i don't particularly know, no. it has never been of interest to look beyond this at a more personal level, you understand? actions and emotions have interconnecting points, but those are often irrational decisions which happen when the person is mislead by their own blindness.
you are having sex with him and yet you say this so casually and as if it is of no consequence.
i wish he hadn't turned me down, that it had gotten over and done with.
Sex is sex. People have it for all sorts of reasons, y'know. And what kind of blindness are you talking about?
With Dazai, the fact he hasn't fucked you speaks volumes more than him fucking around. That means it means something to him that you really want it. The guy is a coward, y'know?
Things that don't have consequence, he doesn't really care if he fucks them up.
Yeah it has consequences, that's why he's always giving his one night stands my number so he doesn't have to deal with them. If I wasn't a professional I'd change my fucking voicemail to 'This is not Dazai Osamu, I'm sorry you slept with a playboy but I'm not him, bye'.
Is it that hard for you to imagine Dazai is emotionally invested in you enough to care about possibly fucking it up by doing his usual of diving dick first into things?
i don't think it would be that unprofessional as it would be hilarious. of course, then anyone who got through to your voicemail would know what dazai is doing. rather embarrassing for an ex-mafia executive to do.
no, but [ he considers ] i don't commit to things lightly. what dazai wants and what i want may just simply not be compatible.
[ is fyodor admitting he's interested? yes. least he can do after trampling over chuuya's boundaries to ask personal questions. ]
Nah, they'd just think it was hilarious I kept getting pranked by a traitor no matter how many burn numbers I get.
[Oh.... oh, that sure is an admission. Chuuya considers his words for a moment. He could be very mean here, but... Well it honestly was kind of pathetic, watching Dazai pine.]
It's possible your ideas of commitment are different, yeah, but I'm not sure about what that entails in terms of your wants. This is just a guess on my part, but for Dazai, sex is just sex. Commitment is emotional, I think.
I only know of one previous time Dazai was in love, but suffice to say he'd do absolutely anything for them.
he's not in love with me. [ that reply comes without second thought. ] fond, yes; familiar, perhaps. and i do not love him, he is familiar like another side of myself—i can talk to him without needing to explain everything, i can trust him to execute a plan right but love is devotion. it is sacrifice and commitment and forever.
it's an oath, like the ones you are familiar with. and a prayer that causes your voice to waver. it's not half of something or a shared thing. you know of the kind of emotion i speak of, don't you, chuuya-san?
I don't exactly have a lot of experience with romance, so fuck if I know. But I do know Dazai looks at you differently than anyone else, he considers your needs in a way he doesn't most people. it's affection, though I ain't the man to ask if you wanna know the depths of it.
[There were a lot of reasons Chuuya struggled with concepts of affection beyond giving it to those he cherished-- Those reasons obviously being what he was, who he was, but also how he'd grown up, who he'd made himself into.
But devotion? Devotion was the core of him, his blood and bones.]
Yeah, I do.
But I also know devotion comes in many forms. I'm devoted to Mori, to the Mafia, but I sure as fuck wouldn't kiss Boss. That'd be weird.
There's different kinds of devotion, and people show it differently too.
[ fyodor would very much like to point out that applies to chuuya more than himself. is dazai not living with chuuya? sleeps with him? is with him? he has no interest in inserting himself where he does not belong in such an intimate manner. he's not interested in being the third part of something incomplete.
if circumstances were different he would consider it but the more he thinks back on the kiss he shared with dazai and the choices he makes in this world, and who it seems he really belongs to—]
of course devotion is different. and that is the most horrifying image you have ever shared with me, chuuya-san, i must go wash my eyes out.
Ugh, now I need alcohol, because you've put it in my head!! Fucking hell!!
Do not drink fucking acid, just drink a bottle of vodka you drama queen. While you're at it, share some with me because you now owe me a drink for this shit.
[Ugh, he needs to forget this conversation ever happened just for that mental image!!!]
[ hesitation again, fyodor is clearly thinking over something. or plotting but when is he not? ]
you know the set of small houses near that atrocious statue place, yes? third door with the scuffed handle. beneath the stairs is a door, easy to miss.
[ when chuuya arrives he'll find said door halfopen, and fyodor waiting inside. it isn't much of a space really-there is only a circular window high up which provides a clear escape route. the stairs over the room creak whenever someone uses them, alerting fyodor to any movements in the house. there is a bed, neatly made and mostly unused, then a desk, two chairs and stacks of books and notes. nothing here is too important, the notes are clearly a sort of guidelines of this place fyodor has been working on in his spare time.
his ushanka is folded on top of a stack of books, and there is the bow of a musical instrument on the floor by the bed. the only thing that looks recent is how the chairs have been arranged and the two chipped teacups that will serve as glasses. the bottle is unopened and clearly expensive despite the rest of the room's things which probably are closer to garbage than anything.
[You know, he really shouldn't judge how a guy lives when he spent his childhood calling a dried out sewer tunnel 'home' but...
Damn. What the fuck? He's living like this willingly?
Chuuya looks around the dingy room from where he stands on the steps, the wood creaking ominously beneath his feet.]
You know, I'm pretty sure the inn isn't so crowded you couldn't find a place less likely to fall down around your ears if you sneezed too hard? But I guess this works.
[He'll take a seat in one of those chairs, quirking a brow at the strange dissonance between the teacups and the clearly pricey vodka.] Nice taste in booze, though.
[ he lives like this willingly and it's more presentable than his second hiding place. you got the tour of the luxury accommodations. the second place doesn't even have a bed. the second place is not even a room intended to be a bedroom but...no one is ever seeing that location.
fyodor looks up, gesture towards the chair as chuuya takes a seat and plays the part of perfectly polite host as if he's not in ...well, here. ] It would be rude to offer you anything else. [ he would offer it to anyone who he trusted enough to invite here, which honestly? not even a list of names. ]
The inn is also loud, out in the open, and thus an easy place to kill someone. [ he pours out a generous cup of vodka for both of them and then sits. ]
[Fyodor please, have some care for your own comfort??? At least bring in some bedding, damn. Chuuya's already memorized the location of this place and is planning to bring a few things over just so he isn't stuck thinking of the man living this pathetically.]
Well, you have my thanks for your hospitality. [He settles into his chair, quirking a brow as Fyodor pours.] Yha know, there are ways to make that a little less likely even in a crowded inn.
[he'll take the cup up, raising it in a toast.] Cheers. Or is it 'Nas Zdorovie'? Can't quite remember.
[ which, if he does, might cause fyodor a minor crisis or two because he expects nothing of the sort. he inclines his head. ] I am certain there are ways to do that but the risk is still high, especially given that we have no control as to who comes and what they remember when arriving.
[ fyodor raises his own, a small but genuine at the phrase. ] Close, it's vashe zdorov'ye, to your health, Chuuya-san.
[ because toasting to his own is simply a terribly ironic toast. down the vodka goes and he feels the warmth spread instantly. ]
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you are having sex with him and yet you say this so casually and as if it is of no consequence.
i wish he hadn't turned me down, that it had gotten over and done with.
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With Dazai, the fact he hasn't fucked you speaks volumes more than him fucking around. That means it means something to him that you really want it. The guy is a coward, y'know?
Things that don't have consequence, he doesn't really care if he fucks them up.
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dazai's approach, as you say, is recreational but i doubt it is that simple and consequenceless.
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Is it that hard for you to imagine Dazai is emotionally invested in you enough to care about possibly fucking it up by doing his usual of diving dick first into things?
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no, but [ he considers ] i don't commit to things lightly. what dazai wants and what i want may just simply not be compatible.
[ is fyodor admitting he's interested? yes. least he can do after trampling over chuuya's boundaries to ask personal questions. ]
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[Oh.... oh, that sure is an admission. Chuuya considers his words for a moment. He could be very mean here, but... Well it honestly was kind of pathetic, watching Dazai pine.]
It's possible your ideas of commitment are different, yeah, but I'm not sure about what that entails in terms of your wants. This is just a guess on my part, but for Dazai, sex is just sex. Commitment is emotional, I think.
I only know of one previous time Dazai was in love, but suffice to say he'd do absolutely anything for them.
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it's an oath, like the ones you are familiar with. and a prayer that causes your voice to waver. it's not half of something or a shared thing. you know of the kind of emotion i speak of, don't you, chuuya-san?
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[There were a lot of reasons Chuuya struggled with concepts of affection beyond giving it to those he cherished-- Those reasons obviously being what he was, who he was, but also how he'd grown up, who he'd made himself into.
But devotion? Devotion was the core of him, his blood and bones.]
Yeah, I do.
But I also know devotion comes in many forms. I'm devoted to Mori, to the Mafia, but I sure as fuck wouldn't kiss Boss. That'd be weird.
There's different kinds of devotion, and people show it differently too.
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if circumstances were different he would consider it but the more he thinks back on the kiss he shared with dazai and the choices he makes in this world, and who it seems he really belongs to—]
of course devotion is different. and that is the most horrifying image you have ever shared with me, chuuya-san, i must go wash my eyes out.
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[And he doesn't even want to imagine what Mori's type is, thank you very much. The man jokes about Elise, but he's pretty sure those are jokes.]
High proof alcohol works wonders, if you need it.
tw; substance abuse, self-harm
muriatic acid. nothing else will do for this cleanse.
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Do not drink fucking acid, just drink a bottle of vodka you drama queen. While you're at it, share some with me because you now owe me a drink for this shit.
[Ugh, he needs to forget this conversation ever happened just for that mental image!!!]
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[ but chuuya isn't wrong, fyodor does have a bottle of vodka stashed away. ]
i would prefer avoiding being inebriated in a public bar.
[ p a r a n o i d ]
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[He kind of doubts that Fyodor is that touchy.]
It doesn't have to be a bar. Is that a no, or a 'let me pick the place?'
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[ he lies, he wouldn't even be offended if a joke about that cocktail was made
there is a long pause. then:]
how good is your sense of direction?
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[Though he might be offended if Fyodor made it with milk-- He's a perfectly fine height, okay!!!]
Pretty good. You can't rely on maps all the time on the job. So where do you want me?
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[ hesitation again, fyodor is clearly thinking over something. or plotting but when is he not? ]
you know the set of small houses near that atrocious statue place, yes? third door with the scuffed handle. beneath the stairs is a door, easy to miss.
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Inside or outside?
[He's already on his way out, frankly looking forward to an excuse to drink.]
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[ when chuuya arrives he'll find said door halfopen, and fyodor waiting inside. it isn't much of a space really-there is only a circular window high up which provides a clear escape route. the stairs over the room creak whenever someone uses them, alerting fyodor to any movements in the house. there is a bed, neatly made and mostly unused, then a desk, two chairs and stacks of books and notes. nothing here is too important, the notes are clearly a sort of guidelines of this place fyodor has been working on in his spare time.
his ushanka is folded on top of a stack of books, and there is the bow of a musical instrument on the floor by the bed. the only thing that looks recent is how the chairs have been arranged and the two chipped teacups that will serve as glasses. the bottle is unopened and clearly expensive despite the rest of the room's things which probably are closer to garbage than anything.
yes bitch he does live like this.
you're welcome chuuya ]
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Damn. What the fuck? He's living like this willingly?
Chuuya looks around the dingy room from where he stands on the steps, the wood creaking ominously beneath his feet.]
You know, I'm pretty sure the inn isn't so crowded you couldn't find a place less likely to fall down around your ears if you sneezed too hard? But I guess this works.
[He'll take a seat in one of those chairs, quirking a brow at the strange dissonance between the teacups and the clearly pricey vodka.] Nice taste in booze, though.
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fyodor looks up, gesture towards the chair as chuuya takes a seat and plays the part of perfectly polite host as if he's not in ...well, here. ] It would be rude to offer you anything else. [ he would offer it to anyone who he trusted enough to invite here, which honestly? not even a list of names. ]
The inn is also loud, out in the open, and thus an easy place to kill someone. [ he pours out a generous cup of vodka for both of them and then sits. ]
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Well, you have my thanks for your hospitality. [He settles into his chair, quirking a brow as Fyodor pours.] Yha know, there are ways to make that a little less likely even in a crowded inn.
[he'll take the cup up, raising it in a toast.] Cheers. Or is it 'Nas Zdorovie'? Can't quite remember.
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[ fyodor raises his own, a small but genuine at the phrase. ] Close, it's vashe zdorov'ye, to your health, Chuuya-san.
[ because toasting to his own is simply a terribly ironic toast. down the vodka goes and he feels the warmth spread instantly. ]
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tw; suicide mention
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