pillowaya

[pillowaya]

Probably still adore you with your hands around my neck

Chuuya had always seen honey within Dazai's eyes. Thick, sweet, trickling all the way down from his fluttery dark lashes to his dim, bright irises.

Chuuya had always felt honey radiate from Dazai's discreet gaze, so lovesick and warm it could drive anyone crazy.

In fact, Dazai's entire being was crafted from honey when it came to Chuuya. When it came to adoring, loving and fancying the way his reddish hair curls around his neck, the way his eyebrows furrow when he's annoyed, the way his voice changes when he's flustered. When it came to Chuuya, Dazai melted like honey.

Dazai was in love with Chuuya, and Chuuya knew for sure.

But before Chuuya came into the picture, Dazai had once melted for another man with hair just as reddish and eyes just as blue. And that, Chuuya didn't know. Couldn't know.

Because Dazai was so dense with secrets and calculations his feelings rarely made sense to him, himself before anyone.

Because in the nights where longing blinded Dazai's vision, Chuuya was always away.

So when Chuuya, idly sipping his coffee, heard what sounded like muffled cries, his heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

There was a time Dazai had eyes for no one but Oda Sakunosuke, and it wasn't too long ago. Dazai effortlessly gave in to Oda's gentle smile and strange philosophy, and Oda offered him the same interest, adoration softening his usually serious eyes, dancing at the tips of his features. Dazai tightly clinged to his chest, nose nuzzled into his collarbone and, safe in his hold, felt like he could rule the whole world. Felt safe– safe from the madding life of a mafia executive, safe to express what he wanted to, safe to cry and safe to laugh. Dazai distantly noted Chuuya never generated that same, unbeatable safety– and as much as he pushed the thought to the back of his mind, his heart ached to return to the strong arms of the man he loved most.

It couldn't be helped, Oda was stubborn. Dazai wanted to smile but his lips refused to, even if for a tired, sad smile. Dazai had killed a lot of people, more than a righteous citizen could fathom, more than a devil could personally accept; over a hundred– and his hands were constantly red with blood he would've thought Oda's lifeless body between his arms wouldn't feel so– so wrong, so out of place, so painful–

He buried his face into the pillow at the memories that spread slowly all over his mind, clogging his hearing, haunting his thoughts. Oda was so unnaturally cold, his fingers weakly pulled Dazai's bandages off before his hand fell limply by his side and his eyes shut for all eternity. He was so cold and drenched in fresh blood Dazai wanted to scream, to cry, to writhe in the pain churning in his innards, at the despair that invaded him. A human could only take that much, Dazai discovered. He thought there was a limit to how much he loved Oda. He thought he'd be able to collect himself and move on, but the gentle curve of Oda's waist still tainted his hand, dominating over the blood of a one hundred thirty eight soul. He really thought he'd be able to move on but Oda still plagued his mind, still chained his heart and paralyzed his very soul. Oh how he was wrong, Dazai still hadn't forgotten. He will never forget.

The smile finally traced itself and it felt so forced, so bitter, Dazai dismissed it at the simple thought Oda wouldn't have liked seeing it. Not when he saw Dazai's childlike joy and gleeful smile, one that isn't fake or malicious, one of pure enjoyment and love.

Even Chuuya had never seen that smile.

Chuuya….

Chuuya stood by the door, hair hanging loosely on his shoulders, eyes coated in worry. Dazai would've melted, the brown of his irises would've turned into honey if the affliction in his gut wasn't too strong to manage.

When Oda died, Dazai cried. For the first time in a while. His body felt like pins and needles and his nails dug into his palm felt like nothing at all although there was blood slowly trickling down. When Oda died, Dazai died, inside. His body became a shell of unrequited destiny and unbearable disbelief, and he curled his fists, banged them against the wall, kissed Oda's cold lips goodbye and cried. As loud as he was able to, it didn't matter anymore.

There was so much want swirling inside him his vision shook a little at the sides. Depression could be translated into compulsion and with Chuuya in sight, Dazai harshly wiped his teary eyes and stood up, violent revenge against something he wasn't sure of yet invading his thought process.

Chuuya barely had enough time to react when Dazai grabbed a fistful of his hair and slammed him against the closest wall, the supposedly honey brown morphing into something darker than what Chuuya had ever seen before. And Dazai clashed his lips onto his, a little too vigorously, but Chuuya couldn't say no, regardless of if he knew the situation or not.

Oda's soft smile flashed in his mind and Dazai seethed inside out, his heart feeling like a scorching, throbbing mess within his chest. He never allowed Oda to die. He sank his teeth into Chuuya's plump lips until the metallic taste of blood flooded both their mouths and Chuuya winced in slight pain, not particularly liking the fingers clawing at his ginger hair, messing it up and pushing him deeper into the wall, his and Dazai's height difference making itself important and well known as Dazai towered over him and forced a leg between his thighs, his free hand reaching out to hold his waist.

Chuuya used more strength than he imagined to pull away, their lips disconnecting with a line of blood and saliva.

"That was.." He tried, voice hoarse. "...harsh, Osamu"

Dazai didn't reply and Chuuya shrunk into himself when he saw him lean in for another kiss. "Only if it's softer," he remarked, wiping the blood off his lips into his sleeve.

Oda died.

And when Oda died, Dazai died, inside.

Dazai nearly growled at the thought. He wanted his mind to shut up. He wanted it to go blank, empty, null. He wanted everything to stop. But Chuuya's eyes were too blue and Oda's eyes were, too, and Oda died. And Dazai died. And everything died– and there was nothing anymore, but a painful, vengeful spite he held onto because he couldn't forget, he couldn't move on.

Oda died.

When Oda-

"Shut up!" Dazai's tone had a bite to it that Chuuya never heard before, not from the playful, meticulous and gentle man Dazai was. It sounded directed to him when Dazai directed it to his own brain, raging, unforgiving mind, and want swirled relentlessly again, and–

"N-Ngh..!" Chuuya tried to escape the hands that mercilessly caged his neck in place, so tight around his trachea it gradually became harder to breathe. Dazai was nothing but honey, nothing but sugar, nothing. His eyes were dark and gazing right ahead, piercing right into the demons within his mind. He dug his ten fingers into Chuuya's neck and Chuuya helplessly let out another whimper, kicking his feet into Dazai's to signal him to let him free, his skin slowly becoming a magenta purple, his lungs begging for air.

Dazai loosened his grip and Chuuya fell into the ground, coughing to regain some breath, his face red and his mouth glistening with saliva as he strengthened his hand against the wall. His throat was itching in pain and he turned to look at Dazai in shock and hurt.

"What was that??" he exclaimed, discontented, a little scared even. Dazai wasn't Dazai at the moment– eyes empty, countenance not reflecting anything at all for a moment before tears bloomed around his eyes and he broke down into Chuuya's chest, hunching his back to cover his tear stained face.

He tugged into Chuuya's clothes, sobs becoming louder, echoing into the room, into the dark night sky. Chuuya sucked in a heavy breath and tried to place a reassuring hand on Dazai's back as if what happened never happened– Because Chuuya adored Dazai.

Dazai looked at Chuuya tearfully, silently. The moment was loud and long. Almost lasting an eternity.

Oda.

He loved Oda.

He still did.

Maybe he shouldn't… But he still did, and it hurt.

He kissed Chuuya, and softly this time; that Chuuya found himself melting against his will.

"S-sorry…"

Dazai croaked out through the tears, Chuuya tenderly holding him in place, sympathetic frown on his lips.

"I-I'm sorry… Oda"

Chuuya's eyes widened and, at that moment, everything felt like it made sense.

He bit back the son that danced in the back of his throat. Maybe because Dazai was crying, or because he just didn't know anymore.

The three letters somehow hurt more than the hands around his neck… but he knew that he still adored Dazai.

#soukoku #bsd #angst #writing #dazai bsd #chuuya bsd #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #dazai x chuuya #oda sakunosuke

[pillowaya]

Implicit Confessions… To a Dense Lover?

Everyone knew the massive crush Reo Mikage had on Nagi Seishiro, except for Nagi Seishiro himself.

"Flowers?" Isagi exclaimed, as flustered as Nagi was supposed to be– Nagi who hummed carelessly, glued to his phone as almost every free period of the day. Silence reigned for a minute before Isagi gasped again, taking in every realization one by one.

"Red roses?" hands on his friend's shoulders, he shook him, over and over again in hopes to get the information into his thick skull. "And on Valentine's day??"

"What's with that? He's my best friend," Nagi fought to get his device back, voice calm and annoyed at the same time. There was something for sure; something that Nagi Mayhaps felt but never addressed to his own self. He chose to ignore anything that seemed like a drag, feelings included, and following that lifestyle the obvious attempts of confession from his so-called best friend ended up ignored and ran over. "Didn't Bachira give you roses as well?"

"Yeah, because Meguru is my boyfriend!" Isagi emphasized on the last word, raising his hand as high as possible and yet failing to separate the phone from its owner. Nagi could easily tower over him with his 6'3 height. "We give roses to those we love, Nagi"

"So no one loves me except for Reo? How rude" he commented, pressing back the play button in victory as he curled back down in the corner of the stairs. A window was wide open ahead and Isagi was pretty sure he would jump if he heard another insensitive word, being far from the situation himself but fantasizing how beautiful of a couple his friends would make.

"Love in that way, you know, ro-" he covered his mouth right away, already imagining Reo's passive aggressive smile. It was disrespectful to expose it as it is just yet, he only had to sprinkle around the gasoline for when it'll fuel. "Not any type of love- you get it"

"He doesn't" a sweet, sing-song voice chanted from behind and Isagi smiled right at the sound of it. "Hey, Yoichi-chan! Trying to celebrate valentine in another way?" Eyes crescent, Bachira continued, placing a kiss on Isagi's cheek and raising his hand for a high five with Nagi. "Sorry 'bout it, but I'll be taking him for the day! We have a date"

"Your date is telling me that Reo has feelings for me" Nagi carelessly mumbled, and as two pairs of eyes widened enough to swallow their owners in, the following shrunk the sparkles in them. "what does it mean, to have feelings for someone? I feel things for everyone and so does Reo, so it's normal, isn't it?"

Before Isagi could jump and Bachira could stop him, Nagi leaned his head on the wall and sighed. "What I feel for Reo is very weird sometimes, though"

Chigiri appeared from the shadows, long red hair trailing after him as he adjusted his braid. "Like what?"

Isagi wasn't surprised. At this point, seeing how painfully clear it is that Nagi loves Reo back the same but is too dense to notice it, "feeling" itself became a magic word and summoned them all around whenever one heard it. Nagi, in a little voice, hid a shade of shyness in his grey eyes and looked away. "Like… like I want to have him in my arms. Like I want to fight him, but not with fists, with those things that feel soft on your skin and leave a happy feeling in your heart"

"...So you want to kiss him?"

Nagi blankly stared at the wall.

"He wrote a note saying he wanted to kiss you"

"Did he?"

Isagi held his head between two hands and groaned loud enough for the white haired to hear him and wonder what it was about.

"He's hopeless!" he half whispered, half shouted to Chigiri who nodded along. "I reckon the moment I made eye contact with Meguru, he already knew that in my mind, we were married, living together and adopting a cat. He even knew it would be a Persian cat and I'd name it Fluffles!"

"You ended up naming it Fluffle without an s" noted Bachira.

"See, Meguru even remembers that! Why is Nagi so-" Isagi swallowed his next words once a mop of dark purple hair emerged from the staircase, a beautiful boy with hands in his pockets descending casually, taking off one airpod and wordlessly waving at the group of boys.

Lowering his sight, he smiled as he saw Nagi wave back and return to his game. He had villains to beat- are these villains more important than me? Reo thought for a second and laughed at how his IQ drops to 3 the moment he sees the particular white haired. "Nothing to say about my gift? Did you read the letter?"

Isagi's jaw dropped to the ground. When was Reo indirect, when was he strategic or shy- never, but not to this extent- he tugged on Bachira's sleeves and mouthed an "it's happening" before continuing to follow the scene with his blue eyes widened.

"I mean, yeah, I love you too" Nagi muttered, groaning in annoyance as he lost the level. It was unusual for him, himself, he could focus just the same on a game no matter what he was doing or who he was talking to, but Reo was different in some way. "It was so poetic, I'll give you that. Ten out of ten"

Reo facepalmed and breathed in and out to reformulate his sentence, hoping the other would try to understand. He can't be that dense, can he? "I know it was poetic and that was exactly the purpose, but what did you think of it? As in, emotion wise?"

Nagi groaned louder, tossing his phone away and standing up to face Reo.

Nagi.

Stopped a game.

Left his phone.

Stood up. To face someone.

To say the boys watching from the distance were amazed would be an understatement. They were astonished. Besides the fact that Nagi did seem to have things to say, the two boys totally ignored them even when Kunigami joined the mess; isolated in their own world.

"I don't get it" hand clutching the left part of his chest, Seishiro mumbled in both discomfort and desperation, flares of colors dancing into his empty eyes. "I don't like complications, I don't like being dragged around. So why… why do you keep doing that to me? Stop it, Reo"

"You could've said that since the beginning" Reo replied, bitterness in his tone, ripping the second airpod from his ear. "I'd gladly stop once you give me a proper answer. I thought everything would be alright if I continued expressing these feelings since you never understood them anyways, but I guess that too has to come to a halt, huh?"

"Reo, if you love me, just say it!"

Isagi, Bachira, Chigiri and Kunigami who were deeply immersed into the scene let out a collective grunt of disbelief at that.

"I said it, more than once! I showed it! I did everything to make you understand that I'm in love with you, idiot, idiot, idiot!" Reo, quite literally, snapped. Tears of frustration blooming around his violet orbs, he crashed a fist into the wall, covering his face with his sleeve. "I love you! I did and I'm ready to do anything to prove you that, yet you emotionally constipated dunce wouldn't even care!"

Nagi was, indeed, the most emotionally constipated dunce he himself had ever met.

But even he could realize true feelings when he saw them; and Reo's words sent butterflies wildly flying in his stomach, proving his point right then and there. Nagi was never good with words and he knew it, he knew what he would say next to the crying purple haired would either anger him or sadden him and furthermore worsen the situation. So he had to make an action, one that might be abrupt albeit one he desired to do since so long. He softly approached Reo, pulling his red, tear covered face closer and in a moment of total silence and anticipation, drawing him in for a kiss.

Isagi gasped dramatically, Bachira played a cheesy k-drama ost while Chigiri snapped a picture and Kunigami awed in a childish adoration unlike his usual serious self.

"I'm terrible with feelings, I'll give you that. But goddamn how absolutely painful it is to see you everyday" he sucked in a breath after they pulled apart, a line of saliva connecting their lips, Reo staring at him, bewildered, lovesick, as if he revived from the dead. "Not painful in the, uh, bad way. You know- that pang in your heart when you see someone? Something like that. However, love is a pain I wasn't sure I needed- so I ignored it, but now- I don't know, I don't think I can anymore"

"Idiot," Reo tsked, color sparkling on his cheeks. "You're a real idiot, Seishiro. It took you long enough. And you might not even say it properly- so repeat after me"

"After me"

Nagi sincerely repeated, and the boys in the distance facepalmed. Reo didn't seem to mind, nonetheless.

"I love"

Nagi swallowed his pride. "I love"

"You"

Reo smiled, the same adorable smile that made Nagi fall for him without realizing it.

"I love you"

A.N: just a little something I thought of writing because I'm kinda empty after finishing the chapters that are out until now of Blue Lock and I just found myself many cute ships- I mean look at Reo and Nagi- anyways I hope it's decent 😂😭

#Blue lock #Nagi x Reo #Boy x Boy #NagiReo #Oneshot

[pillowaya]

For now it's maths>=writing but it's still annoying that I want to write and either don't have time or do it while thinking of studying lol

[pillowaya]

Playing Cupid

"Illu," chanted Hisoka, shuffling his cards. The night view and the undying casino lights didn't seem to interest him as much as whatever he was about to say, Illumi figured and tilted his head in response. "Yeah?"

"You remember Gon, right? The kid who broke your arm in the hunter exam" He started, and Illumi huffed in disinterest. "The kid who went as far as training to pass the goddamn testing gate" he replied, gritting his teeth. "Just to get Kill away with him. You know I hate him"

Hisoka smiled, amusement playing on his lips. "That one, yes. I saw something very interesting this morning" 

As much as Illumi knew Hisoka yearned to fight Gon at his full power and as much as he respected it, he grunted. Annoyance sparked in his veins right at the image of Killua having so much fun with such a person, it was way too disgusting, he was a Zoldyck. And Zoldyck's have no business hanging around with anyone. "Hopefully a pleasant surprise. He died?"

Hisoka shook his index, sighing in dismay. "We went over this more than once, babe. If Gon ever dies, I'll be the one to kill him after a long, entertaining battle. But that's not about it. I saw him and Killua fighting"

Illumi raised an eyebrow. "It was the green bastard's fault, wasn't it?" 

"Even better," Hisoka giggled before mumbling in sly realization. "My bad, even worse, they both walked away with tears in their eyes. I don't think even you saw Killua cry before, am I right?"

Illumi smashed his cocktail on the counter with so much force it shattered, the cold liquid seeping slowly into the ground.

"I'll kill him. And if you try to stop me, I'll kill you. Off my way"

Hisoka's golden eyes hooded dangerously, a joker card between his pointed nails. "Careful now, babe. Your skull might as well be split into two before you try. Don't wanna fight me just yet, do you?"

Illumi, reeking bloodlust, held a needle at Hisoka's neck, eyes wide and emotionless. "What do you plan on doing with this information anyways?"

"Playing cupid for a day, I guess" he shrugged, pushing the needle away. "This assassin mode doesn't fit you. You look better with a resting bitch face"

The black haired sighed even louder this time. "Well surprise, I'm literally an assassin"

"Who kills people with a resting bitch face"

"I hate you"

Hisoka smiled. "I love you too"

"Now tell me your plan" Illumi flipped his hair and looked away, almost disappointed that he broke his drink. Hisoka, who ordered another Margherita just in case, placed it in front of Illumi and proceeded with his speech. "I'll just try to help them make up though they both hate me. Killua is an irreplaceable factor in Gon's growth and a potential future enemy; therefore I don't want them to lose their relationship just yet"

---

It wasn't a fight.

It was more of an argument– That, well, could've led to a fight.

It was one of the first times Killua walked alone, clueless, with no direction to go. He had to clear his mind first. He loved Gon, gosh he loved him so much. But, no matter how much he tried to overlook it, the other was selfish at times.

They were both kids, yet, while Gon had his own ambition to follow, Killua had none. Gon would sacrifice anything to reach his dream and Killua would sacrifice anything to reach Gon who seemed to drift away day by day. And that hurt. It didn't feel like a relationship, nor like a friendship, it just hurt.

He forgot how it started, the only part he remembered was when he shouted that he was tired of it, tired of Gon throwing himself to whatever situation that can destroy him while he cleans his mess everytime. A way more emotional, frustrated, and wrong way to ask him if he was okay, if he needed assistance, if he possibly could share more of what's going on in his mind.

Gon defended himself in his own way. To him, if Killua was done, then he could just walk away and leave him be. If his actions annoyed him this much, then he could just find another friend. That was Gon's way of telling Killua to worry less about things but it sounded like a rejection, since Gon was supposed to know Killua didn't have any friends other than him.

It was a shared mistake, a lack of communication. Killua climbed a tree and decided to sleep there, now too tired to think of anything at all. He didn't know if they'd make up. He was way too petty to apologize and so was Gon.

"Yo, Kill" 

In less than a second, he jolted from his seat, more than ready to murder. Nails at the stranger's neck, it took him a short moment to realize it was a familiar red haired joker, traced under the moonlight. "Calm down, I'm all good intentions for now"

"Why are you here?" snapped Killua, taking a safe distance. "And don't call me Kill. I absolutely hate that nickname"

"Alrighty" Chuckled Hisoka, bending to mumble in Killua's ear. "I have a message from Gon. He told you to meet him at the city center, Peijin hotel at 2 am. You know, he didn't want to tell you himself because remember, you guys are mad at each other"

Killua squinted his eyes in suspicion. "So he told you?" glaring daggers at Hisoka, he continued, confused. "You, out of everyone?"

Hisoka didn't elaborate and disappeared between the trees.

"Maybe I have to go," Contemplated Killua, eying his phone. 1:30 am. "Maybe it's a chance to make this up. That idiot can't even wait until the next day, can he?"

It reached 2 am sooner than he thought, sitting on a bench as people tirelessly walked in and out of the hotel. It took a minute before a familiar dark haired boy appeared in the back of the crowd. Killua's chest tightened in an unknown, painful feeling.

He cleared his throat as Gon sat wordlessly next to him. He tried to peek at his face, there was no visible emotion on it. His large brown eyes were clear and staring right ahead, both his hands curled up on his knees. "Why did you want to meet me, Killua?"

"Huh? Weren't you the one who wanted to meet me?" he slowly acknowledged the trap they fell in, gritting his teeth at the realization that Hisoka made it- he shouldn't have believed him in the first place, but the name of Gon alone made him fall off guard. "Haaaah? Damned Hisoka! I'm leaving!" in a slightly panicked tone, he stood up and attempted to leave, until a familiar soft voice spoke from behind him.

"After thinking of your words thoroughly," Gon sniffed, his voice holding more and more emotions than before. "I think I'm indeed selfish. I must indeed tell you more about my goals from things and how I plan to do them"

Killua's lips parted in shock.

Gon was the most stubborn, the most petty person he knew.

Gon, admitting a fault, instead of denying it, instead of acting like he never did anything. Killua was really shocked.

"I was in the wrong, Killua" Gon smiled innocently, staring at his boots, as if the ground was the most interesting thing in the world. It took courage to raise his head, to look at Killua's beautiful blue eyes without breaking down. For a reason? For no reason? He himself didn't know, he just knew that he made a mistake and had to fix it. "I promise to be better for you, Killua, because I love you"

"Don't say things like these, idiot" Mumbled Killua, looking away to hide his red face. "It's embarrassing"

"I think that means you appreciate what I say," Gon smiled wider. He knew Killua very well. He knew that his cheeks were flushed and his lips were pouty like everytime he accidentally said something too affectionate, and he continued, joy brightening within him. "I can't stay mad at you forever, and I believe you can't, too. Maybe we should talk about it better next time"

A hand pushed his head up, his eyes directly facing deep blue ones. Killua leaned down to plant a soft kiss on his lips and walked away right after.

"I think this resumes it for now, Gon" he replied nonchalantly, his hands in his pockets yet again as if nothing happened. "Have you ever stayed in this hotel before? Or should we search for a better one? It looks like it's about to rain"

Gon, the tips of his ears in dark pink, grinning shyly, shook his head. "Never tried this one, but there's a better one few blocks away from here"

"Let's go then" Killua hid a small smile, and the two boys walked side by side.

"See? It actually worked" Hisoka gasped, dramatically. "I didn't even make a complexe plan"

Illumi rolled his eyes to heaven. 

"It's about to rain for real. Let's get a hotel room too" he suggested, gracefully jumping off the rooftop they spied on the boys from. "I'll just act like I didn't see anything. Do you have any money on you?"

"I pickpocketed this from an old man earlier. I think it's enough for both of us" Hisoka sighed, playing with a wallet on his finger. "Remind me why I'm married to someone who won't even appreciate my effort to make his little brother happy"

"Thank you" Illumi muttered under his breath.

"What did you say?" Teased Hisoka, jumping after his husband. "I didn't hear you~"

"Shut up"

#Hunter x hunter #hxh #Gon #Killua #Gon x Killua #Killugon #Illumi x Hisoka

[pillowaya]

Rainy Day, Rainy Mission, And a Boy In Love

The thick presence of rain soaked him.

A world so grey, he felt the fog slip inside his veins. It wasn't unexpected, yet he, focused on the mission assigned to him, only managed to admire the dark clouds with pent up frustration sizzling in his eyes, no means to shelter himself available.

Standing wordlessly amid the cold droplets for a long moment, he turned his heels and walked away.

He hated rain.

Its mere existence around him cried out a bad omen, formed a nightmare. Something about the raging sky made him shudder, made his insides ache and his fists clench. Clutching his bloodied shoulder, he cursed under his breath and continued on his way. He had to get something out of this - it was unfair, wounded and left a prey to this cruel entity of a weather - a pair of gentle green eyes crossed his mind and vision at the same time.

"Kacchan, there you are!" exclaimed a green haired boy, almost as battered as he is yet softly rushing to his side. "I was looking for you. Let's go back. Is your shoulder okay?"

Kacchan.

What a stupid, annoying nickname. But he, for no particular reason, adored it. Adored how it rolled off his darling's tongue, how it shone luminescence so bright it broke through the rain. It was a shameful childhood memory for him and an even more painful one for his darling; however, at some point, they both ignored it.

Katsuki grunted. Did he really deserve such forgiveness?

But did it matter? It was done and over. He berated his past self whose jealousy and idiocy blinded. Mayhaps he still uttered a nickname he once made out of mockery and hatred towards the green haired, nonetheless both of them knew it was nothing but habit now. 'Deku', it meant useless, and it hurt to know he wasn't the one to change its meaning. It was an extra, a brunette who dared to like his lover boy.

He deserved it, probably. He deserved missing the chance to correct his wrong doing.

"What happened, Deku?" He then asked nonchalantly, holding Izuku's extended hand. One glance was enough to figure the teen wasn't in his best physical state, two fingers broken, his neck bloody and his hero costume torn from the collar. "Why didn't you ask for my help when it got hard for you?"

"Oh, this," Mumbled Izuku with a tired smile, as if finally checking his own state. Selflessness seemed to be a curse just as much as a blessing. "Nothing much. That villain was just a stubborn one, you know"

The blond shook his head at the response. "I still would've been a help to you"

Izuku sighed. "Maybe I'll accept your help when you accept mine"

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. It thundered louder, rain wanted to make itself known. "Over my dead body. Hell, don't even approach my dead body, just let it rot"

Izuku giggled. "You're as prideful as I ever knew you, Kacchan"

"Whether that's a compliment or an, I don't know, insult, make sure to get that treated" Katsuki mumbled incoherently, looking away. His emotions demanded sweet release, either if he gave in or not, and it angered him anyways. He wasn't one to express worry- was he even worried? He pushed his mental battle to the back of his head. "Uhm... I- I mean, yes, you won't.. Uh.. You won't work at your best with these injuries! I- it's not like I care or anything"

Izuku looked at him longly with his beautiful, starry forest eyes. Cheeks dusted pink, lips slightly parted, trapped in a daydream. Katsuki's heart raced violently in his chest– how could someone be so enticing? It confused him, he couldn't bring himself to lift his gaze from the ground.

Green was the prettiest color.

The cold finally reached his lungs, he sneezed. It took him a while to remember that he was standing in the rain, to remember he loathed rain. Everything was insignificant compared to his darling. Everything was forgettable. "Do you remember where the road to UA was? The fog is blocking my vision"

"Straight ahead. Just follow me" Izuku, already dragging him along, replied warmly. With one free hand, he pulled his partly torn All Might scarf and handed it to him. "Don't catch a cold, Kacchan"

Katsuki, knowing how futile it would be not to accept Izuku's scarf, embraced it and into the warm cloth hid a lovestruck smile.

It was one of the very few times he didn't mind someone being ahead of him.

#My hero academia #Mha #Boku no hero academia #Bnha #Midoriya Izuku #Deku #Bakugo Katsuki #Bakugo #Bakugo x Midoriya #Bakudeku

[pillowaya]

Under The Rain

As the dark blue sky thundered, Chuuya grit his teeth, uneven red marks slowly washing off of his skin. wrath of Gods, melancholy of angels, it didn't matter anymore, the clouds that cried along with him, the orange sunset that faded for his own grief.

The only thing that mattered; was that, under this rain, he became a murderer.

He always was. But bound to a huge mafia, souls were just as fleeting as butterflies and flower petals. Names in italic bold placed atop his desk everyday, blood staining his favorite suits, humans begging for forgiveness every time a bullet pierces through them.

He always was. It was rather funny, that at this cursed moment, he grieved from the bottom of his heart for the first and last time. Lowering his head as tears cascaded aggressively down his cheeks, he and the rain became one, sorrowful, never-ending, insipid.

He always was a murderer. The stench of death followed him everywhere, he ruined lives instead of saving them, and buried more corpses than he could count. Yet, this history of darkness, crimson and vengeance soon became insignificant since he, for once, felt like he had killed someone he actually cared about.

It was out of his control. Corruption roared and devoured everything in its way, and someone had to stop him, a specific someone. He then realized that it was probably not his fault, but he wasn't sure, not in the least, his memory was hazy and his mind was scattered all over the place.

He had to go all out against an enemy and acknowledged that the damage would be collateral yet agreed to risk it. The entirety of Yokohama was in danger. Right, he had little to no morals but he believed in the obligation to protect his and his organization's home city. Once activated, he was no longer himself, no longer human. And ironically enough, it was the one and only no longer human that could restrain his unleashed madness.

He, ignoring his own shattered bones and ruptured organs, frantically searched for Dazai once he saw that the place was in shambles. His wounds were treatable, but Dazai's, most likely, weren't. Since he was the one to fix the situation, he was somewhere around, and he was way more broken than him. Somewhere, he had to be somewhere.

And he was, indeed, somewhere.

Blood froze in his veins at the horrid sight. Dazai, or, his lower body, was crushed underneath a ridiculously huge rubble that was once a building. Chuuya hesitated to advance and investigate. He feared calling Dazai's name and receiving no response; he feared only his echo would reply back at him.

Dazai's face, itself, was disfigured, swollen to double its size, blood under his eye, nose, and mouth. It was painful enough that his once beautiful light brown eyes were open yet dim and lifeless. Chuuya slowly attempted to lift the heavy rocks first, with the conviction that Dazai was somehow still alive, yet the false hope fled as the first rock rolled away.

His legs weren't only crushed.

They were far, far away from his upper body.

Chuuya's jaw dropped. Dazai was, literally, split into two.

Logically, there was no way he was still alive. But Chuuya had to go through the five stages of grief one by one before getting lost between them. He trembled, the rain droplets growing heavier, and he rolled away another rock. There was nothing left of Dazai's legs, humans can live without those, he didn't give it much thought. He just wanted the brunet to snap awake and tease him about his unusual anxiety at the moment, with that soft, delicate smile of his. Why did it take him so long to figure out that it was adorable? Why didn't he cherish it when he had it everywhere around him?

There was some doctor in the agency, he vaguely remembered a female with dark, short hair and purple eyes. She had the ability to revive anyone who's half dead. The devil in his mind pushed him back to reality, Dazai was half a body, not half dead. He strongly opposed it. There was still a chance. As long as he was breathing…

Oh.

He wasn't breathing.

Yes, Chuuya was stupid. How did he expect a corpse to breathe?

Dazai wasn't a corpse.

The devil nudged at the bottom of his mind once again.

Shut it.

Shut what?

Your undesired reality, Chuuya mumbled weakly.

You killed him.

You can't save him anymore.

Give up, Chuuya Nakahara.

The rain embraced his body, and he curled up, sobbing as hard as he could, not hearing himself nonetheless. Dazai has always wanted to die. He had tried to end his life over a hundred times, in over a hundred ways, but he never succeeded. Chuuya wondered for a moment if Dazai enjoyed this death.

Dazai didn't enjoy pain, and didn't die with a smile. It was highly unlikely he enjoyed it. He died terribly, to save Chuuya, to touch him one last time before his body shut off.

Hopefully, he's enjoying it somewhere else. Where he always wanted to go.

Chuuya didn't know where, but he smiled under his breath.

Wait for me. It won't be long until I join you, Osamu Dazai.

#soukoku #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #Bsd #Bungou stray dogs #Dazai x Chuuya #Angst

[pillowaya]

Player 67, Eliminated.

His muscles spasmed uncontrollably as he covered his face with his two hands to refrain from sobbing. Hiccuping between every cry, Chifuyu aggressively wiped his watery eyes and hid his head into his knees, quieting down although he desired to scream on top of his lungs. 

The warmth rising from his tightened chest to his cheeks did no good to the stream of tears he held back. Everything felt against him. In reality, it was against him. What has he been doing all this time? Where did he go wrong in life? Why, why him? 

The venomous contemplation would've torn through his detached sanity until the very last shred; if it wasn't for a certain pair of muscled arms wrapping around him, embracing his shaky body, traveling from his sides to his upper back to engulf him whole. He reacted unwillingly to it, relaxing out of his fœtus position, returning the hug. 

"K-Keisuke…" he croaked out the name of his lover boy, voice muffled into the tissue of his green jacket. Keisuke pulled away, caressing Chifuyu's cheek ever so gently, and Chifuyu could swear the heftiness weighing down his shoulders eased at once before that tender smile.

Because when Keisuke smiled, his eyes smiled along. An otherworldly, bronze pair of eyes, traced so carefully as if delineated with Kohl, as if concealing all the secrets of alchemy within their golden spark. 

"It'll be okay," Keisuke mumbled, his confidence not fading in the slightest. He was a very prideful man, refusing to reveal fright, affliction, and languish, but Chifuyu could effortlessly read them all through him. "We survived three rounds. We'll survive the fourth" 

"How can you be so sure?" Chifuyu leaned on the white wall. They had a few minutes before their next game, precious minutes to profit off into strategy building and possibility management. That was why Chifuyu blamed himself for breaking down, yet Keisuke didn't seem to have any problem with it. Practically speaking, they had no idea what they were going to play, so it didn't deserve the hard work yet. 

"Because I believe in you" Keisuke kissed his temple. "I believe that if I die, it'll be you who survives. And you better" 

Chifuyu felt a cold, salty drop roll over his cheek. "You won't die, Kei" he hiccuped once again. "Don't say such things" 

Yes. The game they were in… 

Was a game of death. 

Matsuno Chifuyu and Baji Keisuke would've known better than to trust a man in a suit inviting them to a gambling game, better than to believe he would only slap them instead of demanding the 100000 yen they bet on. Better than to call the number on the card he gave them, unbeknownst to them that the following thing they would bet on is their entire lives. 

But they were desperate. 

Threatened to be kicked out of their apartment by the end of the week if they don't pay the rent, drowning in stacked debt of years and years before. At a point, they would have chosen between paying up with money or with organs, or at best, spend the rest of their lives running away. It wasn't their mistake that their bike shop wasn't a success, that no part time job covered all the sum. It wasn't their mistake that to be rich, you have to work, and to work, you have to study, and to study, you have to be rich. 

Chifuyu swallowed his lingering cries. He was tired of eating rice, watery porridge and instant noodles he believed were made of plastic. It was his failure that led him to wonder why he didn't build a life beforehand, when he was still a teen, enjoying biker gang fights and bleaching his hair every time his black roots grew back. 

To live a difficult life, and to die a difficult death. What crime has he committed in his past life? 

"Please enter the game platform with your partner" the extremely formal speaker broke their peace, in an annoying, machinal voice. "Today's game is marbles and it shall begin now" 

Marbles? 

Right. The game's motto was that 45,6 billion yen was just child's play. Literally child's play. 

He wrapped his hand around Keisuke's and followed the players into the huge garage-like green door. Once his sight extended over the scenery, he slightly gasped. It appeared like the suburbs of a usually big and busy city, peaceful houses, stairs and fences. He crossed his fingers and hoped it would be a game just as peaceful–

" 'Marbles' consists of any game of marbles you used to play as a child, the partners can agree on any rules for any marbles game. One of them wins, the other gets eliminated. The time limit is half an hour. Good luck" 

…And his world fell apart. 

He would've fallen apart as well if Keisuke didn't press on his hand lightly, a sign between them to reassure him that it will be fine nonetheless. 

"If one of us has to die, then it'll be better to take it slow. Let's spend our last moments with each other. Half an hour is enough" he smiled to hide the melancholy coiling at his guts, to continue acting as strong as he always was. It would do no good for them both to kneel and weep, it wouldn't change the way this game was fated to end.

Destinies were already intertwined. 

And Keisuke has already decided that he will die. 

Chifuyu stared at his lover with his large green eyes. He dreaded how Keisuke never admitted that it wasn't fine. That he wasn't fine, that he was shattering from the inside, that he was drowning and burning at the same time. He dreaded how Keisuke had the habit of taking the deadliest hit and standing still on two feet to announce he was fine even if he was coughing blood. Fine, fine, fine, he simply dreaded that word by now. 

Yet he had no choice but to nod and shakily claim a seat by the staircase. 

"Do you remember the first time we met?" A deep voice he loved so much filled his ears. "You thought I was a nerd. Well, I acted to be- and honestly, I had to be- but it was funny" 

He groaned in response, defending his first judgment. "The glasses were so lame!" 

"Mikey thought they'd make me look smarter" Keisuke relaxed on the wall, noticing he didn't feel like he leaned on anything, and assumed it was just as fake as the whole scenery. "He probably no longer goes by Mikey… it's been a while. Wasn't it in our first meeting too that I beat those kids who ganged up on you?" 

"Yes. I have to admit it, the moment you untied your hair and it gracefully floated along the wind as you punched the life out of them, I knew I was in for some deep shit" Chifuyu smiled. Keisuke melted at that, poking his nose. "The moment I saw your soft green eyes, I knew I was already in the deep shit" 

An extended moment of quietude resonated, interrupted every now and then by the sound of a gunshot and a player's elimination.

"I think we should play," Keisuke mumbled. "How about we make it simple? We throw the marble, and whose marble comes closer to the wall wins" 

Chifuyu, lost in a daydream, staring at distant horizons without feeling like he saw them at all, agreed in a weak hum, and protested even weaker. "If you were to die, I'd rather wait for the predetermined time period to end so I could die with you" 

"No" Keisuke hopped on his feet, picking only two marbles out of the two perfectly full rucksacks. "That would be a waste. One death is more than enough. You go first" 

Chifuyu breathed in and out a couple of times, his fingertips trembling non-stop. He made a clumsy throw, still landing a few centimeters away from the wall. No signs of joy colored his features. 

"You better make it reach the wall" he patted his boyfriend's shoulder, who then advanced hesitantly. 

And, with a remorseful smile, allowed the marble to drop right by his feet. 

"I'm sorry, Chifuyu" he giggled through a cry, "This- This irony of a destiny that we're in; it's an uncompleted story that whichever of us makes it out alive should tell. I- c-can't let you die just yet" 

"Y-you…" Chifuyu gasped, clutching his fists, vigorously gripping on Keisuke's clothes and pushing him to the wall. "A-ARE YOU CRAZY?" He desperately cried. "THROW IT AGAIN!" 

"I'll l-leave it to you, b-but if you die- later on- w-we'll meet in heaven, yeah? I'll r-recognize you anywhere" the tears blooming around his eyes finally flowed on his cheeks, refusing to say that he was afraid of death, that he wished both of them won. He had so much to say and so little time. Albeit pronouncing truths in a death sentence made no sense, so he sealed them within as he made a promise. "I'll a-always love you, and never stop l-loving you, Chifuyu" 

Chifuyu let out a broken scream. The guard in red violently separated him from his lover, aiming his gun right to his head.

"Chifuyu!" Keisuke used up his very last energy to draw the other's attention, his eyes reflecting the pained heart bleeding all over his chest, he took no time choosing his last words for the gun was already shoved too deep into his head. "Thank you… for loving me" 

A loud gunshot echoed. 

"Play 67, eliminated" 

#Tokyo revengers #Squid game #Chifuyu x Baji #Bajifuyu #Matsuno Chifuyu #Baji Keisuke

[pillowaya]

A Bsd Oneshot no one asked for

The sun shone brightly over the grass field, sending merciless waves of heat, announcing summer. It didn't seem to bother the boys sitting right underneath it, uncovered, busy chatting and reading. They all wore sporty fits, ready to play once again, as they all knew each other from the university's basketball club. The only difference was that, what served as a courtyard in their summer meetings, was a simple gravel ground, traced with chalk and equipped with hoops.

"The finals were so goddamn hard!" whined a grey haired, about to cry, his eyes reflecting the sun rays through their yellow-purple orbs. "I can't believe I was this close to failing my first year of uni. And summer vacation is only six weeks long!"

"Atsushi" Sighed a black haired, busy devouring a book of some sort. "We all went through this. Now quit whining and let me read"

Atsushi swallowed a tearful gulp. "And most importantly, this dude is my roommate! The pain is unimaginable"

"You're still first years," commented Dazai with a slightly evil smile. "You have so much more to go through. Just hit me up if you want to commit suicide-"

He abruptly shut up as a certain ginger slapped him upside down the head. Nonetheless, he proceeded to eye the ginger with love eyes. Smitten would be an understatement. "Even your smacks are heavenly, Chuuya~"

"Shut it" Chuuya hissed. "Although I, unfortunately, have to agree with this bastard that there's way more atrocious suffering to come"

"It's all because you were stupid enough to pick engineering" Fyodor, after fake clapping for the abuse he witnessed, chanted in relaxation. "Literature is so, so much better. And so much more comfortable"

Nikolai, who has been sitting on his lap for God knows how long, nodded in agreement.

"That, if you're able to write a five page essay over a rat yearning to find cheese-" Atsushi objected, and corrected himself once Fyodor shook his finger. "Oh, I mean, a seven page essay over a rat"

"You make it sound easier than crying yourself to sleep because you couldn't understand how a machine works"

"Now that's a personal attack!" Before Atsushi could return to his most desired rant session, Akutagawa stomped on his foot on purpose - a sign to warn him that if he doesn't lower his voice, he will sleep on the couch tonight - and he quickly calmed his tone. "I'm pretty sensitive!"

"Didn't we come here to play basketball?"

Asked Ranpo, taking a blue lollipop out of his mouth. He turned to look at the brunet who hid behind his chair. "Poe said that he wants to play with us today"

"No I didn't! I'm n-not ready yet..." Poe denied, a shriveled brown hair strand shaking from behind the piece of furniture.

"Yes, we sure did come to play" the captain, Fukuzawa, stood up and stretched his muscles in enthusiasm.

Dazai was tired. Yet he still wanted to play, because they might not meet like this again for the rest of the holiday. And he really wanted to see Chuuya. The ginger never failed to cause a strange sensation in his chest, as if speaking, moving, and feeling became harder, as if he took control over all of his hormones at once. He was no longer a teenager to have such raging hormones, but whenever he saw, whenever he felt Chuuya around him, his whole heart bumped, his whole body shivered.

It was annoying and pleasant at once. He still couldn't decipher why.

So he, with his massive IQ, made a stupid incomplete plan to ask Chuuya out by the end of the summer. He didn't develop it yet enough to add means or occasions for that. For now, he would just observe from afar and go with the flow. This move itself was unlike him, who planned and predicted every single step of the path he chose to follow.

Or so he thought, until a soothing voice tore the fuzziness in his mind–

"How about we make it… interesting?" Fyodor wrapped his arms around Nikolai, and with a malicious smile, continued his speech under eight pairs of eyes piercing through him. "We play in teams, but every player's points are counted individually. And in the end, the loser is dared to ask the winner out and date him for the rest of the vacation"

It was safe to say that Fyodor impregnated the field with silence for a long, long moment.

"That actually sounds fun" Chuuya stood up, cracking his knuckles, to which Dazai facepalmed because it always made it seem like he was preparing to fight rather than play a sport. The information passed over his mind and reached deaf ears before he finally awoke himself enough to analyse it, and then choked on his own saliva.

"I'm perfectly ready right now!" the ginger smiled wide enough to show his teeth, taking off his jacket, revealing his toned biceps and slender waist.

Dazai choked harder.

"Uhm, Dazai is dying-" Atsushi mumbled softly before Chuuya retorted. "This isn't about him"

Akutagawa held in his laughter.

Fukuzawa, Ranpo, Akutagawa and Nikolai all agreed after that, accepting the challenge. Fyodor chuckled. "Just to let you guys know, I won't lose. But Nikolai will"

Nikolai, who was almost automatically nodding to whatever Fyodor said, suddenly sat up and glared at him in both shock and rage. "What?"

"I don't make the rules, darling" he answered, unphased, to which Nikolai lifted his arms in the sky as if asking the gods to replenish his sanity. "You literally just made the rules!"

"Now now, let's play, everyone!" Fukuzawa, once he mentally calculated who wanted to play, called everyone into the court, rolling the ball on the tip of his finger. "We'll play four on four in our usual teams. Poe said he isn't ready to join yet, so he offered to write down the points. First team is: me, Chuuya, Ranpo and Atsushi, second team is Dazai, Fyodor, Nikolai, and Akutagawa"

Dazai let out a sound of confusion at that. "But I usually play with Chuuya on the same team!"

"Not this time" Dazai never realized the captain also had a teasing side of him until he saw his petty smile at the moment, and he facepalmed once again. His initial plan was for Chuuya to win and him to lose so he could ask Chuuya out without it seeming like his personal desire, and it would've been so much easier if Chuuya was with him in the same team, because then, he would pass him the ball without seeming suspicious.

He sighed in disbelief and decided to make the best out of it. For now, even if Chuuya doesn't win, he would make his attempt clear, and prepare a route for his upcoming confession. He breathed in and out. "Okay then"

Because, nonetheless, he would still do his best to make Chuuya win. He didn't have to worry about himself, for it was very easy to make himself loose. And even make it look accidental.

The game advanced in a blur. The ball ran tirelessly from hand to hand, and they melted under the sun, still not giving up over it. Every time it entered a hoop, they would all cheer and laugh, careless of who marked it, careless of their both personal and team related points.

"Why didn't you catch it, damn mackerel!" Dazai panted and placed his hands over his knees as he scolded Chuuya. "I sent it right to you!"

Chuuya scolded him back right away. "Maybe because I'm not in your team, and I don't want to ruin my beautiful face for a basketball match! You do realize how strong your serves are, right? Please tell me you do realize you can behead someone with that flying, flaming ball you throw"

"That's because I'm a professional!" Dazai felt his cheek getting pulled at that argument. "Professional my ass!!"

"Dazai! Catch!" Dazai heard Fyodor calling him and growled in exhaustion before receiving the ball. He dribbled it and shot it right inside the hoop.

"Is this unprofessional to you?" He asked rhetorically. "You better play well next time, mackerel"

"Alright, everyone, time over!" Ranpo cheerfully announced as Poe whispered in his ear the news. Half an hour passed so quickly that they barely noticed it, except for Atsushi who appeared on the brink of death, Akutagawa shoving a water bottle in his mouth and wrapping a towel around his neck. It was his way of caring.

Dazai fiddled with his fingers waiting for the results. He felt his heart thump loudly in his ribcage. It was so hard to focus, not only for him, but for the whole group of boys who were obviously not so heterosexual for each other. Fyodor had bright confidence in his eyes, very sure, for some reason, that he would win. It was dimmed right then and there-

"The winner is… Dazai!"

Dazai whipped his head up, eyes as wide as saucers.

What? Hasn't he played with the intention to lose?

"And our fabulous loser is… Chuuya!"

What?? Hasn't he helped him to win?

Chuuya let out the loudest "huh?" sound ever, his cheeks bursting pink. He then turned to look at Dazai who was now, pretty literally, dying on the floor. He managed to choke out, between laughter and hyperventilation. "I can't believe you're that terrible at basketball, Chuuya"

Never in a hundred years Dazai thought Chuuya would be shyly asking him out, yet there he was, the ginger gesticulating in obvious embarrassment and adding every now and then that it's obliged. Never in a hundred years he thought he would hold him between his arms with no form of retaliation, promising himself to make him fall truly for him in the time they'll have together from now on.

Needless to say, it was a beautiful summer.

#Bsd #Bungou stray dogs #Soukoku #Shin soukoku #Dazai x Chuuya

[pillowaya]

Look At Me With Those Eyes 

Takemichi could nearly feel Manjiro's, Mikey's, dark eyes cut through him. So sharp, so unoccupied, even staring at them hurt, even staring at them suffocated him. And he had to remind himself that 12 years has passed through the handshake - that the cheerful Mikey he had greeted with a kiss yesterday isn't the same he is now greeting with a tear lingering on his lashes. 

"Kill me" 

Mikey ordered coldly, unweariedly, relaxing on the pile of ruins the building has once left over. Takemichi mumbled about how he just wanted to see him, to meet him, how he missed him and how he has definitely not changed - he seemed skeptical about the last part - and he, upon hearing the rather expected words, traced his usual emotionless smile. 

Mikey was indeed emotionless. Within him, winds roared, their gale disappeared and an inhabited realm reigned since then. People believed in the calm before the storm, yet he, certainly, was the calm after the storm. From the way he spoke about how he killed all his friends for over a decade now, grinning at how Hakkai's stupid death wish was to hang out with him again, Takemichi's blood boiled in his veins. 

"You're wrong!" he grit through his teeth without rehearsing a proper way to express his frustration, vigorously shaking his - past - lover's shoulders as if to snap him back into reality, spitting out more of his discontent, more of his futile denial. "You haven't changed! The mikey I know can't kill his own friends… You can't change that much, Mikey!!!" 

Albeit what came as a response to his outbreak was a strong kick pushing him to the ground and a perfectly full gun pointed at his cheek. At least the boy was no longer displaying a sickening lack of sensitivity, he thought, but the only feeling he emitted was rage. 

"What part of this do you not understand, Takemichi? If you don't kill me right now, I won't hesitate to kill you instead!" 

Takemichi, rang the name so unusual to hear with Mikey's tranquil voice, so dry, so orphaned. For sure, their hair strands were no longer blonde. The bleach washed away into an original shiny black. Canary world of an ardent teenhood dimmed into pitch darkness, so did Mikey, so did his sanity. 

"Chifuyu told me before he died… that when I see you again, your aquamarine eyes will observe into me with the omniscience of a god, as if you've traveled in time, as if you lived the past and the future altogether…" Mikey could no longer hold his demeanor, stray tears stubbornly blooming, breaking through the shut gates of destiny and the threads sewing his dark, dark orbs into sorrow and cruelty at once. He desperately cried out, the gun shaking in his grip. "Why don't you look like that? Why do you look so pained and nostalgic instead? Look at me with those eyes, Takemichi!" 

And suddenly, into the heavy quietude, 

A gunshot rang. 

A corpse fell limply over Takemichi. 

Takemichi, who was now screaming in horror, soaked in the blood of someone he fought his hardest to protect. He couldn't register what happened, looking around in terror, limbs going numb for an instant. He barely spotted Naoto in the distance with a gun in his hands, no, more like only noticed him when the latter loudly asked if he was okay. 

Was he okay? He didn't think so. Sobbing as he begged Naoto to bring him back to the past again, clutching his hand into a trembling handshake, tears now washing his face. He knew that he couldn't do anything but cry and get beaten up, he knew that he was nothing but a crybaby, but he always dared to promise himself and his dearests that he will fight until he gets to the best future, until he assures their wellbeing. 

Was he okay? 

The strike of lightning brought him back to where he was, to where he belonged; and there he was in Mikey's longing arms, deeply wrapped in his scent. His tears didn't cease whatsoever, for a reason he couldn't tell to the oblivious yet heaved boy before him. 

But his lover was there, his lover was alive, his heart beating into the prettiest melody. He relaxed, clinging closer to him. Mikey smiled, warmly this time, amply warm it melted the fog of memories – memoirs of the future, he realized, he was living in the real set of memories that he had to change, and that didn't matter anyways. He would live in a reverie even, if it was to be with his lover. 

"Your eyes are so stunning, Takemitchy" Confessed Mikey out of the blue, planting a short kiss on Takemichi's lips, and oh god how much he missed that, how much he missed that specific Takemitchy rolling off the other's tongue. "Eyes very azure and starry they would erase all of my uncontrollable impulses, very pure they would win over blue oceans extended to infinity… Please look at me with those eyes, Takemitchy. Please scold me like my big brother would've done if I committed something terrible"

Takemichi softened. He caressed his boyfriend's delicate cheek gently, fighting his tears once again. 

 "I will always do that, Mikey. I.. I s-swear" 

#Tokyo revengers #Takemichi #Mikey #Hanagaki Takemichi #Sano Manjiro #Takemichi x Mikey #Boy x boy

[pillowaya]

Euthanasia 

"But it's murder" 

Chuuya grunted aggressively, collecting what he could collect of himself. The man in white turned in response, adjusting his facemask. 

"If anything, it's going to be suicide. I can't help you in any way, sir" the man muttered apologetically. Chuuya pierced his fist into the wall, cursing under his breath, cursing any god he knew the name of. He wanted to snap the doctor back to reality. To remind him a compassionate tone was of no use when he was to have blood on his hands anytime sooner for something he could change. What would he do with that compassion, anyways? It definitely won't change the future, it definitely won't pull him out of this pathetic situation. 

"Do you really consider yourself a doctor, attempting to do this?" he desperately argumented, preventing stray tears from rolling on his cheeks. "It surely isn't allowed!" 

"It's legal, sir-" the doctor couldn't finish his sentence as a rough objection interrupted him. "Legal doesn't mean moral!" and Chuuya threw another punch at the wall, a new set of pained curses echoing through the waiting room. 

At the sight of the heavily broken boy, the man, despite conspicuously hating to discuss the subject, spoke once again. 

"You should convince him, not me," he pointed at the light blue door on the other side of the hallway. "You're running out of time, sir. Proving me wrong won't change the outcome. But proving him wrong probably would" 

Chuuya inhaled. 

He despised that room, with every fiber of his being. 

He visited it amply to consider it a second home, yet, if he had the ability to, he would burn every piece of furniture and every fabric in the goddamned room down. 

He always had the same feeling, stepping in. The tiles were uncreative and white, except for three patterned ones at the entrance. The door had an unimportant square of glass at the top left part. He acknowledged every single element he would meet as he walks into the limited space ahead. A blue bed, an IV stick, a heart monitor, a couch, a table, a TV, and a wheelchair. 

He had added some little nothings here and there to embellish the bland place, but it didn't drastically decrease the hostility of it. Yes, he always had the same feeling, stepping in, the exact same feeling. That he wasn't supposed to be there. That his lover was never supposed to be there. Disdain, childish frustration. 

The door was pushed open with a creak, a familiar scene ahead. A brunette dreamily gazing at the prohibited world beyond shut windows, hiding in the blue covers. It didn't take him a second to find out the identity of the visitor, turning around, a delicate smile painting his exhausted features. "Yo, Chuuya" 

"Don't 'yo' me when you're legitimately planning your death. A real, organized suicide this time" Chuuya could only hope his black bags weren't as visible as he saw them in the mirror. "You know there are still chances to heal, Dazai. How about you stay alive and figure it out somehow?" 

Dazai's smile fell, shattered, the impact harder than what he calculated it would be. It was at these moments that his predictions and calculations betrayed him, leaving him with no shield other than an unhealthy coping mechanism. He gulped down the bitterness in his throat. 

"Chances?" he mumbled as if he heard the word for the first time, chuckling ambiguously. "Figure it out? What can I figure out when I'm in this ill, pitiful state?" 

Chuuya parted his lips to say something, but closed them right after. Dazai shakily laughed. He would've said hysterically if he didn't know the boy well enough, if he didn't witness his rare breakdowns. "I don't feel my legs anymore, Chuuya! I touch them, and I-I should b-be feeling something, b-b-but- I don't feel them at all! As if they're n-not there…" 

He laughed harder, pulling the covers closer to his torso to cover his face in them. His voice was weak, hoarse, loaded with now explicit tears and helpless cry sessions. "Do you really want to keep pushing a vulnerable version of me on a wheelchair for the rest of our time together?" 

Chuuya allowed himself to approach his lover in drunkard footsteps. "I don't mind carrying you, on my shoulders, in my arms, for the rest of your life if I have to" he sat on the corner of the bed, slowly reaching out to Dazai's milky yet bruised skin. "I don't mind giving you my limbs even" 

Dazai didn't raise his face, sniffing harder into the blankets, gasping to stop the stray, undesired sobs. "You d-deserve better, Chuuya- m-much better, my enemies can hurt you just as badly- p-please…" 

"Tch" Chuuya tsked loudly, mainly to hide the sorrow drowning his innards, blurring his vision. "I can't be double black by myself. Nor Atsushi and Akutagawa can be the second double black without an original double black" 

"So you care about them now, huh?" Dazai slightly calmed down, lips curving up in a sad smile. "Right.. I have to apologize to Akutagawa. Can you send him a letter for me?" 

"No. You'll live and tell him what you wish to write in that letter, and even train him again" Chuuya lifted Dazai's visage softly to share a long, passionate kiss. 

"You'll live and marry me. I'm not giving up on that. You'll live, right?" 

Dazai lied endless times, and never thought twice about any. He lied, drew new worlds and clashed skies on seas, toyed with reality to whatever extent his plan demanded. It never hurt him– but now, he felt his ribs tearing through his bleeding heart, too heavy for him to handle, seeping the crimson liquid in his chest, in his throat. 

"Yes, my love. I'll live. I won't commit euthanasia until I marry you, until we adopt an adorable child and protect them from everything, from the atrocious world" 

The brunette then held the redhead's hands into his, squeezing them gently. "Just leave, Chuuya. Leave and get some sleep. You look tired" 

Chuuya, bright eyed, hope finally creeping to his veins, has surrendered deep inside, somewhere in his mind. He reluctantly stood from the mattress, checking the impossible possibility he might've made true somehow. Because he still had regrets, that he didn't know sooner, that he had no idea his lover desired to die unpainfully. His voice trembled against his will. "I convinced you not to, you're not going to do it, right? When I wake up, I'll come see you again, and you'll still be here- right?" 

"Yes. Just go to rest now, my love" 

The door shut. 

Dazai hid his face between his hands, in a mess of cries and laughter.

"Poor Chuuya!" 

#Soukoku #Chuuya x Dazai #Dazai #Chuuya #Angst #Writing #Bxb

[pillowaya]

All That Humans Could Express Of Their Pain

I was maybe five. Just proudly learnt to read and write, I loved to read everything and anything placed near me.

I curiously peeked my head into the depth of a huge book, half my size, that sat untouched on my father's desk. Cover so thick and pages so large, it ignited intrigue within me right away– luring me to believe it was a grimoire, a portal to another universe where fairies danced among flower fields and monsters roared over their territory.

"You don't have to read it" , my mother kindly commented. "It has melancholic poetry in it"

I remember that much.

And I remember scanning the paragraphs with wide, dreamy eyes, growing heavier with every rhyme, wondering if anyone ever ought to be this sad.

Yet now, now I know,

Growing heavier with every year,

Now I cognize that the excruciatingly sorrowful poems were just all that humans could express of their pain. All that could be put into limited words and tightly related grammar rules, all that could be disposed of when innards hid the bottom of an iceberg and at the surface crashed the Titanic.

#Idontknow #Drabble #Justthoughtofthis #Random