Thread continuation for
thetaintedsorrow.
[from here]
Heh. I can think of plenty of people who'd call me vain for drinking to that one. Lucky I'm drinking with you instead.
[Chuuya drinks, naturally.]
Well, never have I ever been a sexy redhead.
Heh. I can think of plenty of people who'd call me vain for drinking to that one. Lucky I'm drinking with you instead.
[Chuuya drinks, naturally.]
Well, never have I ever been a sexy redhead.

post-murder
He might feel a little more regret about killing a human being if it weren't Dazai Osamu.
It's really his own fault anyway. Dazai had approached him to taunt him about breaking mafia-Chuuya's heart, how cruel~~ He'd even already been holding his book. Dazai deserves it-
No, he can't say it's Dazai's fault he died. He's the one who transformed his book into his gun and shot Dazai point-blank in the chest before Dazai could react, and he's the one who followed that up with two shots to the head. The responsibility is squarely on him.
He thought he'd feel worse about it.
With some effort, he dragged Dazai's body to the river in the middle of the night, and pushed him in.
It takes a few days for Dazai's body to be found. That's the same for all people named Dazai Osamu - when they do manage to die, they're so decomposed by the time they're found that it's hard to identify him.
But identify him they do. Chuuya doesn't need to ask around: Cat's state of agitation gets the notice of a few of the authors, who pester the cat until he mentions 'a very useful detective was found dead'.
Chuuya texts his boyfriend. If the government knows, the mafia probably knows, or will know soon.]
How are things going over there?
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Dazai is dead, a war is brewing, and Chuuya had cried. He’d cried over the dumb bastard who’d made his life hell on earth since the day they’d met. What the actual fuck is wrong with him? He should be happy...celebrating with wine and laughing at the bastard’s untimely demise...so much for suicide.
His phone buzzes and he’s suddenly snapped out of his reflection, and he feels just a tiny glimmer of hope when he sees who it’s from. Other-Chuuya always brightens his day...]
We’re waiting for the ADA to make a move.
Akutagawa has gone on a rampage. It’s only a matter of time before the death toll climbs into the double digits.
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...He still doesn't regret it.]
They're just assuming it was you guys, huh?
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I’m hoping their president will be the voice of reason here.
[A pause.]
I honestly never thought I’d live to see him die.
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I thought he'd be harder to kill.
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You’re the one who killed him???
Why??
[Suddenly the bullets make complete sense.]
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[...But other-Chuuya may not remember much of that conversation, considering how drunk he was at the time.]
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He doesn’t remember plotting a murder.]
I didn’t expect you to actually do it..
But
He had it coming.
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[Even knowing that other people, people he doesn't hate, will get hurt, he still doesn't.]
It's a surprise someone didn't put a bullet in his head sooner.
You'll probably be busy for a while, but I'd like to meet when you get a chance.
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[He’s silent for a moment before he types:]
You can come over tonight. I’ll be home.
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[And in the early evening, he rings Chuuya's doorbell again.]
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Hey. You want a drink or anything?
[There’s something off about the way he walks over to the mini-bar. It’s like he’s struggling to keep himself upright despite being completely sober.]
Anything you want in particular...?
[He grips the bottle of sake so hard it shatters in his hand, glass shards embedding themselves into his leather glove.]
Oh. Oops...
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Hey, don't-
[-mafia-Chuuya breaks a glass bottle.]
Shit, hold still, where do you keep your antiseptic?
[As opposed to his minimal response to killing Dazai, just mafia-Chuuya potentially getting hurt gets poet-Chuuya worried.]
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[Chuuya mutters under his breath; if Poet-Chuuya looks closely, he’ll see a glowing red mark in a tendril like shape climbing up Chuuya neck and stopping right beneath his collar. It’s the unmistakable source of his odd behavior, as well as his inability to feel much pain as he clenches his first and drives the glass in deeper, shredding his glove and embedding it into the palm of his hand.
Beads of crimson well up and drip down his hand, but all Chuuya does in response is smile an incredibly unsettling smile.]
It’s fine...it’s fine...it’s fi...ne...
[Only once before has Corruption activated on its own, and that was the night Dazai betrayed the Mafia, and Chuuya in turn. Now that the bastard is dead it’s happened again, and the only reason he hasn’t completely lost his mind already is because Corruption’s progression is much slower when he doesn’t activate it on purpose.
His eyes look bleary and unfocused as he turns to look at poet-Chuuya. He looks terrifying, like something out of a horror movie.]
I should be happy...yes...happy...am I happy...? Tell me...
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He hasn't seen them before. They aren't the same as the ink markings that cover Chuuya when he breaks down. But he knows what this is, because there's only one thing it could be.
There’s also another part of my ability, it’s “true form” I guess you’d say. Once I activate it I just keep destroying everything in my path until I die. Unless someone nullifies it.
How do I stop it?
You find a shitty bastard named Dazai and get him to nullify it. That’s the only way I know.
And Chuuya just killed Dazai.
Against Chuuya's better judgment, he takes a step towards the terrifying apparition that is his boyfriend.]
It's fine.
[No, no it's not fine, and Chuuya's aware that there's not much he can do in this situation.]
I think you'd be happier if you took a nap. Lying down with you makes me happier.
[Maybe if mafia-Chuuya goes to sleep, his ability will turn off automatically, or it'll give poet-Chuuya an opportunity to steal his phone and beg for some kind of help. Even if it puts him squarely in the mafia's sights, it's better than letting his boyfriend go insane.]
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The last time he’d been in this situation he’d been able to be snapped back to his senses by Akutagawa and Kouyou, just in time.
There’s still a chance for him to come back to his senses, and if anyone could do snap him out of it, it’s Poet-Chuuya.
He takes a few steps towards his boyfriend, walking as if he’s being weighed down by some invisible, heavy force. He stops a few inches away before reaching out with his bloodied hand to cup other-Chuuya’s cheek.]
How did it feel? Killing him?
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There's blood on Chuuya's cheek. There's blood on Chuuya's cheek because mafia-Chuuya is cupping his cheek with his bloody hand. Mafia-Chuuya is far from stable right now.]
I was glad he wasn't going to bother you anymore.
[Chuuya lightly squeezes his boyfriend's arm.]
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[Chuuya admires the way his boyfriend looks painted in blood, and he slowly edges him backwards toward the couch, eyes finally regaining the sharp focus of a predator.]
I loved him once...once...a long time ago...
[He crowds poet-Chuuya until he has no choice but to fall back on the couch.]
You must’ve been beautiful in that moment...the moment you took his life...
[He straddles poet-Chuuyas lap, arms sliding around his neck as he nips at his earlobe.]
I was supposed to be the one...I wanted to see his face...when he died...
[Chuuya’s breathing is hot and heavy as he laps at the quickly drying blood on poet-Chuuya’s cheek.]
You saved me...didn’t you?
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But - poet-Chuuya can't give up yet. He'll keep trying to help his boyfriend.]
You're the one who saved me. And now you're going somewhere I can't follow.
[Insanity isn't a refuge for long. Chuuya has enough memories of sterile white walls and ink stains to know that it doesn't last.
That said, it must be utterly mad for him to wrap his arms around his boyfriend, holding him tight.]
You told me you wouldn't leave me. You said you wouldn't leave.
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He can taste ink, and it mixes wonderfully with the blood in his mouth.]
I’m not leaving. I’m right here.
[There’s a fight going on in Chuuya’s head right now; his original self is screaming and crying at him to stop, and his heart wrenches in his chest when he feels the familiar warmth of those arms wrapping around him.
When he looks at Poet-Chuuya once more, ink and blood dripping from his lips, it’s with a terrified expression.]
I don’t...want to leave...
[A single tear rolls down his cheek. The mark on his neck is very slowly beginning to recede.]
Save me...
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That doesn't matter right now, because, mafia-Chuuya is starting to come back to himself.]
I've got you.
[He holds his boyfriend even closer, desperately praying for things to be okay.]
I love you. I'm not leaving you, so please don't leave me.
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Chuuya...
[He repeats it for himself as well as his boyfriend, over and over again until the mark finally disappears from his skin. Without Corruption’s influence, however all the pain comes rushing back to him, and he flinches as he looks down at his bloodied hand.]
What...what was I...doing?
[He holds his head, trying to steady himself. The taste of ink and blood are still strong on his tongue.]
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Thank god you're okay...!
[But his first priority is hugging his boyfriend as close as he can.]
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Oh no...
[Shit. Shit shit shit. How could he have let that happen again???
He’s mortified when he sees how upset other-Chuuya is, and his gut churns when he sees the brutal bite mark he’d left.]
I’m sorry...I’m so sorry...
[He could’ve killed poet-Chuuya, or at the very least seriously injured him if he hadn’t snapped out of it sooner. He holds his boyfriend tight, shaking slightly.]
You shouldn’t have had to deal with that...
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If I wasn't here to deal with that, things would've been worse. I'm just glad you're alright.
[He rubs other-Chuuya's back gently. They're both going to be alright.]
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