#gray's original

[astheravensighs]

they’re stupid. and by they, i mean dazai

[astheravensighs]

I’m workin on my s/i’s story and i wanted 2 share a lil drabbly/dialogue-y bit between chuuya and tachihara bit with one single sentence of ~almost angst~ or at least dramatic irony at the end (also uhhh bsd manga spoilers if u haven’t read it i guess? i mean not rly but it won’t be nearly as dramatic if u don’t get why it’s angsty?) ok anyway here have a thingy

“So what if I’m not ‘professional’? I’m not an executive!”

“And it’s no fucking wonder why!”

“Maybe if you would take the stick out your ass you’d be a little less /jealous/ when you see people having /fun/!”

“Fun? Is that what you call that little fucking show you put on there? You were so fucking wasted I almost took you to the hospital instead of your home!”

“Oh, how /kind/ of you to care, /boss/.”

The title hit him like a poisoned blade- and it wouldn’t be his first- and he whirled around with fury in his eyes. He backed his subordinate- because that’s what he was, a /subordinate/- into the wall of the long hallway, stabbing a finger into his chest and paralyzing him with a searing gaze.

“Don’t you /ever/ talk to me like that again.”

Tachihara was... Surprised. Almost scared. He’d been on the receiving end of his commander’s rage more than once, and for much less of a reason. But this was something different.

He wasn’t screaming. He wasn’t throwing punches. He wasn’t calling names. Hell, he was even being /mature/, in his own way. His voice was low and quiet, almost a whisper, and his eyes were...

Terrifying.

Because there was a new fire behind them that wasn’t there before.

Chuuya has always had expressive eyes. You could tell if he didn’t sleep well by the darkness of his eyelids. You could tell how close he was to losing his temper if you watched for the telltale squint that followed someone else’s stupid remark.

But this... heat. This flame. It was like someone had poured gasoline into his soul and fed him lit matches. He had a goal. He had a motivation beyond survival. Whatever it was that he wanted to do, he was /hell bent/ on getting it done, and he was gonna destroy anyone and anything in his way. Even if it was just a subordinate with a love for cheap beer and a lack of dignity.

“...Sorry, commander.”

Chuuya held his stare for a few more moments, daring him to take it back.

He didn’t.

The man in charge turned with a scoff, shoving his hands back in his pockets and resuming his brisk pace down the hall.

It was silent for a while, the twists and turns of the Port Mafia headquarters feeling positively claustrophobic when paired with the tension so thick it was choking them both.

“I need you to be more careful from now on.”

“...Yes, sir?”

“If you... If you should end up becoming an executive, you need to be prepared for the responsibility.”

Chuuya’s eyes were locked straight ahead, shoulders squared and expression unreadable.

And Tachihara never fucking thought before he spoke.

“So it’s true? That you’re leaving?”

Chuuya almost stumbled in his stride. /How did they already know?/

“Who told you that?”

He tried to keep his voice steady. He tried desperately. But the way his jaw clenched betrayed just how much that had /scared him/.

“No one in particular... It’s just a rumor that’s been going around, I guess.” Tachihara shrugged, as if it wasn’t the first sign of Chuuya’s world being flipped on it’s ass.

Another long period of silence fell over them, punctuated by only their footsteps on the granite tiles of the floor. Chuuya’s polished shoes clicking heel to toe, Tachihara’s boots thudding with each step. They reached the large metal door that led to the outside world, to the sunlight, to freedom from the brutal discomfort of this whole shitty situation.

Chuuya’s hand paused on the heavy latch.

“I just want you to be prepared,” he repeated, voice wavering and weak. 

“....And I’m only saying that because I trust you.”

[astheravensighs]

alright, I was late for last week’s prompt but I managed a little bit for this one! Under the cut is my little ficlet for the Sunday Romance event thingy going on, prompt was “I hate you” which fits my selfship ot3 perfectly 🙃 we are just 3 bastards that’s just who we are man

I’m also incapable of angst bc I’m a sensitive little idiot but I AM capable of mildly sexy comedy, so that’s what ended up happening here. I’ll put it under the spicier tag- there’s no actual smuttiness but it’s definitely implied, lol. Also I’ve never once been able to conform to a word count limit so uhhh whoops

Mild tws for badly(?) executed shibari, Dazai being an asshole as usual, and Chuuya maintaining his sanity via alcohol :’)

“Alright, I know for a FACT that’s not where it goes.”

Dazai scoffed at Chuuya’s words.

“I know what I’m doing, Chu, give me a second and you’ll see-“

“A single google search doesn’t constitute ‘knowing what you’re doing’ when it comes to shibari, dumbass.”

The girl between them was not what you would call ‘tied up’, but rather, ‘tangled’, in a soft red rope bought just for the occasion. When Dazai brought up the prospect of some artistic bondage, both of his partners had both been more than eager, both mistakenly assuming he had some kind of prior experience.

“I can’t feel my hands...” Gray mumbled, wiggling slightly.

“Ah ah ah- don’t move, darling, I’ve almost got it~”

“Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades,” Chuuya growled in irritation. This was a far cry from what he’d expected the night to be like. He’d even gone to the trouble of popping open his fourth most expensive wine, which was currently the only thing keeping him sane. “It’s supposed to go around the thighs, not the knees. And it’s too tight around her chest, she looks like she can barely breathe. And christ, your knots are fucking terrible...”

Dazai sighed, turning to look the redhead in the eyes with a dangerously fake smile plastered across his face.

“Chuuya, if you say one more word, you’ll be the one getting tied up tonight.”

Chuuya shrugged apathetically and took another sip of his wine as Dazai returned to his fumbling. The room was silent save for the sounds of rope pulling on skin, and a sudden yelp from Gray as it pinched a particularly sensitive area. Chuuya stepped towards her, concern visible in his eyes.

“It’s hurting her, jackass, that’s enough-“

It was almost instant, the way Dazai latched his hands onto Chuuya’s collar, pinning him to the wall with one arm, deftly unraveling the rope from Gray’s body with the other. Chuuya had no time to berate him before it was his body hoisted in the air, ropes perfectly aligned to keep him still in a very vulnerable position, leaving him feeling incredibly exposed despite being fully clothed.

The sly bastard knew what he was doing all along.

Dazai took a sip from Chuuya’s wine glass- somehow he hadn’t spilled a drop in the transfer- and smiled brightly in a way that made Chuuya’s immobilized arms ache to punch him. Gray just stared at her two bickering boyfriends, dumbfounded at the spectacle, and secretly a little glad it wasn’t her turn to be strung up after all.

Dazai approached him, giving him a peck on the nose, relishing the fact that he couldn’t squirm to resist the gesture he usually dodged. His smile was sickeningly joyful.

“Chuuya... you really need to learn to watch your mouth, you know~?”

“...I fuckin’ hate you.”