#Larger than chuuya | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheriecoke · 9 months ago

Text

˚₊‧꒰ა skin — chuuya nakahara

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎. chuuya's acting different… but you brush it off and don't think anything of it.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈. fluff, suggestive but sfw, f!reader, domestic life, established relationship, implied dubcon, open ending, horror/mystery elements, wc: 2.5k

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈. i'm a bit nervous to see how this will be received, so pls reblog or drop a comment if you enjoy <3

part of my summerween series !

the scent of freshly brewed coffee and your favorite breakfast food are the first things that you smell when you wake up. for a few moments, you think it’s a dream — when’s the last time chuuya cooked this early in the morning? you half expect to walk out there and wake up again later, finding that you’d never opened your eyes at all.

but when you roll out of bed, tug a robe over your shoulders, chuuya is there, a presence larger than life, almost, standing in front of the stove, and you are undeniably awake.

you wrinkle your eyebrows together, glancing at the plates scattered across the counter. in your two years of marriage, this is the first that you’ve seen such a display. chuuya isn’t a morning person, he never has been, and usually something quick is enough to settle his stomach for a while.

“chuuya?” you asked, sitting at the table, his back still turned to you. he’s fully dressed, hair falling in loose waves over his shoulders, burning brighter from the sun filtering in through the window. “what are you doing?”

your husband turns, smiling at you over his shoulder. as always, it takes your breath away. he is so handsome, sometimes, it makes you forget yourself. “can’t i cook for my beautiful wife?” he asks, sliding a cup of coffee to you on the tabletop.

you smile, as his hands graze your temple, brushing your hair behind your ear. “you never cook breakfast. you don’t like it.” besides, this is far too much for two people to enjoy.

he laughs, leaning down to kiss your forehead, then the small, confused wrinkle between your eyes. it slips away as you sit up straighter, capture his lips with your own, tasting the coffee on his mouth.

“but you do,” chuuya says.

you’re honestly indifferent towards breakfast, but you let it slide, tucking your chin into your hand as you watch him work away. if he wants to do something nice, you’re not going to stop him. “weren’t you supposed to leave for a job this morning?”

chuuya shrugs, “i’m reassigned, i guess the boss wanted to send akutagawa instead. i’ll be staying in the city for this one, so you won’t get the chance to miss me.”

it makes sense now, why he had so generously made you breakfast. you stand, taking a longer sip of your coffee, before going to wrap your arms around his stomach, smell the hot food that wafts from behind him. “oh, so you had some time to kill?” you tease, running your hands across his abdomen. “and you decided to cook instead of doing… something else?”

your fingers trace a pattern around the zipper of his jeans, which are steadily growing tighter. chuuya grabs your wrist, tugs your hands away with a pointed look. “yes,” he says, through his teeth. “and you’re making it difficult.”

you lazily grin back, pressing one last kiss to his jawline before grabbing your coffee again, and standing beside him at the counter.

chuuya cooks with a precision that you’re not sure you’ve ever seen before, delicately measuring each ingredient, tapping them into the bowls and pans. usually, he goes by his own instincts, and while he is by no means a great cook, he pulls things together in a way that only he could do. now, though, he seems almost uncertain, like he’s silently praying that everything will turn out alright.

“chuuya?” you ask, watching him carefully. his face contorts strangely as he looks over at you, but then it clears up, and he smiles, looking just as warm as he did the moment you walked into the room.

“yeah, baby?”

you want to ask him if he’s feeling alright—but that would shatter the mood, wouldn’t it? the serene morning bliss that has settled between you, as it so rarely seems to anymore. and it’s a blessing, not to have to watch him walk out that door and put himself in danger, able to spend more time with you.

shaking your head, you smile, and kiss him on the cheek softly. “never mind. i love you.”

“love you too.” he says it back immediately, which is also a little unlike your husband. there is always a pause before, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to maintain this sort of affection, like it’ll be taken away if he dares to speak the truth. he cherishes the love he has for you in that tiny pause, before relinquishing it, shoulders only relaxing when he sees you standing there, safe and sound.

but it’s been years since you’ve been together. you’re married, settled down — as settled as he can be as a mafia executive. perhaps he’s just relaxed into the fact that your love is eternal, and he's more confident in the notion that it won’t be taken away from him.

the rest of the morning passes quickly, when you and chuuya find yourselves back into bed, mouths still tasting of coffee, the windows open just enough to clear out the smell of sweat between you, and the pans that have not fully been scrubbed.

at some point, you feel asleep, and you wake back up, overheated from the sheets tucked closely to your naked body. the sunlight filtering in through the glass is worse than metal of a furnace. your hair sticks to your scalp, and you spend the next half hour in the shower, dreading the looming months of summer and the heat that comes with it.

although there’s plenty of things for you to do while chuuya’s gone, you don’t feel like doing much of anything. just one of those days, you reason, even if it’s hard to rationalize that, when chuuya’s out there risking his life, and you’re inside, mindlessly scrolling through your phone and the picking up books you can’t bring yourself to read.

it’s a blur of a day, between very slowly making your way through the pile of laundry you’d forgotten to fold, and cleaning the sheets that had been washed just a few days earlier. chuuya returns, and suddenly, your foul mood caves into something much more pleasant, that pit in your stomach dissipating.

you still worry about him, constantly, even though you know he’s chuuya nakahara, and there are very few things on this earth that can challenge him. still, he’s your husband—you can’t help it.

chuuya kisses you as he returns, smiling into it, his fingers curling into the hair behind your ears.

“i can make dinner tonight,” you say, even though you don’t really feel like it. but he sees right through it, just like you knew he would. you can’t hide much from him.

“it’s okay. i’ll pick something up. know you haven’t been feeling up to it this week.”

you smile and kiss the palm of his hand, the leather of his glove cool against your mouth. how nice it is to be so loved by him, to be seen, for even the simplest of signs. “okay. thanks.”

he nods, leaves to retreat into the bedroom and change his dirtied shirt into a clean one. it’s then, that you notice he’s laid his coat across the back of one of your chairs — unusual, for him to wear it so far into the house.

you furrow your brow and pick it up, planning on hanging it on the rack by the door. but you notice, then, that it’s an older one, different from the coat he normally wears. the designer is the same, but there’s a hole in the pocket, which tells you he didn’t care enough to have it fixed.

an odd feeling twists itself inside you again. a bout of paranoia, likely. that’s all, isn’t it? you’re just having an off day, an off week, and you’re projecting that onto your husband, for no reason at all.

a sigh escapes you, and you shake your head, simply hanging it back up on the coat rack, when you notice his hat isn’t there either.

you frown, glancing back over your shoulder to the chair, the rest of the room. chuuya hadn’t been wearing it when he’d walked in, and you can’t remember seeing it on the rack before he left this morning.

which was odd. chuuya never went anywhere without it.

you jump, a vibration pulling you out of your thoughts, your cell phone ringing, buzzing on the table right by the doorway. it’s chuuya’s name flashing across the screen, a photo of him bright under the glass.

“hello?”

“hey, baby.”

you release a breath at the sound of chuuya’s voice. it instantly relaxes you, even though you, really, have no reason to be so alarmed.

your shoulders sink down, the tension draining from your body, and you smile instead, amused that he’s calling you from just one room over. the affectionate name twists your stomach up in butterflies and knots, and you roll your eyes. “hi, chuuya.”

“you have time to talk right now?”

“i suppose.”

“you suppose,” chuuya replies, snorting. “and here i thought you’d be happier to hear from me. i was about to apologize for not calling you earlier and everything.”

that’s a weird thing to say, you think. “chuuya, you know, you didn’t need to call. you could’ve just walked back in here.”

there’s a pause on the other end, a muffled sound in the background, like he’s getting out of a car. “what do you mean?”

“i mean you could’ve just walked back in here.”

he doesn’t seem to understand, and fakes a laugh. “very funny.” there’s a voice on the other end, and chuuya says something to the sound, before turning his attention back to you on the phone. your brow furrows, eyes drifting over to the door. “anyway, i only have a few minutes, but—”

“chuuya,” you say, feeling a tiny rush of fear swallow you. something is wrong. there’s no one in your house besides you and chuuya, and he’s been in your bedroom for minutes. you turn back around, facing the front door. "where are you?”

“huh? i’m in osaka, remember? i told you about the entire thing last night.” he sighs, something between irritation and amused fondness. “we had a pretty long conversation about it.”

“osaka?” you repeat. “but—i just saw you. just a few minutes ago. just this morning”

there’s silence on the other end of the line, as chuuya breathes, gathers his thoughts. you can tell, even within a second, that he’s either trying not to panic, or let his confusion give way to anger. “no, you didn’t. i left early this morning, you were still sleeping—”

“who are you talking to?”

you freeze. it comes from chuuya, but the chuuya that’s behind you, not the one you’re talking to on the phone. there’s a pinched look on his face as you turn, pretending like nothing is wrong. a guarded expression that wasn’t there before.

your mind goes blank as you stare at him, mouth growing dry. “i—”

“say dazai,” chuuya says through the static of the phone. you’re not sure how he heard the imposter at all, but it settles you, snapping you back into action.

“dazai?” you nearly spit.

it’s not often you chat with dazai, of all people, on the phone. you’re not particularly close. but it’s a good call by chuuya. dazai wouldn’t be keeping tabs on the port mafia member’s whereabouts, wouldn’t know that chuuya was out of town, and akutagawa was never reassigned. but he’s still dangerous. still someone that could be a threat to whoever is pretending to be your husband.

“dazai," you continue, recovering from your questioning response smoothly. "can i call you back later?”

chuuya speaks to you the other line, playing along. “i’m going to call someone to come over there. pretend like nothing’s wrong. everything will be okay.”

you feel tears prick the back of your eyes — you don’t want chuuya to hang up, but if the fake chuuya finds out you know, it could be an even worse outcome.

“okay. got it. i'll call you tomorrow then.”

“i love you.”

you resist the urge to answer the sentiment, and hang up the phone.

the fake chuuya stares back at you, as intently as you stare at him, neither of you blinking as you put your phone back into your pocket.

“what did dazai want?” he asks, standing straight, his back tense as you take a step forward.

there are a lot of weapons hidden around this house—chuuya has more than a handful of enemies, and wants to be prepared in case they ever find where he lives. where you live.

you’d thought it overkill. now, you’re grateful to have at least a fighting chance; if you can only get to the pistol that he keeps in the closet, at the end of the hallway.

“he’s working on a case. thought i might have some intel. i told him i’d look over the details tomorrow.”

“i see.” chuuya — not chuuya, you remind yourself, even though he’s wearing his face — nods. he watches you walk closer the closet door, eyes darting between the handle and your body. his eyes flash.

“you know,” he says, crisply, stopping you in your tracks. “i thought the phone might cause some issues. should’ve blocked the number this morning. amateur mistake on my part.”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean your husband called, didn’t he? the real one.” not chuuya smiles, but it’s ugly, almost as if it’s contorting, melting off his face. “you know he’s been gone all morning. it wasn’t him who made you breakfast, took you to bed after.”

nausea fills your gut, and you look away, swallowing down the disgust that you feel. you can’t think about that. not now.

“although, you wouldn’t have known by the way i touched you, would you? how i knew exactly what you enjoy. i have every one of chuuya’s memories now. i know all about him, all about you.” he takes a long stride. you’re both just a pace away from the door, from the gun. if he has any of chuuya’s strength, you’ll lose—you’re no match for that kind of power.

you just need to hold him off, long enough for whoever chuuya sends over to help you.

“and also,” the fake chuuya continues lazily, a laugh clipping at the end of his words. “i know about the gun you’re looking for.”

there’s a dark grin on his face that propels you into action. you lunge towards the closet door, throwing it open, and chuuya lets you. he laughs darkly, doesn’t make any attempt to stop you from fumbling around the inside of closet for a gun that he put there. it doesn’t take you long to figure out why.

the gun isn’t there.

thank you so much for reading! ❤︎ title and inspiration come from ep 1.06 of supernatural- tag list: @little-miss-chaoss @erebus-et-eigengrau @soleelia @k0z3me

893 notes · View notes

moomuzan · 2 months ago

Text

— 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝖚𝖘

they leave you waiting at the alter ? chuuya , akutagawa , dazai , angst , requested

Within a grove of birch trees, the clearing nestled deep, the soft hush of leaves moving in the wind was a solemn hymn to the life you thought you’d begin today. The late afternoon sun filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled patterns of gold and shadow onto the small wooden altar. It was simple, intimate—just you, the pastor, and the man who was supposed to meet you here.

But Dazai wasn’t coming.

Standing there, your breath came short as you glanced back toward the narrow path that led to the grove. It was empty. Too heavy on your shoulders, the lace of the dress clinged to your skin like a suffocating second layer. The bouquet trembled in your hands, but you didn’t feel its weight. All you could feel was the growing void in your chest, a silence louder than any words could ever be.

The marriage officiant, a kind man with an understanding gaze, shifted awkwardly, his hands folded before him. “Perhaps he’s just delayed,” he murmured, though his words lacked conviction. You nodded, a small, tight movement, as if any larger one might shatter the fragile mask of hope you were barely holding together.

But Dazai wasn’t delayed. He had never intended to come.

Far from the grove, he sat in a darkened room, his head bowed over his hands. His suit jacket lay discarded across the back of a chair, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He hadn’t even made it out the door.

As he thought of you, standing there alone in that quiet, sacred space, waiting for him with that soft, unwavering faith in your eyes—the faith that had always undone him, his heart felt like bursting. You had always seen him as something more than he was. A man, instead of a ghost. A lover, instead of a weapon.

And that was why he couldn’t come.

How could he stand before you, in the quiet holiness of that grove, and make promises he knew he could never keep? How could he say the words that would bind your life to his, knowing that everything he touched withered in his hands?

God, he blamed himself for ever asking you. For letting the idea of happiness bloom, even for a moment. It was cruel of him, selfish, to let you believe he could be anything more than the man he was. You were light, and he was a black hole, endlessly consuming, endlessly hollow. He would have pulled you in, dragged you down, stripped away every piece of you until there was nothing left but regret.

And so he stayed. He stayed in that room with its suffocating walls and stagnant air, drinking whiskey he couldn’t taste and staring at his own reflection in the darkened window. The man who stared back at him was a coward, but at least he wasn’t a liar. For once.

Hours passed as the sun set over the grove, casting long, eerie shadows through the trees. When the officiant eventually left, offering you a look of deep pity and a quiet reassurance that he would wait until you were ready to go, you nodded absently, but your feet remained rooted to the spot, your eyes fixed on the path as though sheer willpower could make him appear.

It didn’t.

When the cold crept in, and the shadows swallowed the last of the light, you finally turned away, your steps heavy, the rustle of your dress against the ground a mournful echo of what should have been.

Somewhere far away, Dazai let his head fall into his hands, his shoulders shaking as the weight of his choice crushed him. You deserved better, he told himself over and over. Someone who would stand at that altar without hesitation. Someone who wouldn’t falter under the weight of love.

Yet, no matter how many times he repeated it, no matter how deeply he tried to convince himself, the truth hung in the air like a noose around his neck: he loved you. He loved you more than anything.

And he had broken you anyway.

Akutagawa had never believed in love. Not really. It was a word, a weakness wrapped in sentimentality, something people clung to when they had nothing else. And yet, against all odds, against his better judgment, he had loved you. It wasn’t a grand, sweeping love, but something raw, unspoken—a quiet tether that grounded him in a way nothing else ever had.

But love, he knew, was dangerous. Love was the crack in the armor, the flaw that could be exploited. Love could kill a man faster than any blade, and in his line of work, weakness was not an option.

So, as he stood outside the quiet hall where your wedding was supposed to take place, the weight of his decision pressing down on him, Akutagawa felt the sharp, cold edge of resolve slicing through his chest. He would not go in.

As he walked to the venue, his usual coat replaced with a dark, tailored suit, the world had been silent around him. The streets felt foreign, as if they were holding their breath, knowing what he was about to do. Even now, standing in the shadow of the doorway, he could feel the pull of you inside—your hope, your belief in him, the warmth you so freely offered despite all the walls he had built to keep you out.

For a brief second, he almost let himself indulge in the thought of it. The vows, the quiet promise of forever. The possibility of something different, something better. Swiftly, he had allowed himself to imagine it once, in the fleeting moments of silence between missions, when you would sit beside him and rest your head on his shoulder. A life where he could hold onto you, where he didn’t have to fight tooth and nail for every shred of safety and peace.

Though, that was a lie.

No matter how strong you tried to be, you weren’t like him. You didn’t belong in the shadows, in the violence and you certainly deserved a life free of blood and death and enemies lurking around every corner. And Akutagawa, for all his love, could never give you that.

It wasn’t doubt that made him hesitate; it was the overwhelming certainty that this—you—were the greatest weakness he had ever known. And for that, he couldn’t forgive himself.

Turning away from the door, Akutagawa’s steps were deliberate, the weight of his decision heavy but unwavering. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to marry you. He wanted nothing more. Ironically, this was his way of protecting you, of ending the part of himself that dared to hope, to love.

As the streets stretched out before him, gray and empty, he walked further and further from the venue. The invitation you had sent, carefully placed in his coat pocket, felt like a brand against his chest. Even as his mind conjured the image of you waiting, your dress immaculate, your eyes searching for him with the kind of trust that had always cut him to the bone, he didn’t look back,

Thinking of the promises he would never make, the life he would never share with you, he told himself it was better this way, though the words rang hollow in his mind. You would hate him, yes, but you would live. And that was all that mattered.

By the time you realized he wasn’t coming, he hoped you would be angry, furious even. He hoped you would hate him enough to let him go, to move on, to forget the man who had left you standing there with nothing but silence and shadows.

The black haired didn’t deserve you. He never had.

As he disappeared into the fog of Yokohama, Akutagawa let himself feel it—just once. The ache of leaving you behind, the unbearable weight of the love he had tried so hard to deny. He clenched his fists, nails biting into his palms as if pain could ground him, remind him why this was necessary.

This was his final act of love, twisted and cruel as it was. To walk away, to sever the bond that had made him weak, to save you from himself and the life that followed him like a curse.

Back at the venue, the clock struck the hour, the silence deafening as the officiant shifted awkwardly. The room was empty except for you, standing alone, your bouquet trembling in your hands. —And somewhere, miles away, Akutagawa kept walking, his heart a hollow shell of what it once was. This was the end. Not just of you and him, but of the part of himself that had dared to dream of something more.

He had loved you, yes. But love was weakness. And he couldn’t afford to be weak.

Being a a reflection of Chuuya himself the venue was loud, vibrant, and brimming with intensity. Fairy lights hung in tangled swirls across the ceiling, their soft glow flickering like fireflies against the polished walls. Bottles of the finest champagne chilled in ornate buckets, waiting to be uncorked in celebration. Tables overflowed with flowers, their deep red petals scattered like drops of blood across the white tablecloths. It was the kind of wedding Chuuya had always imagined—a celebration that burned bright, bold, and unforgettable.

And yet, the groom was nowhere to be found.

You waited in the dressing room, smoothing down the delicate folds of your gown with trembling hands, trying to steady your heartbeat as the minutes bled into hours. Guests whispered amongst themselves beyond the door, their voices a distant hum. But Chuuya—your Chuuya—had yet to come.

However, In a dimly lit corner of a bar, far, far from the celebration, Chuuya was drowning.

Having left the penthouse early, he was dressed sharp in his tailored suit, his fiery hair tied back with care. For weeks, he had been excited, eager, ready to make you his in every possible way. With fervor he had thrown himself into the plans—choosing the venue, the wine, the music. It had all been for you, to give you the world, to make you feel adored and cherished.

But now, sitting alone in a booth surrounded by the sharp sting of alcohol and the suffocating haze of his own doubt, he realized the truth he had been too afraid to face: he couldn’t go through with it. Not like this. Not in this life.

Chuuya wasn’t a man who second-guessed himself often. He was decisive, confident, a force of nature. But the thought of standing at that altar, of binding you to him with words he wasn’t sure he deserved to say, paralyzed him.

What kind of life could he give you? A life filled with shadows, with danger, with the blood he spilled just to survive? You deserved something clean, something bright—a life untouched by the darkness that followed him like a curse.

The red head slammed back another shot of whiskey, the burn in his throat a poor distraction from the guilt that gnawed at his insides. He thought the alcohol might dull the ache, might make it easier to forget the look in your eyes as you stood waiting for him. But it didn’t.

Instead, it sharpened everything. He could see you so clearly in his mind, your face lit with the hope he had spent months building. He thought about your laugh, the way it made him feel human in a world that so often turned him into a weapon. You were everything good, everything he had never thought he could have.

Which was exactly the problem.

Draining another glass, the liquid sloshed over the rim as his hands started shaking. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should stop, knew he was teetering on the edge of losing himself entirely. But he didn’t care. He welcomed the numbness, the oblivion, anything to drown out the voice in his head screaming at him to get up, to go to you, to stop running from the one thing that made him feel alive.

Though, he didn’t move.

Back at the venue, the silence was deafening. The band had stopped playing, the champagne left untouched, the guests slowly filtering out one by one. Sitting alone at the head table, the flowers wilted under the weight of the night’s abandonment. Suffocating, you stared at the empty seat beside you.

By the time the last guest left, and the lights dimmed to a muted glow, you finally let the tears fall. The weight of it all—the love, the loss, the unanswered questions—pressed down on you like a tidal wave.

And somewhere, Chuuya sat slumped in the corner of that bar, his head in his hands, the world spinning around him as the reality of what he had done set in. He had broken the only good thing in his life, and he didn’t even have the courage to face it.

“Idiot,” he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse. “You’re such a goddamn idiot.”

But the words meant nothing. They couldn’t bring him to you. They couldn’t undo the wreckage he had caused. And as the hours bled into dawn, and the whiskey ran dry, Chuuya realized he had made the biggest mistake of his life.

But by then, it was too late.

…. i couldn’t stop listening to this when i wrote this (i hide my love for taylor like a drug addiction.)

185 notes · View notes

rashoumon-homo · 11 months ago

Text

Hands (Chuuya x Reader)

Chuuya x Trans Male Reader, NSFW

-> Content Warnings: trans male reader, oral (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), amab terms for afab parts, “wetness” is mentioned but otherwise no fem terms

-> 1.7k words

Author’s Note: this was my first time writing trans smut and it was really really hard for me. Hopefully this is beneficial and euphoria-inducing to someone out there who doesn’t get to see themself represented in reader insert fanfic often.

NSFW CONTENT AHEAD - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

The first time you watched Chuuya tug off his gloves, you knew those hands would be the death of you. The smooth skin of his palms, those long, powerful fingers. How might they feel loosely caged around your neck? Slipped under the hem of your shirt, roaming along the expanse of your waist and abdomen?

It was no more than a fantasy; a guilty pleasure of yours. Until, a week or so after you’d started dating, you were walking side by side and he casually grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers into yours. Even with the glove acting as a layer between you, the warmth of his skin seeped through to yours. The muscles in his palms, in each section of his fingers, flexed ever so slightly as you both moved, reminding you of their presence. His hand was smaller than you expected, about the same size as yours. But he was much more confident with it, which lent to the impression it was larger than it was. He’d rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand to relax you, though it had much the opposite effect. The gentle pressure sent shivers down your spine, collecting and pulsing between your legs. It seemed your body wanted to feel that rhythmic, gentle pressure somewhere else.

When he pinned you against the wall and kissed you for the first time, his hands were a significant part of the equation. One held your waist while the other slid from the side of your neck to your jaw, his leg slotted between yours all the while. He pressed his thigh into your throbbing dick as he kissed you, coaxing a small groan from your mouth. Even while kissing, he moved deliberately; never half-assing or doubting his movements for a moment. He was confident. Dominant. Though trapped between the cool brick and his warm body pressing into you, you didn’t feel cornered or afraid; far from it. You wanted more.

Then came the fantasies. You wrote it off as innocent curiosity at first, wondering whether the pads of his fingers would be rough or smooth under the gloves. One thing led to another, and you were imagining his hands sliding over the sensitive part of your waist, squeezing the curve of your ass, pushing your thighs apart to venture between your legs. Those skilled hands would know all the right spots to touch, to press and stroke, to bring you to orgasm. The thoughts themselves were enough to aid you when getting yourself off, at least. At the rate things were going, all he’d have to do is reach for your belt and you’d cum in your pants like a teenager. Luckily for you, you lasted a bit longer when the time came.

You were spread out on his mattress, still dressed, while he stood at the foot of the bed and slipped off his jacket. He eyed you hungrily as he continued to undress, unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time at a deliberately slow pace. You licked your lips and swallowed. When you reached to take off your own clothes, he stopped you.

“I want to unwrap you myself,” he said, eyes trailing up and down your body. He tossed his shirt aside and knelt on the bed between your legs, pushing them to a bent position to give himself more room. He handed you another pillow to prop up your head, looking a little nervous for the first time since you’d met him. “You comfortable, baby?” he asked, resting his hand on your knee.

You nodded. “I’m fine,” you reassured him. “Just really fucking horny.”

Chuuya laughed lightly, now finally reaching for the button on your jeans. “That I can help with.”

You could feel the pressure of his fingers near your groin as he undid the button. Only a couple layers of fabric separated you from his touch. The tug of the zipper was unbearable, sending miniature vibrations through the fabric of your underwear. Nowhere near enough to get off from, but enough to tease you. Without thinking, you bucked up into his touch.

“Ahh, sorry,” you said quickly, hiding your face in embarrassment.

“Hey,” he said softly, pulling your hands away. “Don’t hide, baby. You being eager is a good thing.”

He tugged your pants off and threw them to the side, but hesitated before reaching for the waistband of your boxers. He ran his knuckles lightly over the fabric over your crotch, pressing a little harder at the moist patch you’d left.

“So wet for me already…” he murmured. He glanced up then, and asked, “Is that alright for me to say?”

You nodded, then guided his hand higher to where your dick throbbed against the fabric. “Though, I prefer you to point out how hard I am as a measure of arousal.” He nodded, experimentally petting over it through your boxers.

“As long as you don’t use any words you wouldn’t use for an amab guy, it’s fine,” you reminded him.

“Before I start, are you okay with my fingers inside?” he asked.

“Please,” you said quickly. Then shyly, you added, “Would you be okay with taking off your gloves? I’ve kind of been fantasizing about that for a while.”

Chuuya grinned, then tugged off his gloves with his teeth. And there were his beautiful, slender hands, exposed to the air once more. They reached for your waistband, knuckles just grazing your skin, as he pulled your boxers off.

Chuuya swallowed, eyes wide as he took in the sight before him. “God, that’s sexy,” he breathed.

He gripped the undersides of your thighs to spread them wider, positioning you. Rather than go for your dripping hole first like you expected, he rubbed his thumb along the underside of your dick. It throbbed against his touch, and you let out a short moan. He did it again, eliciting a similar reaction.

“You wanna jerk me off, baby?” you asked with a lazy smile. “Here, try like this.” You pushed his hand aside with your own and curled your finger, showing him how you like to jack off on your own. He copied the motion and pretty soon had the hang of it.

You moaned, arching your back to angle your hips towards him. “So good, baby,” you praised.

Chuuya slid his finger down to your hole and pushed it in with ease. He added another on the next thrust, curling them inside you as he moved them. “So warm,” he murmured.

“More,” you groaned. Your dick ached with need.

Continuing to stroke his fingers inside of you, he took your dick into his mouth. His eyes flicked up to study your reactions as he tried a mix of sucking it and rolling his tongue over it at different intensities.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. Your breath came out as short gasps as you writhed under his touch. “Feels so fucking good.” Those hands really were magic, the way they pressed into you just right. And his mouth must have been sent from heaven, with how expertly he sucked dick.

Chuuya’s free hand pressed down on your hip to hold you in place. His hips were moving, you noticed, as he grinded against the bed. After a broken moan of yours, he groaned against your dick, sending vibrations shooting through you like lightning.

“Chuuya!” you gasped. A familiar heat started to gather in your groin. Your eyes rolled back and you gripped the sheets so hard your knuckles turned white. “Chuuya… fuck, Chuuya… ‘m gonna-”

Your whole body tensed and you let out a loud cry, clenching down hard on Chuuya’s fingers. He slowed down but continued to fuck you through the orgasm.

He took his mouth off your dick and must have at some point started rambling words of praise because when you came back down, he was murmuring, “…hot like that, the way you look when you cum, you’re doing so good for me baby boy, so perfect.”

You breathed heavily, muscles finally relaxing. Your skin was covered with a sheen of sweat and you felt exhausted but happy. When you looked down at Chuuya, he was looking back at you with such adoration it made you feel shy all over again.

“Taking my fingers out now,” he warned. He slid them out, then quickly grabbed a tissue to catch the majority of the cum dripping from them. He gave you a kiss on the forehead, then said, “I’m gonna wash my hands and then I’ll come clean you up, ‘kay?”

You nodded, and closed your eyes. There was the sound of the bathroom sink once, then twice, then the pressure of him sitting on the bed alerted you to his return. He gently cleaned you up with a warm washcloth, then set clean pajamas at the end of the bed.

“You should probably go piss before you fall asleep,” he said. “I heard it’s important.”

“You did your research,” you said, surprised.

“Well, yeah,” he said, as if it was obvious. “I wanna take good care of my boyfriend. If that means doing some extra reading, I’ll do it.”

Your eyes crinkled into a smile. “Babe! When I get back from the bathroom, I want cuddles, so get ready.”

In the bathroom, you changed into the pajamas Chuuya had lent you, smiling at your reflection in the mirror like an idiot. And true to your word, as soon as you came back to the bedroom, you hopped in beside him and snuggled into his arms. The comforter had been replaced with a new one - luckily all the mess had been on top of it instead of the sheets.

Chuuya kissed you as you settled into the sheets, stroking the back of your head lovingly.

“Thank you for taking such good care of me- for everything really. I’m sorry I didn’t get you off too,” you said.

“Oh, uh…” he said, blushing. “I kinda… came while sucking you off?”

Your eyes widened and you grinned. “You did not!”

Chuuya shrugged sheepishly.

“And here I thought I was gonna be the one to cum before even getting touched,” you snickered.

“Hey!” he said, shoving your arm.

You caught him in a kiss, and the two of you laughed together until you fell asleep tangled in each other’s arms.

Back to Masterlist

#rashoumon writes #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x male reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x male reader #trans male reader #male reader #chuuya smut #bsd smut #bsd fic

407 notes · View notes

tsuiioku · 1 year ago

Text

ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ᴍʏ ꜱᴋᴜʟʟ ᴏᴘᴇɴ · ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴘʟᴇ ʙꜱᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ

featured. osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol, sigma. content. f!reader. based on a request from @sigma-s-wife. implied/referenced depression, mentions of crying, hurt/comfort, issues with releasing emotions. not proofread.

author's note. i'm using a more simplistic aesthetic for my posts! as much as i love making banners, i think i'm gonna reserve that for larger projects. it can become a hassle to customize them every time i post, and especially troublesome whenever the aesthetic of my blog changes.

would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 understands. Feeling that instinctual need to release your emotions as your body rages with your mind as if a tear will rip apart everything you've worked so hard to earn. It builds a wall, locking you in a prison of your design. But it shows—the tension in your shoulders, the fog of your eyes, the shallowness of your breath.

He hates it, forced to watch as your body works against you. He's been there before, trapped in his mind. Unable to escape. But he isn't an infamous genius for nothing.

You'd find yourself dragged into a movie marathon featuring your favorites. And while your thoughts raged and your mind cared less about the scenes unfolding in front of you, your body ever-so-slowly relaxed back into him. That was the sign he was looking for. With that, he slipped in another movie, disrupting your comfortable position on the couch and momentarily focusing your brain on the screen. It was a sad movie, one that had never failed to make you cry.

And he'd be right there as you caved, his warm hands firm against your back as you sobbed in his shoulder, fingers drawing circles in your skin as he darted kisses across your adorable, puffed cheeks.

"Shh, it's okay, love. I'm right here."

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 knows it isn't wise to keep your emotions bottled up. That has never been a problem for him—quite the opposite. In a way, he almost admires that you're trying to keep yourself together and stay afloat under all the pressure. Almost.

Your emotions are ripping you apart from the inside, making every move sluggish and unsteady, as if you could collapse in on yourself at any moment. And he doesn't like it, not one bit. It's evident to anyone that you're hurting, and he tries not to display his frustration about the fact that he can't do anything about it.

So, instead, he tries something a bit out of his forte. He subtly checks in on you throughout the day, occasionally dropping into your office with water and snacks before gently prodding at your emotional level. Subtle is a stretch—he's trying his best not to back you into a corner, but he can't help his blatant concern.

If you feel ready, he's open for you to talk about anything that's bothering you, big or small. It'd have the caveat of him having the impulse to take care of the issue—that's the type of person he is. He wants to take care of you, and if he can ease your pain, he'll do it—no questions asked.

"You good? Okay, if you need anything, come get me. Got it, doll?"

𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 becomes much softer than he would like to admit. He knows the moment something is wrong, but he also knows that usually, you are completely capable of self-regulating—most of the time. However, as time passes, he can feel the drop in your mental health, becoming increasingly concerned as you stop partaking in basic tasks and self-care.

He has a problem with seeing specific issues as trivial while also not being the most affectionate or attentive. However, he'd brush that aside for now. If he can fix your problems, he will, but he knows that won't completely remedy the situation. You need to release those emotions and relax, and he knows that his absence only furthers your feelings of isolation.

You're persuaded to sit in his lap, not that it took much work, given how touch-starved you are, head resting against his shoulder. He knows you melt at the sound of his voice, especially when speaking in his native tongue, so he sorted through his collection of Russian literature to find a few stories you'd like, even if you didn't understand it.

You wouldn't even notice, your mind too fogged with sleep, as the story shifted. His eyes barely glanced at the page, nimble hands working into the tense muscles of your back as he pressed sweet nothings in whispered breaths against your head.

"Отдыхай, моя любовь. Я буду здесь, когда ты проснешься."

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈 is much smarter than people give him credit for. But being smart and able to tell what someone is feeling does not mean that you're the best person to resolve their issues, and he knows that. But he still tries his best.

He is known as a clown for a reason; he's an expert on making you laugh. And he'll do anything, absolutely anything, to see a genuine smile on your face. If there's something he hates more than a frown, it is a fake smile—he knows you're faking it, hiding behind a mask in hopes of appeasing him.

And it's not right. He's determined to find something that will pierce through your sadness, and he'll find it. The man is nothing if not persistent. He's gonna make you smile, a genuine smile.

He's dipping and spinning you around your home, pulling you into little dances as he pulls item after item out of his overcoat. Even if you become exhausted, he's still sitting right there with you, letting you mess with various items he has stored up, guiding you back into reality.

"For my next trick, a lovely rose for a lovely rose! Does it spray water? Nooooo."

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 has no clue what to do. He is completely inexperienced in the art of comforting someone, specifically in a non-professional setting. A part of him wants to shift into that persona, but he finds himself hesitating. You deserve genuineness, not the artificial bullshit he puts on for guests.

He finds himself accidentally being straightforward, much more blunt than normal. But for some reason, it seems to work. The emotions he portrays are truly genuine, and the care in his voice, along with the concern in his expression, does wonders for grounding you.

He's intentional about his actions, making sure that you've taken time off to rest, along with providing you with everything you need or want. But most importantly, he stays with you. He knows that you need someone there with you, and even if he is anxious about his lack of experience, he stays.

And that's what counts. He stays snuggled up against you, watching over you and simply existing with you for a moment. It's nice. No customers. No casino. Just you and him, watching the clouds pass by through the windows.

"I love you. You know that, right?"

отдыхай, моя любовь. я буду здесь, когда ты проснешься = rest, my love. i'll be here when you wake up.

TAGLIST: @sillyspookycat @aureatchi @mxxny-lupin @emyyy007 @betweensinners @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @ajaxism @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @guacamoleroll-main

404 notes · View notes

cloudyyoimiya · 2 years ago

Note

Can i request measuring hands with Dazai, chuuya and tecchou and s/o hands are smaller, please :)

this request was adorable! when i saw it i couldn’t get it off of my mind. i don’t doubt that my own hands would be smaller than theirs, well, besides chuuya that is (sorry)! this is also doubling as my hand headcanons whoops. anyways, thank you for the request anon! <3

Measuring Their Hands; Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, and Suehiro Tecchou

Format: Scenarios

Osamu Dazai

“Come here for a moment,” you said as you looked at your boyfriend.

Dazai was currently sprawled out on the couch of your shared apartment, hogging all of the blankets he could possibly find. You were honestly worried that he might get overheated, but then again, it was Dazai after all. He had a knack for somehow managing to survive dire situations, so you knew that he would be fine.

“Why? I’m comfortable,” he whined. “How about you come over here!”

You rolled your eyes then got up from where you were sitting. You then sat down on the arm rest that Dazai was resting his head on with a soft sigh. After that you had started to dig around in the cocoon of blankets that Dazai wrapped himself in. Eventually after some trial and error, you managed to find his right hand. You quickly grabbed it and pulled it out of the blankets in victory.

“Found it!” You exclaimed.

Dazai looked at you questionably. “What are you up to?”

You didn’t respond to him.

In fact you silently flattened your hand and put it against Dazai’s. His bandaged hand was larger than yours, albeit not by a lot. Your finger tips had only managed to reach his middle knuckles. His hands were calloused, most likely from wielding fire arms often from his mafia days. It wasn’t unpleasant though.

“Your hands are bigger,” you simply stated.

Dazai raised a brow at you. “They are indeed. Maybe it’s because you’re so short!”

You clicked your tongue then playfully rolled your eyes. “I am not short.”

“But look at you! Your hands are clearly smaller than mine! Oh, it makes me want to protect you even more,” Dazai gushed.

“How romantic. Truly, you are my knight in shining armor,” you deadpanned.

Dazai chuckled. He then carefully took your hand into his. Afterwards Dazai then slowly brought your knuckles to his mouth, then gave it a small peck as he closed his eyes. He then looked up at you and gave you a smile.

“If I’m your knight, then I shall treat you like royalty, my love,” he said as he let go of your hand.

He then pulled you into his embrace, wrapping his blankets around you. He made sure that you were unable to move away from his tight hug as he spoke to you once more.

“I love you.”

Chuuya Nakahara

Today was one of Chuuya’s very rare days off. Therefore, the two of you were currently out at a restaurant. Chuuya had sought out this establishment because the reviews had said that their wine was delectable, and Chuuya didn’t want to miss out on this said wine.

He had brought you to a private booth much to your disliking. The two of you were holding hands, his pinky interlocked with yours. It was a very sweet gesture, but it made you think. Whose hands are were bigger?

Once the two of you sat down, you immediately grabbed his hand. You quickly took off one of his gloves and put it on your lap gently. You then flattened his palm alongside with yours and placed them together.

“What’re you doing?” Chuuya asked, a singular eyebrow raising.

“Measuring our hands, duh.”

You stared at his hand. Your hand was barely any smaller than his. Your finger tips reached his third knuckle; the one that was near his own finger tips. His fingers only had the smallest bit of callouses. He only really used his ability instead of weapons, so it was to be expected.

Despite all of this, his hands were on the softer side. It was comforting to touch his hand like this.

“Your hands are bigger than mine,” you said with a smile. “That’s weird. I thought that they’d be smaller than mine since you’re shorter than me.”

Chuuya groaned then interlaced your fingers together. He then brought your hands down to the table and held your hand gently. Afterwards Chuuya started to rub small circles with his thumb into your palm.

“Will you ever stop teasin’ me about my height?!” He asked.

“No, I don’t think so.”

You grabbed his glove off from your lap and brought it up to him. You then took your hand away from his grasp and put on his glove gently. Chuuya only stayed silent as he watched you do this, a small smile adorning his features.

The two of you stayed silent for a while until Chuuya eventually spoke up. “(Name)?”

“Hm?”

“Your tiny hands are adorable,” he said with a snicker.

You rolled your eyes. “They aren’t tiny.”

“Well they’re tiny compared to mine.”

“Only by a little bit!” You exclaimed.

“Uh huh, sure,” he said with a smirk.

“Chuuya!”

He let out a short chuckle then kissed your cheek. He then picked up your hand once more and held it gently. He acted as if your hand was made of glass—or maybe even a stack of cards piled up to make a house.

Chuuya then gave you a soft smile then started to speak once more. “I love you.”

Suehiro Tecchou

Currently, the two of you were out on patrol. With the current rise of crime in a certain district, you and your boyfriend were tasked to look around and make sure nothing illegal is happening. So far nothing noteworthy has happened besides Tecchou holding your hand rather tightly. It didn’t hurt, no, not at all. In fact it was rather comforting—you liked it.

When you eventually looked down at your interlaced fingers, you noticed that Tecchou’s hand was bigger than yours. Curious, you stopped walking and brought your intertwined hands up to your line of vision and stared at them for a moment.

“Hm?” Tecchou looked down at you. “Is something the matter?”

“No. Just flatten your hand real quick,” you said as you stopped holding his hand. You then flattened your own palm. “Please?”

Tecchou’s face remained indifferent as he did what he was told. He flattened his palm, then you put your hands together.

His hand was larger than yours by a long shot. It also had countless callouses all over, the most prominent being where he would normally hold his saber. Despite this though, they were still slightly soft. There were also a few small scars littered across his palm alongside his index and middle finger.

“Your hands are bigger than mine, ’Hiro,” you said with a small giggle.

His expression was still as indifferent as before once he spoke up. “I can see that.”

“Do you know what that means?”

“No.”

“It means that you have to hold my hands more often,” you spoke matter-of-factly.

“Why?”

“Because they make me feel safe, duh.”

You interlaced your hands together once more, then put them down back at your side. Tecchou then lightly squeezed your hand then started to walk once more. You of course followed him, albeit with a small grin on your face.

“What was the point of that?” He asked while looking forward.

“I was just curious to see how big your hand is compared to mine,” you said while looking up at him.

“That’s weird,” he muttered as he continued to walk. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Again, I was curious. Plus, you have no room to talk about weirdness. I saw you eat mini tomatoes with your strawberry shortcake last night.”

He tilted his head to the side a little bit. “But it was good?”

“Yeah… sure it was,” you said playfully as you rolled your eyes. You then got on the tip of your feet and kissed his petal markings. “I love you, Mr. Big Hands.”

“Don’t call me that please,” he said as he sighed. “And I love you too.”

1K notes · View notes

idle-daydreams · 1 year ago

Text

Demon King - Part 2

Shutendoji!Chuuya x Reader

Continuation of this.

Tw: Yandere, dub-con, mentions of blood, cannibalism and violence

[A.N: This got way too long, and isn't very yandere-y, imo. But its been in my head for a while, and I hope you guys like it!]

In a certain way, being the wife of the Drunken Demon wasn’t all that bad.

You’d reached this conclusion on a silent night like this one, padding through the corridors by yourself. Chuuya’s – Manor? Castle? You weren’t quite sure – was far bigger than the quarters to which you were confined, quarters that were nevertheless larger than your entire home back in your village. They were a picture of comfort: there was a massive canopied bed, piled high with the softest pillows for you to sleep on; magical lamps illuminated the place, neither dimming nor burning out no matter how long they were kept lit. A roaring fire kept you warm in the winters, and hidden vents that kept you cool in the summer. There was always food and water, fresh and clean and delicious. You had your own bath, with more running water than you could have ever used in your entire life, heated or cooled to your body temperature. Chuuya brought you books to read, parchment to paint, any manner of things to pass the time, things that you couldn’t ever have imagined owning. He’d even allowed you a garden, though you weren’t to go there in his absence. He loved to spoil you, giving you everything you could possibly ask for; he was kind, and patient, indulging your idlest whim and your most irrational desires.

The only thing he denied you was your freedom.

You sighed, sinking down upon your bed. At one time, the loneliness had frightened you. Stories of the Drunken Demon had consumed your mind, and you’d spent countless hours curled up in a corner, crying and shaking and throwing up from the sheer terror of what he would do to you. Now, you relished these moments of solitude, times when Chuuya wasn’t clinging to your waist or brushing your hair or fucking you senseless wherever he could. The bruises and love-bites littering your skin, proof of his demented love, delighted him to a frenzy. Your cheeks still burned at the memory of hours the two of you had spent locked in a tangle of limbs, lost in the throes of pleasure, worlds removed from the puritanical teachings of your wifely duties drilled into your head during your early years. As with everything else, you’d gotten used to it – that part of your ‘marriage’ had been shamefully easy to get used to – but you knew what inevitably lay next. Either Chuuya would grow tired of you... or he would impregnate you. You’d never liked the idea of children, but the thought of raising half-demon offspring filled you with dread.

How long has it been? you wondered. Weeks? Months? A year? Despite the massive windows – always shut for your safety, of course, but still allowing you a view of the walled gardens – it was difficult to gauge the passage of time, since the path of the sun and moon didn’t seem to be that consistent in the demon world. You couldn’t help but wonder: did your family miss you, or did they think you dead? If Chuuya had truly bought you from them – and despite your adamant refusals to his face, you had to admit your family would have easily sold you off – then what tale had he spun to them? What exactly had they thought of Chuuya himself?

The thought of your ‘husband’ still sent shivers down your spine. It was difficult to wrap your head around the idea of being the wife of Shuten Doji, a demon so terrifying that people had trembled at the very sound of his name. Even though Chuuya wasn’t that Shuten Doji, he was still insanely powerful: on the rare occasion that Chuuya had taken you out in public, arm wrapped firmly around your waist, you’d been awed by the sight of great and dreadful demons sinking to their knees before him, not even daring to look upon his face. You’d seen him fight, tearing apart beasts and monsters twice his size with his bare hands, a maniacal grin on his face, red marks dancing upon his skin, reminders of his power. It had been incredible to witness and terrifying to comprehend.

The sound of the door opening jolted you from your thoughts. You tensed as a pair of muscular arms wrapped around you, Chuuya’s now-familiar from pressing against your back.

“Hey, [Y/N],” he murmured in your ear. “I’m back. Did you miss me?”

“Good evening, Chuuya.” You reached up to caress his cheek. “Yes, I missed you very much.”

“Good. I missed you too.” He pressed kisses upon the side of your neck. “So, what were you doing all day? You haven’t finished that watercolor you were working on. I thought you liked that stuff.”

“I… was thinking of you.” You closed your eyes as his hands began to wander. “I guess I lost track of time.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” Chuuya molded himself to you even tighter. “I know the feeling. I can’t get you out of my head either, you know that? I love you so much, miss you so much, it’s almost annoying sometimes. Sometimes I wish I could carry you around with me, you know? Put you in my pocket so that I can look at you wherever I go. Wouldn’t you like that, [Y/N]?”

“It would be nice.” You shifted slightly, trying to put some distance between the two of you as surreptitiously as you could. He was just so close: his hands were splayed upon your belly, chest flush against your back, chin resting in the crook of your neck. Chuuya responded with a small growl, nipping at your ear.

“Stop it,” he murmured. “I haven’t seen you since this morning. You want to be with me, don’t you?”

“Of course,” you said quickly. “But, I just, um—” Your eye fell upon the gourd of sake sitting in the corner— “I just thought you might like a drink.”

“Hm? Why not?” To your relief, Chuuya loosened his grip on you, leaning back to recline lazily on the bed. His eyes, however, followed your every movement, his gaze hungry.

“Come here,” he said as you proffered the sake to him. “You know I don’t like drinkin’ alone.”

You pursed your lips. You didn’t like the demon lord’s wine; while Chuuya claimed it wasn’t made from human blood, he also wouldn’t tell you exactly where it came from. Nevertheless, you settled into his embrace once again, allowing him to wrap an arm around you. Chuuya began playing with the sash of your kimono.

“You seem distracted tonight, [Y/N],” he said, playing with the sash of your kimono. “Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing’s wrong.”

“You’re usually way more sarcastic than you’re being right now. Did anything happen? Are you unhappy? Do you want something?”

“No.” You bit your lip as the silken fabric gave way all too easily under his sharp nails, allowing his hands to brush against your breast. “I’m happy to be with you. I don’t want anything right now.”

“Then drink.” He held the sake to your lips invitingly. It was rich and dark and far too potent for your liking, making your head spin with a single sip. You grabbed his wrist to stop him, making him laugh.

“Still so weak,” he said. “But you should drink more. It’ll make you feel better.”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s what you always say. I’m starting to feel like that’s code for something.”

He set aside the gourd, lowering his head to your breasts. Slowly, with agonizing tenderness, he began suckling on the pebbled flesh, drawing a keening moan from your lips.

“C-Chuuya,” you said. “Please.”

“Please what? You want me to stop?”

“No, but—” Your breath hitched as Chuuya returned to his ministrations, fist tightening in his hair. He was good, so good, that it was almost frightening. His hands wandered your body, sending sparks dancing in their wake. You arced your back, forgetting your hesitations as your mind sank deeper into a pleasurable haze. As you let out another moan, Chuuya hummed in approval.

“I want you, [Y/N],” he mumbled against your skin. “I want you so much it hurts sometimes. You’re so beautiful, so kind, so perfect in every way. I’ve seen my fair share of princesses and noble women, but none of ‘em hold a candle to you, you know that?”

“T—Thank you.” You looked away, embarrassed by his praise. Even after the level of intimacy between the two of you, it was still difficult to talk to him. There was a wide gulf between the two of you, a gulf you didn’t think you could ever cross.

Chuuya raised himself on his forearms to look at you. Your eyes flitted to his bare chest and his well-sculpted body, a being that once had been only a dream. Heat flooded your face, pleasure and panic tangling in your chest, and his smile widened.

“You like me too, don’t you?” he purred. “Course you do. I still remember the first time I brought you here. You were so scared then, such a shy little mouse. Now you’re not so scared, are you? Now you love me.”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I love you.”

He chuckled delightedly, swooping to press his forehead against yours. “I love you too,” he whispered against your lips. “I’ll give you anything and everything you want. A slip of moonlight? A bed of gold? The heads of every man in the world laid out at your feet? All you have to do is ask.”

You gazed upon him, into his guileless, grey-blue eyes. “I want to go home,” you whispered.

Chuuya paused, sitting up. Your heart sank, and you braced yourself for the incoming onslaught of begging and accusations.

“Home,” he said flatly. “You want to go… to your human home.”

“Not because I don’t love you,” you said quickly. “But – I am a human, Chuuya. I’m not a demon like you. I can’t live locked up forever like this.”

“Neither can demons.” He reached out to trace patterns along your shoulders, his tone oddly flat. “A demon’s world is far bigger than that of any human. I could show you things, places, people you couldn’t even imagine. You know the only reason I keep you locked up is because you continue to resist me.”

“I don’t resist you,” you pointed out hopelessly. “I live with you; I sleep with you. I call myself your wife! What more do you want?”

“There is more.” Chuuya leaned in closer, a strange light in his eyes.” There is a ritual – a proper ritual to join the two of us for all of eternity. If you’d only agree to that, then we’d be mates for the rest of our lives.”

“A ritual?” You stared at him. “You mean you want to turn me into a demon?”

“Its not as bad as the humans believe.”

“I believe that too!” You pulled away, filled with a sickening dread. Some part of you had realized this, but it was horrifying to hear it from his lips nevertheless. “I’m not going to turn into a demon, Chuuya! You can’t do that to me.”

“Why not?” He laughed bitterly. “You think you’re still purely a human?”

“I’m not… changed.” Your eyes filled with tears as you met his gaze. “I may have been with you, but I’m still me.”

“And you think that’s all you’ve done?” He loomed over you suddenly, the room seeming to fill with shadows. Flickers of red ran up his face and down his chest and arms, reflecting the red in his eyes. “You’ve eaten demon food, taken a demon’s seed inside you.” He raised his arm, showing you a thin scar that ran along its length. “You’ve drank my blood.”

Your blood ran cold at the sight. “No,” you said hoarsely. “Even then, I—I’m not a demon.”

Chuuya’s mouth tightened. You shrank back, terrified, only for him to pull away abruptly. “Fine,” he said, getting off the bed. “If you want to go home so bad, then let’s go home.”

“Wait, I’m sorry!” You sat up, alarmed. “Wait, please, I–I—"

“What?” He turned to you. “I thought you wanted to see your family.”

“I do, but…”

“I’m not going to hurt them, [Y/N].” He smiled, a rictus snarl. “I promise. Now come here.”

Something in his words made your hair stand on end “Yes, m—my lord,” you said, hurrying towards him.

“I’ve told you, [Y/N].” He wrapped his arms around you, pressing a hand over your eyes. “Call me Chuuya.”

The air changed. It grew cold. The wind rustled your hair, making you blink. As Chuuya pulled his hand away, you looked around, eyes smarting from the chill in the air.

You were standing on a hill overlooking a glittering city.

“Where are we?” you asked, voice trembling.

“Don’t you recognize it?” Chuuya waved a hand at the town laid out below. “Your village.”

“But—” You took a step forward, peering down at the twinkling network of lights. “No, it’s not. My village was pretty small. That is some great city.”

“That is a small place compared to the cities of today. But maybe you need more convincing.” He grasped your hand again, and in the blink of an eye you were standing in front of a shrine. Your village’s shrine.

But it was changed. Lichen covered the gates, moss creeping through the cracks in the ground. But more than that was the tall light that stood just outside the gate, a little flat plate just beneath it.

“It – those lights,” you said. “Those are the lights from your palace.”

“They’re called electric lights, and they’re not exclusive to my palace.” Chuuya crossed his arms. “The world has moved on, [Y/N]. It’s been a couple of hundred years since I took you, give or take a decade.”

“No!” You turned to him, aghast. “No, it – you’re lying!”

“Well, you’re welcome to go down into town and ask people, if you don’t believe me. Or read that plaque over there. Or even wander the world if that’s what you want. But you’ll find that I’m tellin’ the truth. You’ve been my wife for over two hundred years now.”

“No!” You turned a full circle, scanning the scene for someone, something, to prove him wrong. Your eyes met Chuuya’s, and the pain and resignation in them made you pause. “You’re… not lying,” you said blankly.

“No.” He shook his head with a small smile. “I wouldn’t lie to you, [Y/N], it’s not my style. I’d have told you outright if your family was around – I’m not afraid of any of them, no one will ever keep you from me. But they’re not there anymore.”

“But – why?” You sank to the leaf-strewn ground, shaking, your vision blurry with tears. “Why would you do to me?”

“Because you are not listening to me.” Chuuya sank to his knees beside you, embracing you. “You’re mine. You belong to me. You were always meant to be with me. You just needed to lose everything to understand that.”

#yandere chuuya #yandere bsd #yandere bungou stray dogs #bsd imagines #yandere nakahara chuuya #bsd x reader #nakahara chuuya

177 notes · View notes

unicornpopcorn14 · 5 days ago

Text

My fellow bsd-analysers! I need help getting a reliable source for info I found!

I've been doing some research on the dragon's head conflict, and, naturally, looked into the wiki-fandom page first thing. That's when I found some interesting information that I've never seen before, nor have I found anyone mention. The information is as following:

(After Chuuya punched Dazai in the manga):

Later, Shibusawa reappears, noting the streets are more populated than normal considering the ongoing war. He approaches a florist, asking her for a bouquet of white flowers, but the woman reveals a gun. The woman, alongside all the other 'citizens', is part of a faction Dazai leads. Dazai confronts Shibusawa himself, bluntly telling him he won't hesitate in killing him, and that, no matter how powerful the ability, a "one-man army" stands no chance against a juggernaut faction of ability users like the Port Mafia. This concept interests Shibusawa, who asks Dazai if "power in numbers" is why Dazai joined the Port Mafia, to which Dazai confirms. Their conversation continues, and in the end, Dazai states that while he can let go of the death of 'Colonel', he is not kind enough to leave Shibusawa alive. Shibusawa approves of Dazai's resolve, urging him and the Port Mafia to show no remorse. He states the conflict will not end until he is defeated. Dazai argues it will only end after everyone dies, and claims to know a way to end everything. To which, Shibusawa suggests "more conflict". Shibusawa compares the Dragon's Head Conflict to a conflagration - a large, destructive fire - and the only way to end it is to extinguish its flames with an even larger, greater explosion. A massive explosion goes off, much to Dazai's (rare) shock. Shibusawa explains he's arranged a war between the Port Mafia and all the opposing organisations combined and intends to destroy their headquarters. Dazai cannot believe Shibusawa arrived here, prepared to die, but Shibusawa informs him he made two miscalculations. 1- Shibusawa knew of the ambush. 2- Assuming Shibusawa belongs to no organisation. An array of different abilities attack, slaughtering the gunmen. Shibusawa confirms Dazai's claim: that the power of an organisation is incredible, as he found his way into one out of sheer boredom. Another assault hails down on the Port Mafia's headquarters. Oddly impressed with the 'White Giraffe', Dazai learns Shibusawa's name - and as such, the head of the Dragon's Head Conflict. A Mafia building crashes into the plaza, along with many other buildings belonging to different organisations. Despite all the organisations now participating in a single war, Dazai goes missing.

When did all of this happen?? The article provides no source for this section. I checked the manga, the dead apple lightnovel, even the dark era ln, and none mentioned anything about Dazai's confrontation with Shibusawa when he was 16. All of them cut from Chuuya punching Dazai straight to seeing Dazai captured and waiting to be rescued.

It still seems too detailed to be something fanon, so what's the source, exactly? And where can I find it?

#this legit drove me crazy #am i getting gaslighted??#help a gal out #the things we do for fanfics smh #bsd #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #bsd shibusawa #shibusawa tatsuhiko #dragon head conflict #bsd dragons head conflict #dead apple #bsd dead apple #bsd dazai #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #j's post #question

32 notes · View notes

elizais · 1 year ago

Text

black and blue

pm!reader x chuuya summary: reader comes back from a long mission exhausted, hurt/comfort, chuuya takes care of you warnings: alcohol, injuries

mori knew you would be gone for a few weeks, but chuuya knew you would be gone for too long. everyone knew about you and chuuya, staying in their line but always discussing how the executive who put people in their place was with the only ray of sunshine in the organisation. executive nakahara did care for his subordinates, but didn't show it like you did. you weren't open about how you joined but everyone had their theories because it didn't add up compared to your kind nature. only a few people knew why you were there, you didn't dwell on it. you didn't enjoy this line of work but you done it to protect the city you held so dear to your heart.

you had been at the port mafia for so long your only boss was mori, you stood with the executives. fortunately, this meant less missions away and taking care of your people in your section. unfortunately.. this meant the most important assignments went to your level. it just so happened to be that your specialised skills were the only ones to fit this task. it was dropped on you at an executives meeting. mori sat in his chair at the end of the table. looking up and down his sheet of paper, every last executive bored to death.

you looked at chuuya across from you, finishing your doodle with a smile. elise was sat next to you and the other side of you was kouyou. you lifted up the notepad so that chuuya saw the blank side of it and you nudged elise. she began to laugh at your very unflattering drawing of a carrot wearing a hat. knowing exactly who it was directed to. in the middle of entertaining elise, mori spoke again after inspecting details on the document that could upset a room in seconds.

he cleared his throat as he said, "there is an incredibly strong organisation emerging in another city. it will have to be taken down by one of you guys." he paused as he inspected the faces of the people who carried this city on their shoulders with him.

despite your playful nature, mori knew better than most how serious you could be for the sake of your home. "it will be y/n." he watched elise's face drop almost as fast as the colour drained from chuuya's face. no matter the amount of protesting from other executives, elise, even the lowest members (most likely only caring because chuuya is less likely to be angry when you are around). mori had told you that in two days time, you would leave for at least a week.

and that is what lead you to now. chuuya had been noticeably off his game for the past 12 days, everyone knew the reason. no contact was allowed at all. but, as he settled in to being back at the large penthouse after another long day, the home your paychecks covered more than comfortably, that felt a little larger now. the man got up to pour himself a glass of wine, allowing the screen on the wall to load up. as he sat back down and flicked through the mindless tv shows on, a groan came from behind the elevator after the familiar noise of an incorrect code, and then the ding of the correct one. his body immediately knew who it was, his face lit up and he forgot about everything bad in the world.

until, the person who he wished he could always be around was looking at him through bloodshot eyes surrounded by ominous dark circles. his idea of happiness and all things lovely was leaning on the wall for support with an unusual unkempt look.

his love looked like she fought a bear in the elevator, she saw him for the first time and allowed her tired face to use the last of her energy to smile. he immediately ran over to you. you had sunk against the wall with your legs in front of you. chuuya thought he was under a horrible ability until you spoke to him "i missed you, chu.." you spoke croaky, weak and coarse. your broken voice pierced his heart with the shards it left in the air.

your scalp had dried blood clinging to it, every other inch of your body scraped and scratched. he was thankful there weren't any deeper wounds, other than the one that appeared inside of him. "c'mere doll," he spoke to you, barely above a whisper. despite what many think, he is still exceptionally strong without his ability. seamlessly, he picked you up from under your shoulders, pressing your chest to his and allowing your head to look over his shoulder. "let's get you a bath." he finished as he carried your body through the corridors of your home.

he was thankful that your 'expensive taste in bathrooms' (as he always teased) lead to large, marble counters attached to the wall, so he could let you sit on them and lean against the wall as he ran the water into the corner bathtub you also insisted on getting. "do you want to talk about it?" he asked you with his sympathetic tone. "mori was not joking when he said they were strong.." you tried to laugh out but it came out emotionless as you looked at chuuya grabbing the bandages in the cupboard. "you don't need to try and keep everyone in a good mood at the cost of your own, y/n" he responded with his back turned to you.

"aren't those the ones dazai has for when he comes over for a movie night?" you dodged his previous statement with your question. chuuya scowled at the mention of his name even though you know he trusts him.

"yes, they are. damn mackerel always inviting himself over." he spoke as he grabbed a washcloth to gently clean your face whilst taking off your clothing. you knew he wasn't doing it in a sexual manner and was genuinely worried. "did you take down their boss?" he spoke after a comfortable silence. "barely." you sighed.

after he cleaned the dried dirt off with the washcloth, he lifted you into the bath and soon he followed suit, grabbing a gentle shampoo, the matching conditioner for your hair, and a hairbrush. he was not sure if you even saw the state your hair that you love dearly was in.

as he sat down by you in the tub, he turned your head so he could brush your hair, gently wetting it so that it would be easier to get through. you leaned back, almost falling asleep. he didn't mention the jagged cuts in your hair or the thinner patches. he could tell you were in a close combat fight and his heart broke. chuuya assumed you hadn't seen your hair yet, he didn't ask as you had finally steadied yourself since arriving home.

he didn't notice you falling asleep until your head fell to his chest, using his gravity manipulation to keep you sat upright without noticing as he finished taking care of your hair.

eventually, he dried your body and hair whilst moving you with his ability so you could stay asleep. waking up the next morning in your bed like you should.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #port mafia #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chūya #nakahara chuuya #chuuya nakahara x reader

158 notes · View notes

todorokis-girl · 7 months ago

Text

It's MY Body - Chuuya Nakahara x F!reader

Soulmate AU

When Chuuya Nakahara and Y/N, a member of the Armed Detective Agency, wake up in each other's bodies, they are shocked to discover they are soulmates. Navigating their opposing affiliations, they must find a way to reconcile their feelings and work together.

masterlist

The morning sun streamed through the window, casting golden hues across the room as Y/N stirred awake. She blinked groggily, feeling unusually heavy and disoriented. The bed beneath her felt foreign, the room unfamiliar. Panic surged through her veins as she bolted upright, her breath hitching. She looked down at her hands—hands that were calloused and larger than her own. She was feeling stronger, more agile, and surrounded by the masculine elegance of Chuuya's apartment, though she didn't know it was his quite yet. His hat was perched on a stand by the door, his coat neatly hung, and the lingering scent of his cologne enveloped her. She walked to the mirror, her reflection showing Chuuya's piercing blue eyes and signature red hair.

“What the hell?” she muttered, her voice deep and commanding. Familiar.

Meanwhile, across town, Chuuya Nakahara awoke in a similar state of confusion, in a world entirely foreign. He groaned, rubbing his eyes, only to find them softer and more delicate than he remembered. He sat up, feeling an unaccustomed lightness and the silky sensation of long hair brushing his shoulders. He looked down at himself, eyes widening in shock. he stood up to look at himself in a near by mirror, the reflection staring back was of a young woman with hair cascading around her shoulders, eyes wide with shock.

“Y/N?” he whispered, his voice unfamiliar and soft. "This has to be a joke," he muttered, his voice higher and more feminine.

The two spent the first few hours in a state of utter bewilderment, trying to come to terms with their new realities. Y/N, now in Chuuya's body, felt an overwhelming surge of power coursing through her veins—an intensity she had never experienced before. She struggled to control it, fearing she might unintentionally unleash his ability, Corruption.

Chuuya, on the other hand, found himself in awe of the gentle yet profound connection to nature he felt within Y/N's body. He could sense the wind whispering secrets to him, the plants responding to his emotions, and an innate ability to influence the weather. He marveled at the raw, untamed power that seemed to flow so naturally through her.

After a frantic exchange of phone calls and a hasty meeting, they stood face-to-face in a secluded alleyway, away from prying eyes. The air between them crackled with tension and unspoken questions.

"How did this happen?" Y/N asked, her voice shaky "Did you do this?" The accusatory tone, evident.

"I have no idea," Chuuya replied, crossing his arms and trying to appear composed despite the turmoil inside. "I didn't do this, But we need to figure it out. Fast."

Their eyes locked, a mixture of distrust and curiosity flickering between them. They had always been on opposing sides—Y/N, a dedicated member of the Armed Detective Agency, and Chuuya, a formidable executive of the Port Mafia. Their encounters had always been fraught with tension and conflict, but this was different. This was personal.

As they navigated the complexities of each other's powers, they began to notice subtle, inexplicable connections. Y/N could feel Chuuya's memories and emotions, his fierce determination, and his loyalty. Chuuya, in turn, experienced Y/N's gentle compassion, her unwavering resolve, and her deep connection to the world around her.

It was during a particularly tense moment—when Y/N, in Chuuya's body, struggled to control his ability—that the truth dawned on them. As she faltered, Chuuya instinctively reached out, his touch grounding her, stabilizing the overwhelming power within.

Their eyes met, and in that instant, they knew.

"We're soulmates," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with awe and disbelief.

Chuuya's eyes softened, a rare vulnerability breaking through his usual tough exterior. "Looks like it," he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Fate has a twisted sense of humor, huh?"

The realization brought a mix of emotions—shock, disbelief, and a strange sense of completion. Despite their differences, despite the chaotic circumstances, they felt an undeniable bond, a connection that transcended their individual selves.

But the weight of their affiliations hung heavy between them. Y/N looked away, her expression conflicted. "Chuuya, we're on different sides. This—this complicates everything."

Chuuya sighed, running a hand through his borrowed hair. "I know. But maybe this is fate's way of telling us there's more to this than just sides."

As the day wore on, they learned to trust each other implicitly, relying on the newfound understanding that being soulmates brought. By the time the sun set, casting a warm, golden glow over the city, they had grown closer than ever before, their shared experiences bridging the gap between their worlds.

When the world shifted once more, returning them to their original bodies, they stood side by side, the weight of their experience settling between them.

"So," Chuuya began, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "wanna come back to my apartment?"

Y/N laughed, her heart lighter than it had been in ages. "Absolutely. Not. I'm still with the Agency."

"And I'm still with the Mafia," Chuuya replied, his tone serious. "But maybe we can find a way to make this work. The universe has spoken, and I'm not in the habit of saying no to a beautiful woman."

She rolled her eyes, overwhelmed and exasperated. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Chuuya smirked, the usual confidence back in his stance. "I've been told. But seriously, Y/N, this is... something neither of us can ignore."

Y/N sighed, her mind racing. The idea of being soulmates with someone from the Port Mafia was ludicrous, yet the connection she felt with Chuuya was undeniable. "I guess we can figure it out as we go," she said, her voice softening. "Just... don't expect me to make it easy for you."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Chuuya replied, his eyes glinting with determination.

As they stood there, side by side, the lines between their worlds blurred just a little. It wouldn't be easy, and the path ahead was uncertain, but for the first time, they felt a flicker of hope. They were bound by something greater than their affiliations—something that defied logic and expectation.

And together, they were ready to face whatever came next.

108 notes · View notes

knockyasocksoff2022 · 7 months ago

Text

BSD Skillswap HCs

I'm going to write some one-shots for these later.

PORT MAFIA

MORI

Scared when Elise disappears

Wondering where the hell she went

Thinks he’s sick or has been poisoned

(because when his energy is drained it’s hard to keep her around)

Can suddenly feel all of his subordinated abilities.

CoNfUsEd

Then he realises that he had Fukuzawa’s ability

But wait, they’re the wrong ones

And then Chuuya comes to him ranting about how a sleezy mackerel did something to him

and it all makes sense

CHUUYA

I know that transferring a God from one vessel to another is prob hella complex

Just don’t think too hard about it

It’s the ~ magic ~ of ~ L O V E

falling from mid-air

No longer feeling the thrum of Arahabaki

Bro finally gets a break from the constant ache to cause destruction.

He takes off his gloves

But puts them right back on when he realises what that means

He doesn’t want to go around nullifying people’s abilities accidently

KAJII

Getting blown up by one of his bombs and it hurts him

But then he heals really quickly in a flurry of butterflies

Surprisingly, very calm

Does a quick scientific method to figure out what the hell happened

Scared for Akiko when he realises

because he does in fact have a crush on her

He worries she’ll get hurt or hurt someone else

He starts running to the Agency

AKUTAGAWA

Rashoumon goes in the middle of a fight

A fight with Atsushi, no less

Then suddenly he’s a tiger

He pAnIcS

He’s trying to hide the pAnIc

It’s not working

They’re both terrified

And trying they're very desperate best not to show the other that they are

They keep fighting

“Cuz damn if I don’t keep my promises

I said I’d fight you

So I will!”

Also, I’m extra mad at you for whatever you did!

“B-but I didn’t do anything!”

"DaMn JiNkO, you’re so incompetent you can’t even hold onto your own ability."

“Hey! We both switched, don't act like you’re better than me!”

“Think of it like Rashoumon . . . but in reverse. Byakko isn’t a gun or spear, but a massive shield!”

“You gave this . . . thing a name?”

“Yeah, so what? She may be an ability, but she deserves a name, just like Elise.”

TACHIHARA

He’s sparing with Gin when he suddenly flickers out of sight

He sees the snow but Gin doesn’t

He immediately recognises Tanizkai’s ability

“How could I forget it after he almost decapitated our entire organisation?”

But why tf would I have suddenly got Tanizaki’s ability

“And do I still have mine?”

Then he starts figuring it out

He uses it to his advantage during the sparring match

Because he figures I can’t solve this right now

so I might as well make the best of it

He thinks there’s a cool kind of power in knowing your invisible

“You can do basically anything you want!”

ARMED DETECTIVE AGENCY

FUKUZAWA

Gets jump scared when Elise appears in his office

So confused

She’s like “I’m yours now.”

He’s like “nO, you are NOT.”

“Of course I am, you do love Stupid Rintarou, don’t you?”

“Y-yes . . .? Normally I’d say so without question, but I have a bad feeling about where this is going.”

She explains what happened, because as an ability she has an understanding of it

He’s a little shaken

But he likes her so he becomes chill with it

He does know however that his employees won’t be chill with loosing their abilities

He hides Elise in his office with a colouring book he had bought for her

Constantly reminding himself that this is temporary

“I’m a grown man with employees working under me, I must remain calm”

He actually loves Elise, even if he doesn’t spoil her as visibly as Mori does

As soon as the ADA realises (yet the employees still haven’t realised who some of them have swapped with and what it means 😉) he’s like “I’ve got to call O- Mori-dono”

“Why?” They’re all immediately suspicious

“To let him know this is not in any way our doing of course.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

He and Mori are like “I was just about to call you!”

“Ougai, come get your feral child!”

“Yes, I’d like her back as much as you, but shockingly, we have larger problems.

He tells him that the PM members have the ADA members abilities

dun Dun DUN!!!

DAZAI

Knows what’s going on at once

He’s thrilled!

“I can fly!”

“I can jump off the roof and scare the crap out of Atsushi!”

“Oh wait, but now I can't jump to my death anymore, stupid automatic activation ability.”

But he’s always worried for Chuuya

b/c Chuuya is used to having his ability

He doesn’t want Chuuya to be hurt

He also thinks it’s funny as hell

Because he’s a little shit

He wants them to all get their original abilities back

But he FULLY intends to take advantage of this while he can

Chuuya calls him like “WTF did you do to me mackerel!”

Then Mori explains and Chuuya calls Dazai to rant about how he “can’t believe a piece of garbage like “shitty” Dazai is my soulmate!”

KUNIKIDA

After he sees everyone’s ability is messed up he tries to make something with his book but it doesn’t work

He wonders who he swapped with because he doesn't feel any different

He starts trying to do other abilities (reminds me of that once scene where he’s buy Atsushi’s bedside after the fight on the ship and he’s trying to show Atsushi that he’s calm and ready for anything and is doing martial arts to the air or whatever) and none of them work

Then he gives up and decides he should ask around if any of his underground sources know what’s going on

He’s trying to call it and the phone is doing stuff without him touching it

He’s like OHHHH

. . . shite

Goes to get check up on katai before he loses his mind of boredom and sadness without his computer skills

KATAI

He never uses paper so he doesn’t notice he’s gained a new ability

But he does notice that his computer has stopped listening to him

He’s confused and distraught

He thinks he’s lost the only quality of his that matters

But he’s far too emotional and lazy to inquire so he just starts to mope in depression

Luckily Kunikida is there within 30 minutes to “save” him

AKIKO

She doesn’t notice until she has to treat Tanizaki

b/c he stabbed himself by mistake when he magnetised a scissor to him

He explained it that he just dropped it

b/c he didn’t want to admit what happened b/c he was to freaked out

She starts dismembering him when and then realises😬😰😶

Oof size large

Tanizaki starts panicking and unintentionally flinging her metal tools everywhere, injuring both of them.

Yosano immediately knows he swapped with Tachihara but has no time to be amused

They speedrun like every ability to figure out who she swapped with

“Try levitating something!”

“Here touch Tanizaki, see if it makes him stop!”

In the end, it’s Kajii who comes to them because he likes Yosano and wants her to be safe.

So he shows up just in time and Yosano shows him how to heal her and Tanizaki.

ATSUSHI

Suddenly he’s no longer a tiger, but a human

And tendrils are coming out of his clothes

He’s scared because he can’t regenerate now

And he’s scared for Aku

b/c Aku doesn’t know how to defend himself using the tiger

He wants to stop fighting

But at the same time, he pushes to his highest potential (it makes him exhilarated, and maybe something else . . .) because he knows Aku will just regenerate

Aku’s teaching how to use Rashoumon while they’re fighting

“Not like that, idiot!”

“It requires finesse!”

“As base a creature as you doesn’t deserve her*!”

*rashoumon is a referred to with s female somewhere in the manga/light novels I think

“Slice with the edge, imbecile!”

“Don’t use your body weight, you brute! Let Rashoumon do it for you!”

“How can’t you grasp something so simple!”

“Stab, not slash, you stupid oaf! And send tendrils out remotely. You don’t have enough technical skill for that, weretiger. Your specialities lie in brute strength and maximum destruction. Use that! Don’t try and fight with your weakness, deliberately doing so sets you up for failure. Only a fool sets himself up for failure. Don’t be a fool, weretiger!”

They’re still arguing to cover their fear

Yeah, it’s really just them showing off how well they know each other

Eventually, the others find them.

KYOUKA

doesn’t notice at first

Then Kenji comes in and male blond Demon Snow is trailing behind him

He’s completely unaware

It’s so cute

Kyouka doesn't want to tell him

so she experimentally lifts Kuni’s desk

and when she can easily do so, Kenji’s like “Wow, you’re so strong Kyouka!”

She’s like “Yeah *_* We swapped abilities.”

He turns around and notices

He loves Demon Snow

Kyouka kind of wants to give it to him

Even though it’s the last piece of her mother, it still brings painful memories

He tells her she should keep it.

All smiles

“It was your Mum’s gift to YOU. You can use her to help others and make her your own. Just please, give her a chance, for me okay.”

127 notes · View notes