#shadyteacup

Dazai sighed as he sipped his coffee. It seemed so bland. The temperature had gone cold enough for him to want to dump it in the sink. The more he tried to drink it, the more he felt nauseous. The irony? He once loved this coffee. He swore by it. Even bragged about how amazing it is to his coworkers at the ADA.

But now, he couldn’t bring himself to drink even a sip.

Maybe it was the person who made it that got him to like it back then. 

Or maybe, it was this same person who made him dislike it now.

He gazed up from the edge of the cup and saw you, sitting across the glass table, sipping your own cup. How could you bring yourself to drink that?

He watched you read the journal, focussed and unknown to his bitter thoughts.

“Y/n.”, he said, trying to get your attention.

You didn’t respond, only shifting your head slightly in his direction.

“Y/n.”

You hummed then, looking for a pen to mark the sentence you were at.

“Y/n.”

You sighed now, looking up. You could find that part again later.

“Yes, love?”

Dazai cringed at your words. A few days ago, he would’ve beamed at the thought of you calling him your ‘love’. But now, it just seemed fake.

Not on your end though, you meant it. He just didn’t love you anymore. He wondered if he ever loved you, or if it was some sick infatuation simply because he was bored.

“Let’s break up.”, he said, making you pause mid sip.

“What?”, you asked, bewildered.

He remained stoic, unmoving, as he said, “You heard me. Let’s break up.”

You slowly kept the cup down, and nodded.

“Okay. Let’s.”

He blinked, confused. You finally found that pen, hidden away under the napkins. He watched as you continued to mark words on the journal, flipping through the many pages to read a different part.

“That’s it?”, he scoffed.

You looked up again, confused.

“What’s it?”

“That’s it? You’re okay with breaking up? Just like that?”, he asked, offended.

“Why’re you getting worked up?”, you asked, bemused.

“Did you even love me? Or was this just a sick game to you?”, he asked, a scornful look on his face.

“Are you mentally okay?”, you asked, genuinely worried.

“You broke up with me. So why are you mad?”

He laughed bitterly, slamming his hands on the table.

“That’s it then? You’re okay to just break up? And now you’re turning it on me? Really?!”

You blinked at him, and said slowly, “Are you not understanding? You, broke up, with me. You did. Not me.”

He scoffed, offended at how you seemed so unbothered. “You’re disgusting.”

"Were you having an affair? Were you cheating on me?"

You scrunched your brows, baffled at his accusations.

"What's gotten into you?"

He laughed, feeling sick.

"How are you so calm then, huh? You wouldn't be so calm and so 'okay' with this if you were faithful!"

Dazai hated every moment of this. He couldn't accept the fact that he didn't matter to you. Just as you didn't matter to him. Or so he thought.

Why aren't you begging him to stay? Why are being so nonchalant about this?

You scoffed, "Do I have to be having an affair to not react calmly?"

You stared at him then, enjoying how speechless he was.

“Well, what did you expect? For me to beg?”

You looked at him, bewildered.

“So, what, you want me to just leave?”, he asked, hating how you could see right through him.

You couldn’t help the sarcasm flooding to your mouth, ready to crush his ego further.

“Well, what did you expect, that we cuddle?”

Offended beyond repair, he got up and aggressively grabbed his coat, making a point to brush against your shoulder before walking out the door.

Dazai wondered how he ended up like this.

Bullets flying through the smoky air, clearing a path for fresher air. He hated the fact that he actually felt a rush as he inhaled the gunpowder.

Was it because it reminded him of the dark old days? His past haunted him like a tenacious one sided lover, who failed to acknowledge his delusions.

Oftentimes he found himself actually giving in to the warm embrace of his mafia days, the memories feeling more hot, than warm. Hot enough to burn through his clothes and leave burns on his porcelain skin.

Was this just that? Was he melting into a ghost of his past?

No.

This was much worse, he thought.

Because behind one of those bullets, stood a gun, aimed point blank at him. A slight tug at the trigger, and he would be a few grams lighter, a part of his brain flying out from his skull.

Yet, the one who held the gun stood perfectly still, almost like a statue.

Their finger on the trigger, their eyes sharp, and their lips in a smirk.

An oddly warm smirk.

“Osamu.”, they whispered, almost inaudible considering the many bullets zipping past his ears, fuzzing up his brain with the constant ringing.

Nobody could hear them. But he could. Because he knew those lips well. Way too well. He knew how they curled, and had almost memorised the way they called his name. They didn’t have to let out any sound, just the way they moved, told him they were tracing out the syllables of his name.

As I said, he knew those lips well.

Because he was caressing them last night. He was whispering sweet nothings as he slid a tongue into her mouth, those very lips opening in delicious moans at his antics in bed.

He knew her so well, that all it took was a look, and he knew what was coming.

He threw his head back. His torso leaned back due to the sudden movement, and in one swift motion, he fell to the ground, unmoving.

She giggled, as her love, for the man lying in a pool of blood by his head, a few feet from her heels, oddly, only grew.

She waited patiently for her men to finish the task before them.

Soon enough, many lifeless bodies laid on the ground, and shot members of the ADA stared back at her, their looks deadly.

Sadly, that’s all they could do; glare at her. They were hopelessly wounded, and their mastermind, the man who always figured it all out, who was a hundred steps ahead of their enemies, was lying stupidly at her feet.

“I’ll kill you.”

You heard the weretiger mumble out helplessly.

He was injured, and his powers would take time to kick in due to the severity of the blows he had been given.

Your men weren’t amateurs, they were pretty good at their job.

“I’d love to see you try, hun.”, you said, in a voice too calm and caring for the situation you were in.

Kunikida coughed up some blood as he tried to apply pressure to his wound.

The doctor used one hand to hold her head in place, as the drugs she had ingested unbeknownst to her, were forcing her to sleep. A simple yet effective method to slow down her healing. If she gives in to the sleeping pills, she won’t stay awake to heal her fatal wounds, and the grogginess didn’t let her focus.

Kyoka had been sedated, and Tanizaki had been dealt with, by using Naomi as a distraction, causing him to lose focus for a split second. That was enough to wound him enough to immobilise him.

“Take them away.”

Your men bowed and got to work, working on taking away everyone, except your lover.

Atsushi had already healed a little, and had regained enough energy to scream at you.

“YOU’RE DEAD! IM GOING TO KILL YOU! You.. I -“, Atsushi yelled, before being sedated by your men.

You watched as everyone, save for Yosano san, was given a heavy sedative, and rushed out of the room.

They had to work hard to keep her awake; she couldn’t pass out yet, for her own sake.

The room cleared, and now it was just you, and him. You watched his body, sprawled on the floor.

You kneeled down near his face, observing his beautiful features.

Hesitantly, you traced a finger on his jaw. His face felt so soft.

Angelic even.

You admired him some more, tracing his cheeks, his lovely lips, and his nose. Your thumb brushed his eyebrows lovingly, before leaning down to his lips.

You kissed him.

Passionately.

Some would call you a psychopath, for doing something so loving to someone you had killed.

The funny thing is, Dazai kissed back.

“Was I convincing enough, Bella?”

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You sighed as you heard the door rattle ever so slightly.

It had been 2 weeks since Dazai walked out on you and it has been… peaceful.

Or so you had hoped.

The ache in your heart only grew as the days went by, but you weren’t going to text him, let alone call him.

He had been such a loving boyfriend these last few months, that you had almost thought it was a prank when he asked to break up.

You were strong and independent, you didn’t really need him. Or so you told yourself everyday, as you tried very hard to ignore the dull pain in your chest.

A click brought you out of your thoughts, making you jump slightly on your seat at the sofa.

This can’t be actually happening, you thought to yourself, as you heard the door creak open. You were seated at an angle that blocked your view of the door, but you weren’t exactly worried about your safety. Because you knew who the intruder was.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t be calling the police, Osamu.”, you spoke into the silence.

A low chuckle was heard, followed by a messy head of brown appearing before you.

“Because, love,”, he said, making you roll your eyes at the nickname that he didn’t deserve to call you anymore.

“I’m not breaking in! I simply, forgot!”

He stood there, grinning like an idiot, holding up a set of random keys, cheeks blushed and eyes droopy.

“Forgot what?”

“To carry the right keys, of course!”, he said, burping at the end, making you scrunch up your nose in disgust.

“Just, how drunk are you?”, you asked, worried as he almost tumbled onto the floor, unable to stand still.

“Just a little!”

You groaned at his idiotic grin. This was going to be messy.

“Whose keys did you flick?”, you asked, hoping to return them to their rightful owner tomorrow.

“Keys? What keys? I don’t know any Mr Keith”, he declared, sauntering up to the space next to you and collapsing.

You froze up as he nuzzled his head on your thigh, his long arms gripping onto you as if you might disappear any second.

In mere seconds, you heard snores, and sighed to yourself.

How did he expect you to move on if he kept doing things like this?

You looked down at his head, and a small smile formed on your face as you saw how his cheek was smushed up against your thigh, and his pink lips naturally formed a cute pout as a result.

God. You missed this so much.

Hesitantly, you raised a hand and lightly grazed over his hair. The curls tickled the tips of your fingers, and you could almost cry at how comforting that felt.

You always loved him dearly. Even when he would have his random bursts of cold, distant behaviour, you gave him space and welcomed him with open arms when he came back to normal. You knew he was like this because of his trust issues, and his childhood wasn’t the best, so to speak.

He would always be sure to pamper you with love after his cold spurs.

But this time, when he wanted to break up, you didn’t see that same wall that he usually built around himself; you sensed indifference and dislike. He truly didn’t love you at that moment, and that scared you.

One of the only reasons why you didn’t want to even try to rekindle your relationship with him, is because of how scared you were of his expressions that day. He truly felt absolutely nothing but dislike for you, and you could feel it.

How is it that the same man is lying here, on your couch, with his head on your lap, lovingly nuzzling into you in his sleep?

“You must have a split personality…”, you mumbled, toying with individual curls of his dark hair.

“Or maybe, it’s more of a bipolar disorder?”, you wondered, lacking any actual knowledge of either mental illnesses.

You just wanted some reason to defend his hurtful behaviour. Some reason to let him in.

But maybe, there is no reason. Maybe, it was all just an elaborate lie, that he spun to cure his boredom.

The thought was too painful to entertain, and a tear slipped down your cheek.

You decided to just ignore these thoughts, and enjoy the moment of calm while it lasts.

Dazai groaned as he stirred awake. He had blacked out last night, having spent the night getting kicked out of multiple bars for having drank too much. He couldn’t remember much, except for the occasional sob of your name as he clutched a glass of whiskey on the rocks. He hadn’t felt such emptiness for a while.

He begrudgingly opened his eyes, only to still at the sight.

There you sat, asleep, neck bent in an uncomfortable position. He felt your hand in his hair, and decided to just stare at you.

He observed the smooth, silky skin he adored so much, and how it bent inwards after your cheekbones, narrowing towards your chin.

He smiled at the tiny freckles, and adored the pink of your lips. His smile faded as he noticed the dried tears on your cheeks, and the remnants of your maskara staining a path below your eyelashes.

He was the reason for your tears. He hated himself.

He raised a hand, and hesitated. Did he deserve to touch you after what he had done? Did he deserve to wipe your tears, to push your hair out of your face and to comfort you?

“Osamu..”, you whispered, still deep in slumber.

He usually loved the way you said his name.

But this time, his heart hurt at the pain in your voice.

He silently retracted his hand, which was only inches away from your face, and tried to get up. He wanted to get out of here before you woke up, hoping that you’d chalk it up to a weird dream.

He, stupidly, forgot about your hand in his hair.

You jumped awake, eyes wide and heart pumping. Your swift gaze landed on him, stilling.

You didn’t say anything, and he could see that you wanted to say something. He hoped you would, he silently begged you to.

But you didn’t.

He finally got up, and adjusted his shirt. It felt weird sitting next to you on the sofa where you had both spent countless nights cuddling, watching movies and enjoying each other’s presence.

You both spent some moments in silence, hating to accept that you liked the proximity.

You finally broke the silence as you cleared your throat, ready to take the initiative.

“Please don’t break in again.”

With that, you got up. He watched as you searched for something, and looked at you puzzled when you picked up a set of keys.

“Return these to their owner.”, you said, handing them to him.

He scrunched his brows, not knowing what any of that meant.

Did he break in? Whose keys are these? Why aren’t you addressing the real issue here?

“Did I.. break in?”, he asked, his voice deep and slightly raspy.

You sighed at the state of him. How could he sound so sexy and yet make you want to cry your eyes out? How could he not remember anything? Were you a joke to him? A joke of a person that he can use and throw as he pleased?

“I’m not your plaything, Dazai.”, you mustered up the courage to say to him, watching his face darken.

“You can’t keep doing this.”

He averted his eyes, and nodded.

“Please, just..”, you hated the way your voice cracked. You took a moment to calm your throat, and push the emotions away. You couldn’t afford to cry right now.

“Please leave.”

Dazai clenched his fist at your words. He hated the way you were holding back tears, tears that you would probably spill the moment he’s out the door.

“I’m sorry.”, he said, getting up and collecting his things off the floor.

You watched, hands hugging your torso, as he grabbed everything.

He stepped towards the door, when you called out to him.

“I’m asking because I want closure.”, you began, “Why?”

He froze, not being able to meet your eyes.

He hated himself.

He absolutely loathed himself.

“Because,”, he said, still avoiding eye contact, “you don’t deserve to be with a cheater.”

You couldn’t hold it anymore, having feared this.

Tears freely occupied your cheeks, sliding down and staining your top.

“Was she worth it?”, your voice trembled, making Dazai close his eyes in shame.

“Nothing can truly be worth it, y/n.”

You watched him disappear behind the door, and felt numb.

Maybe this was what you needed: the truth, the keys that can finally set you free from the chains around your heart.

Yosano felt the pressure to just close her eyes and let the darkness take over.

She felt her body being moved, she was being pushed around, probably on something with wheels. The soft rocking only worsened her need to pass out.

She knew that everything will go to shit if she did that, and had to stay awake. If she gave in now, she’d die. But that’s not what bothered her.

If she died, so did her comrades. Kunikida had been shot, and had come in close contact with an explosion. There were probably glass shards all over his skin. She feared them entering his bloodstream.

Atsushi had been taken down, too. She wondered in awe at how they managed to take that beast down. Was it drugs? Just like her?

But the tiger was too powerful to let an ordinary amount of sedative calm him, let alone incapacitate him.

Something very powerful was used against Atsushi, and she feared for his health. She had to heal him of whatever they’ve given him.

Kyoka was too young to even be in this mess, Yosano thought. But then again, I was much younger…

Tanizaki and Naomi were also taken down.

And Dazai… Dazai was dead… He was actually dead, and the one who killed him was his wife. The worst part was, that no matter how hard she tried to save him, his ability will always counter hers. Of course, there’s that one moment between being dead and alive, where the ability dies but the person is still 5% alive.

If only she could’ve been next to him when he got shot, she could’ve saved him.

But it’s too late now, he’s beyond 5%. He’s dead.

If only Ranpo had predicted this, everyone would still be alive.

Ranpo was… where was Ranpo, again?

She groaned, forcing all of her will power into keeping her head up, and applying pressure on the large stab wound in her abdomen.

Thanks to the sedative, she couldn’t feel the pain. It would’ve hurt like a bitch, if not for that stupid drug. What a blissful poison.

She laughed a little at the situation. She was heavily dependent on the drugs to stay sane and out of pain, but at the same time, the drugs were the ones she had to battle to stay alive.

She felt her eyes drooping even lower, and her head slipped from her palm. Her world was turning dark, rapidly.

Shit. I guess this is the end for me..

She felt a hand on the back of her head.

A tickle on her arm.

It slowly turned into a prick.

And then she felt it.

She screamed out in pain, lunging forward while clutching her abdomen.

It felt like she was on fire.

“Yosano san! Stay with me please! Yosano san!”

She heard a familiar voice.

“Use your ability! Use it! Now!”

She felt her throat dry up, her ears ringing at the intensity of her own shreaks.

“NOW!”

She finally understood, and activated her ability.

And just as it began, it was gone. She was healed.

She felt no pain, and the drowsiness was gone.

She realised that she had forced her eyes to close due to the pain, and slowly opened them.

Her world was slowly filled with light, everything around her blurry.

She tried to focus, and saw a face staring at her.

A woman stood before her, her face contorted in a concerned frown.

Yosano knew her well.

She was the one who had done this to her.

She was the one who had killed Dazai, and taken down the ADA.

Yosano saw red.

Her only thought was, I’m going to kill you.

My Way Or The Highway

Dazai winced as his eyes were blinded by harsh, laser like beams.

He groaned and made his displeasure very evident, too.

“Ouch! My eyes have been burned!”

He covered both his eyes with his palms, wiggling dramatically in his bed.

A certain ginger sighed at the window, him being the culprit of the brunettes misery.

“Shut up, idiot.”

Chuuya further pulled the curtain apart, making Dazai gasp in horror.

“How could you do this to me?!”, he said, finally peeking from under his palms to give Chuuya a devastated look of betrayal.

Chuuya stood with his hands folded, giving Dazai a deadpan look.

“You need to get up and wash your stinky ass.”

Chuuya pulled at Dazai’s blanket, making the tall man shriek as the cold morning air hit his comfortably warm body.

Dazai rolled around on the bed, trying to find an ounce of warmth to curl into.

Chuuya, clearly irritated, decided to forcefully pull the manchild out of bed.

They both had work to do, and Chuuya hated being late.

He tried to yank Dazai’s feet, but Dazai’s limbs were flailing everywhere.

“Aaaa! Chuuya is kidnapping me!”, Dazai yelled, continuing his mindless wiggling on the bed.

Chuuya leaped at his leg again, only to be accidentally kicked in the head.

That was his breaking point.

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic!”, the red head yelled, finally losing his patience.

“Can’t you act fucking mature for once?!”

Dazai suddenly stopped his flailing, and froze. He looked up at Chuuya with wide eyes, not having expected him to raise his voice.

Chuuya immediately felt guilt stab his heart as he realised what he had done, and felt even worse when he saw the slow build up of tears in Dazai’s eyes.

“Shit shit shit, I’m so sorry love..”

He hurriedly climbed onto the bed and hugged Dazai. Dazai smushed his face into the crook of Chuuya’s neck, sniffling timidly.

Chuuya felt immense pain as he heard Dazai cry softly, and weaved his fingers in Dazai’s soft brown locks to comfort him.

“I’m so sorry. I know you were just being silly, I was so angry for nothing.”

Chuuya went on to explain everything that had happened at work yesterday and how he was frustrated and tired, and maybe that’s why he suddenly yelled at Dazai.

“I know that this is not a valid reason in any way, but I just thought that you should know.. And that I wasn’t mad because of you, and-“

Dazai listened to the ginger ramble on, guilt evident in the tone of his voice. He smirked into his hair, away from Chuuya’s view as he realised that he really had his lovely chibi wrapped around his finger.

Dazai suddenly flipped the both of them, surprising Chuuya as his back hit the mattress.

“What the-“

Dazai hovered over the ginger, a smirk evident on his smug face.

“This is going to be your apology, chibi.”, he said, eyeing Chuuya’s wide ocean eyes, and admiring the slight blush on his freckled cheeks.

Dazai traced a finger along Chuuya’s lips, making them involuntarily part. He invaded the gingers mouth, lightly pressing down on his tongue, reigniting memories from the night before, making Chuuya blush a deep shade of red.

Dazai chuckled, “Your face matches your hair.”

Chuuya looked away, embarrassed. His breathing deepened in anticipation. If this was how he had to apologise, then he’d yell at the brunette everyday, he thought.

Suddenly, Dazai collapsed on top of him, getting comfortable before snoring.

Chuuya was left stunned.

“Did.. did you do all that just to get more sleep?!”

Chuuya’s shocked question was met with sound snores and a hidden cheeky smirk.

Chuuya sighed as he, too, got comfortable.

There was no way he could do anything that his tall idiot didn’t want to do.

I guess I’m going to have to skip work today, he thought, smiling fondly at the brunette sleeping on his chest.

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“He’s not a criminal, Ango.”, your low voice indicated how calmly frustrated you were.

Ango sighed, and pondered over what to tell you. He was glad that this conversation was happening over the phone and not in person, as he wouldn’t have been able to find the right reasons to give you for Dazais arrest.

Hell, he didn’t even know how you got to know about it.

“Listen, I’m trying everything in my power to help him.”

Ango crumpled a useless paper on his desk and aimed it at the dustbin at the right corner.

“Just give me some time, and I’ll sort this out.”

He wondered why you even cared so much, considering that he had only recently gotten to know that you and Dazai were a thing. But knowing his former colleague, you were probably nothing major. Dazai isn’t known for his loyalty, neither is he ever interested in long term relationships. You had probably found Angos number through Dazais phone, which he ironically leaves unattended quite frequently, in spite of being a detective himself.

“And what are you going to do during this time?”

Ango released his paper ball, but alas, it didn’t land in the bin.

“I’m going to find out which body demanded his arrest and how they got the proofs they needed. In fact, I’m on my way to the metro station as we speak.”

Ango crumpled another stray paper, and raised it over his head to set his aim.

“I’ll call you back when I have more information. How does that sound?”

Just as he was going to release the ball, you said, “Slightly to the left, and it’ll go right in.”

Ango stumbled out of his chair, immediately turning around to frantically search for anybody in the buildings outside his window.

“What?”, he decided that playing dumb would get him more time.

You laughed, shaking your head at the frantic movements of the bespectacled man.

“You won’t be able to find me, dove.”

Ango reached for his gun, which he had hidden from view under his desk.

You cut the call.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be harmed.”, you said, aiming your own gun at his back.

“But if I don’t get any names soon, I might just pull this trigger.”

Ango turned around slowly, his hands above his head, as he watched you walk out of the shadows of his office.

“Just who are you?!”

You smiled, “Y/N”

“Yes, I know your name. But how did you get in here?! And just why do you care so much about Dazai?!”

You smirked.

“If his wife didn’t care about him, who would?.”

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