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Entry tags:
the gold dust in my ears
Title: the gold dust in my ears
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Character(s): Chuuya, Dazai, Odasaku, Fitzgerald, Poe, other mentions
Pairing(s): light Dazai/Odasaku
Genre: mostly Fluff
Word Count: 1,145
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Summary: Chuuya, god of war, has to find a plus one for Fitzgerald’s party, and there’s no one more appropriate than the god of death. Unfortunately.
Notes: This wasn't going to be a series and then it was. I made a spreadsheet for this.
Humans call Chuuya a lot of things.
His name, for one. Then ‘the War God’, because that’s what he is. ‘The Victorious God’, because that is, again, what he is. No matter who comes out on top in a human conflict, Chuuya wins.
In conflicts between gods, he isn’t always so lucky.
He throws open the doors to Dazai’s hall. Dazai doesn’t keep many servants around, so for the most part it’s an empty hallway with two thrones at the other end.
One throne is for Oda Sakunosuke, former mortal and current demigod of peaceful death. Chuuya doesn’t have much to do with him for reasons that should be obvious.
The other throne is for Dazai Osamu, god of death. Unfortunately, Chuuya has to deal with him all the time.
“Chuuya!” Dazai says brightly. “Come by to see little old me? Or, wait, that’d be you, wouldn’t it...”
Chuuya glowers. With Dazai on his throne and Chuuya standing on the floor, their height difference is even more pronounced. He doesn’t even want to look at Oda ‘Two Heads Taller And Not Even A Proper God’ Sakunosuke right now. “Why would I ever want to see you?”
“I’m not so bad,” Dazai replies, grinning down at him. “You couldn’t do your job without me, Chuuya, or all your precious wars would amount to are arguments.”
“I send you more souls en masse than anybody else,” Chuuya says.
Dazai tsks. “That’s not true, Chuuya. You’re thinking on such a small scale. Odasaku sends me half as many people in a day as you do in a year just from old age.”
“It’s a little less than that,” Odasaku says. “You’re exaggerating.”
“Then there’s the ones I get from Akutagawa, Higuchi, Kaiji, the murders and manslaughters, and Gin, the ones who die from sickness,” Dazai says. “Between them, that’s much more than your wars. I don’t need you - people will die every day without a single battle. But you need me~”
Chuuya really, truly, and honestly hates that he’s right. A war without even the threat of death has nothing behind it. A death without war happens all the time.
“So, if it’s not to see my handsome face, why are you here, Little God?” asks Dazai.
No one else but Dazai dares to call him that. If a mortal ever tried, something unfortunate would happen to them.
Chuuya grits his teeth. “Fitzgerald,” he says, “decided I needed an appropriate plus one.”
Fitzgerald, god of wealth, prayed to before and during more wars than Chuuya could name. Pillaging is a time-honored tradition along with coveting another country’s wealth, so he and Fitzgerald are on passable terms, and he occasionally gets invitations to Fitzgerald’s parties.
Dazai and Fitzgerald have very little to do with each other. You can’t take it when you go.
“Hmmm.” Dazai makes a noncommittal sound. “I hardly ever get to go to parties… But there’s always so much work to do.”
“I can take over for you,” Odasaku says. “If it’s just for one party. I know how you run things.”
“Akutagawa might give you a hard time,” Dazai says. “Can you handle that?”
Odasaku nods once. “Have fun.”
Dazai pecks him on the cheek, then hops down off his throne. “Are you really going to wear that hat to a nice party?”
“Shut up or I’ll invite Mori instead,” Chuuya snaps, and that thankfully is enough to get Dazai off that particular subject. Everyone, except probably Fukuzawa, is a little bit scared of Mori. ‘Fate is cruel’ doesn’t cover it.
Fitzgerald’s party is predictably glitzy and gaudy. The god has all the diamonds he could possibly want, and it looks like all of them are adorning the decorations. The walls and floor are made of gold. It’s ridiculous, is what it is.
The host greets them when they appear. “Chuuya, glad you could make it~ And Dazai, it’s been so long!”
“It has been a while,” Dazai replies. “Let’s see, the last time we talked was… that business with Lovecraft?”
Steinbeck flinches from across the room.
“We try not to mention that incident around here,” Fitzgerald says, still smiling.
Chuuya shudders. “Don’t blame you.”
Steinbeck had tried to make another god directly from the earth, figuring that if anyone could do it besides the missing Natsume Souseki, it was probably him. He’d made Lovecraft instead, who… whatever he was, was definitely not a god.
It wasn’t Lovecraft’s fault, really. He just sort of… warped things by existing, into other things that were wrong and beyond any of their understanding. He warped them far past the point where even Q would have accepted having him stay around.
It’d taken several gods’ efforts, including Dazai and Chuuya, just to put him to sleep. He’s still sleeping. Chuuya tries not to think about him waking up someday.
“Right, let’s not talk about that,” says Dazai, cheerfully. “I expect there’s saffron at the food bar?”
“Do you even need to ask?” Fitzgerald replies. “Of course there is.”
Dazai wanders in that direction. Chuuya takes this opportunity to go anywhere else, and scans the room for people he might like to talk to.
Yosano is a straight up no - the only matters even remotely associated with him that she likes are nurses, and otherwise she’d happily kick him in the head a few hundred times. Kunikida is complicated, and getting more complicated every year. War and justice haven’t really had anything to do with each other for a long time, but mortals still think they do, for some reason, and that obligates them to at least say hello every now and then.
He settles on Poe, who’s hiding in a corner. Writers are fine with him. War makes for great stories, and stories inspire people to go off to war before they realize it’s nothing like the stories. It’s a symbiotic relationship.
“Ah. Chuuya.” Poe at least tries to straighten up when Chuuya approaches. “Have you been well?”
He shrugs. “Coming to this party by myself would’ve been better than having to drag Dazai along, but you know how Fitzgerald gets.”
“‘It’s bad for socializing if they come alone,’” Poe repeats. “What about Kouyou? I thought you two got along fairly well.”
They do and Kouyou does hang around his neck of the proverbial woods, but… “I asked her first. Kyouka wanted to do something today.”
“I see,” Poe says. “Well, you’re welcome to hold the wall up with me if you wish. ...I really don’t like parties, but Ranpo insisted.”
Ranpo has always been like that. It’s frankly amazing how much he manages to push Poe around.
Chuuya leans on the wall and watches the other gods and goddesses. If it’s like any of Fitzgerald’s other parties, someone will make a fool out of themselves eventually. It might even be entertaining enough to be worth coming to watch.
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Character(s): Chuuya, Dazai, Odasaku, Fitzgerald, Poe, other mentions
Pairing(s): light Dazai/Odasaku
Genre: mostly Fluff
Word Count: 1,145
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Summary: Chuuya, god of war, has to find a plus one for Fitzgerald’s party, and there’s no one more appropriate than the god of death. Unfortunately.
Notes: This wasn't going to be a series and then it was. I made a spreadsheet for this.
Humans call Chuuya a lot of things.
His name, for one. Then ‘the War God’, because that’s what he is. ‘The Victorious God’, because that is, again, what he is. No matter who comes out on top in a human conflict, Chuuya wins.
In conflicts between gods, he isn’t always so lucky.
He throws open the doors to Dazai’s hall. Dazai doesn’t keep many servants around, so for the most part it’s an empty hallway with two thrones at the other end.
One throne is for Oda Sakunosuke, former mortal and current demigod of peaceful death. Chuuya doesn’t have much to do with him for reasons that should be obvious.
The other throne is for Dazai Osamu, god of death. Unfortunately, Chuuya has to deal with him all the time.
“Chuuya!” Dazai says brightly. “Come by to see little old me? Or, wait, that’d be you, wouldn’t it...”
Chuuya glowers. With Dazai on his throne and Chuuya standing on the floor, their height difference is even more pronounced. He doesn’t even want to look at Oda ‘Two Heads Taller And Not Even A Proper God’ Sakunosuke right now. “Why would I ever want to see you?”
“I’m not so bad,” Dazai replies, grinning down at him. “You couldn’t do your job without me, Chuuya, or all your precious wars would amount to are arguments.”
“I send you more souls en masse than anybody else,” Chuuya says.
Dazai tsks. “That’s not true, Chuuya. You’re thinking on such a small scale. Odasaku sends me half as many people in a day as you do in a year just from old age.”
“It’s a little less than that,” Odasaku says. “You’re exaggerating.”
“Then there’s the ones I get from Akutagawa, Higuchi, Kaiji, the murders and manslaughters, and Gin, the ones who die from sickness,” Dazai says. “Between them, that’s much more than your wars. I don’t need you - people will die every day without a single battle. But you need me~”
Chuuya really, truly, and honestly hates that he’s right. A war without even the threat of death has nothing behind it. A death without war happens all the time.
“So, if it’s not to see my handsome face, why are you here, Little God?” asks Dazai.
No one else but Dazai dares to call him that. If a mortal ever tried, something unfortunate would happen to them.
Chuuya grits his teeth. “Fitzgerald,” he says, “decided I needed an appropriate plus one.”
Fitzgerald, god of wealth, prayed to before and during more wars than Chuuya could name. Pillaging is a time-honored tradition along with coveting another country’s wealth, so he and Fitzgerald are on passable terms, and he occasionally gets invitations to Fitzgerald’s parties.
Dazai and Fitzgerald have very little to do with each other. You can’t take it when you go.
“Hmmm.” Dazai makes a noncommittal sound. “I hardly ever get to go to parties… But there’s always so much work to do.”
“I can take over for you,” Odasaku says. “If it’s just for one party. I know how you run things.”
“Akutagawa might give you a hard time,” Dazai says. “Can you handle that?”
Odasaku nods once. “Have fun.”
Dazai pecks him on the cheek, then hops down off his throne. “Are you really going to wear that hat to a nice party?”
“Shut up or I’ll invite Mori instead,” Chuuya snaps, and that thankfully is enough to get Dazai off that particular subject. Everyone, except probably Fukuzawa, is a little bit scared of Mori. ‘Fate is cruel’ doesn’t cover it.
Fitzgerald’s party is predictably glitzy and gaudy. The god has all the diamonds he could possibly want, and it looks like all of them are adorning the decorations. The walls and floor are made of gold. It’s ridiculous, is what it is.
The host greets them when they appear. “Chuuya, glad you could make it~ And Dazai, it’s been so long!”
“It has been a while,” Dazai replies. “Let’s see, the last time we talked was… that business with Lovecraft?”
Steinbeck flinches from across the room.
“We try not to mention that incident around here,” Fitzgerald says, still smiling.
Chuuya shudders. “Don’t blame you.”
Steinbeck had tried to make another god directly from the earth, figuring that if anyone could do it besides the missing Natsume Souseki, it was probably him. He’d made Lovecraft instead, who… whatever he was, was definitely not a god.
It wasn’t Lovecraft’s fault, really. He just sort of… warped things by existing, into other things that were wrong and beyond any of their understanding. He warped them far past the point where even Q would have accepted having him stay around.
It’d taken several gods’ efforts, including Dazai and Chuuya, just to put him to sleep. He’s still sleeping. Chuuya tries not to think about him waking up someday.
“Right, let’s not talk about that,” says Dazai, cheerfully. “I expect there’s saffron at the food bar?”
“Do you even need to ask?” Fitzgerald replies. “Of course there is.”
Dazai wanders in that direction. Chuuya takes this opportunity to go anywhere else, and scans the room for people he might like to talk to.
Yosano is a straight up no - the only matters even remotely associated with him that she likes are nurses, and otherwise she’d happily kick him in the head a few hundred times. Kunikida is complicated, and getting more complicated every year. War and justice haven’t really had anything to do with each other for a long time, but mortals still think they do, for some reason, and that obligates them to at least say hello every now and then.
He settles on Poe, who’s hiding in a corner. Writers are fine with him. War makes for great stories, and stories inspire people to go off to war before they realize it’s nothing like the stories. It’s a symbiotic relationship.
“Ah. Chuuya.” Poe at least tries to straighten up when Chuuya approaches. “Have you been well?”
He shrugs. “Coming to this party by myself would’ve been better than having to drag Dazai along, but you know how Fitzgerald gets.”
“‘It’s bad for socializing if they come alone,’” Poe repeats. “What about Kouyou? I thought you two got along fairly well.”
They do and Kouyou does hang around his neck of the proverbial woods, but… “I asked her first. Kyouka wanted to do something today.”
“I see,” Poe says. “Well, you’re welcome to hold the wall up with me if you wish. ...I really don’t like parties, but Ranpo insisted.”
Ranpo has always been like that. It’s frankly amazing how much he manages to push Poe around.
Chuuya leans on the wall and watches the other gods and goddesses. If it’s like any of Fitzgerald’s other parties, someone will make a fool out of themselves eventually. It might even be entertaining enough to be worth coming to watch.