ft. Jono Saigiku

canon, divergent, oc, + au muses

18+, semi-selective/private

crossover, au, + oc friendly

established '14, re-established '22

✧ please ♡ or ↺ ✧

HE IS MINE. FINALLY I AM A JING YUAN HAVER

quick update/explanation as to why i'm being so slow on here recently... my 20 hour contract has apparently gone out of the window at work and i've been working full time hours and will be for at least the next month so i'm just exhausted all of the time and rarely get the energy/motivation to write on here... and!!! and i just had to buy a brand new tyre for the car i've got while mine is being worked on to get it back on the road so it really is just one blow after another at the moment.... i'm more active on discord at the moment if u want to talk/plot though

"shut. up."

the response comes far too quickly, even for chuuya's liking. it comes instinctively and far sharper than he's felt the need to be in the year since dazai left chuuya without even a word... without even a message to say that he's okay he just can't be there anymore. watercolour eyes are narrow as chuuya turns back to glare daggers at his partner, something burning in the pit of his chest at the sight that meets him. he barely looks alive. something else twinges and chuuya has to bite back the urge to cross the room and pull the idiot into a bruising hug. no. he won't make it easy for him. he won't forgive dazai at the drop of a hat. he... can't. can he?

"shut up. i'm not killing you an' i'm not takin' you back there. i can look after myself, asshole. i don't need you actin' like you give a shit 'bout me after you upped and left like that--" regret settles across chuuya's frame the second he's finished talking, vision fixed on the ground between them rather than the dwindling frame of his partner. he's angry. he's angry and hurting and lashing out usually helps but this... this just feels wrong. dazai isn't about to fight back, the guy looks like it's taking all of his effort to keep himself on his feet - let alone fire back a snarky response like he used to.

sucking in a deep breath, chuuya drops the tub of crab in his hand atop the kitchen counter and instead grips the edge with both hands - forcing himself to look up and try to lock eyes with dazai. there's so many things he needs to say, so many things he should say, but chuuya can't find any of them as he watches this shell of his partner barely take up the spot he's stood in. instead, he changes the subject again. back to something easier - something more familiar. "you need to eat more. y' look skin an' bone - even from over here. you can't live on crab an' noodles. when was the last time you saw daylight? what about showered? y' need a haircut, too--"

no, dazai hasn't been looking after himself. he is a shadow of a human being and it's clear in his sunken eyes and pale skin. odasaku said it would be lighter if he saved people but dazai can't do that right now. he can't even begin to start for another year. despite ango's best attempts to keep him alive, dazai isn't sure he'll make it that far.

he's stuck in a limbo -- wanting to carry out his friend's dying wish but having no faith in his ability to do so. he's just withering away like a single flame against the wind.

there is no way for dazai to fight against chuuya in a battle of strength and so he stumbles back as the mafioso pushes himself inside. he's silent as chuuya busies himself in the unused kitchen. the only signs that dazai has been eating is the full trash of emptied cans of crab and instant noodles.

" second from the left, " dazai mumbles. he's never used those plates -- they were already furnished with the safe house. auburn eyes watch his partner stock food that dazai will never eat, not unless someone cooks-- oh.

" just kill me and take me in. " dazai's voice is sharper this time, filled with more purpose. " if anyone finds out then they'll consider you a traitor too. "

"y'know - i'm getting real sick an' tired of people talkin' to me in riddles, jono," still, there's a significant lack of bite behind the dog's words as he continues to stare off somewhere in the middle distance ahead of him instead of offering the fox beside him a glance. it's stupid, he shouldn't have asked - shouldn't have opened pandora's box like that.

and yet... chuuya wants an answer. he wants some kind of context to put to the whirlwind of his relationship with his partner. he wants to know why it sends a white hot flash of something that isn't anger when dazai talks about his own death - when dazai puts chuuya in impossible decisions and when dazai continues to push his guard dog further and further away while keeping that same vice-grip on the end of his leash.

jono always knows what to say, though. he always knows how to nudge chuuya in any direction he wishes - the same way dazai knows he can ask chuuya to do anything for him and the answer will always be a resounding yes. lifting his chin, chuuya looks back to jono, water coloured gaze flecked with scarlet watches the innkeeper intently as if he might uncoil into something else right before him. as if the stare alone might make the damned man talk like a normal person and not some poet from years ago.

"you didn't answer my question..." his voice is quiet when he finally speaks again, gaze unmoving from jono's features even through the haze of exhaustion and pain intent on obscuring chuuya's vision. it's fine. he's had worse. fought through worse. he's not even really sure he needed jono to tend to his injuries. thinks that maybe he just wanted the company of someone who's not actively trying to push him away. "how am i meant t' know if... if he actually cares?

"I thought you told me to be quiet," he delivers the teasing jab lightly, not particularly ruffled or even surprised that Chuuya would tell him to shut up and then immediately ask a searching question. Sometimes he has to wonder if Chuuya's visits are for the sake of venting his frustrations on someone just as willing to bite back.

Even if the fox is not privy to every little detail of the Port Mafia's goings-on, he'd be a poor excuse for an informant if he was oblivious to everything. Especially where the likes of Nakahara Chuuya is involved. He could clearly read the tension, the exhaustion, the fury and sorrow all tangled up in the flesh beneath the fox's fingertips. Here sits an individual being pulled in a thousand directions at once, it's no wonder his mood catapults from one side to the other in a span of breaths whenever the two have a conversation--it hardly helps that Jono goes out of his way to nudge at those coiled emotions simply to see which way they'll bounce next.

"Are you certain I'm the right person to ask that?" The fox lingers a moment, ministrations pausing as well, just long enough to give Chuuya a chance to think twice before he continues in a quiet voice. Tempting although it is to continue with coy commentary, today he'll take a small degree of mercy on Chuuya. He can't imagine Dazai's loyal dog sees much of mercy or honesty, so it may prove interesting as far as reactions go. "Caring about someone--or them caring about me--may as well be a death sentence in my line of work, you know that. I'm merely paid to create an illusion of caring. It's not a curtain you should be tugging at, Chuuya-san."

main story quests finished...... that was so much...........

i AM HOMEEEEEE

// hc posts i need to make when i have a working keyboard:

-body/scars headcanons -chuuya + gender -chuuya+ara -experiences during his time in the lab -chuuya+grief -hsr (and also genshin) chuuya masterpost -beast chuuya masterpost -default chuuya verse's timeline (including @prodigls' dazai involvement)

i'm stranded on my laptop for the next week so any writing ii get done will depend entirely on my patience for dealing with the janky keyboard it's got lmao

uhhhhh like this and i'll send u a chuuya in ur inbox or go through your memes and send u some owo

uhhhhh like this and i'll send u a chuuya in ur inbox or go through your memes and send u some owo

@vulpesly asked -> "You're a mess. How did you even get into this situation?" -> after-action patch up starters - accepting

"shut it, fox." though, there's a distinct lack of bite in the dog's voice as he snaps the retort back at the inn keep. chuuya's skin burns at his back, his eyes feel heavy and the only relief is gentle touches from skilled hands gently soothing some kind of medicinal balm across the scrapes and blossoming bruises that span the executive's body. despite the way he all but bares his teeth through the words, chuuya doesn't move an inch. he allows jono to continue his ministrations without resistance - other than the verbal kind.

they both know that he can't tell jono how he ended up like this - just like he can't tell him why. they both know chuuya is hopelessly dangling over a crevice neither of them can see the bottom of and the bodyguard can't find it in him to explain any of it to jono again.

"i thought you weren't gonna ask questions? you know you're not gonna get an answer, jono." softer this time, more tinged with exhaustion as chuuya deflates where he sits - shoulders dropping and eyes just barely staying open as the day's ordeal begins to catch up with him. distantly, chuuya wonders if it's more than today that's beginning to weigh on him. he wonders if watching his partner's slow, unstoppable descent into something neither of them could stop was starting to make parts of chuuya fray at the edges. he wonders if dazai even cares anymore. he wonders if he ever cared in the first place.

"...hey, jono?" he doesn't look up, doesn't turn his head. instead chuuya keeps his eyes downcast and narrowed as if to block out any of this happening around him. "how do you know if someone.. cares about you?"

post-corruption

depression hits different when finances come into play--

so our work decided that the best way to cut expenses (instead of reducing on the overabundance of product we order and throw out every day), is to cut everyone's hours so that we're all now just under the full-time employment level. that's going to be an ugly hit to my paycheck for the foreseeable future.

i'm not really the sort to ask for or expect hand outs, but i will mention here that i take sewing commissions for custom stuffed animals and i have an etsy shop with some genshin impact themed ones too. so if you're in the market, hit me up in DMs or discord, i like to think i have very reasonable prices and a quick completion speed. any commissions go straight toward taking care of my family and doggos.

i wrote One Whole Thing are u all proud of me

@prodigls asked -> ❛ i still want to be here with you. i will always want to be here with you. ❜ -> everything everywhere all at once ; accepting

this is it, chuuya thinks. this is finally it. he's finally lost his mind. well and truly, completely and utterly lost his mind. he could laugh, could throw something across the apartment - but neither of those options would change anything. neither of those options will do anything to change what happened a month ago.

nothing chuuya does now will bring him back.

at first, he'd hear the door open and close in the evenings - around the time dazai would come home from the agency... only to be reminded that dazai is gone by the empty apartment that met him as he rounded the corner, every single time. then, chuuya would swear he could hear his partner's voice as he lay there wide awake staring at the ceiling of their bedroom. he could never decipher the words but the tone was unmistakeable - a tone he'd recognise even in death.

because that's what this is, right? in death. dazai is dead. he died down in that prison - a painful, prolonged death because chuuya couldn't fight the vampire virus fast enough... because chuuya couldn't save him like dazai trusted him to. he couldn't even give the bastard an easy death like he wanted.

then why is chuuya stood face to face with dazai osamu in his kitchen? why is dazai osamu stood there, smiling at him like nothing happened? why does chuuya feel like he's losing his mind more and more by the second? why can he hear dazai's voice but not pin down the words he's saying?

the world spins, twists around him as chuuya's hands itch at his sides and something clicks. the image in front of him solidifies and bile rises in his throat, his chest clenches as nakahara chuuya feels fit to throw up then and there. 'i still want to be here with you. i will always want to be here with you.' it's spoken softly, full of care and affection - full of everything double black had for each other when hidden away from the rest of the world. full of everything just for the two of them.

grief and rage twist through his ribcage as his knees threaten to buckle and chuuya remembers what it was like to watch albatross die in his arms again. he remembers the sight of dazai's eyes going dull as chuuya remained trapped, paralysed in his own body, unable to do anything but watch and tear his body apart from the inside out. i still want to be here with you. it hurts, burns his skin the longer he thinks about it - the longer he stares blankly at the translucent image of his partner.

"you died. you ain't here. you used me, again and again, until it killed you," teeth grit, fists clench and chuuya shakes his head and buries his teeth in the flesh of his cheek until he tastes blood. "you left me."

this is stupid. dazai disappeared on him without a word. dazai dropped off the face of the earth for everyone and his partner without a single word or message. not even a text from a deactivated number. not even a note left in their usual hiding spots that chuuya made sure to shatter with his ability when he thought he was finally over it. nothing. chuuya should give him the same. he should tell dazai to leave the city before he bleeds him out and takes him to mori in a body bag.

but then... chuuya has never been one to do exactly what he should do, has he?

there's still a part of the gravity manipulator that can feel the drunk, angry haze he'd been drowning in for the week or two after dazai vanished. and yet... the door opens and all of that melts away to nothing but a whisper in the back of his skull. watercolour gaze locks with dull auburn and the heat in chuuya's chest disappears.

"what d'you mean, 'huh'? i brought food, dumbass. i saw how bare those cupboards of yours are - clearly you still can't look after yourself, even after a year." averting his gaze, chuuya's jaw is tight as he flattens a gloved hand against the door and pushes his way in without a second of hesitation. if he hesitates then he won't do it. if he hesitates, then... well, then maybe dazai will think about it for too long and shut chuuya out again.

biting back the sting that thought provides, chuuya steps across the threshold without waiting for permission. still, he doesn't look fully to dazai - instead the mafioso heads towards the tiny, basic kitchen and drops the three laden bags in his hand on the counter. then, he shrugs his backpack off and adds it to the collection. he doesn't linger, doesn't stop to think as he starts opening cupboards at random. this is easier. this means he doesn't have to say what he's thinking. this means they can be... they can be together - for a while again, anyway. "where's all your plates? surely you ain't been eatin' off've the floor this whole time--"

pain is like the tide. it ebbs and flows but it's always there, lapping at your ankles or ready to sweep you away. there are good days where dazai can pick himself up and be productive ( well, as productive as a fugitive can be ). but other days it's like the high tide pulling him down into the deep, dark ocean. he hasn't been able to get on his feet since seeing chuuya.

he knew chuuya would be angry. hell, only akutagawa could match chuuya in his rage towards dazai. if only it were as simple as a run-in with his ex-pupil would have been. if only chuuya had cut off his head and presented it to mori on a silver platter. things would be so much easier then. but whatever it is they have together -- that nameless intensity between them -- is anything but easy. so dazai really shouldn't be surprised that he hears chuuya's sharp voice on the other side of the door.

eyes raise from the floor to the door as dazai stares at the entrance to the apartment from behind his fringe. everything hurts. physically. how long has he just been lying on the floor? what time is it? somewhere along the way it got dark out. the incessant knocking makes dazai flinch as if chuuya was rapping his head instead of the door. he's angry. he doesn't want to open the door when chuuya is angry.

but it's too much to ask that his partner will ever go away, not when the stubborn slug has gotten it into his head that he's going to come back to dazai's hideaway. so with a noise of discomfort, dazai forces himself to stand. limbs hang heavy like cinderblocks as he shuffles to the door and unlocks it.

the door opens slowly, dazai peeking through the small sliver to see chuuya with...food? " ...huh? "