The thing about Dazai is that he's cruel when he wants to be.
You know this—you've known this even before he admitted in his long-winded way that he's an ex-mafia member. He has a clever tongue, knows how to use it to his advantage when it comes to swooning women or interrogating suspects. He's multifaceted in that regard.
You've only really seen a glimpse or two of his mean streak, a vague memory of when you were ushered out of the Agency infirmary while Dazai was left alone with Kouyou Ozaki that one time. It's best not to think about it, you tell yourself, but all you can think about right now is that you really, really wish he could be that mean right now.
It slipped out somehow—in your rambling, you didn't even notice when you'd stupidly admitting your more-than-cordial-platonic-coworker feelings for him. But you did, and these are the consequences, just not the ones you were expecting.
Fingers twitching, joints tight and stiff in the cold, you look up at Dazai's blank eyes and the flat line of his lips. Stupid. You feel so utterly stupid, and you're waiting here for his response and yet there's none to be given.
What makes it worse is that his eyes are soft. He's not poking fun at you or rolling his eyes or brushing this off. You really, really wish he would, you wish he'd make a joke out of this and humiliate you, you wish he'd run to Kunikida and laugh about it with him and group you in with all the other people he's swooned before, but he just stands there. There's pity in his eyes, or maybe something like careful consideration as he chooses his next words.
"You..." and a thoughtful hum escapes him before he goes quiet again. You hate this. You hate every second of it and you just want him to laugh at your stupid feelings and leave you in the dust so you could cry alone and not in front of him. A burning feeling pricks the backs of your eyes and you're going to die right in front of him, because that'd be much better than dealing with this awful, awful silence.
"I don't think you really mean that."
And you hate him. You hate Dazai, because of course he'd say something like that. In all his self-loathing, he wouldn't think for a minute that you know what you're talking about—that you mean it. You hate him. This is crueler than anything else he could've done.
"I do, Dazai," and your voice is strained, and choked, and your face is hot with embarrassment because this is stupid and ridiculous and just supposed to be a workplace crush gone out of hand. "Just shut up. I do." And when he opens his mouth again to protest, you shake your head and roll your eyes and try not to make this whole thing more dramatic than it's already gotten.
"Whatever. I mean— whatever. I didn't say any of that. I didn't mean it like that. Can you forget it, please, and don't tell anyone, this is awful, Dazai, you're awful, you know."
"I know. I'm sorry."
In your years of working here, you've never heard Dazai Osamu say sorry, not like this. Not with gentle eyes and a hesitant breath. This is ridiculous. You're going to kill him.
"I wouldn't tell anyone," he keeps talking, he keeps talking and you're going to kill him, "That's cruel. I'm sorry."
Cruel. You want to laugh. He would know a lot about that.
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IM SICK, THE TWO PART TEA LOVER FIC IS SO GOOD, I DEVOURED THAT, PLS CONTINUE DOING GOD'S WORK AND WRITING JINGYUAN LIKE THAT— LIGHT, FLIRTATIOUS & PLAYFUL THANK U WRITER 🫶🏽
You’re very sweet, I’m glad people are still finding that two-parter and having a good time! Thank you for reading!
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the apocalypse scene with heat of the moment over it is SO well done godddddd I love the different seasons and delores's little outfits and five's weirdo bike <333
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Day 2: The Jock
Chase was never the brightest tool in the shed, but he didn’t need to be. His GPA was supported by his (now ex) girlfriend, Mari, and he just had to focus on the game. He was a football prodigy, as his coaches would say. But ever since last summer, he’s had to balance football and his own grades. Chase managed it though, and continued to be the star football player that Copperdale High School loved. He even got a football scholarship to Foxbury. Of course, a scholarship means nothing when you’re dead.
The group got separated, despite their best efforts. Nobody was around to save poor Chase. At least, that's what she would tell the newspapers if she made it out of here. But she watched him die, and deep down she knew that she might have been able to save him. But, she was an opportunist, and she ran.
previous / next
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The way you draw Alfred is so pure and perfect, he's the happiest little old man I've ever seen, thank you for blessing us with him.
THIS IS MY FAVORITE COMMENT I'VE GOTTEN EVER,,,,,, just 4 u I'm bringing back one of my fave Alfie doodles
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