Purpose! AU

Purpose! AU

Tags: major character death, depressed chuuya, hints of soukoku, hinted dissociative amnesia, decay of angels chuuya, fyodor pretty much wants chuuya to join him lol he's so whipped

I'm planning on drawing for this au too, but the quality of the pictures will be bad if I post them thru my phone. So here's my art account, posted straight from my drawing tablet, it's mostly mha art so far but I'm going to add hints of bsd in there too.

Art acc: @god-shit-girl-art

"Everything you have, and everything you've lost, I'll give it a purpose. Your past, your present, and your future, give it to me. And I will give you purpose."

Chuuya laid achingly amidst the softness around him. Linen sheets and silk pillowcases danced around him on his bed, and yet, he paid them no mind.

A heart can only take so much. But in his case, it seemed as if it had nothing left, nothing to give, nothing to own, nothing to fight for.

It had been 2 months since Dazai mysteriously died. He feels guilty for the fact that he cannot even remember how it happened. The death of his....someone....and his mind couldn't even grant him the decency to remember.

It was like that in cases of trauma. Just like the heart, the mind can only take so much before it breaks. Shattering like a mirror, some pieces will inevitably break apart, never to be seen again.

All he knows is that before he died, however he died, Dazai had used his Ability on Chuuya. And now that he was gone, so was his Ability. Chuuya no longer has the power of gravity manipulation, but for some odd reason, he wasn't mourning over it.

Whether Dazai had left him a note, a phrase, a word, or anything at all, he didn't know. It was all a part of the shattered mirror that was his mind. He couldn't even remember how he died, or if he even left him anything. Part of him wished, prayed, begged for this to all be some sort of scheme, one of Dazai's old tricks. He wasn't dead, no, this is just part of his plan. Somehow, some way he and the ADA will fix this mess, and they'll be together again. Someday, any day now.

....right?

The creak of a large wooden door could be heard from across the room, reminding Chuuya of where he was. He didn't bother getting up, or even looking in its direction. He laid there like a lifeless dog, after losing its owner.

"Nakahara Chuuya," came a voice. Deep and laced with an accent. Chuuya knew who it was, and was half-hoping to hear the sound of an ADA member, telling him to get up and that Dazai needed him for the next phase of his plan.

When Chuuya didn't reply, footsteps answered instead. The sound of hard leather soles against the expensive polished wood, it rang in his ears. He never bothered to really listen to them before.

"I have to admit, it was hard to find you," said the man, tall and slender, his shadow doing justice to his sleek and mysterious nature.

"This penthouse of yours, seems far too big for just one person. However I do believe you'd been visited many a night, correct?"

Asshole.

Did he just call Chuuya a whore?

Perhaps it was the thinly veiled insult, or how Chuuya just realized that a powerful enemy whose strength outweighed his own was now in his bedroom, but the ginger found the strength to sit back up. However slowly and groggily, with his hair a red-orange mess that framed his face and a dress shirt unbuttoned across his chest. His blue eyes seemed more grey, now that Fyodor looks at it. Were they always this dull?

"What do you want you anemic son of a bitch," Chuuya said, it wasn't a question.

Fyodor didn't answer. Instead the two stared at each other, one with eyes posing no threat and one with eyes that couldn't pose any even if it wanted to. In his mind, the Russian compared the man's blue-grey eyes to that of an empty glass. Nothing to give, nothing but potential.

"Dazai's dead." Chuuya said finally. His voice was hoarse and he could taste his thick saliva. How long had it been since he brushed his teeth or combed his hair? Was he wearing the same clothes he did that day 2 months ago? Or was it that night?

"I am aware, yes." Fyodor said, his voice and demeanor unwavering. What did this asshole want?

Chuuya looked down, facing his hands that laid aimlessly on his knees, legs folded, blankets ruffled and forgotten. There were wounds on them. Why were there wounds on them?

"However, I am not here for him."

Chuuya looked back at the dark-haired man, noticing a change in his attire. His coat that had once terrorized countless innocents in its dark tone was now white, with dark feathers around the collar. He could barely see what was inside, though.

"You look unwell." He said.

"Yeah? Great, thanks." Chuuya retorted sarcastically. "That's what I was goin' for, actually."

Fyodor chuckled at his comment, voice deep and alluring.

"You know, Chuuya, a man is only as great as his biggest weakness."

"Fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Fyodor maintained his smile, and began walking to the side of the room slowly, leather shoes rhythmically playing the wooden floor like a piano. Slow and steady, each note just like the last. Like it was leading up to something.

"It's a story of power. Lose and obtain. Give and take. Something must be lost in order for another to be found."

Fyodor took one of the floor-length curtains in one of his pale, slender hands. His illuminating lilac eyes remained focused on the redhead.

"You lost one of your biggest crutches," He said. "And in turn, one of your biggest weaknesses. Ride a bicycle with training wheels, and you'll never truly learn to ride without them."

"Wait a second," Chuuya finally gained the strength to speak again. "Are you talking about Dazai?"

Fyodor nodded, as if he was happy to hear Chuuya was on the right track.

"The man was a necessary loss. The final stepping stone to your metamorphosis. Because of him, and everyone who you've lost before, you now have the choice to become something greater."

"And what's that?" Chuuya scowled. "Another one of your chess pieces? Another pawn to your sick little game? Dazai is dead, you've won. What more could you possibly want from me?"

"Ah, you take the king away," Fyodor said, "but the queen still has all the power."

With that, his hand flew to the side, opening the curtains wide enough to see the world below it, the world outside. Cars and streetlights, people out on the town, the moon shining just as bright as before, as if nothing had changed.

"Even without your Ability, I believe you still have the potential to create more," He said, staring up into the stars.

Chuuya emerged from the darkness of his canopy bed, the first time he stood on his own two feet in ages. He walked to Fyodor's side, entranced by the light of the moon.

"Ah, how fitting for it to be a third quarter tonight." Fyodor said.

"A what?"

"A third quarter. Only half the moon is visible tonight, the other is shadowed in the dark. And yet, it's still just as beautiful, no?"

Fyodor faced Chuuya, albeit having to look down a little bit to look him in the eye.

"Everything you have, and everything you've lost, I'll give it a purpose. Join me, give me your past, your present and your future, trust it with me and I will give you a new purpose."

Fyodor stretched his hand out to Chuuya.

"Together, the moon will shine even brighter than before."

"What do you say, Chuuya Nakahara?"

| It Hurts | TodoBaku /DekuBaku |

TW: Self harm

Katsuki's bad habits start creeping back up again after Izuku leaves UA. Luckily, Shoto is here to lend a hand.

9:28pm, Thursday

Recovery Girl had an expected, yet, unwanted visitor.

Weakly stepping into her clinic was Class 1-A's homeroom teacher Shota Aizawa with a young boy named Katsuki by his side.

To say the boy was disheveled would be an understatement. Almost every inch of his skin was littered with cuts and scars, even some had burns of them from what looked like small, concentrated explosions. He looked like a child had covered him in deep red stickers.

The nurse let out a sigh of worry. She didn't need to say anything as a simple exchange of knowing nods from the teacher to her accomplished more than necessary. Mr. Aizawa carefully led his student to an all-so-familiar bed and sat on the chair next to him. They had been in here so many times the chair was already sitting there, morbidly waiting for their return.

Recovery Girl took Katsuki's hands and examined his wrists. The cuts were not as deep as before, but there were far more of them, implying a rapid, repetitive motion instead of deep, long, slow ones. She rolled up his pant leg which revealed a set of bruises littered all over each of them, no visible pattern, though it seemed similar to the ones he had when he "fell" down the stairs a couple times that one day.

Now for the part she was looking forward to the least. She couldn't bare it, the way her heart broke each time she did it. Slowly raising her head, the nurse met the boy eye-to-eye. Yet, his pupils weren't facing her. They were facing forward, but they weren't particularly looking at anything. Its like a vast hole had opened up and sucked out all the life from his eyes. Aside from that, there were cuts on his lips, bruises on his cheek, his nose was bleeding, and a deep gash had appeared under his eye. Yet his expression remained the same, empty, lifeless, stoic, despite the deep physical pain.

"As usual," the old woman started, trying her best to break the silence and replace it with something more...wholesome. Yet the news was going to be rather far from it. "The sheer amount of injuries will take a while to heal completely, which I'm guessing is what you want," she tried to meet the boy's gaze again, but he still stared into nothing. "Even with my Quirk I can only do so much. Anyway, I suggest you stay the night. There's nothing much I can do, but at least I can ensure you won't be alone, if that's okay with you." She turned to face Aizawa, whose head was in his hand as he slouched forwards in his chair. His long black hair was tied into a messy ponytail with a couple strands in the way of his face. He looked up from where he had leaned his weight on his hand to reply to her, letting her know he'd be okay with staying to watch over his student. With that she went to gather some tools she would need for the procedure. With her gone, Aizawa took the chance to speak.

"You said you weren't gonna do this anymore." He said.

"I know. Sorry." Came Katsuki's rarely monotone voice. He didn't even bother to look his teacher in the eye, not that he could anyway.

"You're worrying me, you know that? And if your friends and family knew they'd be worried sick as well, you do know that, right?"

"I know. Sorry." Katsuki repeated.

"You could've gotten seriously hurt."

"I know. Sorry."

"Hurting yourself won't bring him back."

"....".

Katsuki's lips moved as if he was about to say something, but after a second of thought he shut it again. He didn't answer him after that.

Recovery Girl activated her Quirk but as it could take a couple hours, she needed to cover the wounds to ensure that they wouldn't get infected during the wait. After that she left the clinic and went home, leaving a sleeping Aizawa next to a, to use a more accurate term, passed out Katsuki.

12:17am, Friday

Katsuki's eyes opened. The whole room was dark as the lights were off but he could still make out what it looked like. To his right was a curtain hiding away another bed. To his left, a bedside table, on it a phone, wallet, and set of keys, as well as a sleeping Aizawa sitting next to it. Seated upright, he took a look at his arm. The cuts that had just been made hours before were almost entirely healed. All that remained were thin red lines that stretched across his wrist. With his other hand he traced a finger on them in a perpendicular motion, feeling the ridges of the scars paint patterns on his sense of touch. Looking around he realized no one else was there, and that it was already past 12. With nothing better to do, but not without a rather unstable mental condition, he quietly got off the bed and snuck out of the room.

The halls of UA were darker than he expected. He reached out a hand and felt around the walls to know where he was going. Once he got to the stairs he heard a set of footsteps coming closer, forcing him to race up the steps in case it was Aizawa ready to give him another lecture. He didn't count how many steps or staircases he went up until he was face-to-face with a door. It was the only thing on that floor which proved he was on the school rooftop. He was about to climb back down when he noticed the door was slightly ajar, not locked like he had thought it was. Hesitantly he walked out and was met with the cool breeze of the early morning city. The cement was cold under his feet and the wind hit his skin like it knew something. He hadn't felt so tranquil in such a long time.

The breeze swept his messy, spiky hair out of the way, enabling him to get a clear view of the sky above him. He finally understood why the sky was always associated with heaven or with gods. What he saw was ethereal. The clouds were of a light blue and swayed across the canvas as little bright stars littered the deep blue ocean. The moon was nonexistant that night.

"Bakugou," came a voice.

Katsuki turned his head to meet his eyes with his classmate. Red and white strands of messy bedhead swayed around his face, grounded by his scalp. Shoto's eyes were wide in what wasn't exactly shock, but of something more tranquil. He had seen something far more beautiful than the ethereal night sky right then and there.

The boys were silent for a second.

"Hey." Katsuki greeted. He didn't know exactly what to say.

"I, uh..." Shoto started. "I heard that something happened to you, so I went to the clinic to check and, uh, you weren't there, so...." the awkwardness in his voice interrupted his speech.

They were quiet again. It was like the only sound in the world was of the wind howling in the distance.

Suddenly, a soft burst of laughter erupted from their mouths.

"What was that?" Katsuki asked, a hand loosely covering his awkward smile. "You sounded so nervous!"

"I dunno! It just happened!" Shoto laughed so hard he snorted, causing Katsuki to pause yet laugh some more. As soon as they quieted down, the two boys sat side by side on the floor with their eyes gazing up at the stars.

"I heard what happened." Shoto started. "What's been happening...Bakugou, I'm so-"

"Save it." Katsuki cut him off. Yet there was a slight lack of venom in his voice, as if he was genuinely upset but...not angry.

"I'm not here to hear some bullshit about how you care about me, and how you love me, and how you're there for me, I just..." He looked down in what seemed like...shame? Grief? Disappointment? "I just want you to stay. That's it. No talking necessary."

Silence. Then,

"We don't have to talk." Shoto spoke up.

"But to be fair, I don't like what he did either." Katsuki's eyes widened as he swiftly turned to look at Shoto.

"What?"

"He left. Instead of trusting in us that we would help him, he went off to deal with it on his own. He didn't think about or care what it would do to us, he was only thinking about himself." He said.

"It was stupid."

"Yeah, it was really stupid." Katsuki smirked and looked away.

"He shouldn't have done that."

"Yeah."

"I honestly don't know who's hurting from that decision more, him or you."

There was silence again.

"He doesn't deserve you, Bakugou." Shoto said, yet his eyes were focused on a cricket that had made its way to the rooftop in front of them.

"After everything you've been through together, he doesn't get to just leave. He doesn't get to do that to you."

Katsuki's eyes softened, and he looked away again, focusing instead on his criss-crossed legs.

"You don't have to say that."

"I want to."

"Okay."

"I think it's true."

"Yeah."

Katsuki looked up at the sky again. There they were, the light blue clouds, the shining distant stars, the deep blue ocean above and yet, this time, the moon was present. Rising and shining like it had been there all along. But for some reason, Katsuki only noticed it was there now.

Maybe it was there the whole time, and he didn't even realize it.

He leaned his head onto his friend's shoulder.

"I think it is, too."

_______________________

WOOO BEEN A WHILE SINCE IVE FED YALL HUH

sorry if it isn't that good I'm tired and just wanted to get this idea out of my head

BKG BBY HE DOESNT DESERVE YOUUUUU

MASTERLISTS!

文豪ストレイドッグスbungo stray dogs

Dazai Osamu

Yandere Beast Dazai Osamu x Depressed female Reader!

(Angst + Smut/Nsfw)

Dazai with a breeding kink + Fyodor

(Smut/Nsfw)

Sigma

Stressed sigma x confident female reader

(Fluff + Smut/Nsfw)

Sigma helps you with your homework

(Smut/Nsfw)

Nakahara Chuuya

Submissive Chuuya

Chuuya with a breeding kink

Chuuya x female reader

Perverted Chuuya x Chubby fem!Reader

(All smut/Nsfw)

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Fyodor x diseased fem!reader

(Angst + Fluff)

Preiset Fyodor x succubus fem!reader

(Smut/Nsfw + A bit of fluff)

Yandere Fyodor x Innocent fem!reader

(Angst)

Fyodor with a breeding kink + Dazai x Reader

(Smut/Nsfw)

Submissive Fyodor x reader

(Smut/Nsfw)

THREE MONTHS : Homewrecker Fyodor x sexual abused fem!reader… (1/2)

Fyodor x Smut reader Fem!Reader

(Smut/Nsfw)

Fyodor Dostoyevsky x Gn!Reader

(Fluff)

Nikolai Gogol

Nikolai x fem!reader

(Smut/Nsfw)

Multiple Bungo stray dogs characters

Stressed bsd characters x fem!reader

(Smut/Nsfw)

The AUDACITY. me too

disrespectful

Nothing on my mind except Chuuya with depression who gets some help from an expert in that field (dazai🙄)

It starts simple. Dazai and Chuuya often meet at an underground bar to have a drink together. It's the one time they can talk to each other peacefully, no need for their constant bickering and attacks, here they can actually be civilized.

Chuuya doesn't notice it at first. All he knows is that as of late, he hasn't really been in the mood. Jobs that he would finish in a heartbeat suddenly become such a burden. Things he used to love like music and wine are all but fuzzy memories, he doesn't feel anything for them now. He's always tired, and he's never tired. Chuuya would never admit when he wants to hit the hay. As long as the boss needed him, he was there.

He comes in late for his and Dazai's biweekly meetings. Dazai can already tell the other is in distress. His once so strong appearance that he accomplished with so much effort seemed improvised, shirt undone by three top buttons, jacket hanging by his arm, no vest, hair in disarray, it was barely like Chuuya anymore.

"What's wrong, Slug? You win a hobo costume contest or something?" Dazai tried to tease, to lighten the mood.

"Shut up, fish for brains, m' not in the mood." Chuuya says begrudgingly as he takes a seat one stool away from Dazai, like he always did.

"Oh? Do tell," Dazai slid a glass of shiny brown liquid and three floating ice cubes to his ex partner, who took it without a word.

"None of your goddamn business, Mackerel." Chuuya was grumpy, cranky even, at Dazai's poor attempt at comforting him.

"Aw, c'mon, Chuu! This is Lupin we're in! What's the point of this place still standing if we don't share anything and everything in it?"

Chuuya sighed a short "fine" and opened up.

"I've just been so tired lately." He said.

"Oh? Mori giving you trouble?"

"Nah, the workload's just as much as before, I checked. It just...feels like more than I can carry, y'know?"

"Well, maybe you should take a break," Dazai said in a cheerful tone. "I know a couple of islands you could visit for a vacation. They've got wine and music and probably some tacky hats if you feel like i-"

"That's the thing, I'm not in the mood to take a break. Or do the things I want. They just....don't seem that appealing anymore. And even if I do take some time off, what if the boss needs me? I can't just let go of that responsibility."

By now Chuuya has had one too many drinks than he can handle in this state, and by that I mean he's only had one, the one Dazai gave him. Already he was looking even worse. Dazai figured it was time for him to go home.

Usually when Chuuya was drunk and Dazai was the poor soul who had to take him home to safety, he would be met with countless insults and "I'm not drunk"s or "one last drink"s. But this time, Chuuya didn't resist a bit. He groggily got off the stool, greeted the bartender, took his coat and walked out silently with Dazai. It's a feeling the latter definitely wasn't used to.

They got to Chuuya's apartment, a luxurious suite at the top of a 30+ story condo that had a bigger bedroom than Dazai's entire home, and the brunette laid his friend down on the couch. Once he knew he was comfortable he slid down to sit on the floor with his back leaning on the couch, staying close to watch his friend. It wasn't the first time he'd done this, and it won't be the last.

"Dazai?"

"Yeah?"

"You get feelings like this too, right?"

"All the time, buddy. Why?"

"I was worried about that. Do you...have any tips on...how to deal with it?"

Dazai paused for a second.

"Have you thought about just...not dealing with it?"

"Can't afford to do that."

"Why not?"

"Well, unlike you, some of us are actually competent assets to our jobs. If I go down the entire Port Mafia will go down too."

"That's not your responsibility."

"It was when you left."

Another long pause. Chuuya was a little out of it, but even he could tell it was too quiet in there.

The silence was so long Chuuya's eyes started to get heavier. His long lashes would flutter up and down as he tried to remain awake. He didn't know why, there was no reason for him to stay away that night...right?

Dazai felt the change in Chuuya's atmosphere even while looking away. As he turned around he saw Chuuya's cute little eyelids flutter like butterflies and his bright blue pupils softening towards slumber.

"Are you going to sleep? Because I can leave if you want." Dazai was quick to get back up on his feet and make his way to the door. However he wasn't quick enough for something to not catch him by the tail of his coat.

"Wait," came a voice. Dazai looked behind him. Chuuya had pulled himself out of the couch just to reach him. His hand gripped on lightly to his coat yet it was probably all the strength he could muster.

"Could you...stay here for a little while?" He asked bashfully. They weren't little kids anymore, asking a guy to stay the night means something now.

Dazai's face went from confused to soft and reassuring. "Sure, Shrimp." He said as he made his way back to the couch. "Since Chuuya needs me so much, I guess I can stay."

"All I need you for is to repel any mice or rats that come in here. Your fishy scent will drive them away."

"Oh my! How hurtful! You've really done it now, Chuuya, I'm devastated!"

"Shut up..."

Neither of them know how it happened, but soon enough the two were asleep. Chuuya on the couch, stomach down and face to the side in case he needed to vomit (he didn't) with a hand reaching out. And Dazai leaning against the arm rest of the couch, also slightly on his side, hand almost touching Chuuya's.

Soukoku core