bsd oneshots from ao3

soukoku (trans dazai ftm)

Dazai was just… tired now. He saw the way Mori looked at him, treating him like a pretty little toy. He was only 16, but Dazai was getting drunk almost daily now to try to cope with everything. Everytime Mori looked at him he wanted to rip his hair out. If only he was born a boy. Then he wouldn't have to deal with Mori's gross comments and stares.

Drunk once more, Dazai stood in front of the mirror, about to get in the shower. Removing all his bandages, he stared at his bare skin. His breasts were small, easy to bind now, but his hips were getting wider and his voice wasn't getting any deeper. The thought made him sick. He hated his body. It wasn't right.

Dazai reached into the back of the drawer and grabbed his trusty razor. It was the only thing that made him feel alive anymore. He couldn't control his body, but at least he could punish it for being wrong.

.

The shower stung, but he was used to it by now. This was his nightly routine. The endless cycle of self loathing weighed heavily on him, but there was no way to escape while Mori had his tight grip on him. He'd find a way eventually but now…

There was a knock at the door. Luckily Dazai was dressed, bandaged up tightly, and just zoning out in the bathroom.

"Hey! Shithead, you've been in there so long, it's my turn!" Chuuya. Of course. Asshole didn't know how lucky he was. He might be short, but at least he was born the way he was supposed to be. He didn't seem to hate himself like Dazai did.

Dazai went to the door, opening it up to glare at Chuuya. Surprisingly, the redhead's expression fell into one of concern.

"Hey… you don't look so good. Are you ok?" Dazai wasted no time in pulling him into the bathroom and locking the door. He didn't care anymore. Being so alone all the time was torture. He needed Chuuya to know.

"Chuuya, I can't do this anymore." Dazai whispered, leaning against the sink.

"What do you mean?" Chuuya was beyond concerned now, trying to mask it with his arms crossed.

"I… I can't be Mori's little girl anymore. I can't take it. It's not who I am." Dazai said, watching Chuuya's eyebrows shoot up.

"You… want to leave the port mafia?" Chuuya whispered urgently. "That's crazy! And you're more mafia than anyone I've ever met! Where did this come from?" Chuuya grabbed Dazai's shoulders, searching for some little bit of light in Dazai's dark, blank eyes.

"No… the mafia's fine. It's the… girl part." Dazai admitted. It made him want to throw up. He'd know. this for a while, but actually telling someone made him nauseous. Chuuya stared, eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a few moments, before he understood.

"Oh! Well, that makes more sense." Chuuya shrugged. It was now Dazai's turn to be confused.

"What?" Dazai wondered what gave him away. Chuuya couldn't really be that perceptive. Could he?

"Yeah, I mean, look at you. If it weren't for your long ass hair, I'd think you were a dude." Chuuya said, as if it were the most obvious thing ever. Dazai held a piece of his hair, looking at it. It was long.

"Cut it for me." Dazai looked up at Chuuya. There was a glimmer of hope that had returned to his eyes. Chuuya chuckled, nervous.

"You're not worried I'm going to fuck it up?" Chuuya scratched at his neck. Dazai shook his head. "Alright then. I'm assuming you want it shorter than mine?" Chuuya began rummaging through the drawers for scissors.

"Yeah, your ponytail is… fun and all, but I'd like something a bit less gay." Dazai teased.

"Hey! I'm helping you out here! Don't be an ass…" Chuuya grumbled, finally finding scissors. "Alright, I'll do it like my hair when we first met. That fine?" Chuuya was looking at Dazai through the mirror, but Dazai was just staring at himself and his hair.

Chuuya's hair… It was short, with bangs. Nothing super special, but it was perfect. Given there was no undercut, it would be easy to do and maintain.

"Yeah… that's perfect." Dazai whispered. "Can I, um… cut the first bit?" Dazai finally looked up at Chuuya, who sighed and handed him the scissors.

"Knock yourself out. Don't take off too much or I can't style it." Chuuya watched as Dazai grabbed a large chunk, cutting it off above his shoulder.

Dazai couldn't believe it. He was finally doing this. He didn't care what Mori said anymore, he was going to fully transition. He was going to be free. Tears welled up in his eyes as he chopped away at his hair.

They spilled over, falling down and landing on the hair on the floor. It was cathartic, even if the feeling only lasted tonight and he'd have to deal with the consequences later. This was what he desperately needed to do.

Eventually, all of his hair was roughly chin-length, short and ready for Chuuya to actually style it. Dazai stared at himself, letting his arms fall. He could barely recognize himself, but it was so much better.

Before, his hair had flowed freely, a signature look that captivated others. But all eyes were on him always. And it made him sick. Especially when those eyes belonged to Mori. It was choppy and terrible, but he finally felt free.

Chuuya took back the scissors, taking advantage of Dazai's still silence, and began cutting away, making bangs, layers, and shortening it until his neck finally felt fresh air. When he finished, Dazai could do nothing but stare at himself in shock.

"Is it… ok?" Chuuya broke the silence. "Our hair's pretty different, so it doesn't look the same, but it doesn't look bad." Chuuya kept rambling, clearly nervous that Dazai hated it.

"It's perfect." Dazai whispered, studying every part of it. "Thank you." Dazai pretended to not see Chuuya's obvious shock.

It was completely warranted though. Chuuya was the only person he'd told, and he immediately accepted it and helped cut his hair. It was nice to see how much he cared.

"No problem, now get out. I still want to shower." Chuuya pushed Dazai out, locking the door behind him. Even with the rough exit, Dazai smiled, happy for the first time in a while.

He'd deal with everything else later, but now, he could forget about his stupid body and be happy.p
(Story credits > BoyHowdyMFA)