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stray-cattt · 8 months

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My Hand & Yours

A Bungo Stray Dogs hurt/comfort fanfic, mostly angst. If you'd rather read it on A03, here's the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49790131

Summary: What if things had gone differently after Odasaku's death? Basically that but inspired by: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8YgoMWj/

Content/Trigger Warnings: Blood, throwing up, brief mentions of self destructive habits, survivors guilt. Be sure to take care of yourself!

With empty eyes Dazai finds himself walking to Bar Lupin mindlessly. His body takes him through the streets of Yokohama, not even processing where he’s going, as if his mind is stuck on autopilot. Odasaku’s blood still moist on his hand, seeping into his skin. His skin was so pale he could’ve been mistaken for a ghost, just a spirit passing by. Dazai had nearly made it to the bar when Chuuya passed him, the smoke from his cigarette polluting the air. Quietly, with little thought, he muttered,

“Odasaku’s dead.”

The words hung densely in the air, such words Dazai never imagined he would speak.

Chuuya stopped in his tracks, his cigarette hitting the damp sidewalk. Wordlessly he turned around and engulfed Dazai in a hug. He was still before crumbling to pieces in Chuuya’s arms. His body began trembling as his knees buckled beneath him, sobs racking his body as he screamed into Chuuya’s arms, garnering stares from strangers passing by.

“I’m sorry,” Chuuya mutters,

Dazai grasped Chuuya’s shirt as though his life depended on it and his voice began to crack raw from screaming. His breathing was uneven, his knees now damp as they pressed into the sidewalk, soaking the rainwater into his jeans. Through it all Chuuya held him there, whispering sweet nothings into his ear and running a hand through his hair.

They paid no mind to the eyes of passersby and stayed there until Dazai’s voice could no longer be used. Till his tears could no longer produce and all he was left with was the emptiness he felt inside. Something inside him had changed, and would never be the same.

Without warning Dazai let go of Chuuya’s shirt turning his head into the alleyway to the left of them and threw up what little was left of his stomach. His throat burned from excessive use and now the bile that had crawled up his esophagus. Dazai dry heaved as Chuuya rubbed his back trying to soothe him. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state broke Chuuya’s heart into pieces, never in his three years of knowing him had he seen him shed so much as a tear.

Dazai shook, letting out sounds of anguish as Chuuya wiped the remaining residue off of his mouth with his sleeve.

“Let’s go home,” Chuuya said, helping Dazai to his feet. Standing on shaky legs Dazai shakes his head, more tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“Come on,” The redhead says, leading the brunette away from the stench of the bile in the alleyway. Dazai doesn’t fight back as Chuuya takes his wrist in his hand leading him back to the Port Mafia dorms.

“This isn’t the way to my container,” Dazai mumbles, furrowing his brows together.

“I know,”

Dazai grumbles and lets Chuuya drag him along anyway. As they walk Dazai finds himself longing for the burn of sake, and the self-destruction that later follows. He finds his mind quickly turning to self-destructive thoughts beginning to spiral.

I could’ve done better.

I could’ve saved him.

Why am I so pathetic?

Why couldn’t it have been me?

Soon his thoughts got the best of him, stopping him in his tracks as he drowned within the confines of his mind. His brain was a swirling storm of destruction, he was slowly losing himself, his breathing catching in the back of his throat. Only were his thoughts nullified when Chuuya put a hand on his cheek, slightly caressing his face with his thumb. Dazai felt the thoughts leave his mind as he could only focus on the heat coming from Chuuya’s hand. Dazai leaned his head into Chuuya’s hand, closing his eyes. The two stayed there taking in the moment for a few minutes more.

“Let’s keep going, we’re almost there.” He says running a hand through Dazai’s hair before taking his hand off of his face and intertwining it with Dazai’s.

Wordlessly the two of them walk into Chuuya’s small apartment in the Port Mafia’s dormitories. Once inside Dazai stands in front of the door not moving. After removing his shoes, Chuuya bends down and removes Dazai’s shoes and leads him to his bathroom. Chuuya grabs Dazai’s blood-stained hands and leads them to the sink. Flinching back, Dazai holds his hands to his chest.

“Dazai, you’re going to need to wash your hands eventually. The longer you wait the harder it’ll be,” Chuuya takes Dazai’s shaking hands in his own and slowly leads them to the sink.

“Can I turn the water on?” He asks softly, not wanting to try and pressure the other. Dazai gives a small nod, the redhead turns the water. The brunette lets the warm water soak his stained hands, watching as the blood mixes with the water running down the drain. Tears begin to fill his eyes as Chuuya starts to clean off his hands with soap.

“He’s really gone isn’t he?” His voice cracked, a single tear falling from his eye. “I’m never gonna see him, hear him, or talk to him again.” Dazai lets out a heartbreaking sob as he collapses to his knees. He stares at his hands, the ones that not only held Oda when he was in his last moments, the ones that held the responsibility of single-handedly murdering hundreds of people. His hands, although they were no longer stained with blood, Dazai could feel it still. The blood crusted up beneath his fingernails, the red substance gone but not forgotten. A thin hint of iron carried in the air.

Chuuya turns off the sink and bends down next to him watching him with calculating eyes, trying to figure out what’s running through his head. Dazai looks up at Chuuya, his eyes unreadable. The following question he asked the redhead he never thought he would in his seven years.

“Will you leave the Port Mafia with me?” Chuuya looked at him with wide eyes at a loss for words. Silence hung in the air between them.

“The hell Dazai?” Chuuya asks in shock, trying to understand if he had even heard the brunette correctly.

“I can’t continue on like this,” Dazai shakes his head, staring at the floor. “Oda-” His voice cracks as he starts to shake again. The brunette clears his throat and tries to speak again.

“Odasaku, he told me,” Dazai struggles with his words and takes a deep breath. “He told me to be on the side that saves people, to become a good man. Something I’m not, and if I want to fulfill his wish I can’t do it here.” Dazai spouts on the edge of another breakdown.

Chuuya takes in Dazai’s words, letting them sink into his bones as he processes what Dazai told him and asked of him. While his loyalty to the Port Mafia is strong, his loyalty to his partner is stronger. Silently Chuuya nods, running a hand through Dazai’s hair and whispers a soft yes.

Dazai lets himself fall forward into Chuuya’s arms. He had half expected him to tell him no given the extent of the request, but another part of him didn’t even know why he asked Chuuya and dragged him into this mess that he saw as his alone to bear.

They sat together on the floor of the bathroom holding each other trying to come up with a plan to leave since they needed to act fast but decided they needed to rest first before they could solidify any plans.

Once in Chuuya’s room, they both changed into pajamas and crawled into the small bed facing one another. They lay there in silence, neither of them daring to speak a word after everything that had occurred in the span of a few hours.

Chuuya noticed a distance in Dazai’s eyes, it was one of those moments where he was lost within the depths of his mind again.

“It’s not your fault, you know. You don’t have to carry that burden,” Chuuya spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Dazai met his eyes with a solemn look.

“But I-” Dazai started only to be quickly cut off by Chuuya.

“No buts, I’m serious. It’s not your fault.” Chuuya says firmly, putting a hand on Dazai’s shoulder.

Dazai shakes his head and closes his eyes before changing the subject swiftly.

“I need sake, or some other distraction.” He whines, frowning.

Chuuya takes his hand and carefully caresses Dazai’s cheek.

“What you need is sleep,” Dazai’s frown deepens but Chuuya ignores him and instead pulls him towards him, giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead.

He holds the other in his arms as they lay together underneath the blankets. Any grumbles of resistance stop as soon as Chuuya’s hand starts to play with his hair. In Chuuya’s arms, Dazai finds himself relaxing and drifting off to sleep peacefully for the first time in nearly a decade. He nuzzles his face into Chuuya’s chest, holding onto him tightly. Chuuya simply hums and plays with the brunette's soft messy hair until he falls asleep. Once Dazai is asleep Chuuya lets himself drift off into a dreamless sleep with Dazai in his arms.

The two of them lay together their limbs entangled with each other sleeping peacefully as the moon’s light filtered in through the curtains.

Whatever happened, the two of them had each other.

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stray-cattt · 8 months

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the pain is gone, but all your scars remain

A Nimona (2023) hurt/comfort fanfic, if you'd rather read it on A03, here's the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48475993

Summary: Basically, Ambrosius and Ballister are getting ready for bed and things are still a bit awkward and tense between them so they talk about things.

Content/Trigger Warnings: None that I can think of

Ballister carefully disengages his prosthetic arm and sets it on the table across from his and Ambrosius’ bed. Sometimes it’s like it's still there, his arm, he can feel it. The pain comes and goes, sometimes aching, other times more like a quick sharp pain, there, then gone. Ballister stands there deep in thought as his gaze is fixed on his prosthetic as his mind replays it all, without realizing it his breathing becomes shallow.

A knock from the bedroom door interrupts his thoughts and slowly he tears his gaze from the table. The door slowly opens to reveal Ambrosius dressed in his pajamas, fidgeting with his sleeves that are slightly too long, before lifting his gaze to meet Ballisters.

“Everything alright? You haven’t got dressed for bed yet.” Ambrosius asks, concern laced in his eyes. Quietly he shuts the door behind him and inches a bit closer to Ballister, placing a hand on his right shoulder, the action seems to pull him out of his mind.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about things and got a bit distracted,” Ballister lets out a weak laugh only meeting Ambrosius’ eyes for a brief second before his eyes linger on the table again. Ambrosius follows his gaze and lets out a small sigh as guilt begins to plague his being. Before Ambrosius can get a word in, Ballister continues, looking him in the eyes.

“I’ll go get ready for bed now, I’ll be back in a bit.” Ballister gives Ambrosius a small smile before grabbing his PJs off of his side of the bed and heading toward the bedroom door. Ambrosius nearly grabs his hand to stop him but stops himself and lets Ballister walk through the door.

Ambrosius feels a weight crashing onto his chest as Ballister softly closes the door. A shaky breath leaves him as one of his hands grasps the front of his shirt. He sits on the unmade bed as his thoughts begin to race about all that he’d done to his lover, it had only been a month since everything had all happened. Neither of them had really talked in depth about what happened, yes there were the rushed apologies right off the bat, but they hadn’t really expressed to each other how it had all impacted them emotionally. Maybe tonight would be the night they could talk about it, tonight, tomorrow morning, sometime soon, they needed to talk.

Ballister tossed his dirty clothes in the hamper in the corner of the bathroom before taking a look at himself in the mirror. The bags under his eyes were heavy, and even after returning next to his lover's side, and stopping the director he still didn’t feel at rest, he couldn’t. Thoughts of Nimona often plagued his mind, if maybe she would return by whatever magic that had created her. He hadn’t gone back to their ‘evil lair’ yet, it still seemed too painful.

Of course it wasn’t only the thought of Nimona that haunted him, it was also scars left over from what had all happened in those few days, weeks maybe? Everything had happened so fast time seemed to slip his grasp. The scars, mental, emotional, and physical all had yet to heal completely, at points Ballister worried that they never would.

Ballister took his hand and ran it through his hair. He needed a shower but hadn’t found it in him to take one, at least not tonight. Sighing, he dropped his hand from his hair and quickly brushed his teeth before leaving the bathroom.

Ballister didn’t knock before he entered his shared room with Ambrosius. He expected Ambrosius to have already been laying in bed, but the bed had yet to be made and instead, his lover was standing in front of his prosthetic. His fingers lightly traced the wiring and metal with a sense of melancholy. The closing of the door caused Ambrosius to jump a bit, pulling his fingers away from Ballister’s prosthetic. Startled, he turned his head towards the door making eye contact with his lover.

The silence between them was heavy and dense, the unsaid words threatening to choke them as they stared into each other's eyes. Ambrosius was the first one to break the silence as he cleared his throat and took his eyes off of Ballister, now looking at the bed.

“Want to help me make the bed?” Ambrosius suggested, scratching the back of his head. For the most part, they had been behaving as they always had, but sometimes it got awkward and stiff as if the air molecules in the air had stopped moving. Ballister blinked for a second processing Ambrosius’ words before nodding and walking over to their bed. They both fixed the sheets together standing on their respective sides of the bed. With the bed made, Ballister turned on the lamp on the right side of the bed as Ambrosius turned off the main lights of the room.

Neither of them said a word as they lay down in their bed getting situated. Given that they were both in bed now, Ballister turned off the lamp and all that illuminated the room was the lights of the city filtering in through the thin curtains covering the window. They were quiet for a few minutes more before Ambrosius finally spoke up.

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry, I know I’ve already apologized to you before right after it happened and a couple times after but I feel like we haven’t really gotten to talk about it that much with everything that’s been happening since the queen died. I am so genuinely sorry for how I treated you and your friend Nimona,” At the mention of her name Ballister stiffened a bit, he knew that eventually, they’d have to have a real conversation about it, but he didn’t expect it to be this night.

“I treated both of you unfairly, and while I never believed that you had actually killed the queen, I didn’t say anything to stick up for you and in staying silent I sided with those who were hunting you down. While everything turned out okay in the end, at least… for the most part, I shouldn’t have stood by their side. I should’ve questioned what the director was telling me and not seen Nimona out to be what she wasn’t. While I’ve apologized hundreds of times for your arm, I will apologize for it again, even though it’s what we were trained to do, I took a part of you that you can’t get back and have caused you pain and harm. Sometimes all my mind can do is replay my actions toward you at that moment and the moments following. I wish I could change my actions and go back and know what I know now back then, but I know I can’t. I just want you to know how much I love and care about you, Ballister,” Ambrosius confessed, a few stray tears making their way down his face as he reached out to brush away a couple of tears that had fallen from Ballister’s eyes.

“I know Ambrosius, and I love you too, and care about you so much. I really appreciate all that you’ve said, and I want to acknowledge that you were being manipulated while this all happened. You don’t have to carry the weight of it all, let some of it fall onto others. I would’ve probably responded the same way had our positions been switched. In the end, the person you are now is not the person you were back then, and that’s what matters. I’m in love with you, not your mistakes. While I’m glad you were able to acknowledge them, they don’t define you. While they’ve left scars, scars will heal someday, even if they feel like they won’t. I know I feel that way sometimes. Someday the pain will be gone, and all that will remain will be the scars and the stories they hold. I’m not sure if I’m making a lot of sense here, but I want you to know that together we can grow and move past this. You don’t have to feel guilty, you’ve suffered the consequences enough.” Ballister responded gently to Ambrosius, now caressing his face with his left hand.

A weight had been lifted off the both of them, even if just a little bit, things were more manageable. Together they held each other and cried for what seemed to be an eternity but wasn’t quite nearly as long. They lovingly stared at one another, the filtered light highlighting the tear tracks that had run down their faces like rivers.

They talked a bit more after the tears had died down, being honest with each other about what they had been feeling. Talked about things they’d only ever share with each other, and by the time they had reached an end to their conversation, the majority of the city had fallen asleep.

In silence they held each other, Ballister held onto his lover’s waist and laid his head on his chest as Ambrosius traced patterns into his back. Together they lulled themselves to sleep to the sounds of the city of those who stayed awake in ungodly hours. Tomorrow would be a new day for them, things would be different for the better. Plus, maybe even Ballister would stop by his ‘evil lair’ and run into a friend. But who knows, that’s tomorrow, and right now he’s sleeping by his lover's side, content.

#angst #fluff and angst #nimona #nimona netflix #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #much needed conversations #ptsd #mentioned ish #healthy relationships #men crying #mentions of phantom pains #cuddling and snuggling #comfort #hurt/comfort #crying #angst and feels

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stray-cattt · 11 months

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If I could hold you, for one hour more

A falsettos angst fanfic, if you’d rather read it on A03, here’s the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47413327

Summary: Marvin and Whizzer are dancing together then get in an argument after Whizzer feels hurt from something Marvin said (classic Marvin), they talk it through and makeup then play chess. Nothing else happens at the end, mhm, yep, that's totally it, that's all that happens. If you think I'm lying read it

Context warnings: Implied/referenced character death

Marvin glances at Whizzers hand in his, the other one on his side as they sway together. They never had danced like this before, since Marvin would always refuse saying he couldn’t dance. But here they were, dancing together hand in hand. Whizzer wordlessly spun Marvin before they returned to their waltz.

“You lied, you can dance.” Whizzer rolled his eyes, spinning Marvin once more. At this Marvin halted, the music playing in their minds coming to a stop.

“I never said that,” Marvin scoffed, crossing his arms and looking away from Whizzer, refusing to meet his gaze.

“No, you did, you can’t lie to me Marvin, I can always tell.” Whizzer soured, taking a few steps toward him before flicking him in the forehead. Marvin met Whizzers inquisitive gaze frowning at the other man.

“Aww come on, where’s that smile of yours, you know you look prettier when you smile.” Whizzer jested, smirking a bit before nudging Marvin’s shoulder playfully.

“So what if I told you I couldn’t dance and I could, that’s my business.” Marvin huffed, walking over to their velvet couch. Whizzer stood there for a moment before joining him.

“I just would’ve liked to know, we could’ve danced sooner.”

“How did we even start dancing?” Marvin inquired.

“Does that matter? Come on Marv, let’s just enjoy the moment.” Whizzer responded, moving Marvin’s hair out of his face, before starting to run his hands through the others' hair. Marvin felt himself melting at his touch, and let himself relax shutting his eyes.

The two sat in a comfortable silence happy to be existing together in the same space.

“How come we don’t do this more often?” Marvin asked after a few minutes had passed. Whizzers hand stopped then pulled out of Marvin's hair.

“If you weren’t off playing family so much maybe we would, but you seem to be spending your efforts there, then coming back to the apartment to argue with me,” Whizzer answered, speaking with an edge to his voice. Marvin was left silent for a moment, trying to think of a rebuttal to use against the other before one sparked in his mind.

“Well, at least I don’t sleep around with the whole city, pretty boy.” Marvin smirked, proud of what he had come up with, but also feeling a tinge of regret when he saw something shift in Whizzers eyes.

“Is that all you see me as? A pretty boy with no brain that will sleep with any man?” Whizzer soured, moving away from Marvin closer to the other side of the couch. Marvin for once was at a loss for words unsure what to say. At his silence, Whizzer scoffed before getting off the couch and making his way to the door. Before he could get too close to the door Marvin shot up and grabbed his wrist which Whizzer broke away from his grasp turning to him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, can we go back to how things were?” Desperation clear in his voice.

“No, you have to tell me what you actually think of me Marvin, because I can never tell with you,” Whizzer responded, letting out a breath he didn’t realize had been trapped in his throat. Marvin’s mouth twisted as he fidgeted with his hands trying to get his thoughts in order. Whizzer tapped his foot on the floor, “I haven’t got all the time in the world to wait for you.”

“I know just give me a second at least,” Marvin said, holding his hands up and taking a deep breath in. “God you never make it easy do you, Whizzer to me, you’re everything. As much as I might hate to admit it, I need you, you light up every room you walk into and never fail to make me smile. I know I give you a lot of shit and argue with you all the time, but you have something that I could never find in Trina or any other woman I was with. You thrill me like no other, make me feel smart, and make me feel like nothing else matters when it’s just you and me in each other's arms.”

Whizzer let everything Marvin said sink in, not expecting an actual genuine answer from him. Marvin was looking everywhere but Whizzers eyes, as he felt his filling with tears, the silence making him think the worst.

“Marv, you okay? I don’t hate you, I’m just processing.” Whizzer stated, bringing a hand up to the shorter’s cheek and brushing away the stray tear that had fallen. Marvin nodded, trying his best to not be overcome with emotions, pulling away from Whizzer to wipe his face on the sleeves of his shirt. It was a brief moment before Whizzer spoke again, “Thank you for saying all of that really, it means a lot coming from you.”

The two met each other’s gaze, giving soft smiles to the other, joining their hands together.

“Can I kiss you?” Marvin asked, pulling one of his hands away to anxiously fix his hair.

“Of course,” Whizzer answered, Marvin pulled Whizzer in by his hips and they met together for a soft kiss. A few seconds passed before they pulled apart, Marvin held Whizzer close in his arms taking in his scent, and letting his heart calm down. Begrudgingly after a minute or two Marvin pulled away smiling sweetly.

“Want to play chess?” He asked Whizzer, squeezing his hands.

“Is that even a question?” Whizzer questioned, smirking at Marvin with a knowing look in his eyes.

“I’ll let you win.”

“Don’t let me win.”

“I’ll let you win,”

Marvin’s eyes opened slowly to be met with his cold and dim room. He looks at the small digital clock on his nightstand blaring the numbers 4:09 AM. A pit forms in his stomach as he takes both of his hands and wraps them around his stomach feeling nausea hit his body. It doesn’t take long for him to begin to break down sobbing, his wails echoing in his empty apartment, once made for two. Marvin wishing for nothing more but Whizzers hands around his torso rather than his own as he feels himself crumbling to pieces.

“I feel as though you’ve ruined my ability to function properly Whizzer,” Marvin croaked, “But lord knows I would do it over and over again just to have you with me again.” More salty tears ran down his face, some slipping into his mouth as his sobs poured out of his mouth.

“Just one hour more, I just want to hold you for one hour more, God please.” Marvin mourned, clutching his pillow to his chest.

Somewhere deep inside Marvin, he felt guilty. Guilty for how he treated Whizzer, how he treated Trina, how he felt he failed as a father to Jason, how he seemed to ruin every good thing that happened to him, and part of him blamed himself for Whizzer dying.

Even sometimes he finds himself wondering if things would’ve been better if they had never met, or never kissed. That first kiss of theirs had started it all, sneaking out early in the mornings to see him, late at night, having lunch with him during his work lunch break. Whizzer’s kisses were his addiction, they made him feel things he’d never felt kissing Trina. He knew after the first time he kissed Whizzer that he’d never be sober again and he’d be happy that way. But now his supplier was gone, leaving Marvin eternally in withdrawal.

“Whizzer, what would I do if you hadn’t been my friend?” Marvin uttered under his breath before his eyes could no longer stay open and he passed out.

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stray-cattt · 11 months

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The Rooftops That Cry at Night

A Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia angst fanfic, hurt/comfort, lowkey vent fanfic, if you’d rather read it on A03, here’s the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45798712

Summary: Just because Dabi is a villian doesn't mean he's going to leave the #2 hero alone breaking down on the verge of a panic attack. He may be an ass but he's not a complete asshole. Might be a bit out of character but I don't really care, I started this fic at 3 AM because someone was playing the flute outside of my dorm and I couldn't sleep. I originally posted this on March 16th, I just forgot to put it here.

Content warnings: panic attack, break downs, and age regression a bit (as a coping mechanism)

Hawks glanced at his alarm clock that read 3:21AM; letting a sigh leave his mouth he turned off his 4AM alarm for patrol before turning to his balcony. Dressed in his hero attire that he hadn’t taken off in the past two days he took a deep breath before jumping off the balcony and letting his wings spread. Hawks shivered as the brisk night air hit his face. It was nights like these where he flew aimlessly with no destination in mind, just flying to fly. Well not entirely, flying to stop the pounding in his head from his thoughts. The thoughts that were never ending swirling around in his mind. Hawks mindlessly scanned the terrain he passed, even though he didn’t have patrol for another hour he couldn’t find it in himself to stand still for a minute more. His body ached to move, to do anything, to be useful. If he wasn’t working, did he really hold any value?

Tonight was quieter than normal, not much seemed to be going on, and it seemed that even the villains had laid down to rest tonight. Something that Hawks craved but remained out of reach. It’s not as though he hadn’t tried sleeping, but every time he felt too restless to stay still and allow himself to relax. Over the past week, he maybe got a collective 21 hours of sleep if he was being generous, lately, the commission had been on his ass with more missions and patrols barely leaving enough time for him to take care of himself. Not that he had the energy to in the first place.

Hawks sighed, boredom seeping into his bones accompanied by a familiar sense of loneliness. The usual mind-numbing feeling that tended to follow him with these flights seemed to be absent as his thoughts continued to berate him. He felt his insides shake and decided he needed to find a spot to land before he lost control of himself. He landed on the rooftop of a building, unaware of a familiar figure sitting on the opposite side of the roof as his mind seemed to blur out the rest of the world around him. Hawks’ breathing started to rapidly increase as his emotions overwhelmed and enveloped him.

His knees buckled and he ungracefully knelt down on his knees before hunching over and wrapping his arms around his torso. His body shook as his wings wrapped around himself, Hawks could feel the tears pricking at his eyes. As much as he tried to keep them within the confines of his eyes they fell and continued falling like rain onto the concrete roof. Shallow sobs left his mouth as his mind went into hyperdrive.

Imagine if your handler saw you like this.

What would the commission say about this behavior?

Pathetic really how little it takes to break down like this,

I thought you were supposed to be a hero.

Thoughts continued to swarm him and rally up against him, but before falling into even more of a hyperventilating panic the sound of footsteps approaching him caused him to halt his sobs. Hawks tried to hold himself as still as he could while quieting his shallow breaths to the best of his ability. How long had they been there? How had he not noticed? Hawks cursed his lack of sleep slowly catching up to him, this wouldn’t have been a problem for any other hero, why is he faulty?

“Hawks?” A familiar voice asked quietly, he would’ve described it as gentle had he not recognized who the voice belonged to. Hawks felt physically unable to give a verbal response back, and when he tried all that left his mouth was a pitiful whine.

Hawks flinched as a hand lightly touched his wings, but slightly relaxed at the warmth it was emitting before quickly tensing again as he remembered who he was dealing with. Although Dabi had not given off any hostility so far, Hawks still felt on edge. He briefly forgot about the hand on his wings until it moved away, he held back a whimper as the hand was retracted and his breathing began to pick up once again, not realizing how the hand had been grounding him.

Noticing this Dabi put his hand back on Hawks’ wing and began to pet it trying to comfort the other. Hawks’ feelings were conflicting with one another as he couldn’t tell if it was safe to relax. Safe. When was the last time he felt that, infancy? More treats began to pour from his eyes as tremors ran through his body.

“Shhh, breathe birdy,” Dabi whispered, trying to get the other to calm down. Hawks’ hands moved from around his waist to clenching his pants as he tried his hardest to stifle the never-ending cries leaving his mouth. Slowly he got his breathing back to normal and all that remained of his tears were hiccups.

After some time he managed to pull his wings away from his body, no longer shielding himself from Dabi’s gaze. Dabi repositioned himself in front of Hawks carefully noting the noticeable eye bags that weren’t as prevalent the week prior when they met for information exchange, well more Hawks giving information and Dabi giving nothing in return. He carefully swept Hawks’ hair out of his eyes and wiped a stray tear from his face before bringing his hand back. Dabi didn’t miss as Hawks slightly leaned into the light touches. After observing the other Dabi opened his arms for Hawks inviting him into his arms but not moving forward leaving the choice entirely up to the other.

With slight hesitation Hawks crawled into Dabi’s arms, tears immediately brimming in his eyes as he now realized in full force just how touch-starved he was. Feeling the tremors emitting from Hawks, Dabi wrapped his arms around the other and began to comb his hands through the blond's hair.

“It’s okay baby bird,” Dabi whispered to the other, Hawks whined in response and grabbed at Dabi’s shirt holding onto him as though he was a lifeline. The two sat there together in silence that was broken apart by sniffles every so often. Dabi hummed a song his mother once sang to him when he was young, a song he had almost forgotten but remembered in the moment.

“Don’t wanna be a hero, just wanna be a kid again.” Hawks meekly spoke, his voice cracking slightly as he hadn’t used it in hours.

“You don’t have to be a hero right now birdy,” Dabi replied, his humming coming to a stop. “I’ll take care of you, you need rest more than you need to be a hero right now.”

Had it been colder that night Dabi might’ve been a bit worried about the other falling asleep on him, but the cold night air was gone now, replaced with air that felt like a light blanket surrounding the two. Not soon after Hawks’ cries died down, soft snores followed, his hands no longer clutching at the others' shirts. Dabi let a genuine smile adorn his face as he held the other now propped up against the wall of the ledge.

“Sometimes all you need is to be held.” Dabi smiled once more before letting himself fall asleep with the other.

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stray-cattt · 1 year

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Tjfkfkkdlid thank you for helping me realize I was reblogging shit on the wrong blog <3

WHYWASNT I FOLLOWJNG YOU

LMAO IDK WHY WERENT YOU

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stray-cattt · 1 year

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LMAOOOO

WHYWASNT I FOLLOWJNG YOU

LMAO IDK WHY WERENT YOU

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stray-cattt · 1 year

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LMAO THIS IS MY WRITING TUMBLR

WHYWASNT I FOLLOWJNG YOU

LMAO IDK WHY WERENT YOU

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stray-cattt · 1 year

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WHYWASNT I FOLLOWJNG YOU

LMAO IDK WHY WERENT YOU

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stray-cattt · 1 year

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It’s the words left unsaid that linger behind your eyes, you think I can’t see them but I can hear them screaming at me

#writing #vent writing #aaaa

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stray-cattt · 2 years

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My face burns every time you hold me in your arms and play with my hair. Every time you play guitar, and every time I feel your warm breath on my neck. Every time you hold my hand and every time you touch my face. I don’t think you understand how you set my whole being ablaze with the slightest little thing you do. I want this to be more but I know it never can be, but these things don’t feel like the things friends would do. I’ve never had one of my friends hold me as gently as you or rub my arm as softly as you have. I’ve never had someone like you that I am quite literally unable to stop smiling around. I catch you staring at me, but you say you’ve just been looking and I caught you at a bad time, but neither of us look away when it happens. You always giggle at the things I do and you have the same response of nothing everytime I ask you why you’re laughing. I want nothing more than to kiss you but I could never ruin this beautiful mess we have. I can’t help but want to stay around just to orbit you, but I don’t know if I’ll be here next year and that makes me feel like every bit of me is shattering. I’d say if I could only kiss you once that would be fine, but I know that one cigarette is enough to get you addicted, and I fear I’d never be sober again.

#so basically #i have a lot of emotions and feelings #for a straight man might I add #i am in shambles

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stray-cattt · 2 years

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The feeling of your warmth and your scent drawing me closer is better than the way that cigarette felt in my mouth and warmer than the heat from the lighter.

#writting #drabble #yes unfortunately i am falling in love #with a straight man might i add

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stray-cattt · 2 years

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Separation of Body and Mind

A Bungou Stray Dogs vent fanfic, if you would rather read it on AO3, here is the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41801688

Summary: Dazai wakes up with feeling out of sorts with his body and mind, getting into work Kunikida takes notice of this and calls a certain redhead to help. (I seriously never get better at summaries)

Content/Trigger Warnings: this work includes a bit of self harm, feelings of nausea, dissociation, depersonalization, as well as age regression at the end to cope with stress. If any of these make you uncomfortable or you're worried they might trigger you, please do not read. If you plan to continue reading anyways just be sure to stop if you need to <3 This is basically a vent and a comfort fic that I wrote for myself since I dealt with a bad dissociation/depersonalization episode yesterday, that lasted basically the whole day. So yeah, lmao whips and nae naes the pain away by projecting it onto fictional characters.

Dazai stared at the mirror, watching the person staring back at him. Stepping a bit closer he further inspected his skin, the dark flecks in his eyes, and how his skin moved when he pushed and prodded at it. With tired eyes, he pulled himself away from the silent interrogation he was instilling on himself. A slightly distressed sigh left his mouth as he tried to grasp onto his consciousness, and feel less like a body moving with a hollow mind. But the longer he stared the worse he felt, and the more he felt he was going to lose the contents of his stomach.

Finally peeling his watchful gaze away from the mirror he snapped himself out of it, but only for the slightest second before his mind left his body once again. He felt like he was intruding on someone’s life by watching as Dazai’s body unclothed the dirty pajamas before stepping into clean ones for work. Work, right he has work today. With the very little he felt and was able to grasp he felt it would be a long day. A long day with many questions, none of which he wanted the answer, and none he was sure he would even be able to answer in this state.

He watched as this other version of himself took his body to work, with him tethered along for the ride, that ride being walking of course. It’s not as if he was fully out of his body, but just enough out of it to not feel as if he was making his feet walk and maneuver around people on the sidewalk. Dazai knew he was thinking these thoughts but he didn’t know if they were attached to the body he was inside of. He silently prayed to any of the gods as if they would pity him enough to fix his altered headspace back to its normal place of residence. But not much luck came his way as he walked in the doors of work. Dazai wondered how he had even gone up the elevator without realizing, and before he knew it he found himself at his desk absentmindedly saying his obnoxious greetings as normal.

Had he actually wanted to work that day, although unlikely he wouldn’t have been able to anyway so Dazai instead propped his feet up onto his desk, leaning back in his chair. Needing something to do with his hands, his eyes scanned the desk for something to play with. Soon they landed upon a fidget spinner he had bought a couple of years back, decided it would manage he picked it up and began to do what a normal human being would do with such an item. While playing with it he observed as this imposter interacted with everyone around him flawlessly, Dazai felt a pit in his stomach. Did they not notice the turmoil going on in his mind or did they all just decide to ignore it together? This pit was the most he had felt all that day, it caused his autopilot to falter as instead of bantering with Kunikida as normal he paused and looked down to the floor.

“I need Chuuya,” Fell out of his mouth before he had even realized he had spoken those words and heard them. His eyes widened a bit before he felt himself slipping back further and further into his mind, being less there than he was earlier. Kunikida noticed this and sighed before pushing his glasses up further into his face.

“You’re seriously messing up my schedule by not getting work done.” He sighed as he walked away from Dazai, deciding not to talk to him anymore. Instead of noticing all his thoughts were about his past partner. I just need someone to touch me, to know I’m real, to know I’m here, to know I’m not going to disappear, to know that everyone else won’t disappear, to know all of this is actually happening . Dazai’s thoughts continued in overdrive until a door slammed open and hit the wall.

Jolting up Dazai tore his gaze from the floor, that of which he had been staring at for some odd, 25 minutes give or take. His eyes felt as if they would start watering as they saw the redhead walk over to him. Before he knew what he was doing, he stood up and walked forward to meet with Chuuya before hugging him, praying he’d be grounded again. It wasn’t until Chuuya’s arms wrapped around his waist that he finally felt himself again. That he finally felt he belonged in his body and that his mind and body were no longer two separate beings. Dazai tugged on Chuuya’s shirt signaling the need to get out of the office and elsewhere. Chuuya took Dazai’s hand in his own and pulled him out of the office, staring down anyone that looked at them. This kind of situation in all of Dazai’s years of working at the ADA had yet to happen, but as soon as Kunikida described how Dazai was acting paired with what he said, the port mafia executive was on his way over.

Instead of waiting for the elevator they took the stairs instead and started walking toward Chuuya’s apartment once out of the building. He had a feeling that Dazai’s apartment wouldn’t do much to help him, and Dazai didn’t make any sign of protest once he realized where they were heading. Not a word was said the whole way there, but no words needed to be exchanged.

Thankfully Chuuya was familiar with Dazai in this state since it seemed to happen often in “the good old days.” Once they were inside Dazai sank to the ground, not even bothering to hang up his coat nor to sink to the ground in a place that was not the walkway. Chuuya looked at him with a knowing look as Dazai crumbled like a piece of paper that had missed the trash can.

Even though Dazai tried his best to keep his tears silent, sobs still managed to leave his mouth, making him more and more upset. Chuuya wondered how long it had been since the other male had allowed himself to break down like this. Using his gravity manipulation he carefully lifted Dazai from the ground and floated him to his bedroom. He placed him down as slowly as he could, as to not startle the poor man.

Before leaving to grab a couple of much-needed items for Dazai, Chuuya knelt on the ground and pulled a blue weighted blanket out from underneath his bed. He silently wrapped the weighted blanket around him and watched as Dazai’s shaking slowed down a little. Giving a small smile, Chuuya left the room to get the items he needed, or more so that Dazai needed.

With Chuuya’s touch and presence gone Dazai felt his grasp on his body slipping more and more. No, no, no, no, please, I don’t want to feel like that ever again . Dazai wailed in his mind although only the sounds of harsh breathing left his mouth. Dazai’s arms crossed and he hugged himself around the waist desperately grasping onto his sides. He felt his nails dig into his skin but they did little to relieve him. More choked sobs left his mouth as he waited in desperation for Chuuya. Thankfully he didn’t have to wait much longer as Chuuya’s figure finally walked back into the room.

Noticing the state Dazai was in, Chuuya rushed to the left side of the bed placing the hot chocolate down on the nightstand.

“I’m here,” Chuuya said as he climbed onto the bed, taking one of his hands and brushing back Dazai’s hair softly to soothe the other. Dazai melted at the delicate touch and climbed into Chuuya’s arm. Dazai felt a whine leave his mouth as he clutched onto Chuuya as if Chuuya was his lifeline. The other remained calm and just kept stroking his hair and giving him quiet shushes trying to calm him down. “It’s okay, I’m here, and you’re here. We’re both real as is everything around us, you’re going to be okay.” Chuuya whispered in Dazais ear, beginning to rock him slightly. With the stress of everything Dazai unconsciously brought his fingers up to his mouth and chewed on them, the action pacifying him. Soon there were only little hiccups left of his sobs and he felt okay enough to sit up in Chuuyas arms.

“Do you want some hot chocolate?” Chuuya asked, carefully taking the fingers out of Dazais mouth, grabbing a tissue, and wiping them off. Dazai nodded slowly to not worsen the headache that was starting to form from all of the crying. Tossing the tissues in the bin Chuuya reached over and grabbed the warm beverage along with the small cat stuffed animal next to it. Chuuya handed the stuffed animal over to the other first, letting him hug it and put it down in his lap patting it on the head. Dazai smiled before looking back up to Chuuya for the hot chocolate. Smiling, Chuuya handed the mug over to Dazai, who held it with two hands blowing in it carefully before taking a sip. Dazai slightly leaned into his chest still taking sips from the drink before it was empty. The redhead took it out of Dazai’s hands, placing it on the nightstand. Upon turning back around he noticed the other whose cat was now in his arms as he was sleeping softly.

Staring at Dazai with content eyes, Chuuya pushed back his hair and kissed him on the forehead before deciding he could use a nap too.

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stray-cattt · 2 years

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I notice the white hair growing more frequent on my dog. I pray she doesn’t die soon even though I’ve never believed in prayer. I wish to hold her as long as I live, but I know to keep her here too long would be torturous. She is only ment to live as long as she does, even though I wish she could live with me forever.

#I’ve been thinking about my dog #i don’t want her to get old #I’m gonna cry #/srs #:(#writing #Drabble #short writing #vent #vent writing

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stray-cattt · 2 years

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Sweet Dreams, Harsh Mornings

A Valorant Fanfic, once again. If you would rather read it on AO3, link is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40655328

Summary: Based off of the post by @honestlyitsjustsam on Tumblr that says "Goodnight ill be thinking of Cypher being in the arms of his dear wife Nora, laying down on their bed and then their cute daughter jumping to their bed to join and snuggle them but only for Cypher to actually wake up from his dream to his alarm sound on his cold and lonely bed surrounded by the monotone steel walls of the headquarters" So I will be using that as my summary :) Some Arab is used (like three words) Disclaimer tho, I don't speak Arabic I used google translate.

In my opinion, not my best work but wooo writing go brr anyway!

Baba: dad, أمي: mom, عسل: honey

Cypher smiled sweetly at Nora next to him, the sun rays illuminating her face with their gentle glow. Cypher slowly pushed her hair out of her face, carefully as not to wake her. A content hum fell from his lips, his smile growing wider, noticing the drool that was leaving his wife's mouth. He let out a soft chuckle, his eyes looking at her, so calm and serene. How did I get this lucky? Cypher asked himself, as he memorized every freckle that adorned her face.

The quiet morning either fortunately or unfortunately, did not last much longer. A quiet squeak broke the silence between the two. Cypher rose his head a bit to look at the source. The door was left slightly ajar, but no person was in sight. He was left in confusion until a small laugh was heard behind him. Cypher laid back down and pretended not to have heard a thing. Suddenly he felt a weight on him, smiling he turned to meet his daughter’s eyes. Giggles escaped out of her mouth filling the room.

“Baba! It’s time to get up!” She yelled slightly, shaking the poor man ferociously.

“Alright, alright, I’ll get up.” He sighed, putting his arms up in defense. Seeing as her father was awake, she then moved on to wake her mother. Before Cypher's arms could scoop her up and protect his sleeping wife, she pounced.

“أمي! Gotta wake up!” She squealed as she shook her mother.

“Hm?” Nora groggily said, a confused look written all over her face.

“Up! Up!” Their daughter said jumping up and down on the bed.

“Alright, I think that’s enough little one,” Cypher said, now standing. He made his way over to his wife's side before picking up the small girl. Said girl pouted at him and rammed her head into his chest in defiance, only earning a hearty laugh from him.

“Are you hungry?” He asked her, booping her nose, effectively distracting her from her pouting fit. She gave a swift nod before reaching out to her mother. Cypher shifted her to his left hip, turning to his wife, who was trying to blink the sleep out of her eyes.

“Good morning عسل.” Cypher smiled. Nora smiled back, getting herself out of bed. She only walked a couple of feet before pecking Cypher on the lips sweetly.

“Good morning love,” Nora replied, running a hand through Cypher’s curly brown hair. “And good morning to you too, trouble maker.” She said, turning her attention to the small girl in Cypher’s arms, ruffling her hair. The girl just smiled widely in response before sticking her tongue out at Nora.

“Now, let’s go get some breakfast. Shall we?” She asked, holding out a hand for Cypher to take. He grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together, bringing her hand up to his mouth and giving it a soft kiss.

The three of them all spent the day together from dawn to dusk. Starting the day off with creps and jelly all over a certain someone’s mouth, and ending the day with lamb, sauce yet again found its way all over a certain someone’s mouth. Who that someone was will forever remain a mystery. Cypher sat in his chair reading a book as Nora got the young one ready for bed.

“I wanna sleep with you and baba!” The girl whined as Nora tried to lead her to her room. Ears perking up at this, Cypher diligently placed a bookmark in his current place. He walked over to the source of the commotion with a hand on his hip. Crouching down, his knees popping in the process, he met his eyes with his daughters.

“Do you not want to sleep in your big girl room tonight?” Cypher asked her, brushing some hair behind her ear. She shook her head strongly before rushing over to him and clasping her hands around his neck. Cypher stood letting a sigh leave him as he heaved the girl onto his hip for the second time that day.

“She sure is a stubborn one.” Nora smiled before crawling into bed.

“Yeah, I have no idea where she gets that from,” Cypher said with sarcasm.

“Well, it certainly isn’t me.” She responded, laughing quietly. Cypher rolled his eyes in response but let a smile grace his lips. Carefully he laid down his daughter next to Nora before climbing into bed himself. Cypher flicked the lamp off, then rolled over to meet the eyes of his lover. But instead of being met with her eyes, he was met with her lovingly stroking their daughter's hair, she was humming a song lulling their young one further into sleep. Cypher’s eyes held nothing more than love for the two amazing women in his life.

“I love you, Nora,” Cypher whispered, not wanting to wake the sleeping girl in between them. Nora smiled and opened her mouth to respond, but a loud alarm startled Cypher out of his slumber. He jolted awake, still processing his dream as bits and pieces of it flooded into his brain. Cypher felt his stomach churn, wanting so badly to go back to his dreamland. He crossed his arms around himself as tears began to roll down his face. Cypher looked around him to take in his surroundings, the cold monotone steel walls staring back at him. A similar feeling of loneliness washed over him, almost as strong as the day he lost them both.

Cypher tried desperately to wipe his tears off but they just continued to fall. Deciding he wouldn’t be able to get himself together before breakfast he let them fall, no longer trying to stop them. He sat in his bed, staring at the wall, praying that he could go back to his family. But even if they were somehow alive, once you join the Valorant Protocol, you can never go back to the life you once had.

Cypher’s absence did not go unnoticed by the agents that morning, as the distinct smell of his tea was nowhere in the air. Sova made a note to himself to check in on the man and bring him a bagel once he finished his food. The other agents also made sure to check up on him even though he ensured them he was doing well once he had left his room. And if Cypher stayed up the next few nights working on projects to keep himself from dreaming of the again, that’s not my secret to say.

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stray-cattt · 2 years

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Bittersweet Smoke Breaks

A Bungo Stray Dogs fanfiction; if you would rather read it on AO3, here is the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40503804

Content/Trigger Warnings: Smoking, implied body dysmorphia, mentions of flesh burning, dissociation, crying, mental breakdown (only a little bit), and slight mentions of self-destructive habits

Chuuya slipped his shoes off beneath him, kicking the door to his apartment shut behind him. He stifled back a tear cursing underneath his breath slightly. He shouldn’t have expected more or less from Dazai, but secretly he had hoped he would’ve really returned him back to the extraction point. Chuuya straightened his posture and twisted his back side to side before doing the same with his neck. Tiredly he ran a hand through his hair hanging it on the hat rack next to him before making his way over to the counter. Shuffling off his jacket he haphazardly threw it on the counter along with his gloves. Koyo had helped him clean up and tended to his wounds after he returned to the base to make the battle report, so there was at least one less thing he had to worry about getting done before going to sleep.

Quickly Chuuya grabbed a glass and filled it up with cool water, he drank it all swiftly, loud gulps echoing in his rather empty apartment. Chuuya never seemed to care about making it more like a home than a house, for him it was just a place to rest and relax before getting shoved into the next thing that needed to be done. Placing his glass down he grabbed his jacket and gloves from the counter and carried them with him to his bedroom. Wearily he threw his jacket and gloves into the hamper and did the same with the rest of his clothes after stripping himself bare. Carefully taking off his choker he set it on his nightstand before walking into the bathroom that was attached to his room.

A shiver ran down his spine as his bare foot met the cold tile, but still, he moved forward. Before making his way over to the shower he quickly flicked off the lights, not wishing to see his body staring back at him in the mirror, nor did he want to have to stare at it as he washed himself in the shower. Chuuya quickly turned the faucet handle, close to the hottest temperature but not quite, not feeling the urge to feel his flesh burn underneath the water like he did most days. Stepping into the shower he felt the water pelt his skin, each touch slightly burning him. Chuuya went through the motions of cleaning himself, his mind elsewhere outside of his body. He quickly finished what needed to do and forced himself to refocus and be in the moment again, feeling the now warm water pelt him. He slowly crumpled to the floor of the shower, his warm tears mixing in with the water from the shower as everything came crashing down. His head hung low now, the water no longer hitting his head. The warm water pelting his shoulders, he felt every single droplet the water spewed out roll down his back and down into the drain.

Chuuya closed his eyes and focused in on the warmth the water carried in itself, imagining if just for a second that it was the embrace of another. Chuuya sat there hugging himself meekly as tears trekked down his face. But, warm water soon became cold, and he opened his eyes, reminding himself that he wasn’t truly in the hold of another. He was alone, sitting in his now cold shower, hugging himself, wishing his arms were someone else’s. Carefully he uncurled himself from the little ball he was holding himself in and stood slowly, not wanting to pass out from standing too quickly. Shutting off the shower he stepped out onto the mat in front of the shower. While drying himself he decided that before he made himself any kind of meal he would go out for a smoke and try to clear his mind. Getting dressed in a slightly oversized t-shirt and some sweats, shoving his pack of cigarettes in his pocket, he left his room and then his apartment.

Stepping out into the cold air, goosebumps ran up his arms, his hair not completely dry from his shower. Absentmindedly Chuuya reached for the pack of cigarettes and pulled one out before shoving it back in his pocket. He reached into his other pocket to pull out his lighter but was met with nothing but fabric. Cursing underneath his breath for the second time that night Chuuya kicked the railing in front of him.

“Looking for this Chibi?” A voice to his left asked. Chuuya quickly turned and made eye contact with the one and only Dazai.

“Why the hell do you have my lighter, and why are you even here?” Chuuya scoffed, storming up to the man and harshly taking his lighter from the others hand. He turned away and walked back to where he was originally standing in front of his apartment, leaning on the railing. With skill he quickly lit the cigarette and took a drag of it, letting the smoke fill his lungs before exiting out of his mouth. Dazai silently walked over and leaned on the railing next to him refusing to answer his question.

The both of them looked at the stars above them that shone brightly in the inky night. Dazai looked at Chuuya with concern in his eyes as he watched the other burn through his cigarette.

“Those aren’t good for you, you know,” Dazai remarked.

“Stating the obvious but not answering my questions huh jackass.” Chuuya rolled his eyes at Dazai’s statement. It’s not as though he was oblivious to the effects of cigarettes, they were just something he used only on certain occasions, those generally being of great stress. He had his wine and smoking and Dazai had his self-destructive habits, he didn’t see why Dazai was acting like he suddenly cared now. Especially after leaving him out in the open passed out after agreeing to take him to the extraction point.

“I pickpocketed it off of you earlier just in case we needed it, as for why I’m here, I was returning it of course.” Dazai smiled, facing Chuuya again. The other let out a sound of disbelief, not at the pickpocketing but at the fact that he supposedly forgot to just leave it with his stuff after leaving him stranded. Chuuya turned to meet his face opening his mouth before shutting it abruptly deciding not to say anything about it.

“Well mission accomplished, now you can leave,” Chuuya stated, giving Dazai a bit of a shove with his shoulder.

“Oh you know I can’t do that yet, there’s still one more thing left on my agenda,” Dazai responded, giving Chuuya a shove with his shoulder in return.

“You just came here to give me my lighter back, what more could you need to do here?” Chuuya asked, razing an eyebrow and the other man.

“Well, I’m so glad you asked Chuuya! But I can’t tell you it’s a secret!” Dazai exclaimed, the fake excitement practically dripping from his voice. Chuuya rolled his eyes yet again at Dazai’s tactics.

“Whatever it is just get on with it so I can go to bed,” Chuuya replied, all energy he had was sucked out by Dazai just being near him, like Dazai was some sort of energy vampire. Chuuya crushed the end of his cigarette on the railing before tossing it to the ground, he’d pick it up and properly dispose of it later.

“Aye, aye captain!” Dazai fake saluted at Chuuya before letting a soft chuckle leave his lips. Chuuya looked over to Dazai to be met with open arms and a grinning lunatic. He furrowed his eyebrows looking at the other.

“This isn’t some sort of trick right? You’re not gonna stab me, are you?” Chuuya asked hesitantly staring at Dazai, disbelief clear on his face.

“Would I ever do that to you Chuuya?” Dazai whined, his arms slouching a little bit as he looked at Chuuya with puppy dog eyes.

“Yes, yes you would,” Chuuya answered honestly, crossing his arms. Dazai’s smile no longer adorned his face as he now wore more of a serious look on his face. He walked over to the shorter male and gently made him uncross his arms before pulling him into a gentle hug. At first, Chuuya tensed, lord knows the last time he was hugged, or even touched this delicately. Slowly he felt his body release tension as he melted into Dazai’s arms. Dazai took one of his hands and repeatedly stroked Chuuya’s hair calming him down even more.

“There’s my Chuuya,” Dazai whispered, a grumble muffled by his shirt. Chuuya shook his head at his remark but decided to ignore him.

“I’m sorry,” Chuuya stilled hearing this from the latter, fearing his ears were playing tricks on him.

“I am you know, or well I guess don’t based off of your reaction. But, I am sorry, for countless things, past, and future. Leaving out the present, because I’m not sorry for this moment.” Dazai continued. Chuuya blinked back tears at Dazai’s words before gripping onto the others jacket and pushing their bodies even closer together. Dazai kissed Chuuya’s head softly and that was all it seemed he needed to stop trying to hold back his tears. It was a bittersweet moment, but it was in that moment, Chuuya finally felt at home.

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #soukoku #soukoku angst #chuuya #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #dazai osamu #dazai #bsd dazai #chuuya angst #chuuya needs a hug #hurt/comfort #apologies #bittersweet #chuuya needs a break #soft dazai osamu #kind of #chuuya smokes when he's really stressed (canon)

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