Junkie

Dazai was absolutely beaming at you over laced fingers. His posture all prim and proper in spite of his dire situation.

You quirked your eyebrow at him. Arms haughtily crossed over the front of your blazer as you leaned against the teacher’s desk.

“What are you looking so smart about?” you quipped, chin tilting up. “You do know why you’re here, don’t you?”

“If you mean getting to spend two hours staring at a beauty like you, then yes, I know exactly why I’m here.” The line slipped out as easily as breathing air. His hands extended in front of him like a camera and his exposed eye squinted. “My, look at the way the sunset frames your face. It’s like watching the painting of the Mona Lisa.”

Geez. No wonder this guy was so popular.

“Shut the hell up,” growled Chuuya. His foot slammed against the desk’s surface. “I’m missing jiu jitsu practice because you, stupid ass mackerel."

“Language,” you hissed with closed eyes. “And feet off the desk.”

This earned you a staredown with those fired up azure eyes, but eventually, Chuuya turned his head to the side with a “tch,” then dropped his feet.

“It’s bad enough you guys were punished with a week of detention. Don’t make it any longer.” Your hands flew up to massage your temples. “Why did they have to make me the unwitting babysitter?”

Dazai’s response slid in uninvited like leaves under a door. “Because you’re the student council’s beloved and dependable secretary?” he offered up.

“And you,” you snapped. “Stop talking before I wrap one of those bandages around that pretty mouth of yours. I bet you think you’re quite the charmer.”

The devilish smirk that crept onto his face warned you you’d fallen right into his trap. “Oh~ careful, secretary Y/n, you just called me pretty. It’s working, isn’t it?”

“No,” you blurted out immediately, despite the heat rising to the tips of your ears. “It’d be prettier if it stayed shut.”

Dazai made a zipping motion across his lips then tossed the imaginary key over his shoulder.

A loud scrape sounded further behind where Chuuya shoved his desk into the chair in front of him. “Oi, if you’re gonna punish me then at least put me in a different room than this smartass.” An accusatory finger jabbed toward Dazai’s direction. “This shit’s worse than just getting detention.”

“Then maybe next time you’ll think before ruining all the festival decorations,” you countered, your palms hitting the teacher’s desk. “The only reason I’m here instead of the teachers is because they’re all busy helping the rest of the council clean up the mess in the courtyard.” You jutted your chin towards the windows on the right overlooking said courtyard.

Stray strands of ribbon were tangled in the trees and strewn between the lamp posts. A handful of teachers were mopping around a spot where a red paint bucket fell over the concrete. To make matters worse, the paper-mache mascot was split in half, lying face down in a flower bed.

“It’s like a crime scene out there,” you mourned, “and after we spent all week making the preparations too.”

Dazai whistled when he followed your gaze. “Beautiful. The splash of red really ties everything together.”

“It’s this idiot’s fault. He started it so you should blame him, not me,” Chuuya huffed, sinking further down his chair, legs stretching in the most improper position possible.

“Is that so?” A skeptical brow raised. “Let’s take a look at the security footage together, shall we?”

You swiped the remote off the desk and summoned the projector canvas screen down with a click of a button. 

Behind your back, Dazai snuck away from his chair to turn off the lights. “For cinematic effect,” he whispered across the room to an enraged Chuuya.

Soon enough, the recording loaded on the screen.

You cleared your throat and began to narrate like a sports commentator, “Here, we have a lone Chuuya punching and kicking at the air behind the gym while there in the background, various student council members run around setting up decorations for tomorrow’s festival.”

“I don’t know a lot about sports, but I don’t remember jiu jitsu having any special kicks,” Dazai remarked.

“That’s because those are karate moves,” Chuuya interjected. “Idiot.”

“You look even smaller in 2x speed,” Dazai found himself choking on his own laughter.

“I’LL SHOW YOU DEATH IN 2X SPEED.”

Both were already on their feet until you snapped your fingers at the screen. “Eyes up, we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”

“Yes, Y/n-san,” they answered in unison, which somehow was another cause for glaring at each other before sitting back down.

Your announcer voice returned, “Chuuya continues this for another, say, five minutes before— oh, what’s this? Dazai appears around the corner and says something, which unfortunately the cameras don’t pick up, and then tosses a beverage to Chuuya, which hits him square on the face. A perfect hit!”

Dazai was failing miserably to stifle a laugh when Chuuya marched up behind him and grabbed him by the collar. “HOW COULD YOU MISS SUCH AN EASY TOSS??”

Dazai’s hands were raised in a placating gesture which didn’t seem to be helping his case at all. “In my defense, I don’t usually toss to someone of your height, chibi.” 

“You wanna go again? Alright let’s go,” Chuuya seethed under his breath.

A firm grip landed on Chuuya’s shoulder, tearing him away from the brunet. “I could have you kicked out of jiu jitsu, Nakahara,” you said in a sickeningly sweet tone that didn’t match your death grip. “Don’t test me.” Miraculously, he stopped resisting and you shoved him into the seat next to Dazai.

You unpaused the recording and proceeded to narrate, “Now here’s where it gets interesting. Chuuya swings… Dazai evades… but wait— Chuuya’s fist catches the support wire hanging around one of the poles. The whole string of banners comes down!”

Chuuya winced at the recollection. 

“Oho, better work on your aim, Chuuya,” Dazai chided.

Before Chuuya got a chance to retaliate, you pressed on, “The banners fall around Dazai like a second set of bandages, but as Chuuya was about to walk away, Dazai tugs on the wire and stops him from leaving. Outraged, Chuuya turns around and throws another punch straight at Dazai’s face. Unfortunately for Dazai, he was not quick enough to dodge this one.” 

“Serves you right,” Chuuya muttered.

Dazai gingerly rubbed the adhesive bandage across his right cheek. “So mean…”

“Anyway, this time, Dazai decides to fight back! He returns the punch to Chuuya’s jaw, and then…” you squinted at the screen. “Well, folks, it looks like our duo moved so fast that the only thing the camera picked up was a tumbleweed of arms and legs. This tumbleweed then proceeds to roll across the courtyard, tearing up every ribbon, prop and paint set in the way.”

“Those ribbons only fell because he tripped me,” Chuuya pointed.

“I was trying to steer you towards the pond but it seems I underestimated your negligible mass.”

“SAY THAT AGAIN—”

“Would either of you like to explain the exploding paper-mache mascot, hmm? Who caused that?”

For a moment, neither answered. 

And then Dazai added, “That thing is even taller than you, chibi, hehe.”

“Hey we’ve still got a perfectly good unused pond, right?”

All you could do was sigh, unpausing the video for the last time. “Eventually, you manage to knock over the ladder where a student council member is holding a bucket of red paint.”

The recording ended with them staring shamefully at the ground while the student council president scolds them. 

Said pair now exchanged half-guilty-half-agitated glances at each other while you merely pinched the bridge of your nose. “Now, because of you two, tomorrow’s festival will look depressing with half of its decorations torn up. We’ll never be able to remake them all in time.”

Chuuya’s eyes flickered up at you, scratching the back of his head when he mumbled, “Sorry… I know you worked hard on that, Y/n.”

“What’s this?” Dazai gasped much too dramatically. “You hit your head harder than I thought, Chuuya. We should rush you to the infirmary asap.”

“Y/n, please, just one punch,” pleaded Chuuya. “Then I’ll sit down all nice and quiet these two hours.”

He was staring at you with the most earnest ocean-blue eyes you’d ever seen. You had to shut your own before you sank in.

“Thanks for apologizing, but no.” The hope in Chuuya’s eyes died. “I appreciate it, really, but sorry doesn’t fix the courtyard.”

“Neither will us sitting here, but I digress,” Dazai sighed.

“Maybe not.” A smile slipped onto your face. “But it’ll give you something to think about. I know that sounds like heaven to you Dazai but try not to have too much fun. You will both spend the next—” You threw a glance at the clock on the wall. “—97 minutes sitting here in complete silence.”

“But—” 

“Not. A. Word.” 

“Can I at least go back to my seat?” Chuuya asked.

“Fine.”

“Complete silence” lasted all of twenty-five minutes.

All this while, you sat at the front with this weekend’s homework spread across the desk. Chuuya, who seemed to have exhausted all his explosive energy, dozed off with his head down. His arms were still crossed and his fingers twitched as if he were grappling in his sleep, and he was muttering something about “freaking mackerels" in his sleep. 

You supposed being the school's top athlete drained his body of much needed rest. Maybe that’s why he wasn't growing much.

When Dazai noticed, he whipped out a notebook from under his desk and made quick work of tearing up some of the pages. By the time you looked up again, a paper airplane arced through the room and poked Chuuya's shoulder. 

Poor Chuuya grumbled in his sleep and swatted at the spot, probably assuming it was a fly. Unfortunately for him, the disturbance was much more persistent than a fly.

Said disturbance wasted no time in folding up another plane and, tongue stuck out, sent it flying— where it hit its target directly on the forehead. 

Chuuya's eyes flew open. “THE HELL WAS THAT.” 

Immediately Dazai turned back to the front and twiddled his thumbs together, whistling like he wasn't the menace he was.

Chuuya found the plane at his feet, crumpled it into a ball and launched it at the mop of brown hair.

“Hey~ Chuuya, what'd you do that for?” Dazai whined, rubbing the back of his head as if it actually hurt. Knowing it was Chuuya who threw it, it probably did.

“You started it!” 

A pathetic frown dawned on Dazai's face. “Do you have any evidence for that?”

“Who else could've done it?” growled Chuuya.

“Y/n-chan, obviously.”

You merely shot him a deadpan look, and then returned to the desk where one hand was still furiously scribbling away integration by parts while the other held the calculus textbook open. “Yes, because I clearly have the time and energy for that.” 

Chuuya continued glaring daggers at Dazai but miraculously chose to stay in his seat. Before long, he was in dreamland again.

Until—

Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap.

His eyelids twitched. 

Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap.

A sharp inhale sounded from the other end of the room.

“Dazai.”

“Yes~?” he replied much too innocently.

“Did you pick up drumming recently or is your life’s only purpose to make mine miserable?”

The brunet merely spread his hands in a shrugging gesture. “Your problem, dear Chuuya, is that you think much too small. I don’t see why I can’t do both.”

Chuuya paused, pondering something with exquisite intensity. “Y/n.”

“Don’t rope me into this,” you groaned.

“The bastard’s smiling, isn’t he,” he asked as more of a statement than anything.

You took one glance at Dazai before responding. “Why, yes, it appears he is.”

Tap tap tap.

And because you knew better, you threw your notebook over your head and flopped over the surface of the desk.

In a single blink, Chuuya managed to lunge across the room and choke Dazai by the collar. Dazai had the courtesy of letting him get a few strangles in before he wrestled Chuuya back.

The catfight went on for as long as it took for your self-preservation to fully leave your body. 

Under your calculus notes, your eyebrow twitched. 

Once. Twice. Three times. 

Eventually, you dragged your will to live back inside, kicking and screaming much like the pair in front of you.

“BOTH OF YOU STOP RIGHT NOW BEFORE I ASK THE VICE PRINCIPAL TO GIVE YOU ANOTHER WEEK OF DETENTION.”

“But Y/n-chan, he started it this time!” Dazai disputed through a nose bleed.

“Don’t even start you damn—”

You drew in a sharp breath and clasped your hands together. “I SAID STOP IT, THIS INSTANT.”

Both of them froze as if they’d been paused on a replay. Then the weight of your threat sank in.

“Wait, you can’t do that! I have a competition next week, I can’t waste jiu jitsu practice time on detention,” Chuuya protested, hands dropping from Dazai’s collar.

“I literally could not care less.” You crossed your arms. “It’s bad enough you two had to ruin the festival, now I can’t even get my homework done in peace. Can you selfish brats think of anyone but yourselves for one afternoon?”

Despite all the fighting he’d done, this was the first time Chuuya looked genuinely injured. He averted your gaze to the floor and shuffled one of his feet.

Meanwhile, Dazai had the nerve to look remarkably pleased with himself. He studied you with a keen gleam in his eye, wiped the trail of blood from his nose, and then said in an even voice, “I’ve got an idea.”

“Like I said, I don’t care,” you huffed.

“It’s more of an offer, really.” Dazai rubbed his hands together. “You might want to hear this, Y/n.”

“No.”

“I know how we can get the festival ready by tomorrow.”

You hesitated, turning over his words like a figure-8 ball, trying to decide if he was bluffing. Eventually, you relented, “...I’m listening.”

A smile slipped onto Dazai’s face as he began outlining his proposal. “You know, I happen to know that Kyouka-chan from arts and crafts club is quite adept at scissors. She could help remake all the ribbons and string decorations.”

“You’re offering me one girl?” you snapped.

“Patience, Y/n.” Dazai winked. You suddenly understood Chuuya’s urge to slap him out of this room. “Whoa, where’d the sudden bloodlust come from?” He hugged his arms and shivered as if he heard that thought. Impressive. 

“Anyway, I also know that our dear poetry club president, Kunikida-kun is rather handy at paper. I’m sure he could rebuild the mascot in a jiffy.”

The knit between your eyebrows slowly relaxed, the appeal of the offer now revealing itself to you. But you let Dazai continue.

“Not to mention Kenji-kun can move tables with the lift of his finger. And Atsushi-kun would drop anything after I give him a call—”

“That’s not a brag, you sleazy dirtbag,” Chuuya interjected.

You held up a hand. “I’m listening.”

Dazai planted his hands on his hips. “In fact, I could call up the whole poetry and arts and crafts club here right now. We’ll have the whole place cleaned and ready to present by tomorrow, no sweat.”

How a person like him could have this much influence you had no idea. But the look in Dazai’s eye told you this was no joke. He was serious about getting the job done. Far be it from you to refuse.

You heaved a heavy sigh and stuck a hand in front of Dazai. “Has anyone ever told you, you should’ve joined public relations club instead?”

Dazai grinned. The look of someone who knew they would get what they wanted.

“All the time. Everyone wishes they had me.” 

You and Chuuya simultaneously rolled your eyes. 

Dazai’s hand moved but before it met yours, he added, “This is, of course, in exchange for cancelling our detention time.”

Your hand nearly dropped, but then your eyes flicked to the window overlooking the courtyard, where the student council treasurer was still desperately picking loose confetti out of a tree. Only half a dozen people worked on the scene. Any chances of them finishing all the work by nightfall were as good as gone.

“Even this week’s?” you asked tentatively.

Dazai nodded, loose brown curls falling across his forehead. “Well, can’t have Master Sensei here missing his practices and embarrassing our school, can you?”

“YOU’RE ONE TO TALK ABOUT EMBARRASSING.” Chuuya raised his fist but before he could think about using it, he gave you an anxious stare.

You squinted. Looked between Dazai’s annoyingly smug face and Chuuya’s unease. 

“...Deal.”

Your hand received a firm squeeze from Dazai. Chuuya was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“—On one condition.” 

Chuuya’s feet planted firmly to the floor again when you looked straight at him.

“You call over the jiu jitsu and karate clubs too.”

His jaw dropped open, an indignant look took over his face. “Hah? And why would I do that?”

“Do you want your practice time back or not?” 

“...Fine.”

It was at this moment that Chuuya should have known he was better off picking detention.

(...)

“What am I looking at?” Atsushi whispered as a drop of sweat rolled down his temple, stack of boxes in hand.

Kyouka followed his gaze but continued cutting around the chain of paper bunnies. “Dunno. Seems like they’re not gonna move though.” 

A train of karate club members passed between them and the spectacle, each struggling with uncontrollable laughter as they helped move props across the courtyard. 

Kunikida materialized behind them and knocked a rolled up sheet of newspaper on both their heads. “Will you two quit staring and get back to work?” he screeched. 

“But Kunikida-san, look,” Atsushi instructed, lifting his finger once the train passed.

The newspaper in Kunikida’s hand went slack, his jaw dropping by just a millimeter. Then he sighed, “Dazai… why am I not surprised.”

The view was, in fact, a billion dollar sight to behold.

Two fold-up chairs were planted in the middle of the courtyard for all to see. Sitting in them were Dazai and Chuuya. In the space between them, Dazai’s left hand clasped firmly around Chuuya’s right, while everybody else worked around them and watched.

Dazai flashed the brightest grin and threw up a peace sign when a group of passersby snapped pictures. 

Meanwhile, Chuuya looked like he was visibly holding himself back from spontaneous combustion. One hand was obscuring his face, shoulders positively heaving with tales of wrath untold.

You strode up to them with an exceptionally satisfied gleam in your eyes. A job well done indeed.

“So this was why you wanted me to call over my friends?” Chuuya hissed between his fingers.

“Mhm,” you hummed, tilting your head at him. “Much better than two weeks of detention, wouldn’t you say?”

“Y/n,” he pleaded once again, “why don’t you just let me help out with everyone else, huh? Wouldn’t I be more useful that way?”

You wagged a finger in his face and clicked your tongue. “Nuh uh, everyone agreed the most useful thing you two can do is stay. Right. Here.”

Dazai seemed to have taken this as a sign to lace his fingers with Chuuya’s and swing their joined hands back and forth in the air. Chuuya desperately began to twist and wriggle his way out before you interrupted, “If either of you let go, the weeks of detention come back.”

His arm went limp. It looked like Chuuya was physically trying to shrink into himself against all laws of physics. 

At this point, he was making incomprehensible noises you couldn’t even begin to decipher. If you had to wager a guess, it was probably some obscene mix of profanities and your name, as well as Dazai’s.

Speaking of, he was positively beaming from his seat.

“This is funnn, Chuuya. We get to sit back and relax while everyone else does the heavy lifting,” Dazai proclaimed, his free hand waving at the stunlocked trio of Atsushi, Kyouka, and Kunikida.

“I would not call this public humiliation ritual fun.”

You slowly bent down to whisper in his ear, “Maybe you’ll remember this next time you think about roughhousing on school property.”

In the setting sun, Chuuya’s face somehow burned even redder.

And yet at the end of the day, you had to admit you could almost see how Dazai could enjoy provoking him to the brink of insanity every day.

“No fair, Y/n-chan~ why don’t you hold my other hand and whisper in my ear instead?”

“Absolutely not.”

 Almost.

The ending was inspired by this one meme I saw years ago and somehow felt was perfect for this scenario >:)

Psst if you liked this, you might want to check out my Chuuya long-fic :)

Ah, Gambit... a charming rogue that's always been rather flirtatious.

He's a free-spirit, a mutant thief who is suave and already quite morally complex.

He's smooth talking, casual, flirty, and witty... His personality is meant to disarm those around him.

After all, a thief must have charisma to get away with what he does.

Despite showing off charm and smooth words... Gambit is also rather guarded.

He doesn't show his true emotions that easily, it would be a poor choice to show weakness in his line of work.

He conceals fear and insecurities with confidence and mischief.

Despite feeling like an outsider at times... he tries to never be cold.

He's incredibly loyal to those he considers close, his loyalty usually unbreakable.

Especially when it comes to love.

He loves passionately, calmly, and tends to value what his partner thinks.

It makes me think he'd be a soft yandere despite all of his confident charm.

He values trust and would give his partner space if they asked... for a little while at least.

He takes risks... yet is scared to harm others.

He wants to do good despite his criminal background.

Lastly, he's shown to be quite playful with his flirty behavior.

This is all I found on Gambit's personality through his lines and combing through wikis.

The issue I'm having is Gambit is a very loyal man.

So... making him yandere for someone is a little challenging... but I can think of a few ways I suppose.

Maybe it's something similar to the X-Men '97 issue where Rogue cheats on him and he finds out during the Timeline Entanglement?

The Timeline Entanglement is the thing that actually crashes the wedding in Marvel Rivals lore.

So maybe the two have to put it on hold... only for Gambit to either realize Rogue was unfaithful or he himself ends up getting attached to you... despite his morals.

I can't really see him doing the last one though.

Another thing to note is Marvel Rivals is a game dealing with other timelines.

So maybe this story is about an entirely different Gambit who fell for you instead?

There's all sorts of ways to explain him being a yandere for someone not Rogue if you get creative with that....

Regardless, I will be focusing on Gambit's general behavior in these HCs.

Going back to what I said before... I feel like he would be a soft yandere.

Usually extremely confident yanderes are overwhelming, often being more forceful with their obsessions.

Gambit would have his moments... but usually likes to play the long game.

He knows his charm... and he'll have you eventually... he just needs to convince you.

Gambit would make you come to him willingly.

He'd find a way to win your heart... then make sure you don't break his.

It wouldn't be hard for Gambit to hide his yandere behavior honestly.

He's a man used to hiding his intentions anyways.

He'd try to charm you, acting all flirty and playful as you work with him.

He'd probably give you attention exclusively... sure, he acts charming with others... but with you he's going out of his way to find ways to compliment you.

Then if you try to look closer into his intentions... he guards himself.

What do you mean you saw him staring at you?

He's just admiring you.

What do you mean you saw him acting tense around someone else around you?

He's just... stressed about the whole Timeline situation... It dampens the mood.

Gambit would always find an excuse for his obsessive behavior.

With how he talks... you may even believe it.

Sure, perhaps you shouldn't be trusting a thief's word...

But doesn't his attention feel good?

He definitely hides how he truly feels about you.

He comes off as a charming man and makes it a goal to sweep you off his feet.

You may even think that's all there is to it... that he's just a smooth talking charmer that steals hearts just as much as he steals artifacts.

He'd be a great partner... a great boyfriend... and even better husband maybe...

Yet he still knows how to mask his true desires.

He'll hide his jealousy... He'll hide the urge to hide you away from everyone around you both....

He'll try to be civil for you... but it irks him when you speak to those who get a little too close.

Oh... just imagine the conflict he feels if you get close to Rogue?

It would be so messy... especially if Rogue can tell he's not quite himself around you....

He's a man that knows how to use deception.

If someone tries to tell you he isn't a man to be trusted... or warn you he's become a different person than you think...

He brushes it off.

Why listen to them, right?

Everyone's just... stressed.

He's merely showing you that you have caught his attention.

Gambit focuses on essentially keeping you with rose-colored glasses.

He blinds you with a perfect relationship, acting all sweet while he spoils you.

Gambit also just seems like he'd be a soft/submissive yandere.

Sure, he's most likely a switch in my eyes... but he's very focused on you as his partner.

He essentially distracts you from any red flags he has by being super sweet.

He spoils you with gifts and affection, he listens to your every word... he essentially makes you doubt others.

He's good at putting on a mask and a show... knowing how to manipulate others with charm is important to him.

Considering he lost Rogue one way or another... he isn't letting another slip away from him.

The others... They can say what they want.

All Gambit cares about is making sure you never leave his arms.

They can accuse him of being possessive... perhaps too obsessive to the point he could hurt you or himself... but he knows he'd never hurt you.

He'd endure anything to keep you.

Even the scrutiny of others as he slowly tries to isolate you to stay beside him.

Gambit may even swap his usual persona around when others try to get between you two.

If someone tries to confront him about you... He'll either brush it off or get defensive.

Others, his peers who he's been working with to survive this Timeline Entanglement issue, tell him he needs to give you more freedom.

He refuses... you're meant to be in his care.

He promised to take care of you... to be the one to love you... the one to protect you....

So if his own friends are going to threaten the connection he's worked so hard to create after his relationship with Rogue collapsed...

He doesn't mind getting a little violent to defend what new spark he's found.

He hides it, of course he does, just like everything else that goes against his confident charm.

Whenever you ask about the blood and bruises he's gotten... He plays it off.

He just got into a little bit of a fight... It was because he was protecting you, honestly!

Now he's... in a bit of poor shape... Could you do him a favor and help him out...?

He just really likes your hands on his skin.

Meanwhile he's taken care of the little disagreement... nothing's going to get between you and him.

Perhaps he and Rogue weren't meant to be... some other may call this rebounding... He doesn't care.

Gambit has found a new sweet thing to spoil and adore... and you're so susceptible to him.

You don't mind that he's weaving some sweet nothings behind the scenes, right?

It's like he's making a cocoon of lies to trap you with him.

Sure, maybe you'll see past his lies at some point.

But he would give you so much before then.

He'll make you never want to leave him... even if you've accidentally made him a completely different person.

If you tried to run now... He isn't going to let you leave.

No, he's had his heart broken once before.

He won't let it happen again.

Gambit would probably beg for you.

He'll get on his knees and plead that you stay.

He knows how to charm... he knows how to tug at your heart strings... so even if he does something wrong..?

You'll forgive him.

After that he goes back to smothering you, acting like your watchful protector, watching you from a distance as he shields you away from others.

Eventually... He hopes you'll love him so much you'll listen to everything he says.

Yet if you feel he's too much... he'll back off for a bit to give you your space before trying again.

Gambit is a loyal man who ends up rebounding hard after losing Rogue.

Now he's more intense than ever... he wants nothing more than to be yours because your heart wants him.

Yet if his charm no longer works... if you're too smart for your own good and try to leave him despite everything...

He'll treat you like any good treasure he spots... and steal you away for himself...

you heard about the job in the break room. you had whipped your head back when you heard a coworker casually drop a very large number mid-conversation, claiming it was the kind of pay those 'underground' doctors got. at your reaction, he laughed. you learned that day that there were people—doctors, like you—who worked for dangerous people, in dangerous places, for an insane amount of money. the kind of money that you couldn't dream of seeing in a lifetime.

well, there was the question of whether it was worth it, working a dangerous job after throwing away your morals and silencing your thoughts, risking your life...and for what? money? even so, when you thought of the numbers...it was more than you'd know what to do with. the conversation lingered in your mind for a long time. it was too tempting, even though doing something like that would be equivalent to tying a noose around your neck.

but even if you were ready to sign yourself up for this job, where would you go to start?

the answer came to you in the form of a bleeding man under the moonlit night.

akutagawa was a mystery you couldn't stop thinking about since that first night. somehow, even when your instincts were screaming at you to run for your life, you forced yourself to rush in his direction. in that moment, he wasn't akutagawa, he wasn't a mafioso. to you, he was only a person teetering on the edge of death. a person you could save.

he glared at you with so much anger that you, for a moment, forgot the state he was in. still, he was weak enough that his voice didn't leave his body and he couldn't push you away. and that was enough leeway for you to work your magic with what little resources you had. while he groaned, you eased your nerves by talking to him about anything on your mind, hoping to drown out your worries and his apprehension. when you were sure he could survive until help came, you left without asking any questions. he still hadn't said anything, but you could have sworn there was a glimmer of appreciation in his dark eyes.

though you steered away from that route from then on, you couldn't avoid yet another encounter with the mysterious man from that quiet night. again, akutagawa was cut and beaten, skin splattered with blood and bruises. and again, you helped him out despite recognizing the silent warning he was sending you, with wide eyes and slow-moving lips.

"so you're the one who patched him up last time? pretty impressive work in such a short time, and without your tools."

the night you met dazai, there was a heavy silence in the air.

your suspicions from earlier had been confirmed with the new presence. akutagawa was mafioso, and this man, probably was too. you weren't too frightened last time when akutagawa was more corpse than living, but with this tall newcomer—who looked relatively unharmed—entering the scene, the familiar, chilling sensation of fear creeping up your spine came back with a vengeance.

you should have never gotten involved.

to your surprise, dazai doesn't shoot you dead. he doesn't take you in to torment you for your secrets, doesn't throw you over to be beaten beyond recognition and buried. he smiles—the sight looking equal parts attractive and alarming—and instead hands you a thick envelope. it feels as though there's a brick inside. he tells you it's from his boss, and then—

"—let's not cross paths again," dazai says, "because the next time you happen to find little akutagawa in need of your help, there won't be any turning back."

but of course, he lies in your path again, moonlight softly caressing him like a bloody angel.

"you..." he grunts out, the first words he's ever said to you. his gaze is unnaturally fond, and he tears open his shirt for you to access the wound.

"last time," he says, "you didn't talk." he doesn't need to elaborate for you to understand what he was getting at.

so you talk, if only because you're afraid of what he would do otherwise. this time, he isn't so weak that he couldn't crush you in his grip. the wound is not as serious as the last time, and he's awake through it all, watching you closely.

this time, you're brought in to meet the boss himself. some part of you is sure this isn't protocol, but mori tells you not to worry. you're not going to die because he realizes you would be more useful to him alive than dead.

"i'm a doctor too, you know," he waves around a scalpel with a disarming smile. you're not sure why he looked at you like that, or why he said that. if he was a doctor, why couldn't he do the patching up? why is he offering you this... opportunity?

however, once you heard he amount he was offering, your questions were silenced immediately. some things shouldn't be looked too much into. it wasn't everyday when you were handed a few month's rent as casually as though being offered candy, after all. when the discussion is over—through which, you just listened and nodded—the devil comes to escort you out. he has a sleazy quality about him you can't quite figure out, but you know better than to walk away from him.

"he was cheating, you know. went looking for you," dazai winks, "though i can't really blame him."

you choose not to reply, unsure of what to make out of his words. you don't have to worry about making conversation, however, because soon after, a new person walks past the two of you, before running back with a wild expression.

"who's that?" he demands, glaring at you as though you were a pest.

dazai chuckles and pulls you closer to his side, a bandaged hand coming to wrap around your waist. he grins at the other person in a way that told you he was trying to get him riled up and continues walking with you towards the tall doors.

"next time, dear doctor," dazai whispers, "patch me up. i'll gladly wait."

outside, akutagawa shifts out of the shadows, coming to walk beside you as a silent shadow. it creeps you out, but you have a feeling he meant to be comforting. you don't really want a mafioso following you home, but you had a crazy amount of cash on you and the usually plain nights felt more sinister than usual, so you duck your head and hurry your footsteps, not addressing the man behind you.

you begin to learn that akutagawa and dazai both did not care much about themselves when on a mission. it was shocking to you to see someone treat their body and life so callously, even though it was made abundantly clear that this was nothing out of the ordinary for either of them. the more you help, the calmer akutagawa gets, the firmer and bolder his grip, and the angrier his gaze when someone interrupts the two of you. dazai becomes less...cheerful, but you realize this was more genuine. he was quieter, more compliant instead of constantly asking you about the easiest way you could kill him while patching him up. but much like akutagawa, he demands more of your time, asking you to come in and check on his recovering injuries as well. redress him, help him clean up—what? it was difficult to do all this on his own!

the frequency of injuries start growing at an alarming rate, and you're called in even during the day, so much so that you have to quit your day job. nobody seems bothered by your increased presence in the hq, or the way dazai whines for you to hold his hand when you dressed his wounds. even akutagawa doesn't say more than a soft request, but this man cries and pouts until you coddle him like you would a child. a tall, murderous child. you weren't blind to his work as mafioso, even if he tried his best to pretend like you weren't terrified of him, like he wasn't lying on the bed because a target got to him before he dragged the life out of them.

and it only dawns on you, when you meet chuuya that there was more to fear than dying at the hands of the mafia.

you hadn't known that chuuya was curious about you since that first day, when dazai paraded you down the hall and refused to answer any of his questions. the only way he could satiate his burning curiosity was to carefully...observe you. how did an unimportant doctor get involved with dazai? chuuya quickly learns about your money problems, leading him to think of yours and dazai's relationship in a different light. and then he sees you with akutagawa, and oh—it hits him then. so that's what you were doing here.

still, when he noticed your determination and hard work, he thinks he can't let a good deed go unrewarded, though to you, the strange additions to your house feels more like a punishment. he leaves you expensive trinkets, as a way of thanking you for looking out for his coworkers. he doesn't realize your apprehension about consuming the wines and chocolates, or how you put away the priceless jewelry he leaves out.

the first time you're asked to check out chuuya's wounds—it being a very rare occurrence where he actually got hurt—you immediately recognize the desire in his eyes. it's the frightening sort of hunger that you know better than to feed. only, it's too late. unintentionally, just by existing in his orbit, you had already made him curious. still, you cannot do anything except what is expected of you, swiftly stitching him up and walking away after stiffly explaining how he should rest.

it was obvious to everyone how much danger you were in. only, nobody cared enough to risk angering the three who had set their sights on you. there was only so much longer you could avoid your problems, before they started taking dire measures. leaving a message about a doctor doing work for the wrong sort of people, telling your family where the sudden steady inflow of cash came from, threatening your loved ones' life.

"Huh?" Chuuya tilts his head towards you, eyebrows knit together as he did his best not to come off as mocking. He hadn't heard anyone say that at the sight of a shooting star in years.

You straighten up, cringing internally at the realization that you said that out loud. "Nothing, never mind..." You chuckle nervously.

He huffs, turning to stare at the sky again, really paying attention to it now. "You can't just let that go by- Do you really still wish on stars?"

You shift your weight on your feet, a little shy now. "Well, no... Not seriously, anyways."

He smiles. "You do wish on stars, then."

"It's... It's like buying a lottery ticket. Just a little bit of hope to carry. I don't actually expect it to work."

"It's kinda cute." He shrugs.

You clear your throat. Silence stretches between you. Another comet passes by.

"If stars could actually grant you their blessing, what would you wish for?" You muse, voice quiet and careful.

He opens his mouth, then refrains from saying whatever answer he had in mind, turning his gaze away to the pile of cigarrette ends on the floor instead.

Slowly, subtly, he turns small, sorrowful- his breath a little more shallow, his shoulders a little hunched. Emotions that would usually manifest as the strength to fight take him deep into his memories this time.

Seeing him that way makes you shiver. You place a hand on his shoulder. He immediately assures you "I'm fine." You retreat.

He absently tugs at his lovelock, then shakes his head. He's lost too many friends, there's no point in forming a sentence to call all of them back to this plane, to ask for just five more minutes and daydream on how to make them worth it.

"Those hypotheticals aren't for me, is all..." He glances back up at the sky, sighing as the immense blue envelops his heart.

"Hm?" Kouyou turns to you with an inquisitive smile. "A wish?"

"Ah... Yes. There was a shooting star, so..." You trail off, shy. She snickers.

"Wishing of falling stars... Do you believe in that?"

"No, it's just for fun... Sometimes I need a little something to give me hope, you know?"

Her eyes narrow warily. "I have never prayed to the stars."

You tilt your head, a grin on your lips. "Could I convince you to try tonight?"

You see it, just for a fleeting second, a crack forming on her carefully constructed mask. She digs her nails into her palm, consciously brushing off the pain from her gaze, turning to stare at the clouds running over the sky.

Would bringing hope back into her soul be too much to ask?

She closes her eyes, shrugging in that dignified way of hers. "I'm afraid not, my dear."

"Oh, miss, come on. You must have something you'd like to ask for." You pry gently.

She shakes her head, her cheeks curve with a graceful smile. "There's no point if it's impossible. And if it's possible, I'll do the work to get it." "But that the fun part of it. Even if it's impossible, sending your desire to the universe might bring it to you. It's a nice thought."

She sighs. The back of her hand, covered by the sleeve of her kimono, brushes your cheek with rare affection.

"It is..." she almost whispers. "... a nice thought."

"A wish?" Mori gives you an amused chuckle.

"Oh God, did I say that out loud?" You frown.

His dark eyes trail fondly over your face. "Well, if there's someone I'd expect to wish on stars, it's you."

He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. You glance at his hand, bare and long, adorned with battle scars and little moles. Holding the boss' hand sounds like something impossible, and yet tonight you venture to do it.

"Indulge me, Mori," You request softly, running your thumb over his knuckles. "What would you ask a star for?"

His sharp grin softens, the creases around his eyes a little more noticeable as he thinks of home.

He imagines fresh tea and walls filled with portraits, tall bookshelves illuminated by lamps, laughter and tenderness he hasn't allowed himself in years. Little wishes he can't afford scattered like the wounds on his body, reflected on the dancing girl he adorns with lace and mauls for battle when necessary.

"Who knows..." He wraps his fingers around your hand, gentle and wary, pretending for a moment that you're not as tainted as him. "Something warm, probably." His voice is low and thoughtful despite the dismissive words.

➵ Third piece for #fireflyjuly! following @monthlywritingchallenges prompt list!

➵ This must count for if I miss a day... Right?