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noose-lion · 2 years

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Temper, Temper

Fandom: Bsd

Pairing: none, platonic Dazai & Atsushi

It's familiar, the click of a gun as it's cocked. A sound Dazai has heard hundreds of times before, from both sides of the weapon. It's somewhere the detective always seems to find himself.

Right now though, Dazai would rather be anywhere else. Anywhere that isn't a fairly abandoned shipping yard by the port, with an armed assailant that currently has the upper hand.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

From his place face down on the ground, an unfortunate landing after being shoved, he twists his head to watch Atsushi freeze at the sight of the gun Dazai is sure is pointed at his back. His assailant chuckles, an easy, victorious sound. "Got you now, damn gifted. You wouldn't want your friend here getting hurt would you? Well, more than it already is."

It stings, being called an it , really it does. But it's not the first time he's been called that and it's quite a mild insult considering the hundreds of other biting words he's been subjected to. It's nothing to Dazai, but Atsushi's expression upon hearing the word, one of grief and bad memories, sparks an old feeling of rage in Dazai's gut.

"Don't call him that!" Atsushi barks, truly angry and caring little for the assailant's upper hand.

Dazai is impressed.

The gun-wielding man at his back laughs and Dazai can imagine the way he must look, head thrown back in malicious glee. He's hit with a sudden craving to rip the man's throat open with his teeth, a left over intrusive urge from his younger days. Dazai can't think of a good enough reason to feel bad about it.

A knee drops onto his back, knocking the air from his lungs as the assailant cuts his own laughter off with sudden ferocity. "No."

Atsushi growls, actually growls, a deep rumbling sound. He sounds like a hungry beast. Dazai wants to say something but he can't get the air in his lungs to do so.

"Tell me where the rest of you freaks are holed up, and I'll consider not killing this one."

Atsushi's angry snarl falters, growl petering off. Dazai meets his eye best he can and glares.

Do not tell this bitch a damn thing.

Atsushi didn't need Dazai's reminder, he doesn't even hesitate to firmly respond with a simple. "Never."

Dazai is struck with a sudden pride for the boy, though he is a bit distracted by the gun being pressed to the back of his head. The detective bites back a pained yelp as his assailant grabs him by the back of the neck and yanks his head up. The knee in his back forces him to an odd angle, he can feel the pull in his spine and the bullet graze wound across his side aches with the stretch, the muzzle of the gun is pressed harshly against his temple.

"Wanna run that by me again."

Dazai is finding this guy less and less amusing.

Atsushi is growling again, probably upset at how Dazai is being manhandled. The were-tiger hisses through gritted teeth. "No."

The poor thing is worried for Dazai, but fortunately won't spill the location. He's smart enough to know the assailant won't kill Dazai when Dazai is the only thing keeping Atsushi from attacking. Without an ability, being a dumbass with a gun isn't enough to stop a regenerating man-eating tiger.

Dazai grins at Atsushi (his teeth blood stained from an earlier punch to the face he'd received) and winks, the other looks torn between exasperation and tentative relief. "I feel a bit disappointed I'm the one you're torturing and you haven't even asked me one question."

The man laughs. "You call this torture?!"

His laugh sounds nervous to Dazai, the detective can feel a familiar smirk crack across his face. He can smell the proverbial blood in the water and he can't help but become giddy.

Ah. I might be just a tad bit punch drunk.

"No. I don't, but I'm sure you intended it to be."

The hand at his nape tightens, Dazai smirk sharpens. He has the verbal upper hand, the hunter with a set snare. Cool metal presses deeper into his temple.

He needs that gun pointed away from his head.

"You're a mouthy little bitch."

"And you're a lousy hostage taker."

Said hostage taker squeezes the back of his neck tight enough that Dazai's seeing stars. The gun is pulled away, only to bash him across the back of his head. Another growl escapes Atsushi.

Dazai clicks his tongue with a pained wince. "Temper, temper."

An angry grunt and Dazai's face is being slammed into the ground. Pain blooms through his jaw and he groans in response, he can practically feel the bruise forming.

"One more word out of you and I swear I'll blow your brains out!"

"Really?" Dazai lets a nearly hopeful lilt, "You'd do that just for me? How wonderful!"

"You're not taking this threat seriously!" It's a livid confrontation, but his captor sounds uncomfortable as most are when faced with Dazai's willingness to die.

And now, Dazai is starting to have fun. The detective chances another look at his pseudo apprentice, he seems worried. Perhaps Dazai is having too much fun.

His next response is said without the mocking tone. "You just don't seem to come across that threatening."

Dazai is watching Atsushi, he sees the grimace that the boy bites back. In any other situation it'd be a full on face palm. The man at his back is much more willing to express his great displeasure in Dazai's lack of fearful reactions.

He hears the gunshot boom in his ear before he can register the pain in his shoulder. It fucking hurts. Dazai groans in pain, forhead thudding into the ground.

"You shot him!" Atsushi shouts this with a renewed rage, his body shifting into a more feline form.

"Yeah? Well he's not fucking dead is he? And if you want him to stay that way Whiskers, you'll tell me the hidey-hole you freaks are hiding in."

As he makes his demand, his assailant knees him in the side, right in his scraped up side. The detective's pained cry is the metaphorical piece of straw that breaks the camel's back, Atsushi deciding he longer has patience for the man holding the two of them hostage. As a full tiger, Atsushi lunges forward, knocking the man off of Dazai.

There's a series of angry curses and the gun goes off, but Atsushi catches the bullet in an oversized paw, shaking the sting out in order to continue his defensive assault.

Dazai struggles to sit up, the hole through his shoulder wracking his body with pain. He's breathing harshly through gritted teeth, hand grabbing at his wound as an instinctual response to stem the bleeding.

Atsushi is shifted back to his half-form, their once captor gunless, pinned to the ground reminiscent of the way he had Dazai.

"Get you're paws off me-"

"Shut. Up." Atsushi snarls as he slams the man's face into the ground in a rare moment of violence. The boy is pissed.

The man is no longer struggling, and for a brief moment Dazai is sure Atsushi killed him. It's a short lived worry, the man's chest moves up on down in uneven breaths, and Dazai feels relief that Atsushi hadn't crossed that line.

The world spins.

Oh. I've lost to much blood.

Dazai blinks.

He's on his back. Atsushi is leaning over him, his face twisted in fear. Dazai trys to smile, trys to reassure him. He doesn't think it works.

"Dazai, we have to get you to Yosano."

"Nah, little tiger. I'm fine."

"No Dazai. No you're not."

Atsushi voice is quite, subdued, he's straining and Dazai thinks he might be holding back tears. Squinting, he's able to see that the boy's eyes are wet.

This feels familiar. Wrong, like he's not quite in the right place, but familiar.

Its- It's like-

A seagull squawks from where it's probably flying over the harbor, the familiarity shatters.

Atsushi slips an arm beneath his knees and another around his back, easily lifting him. He's strong. That too is familiar, but different then what he felt at first. Dazai groans softly as he's picked up, the movement pulling at his wounds. He's sure he's bleeding all down Atsushi's white shirt.

Dazai can feel as his eyelids grow heavier, as each slow blink becomes harder and harder to open back up. Atsushi has taken off in a run, jolting Dazai slightly with every stride. The tiger's heart beats frantically against his ear, he's trying to speak to Dazai, voice strained with panic and exertion. His eyelids continue to grow heavier.

Tired. So very very-

Dazai slips into unconsciousness as Atsushi continues to plead with him to keep his eyes open.

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shin-tsukimii · 6 months

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i've been doing something called whumbtober. i'm pretty far behind on it, but i just finished Day 14 (water inhalation). aaaand i knew what i had to write........ @yontoko ; @mt-v3 ; you'll enjoy this

“Fuck, my head hurts.” Maeko thought to herself as she leaned back in her office chair. “I should take some painkillers; this is getting intolerable.”

Suddenly, the front door of her apartment was kicked in, making a sickening noise.

“What the hell?!” Immediately, she got up from her chair and ran to the front door.

The person standing in her doorway was Sou Hiyori–one of her bosses at ASU-NARO. “Good evening.” She greeted with an eerie smile and a wave.

“Sou, what the fuck? You better pay for that!” She hissed.

A giggle escaped the other. “Oh, don’t worry. You won’t need that much longer.”

“What the FUCK are you talking about?”

“Ohhh, nothing.” Sou crept closer to the other.

Maeko took a step back as she felt her heart drop to her stomach. Without wasting any more time, she turned around and dashed to her bedroom, slammed the door, and locked it.

“That’s not gonna work!” The green-haired woman shouted from the other side.

In a panic, Maeko shoved her desk in front of the door and backed up.

After a few moments, she heard something inside the lock of the door.

That was when she realized: “She’s picking the lock!”

Thinking quickly, she opened her closet door, then slammed it closed. After, she quietly snuck into her bathroom, gently closed the door, and locked it as quietly as she could. Maeko could feel her heart pounding against her chest, as if it was ready to leap out at any second. She waited with bated breath.

After a few moments, she heard the desk she moved topple over, then not long after, she heard her closet door creak open. Then a little bit later, it closed again.

Internally, Maeko was hoping that Sou would go away after checking the closet. The longer this went on, the louder her heart banged in her ears. She took a few steps backward. The back of her heel hit the bathtub. Instinctively, she turned around. To her shock, it was full. “Who the hell?! Was it Sou?!”

Right as that occurred to her, she heard the doorknob jiggle in place. Then she heard the lock turn. Maeko’s heart momentarily stopped. Then she heard it click out of place, and Sou opened the door.

“Hello again.” Sou greeted with a cheerful and eerie grin on her face. “I was wondering where you were hiding. I’m surprised you didn’t slip underneath your bed!”

“I don’t know what you’re planning, but get away from me.” Maeko demanded.

Instead of replying, Sou simply stepped closer.

“Get the fuck away from me!”

“I don’t think I will!” With one swift movement, Sou grabbed Maeko by the throat and slammed her head against the nearest wall.

Shrieking in pain, Maeko fell to the tile floor. “You bitch!” She yelled out. The room was spinning.

“Why thank you.” Sou grabbed Maeko by her light blue hair, pulled her up, then shoved her face into the tub full of water.

“NO! NOT LIKE THIS!” Maeko’s thoughts were running wild as she flailed frantically. She tried elbowing Sou, but all that accomplished was making her elbow hurt; Sou was made of metal after all. She felt her lungs screaming for air.

From behind her, Maeko could hear a very garbled and sadistic laugh. “Poor Maeko!” Sou cackled. “Just like her friend!”

Maeko could feel the water entering her lungs. All of her desperate attempts were for nothing though. Eventually, her body couldn’t take it anymore. Her eyes closed for the final time.

Sou waited a few minutes before letting go of Maeko’s head. Maeko had long since passed away, but Sou wanted to be 100% sure the job was finished. “Nice knowing you, Ms. Teruya.” The green-haired woman said as she proceeded to leave Maeko’s apartment, leaving the teenager’s head submerged underwater.

#🧣 Out Of Code #✿ Rileys Art

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yarn-dragon · 7 months

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Whumbtober Day 5! Mars is so hungry

#whumptober 2023 #no.5 #pinned down #OC #fic #gore tw #blood drinking #Willowtide arcane academy #WAAX campaign #alice lightgaze #Mars #vampires #au #enjoy!

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proudfreakmetarusonniku · 2 years

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“disctober” i am instead participating in primeternity. it is where I make c!primeboys content for eternity. i have been doing this challenge for two years and it is wonderful.

(all jokes aside i’m already doing whumbtober and don’t have the spoons for two october challenges at once. can i get like a honorary bonus tho since it is still 31 days of c!primeboys)

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catlady5001 · 2 years

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now that it is november i am opening whumptober prompts!!

yes they are on a case by case basis

yes they can be as detailed/non-specific as youd like

no i take no critism

#ask bait #prompts #please send prompts #whumbtober #i need something to write Please

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janfraiser · 5 years

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Rating: Teen and Up Audiences (for MCD and dark themes)

Warnings: Major Character Death

Category: F/M

Fandom: Psych

Relationships: Juliet O’Hara/Shawn Spencer, Madeline Spencer & Shawn Spencer, Henry Spencer/Madeline Spencer, Shawn Spencer & Original Child Character(s)

Characters: Shawn Spencer, Madeline Spencer, Henry Spencer, Carlton Lassiter, Original Child Character(s)

Additional Tags: Whumptober 2019, whump, (duh), Explosions, Family Feels, Flashbacks, Parallels, Angst, Angst with no happy ending, not proofread at all

Words: 1189 (complete)

Summary: In 1971, Madeline Spencer waits up with her infant son for her husband to escape a hostage situation.

In 2018, Shawn Spencer waits to see if his wife has survived a warehouse explosion, with only his mother and two small children there to comfort him.

#whumbtober 2019 #whumptober no. 2 #explosion #mcd #psych #my stuff #my writing #shawn spencer #madeline spencer #carlton lassiter

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madasthesea · 5 years

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If you delete any of your fics I haven’t gotten to read yet I will CRY. I was saving it for a six hour car ride tomorrow!!!

Me, looking at my 800 word fic: uhh.... you might need something a little longer...

Don’t worry, I won’t delete! It is just a little embarrassing when you have literal queens on either sides of your fic!

#also the one I just posted today was part of whumbtober so you've probs already read it #but anyway #loubuttons

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englie · 6 years

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4. “No, Stop!”

The mission was a failure. Both heroes have been captured and hold hostage. There were reports for 2 villains, overpowering the sidekicks of a hero company. But as Present Mic and Eraser Head arrived, no sidekicks were there. They simply vanished, hopefully, so they thought, they ran away. But to no one of the two came once the thought that it would be a trap. A trap set up to catch them and use against the U.A.

Here they are, tied down to chairs, muffled, blindfolded and already injured by some heavy punches of one angry villain. It was silent. they were left alone in the room, a simple mistake of trying to escape would be fatal. Too many villains overpowered them. They had a goal - though, what it was is unclear.

The door opened, 4 persons stepped inside, one with a camera, to moved Eraserhead away from Present Mic and set up the camera infront of him. They took the blindfold off of Present Mic. “You ssshould watcchh too.” said the one lizard like woman. Slightly hissing at his angry gaze. The green eyes darted to his friend, which chin was lifted and a knife was set on his neck. “We are live in..3..2..1. Now.” He tried and tried to escape, wiggled in his chair, tried to use his quirk as much as he could. But til the very last second of the speech from the main villain there was no chance to rush to aid his friend. Only as the knife began to cut the flesh, a muffled screaming was heard from Mic. “No, Stop!” could be clearly heard.

#whumtober #finally able to do them #Aizawa #Eraserhead #tw: death #BNHA #Present Mic #Hizashi Yamada #Character death #erasermic #more later for whumbtober

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iamnmbr3 · 2 years

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Loki Fic Rec List 10

Imagined Slights by eirtae (words: 8,825 | rating: T | Gen)

He wasn’t ever certain when he’d first realized that he was always given his slice of apple second, but he did know that he’d frowned, brows knitted together as he stared down at his slice to keep from looking at Thor. It was a silly thing to care about, and likely untrue in any case. A thing to dismiss, for it was, perhaps, just circumstance; they only spent afternoons together like this once a month, and so perhaps he’d forgotten the times when he’d been given his half first.

Loki: the Rewrite by Ascell, Flyingbooks42, Hydrophius, ILoveDragonsALot, Loki_Lover_1234, Stellophia, willow_of_stars, wnnbdarklord, worstloki (words: 31,806 | rating: M | Gen | WIP )

He was afforded not even a second to process what had just happened. There was no moment to think, no moment to consider the potential consequences, no moment to hesitate: all he knew was that the Tesseract was right there, at his feet, before his eyes, within his reach, that its infinite power called out to him with an overpowering, pulsating hum that brilliantly sang of hope and freedom and opportunity and vengeance.

The decision practically made itself.

Or: the rewrite to Loki (2021) you have all been waiting for.

That made me first your slave by fairychangeling (words: 817 | rating: T | Thorki)

"No free Jotun here,” he says, and he says it so mildly that Thor knows it bothers him.

Loki is never mild.

carry these bones by limerental (words: 5,043 | rating: M | Thorki | CW: Major Character Death)

Decades after his brother’s death, Thor drags Loki’s body out of a fjord in Norway.

He carries him home.

A Matter of Principle by Iamnotreal (words: 5,355 | rating: T | Gen)

Thor leaves half-dead Loki on Stark Tower's doorstep. Miscommunications and feels ensue. You know the drill.

Whumbtober 2021 Day 6. Hunger

Mutationem Fortunae by fairychangeling, fallenappleinc (words: 1,600 | rating: T | Thorki | some dark themes)

Once, Loki was a slave in the Odinson household, but now he is a powerful freeman.

He uses his power and his riches to buy the one thing he desires - Thor Odinson.

whoops by eirtae (words: 6,001 | rating: M | minor Loki/OMC)

While away at Vardalholme studying seidr as an adolescent, Loki discovered girls. Then, much more distressingly, he discovered boys. or, Local Situational Bisexual Shocked to Discover Real Bisexuals Exist

Our One True King by fairychangeling (words: 3,075 | rating: E | Thorki)

Sif has always idolized Thor, her future King, but for Loki she feels nothing but contempt. Hoping Thor will realize his brother is untrustworthy seems pointless until one evening when Loki oversteps the boundaries of Asgardian society.

Staring at Ravens, in Hindsight by eirtae (words: 3,433 | rating: T | Gen)

The day of his birth passed in the year following Loki’s death without much fanfare; a quiet, awkward dinner with family was enough, and did little but serve to remind them all of Loki’s absence. The day of his naming was a larger celebration, a feast that would usually include guests from other Realms but without the bifrost was nothing more than a collection of friends, shield brothers, and the courtiers that Thor had a marginally higher tolerance for. The day of his god naming Thor shunned, allowing a celebration to happen but refusing to attend, for it was also the day of Loki’s god naming, and if Loki could not be there, neither would Thor.

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9

#fic rec #fic #Loki fic #lLoki fic rec #gen #thorki #thunderfrost #Loki

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aceghosts · 2 years

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💖 🖊 👖 💻 ⏰ for fic asks??

Thank you for the asks! I had a lot of fun answering these.

💖 - What do you like most about your own writing?

I really think I do a good job with dialogue and description. For dialogue, I feel like my characters talk naturally and have pretty distinct voices. For description, I feel like I give people a good idea of the scene, that they know what is going on. I also like to think that I'm good at capturing the atmosphere of a fic.

🖊 - Post a snippet from a current WIP.

Have another snippet of the Grace Prompt I posted earlier today:

Grace feels Blue’s fingers trace her shoulder blades; the pair squished into a tiny bed. The two are hiding in a small shack, trying to catch some sleep as they outrun John’s Chosen. Grace’s eyes close, feeling some sort of peace for the first time in a few days. It’s so nice for it to just be the two of them together without anyone shooting at them. She feels Blue’s fingers stop, and her breath catches in her throat. Grace knows that scar, fresh unlike the others from Afghanistan.

The bed squeaks as Blue shifts. “Grace,’ they ask softly, ‘how did you get this scar?” The memories immediately overwhelm Grace as she thinks of that night.

👖 - Are you a planner, plantser, or pantser? Is it consistent?

Plantser! This tends to be pretty consistent for me. I usually am more of a pantser when it comes to prompts. For one-shots or longer fics, I’ll usually come up with a summary or a list of plot points and follow that as my guide.

💻 - Do you do research for your fics? What’s the deepest dive you’ve done?

It depends on the fic. If it is a fic that focuses more on a reinterpretation of a scene or involves a matter that I’m familiar with, I won’t really do research. I might rewatch the scene, but I don’t need to do much research.

For other fics, I’ve had to do some more research. During Whumbtober, I had to do research on CPR and cauterizing wounds. I fell down a bit of a rabbit hole for both.

⏰- Do you spend more time reading fic, writing fic, or do you do both equally?

I definitely write more fic. I do try to read fic, but I’m pretty slow about it lately. (In general, this year has really tanked my reading ability, lol.)

[Fanfic Ask Game]

#kate answers asks #thank you #the blue fic tag #i don't know that I've ever truly done a deep dive for a fic #but that might have to happen in the future

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obsessivelyloved · 2 years

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Yessss love letters!!!

I’ve actually done a couple! Two for Yantober and I think Whumbtober, and a follow up.

Day 3: Love Letter

Follow up to day 3

Reader responding to Tord

and!!

Love letters from my Body Swap au

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noose-lion · 2 years

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No Where To Run

Fandom: Bsd

Pairing: soukoku hinted at

Dazai skids around the corner, slamming into the corner of the wall. He ignores the pain that flares in his shoulder, hissing through his teeth, as he rights himself and continues on.

It's as if the hallways never end. Either that or he's going in circles, round and around, same path as before. It's likely, and Dazai hates it.

Damned rat.

This was all Fyodor's fault. One invitation to Russia to discuss the manner of things, bait for an obvious trap that Dazai purposely took, and now he was quite literally being hunted.

He was alone, and that was his fault. No backup, no partner waiting in the wings. This wasn't an Agency sanctioned mission, and Chuuya sure as hell wasn't going to come to his rescue. Not this time. Not after a fight that ended in a wrecked apartment and Dazai back in the Agency dorms. Chuuya wouldn't know where he was, he'd just assume he was hiding from his problems as usual.

So here Dazai was, a mission all his own, one he thought he was prepared for. Thing was, while he was expecting a trap, he had decidedly not been expecting to be the bait of said trap. Oh for sure, Fyodor had meant to catch him, but Dazai was more or less the prize, an offering on the table as part of a negotiation between Fyodor and a possible ally.

He'd had snuck into the rat's hideout. An underground sprawling nest of a former nuclear bunker in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by ice, snow, and wind that's chill sliced into his face with personal dedication. Even with the heavy clothing, the detective had been quite literally freezing when he finally reached the base, so much so he was afraid that the chattering of his teeth would give away his position lurking in the vents.

He wasn't a fool. He knew Fyodor's invitation was anything but amicable. That's why he had snuck in to scope the place first before ever revealing himself, looking for just a little more on what the russian was up to. While Dazai had obviously known Fyodor had been prepared for his tiny bit of recon, the two of them being evenly matched in these mind games, he hadn't expected the sudden change of rules.

Dazai wasn't Fyodor's opponent in this particular game, just a pawn to be played.

And played he was.

He had stumbled across Fyodor in the midst of a negotiation with a crime syndicate known as Bane. A crime syndicate run by a powerful ability user with the skill to absorb other ability users skill.

He simply had to cannibalize them.

Bane's cannibal leader was sporting a nasty burn scar that ran down and across from the bottom of his right ear to his left collarbone. A little souvenir Dazai had left five years prior during their last meeting, when he set the man's face on fire.

Dazai had a total of five seconds to realize the severity of the situation he had gotten himself into, before Fyodor was smirking as he revealed the Demon Prodigy that he had scurrying around in his vents.

That's when the shit hit the fan.

He had been quite forcibly removed from his hiding place. A struggle, for Dazai as much as he wanted to die, had no intention of dying as part of a seven course meal to a crazy ass gang leader with a grudge. He's just thankful that said crazy ass cannibal gang leader considers himself sporty. That he figures himself a hunter of 'elusive game', because now at least Dazai has a point zero one percent chance of survival over his former zero. He was 'released', roughed up but relatively unharmed, given a five minute head start to run.

The detective skids around another corner, this time not running into it like he did the one prior. He's most certain that it's been longer than any five minutes.

They'll be after me now.

Irony and fate have it out for him today, for just as the thought slips into his mind he hears the distant sound of barking dogs.

Dear fucking god, please let me be hearing things.

Dazai feels as if pure liquid nitrogen has been shot into his veins. His body freezes, a response he had thought to have been long conditioned out of him. The braying of the hounds seems closer now, ringing in his ears with a strange determination. Dazai feels fear wrap a fist around his heart and yank. His hands itches to reach for the gun tucked away in his waistband, itches for the knives in his sleeves.

Why dogs? Why'd it have to be fucking dogs?!

He picks up his pace, the sooner he could leave the base far behind, the better. If only he could just find the way back out of this labyrinth. Then he'd simply have to get back to the snowmobile he left just over the ridge and jump on that to get the fuck out of here. The mission was a bust, had been since he'd sent himself on it.

They're close enough behind him now that he can hear human voices joining the barking dogs. He can feel panic curled in the back of his skull, coiled like a rattlesnake shaking in irritation. He wills it away, adrenaline sharpening his vision to a bright accuracy, the walls seem an even paler white. They mock him in their unending sameness, a blinking red light at the next split in the hall smacks him in the face with a sudden realization.

Security cameras.

The fucking security cameras were on, their lights flashing at him with malicious glee. No matter where he goes, the security cameras know exactly where he is. He's already been cornered. Dazai is simply being toyed with. He's a rat in a maze, a fish in a bucket.

Fyodor, you fucking bastard.

Dazai continues with a new urgency, gun in hand, shouting voices and barking hounds at his back. He rounds every corner ready to kill, expecting Fyodor or a grunt. He thinks this is a situation in which the Agency would be more than okay with lethal force. He knows he's drawing closer to the side door that he slipped in through when he passes the slightly tilted cover he climbed through to get in the vents.

He knows Fyodor is most definitely waiting for him, prepared for a near desperate Dazai. If he wasn't so lost and turned around, he'd find a different way out of the never-ending halls. As it is, he only has one way forward.

As Dazai approaches his exit, he's on edge. Knuckles bone white where they grip his gun, body growing more rigid with the ever increasing volume of the hunting party after him. His heart beats behind his eyes, sweat trickles down his back. He pushes through a set of doors, sighing in slight relief as it dampens the barking.

"I'm shocked at how much your control has slipped."

It takes his many years of experience in similar situations for Dazai not to jump at the sound of the russian's voice. Instead the detective casually turns his head to grin nonchalantly at Fyodor as he strides into view.

"Ah, Fyodor! A pleasure as always."

He receives a distracted hum as a reply. "Is it perhaps the old friend that's got you rattled?

"Oh him? Nah, he's harmless."

"That's right, you've beat him before. But then again, you did have your partner to do all the heavy lifting."

Dazai actually feels a bit slighted with that remark, for he's the one that set the fire, but he remains silent.

Fyodor grins. "If not that, then what?"

A loud harsh barking is suddenly right behind Dazai. Heart dropping he whips around, gun at the ready, to find nothing but a wall mounted speaker.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"Oh? It's the dogs is it?" Fyodor is smug.

Dazai seethes. "What do you want, Fyodor?"

He's facing the russian again, so he sees the little, almost real smile that is bared. "Nothing. Well not from you at least."

Dazai's brow raises with disbelief.

"No really, you just happen to be collateral."

There's no time to respond, for the door but open with the hunting party. Dogs charge Dazai, he freezes in fear, limbs locked. Even as the animals are called off, and men approach, he remains still. Not firing a single shot as he's hit with a tranquilizer and subdued.

As he's shoved to the ground, arms forcibly bound, harsh hands holding him in place. Dazai is hit with a sudden feeling of defeat.

Fyodor had won.

—---------------

He awakes with something digging harshly into his back, slumped over, chin to his chest. There are voices. Dazai hears them muffled, as if they're coming through water.

"His ability won't transfer to me. It'll just nullify."

"Then we will just have to keep him alive till we've finished."

Dazai has just enough mind to realize the voices are speaking of him.

"What of the partner? If this one's still alive, it's only a matter of time till the other one collapses the building on our heads."

Dazai can appreciate the effect Soukoku has on the mind of their enemies. They are smart to be wary.

"No one will know where he is until it's too late, he has no way to contact anyone. His ability works without any conscious effort, we'll keep him caged and drugged, so chances of escape are minimal. The hardest part is almost over, the rest will fall into place once we take out the executive."

"You better be right, Dostoevsky." The voice disappears as footsteps recede and a door opens and closes.

"You can stop pretending now."

Dammit.

Dazai pulls himself up off of what he's now realizing are the bars of a cage, to glare down (is he hanging from the ceiling?) at Fyodor through thin bars. "What do you even want?"

"Nothing from you especially. You're just a vessel, a tool. And of course in the end you'll be a gift to our mutual friend that just left. I think he's still upset over the scar."

The two watch the other in a battle of will, one trapped in his hanging cage, the other free. Fyodor grins like the cat who caught the canary, spinning on his heel with a wave of his hand. "Don't fret, I'm sure he'll be gentle when this is all over."

The russian leaves, with a slam of metal doors. Dazai is left alone, in a mockery of a bird cage.

He's been caught. And this time, no one will be coming for him. Not Chuuya, not the Agency, not anyone.

He is alone.

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