Disgustingly wrong. [ dostoevsky replies, the minor height difference between himself and dazai forcing him to tilt his head upward, amethyst eyes luminous— sentimentally revolting, affection opens its yearning mouth and basks in this cruel, cruel bind between dazai and himself. their erratic behaviour, nonsensical plays, the fucking and the not fucking— the moments like this where dazai could very well turn and kill fyodor (not without consequence, no but he could be lethal to dostoevsky and that makes it all the more interesting).
chuuya's observation that he need only wait until the two killed one another is not a bad strategy. and yet, the appreciation of knowing that dazai is not going to let anyone else kill him is the kindest thing he's been offered in a long, long time. a wish never made granted.
a shift in attention as the knife embeds itself on the door and dostoevsky fucking laughs. ] Yes, it would be unwise to leave now, godling.
[Chuuya doesn't know what that conversation is about. He doesn't care. It's between the two of them, and he's half convinced they've made sure he's missed just enough not to understand, because they both know it would annoy him.
He honestly had been planning to leave, but that knife cuts him off, cuts off the idea, makes his legs freeze in place like the sharp blade was a direct order as much as a threat. It makes his pulse jump immediately, eyes going wide, too obvious. It's a good thing he'd turned away when it happens. There's also no way he would have needed either of them to say anything to know what it means.
He turns back towards them with a glare, trying to cover up his own reaction.
(He leaves the knife in the door. In his mind, it's theirs now.)]
Then stop being so damn annoying to put up with.
[It's weak, especially when he's clearly not going anywhere. He takes a step towards them again, head tilted back so he can look up at them both, waiting to see what they'll do.]
Actually seeing the two of you together is even worse than expected.
[Already, Chuuya seems to have forgotten all about why he'd dragged Dazai here in the first place, and that alone is a victory, if a small one. Let him remember much later, and get annoyed with himself more than Dazai; that sounds like a plan.
There's more Dazai should do, probably, but he's kind of comfortable like this, not kissing Fyodor but enjoying the possibility of it, his hands sliding ever so gently over Fyodor's overly thin sides, his hips... Yes, Dazai is absolutely trying to see if Fyodor has something on him that he doesn't want in this game - but touching like this is expected anyway, right?
But what to do about Chuuya, when Fyodor is the bigger risk, and the more pleasant company to boot? Chuuya is lovely to play with, and Dazai wants to involve him, but with Chuuya always determined to be so rude (which is definitely, 100% something an asshole like Dazai can comment on), the desire to put any effort into him stays pretty low.]
Then how about you close your eyes?
[Since they're so terrible to witness, and everything!
Having looked at Chuuya with a confident tilt of his head, Dazai turns his attention back to Fyodor, giving him a look that's as much a suggestion as a question. Whatever shall they do about the Chuuhuahua? Blindfolding Chuuya would be extremely justified, after that comment of his, but it might also make it a little too easy. Besides, Dazai had been playing with Chuuya for years now; while it's clear that Fyodor has, as well (and that's a little annoying, but less so now that they're all together), Dazai can only assume that his experience is more limited. Maybe Fyodor has a wish list regarding what to do with Chuuya?
Yes, rat, you can use Dazai's toys - for now, and now that you have his permission. But do try not to break them.]
[ in the grand scheme of things, in which people are but insignificant parts of, the three individuals in this room are a rarity. yes, in many aspects but in one in particular: they are not insignificant in said grand scheme. whether by luck or intellect, raw ability or manipulation, the scales of the world are forced off course by their actions and fate is brought to heel.
as dazai's hands skim along his sides, fyodor's body follows in delicate, slow movements to facilitate the search. a snake undulating under the sway of its charmer, performing for the crowd— no concealed weapons beyond the customary scalpel he keeps up his sleeve. lethal only in its ability to surprise, in this present company and circumstance it would not cause death. his fingers curl around the lapel of dazai's beige overcoat, and one hand moves to run his thumb along the cut made by chuuya's knife in his earlier wall stunt. dull red and plentiful— staining the collar of his shirt and giving no signs of stopping just yet. ]
No, [ fyodor turns to chuuya ] I think he should watch, he shouldn't be allowed to look away. [ playing nicely is fine by dostoevsky, chuuya is a long term project and showing some deference to dazai's request is utterly sincere. dazai and him have their arrangements, their agreements and not-promises-promises promised.
what he is curious is to see dazai and chuuya, to try and dissect the dynamics in their entirety, then feast on that. whether it is chuuya's expressions while observing them or fyodor with the infuriating smile staring at the other two it doesn't matter. each action yields knowledge.
his blood-stained thumb is brought up to his mouth, fyodor curling his tongue around the familiar taste; he keeps his gaze trained on chuuya as if to say look what you did. then, without preamble, he offers the same digit now spit and blood stained against dazai's lips. ]
[Chuuya hasn't forgotten about Dazai's punishment. He changed priorities the second Dostoevsky arrived, decided to let it go, because Dazai wouldn't understand his point anyway, and there was a new threat. He hasn't forgiven him, either, but nothing between the two of them has ever been properly resolved. It's what holds them together.
He's glancing between the two of them as they speak, still looking angry, but he --
He hesitates. His arm twitches like he wants to reach forward, and then he stops himself. They both know from experience that when Chuuya wants to do something, he rarely holds himself back unless he has good reason to. He can be obedient - can be made to be obedient - but they haven't actually given him reason to be yet. Any other time, he'd be grabbing one of them.
There's two of them now. He's actually not sure if he should do it.]
Why should I?
[To either option. Pick one, and try to convince him.
And then he moves anyway. He's annoyed at himself for his own hesitation, so even though it might be a bad idea, he's going to step up close, get up on tiptoe, and lean in. He's going to lick right across that cut he left on the rat, tasting blood, smearing his lips red.
(But he'll be easy to push off for once, if they try.)]
[Ah... It looks like Dazai is going to be made to do some work here, after all. Well, in this particular setting, with enough new variables to play with, he doesn't mind too much. He just likes to aim low!
Like, Chuuya-low, apparently. He's still not going to try convincing Chuuya with words, though, because he knows there are easier ways: he may as well save his breath.
But first, he parts his lips to invite Fyodor's thumb into his mouth, bodily fluids be damned, and wrap his tongue around it before closing his lips again and gently sucking. What honestly even counts as "gross" between them anymore? They're both way beyond such simple concepts.
Fyodor is free to do what he wants, but Dazai sees no reason to push Chuuya away: they're here to do this together, after all. Instead, Dazai finishes his slow suck of Fyodor's thumb, holding Fyodor's wrist as he does... and, if Fyodor allows, moving it over to Chuuya afterwards, using the moist but now blood-free thumb to offer some gentle corrections to the outline of the blood now on Chuuya's lips.
And maybe to smudge it a bit at the ends, on second thought, because that honestly works even better.]
You look so good in lipstick, Chuuya.
[Under other circumstances, he might be joking, but now, the only "joke" is in his choice of words. Chuuya really does look good.]
[ softness blooms, frail and pallid between them the moment dazai parts his mouth willingly; the split second it is visible, a shroud and then fyodor is neatly tucking it away, not crushed or tossed but simply kept away from the moment. dazai is not like others, a leeway that allows fyodor to become deceptively docile under his fingers. not complacent, no but allowing for flexibility— a space for dazai to push the ever-erased boundaries between them. what is blood and spit, bile and semen between them when their souls are the true issue? they're going to need a moment later to sit down and parse this event— dissecting it to fully understand the repercussions.
violence surges in place of that fleeting softness when he feels chuuya's warm mouth on his throat, tongue on papery skin, blood welling under the pressure. a quiet hum of acknowledgement that on any other would be a hiss, and dostoevsky looks at chuuya, always always always keeping his attention on what he is. the human shell is pretty, the red smeared by dazai's careful direction of his hand— a joint collaboration to drag this godling into this.
but also not because fyodor understands twin dark and its practicality, its lethality and how it wrecked destruction on him and his plans. the emotional ties are clear in their complexity, a structure that he can logically accept but not feel. everything inside him is muted in comparison to the utter passion normal people seem to exhibit. even sigma, in all his perfection, seems to succumb to that.
another hum, in agreement with dazai's assessment this time. fyodor uses his free hand, untangling it from dazai's coat to wrap fingers on chuuya's belt and pull him closer. meanwhile, his mouth sets lightly on the corner of dazai's, mocking in its affection, a reminder of the dangerous thing both dazai and chuuya have allowed to curl at the foot of their respective beds. ]
[The compliment gives him a sharp spike of embarrassment, but none of the anger that would usually follow. Because he knows it's a compliment, and he knows he looks good, so even though it's half mocking, that half will slide right off. Besides, they're inviting him in. He hadn't been sure if they would.
He lets them decorate his lips as they want, and then catches the rat's thumb between his teeth, grinning around it, a challenge and a threat. And then he lets Dostoevsky pull him closer.
He steps in between them, close enough to feel the warmth of their bodies. It's annoying to be reminded of how much shorter he is - it's even more annoying because he wants to lean up to kiss Dazai, too, but if Dazai doesn't lean down for him, he'd have to yank him down. And the rat isn't much shorter, so that's not an option either.
His teeth bite a little harder into that thumb for just a second, and then release it.]
Should he be the only one not bleeding?
[The question is directed at Dostoevsky, as he turns towards Dazai, half in between them now. He reaches up to wrap one hand around Dazai's throat, in a mock chokehold that could easily become real.]
it's not smart to collapse on the ground when any pillows there were just eaten
[Reminders of how dangerous Fyodor is are rarely necessary, but somehow that makes them more welcome rather than less so, feeling like a parody because of, not in spite of, the inherent truth of the matter. How different, then, is Chuuya showing his teeth - not because the danger he poses is any less real, but because the nature of his danger and his chosen method of showing it are equally fitting, yet a completely different style. If Chuuya is a photograph showing a brutal reality in gruesome detail, Fyodor show the same as a painting full of symbolism, just barely hinting at the horrors that are about to play out, already inevitably set into motion. And yet, here and now, both styles work equally well.
How lovely to see them together like this... For all his foresight, Dazai wouldn't have expected the situation to be so satisfying - yet here they are. Almost, he wonders if this is anything like what Mori saw in him and Chuuya all those years ago. ... Maybe, considering the nature of this encounter, it's better not to think too hard on that. It's not as if Dazai is planning any team-ups here, anyway (and he doesn't trust either of these men to behave as he wants without additional motivation) - but for here and now, for tonight, he's starting to get high hopes.
Until Chuuya acts up again, of course. Oh well - that, too, is part of his art.]
You got a head start on me already, Chuuya.
[Bleeding or not, clearly that means Dazai's turn to be punished is already over? That only makes sense! Or not, but of course Dazai will try to get out of worse at least this much. He doesn't resist Chuuya's hand on his throat, though.]
[ part of him yearns for the privacy of one-on-one; in this frail equilibrium for the other two to turn on him is always a possibility of varying degrees. rather than turning him off completely, dostoevsky finds the challenge entertaining even if its nature is an unusual one, requiring physical intimacy rather than the edges of blades and barrels of guns. but there is something fyodor knows, and he suspects dazai must be aware of it too— he is playing half-heartedly, after all in this scenario chuuya would back up dazai if anything gets out of hand; in turn he is also almost certain dazai would protect chuuya if the roles were reversed. interesting enough, fyodor himself finds disappointment in this— as if he is falling short somewhere along the mark required to give in and give in entirely.
and having been subject to chuuya's knee to his stomach a few minutes ago, he's certain the angry red is blooming purple and tomorrow will look an angry bright purple mixed with green. fyodor hates being marked physically without some semblance of consent - being hit is not a thing that brings him pleasure, even if it had been part of something else and not a threat to his life.
chuuya's teeth on his thumb make his eyes flutter because yes, that does feel good. he takes the opportunity to swoop in closer towards chuuya, the same sort of kiss planted on the corner of his mouth that he had just bestowed upon dazai moments before. less affectionate, no underlying messages in the gesture. ]
How should we make our dearest darling Dazai bleed? [ then, taking advantage of the hand that has been on his wrist, fyodor switches. one hand remains loosely hooked on the edge of chuuya's pants, and the saliva-coated one grasps dazai's instead and brings his palm up to fyodor's mouth.
an open mouth kiss. the press of teeth. they'd spoken of this once, the biting, the feeding, the tearing of flesh— back then the acceptance of dazai to said game had felt like a ploy for distraction, an attempt to buy time and fyodor had felt despondent for a brief minute. he is a creature of war and violence, tenderness tends to be lost on him.
chuuya's hand on dazai's neck makes him shiver in anticipation, the promise of the grip tightening and the face dazai would make... ]
[Chuuya looks surprised at the gentle kiss. Surprised and confused, like he'd been ready for anything but that. Someone like him is always expecting violence. He would have wanted it to last longer.
But this is still their game. There's a lot that's not being said here, and Chuuya can catch the way they look at each other even if he doesn't understand every meaning. They're still having conversations without him. His earlier jealousy has faded though, because he's here now, and it's not like he has any intention of letting them forget that, of letting them underestimate him.]
Don't call him that.
[Ours, he means. The rat can call Dazai whatever disgusting pet name he likes, as long as he doesn't include Chuuya in it.]
I never wanted any claim to him.
[He's still looking at Dazai as he says it, tone disgusted. His grip tightens for a second, enough to be a threat, a reminder that Chuuya is more than strong enough to do it... And then his hand twists, and instead he rakes his nails downwards until they hit bandages, leaving a trail of red marks. There's no blood now, but all it would take is a little more strength.
His grin is back at the threat of violence, a show he likes to put on. Maybe he should take back his knife, instead of leaving it in the door, because he doubts they'd stop him. Chuuya is the one who decided he couldn't.]
Should I make both of you match? Isn't that what you want?
[Oh..? Fyodor seemingly bringing back the topic of cannibalism, if only in some small way, tickles Dazai's curiosity - not so much for the action itself, as for the unsatisfying way that conversation had ended. What, then, is different now? This feels a little bit like forgiveness granted to him by Fyodor, and while that is an absurd notion on several levels, Dazai finds it still pleases him... except for the fact that Chuuya is here. As inclined to violence as Chuuya is, Dazai isn't sure if including him in the darker games between Fyodor and him is a good idea.
But then, maybe that's mostly because he's not sure he should risk that much vulnerability in front of both these people... and arguably it's also because he knows that even Chuuya might not survive their games, if they went all out. (It's funny how Chuuya is so very predictable, but when it comes to Fyodor and Dazai's intricate chess games, Chuuya would definitely be a loose cannon. (But on their current level, it's probably fine..?))]
Nor did you ever have any, Chuuya.
[Just sayin'. Dazai doesn't especially want a claim on you, either, but the reverse? That's outright laughable.
Dazai doesn't respond at all when his throat is briefly constricted, confident that he can handle it, and determined to show exactly how worried he isn't about the outcome. When Chuuya scratches him, though, he hisses, though he tries to end the sound as more of a bored sigh. Pain-wise, it was hardly impressive, but it was unexpected, and a sharp kind of pain: a response was just inevitable.]
Don't be disgusting.
[About the matching, he means. That's gross. They match enough on the inside, and Dazai isn't sure he likes that, even though he also enjoys it.]
Maybe we should hoist you up, Chuuya. Wouldn't you like to be high up for a change?
[Ah... It seems like Dazai is actually a little annoyed about the scratching and/or the suggestion that he matches Fyodor somehow. Go figure.]
[ questions of owning and ownership, possessing and possession— he lies in bed at night and feels the hands of all of those crime and punishment has owned and dispatched— not nightmares, mere accompaniment during the intermissions between one set of plans and another. dazai's palm is pressed more insistently against his mouth, no threat of bites and blood. an answer and concession for dazai: not their kind of violence, no, not here where chuuya's presence could escalate things in ways neither one could predict nor control. ]
We have no desire to match. [ dostoevsky smiles against the palm before he lets both of them go, hands falling neatly by his side. ] That we do match in certain ways is out of our control, it simply is the nature of how God made us. Matching intellects. Making sure there was someone walking on this earth that could provide a challenge. [ this is as close to an explanation as he comes, for chuuya's benefit and perhaps to placate things before both of them end up hoisted up by chuuya's ability.
hanging upside down would render him unconscious and he will not permit that level of violence against his person.
still, that denial of claim... dostoevsky thinks, amused, that it is something wanted. still yearned for. dazai seeking to fill the hole, chuuya seeking connection. the hypothesis is not certain, belief and truth are not always in accordance but dostoevsky feels, rare as that is, a weathered warmth. like frostbitten fingers held over the fire, no sensation until it hits all at once. aching, trembling, vulnerable. ]
Don't you worry, Godling, darling Dazai and I are too different to ever fully match. You need not look so disgusted at the prospect. The same goes for you, Dazai.
[ he is not even offended about these things, however ownership... well matching is not a requirement for such attachments. the people dostoevsky has owned (and it goes one way and one way only) are vastly different, unmatching. ]
[Dazai's hiss is satisfying. Chuuya looks incredibly pleased with himself, just for a second, because knowing he can still force reactions out of Dazai might make the rest of this worth it, no matter how annoying these two get. And he's definitely annoyed at the current topic.]
You're like a cheap knock off version.
[The two of them, he means, and no, he won't specify who is the knock off version here. They both are.
And he doesn't even think they're that similar. They have a few annoying traits in common, but there's definitely more about them that's different than not. As much as he hates to think about it, he's known Dazai for years now, he knows him, as much as it's possible to, he's seen sides of Dazai that he doesn't usually show, which means it's going to take a lot more than just this to impress him. And the damn rat is... A different kind of problem, anyway.
Which is in no way a reason not to piss them off about it. Or at least piss off Dazai about it, since the rat doesn't seem to care.]
Obviously you've been comparing.
[He says it like: You've been having a dick measuring contest. And then he grins, dropping the subject, because he was only ever going to put up with that for so long.]
You couldn't get me up there, dimwit. And this rat -- [he jerks his head towards Dostoevsky.] -- can't help when he can barely carry his own body.
[Wow, excuse you, obviously Fyodor is the knock-off?! He might just be older (it really is impossible to say, with people like them), but since Chuuya has known Dazai longer, clearly Dazai can only be the original.
So he'll just smile at Fyodor, ever so slightly. Haha, his pet chuuhuahua (whom he does not actually own, of course) insulted you~!
It's a brief moment of petty (and largely exaggerated) self-satisfaction, before his smile blossoms into something more genuine - and if Dazai looks halfway like a love-struck girl right about now, that's because they have been having a dick measuring contest, except it was brains rather than dicks, and oh boy was that a thrill!! That Dazai won that particular battle (not expected to be the end of the war) is honestly secondary to the pure pleasure of being able to play on his own level.
... But winning was still damn satisfying, actually.]
For all your complaining about us, you're still the one who keeps seeking us out, Chuuya.
[Probably not a good thing, where Fyodor is involved. But the less said (or even thought) about that, the better. Dazai doesn't care about Chuuya, after all. If there's a hole he needs filling - purely theoretically! - Chuuya is still 25 centimeters short!
Dazai turns to Fyodor, emphatically, deliberately. The opportunity to mock Chuuya is his main goal, here, but if he happens to get some intel in the process, so much the better.]
Don't you find him far too needy, Fedya? You could stick anything into him and it wouldn't be enough.
[ oh that smile. fyodor responds with one of his own, a gesture of goodwill. he will concede this battle to you, dazai because ultimately the insult of being a knock-off or not does not cause a dent. it would offend him far more to think chuuya considers dazai and fyodor more different. it would —
bother him. in a way that is entirely too private to even consider here, in this moment, where a slight slip might give dazai a foothold onto that. no, ultimately he's still going to kill everyone in this room when given the chance.
but fishing, how cute of you dazai. ] Is he? [ he faces dazai, a glance in chuuya's direction, as his bony hand reaches for the redhead. ] Why don't you show me? Let's see what makes him squirm the most.
[ there are already two available things they could use here and fyodor knows dazai is equally inventive with the limited resources available. ] Unless you want to still leave, Chuuya?
[A little too defensive, maybe, but they can't blame him of being the one to have sought them out this time. Not that it's completely wrong, but that doesn't mean he's willing to admit it. He knows seeking out either of them is a bad idea.
And it seems like this time won't be any different. He tenses at Dazai's provocation, like he wants to react violently. He's immediately blushing.]
Like hell I'd run away.
[So the rat's chosen a side. And Dazai is annoyed from earlier. He probably should try to stop them, or at least not provoke them more than he already has, but that was never going to happen. He'll slide a hand around the back of either of their necks, and then take a sharp and sudden step back, pulling them with him, tugging them off balance and bringing them down to his level.
He'll lean in to bite at Dazai's lips, kissing him hard for a second. Then he'll repeat the same with Dostoevsky, letting it linger just a little longer, for no reason other than to annoy his ex-partner. Then he'll let go of them both. He'll go along with their plans.
But his expression is defiant: Try to impress him, then.]
[They are, indeed, in Chuuya's apartment, though in Dazai's case, he was "invited" there, rather than just showing up. It's a useful argument, but one that Dazai chooses not to make. Chuuya doesn't need reminding of his initial goal in coming here, and Fyodor doesn't need to feel any kind of special just for allowing himself in. Is it surprising that Fyodor knows Chuuya's apartment? Not really, all things considered. Does it still bother Dazai? Yes, actually. There are things he'll gladly do with Fyodor, and things he'll gladly share, but there are also lines that are not meant to be crossed. When it comes to the likes of Chuuya, things are bound to once again become a slippery slope with Fyodor.
Still, Dazai is here, and while it's annoying to have to be on his guard a bit - not for Fyodor or for Chuuya, but for the potentially volatile combination of them - the rewards for success should also be good. He's more than willing, then, to try to stuff Chuuya with some gym equipment (and, frankly, the more impossible, the more entertaining the attempt should be) - until Chuuya yanks the both of them back, and Dazai's mood goes from willing to childishly annoyed.
The benefit of being kissed first (though how rude, kissing Fyodor longer!) is that he has a moment or two to form a plan and prepare putting it into action. Perhaps he would have a hard time hoisting Chuuya up in revenge, but it's not impossible - and with a little help, it should even be extremely easy.
There was a reason he didn't cut the ropes that had held him up, after all. Surely they're still close enough to where they are, too.
Falling back as Chuuya lets him go, Dazai groans and rolls over in supposed pain, conveniently towards Chuuya - and slips the rope around Chuuya's ankle before getting to his feet, staggering off to grab hold of some gym machine or other for balance.]
You really... don't know how to treat guests, Chuuya.
[Dazai just needs a teensy distraction from Fyodor at that point, and then he can use the gym machine and/or some weights on it to suddenly pull the rope, and hoist Chuuya up in his stead.
Or they can do something different, really, but starting with this much feels like cosmic justice.]
[ this whole thing is childish but not unwelcome. games are played for entertainment, whether the aim is fucking someone or fucking someone up. the distinction has always been crystal clear but fyodor cannot find it in his heart to mind this entire scenario too much; it hadn't been the plan, and it had him bleeding but it is informative. rather than trying to break chuuya and dazai's grounded loyalty, he could find a wedge to slot himself there. it would take time. months. years - perhaps, but again, what else is there but time in this limbo the ada has him in?
he has a hamster in his room; a fridge filled with pudding; an expensive wine bottle in his pantry; his ushanka is stored away, deep in the closet. there is something transformative about this life he's pretending to lead that is becoming less of a pretence than he'd like.
and he knows dazai.
knows him deeply and intimately. they are alike, they are so close to being the same side of the coin but —
there is something rotted that reaches out, tenderly and wanting to be held. fyodor takes the kiss, and then while dazai does whatever dazai is going to do (which fyodor knows, he can tell) he provides a distraction by kissing chuuya. this is messy and open, inviting him in to take more, to bite to make him bleed if he so wishes. ]
[Chuuya knows he's being distracted. He knows what Dazai is up to. Do they really think it's that easy to make him forget who he's up against, and how much of an asshole his ex-partner is? As if Chuuya could ever forget: The second you can't see his hands, he's trying to pull something, and if you can see his hands somehow he still is.
He'll let the rat kiss him, though, and he'll nip at his lips as he kisses back, hard but not hard enough to cause damage yet, wrapping an arm loosely around his back, enjoying the moment, the weight of him. He'll also stick his leg out and up into the air, like an offering.]
At least tie me properly so it can hold me. You're too damn lazy.
[He barely bothers to break the kiss to say it. Dazai will be able to hear it even if it's spoken directly against the rat's lips.
The thing is, he knew what he signed up for when he decided to stay. There was a chance he could get the rat to side with him instead - that the rat would want Dazai to bleed - but if the two of them are turning on him, then what comes next is going to be inevitable. His only chance would have been to run. He wouldn't have been able to avoid it even if he did run.
So he's going to act like he doesn't care. He's not impressed. Whatever the two of them might want to do, he can take it, and if Dazai wants to get back at him for earlier, he can take it even better than Dazai did. Even knowing he won't be able to use his Ability for it.]
[How dare you ruin his brilliant plan, Chuu!? And after Fyodor so graciously supported him, too.
Dazai is lazy, and after being shut down so bluntly, he's less inclined to work for anything than before. Add to that the fact that Chuuya is (pretending to be) willing to go along with his plan, and Dazai loses all interest in doing anything of the sort.
What he is going to do, is pull at the leg Chuuya is still standing on. Chuuya had pulled them off balance, trying to make them both fall; he can have a taste of his own medicine.]
I'm not doing it anymore.
[Sitting and sulking like an overgrown child is clearly a much better plan. Considering what he came here to suffer, he's still ahead on a technicality; there are worse things than stopping now.]
I think I'll just blow up Chuuya's wine cellar, and go back home.
[ that is a good kiss. shame it is interrupted in such a way.
honestly, though dazai's moods and all are something fyodor considers familiar. on a good day, he'd even admit that he can deal with them just fine and enjoy the irrationality, the childishness, the games — he is not too dissimilar though he opts to act a certain way. more taciturn, a self-imposed exile from humanity and ability users.
with the addition of chuuya their usual game is off. fyodor feels it, like an uncomfortable sheen of sweat on his skin.
he moves, quicker than one would expect from fyodor and allows chuuya to fall with the pull from dazai. sorry, godling, he can't land on a heap on the floor while dazai is loose here. instead, fyodor tries to take advantage of the moment: chuuya falling, dazai pulling on that leg to openly attempt to tackle dazai onto the floor.
maybe chuuya's plan to make dazai bleed is the better option.
and they're all going to act like toddlers here apparently. ]
[For once, Chuuya doesn't even try to pull the rat down with him. He feels himself being yanked off balance and lets go, allows himself to fall onto his back, years of training allowing him to fall in a way that won't hurt.
He lands, throwing out an arm to break the fall and to provide leverage, and immediately his leg comes up in a kick aimed at Dazai.]
Like hell you're leaving!
[And seeing the rat tackle Dazai is satisfying. This is turning into a different kind of thrill, almost a free-for-all, except with alliances. It's funny. Or it's at least fun. It's unpredictable. Is the rat on his side now?
He doubts it, but maybe for the moment he is.]
I know you're not that much of a coward, Dazai.
[He's going to get up, and then join the pile, however it ends up.]
[Chuuya simply rolling through the fall is annoying, but expected: as frustrating as it is, Dazai knows he can't expect to achieve better from a split second's improvisation, just like he knows that he can dodge the predictable kick. Or he would be able to dodge it, if a certain rat bastard hadn't chosen that very moment to tackle him. Losing his balance, Dazai has no chance to even try to avoid being hit.
The kick hurts, but not enough to count as serious, especially from Chuuya; the fall is a bit rough-going, though, especially with a Fyodor-shaped anchor on Dazai's leg(s). While Dazai manages to catch himself to some degree, he's too late to avoid a collision with the floor completely: his mouth makes contact - not quite a full-on crash, but enough of an impact that his lips will swell and probably bleed some, if only on the inside.]
What... does cowardice have to do with it?
[He literally just boldly announced his plans to ruin your stupidly expensive wine collection! How does that make him a coward, or indeed anything but a man of exquisite taste?!?]
[ the violence spills out of him without a second thought; in a way, it is beyond his control, like a hound on the hunt that has caught the scent of blood. fortunately, his restricted use of crime and punishment means that it is not his ability that he uses but his own body. he thinks, distantly, abstractly that bodies are made for such things. bodies can inflict and resist such brutal punishments as if they helplessly refuse to atone for their crimes.
and his look is tender, fitting for a moment of intimacy between lovers and not what he does next: fyodor jabs his elbow against dazai's spine, hard and bruising— bitterness in such a blow, an accusation (this is what you've made of me, this is what you've reduced me to and i will make you bleed for it). then his mouth, stained with his own blood and chuuya's previously- mean, sharp teeth in the juncture between jaw and ear, a rebuke (shut up) but it is only blood he seeks, no flesh and he waits
expects
welcomes the punishment for his infliction of such violence.
( chuuya is not forgotten, of course, fyodor has him in the periphery of his awareness, knows where his next bruise might come from. is he on your side still, chuuya? — a bloody smile, he thinks blood looks better on the godling but blood is so familiar to dostoevsky. from womb to tomb, even muzzled and collared like this, he will never let anyone forget what he is. what he can do. and what he wants to do. ) ]
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chuuya's observation that he need only wait until the two killed one another is not a bad strategy. and yet, the appreciation of knowing that dazai is not going to let anyone else kill him is the kindest thing he's been offered in a long, long time. a wish never made granted.
a shift in attention as the knife embeds itself on the door and dostoevsky fucking laughs. ] Yes, it would be unwise to leave now, godling.
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He honestly had been planning to leave, but that knife cuts him off, cuts off the idea, makes his legs freeze in place like the sharp blade was a direct order as much as a threat. It makes his pulse jump immediately, eyes going wide, too obvious. It's a good thing he'd turned away when it happens. There's also no way he would have needed either of them to say anything to know what it means.
He turns back towards them with a glare, trying to cover up his own reaction.
(He leaves the knife in the door. In his mind, it's theirs now.)]
Then stop being so damn annoying to put up with.
[It's weak, especially when he's clearly not going anywhere. He takes a step towards them again, head tilted back so he can look up at them both, waiting to see what they'll do.]
Actually seeing the two of you together is even worse than expected.
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There's more Dazai should do, probably, but he's kind of comfortable like this, not kissing Fyodor but enjoying the possibility of it, his hands sliding ever so gently over Fyodor's overly thin sides, his hips... Yes, Dazai is absolutely trying to see if Fyodor has something on him that he doesn't want in this game - but touching like this is expected anyway, right?
But what to do about Chuuya, when Fyodor is the bigger risk, and the more pleasant company to boot? Chuuya is lovely to play with, and Dazai wants to involve him, but with Chuuya always determined to be so rude (which is definitely, 100% something an asshole like Dazai can comment on), the desire to put any effort into him stays pretty low.]
Then how about you close your eyes?
[Since they're so terrible to witness, and everything!
Having looked at Chuuya with a confident tilt of his head, Dazai turns his attention back to Fyodor, giving him a look that's as much a suggestion as a question. Whatever shall they do about the Chuuhuahua? Blindfolding Chuuya would be extremely justified, after that comment of his, but it might also make it a little too easy. Besides, Dazai had been playing with Chuuya for years now; while it's clear that Fyodor has, as well (and that's a little annoying, but less so now that they're all together), Dazai can only assume that his experience is more limited. Maybe Fyodor has a wish list regarding what to do with Chuuya?
Yes, rat, you can use Dazai's toys - for now, and now that you have his permission. But do try not to break them.]
i will not apologise for this tag
as dazai's hands skim along his sides, fyodor's body follows in delicate, slow movements to facilitate the search. a snake undulating under the sway of its charmer, performing for the crowd— no concealed weapons beyond the customary scalpel he keeps up his sleeve. lethal only in its ability to surprise, in this present company and circumstance it would not cause death. his fingers curl around the lapel of dazai's beige overcoat, and one hand moves to run his thumb along the cut made by chuuya's knife in his earlier wall stunt. dull red and plentiful— staining the collar of his shirt and giving no signs of stopping just yet. ]
No, [ fyodor turns to chuuya ] I think he should watch, he shouldn't be allowed to look away. [ playing nicely is fine by dostoevsky, chuuya is a long term project and showing some deference to dazai's request is utterly sincere. dazai and him have their arrangements, their agreements and not-promises-promises promised.
what he is curious is to see dazai and chuuya, to try and dissect the dynamics in their entirety, then feast on that. whether it is chuuya's expressions while observing them or fyodor with the infuriating smile staring at the other two it doesn't matter. each action yields knowledge.
his blood-stained thumb is brought up to his mouth, fyodor curling his tongue around the familiar taste; he keeps his gaze trained on chuuya as if to say look what you did. then, without preamble, he offers the same digit now spit and blood stained against dazai's lips. ]
i have been destroyed
He's glancing between the two of them as they speak, still looking angry, but he --
He hesitates. His arm twitches like he wants to reach forward, and then he stops himself. They both know from experience that when Chuuya wants to do something, he rarely holds himself back unless he has good reason to. He can be obedient - can be made to be obedient - but they haven't actually given him reason to be yet. Any other time, he'd be grabbing one of them.
There's two of them now. He's actually not sure if he should do it.]
Why should I?
[To either option. Pick one, and try to convince him.
And then he moves anyway. He's annoyed at himself for his own hesitation, so even though it might be a bad idea, he's going to step up close, get up on tiptoe, and lean in. He's going to lick right across that cut he left on the rat, tasting blood, smearing his lips red.
(But he'll be easy to push off for once, if they try.)]
just the way you like it
Like, Chuuya-low, apparently. He's still not going to try convincing Chuuya with words, though, because he knows there are easier ways: he may as well save his breath.
But first, he parts his lips to invite Fyodor's thumb into his mouth, bodily fluids be damned, and wrap his tongue around it before closing his lips again and gently sucking. What honestly even counts as "gross" between them anymore? They're both way beyond such simple concepts.
Fyodor is free to do what he wants, but Dazai sees no reason to push Chuuya away: they're here to do this together, after all. Instead, Dazai finishes his slow suck of Fyodor's thumb, holding Fyodor's wrist as he does... and, if Fyodor allows, moving it over to Chuuya afterwards, using the moist but now blood-free thumb to offer some gentle corrections to the outline of the blood now on Chuuya's lips.
And maybe to smudge it a bit at the ends, on second thought, because that honestly works even better.]
You look so good in lipstick, Chuuya.
[Under other circumstances, he might be joking, but now, the only "joke" is in his choice of words. Chuuya really does look good.]
excuse me while i eat an entire pillow
violence surges in place of that fleeting softness when he feels chuuya's warm mouth on his throat, tongue on papery skin, blood welling under the pressure. a quiet hum of acknowledgement that on any other would be a hiss, and dostoevsky looks at chuuya, always always always keeping his attention on what he is. the human shell is pretty, the red smeared by dazai's careful direction of his hand— a joint collaboration to drag this godling into this.
but also not because fyodor understands twin dark and its practicality, its lethality and how it wrecked destruction on him and his plans. the emotional ties are clear in their complexity, a structure that he can logically accept but not feel. everything inside him is muted in comparison to the utter passion normal people seem to exhibit. even sigma, in all his perfection, seems to succumb to that.
another hum, in agreement with dazai's assessment this time. fyodor uses his free hand, untangling it from dazai's coat to wrap fingers on chuuya's belt and pull him closer. meanwhile, his mouth sets lightly on the corner of dazai's, mocking in its affection, a reminder of the dangerous thing both dazai and chuuya have allowed to curl at the foot of their respective beds. ]
excuse me while i cOLLAPSE ON THE GROUND
He lets them decorate his lips as they want, and then catches the rat's thumb between his teeth, grinning around it, a challenge and a threat. And then he lets Dostoevsky pull him closer.
He steps in between them, close enough to feel the warmth of their bodies. It's annoying to be reminded of how much shorter he is - it's even more annoying because he wants to lean up to kiss Dazai, too, but if Dazai doesn't lean down for him, he'd have to yank him down. And the rat isn't much shorter, so that's not an option either.
His teeth bite a little harder into that thumb for just a second, and then release it.]
Should he be the only one not bleeding?
[The question is directed at Dostoevsky, as he turns towards Dazai, half in between them now. He reaches up to wrap one hand around Dazai's throat, in a mock chokehold that could easily become real.]
it's not smart to collapse on the ground when any pillows there were just eaten
How lovely to see them together like this... For all his foresight, Dazai wouldn't have expected the situation to be so satisfying - yet here they are. Almost, he wonders if this is anything like what Mori saw in him and Chuuya all those years ago.
... Maybe, considering the nature of this encounter, it's better not to think too hard on that. It's not as if Dazai is planning any team-ups here, anyway (and he doesn't trust either of these men to behave as he wants without additional motivation) - but for here and now, for tonight, he's starting to get high hopes.
Until Chuuya acts up again, of course. Oh well - that, too, is part of his art.]
You got a head start on me already, Chuuya.
[Bleeding or not, clearly that means Dazai's turn to be punished is already over? That only makes sense! Or not, but of course Dazai will try to get out of worse at least this much. He doesn't resist Chuuya's hand on his throat, though.]
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and having been subject to chuuya's knee to his stomach a few minutes ago, he's certain the angry red is blooming purple and tomorrow will look an angry bright purple mixed with green. fyodor hates being marked physically without some semblance of consent - being hit is not a thing that brings him pleasure, even if it had been part of something else and not a threat to his life.
chuuya's teeth on his thumb make his eyes flutter because yes, that does feel good. he takes the opportunity to swoop in closer towards chuuya, the same sort of kiss planted on the corner of his mouth that he had just bestowed upon dazai moments before. less affectionate, no underlying messages in the gesture. ]
How should we make our dearest darling Dazai bleed? [ then, taking advantage of the hand that has been on his wrist, fyodor switches. one hand remains loosely hooked on the edge of chuuya's pants, and the saliva-coated one grasps dazai's instead and brings his palm up to fyodor's mouth.
an open mouth kiss. the press of teeth. they'd spoken of this once, the biting, the feeding, the tearing of flesh— back then the acceptance of dazai to said game had felt like a ploy for distraction, an attempt to buy time and fyodor had felt despondent for a brief minute. he is a creature of war and violence, tenderness tends to be lost on him.
chuuya's hand on dazai's neck makes him shiver in anticipation, the promise of the grip tightening and the face dazai would make... ]
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But this is still their game. There's a lot that's not being said here, and Chuuya can catch the way they look at each other even if he doesn't understand every meaning. They're still having conversations without him. His earlier jealousy has faded though, because he's here now, and it's not like he has any intention of letting them forget that, of letting them underestimate him.]
Don't call him that.
[Ours, he means. The rat can call Dazai whatever disgusting pet name he likes, as long as he doesn't include Chuuya in it.]
I never wanted any claim to him.
[He's still looking at Dazai as he says it, tone disgusted. His grip tightens for a second, enough to be a threat, a reminder that Chuuya is more than strong enough to do it... And then his hand twists, and instead he rakes his nails downwards until they hit bandages, leaving a trail of red marks. There's no blood now, but all it would take is a little more strength.
His grin is back at the threat of violence, a show he likes to put on. Maybe he should take back his knife, instead of leaving it in the door, because he doubts they'd stop him. Chuuya is the one who decided he couldn't.]
Should I make both of you match? Isn't that what you want?
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But then, maybe that's mostly because he's not sure he should risk that much vulnerability in front of both these people... and arguably it's also because he knows that even Chuuya might not survive their games, if they went all out. (It's funny how Chuuya is so very predictable, but when it comes to Fyodor and Dazai's intricate chess games, Chuuya would definitely be a loose cannon. (But on their current level, it's probably fine..?))]
Nor did you ever have any, Chuuya.
[Just sayin'. Dazai doesn't especially want a claim on you, either, but the reverse? That's outright laughable.
Dazai doesn't respond at all when his throat is briefly constricted, confident that he can handle it, and determined to show exactly how worried he isn't about the outcome. When Chuuya scratches him, though, he hisses, though he tries to end the sound as more of a bored sigh. Pain-wise, it was hardly impressive, but it was unexpected, and a sharp kind of pain: a response was just inevitable.]
Don't be disgusting.
[About the matching, he means. That's gross. They match enough on the inside, and Dazai isn't sure he likes that, even though he also enjoys it.]
Maybe we should hoist you up, Chuuya. Wouldn't you like to be high up for a change?
[Ah... It seems like Dazai is actually a little annoyed about the scratching and/or the suggestion that he matches Fyodor somehow. Go figure.]
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We have no desire to match. [ dostoevsky smiles against the palm before he lets both of them go, hands falling neatly by his side. ] That we do match in certain ways is out of our control, it simply is the nature of how God made us. Matching intellects. Making sure there was someone walking on this earth that could provide a challenge. [ this is as close to an explanation as he comes, for chuuya's benefit and perhaps to placate things before both of them end up hoisted up by chuuya's ability.
hanging upside down would render him unconscious and he will not permit that level of violence against his person.
still, that denial of claim... dostoevsky thinks, amused, that it is something wanted. still yearned for. dazai seeking to fill the hole, chuuya seeking connection. the hypothesis is not certain, belief and truth are not always in accordance but dostoevsky feels, rare as that is, a weathered warmth. like frostbitten fingers held over the fire, no sensation until it hits all at once. aching, trembling, vulnerable. ]
Don't you worry, Godling, darling Dazai and I are too different to ever fully match. You need not look so disgusted at the prospect. The same goes for you, Dazai.
[ he is not even offended about these things, however ownership... well matching is not a requirement for such attachments. the people dostoevsky has owned (and it goes one way and one way only) are vastly different, unmatching. ]
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You're like a cheap knock off version.
[The two of them, he means, and no, he won't specify who is the knock off version here. They both are.
And he doesn't even think they're that similar. They have a few annoying traits in common, but there's definitely more about them that's different than not. As much as he hates to think about it, he's known Dazai for years now, he knows him, as much as it's possible to, he's seen sides of Dazai that he doesn't usually show, which means it's going to take a lot more than just this to impress him. And the damn rat is... A different kind of problem, anyway.
Which is in no way a reason not to piss them off about it. Or at least piss off Dazai about it, since the rat doesn't seem to care.]
Obviously you've been comparing.
[He says it like: You've been having a dick measuring contest. And then he grins, dropping the subject, because he was only ever going to put up with that for so long.]
You couldn't get me up there, dimwit. And this rat -- [he jerks his head towards Dostoevsky.] -- can't help when he can barely carry his own body.
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So he'll just smile at Fyodor, ever so slightly. Haha, his pet chuuhuahua (whom he does not actually own, of course) insulted you~!
It's a brief moment of petty (and largely exaggerated) self-satisfaction, before his smile blossoms into something more genuine - and if Dazai looks halfway like a love-struck girl right about now, that's because they have been having a dick measuring contest, except it was brains rather than dicks, and oh boy was that a thrill!! That Dazai won that particular battle (not expected to be the end of the war) is honestly secondary to the pure pleasure of being able to play on his own level.
... But winning was still damn satisfying, actually.]
For all your complaining about us, you're still the one who keeps seeking us out, Chuuya.
[Probably not a good thing, where Fyodor is involved. But the less said (or even thought) about that, the better. Dazai doesn't care about Chuuya, after all. If there's a hole he needs filling - purely theoretically! - Chuuya is still 25 centimeters short!
Dazai turns to Fyodor, emphatically, deliberately. The opportunity to mock Chuuya is his main goal, here, but if he happens to get some intel in the process, so much the better.]
Don't you find him far too needy, Fedya? You could stick anything into him and it wouldn't be enough.
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bother him. in a way that is entirely too private to even consider here, in this moment, where a slight slip might give dazai a foothold onto that. no, ultimately he's still going to kill everyone in this room when given the chance.
but fishing, how cute of you dazai. ] Is he? [ he faces dazai, a glance in chuuya's direction, as his bony hand reaches for the redhead. ] Why don't you show me? Let's see what makes him squirm the most.
[ there are already two available things they could use here and fyodor knows dazai is equally inventive with the limited resources available. ] Unless you want to still leave, Chuuya?
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[A little too defensive, maybe, but they can't blame him of being the one to have sought them out this time. Not that it's completely wrong, but that doesn't mean he's willing to admit it. He knows seeking out either of them is a bad idea.
And it seems like this time won't be any different. He tenses at Dazai's provocation, like he wants to react violently. He's immediately blushing.]
Like hell I'd run away.
[So the rat's chosen a side. And Dazai is annoyed from earlier. He probably should try to stop them, or at least not provoke them more than he already has, but that was never going to happen. He'll slide a hand around the back of either of their necks, and then take a sharp and sudden step back, pulling them with him, tugging them off balance and bringing them down to his level.
He'll lean in to bite at Dazai's lips, kissing him hard for a second. Then he'll repeat the same with Dostoevsky, letting it linger just a little longer, for no reason other than to annoy his ex-partner. Then he'll let go of them both. He'll go along with their plans.
But his expression is defiant: Try to impress him, then.]
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once againbecome a slippery slope with Fyodor.Still, Dazai is here, and while it's annoying to have to be on his guard a bit - not for Fyodor or for Chuuya, but for the potentially volatile combination of them - the rewards for success should also be good. He's more than willing, then, to try to stuff Chuuya with some gym equipment (and, frankly, the more impossible, the more entertaining the attempt should be) - until Chuuya yanks the both of them back, and Dazai's mood goes from willing to childishly annoyed.
The benefit of being kissed first (though how rude, kissing Fyodor longer!) is that he has a moment or two to form a plan and prepare putting it into action. Perhaps he would have a hard time hoisting Chuuya up in revenge, but it's not impossible - and with a little help, it should even be extremely easy.
There was a reason he didn't cut the ropes that had held him up, after all. Surely they're still close enough to where they are, too.
Falling back as Chuuya lets him go, Dazai groans and rolls over in supposed pain, conveniently towards Chuuya - and slips the rope around Chuuya's ankle before getting to his feet, staggering off to grab hold of some gym machine or other for balance.]
You really... don't know how to treat guests, Chuuya.
[Dazai just needs a teensy distraction from Fyodor at that point, and then he can use the gym machine and/or some weights on it to suddenly pull the rope, and hoist Chuuya up in his stead.
Or they can do something different, really, but starting with this much feels like cosmic justice.]
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he has a hamster in his room; a fridge filled with pudding; an expensive wine bottle in his pantry; his ushanka is stored away, deep in the closet. there is something transformative about this life he's pretending to lead that is becoming less of a pretence than he'd like.
and he knows dazai.
knows him deeply and intimately. they are alike, they are so close to being the same side of the coin but —
there is something rotted that reaches out, tenderly and wanting to be held. fyodor takes the kiss, and then while dazai does whatever dazai is going to do (which fyodor knows, he can tell) he provides a distraction by kissing chuuya. this is messy and open, inviting him in to take more, to bite to make him bleed if he so wishes. ]
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He'll let the rat kiss him, though, and he'll nip at his lips as he kisses back, hard but not hard enough to cause damage yet, wrapping an arm loosely around his back, enjoying the moment, the weight of him. He'll also stick his leg out and up into the air, like an offering.]
At least tie me properly so it can hold me. You're too damn lazy.
[He barely bothers to break the kiss to say it. Dazai will be able to hear it even if it's spoken directly against the rat's lips.
The thing is, he knew what he signed up for when he decided to stay. There was a chance he could get the rat to side with him instead - that the rat would want Dazai to bleed - but if the two of them are turning on him, then what comes next is going to be inevitable. His only chance would have been to run. He wouldn't have been able to avoid it even if he did run.
So he's going to act like he doesn't care. He's not impressed. Whatever the two of them might want to do, he can take it, and if Dazai wants to get back at him for earlier, he can take it even better than Dazai did. Even knowing he won't be able to use his Ability for it.]
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Dazai is lazy, and after being shut down so bluntly, he's less inclined to work for anything than before. Add to that the fact that Chuuya is (pretending to be) willing to go along with his plan, and Dazai loses all interest in doing anything of the sort.
What he is going to do, is pull at the leg Chuuya is still standing on. Chuuya had pulled them off balance, trying to make them both fall; he can have a taste of his own medicine.]
I'm not doing it anymore.
[Sitting and sulking like an overgrown child is clearly a much better plan. Considering what he came here to suffer, he's still ahead on a technicality; there are worse things than stopping now.]
I think I'll just blow up Chuuya's wine cellar, and go back home.
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honestly, though dazai's moods and all are something fyodor considers familiar. on a good day, he'd even admit that he can deal with them just fine and enjoy the irrationality, the childishness, the games — he is not too dissimilar though he opts to act a certain way. more taciturn, a self-imposed exile from humanity and ability users.
with the addition of chuuya their usual game is off. fyodor feels it, like an uncomfortable sheen of sweat on his skin.
he moves, quicker than one would expect from fyodor and allows chuuya to fall with the pull from dazai. sorry, godling, he can't land on a heap on the floor while dazai is loose here. instead, fyodor tries to take advantage of the moment: chuuya falling, dazai pulling on that leg to openly attempt to tackle dazai onto the floor.
maybe chuuya's plan to make dazai bleed is the better option.
and they're all going to act like toddlers here apparently. ]
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He lands, throwing out an arm to break the fall and to provide leverage, and immediately his leg comes up in a kick aimed at Dazai.]
Like hell you're leaving!
[And seeing the rat tackle Dazai is satisfying. This is turning into a different kind of thrill, almost a free-for-all, except with alliances. It's funny. Or it's at least fun. It's unpredictable. Is the rat on his side now?
He doubts it, but maybe for the moment he is.]
I know you're not that much of a coward, Dazai.
[He's going to get up, and then join the pile, however it ends up.]
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The kick hurts, but not enough to count as serious, especially from Chuuya; the fall is a bit rough-going, though, especially with a Fyodor-shaped anchor on Dazai's leg(s). While Dazai manages to catch himself to some degree, he's too late to avoid a collision with the floor completely: his mouth makes contact - not quite a full-on crash, but enough of an impact that his lips will swell and probably bleed some, if only on the inside.]
What... does cowardice have to do with it?
[He literally just boldly announced his plans to ruin your stupidly expensive wine collection! How does that make him a coward, or indeed anything but a man of exquisite taste?!?]
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and his look is tender, fitting for a moment of intimacy between lovers and not what he does next: fyodor jabs his elbow against dazai's spine, hard and bruising— bitterness in such a blow, an accusation (this is what you've made of me, this is what you've reduced me to and i will make you bleed for it). then his mouth, stained with his own blood and chuuya's previously- mean, sharp teeth in the juncture between jaw and ear, a rebuke (shut up) but it is only blood he seeks, no flesh and he waits
expects
welcomes the punishment for his infliction of such violence.
( chuuya is not forgotten, of course, fyodor has him in the periphery of his awareness, knows where his next bruise might come from. is he on your side still, chuuya? — a bloody smile, he thinks blood looks better on the godling but blood is so familiar to dostoevsky. from womb to tomb, even muzzled and collared like this, he will never let anyone forget what he is. what he can do. and what he wants to do. ) ]
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phone tag apologies in advance!
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feel free to assume Dazai is coming whenever is convenient tbh
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cw for sacrilege tbh... i don't even really mean it but i hardcore had to do it
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