, it seems like disbelief, but it isn’t dan feng’s audacity that unsettles him — it’s the absence of it. the hesitation laced within the demand. take it back. there’s no authority in dan feng’s voice, no unshakable pride. at least not to ren. it sounds fractured, as if crushed between the weight of a stone wall and the dawning realization reflected in those ocean-deep eyes. eyes that, just moments ago, held mysteries too vast to decipher, now reduced to shallow pools exposing every unspoken thought swirling within his mind. ren should be triumphant. he is, in some way. so why does it feel so empty ?

❝ oh goodness me, our dearly beloved high elder allows me to hate him ! should i count myself lucky ? ❞ ren spits again, this time deliberately away from dan feng, a vile mix of blood and saliva staining the ground. he doesn’t let it distract him, though. instead, he tilts his head back to face the empty sky, and the laugh that bubbles up is as manic as it is desperate. all those years of bitterness, now reduced to this — an anticlimactic clash that does nothing to ease the old wounds. dan feng, untethered, and ren, shattered. they were truly made for each other. what other two abominations could hold so much hatred yet fit together so perfectly ?

❝ you’re wrong. ❞ when it comes to yingxing, ren could never make any decisions for him. the artisan had already decided for himself long before he became ren. his tired body collapses to the ground after stumbling a few inches forward, barely closing the gap between them. he rolls onto his back, exposing his face and his soul to the sky above. if he even has a soul anymore, it must be long detached from ren by now. his arms are spread out across the ground, chest rising painfully with every desperate gasp for air. yet, he never once looks away from dan feng — not even for a moment. he will cling to each second of this, even if it’s fractured from time and exists solely for them. he will claim it as his own and remember it forever.

❝ i made my own decision to hate you. but you were the one that made that decision for him. ❞ not even dan feng is protected from the truth, even if that candor is a double edged knife that buries itself deeper in ren’s core each time he wields it. ❝ to think that he once adored you, do you remember that ? all of that ... selfish love. imagine how much hatred you can wring out of that much love. if it were up to me, i would have spared yingxing from the martyr that you are. you never deserved his love, you do not deserve his hatred. ❞ a cough, and the smile on his face completely wilted. ❝ you never deserved him, let this hatred remind you of that for as long as your heart still beats. ❞

It then becomes time forfeited to that fallacy, in his relentless pursuit of retribution something cardinal to those two tethered souls had been irrevocably lost. dan heng had vehemently resisted, insisting that the two existed not as fragments of a whole but as contradictions of one another. dan feng could not be dan heng, it was irrational to shackle them to one another, a ludicrous excuse to justify centuries of anger. one mistake was all it took, one erroneous judgement, a sacrifice to resurrect what was lost. dan feng should have known it was unobtainable but implored by that oppressive grief what other recourse was there. divested of all decorum, reduced to the hollow chasm of despair he had reached for the only hand he could still place his trust in. in the end was it not hubris, casting his lofty gaze upon the fallen and being deluded into thinking for even a moment he had a right to interfere. the harrowing truth left behind, sabotaging the once pristine tapestry of the vidyadhara, was that dan feng had failed on multiple fronts, he was not omnipotent, nor was he infallible; he had failed. that failure had cost him everything, an exigent call for execution lingered upon the horizon and sorrow etched itself into the marrow of that once ethereal creature’s bones. The scent of petrichor had become unbearable, where once it had been redolent of vast, open skies and the soft lull of his comrade’s voices it was now analogous with his imprisonment. dan feng had sought him in that stifling darkness, his soul desperately searching amongst the suffocating stygian sea only to be greeted by silence. that was his punishment, left to rot within that merciless solitude until time came for the preceptors to efface his memories. what does ren know of love, no matter what form it has taken it is not impervious to such despair, mutilated until it was unrecognisable dan feng knows it intimately because, when it came time to bare his throat before his apathetic god, it was all that remained by his side. resentment was effortless, it flows through his veins like the ceaseless churning of a current, exhuming yingxing now, after mourning him for so long, would be nothing short of inhumane.

❝ how could I have known.❞ these two inexorable forces are discordant to their other halves, the shadow of the artisan immured behind ren’s cold, crimson gaze and dan heng’s disconcerted expression lurking beneath a veneer of glacial austerity. his retaliation is barbed but it does not embed itself into the pallid skin of his adversary, it burrows deep between his own fragile ribs and languidly begins carving him open. for how little did his restraint matter, what significance was there in his dignity, when the alluring mouth of a long-dead corpse can still stir a maelstrom within the tempestuous waters of his heart. ❝ what difference would it have made, letting him go or returning to his side none of that was a choice.❞ if only dan feng had acquiesced to the limitations of his own fate, a venerable weapon to be exploited by the preceptors, maybe then no one else would have been hurt by his negligence, his heart had become the very disease that sentenced those closest to him to an early demise. the words ren intends to wound him with are those he has incised into his own skin long ago, still, despite that, the dull, incessant thrum of loss aches all the same. for the fragments of what had once been an unfaltering devotion, an eternity sworn to the disgraced soul before him now, were slick with blood as his inept hands tried and failed to seize them. schooling his features to remain indifferent, an inhospitable landscape of frost, was not a sustainable defense. not when ren showed no reluctance in his fusillades, whether his weapons were efficacious or not was insignificant but dan feng was not impervious, even if those who engrained those lessons into him would have preferred him to be. 

 ❝ my memories do not change his decision, renouncing the high elder’s path, whether he is me or not is not something for you to decide.❞ the myriad of emotions that arise from that revelation are not all awash in contempt, no, there, beneath those roiling ocean tides, resides relief, sorrow, emotions nurtured by this solitary creature, guarded with the ferocity ren had come to fear. breaking that cycle, defying the life intended to incarcerate him, dan heng had accomplished something no other had before him, freedom. anger supersedes all else because it is the only language they’re both fluent in, action taking precedence over words because incendiary arguments were nothing short of futile. if they had spoken would things have transpired differently, would their fates have been anything other than this. ren’s grip relents, suspended now by dan feng’s which refuses to falter, his eyes, however, those caverns of burning vermillion, remain defiant. that elegant hand pulls back abruptly, there is no true portent of that strike, just the resonating sound of it that fills the high elder’s chest, rising and falling unevenly, his pupils withered to pinpricks and his emotions far too apparent. as the hunter reels from the expeditious blow he jerks him back, refuses to allow him to retreat even an inch, even as those words peel back the desiccated husk of his skin, wedging themselves beneath his keening nerves. ❝ …take it back.❞ his voice has pitched low in warning, dan feng, overwhelmed by the barrage of emotions, does not recognize that his eyes are red-rimmed, that he even had the capacity to shed tears any longer. It’s so very petulant, if those arrogant preceptors could witness him now, debased to quivering shoulders and his fury, because what else was there, would they not have averted their gaze in shame. ❝ you are allowed to loathe me, don’t make assumptions about his feelings.❞ that air of reticence fractures, piece by piece, as if it had been gossamer thin this entire time. ❝ If i am not dan heng as you so claim then you… you cannot decide that for him.❞ of course he knows, why else would ire radiate through him so, if he could be ignorant to the fact that he too had fallen from grace, reduced to something so unsightly, then perhaps he would have become hollow as well.

[kotton-kandy953]

━ 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴𝙳

➛ various!yandere!male oneshots x fem!reader

title page┆word count: 2.3k┆warnings: dazai behavior, death, forced touches (kinda), manipulation, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, suicide, yandere themes┆a/n: the plot for this one-shot was actually the plot I had for a hanako-kun x reader fic that I never got to finish. (btw “bella” means “beautiful” and “belladonna” means “beautiful lady.” It is also the name of a flower) kinda rushed ending I think

𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀

yandere!osamu d. x fem!reader

⤷ ❝ 𝕺𝕳,

my elegant flower…” Dazai breathily muttered into your ear, his right hand traveling down your body to secure itself onto your waist. The other lightly sliding down your arm until it met with yours, your hands mending together almost perfectly.

He began taking slow, steady steps with you in his firm, yet ever so delicate, arms. You hated the way he made you feel; and the heat rising to your cheeks didn’t make it any better.

The way his hands held onto you like nothing else in the world mattered made you sick. Like he was so deeply in love with you, that he never, ever wanted to let you go.

And this this hell felt like heaven for him.

So much like heaven, that he’s made you forget how and why you’re even in this concerning situation.

You and Dazai danced together as if you both were lovers, destined to always find each other in whatever universe God puts you in.

But it was quite the opposite.

Take where you are for example, atop the roof of an abandoned 5 story building at the dead of night.

Why are you even here, you ask? Well let’s go back to the beginning.

You and Dazai are coworkers at the Armed Detective Agency (ADA), and have been for the past few years. And because of that, you’re practically around the man 24/7.

But what’s so wrong with Dazai? Well, not only is he extremely irritating and obsessed with suicide, but it’s so painfully obvious that he’s obsessed with you as well!!

He’s overwhelmingly clingy and flirtatious, not to mention his constant attempts at suicide and begging for you to join him in a double suicide drive you mad. He can also be a tad bit controlling and manipulative when it comes to spending time with others.

“Oh, bella…” Dazai sang as he kneeled in front of you while you sat in your desk chair, his hands keeping a firm grip on yours. “…I can just imagine how beautiful your hands would look around my neck, finally granting me the sweet gift of death I crave so muc—“

“-Quit flirting with L/n, Dazai! Get back to work!!” Kunikida shouted at the suicidal brunet before dragging him away from you by his shirt collar.

You sighed at the scene before you, quickly turning back towards your desk and returning to your job. But your peace and quiet didn’t last very long until you were assigned the job to check out an old, abandoned, warehouse that is suspected to be the hideout for an unknown organization kidnapping certain people around the area of Yokohama.

Of course, you agree to the job and the partner assigned to you… but you declined the last part. You insisted that you did not need anyone’s assistance in this job, mainly because you didn’t want a certain bandage-waster recommending himself as the perfect candidate for the position.

You left the ADA building, ready to save the captives and go home and sleep. But someone had ulterior motives…

Once arriving at the warehouse, you pulled out your gun and hid in a blind spot from anyone inside the abandoned building.

Your eyes scanned the perimeter and the entrance it’s self and… “Is no one in there?” You quietly muttered to yourself; there was absolutely no sign of life anywhere.

What the fuck? You thought.

You were about to walk over there before you were stopped by your gun being snatched right out of your grasp.

“I doubt you’ll be needing that, bella.”

Gasping in shock, you spun around on your heel, meeting eyes with… him. “Wha… what are you doing here, Dazai!?”

“Call me Osamu,” he added rather quickly, “and what’s so wrong with a fellow member of the agency taking the time out of their evening to assist their dear colleague?”

You angrily glared at him but he seemed to not care. It’s almost like he loves getting a reaction out of people, especially you.

“I thought I told you I liked working alone…“ what made you trail off of your sentence short was Dazai reaching for your hand and gently holding it in his.

He didn’t dare to break eye contact as he kissed your knuckles. You grimaced at the feeling, cursing yourself for not snatching your hand away and shoving him away from you.

“I could be trying out a new method of suicide right now, but I decided to spend my time with you.” He added with a small pout.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Wow, how selfless…! Now leave, I’m trying to do my job here!! Now give me my gun back!!!”

You jumped to reach the black weapon but he held it over your head, “Ah, ah, ah! I told you that you won’t need this, haven’t I, my dear belladonna?”

You tightly pressed your lips together, already knowing that Dazai won’t give in that easily. Shit, he probably won’t even give in at all!

“You know, I might reconsider that offer of strangling you to death right about now…” you muttered under your breath.

“Oh really?” He leaned over towards you a bit, you didn’t exactly expect him to hear you. “Sorry, but I prefer my deaths to be painless and knowing you, that probably won’t happen.”

Sighing, you reached out your open hand in front of him, “My gun.”

“Well that’s not a complete sentence now is it, Belladonna?” Laughing softly to himself Dazai, sat up straight. “I’m getting sick of this back and forth banter, let’s just go inside the place already.”

Dazai threw his hands back, the gun flying back even further. You watched in horror as it disappeared into the overgrown vegetation.

“You fucking—“

The bandaged brunet grabbed onto your wrist and forced you into the warehouse.

The second you both ran through the door, you pried your wrist off of his hand, “What the hell’s wrong with you, Osamu!? There could’ve been a bunch of armed men in here trying to kill us!!”

“But there wasn’t.” He stated bluntly, not even wanting to touch on the fact that you have just referred to him as “Osamu.”

Seething, you tore your gaze away from him and looked around the empty space around you. No one’s here either.

“You’re right. There… isn’t…” You looked around for a good 5 seconds before a loud gasp echoed through the room.

“What? You… you lied about the- the everything didn’t you!? The kidnappers and—”

“-I didn’t lie, okay.” He raises his hands up In defense. “All I did was tell you the wrong address, the kidnappers are somewhere on the other side of Yokohama but who cares!!” He laughed uncaringly at the situation.

“You cannot be fucking for real right now…” you rubbed your temple at the mere thought of this. It was absolutely unbelievable.

You and everyone at the ADA might know this already, but it’s becoming more and more evident as the days go by: Dazai is fucking insane.

“Come on, Y/n!! Don’t tell me you’re scared of heights!!” You must’ve zoned out for a moment because now Dazai is climbing the stairs up to the next floor as he urges you on to follow him.

Already mentally drained, you wanted to turn around and go home, but something about this intrigued you so you went along with it.

That was your first mistake.

This went on for another twenty or so minutes until you both have reached the roof. Quite frankly, you were tired and out of breath. Panting as if you had just ran a fucking marathon.

“You made it!” He claps his hands together, “Barely…” he adds on under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.

“Why… did you bring me here…?” You said as you finally got a hold of your breath, noticing that it is already dark outside. The only light source being the bright, half-moon in the sky.

“Bring you here…?” Dazai slowly stepped closer to you, chuckling darkly to himself, “What do you mean? You followed me all by yourself. You could’ve turned around and went home whenever you wanted.” As if he’d even let you do that in the first place.

“Uh- well…” you stuttered, “Whatever.” Crossing your arms you, turned away from him.

The bandaged brunet stepped closer to you, “C’mon, bella…“ He whined, shoving his hands into his pockets; a strange smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“What’s the matter? Are you mad because I lied to you?” He teased you in a mock baby voice, desperately trying to get a reaction out of you.

You turned around, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but his brown eyes looking right through your soul silenced you. There was a look on his face that you couldn’t make out. Was he frustrated? Maybe amused?

Whatever it was, you didn’t want any parts of it.

“I don’t even know why I followed you up here. I’m leaving.” You swiftly turned around again, and began walking away. But a firm grip on your forearm stopped you right in your tracks.

“Hey, what are you-“

He didn’t respond. He only yanked you into his arms. His, that you won’t admit, warm and loving arms. His arm was tightly around your waist while the other gently rested on top of your head.

“Dazai,” you paused, horribly frustrated with yourself for finding somewhat enjoying his embrace, “what are you doing?”

“Y/n, you know how I just love the idea of committing a double suicide with the beautiful lady I fall in love with?” He whispered to you, his arms securely around your waist.

“Uhm, yeah? I guess? What does any of this have to do with…?”

“I have another question,” he continued, “You do know I’m in love with you, right?”

“You what!?—“

Suddenly, Dazai released you from his embrace, you would’ve lost balance if he didn’t secure his grip on your waist.

“Oh, my elegant flower…!” he breathily whispered into your ear as his hand firmly grasped onto yours. You looked into his brown eyes that sparkled like stars in the beautiful moonlight. You hated the way he looked at you. You just hated absolutely everything about him. Why did he of all people have to fall in love with you?

At this point, you have no idea what the fuck is going on. Feeling weird by not doing anything with your free hand, you awkwardly placed your free hand on his shoulder.

You’ve never slow danced with a man before, but this what they do on movies, right? This is good enough.

He began taking slow, steady steps with you in his firm yet ever so delicate arms. You couldn't help but divert your gaze away from him whilst your face flushed a soft red color. Why am I blushing like crazy right now? Why won’t it stop!?

“Did you not hear me?” He continued the previous conversation, momentarily stopping his movements, “I said that I’m in love with you.”

“You’re… in… in love?” You felt so stupid at this moment. Has it not been obvious since the beginning? He constantly compliments you on a daily. He’s even expressed his interest in committing a double suicide with his lover, and you just happen to be the person he bothers with the question the most. I’d have to be stupid to never realize it, shit.

“No, that’s not true…” his grip around your waist now becoming hellishly tight. A gasp escaped your lips but it was quickly overrun by his words, “I’m obsessed with you. Why else would I lie about your current mission? I just needed this alone time with you. There’s something really important I needed to tell you.”

“I- are you crazy!?” You shrieked, your last pieces of sympathy for him instantly shattering into oblivion.

“Only crazy for you, my beautiful flower.”

“Dazai, are you seriou-“

Before you could get a word out, Dazai pressed his soft lips against yours. The kiss was only a few seconds, but for you, it felt like an eternity.

Once he finally pulled away, you caught your breath. In a melodramatic manner, nonetheless.

An amused smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he stared straight into your eyes, “I doubt it was that bad, Y/n.” He chuckled softly.

“You can’t hate me that much, my dear bella.”

You didn’t respond to him, only diverting your gaze away from him. “I do, I really do…”

He laughed quietly before beginning to take a few steps with you. You became more and more embarrassed each time you slipped up and stepped on his feet but still not feeling obligated to mutter a quiet apology.

But then, there was a sudden stop. You could feel Dazai’s heart pounding faster than usual. He redirected his gaze and bit his lip nervously before looking straight at you.

He placed a soft kiss against your forehead, and muttered a quiet declaration of love before hugging you tightly. Embracing you with all of his might.

And leaning forward. At first, you thought that he was passed out or something and that you both were stumbling to the ground, but that wasn’t the case. It was quite the opposite, as a matter of fact.

Now it all makes sense. Why he stopped dancing; Because you were on the edge of the roof, perhaps?

Why he grabbed onto you; So you wouldn’t fight against him, maybe?

His decoration of love… he was going to kill himself.

And bring you along with him.

Tears ran down your face as sobs ripped through your throat. You couldn’t believe it, despite how surprising that sounds. It just feels like some kind of act of betrayal to you, even if he is dying as well.

The moment before you and Osamu hit the rock-hard pavement, he let go of you and muttered a phrase you may never forget, even in the afterlife:

“Thank you.”

back to title page ┆cingulomania (noun): ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛʀ��ɴɢ ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴀʀᴍꜱ

[bluedelliquanti]

Before I go on vacation, I present my list of my top books for 2024.

COMICS:

Roaming by Jillian Tamaki & Mariko Tamaki

Bunt! by Ngozi Ukazu & Mad Rupert

Ukazu and Rupert are a powerhouse team, and as an art school adjunct, this already funny GN is even funnier (albeit in a way that necessitates a skull emoji in the educator groupchat)

Tiffany’s Griffon by Magnolia Porter Siddell & Maddi Gonzalez

Phobos and Deimos by J Dalton

Delicious in Dungeon by Ryoko Kui

It's a tough task to reach a satisfying conclusion to a series that was as strong as Dungeon, but I think Kui accomplished it!

Fool Night by Kasumi Yasuda

King in Limbo by Ai Tanaka

Over the last year I've been drawn towards comic series that work with a retro, fixed-width inking style, and King especially informed some recent experiments of mine.

PROSE:

Twins by Bari Wood & Jack Geasland

When I learned Wood was responsible for the book that became Dead Ringers, I knew I had to try it. This is the one that wins my "Oh, shit! Wow!! Okay!!!" award for the year (distinctions previously awarded to Cyteen and Manhunt).

The Bezzle by Cory Doctorow

DS9: A Stitch in Time by Andrew J. Robinson

Those of you who read my journal comic from last August might recall that I met Robinson at a Trek convention! I'd learned from reading these books that Stitch was considered a white whale among collectors, and now I absolutely understand why. If you're a DS9 fan and you want to try any book from the original run of novels, try this one. By which I mean, try the far easier-to-find audiobook version.

Translation State by Ann Leckie

A Woman of the Iron People by Eleanor Arnason

Fellow SBCF participant Erin Roseberry had shared this title as an inspiration for their comic, The Maker of Grave-Goods, and I was especially interested in trying a book by a Twin Cities author. What a serendipitous find!

Arboreality by Rebecca Campbell

For the third year in a row, a book nominated for the Le Guin Prize makes the list.

Always Coming Home by Ursula K. Le Guin

This is another book I always told myself I'd try someday, and was it ever worth it! I spent some time talking about my experience with this story (and its accompanying materials that fill out the world) in my talk with Evan Dahm on his show.

See you in the new year! I've packed some thick books for a long flight, so I'm starting my 2025 reading pile right away!

Reruns of my previous two lists, 2023, and 2022, below the cut.

2023

COMICS:

Yokohama Kaidashi Kikou by Hitoshi Ashinano

Out of Style by Devi Putri Megwati

Skip and Loafer by Misaki Takamatsu

The Harrowing of Hell by Evan Dahm

The Infinity Particle by Wendy Xu

Esteban by Matthieu Bonhomme

I covered my ShortBox reccs back in October, but since then I also picked up Pearl Hunting by Hana Chatani when it came to itch.io and adored it.

PROSE: 

So yes, maybe I'm cheating by including Moby Dick since I'm not all the way finished, but Whale Weekly really did end up being a great tool for getting me to crack open my gorgeous Evan Dahm-illustrated copy I've had for a while.

My favorite book of the year is Roadside Picnic by Arkady & Boris Strugatsky. I genuinely did read it the first week of January, but after having it recommended to me for years, I'm thrilled it didn't disappoint. Maybe I am someone who likes Russian novels after all???

Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto

Such Nice People by Sandra Scoppettone

Cyteen by C.J. Cherryh (I jokingly placed these three in the "READ 👏 FEMALE 👏 AUTHORS 👏" category because they don't have anything in common other than describing some of the most upsetting/bizarre scenarios I've read this year. Cyteen especially! Wowee!!!)

Brother Alive by Zain Khalid

Glory by Vladimir Nabokov

A Different Trek by David K. Seitz, which I mentioned as my vacation book for the Star Trek convention, but it's given me some great suggestions for more books, both fiction and otherwise. Also, I read... 11 more DS9 books this year. 

2022

COMICS:

Fullmetal Alchemist by Hiromu Arakawa

Vattu by Evan Dahm

The Well by Choo and Jake Wyatt

Wash Day Diaries by Robyn Smith and Jamila Rowser

Some ShortBox Comics Fair entries that are graphic novella length and are really good include Food School by Jade Armstrong and The God of Arepo by Reimena Yee et al.

PROSE:

Detransition, Baby by Torrey Peters

The Murders of Molly Southbourne by Tade Thompson

How to Blow Up a Pipeline by Andreas Malm

Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin

Dead Collections by Isaac Fellman

Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov

A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers

The Past is Red by Catherynne M. Valente

edit: oh my god I can't believe I forgot Perfume by Patrick Süskind

Honorable mentions from the pile of DS9 novelizations include Revenant by Alex White (for successfully pulling off a Sara Paretsky-style mystery in space) and Dominion War: Call to Arms by Diane Carey (for absolutely unhinged adjective choices).

[osamucide]

⊹ LOOKIN’ FOR THE ONE THAT WANTS TO MAKE MY NAME A TATTY!

cw: multifandom (bsd+jjk), suggestive, name tattoos!!! all around questionable? feral and whipped and lovesick and possessive and stupid stupid hot men

reid: down bad for this concept and these mfers anyways stream aggy by coco and clair clair

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Who would get your name tattooed on them?

This SCREAMS GOJO. He’s so shameless—he’d get your name tattooed on his asscheek if you asked. He’d let you do it. He’d let it be Comic Sans for the meme. Not because he doesn’t take you seriously—quite the opposite, actually! His six eyes know he won’t ever regret this—he loves you so much and there’s hardly anything in the world he wouldn’t do to put a smile on your face even if it’s dumb. But really, tell him to be for real—suggest along his bicep in a pretty script font and consider it done <3

SUKUNA’S probably going to do this under one condition—he gets to mark you as his too, and this does not necessarily mean you also get a tattoo. But let’s say you do! I think he wants yours between your tits on your sternum running vertical, and he’ll probably get his in the exact same place—exact same font, exact same color. . .there, or down his spine, or if he’s feeling especially soft the day of the appointment, across his Achilles tendon, for obvious reasons—don’t make him say it.

If this screams anyone else on this list, it’s TOJI. He won’t even hesitate; he’s not exactly the most responsible guy around, but you like him, and he thinks you’re perfect—why the hell shouldn’t he have your name wrapped around his upper arm like a cuff, especially if it means your eyes light up and you flash him that gorgeous smile? Just don’t be too surprised when you find his baby mother’s name haphazardly covered up/half removed somewhere else on him.

I can see NANAMI doing this a few years into marriage, maybe, but doing it nonetheless. Look at him—he’s the dictionary definition of a keeper, and this is hardly any different to him than never taking off his wedding ring (and believe me, once you’ve got him on lock I mean he never takes it off). Matching ones would be especially alluring to him—you’re his one and only, and he hardly gives a thin and subtle sans-serif tattoo of your name on his upper thigh a second thought. What’s more is he’s enamored with kissing the spot where you get his name <3

This may or may not be me pushing my tattooed CHUUYA agenda but whatever. I think he’d be SO down for this. He’d probably make a little date out of it—drive you to the nicest tattoo shop in Yokohama under the guise of wanting to pay for whatever piece you want on yourself—tattoo or piercing—and sit patiently while you get it done, and then ‘decide last-minute’ that he’ll get one too, what the hell, and tell you not to look until it’s finished. Some elegant, masculine script font behind his ear that’s visible when he pulls his hair back <3

TACHIHARA is so grounded in what he loves. I’m 100% willing to bet he has a tattoo for his brother. Your name, too, tattooed on the outside of his shoulder, is like a badge of honor to him—everything he does, he does with you in mind. His only regret is how every uniform he wears covers it; he truly would’ve gotten it on his neck just above his shirt collar or on the back of his hand if it wouldn’t make him so easily identifiable. I can see him liking a traditional calligraphy font—only the prettiest for the love of his life <3

Funny how the man who knows nothing he desires can be permanent gets your name tatted on him. I think the prospect of having your name in his skin forever is just so hot, so romantic to DAZAI—there’s poetry in it however your relationship ends up unfolding. He knows he’s in love with you. In some way or another, no matter how he might end up driving you away, regardless of if you end up hating him for the monster he really is, even if you end up dying hand in hand like he hopes for, you’ll always own a piece of his heart and it’s evident in the pretty serif font he got buzzed across his hipbone <3

I include NIKOLAI in every one of my unhinged headcanons but I just can’t see him being anything less than ENTHUSIASTIC TO BOOT in a relationship. He is all in! You put up with his crazy, you drive away his sadness, you hold him so sweetly—the way you love him truly makes him feel on top of the world. And in true Nikolai fashion, I think he has your name in a font of your choice tatted right over his heart. Kiss it, bite it, trace it, lick it—he loves letting you know he’s all yours <3

[chuunai]

I had an idea for the 100 followers thingy- so like the babies thing but you’re a single mother (maybe teen mom?) and dazai (pm) falls in love with you and your baby :} ps- I LOVE YOU TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF SUGAR 💗‼️‼️‼️

I’m trying I swear TvT

✧˚ · . you’re a virgin and I’m just a meth head - pm! dazai osamu

the new hire at the port mafia interests him. the baby, too.

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff with a sprinkle of angst, mentions of teen pregnancy, reader and PM! dazai are seventeen, SFW, mentions of a former abusive relationship, mentions of suicide (it’s fucking dazai), happy ending.

Assistants were something he never cared for much.

They came and go, either requesting to work for a different department in the Port Mafia after witnessing his peculiarities or dying. He hadn’t ever formed any bonds with them. Hell, he hardly knew their names. Dazai preferred to give them childish nicknames such as ‘four-eyes’ for the ones with glasses or ‘baldy’ for the ones who had barely began balding.

No use in actually getting to know them.

All they were good for anyway was organizing his work and making a schedule of meetings and pointless missions he’d hardly follow. And what could they do? Nothing.

Once, he had attempted to get Ango to apply for the job during an outing at Bar Lupin, but that four-eyes declined. So did Oda. Geez, his friends lacked faith in him. Dazai wasn’t that bad of a boss. His subordinates didn’t die that often compared to the others.

Then again, his most recent assistant had died via overdosing. Straight from the Port Mafia’s warehouses, too. Dying of his own stupidity because karma struck him down. The high may have been sending him to the clouds, but he got too close to the sun just as Icarus did and burned—or in this case, vomited—to death. Fun.

A replacement would be needed, yes, but that would involve looking through so many applications and that was boring compared to strangling himself or pulling Chuuya’s hair when the redhead was speaking with Kouyou.

He’d pick irritating the slug over paperwork any day. At least one was fun.

So he just had Mori pick one out. As long as they wouldn’t be a nuisance and knew their place, he didn’t care who it was. Boy, girl, whatever. All ages welcomed. Dazai preferred younger though. The old farts were annoying and so utterly dumb! So when a subordinate gave him a file for his new assistant, he didn’t think anything of it. He always got those for record keeping.

Although this particular individual piqued his interest as his eyes gazed over the information attached.

The age was young—seventeen, same as him. A girl. According to the report, you were previously stationed as a secretary for some lower ranking member. And you’d just joined, too. Only a few blissful months ago. Just barely a baby in the crime world. All dewy-eyed and truly unknowing of the dark underbelly of Yokohama.

Most interesting, though, and the thing that struck his curiosity was the fact that a small sticky note was attached to the last page.

‘Single mother of eight month old girl’

There weren’t many parents in the Mafia, much less teenage ones. Nobody had time to have a baby with the lack of safety. But you did. Someone desperate enough to provide for their child to the point where they joined an illegal organization without even being an adult yet. That took will and selflessness. Something he lacked.

And without having even met you yet, Dazai found himself fascinated by you.

Murmuring your name to himself, he found himself a bit startled at how smooth it rolled off his tongue. He liked it, too. Your name was nice to say.

Tossing the file onto his desk carelessly, Dazai tapped his fingers on the desk, mind wandering once more. If you had a child then you’d probably work your best to support them. You’d be competent enough for him.

Apparently competent enough to the point where you felt like you could handle bringing the baby to the Mafia HQ.

“I don’t remember hiring two assistants.”

Dazai’s voice came out as slightly amused and startled. There you were, standing in-front of his desk while occasionally shushing your…daughter? It looked like a girl, anyway.

“Sorry- her sitter wasn’t available and I-“

His eyes stared at your reddening cheeks—embarrassment and shame, he could tell—as you spoke again.

“I don’t really have anyone to watch her. I’m so sorry, sir.”

Sir? You called him sir? That made him wave his hand a bit dismissively. The only people who called him ‘sir’ were the random grunts and gunmen that served under him. Or people who were scared shitless of him.

“Dazai. Not sir.”

Sitting up languidly, his uncovered eye focused on the baby. Curls of dark hair fell over her forehead while her tiny hands grabbed at your shirt and hair. Funny, he thought.

“And the baby can stay.”

She reminded him of some of the orphans Oda took care of. Especially Sakura. Maybe they had the same name, too. Unlikely, though. She didn’t look like a Sakura, really.

Picking up a pen, he pointed it at you, a small smile on her face.

“Speaking of, may I know her mother’s name?”

He knew it already. But it felt more right if he convinced himself you told him.

“Oh! Yes, uhm, I’m (L/N) (Y/N). And her name,” Tapping your baby’s forehead, she released a small coo, giggling slightly. “is (L/N) Yukirou.”

“Winter baby, huh. I’ll guess, December 16th?”

This was so much fun for him so far. Maybe Yukirou really could be his second assistant. As a joke, of course.

Nodding, you began to ramble on about the baby as he relaxed back in his chair, spinning around and making funny faces at Yukirou. The small child giggled and outreached her fingers to him, probably infatuated by his bandages and messy hair. He didn’t touch her, though. No need to let such a good small thing interact with a person like him.

And so minutes went by. Technically, he should’ve been doling out tasks and trying to kill himself again—he had heard of a technique where one could inject apple juice into their neck and die, but he wasn’t sure it’d work—but it slipped out of his grasp. Maybe it was the fact you two were so close in age. The fact that in another universe you could’ve been classmates fueled this moment. Dazai didn’t really know people his age other than Chuuya, but Chuuya was Chuuya. You were new.

New to everything in this line of business. The killing, the release of morals. Then again, you were just an assistant. You’d never directly be involved with that. Just helping him out with whatever was needed.

Dazai thought that was a smart choice, whether or not you intended for it to be. As an assistant, you’d be safe from the gunfire and outermost threats. More likely to live and protect your daughter.

So caring in a line of work where lives were dispensable.

He wondered how you got there. Not to the Port Mafia—the file told him. But how you took on such a frowned upon job to solely provide for your child. Was the father a deadbeat? Or actually dead? His father was the same. Dead five years into Dazai’s life.

His mother tried her best, but she died too and he slipped onto Mori’s grasp. Hopefully your baby wouldn’t end up in the same situation.

The peaceful moment was interrupted by one of his men who dropped off a load of documents, side-eyeing you before leaving.

Dazai wished you hadn’t turned the conversation back to work.

“Sir, sorry- Dazai-san, would you like me to organize the papers..?”

Why did he forget that you were just an assistant of his? The medication must be making his mind woozy again.

“By date and incident, yep. Also, if you see any that mentioned a Chuuya, please throw them out. Or burn them. Preferably the burning part.”

His office was always to be kept rid of that ginger.

“On it.”

And so he doodled a noose on the wood of his desk while you slowly put the papers away. It soon became clear to him that Yukirou was making the job a tad difficult by trying to grab at the papers.

A slight idea of letting her crawl loose in Mori’s office and destroying it entered his mind, but it quickly left.

“Y’know, if she’s being a devil, I can play with her for a bit. I swear I’ll be good!”

The words left him before he could really process them. Next thing he knew he was wearing the baby carrier with tiny fingers pulling at his shirt. Instructions poured from your lips as he nodded and patted the baby’s back.

“I’ll kill you if anything goes wrong.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the sound of that. You? Kill him? Never going to happen. Unless it were a double suicide, but you probably wouldn’t say yes.

And he replied when the slight fear in your eyes registered after remembering that he was your boss in the Mafia.

“If course, cutie. I give you permission to kill me if theoretically anything goes wrong.”

Dazai made sure to sneak a peek at your reddening cheeks before leaving his office with the baby strapped to his chest and tugging at his bandages like a little snake.

That’s how it all started. A boy and a girl who happened to have a baby.

He’d never regret how months went by as you two became closer and closer. Joking around, complaining about work, all the stuff friends did. Hell, Dazai even watched Yukirou sometimes.

Thank god Chuuya wasn’t there to see him watching children’s cartoons on your couch with a baby in his lap and a stuffed animal in the other.

Or how he insisted on covering some of your rent when you were struggling. Yukirou needs a home, after all. He sees himself in her a bit. And he didn’t want her to turn out like him. If he couldn’t change his own life for the better, he’d change hers.

And yours.

Much better than that dickhead that fathered Yukirou. You told Dazai about it one night when he stayed over after babysitting once more. Yukirou was napping in her nursery, and you two were sitting on the couch just talking.

Talking turned into sharing details of your lives, and he came up. Your old flame who ditched you. Breaking a promise that he’d be there for the baby and you. Dazai was silent all throughout it. Quiet when you spoke of the emotional abuse and stress that you had, quiet when you began crying over the fact you never got to graduate high school.

He was just there, daring to awkwardly rub your back as you vented. He wondered if you had talked about it before. Probably not.

Dazai felt like he too needed to share a story of his childhood too in exchange for yours. So he told you about the poor neighborhood he grew up in and the horrors he saw daily.

Did it lessen the impact of your venting? Most likely, but in his opinion, he was trying to show you that he trusted you now too. He assumed it worked when you fell asleep on his shoulder. He took care of Yukirou when she woke crying an hour later. He would’ve been a much better father than that bastard.

It didn’t help either that Yukirou began to see him as her daddy. He was there when she turned a year old, gifting her all sorts of things. Scolding her when she nibbled on his hands. Doing nearly everything a dad would.

Even when she managed to say ‘mama’ and ‘dada’ for the first time, it was when all three of you were in the room together. In her tiny mind, it was her family. Her mama and Dazai—her papa. Oda congratulated him for becoming a father when you came along one day with him to Bar Lupin.

It didn’t live up to Chuuya’s reaction when he first heard one of his guys call Dazai a doting father. The shortstack had gone up to him asking if he really was Yukirou’s dad—rumors went around at HQ quickly—and Dazai had to sadly reply that he wasn’t. Sometimes he wished he was. Months of time with you led to nights in bed where he dreamed of a universe that he was really the dad. That Yukirou had his brown eyes instead of her dad’s blue ones.

It wasn’t fair.

Nor were his growing feelings.

Dazai was smart. A genius thinker and planner. So of course he noticed how his heart began to rapidly beat around you. The sweating of his usually cold hands.

He’d had crushes in the past, sure. But it didn’t equate to this. Such a strong connection only made it worse. Was it wrong his Google history lately was filled with questions about confessing to and dating a single mom?

Did you even like him back?

That question couldn’t be answered by anyone but you. It scared him. You probably didn’t. Not as more than a brother, anyway. His suicidal ideation and tendencies scared off any woman who wanted more than sex. But he probably wouldn’t be living long anyway. So he’d have to shoot his shot eventually.

Which he did after another five months of consideration and thought. Dazai committed this act by simply asking you to sort out some notes for him. A total of eight. Each one had a single word on it. If you correctly put them together, it spelled:

‘I like you. Do you like me back?’

Much to his relief and shock, you did. You did, and he had hugged you so tightly. Tightening their bond, too.

So he became your boyfriend. And he wore the title of ‘dad’ to Yukirou gladly. The little girl saw him as her papa, and he couldn’t deny it. Even if it wasn’t biologically, she was his. And yours.

Dazai’s life used to be mundane and slow, yet with his new…family, he felt genuine happiness for once. A reason to live.

That was the greatest gift he could receive of all.

Regular Tags: @twst-om-lover, @xxcandlelightxx, @sinfulthoughtsposts.

Tags for everyone who interacted with this post (it’s over 100): @walking-simp, @hypocritic-trash-baby, @heartsfourdazai, @cheriiyaya, @depressed-monarch, @nyxt0t, @baby-tini, @h0nk3rs, @internet-angell, @cupidszvlvr, @owosamu, @my-dear-melancholy, @dazaibae, @nekomafumafufan18-blog, @cvsmois, @lizsano, @nanamiinto, @inojuuy, @reomarys, @mayanakahara, @briiscoolig, @maislovebot, @syona-sachyo, @xieqq2, @angelof-darkness, @moriiko, @fuckthisfuckingshit, @daushu, @wrynue, @amnda-ft-fyodor, @rain-alucard, @hanayoshiii, @moemoekunn, @thatwasa, @miiiloo, @probablyzombiedinosaurs, @mauviese, @chips-and-vinegar, @https-dazai, @rragudoru, @leyla3x0, @cheetozai, @jillyfsh, @rylerboi, @linaaeatsfamilies, @zorizoras, @onlinewhisper14, @komicoral, @anim3-simps, @theoddsinner, @caayye, @scaramow, @such-a-silly-little-gy, @bunnybs-stuff, @psychiclovecollective, @sleepy-yumi516, @fromjas, @suzurans-world, @mrstengenuzui, @mitislm, @tealover111, @edgarallanpoeswifey, @baby-tini, @yaz4luvv, @deliciouscandysalad, @isrealityevenreal, @briefcreationcandy, @astr3eaa, @underscoredaniii, @nolongerhooman, @notalooo, @ratinawetsocksweater, @tomiroro,

Rest in comments I’m crying now also if your tag is white it’s because you didn’t pop up when I was doing the @‘s

[maidensveil]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷LOVESTRUCKੈ✩‧₊˚

sypnosis; the bsd men are just so inlove w/ u! but what are their habits that they gained and/or stopped when they began dating you??

pairings; dazai, kunikida, chuuya, fyodor, ango/reader

warnings; mentions of suicide in dazai’s part(it’s literally Dazai =/)

oh.. this menace.. (but everyone loves him so yuh). Being with DAZAI has a lot of ups and downs, especially since he’s trying to get you to commit suicide with him. But ever since you two started dating, he started spending less time trying to die and not doing anything productive, and always coming up with excuses just to be in your presence. Especially if you’re tired from working too much. He knows it’s bad to get close with someone because all the people he card about in his life either disappeared or just left him. That’s what KINDA makes his clingy personality. (Keyword: kinda, his other clingyness is just there bc he is generally clingy for no reason at all.) this man’s love u so much he will do anything you ask! You tell him to do his paperwork?? he’s immediately sitting down on his chair working like a normal person. (Kinda, bc if u say u’ll reward him with a kiss, he’ll do his work immediately!!) if you tell him to stop drinking?? OKAY ANYTHING FOR YOU!!<3

KUNIKIDA knows you aren’t really his ideal type in a woman, but can’t help but be drawn to you. Once you two began a relationship, Kunikida tends to neglect his notebook just to look out for you/take care for you. If you point it out, he’ll just brush it off. He’s also really protective of you, even if it’s a little thing. Like when he makes you tea/coffee or any warm drink you like, he always tell you to be careful when touching it in order not to burn your hands or tongue, and always scolds you when you do the opposite. I also have this lil headcanon; whenever you both go to work, he’ll always check the weather forecast before leaving and brings an umbrella when it’s too hot/rains. It doesn’t matter if he gets wet, his priority is you not getting sick!

CHUUYA is a stubborn, hotheaded guy. He never listens to anyone(unless it’s you or his boss.) Before you guys started dating, he was always in a pissy mood, probably because of his work or his subordinates. But when you two started a relationship, his chihuahua mood somewhat disappeared. Yes yes, he knows. He always had a soft spot for you. But he didn’t know it would go this far as to change his personality! (Well as long as no one insults him or you, then yeah he won’t go back to the chihuahua phase.) hell, even the port mafia noticed his sudden personality change. he’s always gentle with you, especially since he knows he’s the strongest ability user.

FYODOR doesn’t really like overworking. But he has to do it for “the sake of the world” apparently. So when you come into the picture, you have to practically force him each time to stop working to rest even for a moment, to the point when he actually stops working even without you telling him not to. It’s just that you always force him to rest, that it feels weird if he didn’t take a break now. He also stops biting his nails, because “you say it’s unhygienic”, he says. He also doesn’t sleep much, but since he likes loves your presence and whole being, he forces himself to fix himself and his whole well being. hey, if you’re gonna “save” the world, you might as well look good while at it, right?

like fyodor, ANGO also doesn’t like overworking, in fact he hates it. But it’s his job and he signed up for it so.. no excuses. Ango knows his whole job is very dangerous, and you could get involved in dangerous matters, so from time to time, he makes sure to check up on you by texting you or calling you. It doesn’t matter what it’s about though, he just wants needs a response to make sure you’re safe. Same goes for you. You sometimes just send him a quick text to check up on him. Whenever he gets a free day from work, you guys usually stay in and relax together or just roam around Yokohama, but he’s mostly indecisive and will only go with where you want to go to or what you want to make up for the times he never is around you<3

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪs ʙʟᴏɢ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ @aoizaraka . ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴀɴʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪɴsᴘɪʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ/ʀᴇғᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇs ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ.

ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ © 2023

[starlightshadowsworld]

Bsd except the Agency never gets the tiger case.

Atsushi ends up in Yokohama and manages to steal the wallet of a passerby. There's not much but after being homeless for 2 weeks and starving, it's more than enough.

He gets some chazuke and leaves while some bandaged weirdo starts flirting with the waitress.

Atsushi knows he should get away, he can't stay in one place for too long. But he's tired and one bowl of chakuze is hardly enough to fill him for long. He curls up under the bridge and takes a quick nap.

The police detectives are too proud to ask for the Agencies help and go all out. When the tiger is seen in Yokohama, they manage to set a trap and detain it.

Things become a lot more complicated when day breaks and the man eating tiger turns into a scared boy. An ability user, and though many are suspicious Detective Minoura is not.

He sits by the cell of the kid, Atsushi and asks his questions. He learns Atsushi was kicked out of an orphanage 2 weeks ago, lining up with the tiger sightings.

And he has no idea he's the tiger, a conversation that was not fun to have. He knows Atsushi is genuine, that's he's scared. He'd love to let him go. But kids dangerous, too dangerous even if he's never hurt anyone.

It hurts his pride as a detective to even consider what he's about to do. But his pride should never come at the cost of innocent lives.

"So that's the story, if I was going by the book the kid would be arrested. Whether he knew it or not he caused a lot of terror, fear and a lot of property damage."

"And yet you aren't going by the book, you instead came here to me." Said Fukuzawa, taking a sip of his tea as he oberseved the police detective. "He doesn't deserve it. I couldn't get much out of him, but the kids been through hell. I'll take the punishment if it gets him out."

Fukuzawa nodded "we don't often meet eye to eye detective, but today I can say with certainty we do. You've done your job, now let us play our part."

Minoura nodded, relieved.

"Just... Please don't send Mr Super Genuis to deal with it." Fukuzawa chuckles, there's a twinkle of mischief in his eyes and Minoura sighed inwardly. He wanted to regret this but he couldn't.

Not even when Ranpo waltzed into the police precinct like he owned the place with a bright smile at getting to order the officers around.

His smile wavered slightly when he took in Atsushi. Minoura could see concern and anger flicker across his face before the smile returned and he told Atsushi he was breaking out of here.

The light returning to Atsushi's eyes told Minoura he'd made the right choice.

Atsushi was cautious. He stuck by Minoura the whole time as the paperwork was completed. Which was fair, he was maybe the only person who'd treated him kindly and Ranpo was a lot for anyone.

And yet, Minoura could tell Ranpo was putting on his best behaviour.

Seeing Atsushi's hesitation Minoura sat him down. "Hey, kid. These are... Friends of mine, they'll keep you safe." Seems like the kid wasn't used to hearing that and Minoura softened.

He scribbled down his number and handed it to him. "You ever get in trouble. You ever feel unsafe or afraid, you call me okay." Atsushi was surprised but took the written phone number like it was something precious.

He'd be okay, Minoura might not like the Agency but they were borderline feral in their protectivness over their loved ones. And hell, if anyone gave that kid trouble he'd make good on his promise.

[osaemu]

OSAMU DAZAI: ❛❛ MIDNIGHT RAIN ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ his melancholia is addicting. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. smut –> angst. cunniligus, implied p –> v, alcohol consumption. mentions of alcohol and smoking. established relationship.

author's note: somewhat inspired by cornelia street, easily the best song off of lover imo. fight me.

dazai's a stressed man—that's what years upon years of living in environments as active and tense as the mafia and the agency would do to anyone. so on the somewhat rare occasions that dazai softens around you, it's not a problem for you to oblige him.

ever since the two of you started dating, you haven't had a free night to yourself. nights that were once spent on the couch are now spent following dazai through the scarcely lit parts of yokohama, the only illumination of his figure being the soft rays of twilight bleeding from the sky.

on your little nights out, he never lets go of your hand. whether it's to tug you along cobblestone pathways or comfort you in the alleys you used to avoid, his fingers are always threaded through your own.

the more comfortable he gets with you, the more touchy he gets. dazai's arms seem like they were made to wrap around your waist, and you can't help but feel like a part of you's missing when his fingers aren't tangled with your own.

dazai's good with his words, and even better with his hands. only someone as adroit as dazai could make you see stars on your bedroom ceiling with just his fingers.

on nights when the agency works him like a dog, it's all you can do to keep your heart from melting when you see the way he falls asleep in your arms. for him, your touch is dangerously drug-like—something like a sedative, as he tells you the morning after.

dazai wouldn't have it any other way—he'd rather be addicted to you than to cigarettes or alcohol. and, lucky for him, he finds out after your first night in his sheets that you even taste better too.

one crisp evening after one too many glasses of whiskey, dazai's lips find their way to your collarbone, brushing across your skin in an almost ghost-like manner. the way he's holding himself back is almost painful to watch—the longing in his eyes plus the way he flexes his fingers pulls out a plea for him to just touch you from your lips.

one thing leads to another, and within a couple minutes your clothes are discarded to who-knows-where and all you can think about is how good dazai is to you.

and yet, even an hour later, he's holding himself back. despite being under the influence, dazai retains enough of his mind to resist the growing urge to fuck you to his heart's content. only after your pleas turn into full-on begging does he give in, deftly pushing your legs apart and sliding in effortlessly, mumbling praises on just how well you're taking him.

dazai eats you out like a man starved—when you convince him to fuck you with his tongue, he's ravenous. to him, you taste like heaven, and to someone who's certainly going to hell, he can't help but savor the taste of the paradise he'll never set foot in.

someone with such a tainted past like him doesn't deserve such a good girl like you. you shouldn't have to bear any part of the burden that rests on dazai's shoulders—it's not your fault he's so attracted to you.

that's a lie. the blame can only be put on you for being so accommodating, so comforting, so fucking perfect—at least, that's what dazai tells you from his spot in between your legs.

the pornographic sounds that the two of you make over the course of the night fluctuate every time one of you goes over the edge, mind swamped with nothing but thoughts of the other.

the night goes by too fast, marked by love-drunk kisses and nearly-spilt glasses of whiskey. neither of you has any idea how it started or how it'll end—the rumpled sheets tangled in between your legs is enough.

promises of i'm yours fall from both of your lips as the high starts to fade and your breaths start to slow, sleep tugging at the backs of your minds.

as the view around you fades to black, a last whisper slips through your lips. just before your eyes flutter closed, you relish the look of surprise on your boyfriend's face—it's exceedingly rare to catch dazai off guard, and for you, the person he thinks he understands the most to do so? impossible.

and yet the six words you murmur as your head hits the pillow leave dazai open-mouthed for a moment. he's speechless. the words themselves aren't much, but the meaning behind them is everything.

all good things come to an end—as a member of two of the most perilous organizations in yokohama, dazai knows this all too well. being surrounded by death and danger for half your life tends to destroy one's faith in destiny, and yet, as dazai watches you fall asleep on his chest, he dares to let himself hope against all odds.

all good things come to an end, but hopefully, this won't. he's invested far too much into this for it to crumble—if the worst happened, he'd never love again. it wouldn't be worth the risk, not if someone as perfect as you managed to slip through his fingers. he couldn't lose you, too.

so when he hears his thoughts mirrored on your lips, something in dazai's heart breaks. all his life, he'd been taught that permanence was a false promise. everything ended, good and bad, eventually. dazai had been taught to cut people off before they could hurt him, but for you?

if loving you was pain, then by all means, consider him a masochist.

"i hope i never lose you."

[jay72664]

Night

Dazai stares out into Yokohama, despite it being night it was still rather bright.

He let out a sigh, trying to shake off the remnants of his nightmare.

He’d been careful not to wake up Chuuya when he got up; a difficult task as the ginger had always been a light sleeper.

The sound of the balcony door skidding open told him he had not been careful enough.

It was only a few seconds before Chuuya’s arms were wrapped around his waist from the back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Chuuya’s voice came out quiet, especially compared to the noisy mess of the city below.

No, he definitely didn’t, Chuuya had heard enough about his fucked up mind and nightmares, and he wasn’t particularly keen on telling him more.

Besides, he knew exactly what he’d say.

“Go back to bed, Chuuya.” He mumbles, not even glancing over his shoulder to look at the shorter man.

Said man just snorts. “And leave you out here with whatever terrible thoughts are in your head? No chance in hell.”

Chuuya unwraps his arms and comes to stand beside him, placing his hand on top of Dazai’s.

“I’m going to stay out here until you come to bed with me.”

Dazai huffs. “That might be awhile.”

“That’s okay.” Is all Chuuya says in reply.

For a while they stand there in silence, staring out at the bright city below.

“You ever wonder what your life would be like without me?” Dazai finally asks, breaking the silence that had fallen over the two.

“I don’t need to, I had four years of that.” Chuuya replies, his thumb trailing over the back of his hand.

“Yeah, but that-that was different, what if you never met me?” He lets go of Chuuya’s hand.

Chuuya is silent for a moment, before deadpanning. “I’d be dead, many times over.”

“Come on, you know what I mean.” He snaps back, finally looking at his husband.

Chuuya scoffs and grabs his collar, pulling the taller man down to his level.

“There is no world, none, where I am happier without you than I am with.”

The complete and utter intensity in which he speaks the words leaves Dazai momentarily speechless, before he averts his gaze.

“So you say, but-“

“No buts.” Chuuya presses a soft kiss to his forehead.

“I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not letting you go anywhere.” He finally lets go of Dazai’s collar.

“I’m tired.” The brunette says after a long moment.

“Then let’s go back to bed.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

[ssaraexposs]

Why does this feel like Avengers: Infinity War finale? Fyodor is definitely pulling a Thanos here

[jackiepackiee]

Hello! Could I request a Chuuya x reader story (no AU please) where she is someone important like a princess, and they hire the best executive to protect her when she goes to Yokohama? 🩷🩷

𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶 𝓍 𝒫𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 - 𝓂𝒶𝒻𝒾𝒶

𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎

The royal family would do anything to protect their daughter, anything. Including hiring one of the most feared men in all of Yokohama from one of the most dangerous organizations in the world.

The port mafia, with some of the most dangerous executives.

Chuuya Nakahara, that name just yelled power.

Your family was their on business, and most of the guards needed to protect the other members. Only the most trusted, highly trained, powerful people were to be working for the family.

The meeting was set late at night. One of the high floors in the port mafias headquarters. Safe to say, you didn’t exactly expect skyscrapers. But here you were, being accompanied by a woman named Kouyou to meet your new bodyguard.

“You’ll like him, I’m sure of it. He’s a gentleman.”

You looked over, this was the first time she had spoken to you.

Looking to your feet, you didn’t respond.

“I can sense you’re nervous. About meeting him I presume?” She was calm, very easy to talked to.

“I’m afraid to say I’m a bit on edge. Never have I been protected by a stranger.”

The elevator opened, sleek floors of polished marble were to be expected of the meeting floor for a princess.

“Follow me, he should be with our boss in the main office.”

Shoes clicked as the two of you walked. Hers much more confident than yours.

Then, you met with a group of bodyguards in front of some wooden doors. They swung open, revealing a ginger man. He was facing the wide windows overlooking the port city. Adorn in a very expensive looking suit. Very well dressed was he, kinda cute too.

Next to him was a seated man, supposedly the boss. Mori. He noticed you and Kouyou first.

“Well, we have been expecting you.”

Chuuya turned around to see who he was speaking with. He waved politely to Kouyou before taking you in. So simple, yet so classy.

Even if you knew you should’ve said hi to the boss, you focused on your new bodyguard. And he was just as focused on you.

“Chuuya, this is your new assignment.”

He smiled, and tilted his head as a greeting.

“Hey princess.”

Leaving the office, he walked next to you. It was awfully quiet.

“Where are we going?”

“Eh? Oh, just your new place. It’s nice, and right next to mine.”

You looked at him from your peripheral, then back to the floor with speed when he looked at you too.

“Nervous? That’s alright, I’ll protect ya.”

“I’m… not nervous.”

He laughed, well more of a quick one.

“Why is that, princess?”

“You seem very strong…”

You didn’t mean to be so honest. Shit, what if he-

“Thank you. You know, how about we tour the city first? I’m sure it’s your first time in Japan.”

“How can you tell?”

“I have a feeling~”

You felt butterflies in your stomach, was he teasing? Why did this wanted criminal have to be so damn alluring?

“And I have a feeling you’ve never been around a princess with those manners of yours.”

He froze, and quickly stopped smirking. Until you laughed. When he realized you were teasing too, he rolled his eyes playfully.

“You’re feisty. Good thing, I thought this mission would have me walking on egg shells with everything I do.”

Soon, a group of men walked by. They stared at you, obviously not the stares you would want. And hell, was Chuuya pissed.

“The fuck you looking at? Damn underlings, move those eyes before I crush you!”

They quickly looked away, terrified. No wonder he was your bodyguard.

“Say princess, how about that tour?”

He took you through the city. It was beautiful, the port was cool and calming. The ocean smell was like a lullaby.

It was alright, until a group of thugs saw you. An enemy organization.

He grabbed your hand, and hid you in his coat. Gun shots went off, and you thought that was it. You were good at dead.

Until, no bullets hit you.

Screams from the men. You try to look, but he pulls you to his chest.

“No, I’ve got you. No need to look. Stay right here, pretty.”

You hadn’t noticed you started shaking, the guns obviously scaring you.

“Let’s go to where you’re staying. A nice, warm bed.”

Had you started, floating? What in the world?

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ll get you back.”

Soon, the cool air went away. And so did the noise of the city.

He moved your body gently away from his, and your feet met the ground.

“Where are we?”

“My plac- I mean, where you’ll be staying.”

“It’s warm.”

“Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

[ravencincaide]

Just a cake

Summary:  What was supposed to be a sweet innocent question aimed at gaining a sliver of Chuuya’s attention spiraled out of control. It shook the foundation of your relationship and everything you thought you knew. Indeed with one innocent question you lost it all- and yet saved yourself two decades of suffering all in one go. 

Pairing: Fem reader x Chuuya Nakahara 

Inspired by Raven’s special anon request: Chuuya says something that hurts the reader and she leaves. 

Warnings: Cursing, verbal argument, angst

Enjoy~

“ Can I ask for a birthday cake for my birthday?” 

Your tone was light and playful, almost joking- a stupid question meant to lighten the focused mood in the dark, stuffy, paperwork-filled office. A silent cry for a sliver of his attention, just a tiny reassurance that despite the heavy workload which plagued your lives, that he still cared enough not to forget about your important day. You envisioned that Chuuya would pull you into his lap. Then he’d kiss your skin in between bites of bento that you just brought to him just moments earlier. You envisioned a sweet promise that he had already ordered the best cake in Yokohama. or that he would tap your nose with a gloved finger while he demanded to know what kind of boyfriend you thought he was. 

Especially when all you asked for this year was a cake and homemade dinner.  Just a little time together in the privacy of your home.  You and him without praying eyes. Just you and him. Just you, the special news and–

“ Hmff what kinda cake do you want?” you flinched at his tone and paused in the middle of sorting paperwork, unsure whether you heard him right. Your eyes flickered upwards to meet Chuuya’s narrowed ones. Clear frustration itched into his face “ Tell me now the kind you want, doll. Or I’ll just pick something up on the way” You bit your lip. You knew you did not want just ‘something’; a day-old cake from the bakery, or a generic one from any grocery store still open once he got off work. You wanted a cake picked with time and care, selected with you in mind. The type of dedication he’d show whenever he got wine for his friends' birthdays. The warm kind of affection he’d shower you in on good days. The picture perfect generous and loving boyfriend in the eyes of others. 

“ Don’t bother,” you answered without anger. “ With that attitude, I’ll fix it myself.” You felt his narrowed eyes glare at you, but you did not spare him a second glance. You were afraid that his expression would make the burning rod of anger explode and escalate the situation further. 

Neither of you needed that now. 

“ Oj I said I’ll fix it” Chuuya snapped back “ Just stop fuckin asking about it constantly.” 

His comment was the wrong thing to say. It was the straw that broke the camel's back, the words that made the anger in your stomach spike into an uncontrollable fury. “ You know what? Don't bother getting me anything!” you hissed “ I don’t need a goddamn thing from you.” 

“ What the hell is your fuckin issue?” Chuuya’s fist made contact with the table, his action made the stack of your newly sorted paperwork slide down towards the floor “ You’ve been having a goddamn attitude lately, the hells your problem?!” 

“ I don’t know, maybe if you actually took your time to come home once in a while you’d know!” your palms hands slammed against the table in equally furious fashion. 

Chuuya let out a growl- bit back the insult at the tip of his tongue. Still his words came out just as sharp as before, if not more painful, blaming “ Do you even understand my financial role? Or do you think my apartment gets paid for by itself, just like the wine and other ‘necessities’?-” You opened your mouth, ready to snap back that he had himself to blame for refusing to take a damned penny off your hands. He had no right to blame you when you had offered to pay time and time again only for him to stuff the money right back into your hand. But he did not let you speak. No, Chuuya kept going, not finished in his fury-filled trade. “ - Besides who the fuck would want to come home to someone constantly ungratefully pissy, hmm?” 

“If that’s how you’re feeling then we shouldn’t be together at all” your voice was just shy of a scream, your eyes full of humiliated anger. There was one thing to be pissy because of work related stress but this was crossing boundaries even Chuuya would normally stay clear of. 

Not today. 

“ Maybe you’re fucking right about that doll!” Chuuya didn't yell. Yet his words echoed loudly, louder than any other sound in his god forsaken office.  

You felt like you were slapped. The fight left your system with one big exhale. Your shoulders slumped and you bowed your head. Hands returned to your sides, balled into tight fists. 

Chuuya waited for you to say something. When you didn’t he let out a long sigh and turned back to the papers in front of him. You heard the way he picked up his pen, the scratches of the tip against the pristine papers “ I’ll send someone with you to get your things.” 

“ Don’t bother, I don’t need or want jack-shit from you” you turned on your heel and headed in the direction of the office door. 

Chuuya spoke again before you could leave his office; “ Don’t bother coming back to the Mafia. You’re relieved of your duties.” 

A sense of dread filled you but you were too proud to show it. Your lips set into a thin line as your hand lingered on the doorknob. “ As you wish. Don’t come crying to me when you’ll regret this later.” you spat then snuck out of the room right before Chuuya’s fury could reach you. 

You closed the office door just in time to hear something smash against it behind you, presumably the half eaten bento you had taken such time and care to prepare for him. Made his favourite things and brought it over for him too. 

Fucking ungrateful bastard. 

 A dull frozen feeling set  in your body- your mind hadn’t processed what had just transpired. Could not understand how you had lost everything; your home, your job, your lover and your life over a simple question. A request for something other than a last minute generic cake for your upcoming birthday. 

Still as you sat down in your car and pulled out of the Port Mafia parking lot for the last time in your life you couldn’t help the tears that streamed down your cheeks. The suffocating heartache- but also the tiny bit of relief that bloomed in your chest. The relief at the fact that the bloodthirsty executive of the Mafia finally showed his true colours- true thoughts- about you. Blamed you for the fact that you had stayed home from work during the past weeks. Blamed you for the insufferable act of wanting your partners attention. No, he was your ex partner and that was for the better. 

It was better that you broke up now than if something similar happened in the next weeks. Or so you told yourself. A few days from now you would have told him the truth and then you would have been trapped with him. By him. A caged bird with no chance to escape. No you should be happy, thankful that he decided to finally show the ugly of his character. 

Murderer unable to handle a heart. 

As similar thoughts ran through your mind, you couldn’t help the almost manic smile that appeared on your lips as you drove further and further away from the life you knew. After all, you were certain Chuuya would come to regret this decision in the future. 

But by then it would be too late. 

Your eyes flickered to the passenger seat where a large, obnoxious gift bag sat. With huge golden letters it spelled out “congratulations” and from it peeked out a shirt with the words; 

You’re going to be a dad…

Author note: And Chuuya would most certain regret his actions ...

Hope you enjoyed this little special addition to Raven's special that's the lengths of an actual fic. Yes I've had it prepared in advance and used this as an excuse to publish it. Hope this angst hurt just a tiny bit more than the previous. Don't forget to check Raven's masterlist! and wait for the next Special ;) ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

[y1naho]

Dark Era: Dazai being a bitch

Dazai: No, Akutagawa, you're not going on the mission Akutagawa: Why, Dazai-san? Dazai: Have you seen your hair? You're why the percentage of tourists visiting Yokohama drop every year! Do you know how many tourists we lose because of your bangs? The other day I walked into the police office and they used the picture on your bounty as a 'Don't do drugs' poster- Akutagawa: *sobs* Chuuya: Motherfucker you're the one that gave him that haircut what the hell-