Aight I do surprisingly have a bunch of these, hit it up I guess
monster hunter skk au :o based on monster hunter world wherein chuuya is a hunter and dazai is his handler. atsushi is a hunter as well and aku is his handler
sheltered church boy x succubus chuuya that was a birthday gift for a friend that didnt get finished 😭
an au of lab experiment chuuya that is retaken by the lab when a corruption use goes wrong, and he loses all his memories and the govt uses him as an assassin. supposed to be told in a broken/poetic storytelling way
a masquerade ball fic based off that one art of chuuya in those thigh-high heels...
a pwp of chuuya teasing dazai in public and then railing him over the table i think lol
nsfw // odazaichuu au where chuuya has been unknowingly jerking off to odazai camming for MONTHS and then when he finds out they all get together lol
canon events of oda's death and dazai leaving the mafia, told entirely through a view of external events and no inner dialogue. i was going through an experimental phase lol
a wip for a witch event i was gonna do but then backed out of lol. witch dazai x god chuuya. mentions of suicidal ideation
au where dazai/chuuya were trapped in an ability that kept them in an 'ideal' alternate universe. they had to figure it out and then break the ability to escape to canon reality.
rndz somnophilia
pwp high skk sex
implied death // :(
a soft skk morning with dazai wearing chuuya's shirt as a crop top 🥺
masochist chuuya x sadist dazai pwp after corruption
pwp exhibitionist skk + public sex + gunplay
that's all i got actually LOL
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But he has to find them, and he figures there’s no better place to look than in the bowels in the city, a place that even the uptight politicians and government officials turn a blind eye to.
They’ve already buried this place as best they can, built a second floor on top of the
old city—the /original/ city— and stacked a new, clean city on top of it so they never have to look at the /unsightly/ things beneath their notice ever again.
The buildings in the old city used to stretch up toward the sky, their tops gilded by sunlight—
But no longer. The
only things that live in the old city now are the forgotten, the poor, the undesirable and the /criminals/.
Chuuya tucks his jacket around him more closely, the sounds of old Yokohama drowning out the sound of his steps. It’s not cold down here— it’s actually /devastatingly/
The room is cold. Not because of the temperature— Osamu knows it’s always been a balmy 30 degrees Celsius at all times because his father is from Hokkaido and it’s left him with a general dislike of the /cold/ that drives him to keep his office warm at all times—but because of
the /circumstances/.
Osamu's eyes watch the twirl of the knife in his fathers hand, mesmerized by the spin. Through the fingers, twist of the wrist to bring the hilt spinning over his knuckles, another twist to bring it swinging back down, the momentum caught and maintained by
his thumb and index finger pinching the blade, repeating the cycle again, spinning over and over and over again.
It's a display of unconscious skill as much as it is a /threat/, because Dazai Kazuki's eyes never /once/ leave the woman sitting to Osamu's left, his brown eyes--
you and your "babie" are Americans, so I don't know why people are so surprised that you both are idiots and can'… — Moment of silence for your bravery in targeting my “entitled” behavior on cc anon 🥲 Truly an inspiration. curiouscat.qa/H4NDKINK/post/…
Man all I been doing today is thirsting over insane yandere Dazai I didn’t even do anything interesting today
But I mean i am interested in what I apparently believe I am “entitled to” 🤔
a life into pieces. It is not a defensive weapon. It is not a piece of steel that normal people would think of as something made to /protect/ yourself.
It’s a weapon that makes even hardened detectives shiver in sympathy, because that thing was made for /gutting/.)
RANPO:
You’re not in a good position here, buddy. You were found, soaked in blood, only a few /blocks/ away from a fresh murder scene. Murders that, might I add, were caused with a /blade/— and this one was found on you. You’re looking at the /death sentence/, so you better start
cooperating and answering our questions.
(Dazai raises a dark eyebrow. There’s a slit in it, and marks of what might’ve been a healed-over eyebrow piercing.)
DAZAI: Have you asked me any questions? I hadn’t realized.
(Kensuke bristles. He’s always been a /protective/ man, and