ao3-deviance

[ao3-deviance]

Find My Peace (Anticlimactic)

On Ao3

.....

Eventually Bakugou dropped his phone to the side, sighing as he looked up at the ceiling. Honestly he felt kind of let down. He'd built up being number one for so long but now it just felt like another ranking, just another day. He was a great hero, he was recognized years ago as such and he'd work to keep being a great hero as long as he could. But the actual label of number one, knowing he was put first, that all his hard work finally paid off…

It felt anticlimactic. 

#kiribaku #my writing #bakushima #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #fluff #domestic

[ao3-deviance]

Blindfolds and Curry

(Also on ao3)

For @bsdfanweek Day 3 - Secret Relationship

-----

Chuuya sighed the moment he stepped into his apartment, the scent of brine in the air. 

"Can you not today? Boss had me basically tortured all day to make me swear I haven't seen you."

"Well then," a familiar fishy voice came from behind him just as a silken cloth crossed his vision. He felt it being tied comfortably behind his head. "Let's make sure you don't see me."

"Asshole," Chuuya grumbled, but he didn't fight the other as Dazai maneuvered him out of his coat before kneeling to take off his shoes. "You better be putting those away correctly.”

"Yes, yes,” Dazai waved off his complaints, and Chuuya leaned into the kiss he gave him. Something soft and domestic, a simple I'm home. Chuuya slumped with exhaustion, not even yelling when he heard the predictable careless thump of his shoes being dropped into a disarray. 

Dazai's hands rubbed at his shoulders, a silently asked are you okay? Chuuya shrugged off his touch after a moment, walking by memory towards his kitchen. Being tortured because of his partner's betrayal of the Port Mafia wasn't fun, but Chuuya had had worse, and it definitely helped knowing that while Dazia had betrayed everyone else, he hadn't betrayed Chuuya. He'd even gone so far as to risk coming back to Chuuya's apartment the night Chuuya returned from overseas just to warn him of what had happened. 

Chuuya pulled out a bottle of wine, using his ability to pop the cork. He was almost tempted to drink straight from the bottle, but then he felt the coolness of glass being pressed to his free hand and he curled his fingers around the stem. 

“I'll order something delivered,” Dazai murmured, pressing his heat against Chuuya's back while speaking against the top of his head. Dazai's hands soothed Chuuya's sore shoulders, running up and down his arms and chest possessively. Chuuya grimaced as the movement agitated the wounds under his clothes, and he could feel the aura of malice coming from behind him. “Go, sit. Get comfy,” Dazai said nonchalantly, tone betraying nothing of his mood.

Chuuya didn't argue, moving towards the living area to rest. He heard the sounds of Dazai calling in for curry at the local place nearby before he felt the other's presence join him on the couch. Chuuya sipped at his dry red, breathing deeply and taking a few moments to just exist in this moment with his partner. Beneath the blindfold, his eyes were shut. 

Dazai's touch didn't startle him as the other reached for his hand, playing with his fingers for a few moments before tracing up his wrists, forearms. Then those fingers moved to his shirt, slowly unbuttoning it to reveal the damage Chuuya had borne due to Dazai's betrayal. 

“I could kill him,” Dazai stated, empty of emotion. 

“No, you couldn't,” Chuuya denied him tiredly. “Oda would be disappointed.” 

Dazai hissed quietly, like a cat pet the wrong way, and Chuuya felt him duck under his chin, kissing over Chuuya's throat where the signs of a recent strangulation attempt remained. 

“I could. For you.” 

“I wouldn't ask you to,” Chuuya said, “and I don't need you to, either. I can protect myself, Mackerel.”

“You should have pulverized him for touching you. For daring to–”

“No more work talk,” Chuuya cut him off, hearing the words Dazai wasn't saying. The I hate to see you hurt, the I'm sorry, and I feel useless. “Just…come here.” Chuuya lifted his arm, reaching out, and Dazai eventually shuffled closer. He pressed against his side, curling up as if he could make himself smaller than Chuuya, head nestling against his shoulder. 

Chuuya sighed, nosing against Dazai's hair and taking in the scent of the sea. “Did you try drowning today?” he asked, unimpressed. 

“No,” Dazai mumbled, petulant. “I just sat on the beach for a while. Too cold.”

Chuuya hummed in agreement. “Good. Last thing your weak ass needs is to get sick.” 

Dazai's fingers slipped between his open shirt, tracing the bandages decorating Chuuya's ribcage. He peeled one corner away to reveal their truth. Even and methodical, the cuts beneath could only have been made by a sharp weapon, something small and precise. A scalpel. 

Chuuya's hand covered Dazai's, pressing the bandage back to his chest. He nipped the tip of Dazai's ear, surprising the brunet enough that he was pulled from his thoughts, realizing he'd been grinding his teeth tightly. He unlocked his jaw, opening and closing his mouth a few times, and Chuuya offered a slight brush of lips against his jaw as a silent reward. 

“He'll give up eventually,” Chuuya reminded him. “He's just mad at himself for pushing you away.”

“He doesn't get to take that out on you,” Dazai snarled lowly. “If he wants to offer recompense, I'll gladly take my pound of flesh from him.”

“No. You won't,” Chuuya denied him again. 

“...I want to.” Chuuya could hear his pout. 

“I know. But he's not worth that; you giving up.”

“I'm not even on the good side yet. Couldn't I kill him and then start my two years underground?” 

“And if you kill him, who's going to lead the Port Mafia? You? Me?”

“Ane-san could–”

“You know damn well that she doesn't want to, and she won't if you try to make her.”

“...Verlaine?” Chuuya snorted at the idea, and he felt Dazai lose some of his tension, giggling a little at the thought himself. “You're right, he'd never do something that required him to leave his precious basement.” 

Chuuya laughed, shaking his head. “Just forget it. Boss is the best leader available right now, even if he is a bit of a bastard sometimes.”

“ All the time,” Dazai corrected. 

“Shush. Just focus on your light shit. I can handle the dark, partner.”

Dazai shivered against him at the title, pulling Chuuya closer as his arms wrapped around his waist. Chuuya let him, idly playing with Dazai's hair until their doorbell rang. 

“Food's here. Go get it,” Chuuya said, tugging lightly on Dazai's hair to make him move. 

Dazai complained the whole way, but he did get up, moving to answer the door. Chuuya reached for his glass of wine, taking a slow sip, frowning when Dazai didn't immediately return. He sat up, head cocked towards the foyer but he couldn't even hear the mumble of voices. He was reaching up to remove the blindfold before a familiar hand stopped him. 

“I got sushi!” Dazai sang, and the crinkle of bags joined him. 

Chuuya hummed, relaxing, before his brow furrowed. “I thought you ordered curry?”

“Nope! Did Chuuya want curry?” 

“I don't care. I just thought–”

The doorbell rang again. Chuuya stiffened, hearing Dazai rush to the door before returning with the sounds of more bags. 

“I got curry!” Dazai sang, “since my little doggie wanted it so badly.”

Chuuya scowled, tearing off the blindfold to glare at Dazai. There was a bag of sushi–enough for one–on the table between them, and a bag of curry for two in Dazai's hands. 

“Where did the sushi come from?” Chuuya demanded. 

“I ordered it.”

Chuuya's eyes narrowed. Dazai's face gave nothing away. “No, you didn't.”

“Just because Chibi didn't hear me, doesn't mean–”

“Who was at the door, Dazai?”

“The food delivery person.”

“Who brought the sushi?”  

“...a food delivery person.” 

Chuuya's lip curled. “Don't lie to me.”

Dazai was silent, watching him. His eyes were dark, but Chuuya could see the storm of fury underneath that spoke of his anger. 

“I'm not,” Dazai said evenly, carefully. “The sushi was brought by someone delivering you food. Someone who thought you might've had trouble getting food tonight.”

Chuuya exhaled slowly. There had only been one person present for his questioning today: the Boss himself. Mori has even kept it secret from Kouyou, no doubt because she would have never allowed it. 

“Dazai–”

“He's not dead,” Dazai immediately cut him off. “I let him leave.”

Chuuya eyed him doubtfully. 

“...and he won't touch you again,” Dazai added. Then he smiled. It was wrong, mean and twisted, and Chuuya didn't like the look of it on the other's face. He grabbed a pillow from the couch, throwing it and hitting Dazai square in the face. When it fell to the ground, the smile was gone, replaced by a familiar pout. “Chuuya!” Dazai whined, stomping his foot dramatically, “So mean!”

“Shut up and come eat,” Chuuya said, resigned. He'd deal with whatever mess Dazai had stirred up tomorrow. 

—--

Dazai opened the door with a pleasant grin, one that immediately froze over and shattered the moment his eyes landed on the man at the door. Mori's eyes widened with genuine surprise before a smirk began to twist his lips up. 

“Ah, I kn–”

Dazai shoved him back, stepping out the door and closing it soundlessly behind him. 

“You touch him again, you won't like it when I come back,” Dazai cut him off, darkly pleased by the way the smirk fell from Mori's face. 

“When?” Mori questioned, brow rising in interest. “So you would return?”

“I would,” Dazai nodded, eyes steady, “to send us both sailing off the top of your building. I'd even hold onto you the whole way down so your precious Elise wouldn't interfere.”

Mori stiffened. “A threat? Really, Dazai, haven't you grown past those?”

“Not a threat,” Dazai murmured, stepping closer until they were practically breathing the same air. “A promise.”

Mori frowned. “There's no need for such hostility.”

“Right now, Mori-sensei, there's only one goddamned reason left for me to even try to keep breathing, and he's waiting for me to bring him curry for dinner.” Dazai narrowed his eyes in challenge. “Take that reason away. I dare you.” 

Mori paused, studying Dazai for a moment before offering the white plastic bag Dazai hadn't realized he was holding. “Well then. You best bring him dinner, hm? It's sushi, not curry. I thought he might have some difficulty procuring food tonight. He…had a rough day.”

Dazai smiled sharply, cutting. “How thoughtful.” He accepted the bag. “He just needs some rest. I'm sure a day like today won't happen again.” 

Mori studied Dazai for a long moment. He tilted his head in acknowledgment, turning to leave. 

He passed a food delivery person in the lobby; it smelled like curry. 

#soukoku #bsd #my writing #nakahara chuuya #dazai osamu

[ao3-deviance]

⚙️RIOT PREVIEW⚙️

World hard and cold. Friends soft and warm. Who wouldn't want this lil guy as a companion? ❤️🐉

@ao3-deviance has woven a heartwarming tale of a baby dragon Kirishima finding his place in the world.

✨We're still about 15 bundle orders from unlocking our 300-order stretch goal! With ONE week and a handful of days left, can we unlock more goodies?

Preorder at 🛍️ https://rriotzine.bigcartel.com !

#it me! #so excited to share my fic! #everyone's pieces look so goooood #celebrating the red boy #Kirishima Eijirou #zine #zine preview

[ao3-deviance]

Use Your Words

(on ao3)

"I know we're in a truce with the Port Mafia, and Akutagawa did agree to stop killing people for now, but I just don't know how to make it work between us." Atsushi looked up, sincerity in his eyes. "How do you manage it, Dazai-san?"

Dazai felt something like his spirit ascending outside of his body as he stared into Atsushi's naive and innocent eyes.

"How do I manage what?" He asked, caught somewhat off guard by wherever this line of questioning was going. Sure, he'd wanted Atsushi and Akutagawa to team up, but he hadn't expected romantic feelings to become involved.

"Your relationship with Nakahara-san." Dazai felt his heart stop beating for a moment in his chest, forcibly concentrating so he could make it start back up normally. Atsushi continued on, oblivious to the damage he was causing. "You defected from the Port Mafia which must have hurt him pretty bad since you guys were partners. It seems like he forgave you though. So how do you make it work? How do you–"

"Atsushi," Dazai wheezed, "I need you to stop talking."

Atsushi did, looking a bit chagrined once he realized the state of his mentor. "Sorry. Too personal?"

"Chuuya and I are not together. In any way."

#dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #soukoku #bsd #my writing

[ao3-deviance]

Update!

Three weeks until aftersales for INVICTUS close! With that we bring you the first holiday surprise: 25% off our store!!!

Grab your SFW pdf full of beautiful KrBk angst and the NSFW add-on guaranteed to put you in your feelings.

Grab your copy here!

#zine #not fic

[ao3-deviance]

My NSFW for @invictuskrbkzine!

Lead (I Will Follow)

(on ao3)

The worst scar was on his side, just under his ribcage, and Kirishima traced it now with a gentleness that never failed to stutter Bakugou’s heart.

“The day you got this was the worst day of my life,” Kirishima said softly, coaxing Bakugou higher up on his chest so he could lean up and kiss over the marred skin.

“Death did not claim me that day. When we go, we will be together. No force on this earth may separate us.”

"A dragon does not part with his treasure,” he agreed, referring to his forsaken moniker that was sweeping the land, the Red Dragon of Yuuei. An unbreakable steed for the leader of the Yuuei tribe, the Untamed Berserker Bakugou Katsuki.

#kiribaku #my writing #bakushima #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #zine #viking au

[ao3-deviance]

So excited to post my @invictuskrbkzine pieces!

The first one up is my SFW piece:

Your Mark on Me

(On ao3)

“I’m really sorry,” Kirishima said on their way home, once they were alone and back in their school uniforms. No longer heroes, not right now. Just Bakugou and Kirishima.

“Shit happens.”

“I should’ve been more careful. I—”

“You will be next time,” Bakugou said, taking his hand and squeezing. “Rather you scrape me up a bit than a civilian. I can take it.”

“But you shouldn’t have to. I should’ve—”

“You going to do it again?”

Kirishima stopped, eyes wide as he whirled to face the other. “No!” He denied, vehement. “Why would you even—”

“Then it’s fine,” Bakugou said simply. “You learned something new, and it won’t happen again.” Bakugou stepped forward, cupping his face to make Kirishima’s shame-filled eyes look at him. “I know you won’t let it happen again, Red. I trust you.”

.....

(The scars Bakugou and Kirishima leave on each other, and the healing that follows.)

#kiribaku #my writing #bakushima #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #zine

[ao3-deviance]

There was a lot unsaid between them. 

Some people said they could read each other's minds, but that wasn't quite it. If hard-pressed, Dazai wasn't completely sure he could describe it himself. His connection with Chuuya wasn't normal by any means, and it rivaled the complication of the Riemann hypothesis. But they still worked. Inexplicably. Undeniably. Unbreakably.

“I hate you.”

The words said between them most often, and yet Dazai couldn't say for sure if they were a lie or not. There was something tethering them, some emotional conglomeration woven stronger than steel, but to narrow it down to just one thing felt inadequate. 

When Chuuya touched him, Dazai burned, skin set aflame for hours later. When Chuuya looked at him, his chest contracted, lungs compressed, and Dazai found it difficult to look away. They avoided each other like a planet and its moon, caught in each other's gravity, never colliding but unable to break apart. Dazai had no delusions of which part he played, ever the moon paying worship to the planetary god made flesh that existed as Nakahara Chuuya. 

“Chuuya,” he called him, as if he ever held the right to speak a god's name. To own it with his teeth and tongue, to cry it out into the darkness when Chuuya took him like it was his right. 

(It was. There weren't many pieces of Dazai left, but most of what few there were had always and would always be Chuuya's. Dazai had been his from the moment he'd stood over Dazai with a foot at his throat and the sun at his back, eclipsing any other star Dazai might have followed.)

#soukoku #bsd #nakahara chuuya #dazai osamu #my writing #drabble #my head is so wrong right now but i want to write so much its driving me bonkers #this is a difficult time of year for me mentally

[ao3-deviance]

Aftersales are now OPEN!

Aftersales for INVCITUS: A KiriBaku Scars Zine is now open!!

This digital-only anthology zine explores the stories Kirishima and Bakugou's physical, and emotional scars tell!

Our shop will remain open until January 15th, get your copy for immediate download here

#zine #im so excited to share my fics y'all #everyone's pieces are soooo good #not fic

[ao3-deviance]

Bakugou didn't pause as he stormed into the apartment, dropping his things in a trail along the way to his bedroom, where he face-planted next to the sole occupant on the bed.

“Long day?” 

Fingers combed through his hair, and Bakugou shuffled a little closer. He heard a chuckle and then the mattress shifted, before he felt a weight straddle his hips and confident hands press into his shoulders. 

“Fuck yes,” Bakugou groaned, eyes shutting. “They should be thanking me for not committing murder.”

“Mm-hmm.” 

The hands were steady in their pressure, thumbs rubbing along his spine expertly, and Bakugou felt the tension being forcibly rubbed from his body. He didn't fight it. 

“Surprised you're here,” Bakugou commented, already sounding less angry. “Thought you had work today.”

“I–or, well, he–finished early.” The other snickered at his own joke, and Bakugou managed a small huff.

“Lame joke, Eijirou,” he accused, but the tone was fond. 

“Welcome home, love.” This was met with familiar lips pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, a nose trailing along his hairline to his jaw. 

Bakugou rolled over, looking up at the red-headed male straddling him. He was smiling with too many, too sharp teeth exposed, eyes glowing even in shadow, and the longer Bakugou looked, the less human he appeared. Not that Kirishima tried particularly hard these days, not for Bakugou. The hands that rested on his shoulders had flawless nails, all coming to the slightest points to suggest claws. Bakugou knew they could easily grow to a much more lethal length. 

“Was your day okay?” He asked, shuffling a little to sit up against the pillows but doing nothing to dislodge the man who followed his movement and leaned down to nuzzle their noses together. 

“Was fine,” Kirishima hummed, kissing under Bakugou's chin. “Missed you.” His arms wrapped around Bakugou's neck, tugging him closer into a hug.

“Yeah,” Bakugou breathed, hands finding their home on the other's hips, holding him close as he returned the embrace. Once, such a touch would've been awkward, but now Bakugou was familiar with the others touchiness, even encouraged it a lot of the time. They'd discussed limits and boundaries until Bakugou was hoarse, so it was easy now to trust Kirishima not to push for more than Bakugou was willing to give. 

“Sleep with me?” Kirishima asked, pulling away to meet Bakugou's gaze. His eyes were magnetic, alluring. Bakugou shoved a palm into his face and pushed him off of him. He rolled onto his back on the bed beside him, giggling, and it sounded like bells. 

“Idiot,” Bakugou accused, but he did snuggle down into the bed, letting Kirishima spoon up behind him. The other purred against his back, and the teeth pressed against his neck were all for show. 

“I was just asking for a nap,” Kirishima teased. “I know you like a nap after a bad day to reset before we do dinner.” 

“Fucking incubus,” Bakugou grumbled, sending Kirishima into another round of laughter, “and a liar too. You'd sleep with me in a heartbeat if I offered.”

“I would,” Kirishima agreed easily, “but you haven't offered, and you know I wouldn't take without your consent.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bakugou relented, and he relaxed against the mattress, letting some of the tension that had gathered in his shoulders evaporate again. For a demon, Kirishima was oddly concerned about consent, said Bakugou's rejection smelled too sharply to be ignored. For someone like Bakugou, who had no interest in sex ever, it was equally odd that he'd find a sex demon more accepting of his ‘no’ than most other humans he'd tried dating. 

“Sleep,” Kirishima cooed to him, and he was definitely adding some of his magic, not that it truly touched Bakugou the way it did most. It did feel warm though, like the arms that were wrapped around him. Bakugou didn't feel the need to fight his heavy eyes any longer, drifting off to sleep in his demon's embrace. 

#kiribaku #bakushima #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #my writing #fluff #asexual bakugou #demon kirishima #incubus kirishima #idk i just felt like this dynamic would be fun #not sure if ill write anymore but here you go

[ao3-deviance]

Everyone, from all walks of life, can admire and appreciate Kirishima's manliness including our writer, @ao3-deviance!

"Hi hi~ IRL I'm more like Jirou, but I admire Kirishima's manliness and am excited to share the appreciation for our Best Boy!" -Deviance

TYSM for any shares!

@atozines @bnhabulletin @bnha-community-board @bnhafandomcalendar @bokunozines @uahigh-newsletter @fandomzines @zineforall @zinecenter

#zine #not fic #so excited for this one! #it me!

[ao3-deviance]

Last night at the front!

Pre-orders for INVICTUS: A KrBk Scars Zine close TOMORROW!

6 SFW stories by @kbstories, @ao3-deviance, @alpha-hydra @trenchcoatkitten, Kallistos and Onierokinetic

5 NSFW stories by @kbstories, @ao3-deviance, @feypendragon, Kallistos and Kaustikha

2 perfect wallpapers by @nicomyrna

1 beautiful comic by @lostlegendaerie

Gorgeous covers by @berryheroic you will want to frame

Don't miss out! Order your copy here http://invictuszine.itch.io/bundles

#zine #not fic #its almost time!!!

[ao3-deviance]

Regret

(Also on Ao3)

Mori was not unfamiliar with regret. 

Of course, he'd never let that stop him from acting in Yokohama's best interest. A few times in his life, he'd even had the displeasure of regretting his actions before he'd even taken them. But above all else lied the greater good, so he couldn't let sentimentality or emotions sway him from it. 

He sat in his chair contemplating such regrets now, looking out over the skyline and brushing a finger along the rim of his glass on the table beside him. He smiled wistfully. Peace was hard to come by but always appreciated, especially given his position and the current tumultuous status of their dear city. 

"Boss." 

Mori looked up to see Chuuya stepping into the office, holding up a few manilla folders. Mori inclined his head to the chair next to him. 

"Chuuya, welcome back. Leave the reports on my desk and have a drink with me."

Chuuya didn't argue, always up for a casual drink. The man did as requested, leaving the files neatly on Mori's desk before coming around to take the empty seat. He poured himself a healthy glass of wine, and Mori hid his smile behind his own glass. His executive's love of the drink was no secret, but neither was his incredibly low tolerance of the stuff. Mori eyed the one glass and wondered if he'd need to send for someone to escort Chuuya home after this. 

"Mission went well, I presume?"

"Yes," Chuuya nodded, swishing the wine in his cup and sniffing it with a grin. "No casualties or unexpected issues."

"Well done," he praised. "And our truce? How fairs our little kept detectives?"

Chuuya snorted, rolling his eyes. "They have no troubles, not with that bandaged menace among them. If anything, our concern should be them betraying us first."

Mori hummed thoughtfully, eyes sliding from Chuuya back to the cityscape. "I'm not concerned," he admitted easily. "Dazai is smarter than that."

Chuuya grumbled under his breath what sounded like disagreement on Dazai's intelligence, but Mori just chuckled at his theatrics. 

"Chuuya," Mori called his attention, "you know I have much respect for you, thanks to all that you've done since joining the Port Mafia. You are an incredibly talented individual and much more than simply the brawn of Double Black, as some of our enemies may say. I trust your strategy."

Chuuya seemed to be getting embarrassed under his praise, but his face twisted with befuddlement at Mori's last statement. "My strategy?" 

"With Dazai," Mori clarified, smile sharp. 

Chuuya tensed ever-so-slightly. "What do you mean? I hate Dazai and want him dead."

Mori raised a brow, glancing over at him. "Oh? Did I misunderstand Dazai being seen leaving your apartment several times since our truce?" 

Chuuya's face was redder than his hair. "That vagabond broke in, it wasn't–"

"Chuuya," Mori cut him off simply, turning in his chair to face his executive with a smile. "We're in a truce. Dazai is a valuable piece. He may never rejoin the Port Mafia due to his…certain sensitivities, but myself being out of his favor does not extend to our entire organization. I paired you together all those years ago because I saw something great in the two of you. If that extends beyond what was initially expected, I do not hold that against you."

Chuuya's hands were curled into tight fists, leather creaking. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think you do," Mori disagreed, "but I won't force you to speak it out loud. I just meant to offer my blessing, should you wish to continue your liaison with less stress about discretion." He frowned with concern. "You do carry such a heavy weight for one at your age. I don't wish for you to burn out, Chuuya. If you need to take some time for yourself, you're always welcome to." 

Chuuya's mouth opened and closed without sound, as if he wasn't sure where to begin. Mori smirked, turning away and taking a sip of his drink. 

"Dazai and I," Chuuya eventually settled on, teeth gritted, "are nothing more than ex-partners." 

Mori hummed. "I'm not expecting you to tell me everything, but I'd appreciate it if you refrained from lying to my face."

Chuuya sputtered. "Wha–no! I'm not–He's nothing to me, I haven't–I would never betray the Port Mafia, this is my family, I–"

Mori held up a hand. "No one is accusing you of anything," he said. His mind went to an old place, with silver hair and a sword and trust so deeply ingrained in his bones that it felt like it could never be removed. It had been, eventually, but sometimes he still felt the remnants, the taste of the nostalgia heavy on his tongue, especially with their new truce. He sighed. "Sometimes there are people in this world who just fit together, as if you were matching puzzle pieces. I sensed that with you and Dazai, that's why I had you two team up as partners. And I think I've been proven correct by this point, between all the happenings throughout the years."

"I would never–"

"I trust you, Chuuya," Mori cut him off easily, and it was a fact. Even if he couldn't trust Dazai as much as he wanted, Chuuya was bluntly honest with those he felt loyal to and even with his own impressive set of skills and brilliance, he'd never shown any drive or desire to uproot the Port Mafia with a coup. Even if he was popular enough to have his own subset of loyal followers, Chuuya was meant to follow orders himself, not give them. He couldn't handle the weight of an entire organization on his back, the decisions that had to sometimes be made, one life for many. Chuuya still mourned every life they lost, knew every one of his underlings by name, and while that was becoming of a man, it was not a good trait for a leader of an organization with as bloody of a history as the Port Mafia. 

"Dazai is angry at me," Mori said, "and he may always stay angry at me. But: he's too much like me to not see the benefit of this organization's existence; he's too smart to not be able to subtly influence certain events around us; and," he paused, putting the entire weight of his assessment on Chuuya as he met the other's gaze, "he's too emotionally involved with certain members to allow anything too tragic to happen to us. He won't let you get too far from him, Chuuya. All I ask is that you return the favor."

"I still don't understand what you're talking about," Chuuya frowned. "Dazai is a traitor."

"Dazai is a teenager having a temper tantrum," Mori said, long-suffering, "but alas, he always was. You have always taken care of his plans, sometimes without even discussing it with him like that recent issue with Shibusawa. I give you free reign to continue doing so." Mori waved him off. "It's fine with me if you remain close to him. That's all."

Chuuya seemed like he wanted to keep denying it, but instead he grabbed his wine glass and chugged the whole thing inelegantly, standing and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. 

"Thank you, boss. I think I'm going to retire for the day," he said with strain in his voice. 

Mori smirked, nodding at him. "You're dismissed. Why don't you take tomorrow off as well? Don't worry about coming in until Monday. " 

"Very well. Thank you," Chuuya agreed stiffly, before turning about and walking out the door as awkwardly as a robot. 

Mori rolled his eyes. Dazai and Chuuya may not be teenagers anymore, but they certainly still acted like they were, at least where the other was concerned. He was sure he didn't need to remind Chuuya about tomorrow being Dazai's birthday, and he expected the other had been planning to ask off anyways. Mori had been dealing with a slew of tiny annoyances all day, and he recognized that the secret alert codes that the Port Mafia used had spelled out 'Let My Dog Free' in Dazai's own secret code from when he was fifteen. He didn't want to imagine what havoc Dazai was planning to unleash if Mori hadn't given Chuuya tomorrow off. 

"Introducing them was either my best idea or my worst," Mori spoke to himself. "Only time will tell, I suppose." He allowed himself one more moment of melancholy before he felt Elise appear at his side. 

"Rintarou! I want a new doll," she demanded, stomping her foot.

"Of course, let's go to the shops then," he agreed easily, setting aside his thoughts on other matters to have a moment in the present. 

There would always be another day full of regrets. 

#my writing #soukoku #mori ougai #bsd #nakahara chuuya

[ao3-deviance]

News from the front

Sharpen your blades, its the final countdown! 3 more days until our pre-orders close. Don't miss out on 230+ pages of SFW content and 150+ pages of NSFW add-on that is hot enough to melt steel!

Preorder your copy now http://invictuszine.itch.io/bundles

#zine #not fic

[ao3-deviance]

the pet name drabble is so cute ty for sharing <33

Thank you! Glad you enjoyed 😁

#ask #anonymous #not fic

[ao3-deviance]

Pet Names

"Hey, Kit Kat, how's it breaking?" 

Bakugou looked up from his book, blinking with befuddlement. Kirishima immediately wanted to kiss his nose as Bakugou scrunched it up, and since they were boyfriends, he decided to do just that, leaning over the back of the couch to smooch him. He giggled as he pulled away, seeing Bakugou's eyes cross as he tried to keep looking at Kirishima's face. 

"The fuck did you just say?" Bakugou asked, tilting his head, and god, Kirishima loved him. 

"What's up, basically," Kirishima explained, leaping over the back of the couch so he could recline and put his head in the blond's lap. 

"What did you call me though?" Bakugou said, lip curling with annoyance. 

"Kit Kat," Kirishima said, reaching up to soothe the wrinkles in Bakugou's brow with his thumb. "I thought it was cute."

Bakugou rolled his eyes, face finally relaxing again as he looked back at his book. He held the book in one hand, the other freed up so he could comb through Kirishima's hair. The redhead immediately melted under his touch.

"Whatever," Bakugou acknowledged. "'S stupid, but so are you, so."

Kirishima burst into laughter. Even dating hadn't smoothed out all of the blond's prickliness, but he wasn't upset about it.

"Want me to call you something else?" He asked curiously. "Honey? Sweetheart? Darling?" 

Bakugou shoved his palm into his face, squeezing his cheeks as Kirishima tried to grin at him. "Fuck off, dumbass!" His face was brilliantly red, and Kirishima loved it. 

"Awe, come on, Blasty. Boyfriends should have cute names for each other."

"I let you call me Katsuki."

"Yeah, but so do your parents. I want to be special," he stressed.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. "You are special, you idiot." 

Kirishima pouted. "You call everyone an idiot," he argued. 

"Hah?" Bakugou set his book down on the table, sending Kirishima a serious look. "You fucking with me right now? Or is this really bothering you?" 

Kirishima shrugged, biting his lip unsurely. "Maybe…a little of both?" He hesitantly admitted. "It's fine if you're not comfortable with it, though. Just Katsuki is special enough, cause no one else here gets to call you that." He smiled softly up at the blond. 

Bakugou hummed; he had that look in his eyes that meant he was thinking about something serious. He played with Kirishima's hair in the meantime, relaxing the redhead into a light doze as he just soaked in his boyfriend's affection. 

"Sunshark."

Kirishima opened his eyes, blinking in confusion. "Sunshark?" He repeated. 

"You're my sunshark," Bakugou decided, nodding to himself. He brushed his fingers along the side of Kirishima's face, tracing around his eyes with a gentle touch. "Sun," he said, brushing the spikes of his hair up, before moving to Kirishima's lips which naturally parted under his touch. Bakugou poked at his teeth, "Shark." Then he leaned back, flicking Kirishima's nose lightly and huffing a small laugh to himself as Kirishima rubbed at his nose. His face was quickly heating under Bakugou's soft gaze.

"Okay," he managed to get out without squeaking. "I'm okay with that one." 

"Good." 

"Canyoubemydandelion?" Kirishima asked quickly. 

Bakugou sputtered, surprised, and he sent him an incredulous look. "You're calling me a fucking weed?" 

"No, no," Kirishima was quick to assure, laughing at the absurdity. "I meant, your hair looks similar to one, yeah? And dandelions are tough fuckers to beat; they even grow in between concrete!" 

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, as if he didn't fully believe Kirishima's reasoning, but he eventually sighed and shrugged. "I guess. Whatever you want." He leaned down to peck Kirishima's forehead. "Boyfriends are supposed to get special treatment or whatever." 

Kirishima beamed. "Thanks, dandy," he said automatically, chuckling at the way Bakugou's face scrunched with unsurety on how he felt about the nickname.

"Whatever, babe. You're so weird," Bakugou determined, and Kirishima immediately clicked his jaw shut, eyes bugging at the casual use of 'babe.' 

K.O. Super effective. 

Bakugou grinned to himself, turning the page of his book while Kirishima drooled in his lap with hearts in his eyes. 

#kiribaku #bakushima #my writing #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #fluff #idk bakugou calling kiri sunshark came to me in a dream #this is just some random drabble i felt the need to get out of my head #not really my usual style of writing but i had fun with it

[ao3-deviance]

Twilight Dream

On Ao3

Summary:

After Mersault, after the Hunting Dogs, after Bram and the vampires, after Sigma, and the hospital, and the Port Mafia, and the ADA, after, after, after everything…

Dazai found himself at a familiar apartment. He didn't even have to reach for his lockpick as the door swung open under his hand.

"Can't believe that fucking worked," Chuuya spoke, voice much lower than usual. "Wasn't he supposed to be as smart as you?"

"Chuuya surprises me sometimes too," Dazai reminded him.

Chuuya scoffed. "Never that much."

Dazai pressed their sides together and the other's warmth was soothing to the anxiety he still felt about the end. "We have had moments when our hearts reached out to one another."

Chuuya hummed. "Our fate didn't end there. We're destined to…"

Finally, Chuuya looked at him, their eyes meeting, and Dazai immediately broke into giggles. Chuuya dropped his head back onto the couch and laughed, laughed, laughed.

#my writing #soukoku #dazai osamu #bsd spoilers #bsd #nakahara chuuya