Genuinely what did Dazai do? Out of even anime characters in general, what is so bad and evil about him? In the same anime he’s from there’s a pedophile, why doesn’t he cause such visceral hatred from people? Most Dazai haters like characters like Light or Sasuke, are you telling me Dazai is worse than a genocidal maniac or a Dictator with a god complex? More specifically, his main competitor, Chuuya, why is he considered so kind and good just because he’s not “manipulative”? Why is Chuuya’s evil actions either ignored or justified constantly 24/7 but we have to be reminded of Dazai’s everytime? Why is there such hypocrisy? Why are all Dazai ships so hated? Why do people ship Soukoku or any other Dazai ship if they hate Dazai and think he shouldn’t be with anyone romantically? Why do you even think that way? Dazai also deserves love, what did he do so evil that even a pedophile and a misogynist gets so much more sympathy from him? What exactly did Dazai do to this fandom?
Why does Dazai only need to be in love with Chuuya in soukoku and not the other way around? Why do the shippers only enjoy this ship when it’s one sided and Dazai is constantly suffering? Why do Skk shippers not want Chuuya to like Dazai back? How is it exactly that Chuuya is the one who deserves better, when it’s Dazai who keeps saying Chuuya is a human but is told his own humanity is a “joke” by this same person Dazai is kind to? Why do shippers defend this? Apparently both Skk are not perfect people, so when it’s Dazai is accepted he did Chuuya wrong which is I don’t know what exactly, but when it’s Chuuya doing shitty things to Dazai, it’s not an issue, it needs to justified somehow? Why do Dazai “stans” like this people or this ship so much if they “love” Dazai, why are all Dazai “stans” even okay with this? Why do you stan him then? Why do you say you “love” Dazai if you think Chuuya is cooler?? Why can’t you just go and stan him?? What did Dazai do to skk shippers? What is so cool about Chuuya when he’s criminal who still actively harms people?
imagine how successful you'd be if you showed this level of tenacity in academics and life instead of being on my ass for liking Chuuya
genuinely why are you constantly sending me shit still when i haven't even done anything to you or said anything hateful about Dazai. it has been almost 4 YEARS. why are you still in this one-sided beef with Chuuya and with me. why do you feel the need to harass and send people death threats simply bc they like Chuuya more. why do you claim to dislike Chuuya and Chuuya stans yet you come searching for my account all the time and doing the absolute fucking most to circumvent my blocking. why is it so difficult for you to grasp that just bc some people like Chuuya more, it does not mean they hate or even dislike Dazai. why is it so hard for you to take a step back and realize that not everything is meant to be "anti-Dazai" just bc you have interpreted it as such. you have harassed people over obvious jokes, you have harassed people when they haven't even mentioned Dazai bc you always feel the need to insert him into the narrative and then attack the person. i could mention Chuuya and the Flags and here you come with 10 messages telling me i should kill myself and slit my wrists bc the Flags are "flop Buraiha". why are you making it seem like it's about you defending Dazai when reality is it's about you not liking Chuuya. why do you not spend your time talking about Dazai on your own account rather than searching up Chuuya on the daily and making 5 million burners on every social media platform possible to attack people for posts that aren't even remotely harmful or related to Dazai. do you actually give a fuck about Dazai, or do you just hate to see Chuuya get loved by the fandom?
majority of the people you have deemed "Dazai haters" (which, frankly, you have deluded yourself into thinking is everyone besides you) don't even hate Dazai. they'll make one harmless joke or a random post and suddenly they'll be branded by you as a "Dazai anti", bc you do not know how to consume media in a healthy way, and you feel the need to project and make your problem everyone else's. there are plenty of people who have spoken in Dazai's defense of his change after leaving port mafia, about his fight in the light, yet you don't see that bc you are too busy searching up Chuuya and getting mad at Chuuya stans for talking about Chuuya. you seek out certain content that you know you don't like, then nitpick and generalize the fandom as a whole when it is your problem to deal with. don't even come here with that bitchass whining about certain people not "loving" Dazai bc the minute someone you don't like says something about Dazai, even if it's positive, you'll be there telling them to shut up and not speak on him. i have already been through your questions with you in the past so there's no point in going over them again, considering all you'll do is spam me with insults and threats bc you have no actual intentions of having a civil conversation. byeee
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Simon has always been confused on why you gift him toys. Sure, most of the gifts you gave him were some of the things he liked. Bourbon, masks, gloves, make up for him to smudge his eyes with, some daggers and knives. Things that we're useful for him, just him. But later, you gifted him a toy airplane. He makes a comment about it, saying he is not a child anymore and you were better off giving it to Johnny instead.
"No, this is specifically for you, take it."
When he gets to him room, he walks toward his trash can, opening it with the tip of his boot. He gives one more look at the toy, his mood souring before throwing it into the trash. He goes on about his day, training, signing paper work, drills. Doing anything to ignore the pain stinging memories that the toy brought back. Emotions that were buried thousands of feet deep it could reach hell itself. Later, he lies awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, avoiding looking at the cylinder shape that's calling for him in his peripheral.
Fuck.
He pulls the covers off vigorously and stomps over to the trash can. He is standing over it like he's trying to intimidate it, as if it was an enemy he's trying to get rid of in battle. To anyone else, the scene would look comical.
He sighs to himself and reaches down to take out the toy he so cruelly threw away. He sets it on his desk and quickly walks toward his bed, facing away from his desk.
The next day, he wakes up feeling different. He swears he sees his room more vibrant, more lively. That energy follows him through out the day, having his other teammates notice his rather bright mood.
You catch him in the hallway. Pulling him aside to ask him about the paper work you left at his desk this morning. Of course, he notices the way you smile brightly, more so than usual. But he notices that you're not looking at him. More like looking at something next to him.
"What's got you so cheery?"
You turn to look up at him, feeling a bit embarrassed.
"I just..." You take a quick glance at the spot next to him, before bringing your eyes back upon his.
"I just hope you liked your gift." The same bright smile appearing on your face.
He stares at you, examining your words. Your expression.
You think you see his eyes crinkle a bit.
"Yea,"
"I liked it."
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Family Dinners - dpxdc
"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.
The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.
"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.
"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.
"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."
"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."
Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.
Ancients, that's so weird!
The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.
Wait. Family dinners?
He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.
"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.
"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.
From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.
"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"
"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"
"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."
"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."
The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.
Come on, Danny, recover!
"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."
"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?
"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."
"Costume? What do you mean?"
Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.
"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!
"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.
"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.
His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.
"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.
Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.
"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"
"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"
"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."
"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.
It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.
It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.
Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.
"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."
Once again, the whole table falls into silence.
"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"
"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"
"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."
Danny's grin freezes in place.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."
"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"
Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.
"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.
"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."
An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.
"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.
"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."
"What did happen?"
"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."
"How long in the future was it?"
"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.
Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"
"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."
"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."
"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"
"What?"
"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."
Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.
"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.
"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."
"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"
"Damian, stop—"
"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."
"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."
"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.
"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."
"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."
"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."
"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."
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