#i will write happy soukoku

[suegikuapologist]

I just feel like soukoku is bound to be written as a tragedy because I was going to write this one shot inspired in the lakes by taylor swift, which is a lovely song. and I thought "ok, I'm going to use a trope roulette to add something more to this". It gave me:

• friends to lovers!! ♡

• BETRAYAL

so the cute one I was going to write is a little tragic now

[calmlb]

Domestic skk where Chuuya gets home after a long day at work, only to find the apartment empty, with no Dazai in sight.

The lights are off, not a sound to be heard, but Chuuya can feel Dazai’s presence— some kind of sixth sense they’ve both been cursed with since they were 15.

Chuuya slowly removes his coat & shoes, letting his eyes rove over the empty kitchen & living room, till his eyes finally catch the top of a familiar head of mussed, brown waves.

Tension he didn’t realize he was holding releases at the sight, & Chuuya takes a deep breath before padding around the couch. It would do no good for his own stress to add to Dazai’s, if tonight was indeed one of those nights.

As Chuuya rounds the sofa, he finds pretty much what he expected. Dazai is curled up against the armrest, looking small despite his gangly limbs.

What Chuuya hadn’t expected was for Dazai to be fast asleep— soft breaths puffing against the expensive fabric of the armrest.

Chuuya blinks in disbelief, but can’t help the fond smile that steals across his face. Dazai always has such a hard time sleeping, so finding him like

this was a welcome surprise. Especially compared to the more somber situation that Chuuya was worried he’d be faced with.

Chuuya removes his hat & gloves, laying them aside as he crouches in front of the couch. He shamelessly studies his partner while he can’t be teased for it.

Dazai looks peaceful— cheeks rosy with sleep, & unfairly-long lashes dusting his faint spattering of freckles.

Those freckles felt like Chuuya’s little secret, because the only way to know they existed was if one got close enough to see.

And it was no secret that Dazai didn’t let people get that close.

Chuuya finds himself brushing a finger over those freckles, following the perfect slope of Dazai’s nose, tracing his high cheekbones down to the contour of his smooth jawline.

Chuuya pinches Dazai’s chin between his thumb & forefinger, tilting it at just the right angle to press a gentle kiss to Dazai’s forehead. He bites his lip to hold back a laugh at the way Dazai’s nose scrunches at the disturbance, but he really doesn’t want to wake the brunet. He obviously needs the sleep if he fell asleep here, still in his work clothes.

Why is Dazai out here? If he knew he was this tired, why not at least lie in bed?

Chuuya absently brushes Dazai’s bangs away from his eyes as he leans into the touch, releasing a contented sigh.

Oh. Chuuya’s eyes widen. He was waiting up for me.

Or, trying to, at least.

This time Chuuya doesn’t stop the warm chuckle from slipping past his lips. He presses another soft kiss to Dazai’s temple, then carefully scoops him into a princess hold. He carries his sleeping partner to their room, smiling as Dazai nuzzles his face into Chuuya’s neck.

His partner really is such a cat.

Chuuya sets Dazai down on the bed, careful not to wake him, & draws the blankets up under his chin, just the way Dazai likes it. He doesn’t bother getting him into comfier clothes— obviously, he was comfortable enough to fall asleep as he was.

Chuuya does change his own clothes, though, & brushes his teeth before turning off the light & slipping into bed next to Dazai.

He turns to wrap himself around Dazai from behind, but before he can, he finds himself with a face full of mackerel.

Soft hair tickles Chuuya’s chin as Dazai snuggles into him again— always seeking out the nearest heatsource.

“I thought you were asleep, you malingerer,” Chuuya scolds quietly.

“Shh, I am asleep,” Dazai whispers, nose digging into Chuuya’s breastbone as he tries to burrow into his partner’s chest.

Chuuya rolls his eyes, but he can hear the grogginess in Dazai’s voice that tells him he wasn’t faking it. He doesn’t fight the urge to bring a hand up to card through Dazai’s fluffy waves.

Dazai doesn’t grant him a response other than to press himself even closer to Chuuya, so that they’re practically melded together. Chuuya smiles, pressing one more, languid kiss to the crown of Dazai’s head— pausing to breathe him in— before closing his eyes & letting sleep overtake them both.

Chuuya version

[sableeira]

whoever edited that bsd official art to make it look like chuuya is holding onto dazai’s arm will be put on trial for irrevocably changing my brain chemistry and making me so much worse

the original and the edit in question. this artwork really makes me crave a mid to late 19th century historical au where Chuuya is a swordsman struggling with changes to his job due to the meiji restoration and with Dazai as a detective/private investigator who hires Chuuya as his bodyguard when a seemingly harmless investigation turns dangerous. they kind of hate each other (as per usual) but Chuuya needs the job and Dazai, while he proclaims to dislike chuuya, is also very smitten with chuuya’s fighting style and temper (as per usual).

[jay72664]

Insomnia

TW: Suggestive. (Dazai’s in it, of course it’s suggestive.)

Dazai trailed patterns with his finger on the skin of Chuuya’s stomach, unable to fall asleep.

Chuuya turns to face him.

“Can’t sleep either, huh?” Dazai asks.

The ginger shakes his head in reply. “What’s keeping you up?”

Dazai shrugs. “Hell if I know, you?”

“Don’t know either, just can’t sleep.”

They laid in silence for a bit, before Dazai spoke up again.

“You know what would tire us both out?” He asks suggestively, his hand trailing to Chuuya’s waist band.

Chuuya slaps his hand away. “I’m already tired I just can’t sleep.”

The detective sighs melodramatically. “Chibi is no fun.”

The ginger rolls his eyes at his husband’s antics.

“Can’t I at least get a kiss?” He pleads, pulling Chuuya closer by the waist.

“God, you are so clingy, fine.”

Chuuya presses a kiss to the brunettes lips, and Dazai kisses him back with fervor.

Chuuya attempts to pull away, but Dazai’s hand had moved to the back of his hand to keep him there, and though if he really wanted to, he could out strengthen his lanky husband, he found himself wanting to stay like this, if only for a moment longer.

Dazai did eventually pull away, having to breath, though more so just not wanting to suffocate his husband than caring about his own lungs.

“Satisfied?” The shorter man teases, already knowing the answer.

“No, but it’ll do for now.” He moves to nuzzle his face against the crook of Chuuya’s neck.

The blue eyed man pressed a kiss to the top of his husband’s head, threading his fingers through his hair.

“I love you.” He says quietly, knowing full well they’d both still be awake for a while yet.

Dazai hums. “I love you too.”

[flamie-42]

I want out…

Soukoku (Dazai x Chuuya) - alternate Beast AU

Tags: slight angst with a happy ending, NO MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH (I promise), fluff, cannon typical suicidal ideation from Dazai, nothing more graphic than the cannon, Dazai and Chuuya being stupidly in love

Content Warnings: slight gore, suicidal ideation, typical Dazai CWs,

A little skk mini fic, while I gain the mental capacity to update my actual fics

Dazai is tired.

Every morning he wakes up. Goes to a meeting. The meeting is boring. Someone probably died. Or supplies aren’t getting past law enforcement. Or someone is mad at him. He can’t really bring himself to himself to care.

No one has noticed this shift in his attitude, to them the boss has always been a cold piece of shit with no emotion. “The demon prodigy is as cold as ice” he hears whispers in the halls of the Port Mafia building. He doesn’t bother to try and change his way, they are mostly correct.

Mostly…

Osamu sighs as he opens the door to his penthouse suite. He would have rather just slept in his office if it wasn’t for a certain … someone.

“Osamu you’re fucking late!” A familiar voice calls from the kitchen. He sighs as the cold mask he is so tired of falls off in the comfort of the warm inviting suite.

Most of the Mafia assumes that a man like him lives in a dark cold flat. That he only sleeps and eats there. Little do they know that the lively ginger that remains at his side most days lives there too, brining his noise and color.

A flurry of reds envelops him as he sheds his coat and tight suite shirt. The smell of spice and wine takes over his senses as he melts into Chuuya’s arms.

“Long day, huh” his partner only slightly mocks him as he leads the exhausted man into the kitchen.

“I don’t know how you’re not, Chuu” osamu sighs as he collapses onto a stool to watch his love cook. Long ago Chuuya had taken on the job of cooking for the both of them. One, so Dazai would eat and two, so he wouldn’t burn down their place. Now he was cooking up some ramen for the two of them.

“I’m not running the whole operation, I just gotta follow orders” Chuuya winks at his boss as he serves up the food.

“We both know how much you *love* following orders” Osamu smirks at his partner as the redhead laughs deeply.

Later as they lay in bed, limbs tangled together, Osamu sighs deeply and quietly states,

“I want out, Chuu”

It wasn’t a question, just a soft firm statement shared between lovers.

“You sure?” The sleepy response came from the redhead.

“Absolutely”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

Chuuya pulled him closer and softly kissed his hair, knowing he wouldn’t be able to do that for a long time.

Atsushi walked into his Boss’ office for the early morning meeting they had scheduled. The office was empty but Atsushi assumed the man would be in soon enough. After a few minutes without the dark haired man arriving he noticed a letter on the desk with his name scrawled on the front.

Atsushi,

I’m sorry it had to happen like this, you know how the mafia is about deserters. Hirotsu will take over in my stead and Kouyou and you will be his seconds.

You’ll do great.

The weretiger looked terrified at his partner who was standing quietly behind him. A commotion drew their attention to the large windows in time to see a flash of black and red falling.

Reaching the ground floor they were in time to hear the rumble of gravity breaking concrete. This only confirmed the suspicions of the two. As they walked out the front doors of the Mori Corp. they were just in time to see the red headed exectutive collapse the sidewalk.

It had been a long suspicion that the boss and his prized executive had a relationship more intimate than the partners they claims to be, though no one dared voice those rumors. Both members of Double Black were ruthless and violent if provoked. Though in most eyes the display in front of their eyes confirmed how close the duo was.

Red markings creep onto Chuuyas skin as he feels the weight of gravity bend to his will. The concrete he stands on cracks and buckles. Rebar screeches and snaps as immeasurable stress is placed upon it. His eyes blur as he sees the body beneath him, laying much too still.

The body is mangled and bloody, its dark coat crumpled as it hit the pavement. But what hit Chuuya the hardest was the scarf. The blood red scarf that Chuuya has given Dazai so many years ago.

It was a cold night when Chuuya had gotten a call from his new partner to meet on the roof of the skyscraper the Mafia called home.

On that rooftop the two of them had made a pact to remain loyal to eachother, above all else.

Dazai had given him the leather choker that still lay on his neck. A “collar for my faithful dog” the brunette had said. And despite chuuyas chagrin he had been a faithful dog to Dazai since that day. Not that Osamu had made him do anything he would have protested (much) to.

In return Chuuya had given him a blood red scarf that adorned his bandaged neck since that day. “A reminder of your job” Chuuya had said bitterly, referring to Corruption. But since that day Osamu had always been there to bring him back.

The concrete finally collapsed and Chuuya floated down with the rubble. Each progressive story of the underground the gravity punched through. Corruption had fully taken over Chuuyas body and there was no stopping it…not anymore.

He knew what people would say, the rumors he had confirmed by this but he didn’t care anymore. There was no point to continue like this, without him there.

His consciousness fell away until there was only red, Arahabiki fully taking over his mind and body until Chuuya was shut in a little corner.

He sat in an empty room, looking through his own eyes and watching the chaos that the god inside him was inflicting on the world. It appeared Arahabiki wanted to take both him and the body beneath them to a deep grave where no one would find them.

We must be deep at this point

I wonder how much father we need to go

Arahabiki will find him

The windows closed and the room fell dark around him. Chuuya laid down and closed his eyes, simply waiting.

And waiting…

And waiting…

And finally a soft blue light enveloped the room. It was a comforting, familiar light. He had felt it many times before… and at this point it felt like home.

Chuuya opened his eyes, his real eyes, and saw a pair of bright brown eyes waiting for him. A hand held his cheek tenderly.

“Did you have a fun time princess” Osamu’s mocking tone flowed into his ears.

“You asshole, you put your scarf on the body” Chuuyas bit back, his voice rasping.

“I thought it would sell it more” Osamu had now picked up Chuuya, who was in no condition to walk, and began to walk towards a tunnel that was poking into the hole they stood in.

“Asshole” came a quiet response from the redhead.

“Sorry Chuu” he whispered back, he knew Chuuya had a much harder role in this to play but he did it beautifully as always.

Chuuya awoke in a soft, clean smelling bed. He stretched, feeling his bones pop as he looked around him.

Dazai sat a few feet away, drinking something and looking out the open door of a shipping container. Beyond him was the vast blue ocean, now a new shade of teal that he knew belonged to the tropics of Oceania.

He stood up and stumbled over to his partner who looked up at him, a happy smile plastered on his face. Chuuya had waited years to see that smile grace his lips again.

“Welcome to our new life, love” Osamu whispered as he pressed a kiss to Chuuya’s lips.

“Thank goodness it worked” Chuuya slumped into his arms, body still exhausted.

“You should have seen the explosion! It was magnificent” Osamu smiled as he wrapped his arms around the redhead. “Could have fooled me that Arahabiki imploded deep underground”

So everything had gone to plan

The mafia would think them dead and they could live out their lives, far away from the violence and destruction.

Just them on an island Dazai had bought years ago and spent days untying it from both their names.

“I think you should go blonde” Chuuya mumbled, combing his fingers through his partners hair

“Only if you go brunette” came the laughing response

[anticidic]

One evening I came across a house that had no one inside it, not even a mouse.

I thought it strange and said to myself, “How peculiar, surely someone must wander its halls?”

And so I called and my voice echoed,

…that’s when the moan of a ghost bellowed.

"Every relationship has burdens they have to overcome. Together."

"But our burdens seem to be more substantial."

ONE DAY I WILL RETURN TO YOUR SIDE

Ghost!Dazai and human!Chuuya AU ficlet. 1,074 words. Character death with a happy ending.

"That's what makes them even more worth fighting for," Chuuya said.

He fixed his hair in the mirror and tucked a lock behind his ear. Behind stood Dazai by the open door, his arms at his chest as he leaned against the wall. Watching. As he always did. When Chuuya looked away and fixed his bowtie for the third time, Dazai faded from sight.

It was quiet. No sound, no movement. The headlights of oncoming cars from down below in the district like tiny ants navigating the colony sped past.

Then he reappeared.

Chuuya frowned and shifted his attention away from his reflection. Dazai's form flickered rapidly until he was no more in the blink of an eye and all that was left were footsteps down the hall. A door opening. And shutting. Wind blew through his clothes and he felt detached from his surroundings. Inside the building—a cold memory hung.

As the days grew shorter and the nights longer, Dazai struggled to maintain his form for more than a few hours at a time before he had to step away. Their makeshift constellations before bed included Chuuya sipping from his wine and a blanket draped over his shoulders, on the couch. Across from him with ghostly legs draped across his lap was Dazai leaning back and propped up by physical cushions he had no use for. He could phase right through them if he wished. Chuuya would go on about his day, about the stray animal he fed, and about the elderly neighbor, Mr. Kishimura, whom he checked in on after not seeing the man on his early morning walk with cane in hand. Dazai would listen with a smile and when he spoke, he spoke with a whispering echo that wrapped around the room and filtered through the halls like a memory fading, fading away.

The most fragile voice Chuuya had ever heard. Dazai was just holding onto reality enough to be there. With him.

“I’ve never been more restless than the day you moved in,” Dazai paused and crossed the room. He placed a hand upon Chuuya’s cheek and cupped it tenderly. “I fear I’ll never be at peace now. Each day gets harder and I’m not long for this world anymore. I should’ve been gone when I took my last breath.” He sighed. “Does the longing ever stop?”

The words rang hollow. Chuuya stood there in thought and nodded with the tiniest smile.

A feeling of tenderness washed over him—a longing even, perhaps. And gentle tragedy. He gazed at the dresser, recently dusted with several framed photos propped up on it. Chuuya smiled in all of them, alone. He was never centered in the photo, always off to the side. His friends could not understand what Chuuya needed room for, and why he’d ask them to take several steps back to make sure they captured everything and everyone in the photo, but they relented for him. He never looked happier than in those fleeting moments in time: absolutely, completely alone.

“It’ll end. We know how this ends.”

Their story would come to an end. He had maybe one or two more chapters left in him. Dazai would go on forever. Chuuya would not.

At half-past midnight when his eyes closed, the blanket fell from his shoulders and rested atop his body. The lights turned off, and the remote was placed on the table in front of the television. A chill overcame him against his skin. A caress not of this world, but still entirely loving and careful like he was the one who would break first and not Dazai.

Maybe it did break him. Knowing they were together, had been together, and could forever be together but not actually experiencing what it was like to be in one another’s arms. Chuuya had not even photos of them. The first anniversary. The second one that came and went with him in bed bundled against the harsh winter outside and nursing a hot cup of tea. He lay across one side of the bed with the other half reserved for Dazai. The third was spent at work with Dazai using the last of his energy to follow after Chuuya for the day. They sat in a dim restaurant that night with smooth jazz playing in the background and a lit candelabra on the table in front of them. Chuuya would talk, talk, talk the night away and look as if he was holding a conversation entirely by himself to the onlookers. But Dazai was there as he always was. Listening. Even wearing a suit to match Chuuya’s own.

Chuuya coughed with a wheeze.

Days turned into months which became years on end spanning decades. His hair dulled. And he grew weaker by the day.

He lay in bed with the lights on and the television softly playing in the background, head turned toward the balcony. The same one he spent chilly evenings out on with a cigarette between fingers laughing to himself whenever Dazai’s words reached his ears.

Over the howl of the wind and so soft only he could hear, Dazai whispered: “I love you.”

Those same words would find themselves stuck to the walls and lost to time. One living memory would become two.

Chuuya closed his eyes for the last time and drew his final breath. Everything went dark and silent. Peaceful.

Then he awakened to Dazai looking down at him with the softest smile. On the verge of tears? Or was Chuuya imagining it? He reached out and touched Dazai’s cheek. Warm. A sunny spring day after the cold rain.

A startling realization hit him.

He could feel Dazai for the first time. They were back in his apartment with the lights off and Dazai sat crisscrossed on the bed beside him.

“Rest, Chuuya,” Dazai said. He lay on his side facing Chuuya, never taking his eyes off him. “We overcame our burdens. You were right.”

“You waited all these years to be with me?”

“And I loved every minute of it spent with you.” A pause, fabric rustled as Dazai pulled the covers over them and he draped an arm across Chuuya’s chest. His cheek rested on a pillow, and he had the most adoring look in those eyes Chuuya had seen since…since the earliest days of their relationship when it was still little but a budding flower.

“—And I’ll love our endless future.”

[that-was-anticlimactic]

all of my dreams are in color

His hand is the brush now, his blood the ink. He drags his injury across the canvas, spreading it haphazardly across the weretiger’s scattered limbs.

It stings, not a lot, but enough, and for a moment, Ryuunosuke thinks he feels human again.

Yes, blood is a fine substitute for ink.

[or, akutagawa paints the weretiger and reflects]

🖌2,400 words | akutagawa-centric, sskk🖌

🖌a birthday present for @ryuvnosuke <3🖌

[evilkaeya]

Hi! I’m not sure how long ago you posted the ADA Chuuya head canon post, or if you’ve lost interest, but in the tags you mentioned you have more to say but felt it was too long! I’d love to hear more if you want

Help I'm only seeing this now I'm sorry 😭 anyways more ada Chuuya hcs you say?? Hold my beer

> First time Chuuya uses corruption in front of the agency a part of his mind thinks, "That's it. They're going to be terrified of me now," only to be proven very wrong when he wakes up. The first person he sees is Dazai, which isn't new, Dazai has always been there after he woke up. Holding a mirror most of the time and saying, "Look what I drew on your face while you slept."

Then he blinks awake fully and he's surrounded by worried faces. Not scared, not curious but worried and when he sits up, they change to relief. Chuuya isn't sure what to do with the sudden burst of warmth spreading in his chest.

Atsushi is the first to leap at him. He hugs him, telling him how worried he has been. Kunikida pulls him away (you're crushing his ribs Atsushi) and sits next to Chuuya on the bed, patting his shoulder. Fukuzawa simply puts a hand on his head and Chuuya almost breaks down. He takes a pillow from behind him and buries his face into it. (This is how he manages his emotions. Everyone is used to it)

Ranpo, his partner, remains silently glaring at Chuuya until their eyes meet and Ranpo pinches his cheek. Hard. "Don't do that again!" He yells and says how he knew Chuuya had a bigger weapon up his sleeve that could cost his life but he didn't know it would be like this. Chuuya promises that he'd never use corruption unless Dazai is around.

For those who don't know why Ranpo is Chuuya's partner, here.

> For the 2-3 days he stays at the hospital, Kyouka leaves her bunny plushie with him so that he won't feel lonely. Yosano comes to check up on him the most, asking him if he feels okay. Chuuya tells her that he's used to it. He didn't get treatment like this in pm and he survived just fine. Sad eyes stare at him. "You shouldn't be used to it. You were a kid." Chuuya is once again filled with painful emotions he doesn't know what to do with.

> Moving on from corruption, Yosano and Chuuya are best friends !! If you go to the beauty salon Sunday morning you'll see them getting manicure and pedicure together, face masks on their face as they gossip about the latest rumors.

> Tanizaki oftens offers Chuuya his hairclips when he sees him struggling with his hair while working.

> Friday night is agency movie night !! They all gather at Chuuya's place to watch a movie together. They never let Dazai pick the movie despite how much he whines and cries.

> The movie nights always end in a cuddle pile. No matter how hard he tries, Chuuya can't hide the smile on his face when he wakes up to everyone's sleeping face the morning after. He carefully gets out of bed and goes to make breakfast for everyone. Dazai joins him minutes later. He hugs him from behind, and they share a little moment together in comforting silence.

> Basically Chuuya is surrounded by the love of his family all day every day and he's happier than he's ever been.

[sulliedsorrow]

every year on his birthday dazai sends him a wine bottle full of grape juice. he changes the labels and puts it somewhere where chuuya would see it immediately. attached is always some generic happy birthday card. chuuya drank it without thinking the first time and immediately spat it out because, surprise surprise, grape juice tastes like absolute shit. he immediately found dazai and poured the rest of it over his head. before his next birthday he changes his locks, but there it is on the 29th of april, nestled in a decorative basket full of fake flowers. he doesn’t bother the third year.

two minutes past midnight on the day of his 19th birthday, his doorbell rings. on the welcome mat is a familiar basket, and that godforsaken bottle of juice.

chuuya throws it at the wall and is silent as it shatters. he watches the purple seep into the wallpaper, the liquid dripping into the carpet. it’s weeks before the smell dissipates.

on his 20th he's almost expecting it. two minutes past midnight, a bell ringing, a bottle on his mat. he puts it in the fridge and doesn't touch it for months.

for his 21st he's prepared. he hides at the end of the hallway by the corner, watching and waiting. midnight comes. two minutes pass, then ten, then fifteen. at half past he gives up and enters his apartment again, only to find the basket sitting innocently on his couch.

his legs shake as he walks to it, and he startles when he sees a nondescript white card tied to the neck of the bottle. on it is written "always so predictable chuuya" with a crude smiley face drawn beneath the text.

chuuya breathes in deeply. he wants to scream, wants to break something, wants to smash the bottle and every bottle in his cellar and rip off the arms of his couch and tear down the plaster in his wall and shake dazai and ask him why.

instead, he goes to the fridge, and places the bottle next to the first. he doesn’t leave his apartment that day.

[starcollectorsilas]

CRYING AND SCREAMING...

10k hits??? I'm going to actually explode

This is my second fic to get this popular, but it took months after finishing it for the blonde dazai au to get anywhere near this

Considering the soulmate au is still ongoing, this is absolutely insane

I'm so grateful to everyone who's been reading, this really did start off as a self indulgent idea that I wasn't sure I was ever going to follow through with and now I have actual friends so :D crazy what fanfic can get you huh

I don't know if this is actually as big of a deal as I'm making it, but I'm so happy and so glad that people have been liking it as much as they have

[kyouka-supremacy]

One very common trope in fics I really can't seem to vibe with is Atsushi and Akutagawa becoming full time partners / regularly carrying through missions together. I mean, having very very different work ethics that are wholly irreconcilable except for when absolutely extraordinary circumstances occur is one of the greatest charms of the ship for me! Atsushi and Akutagawa being so different in how they work and how they get the job done is a great appeal of their dynamic; most importantly, it makes the few situations when out of necessity they're pushed to join forces feel all the more special and impactful. I want Atsushi to collaborate with Akutagawa, to wear Rashomon, being an extraordinary and meaningful event and not just another Thursday‚ you know what I mean? I want Atsushi to go home and slide his back against the door, heart going doki doki as he thinks back at it.

Besides, in the end it's just so hard to believe they'd have this many joined missions– the pm is a criminal organization, the ada is a law enforcement organization, how many shared goals can they have? There's only this much “new ability user organization that just landed in Yokohama and that poses a threat for both organizations”. And I feel like something people happen to mistake a lot is that truce isn't equivalent to regular collaboration. Like, not even close. Now that I think about it, I suppose there's also a component to it in the fact that it bugs me to think of Akutagawa working in collaboration with the ada- that is, working under Dazai again, as the picture is most commonly depicted. That man needs to be free, c'mon, let him be. Give him a break. Same goes for Atsushi, like, there's a point about him of being repulsed by Akutagawa just because he's mafia and he kills people. I don't think he'd be that willing to collaborate with the pm (as much as he loves Akutagawa. and he does), and honestly I don't think the ada would ask it of him that often, either, unless the world is literally about to end like what happens in the manga. If the ada really had to mingle with the pm, they'd probably ask Dazai, for a lot of reasons spanning from him knowing the pm intimately to him being their most cunning - and thus hard to deceive - agent.

[zukkaoru]

preview of the fic i wrote for @skkangstzine 🥀❤️‍🩹

if you want the full fic + an assortment of other wonderful skk angst, pre-orders are open now until may 5th!!

you can grab your copy here: https://skkangstzine.bigcartel.com/

[calmlb]

Domestic skk where Dazai gets home later than usual from the agency. It’s not uncommon for him to arrive home after Chuuya when he was working a case, but it definitely wasn’t the norm.

As Dazai slipped off his shoes and coat, he listened for any sounds that may indicate where Chuuya was.

Even though he was pretty sure he already knew.

He padded towards their bedroom and stopped with his hand on the knob. He pressed his ear to the door, listening for familiar, soft snores, but not hearing any.

He quietly slipped into the room, unsurprised to see that the lamp was still on, but not expecting to see Chuuya’s eyes closed.

The redhead was sitting up against the headboard, arms crossed and eyes closed. There was a poetry book on his lap, still open to where he’d been reading.

Dazai felt that fond smile he could never seem to mask play at his lips, and walked closer.

The light of the lamp cast shadows that accentuated the sharp angles of Chuuya’s face. His brown lashes brushed against his strong cheekbones, and a sun-kissed bronze was spread across his upturned nose.

Chuuya was all sharp edges with an unrefined personality. And that’s just how Dazai liked him.

That crudeness that had so grated on his nerves when they first met. That crassness that couldn’t be dulled by nice clothes or Ane-san’s influence.

Chuuya was unapologetically Chuuya— untamable.

Dazai watched as his partner’s brows pinched, and his bow-shaped lips twitched downward before parting.

“What’re you staring at, shitty Dazai?”

Dazai’s smile widened. “Just wondering how long you’re going to keep feigning sleep,” he hummed as he turned away to change into his pajamas.

“Wasn’t sleeping,” Chuuya grumbled, one eye peeking open as Dazai slipped into bed and curled up next to his leg.

Dazai nuzzled into Chuuya’s toned thigh, releasing a contented hum as Chuuya’s hand started carding through his hair.

He felt the rhythmic shift of Chuuya’s body in time with his breathing, and let himself relax knowing he was safe. Secure. Cared for.

Because Chuuya wasn’t all sharp edges. Deep down, there was a layer of kindness to him. Deep enough that it wasn’t immediately apparent.

Deep because it’s part of the foundation of who Chuuya is.

Dazai considers himself one of the lucky ones, getting to witness this kindness firsthand.

Chuuya always waited up for him, no matter how tired he was, or how long of a day he’d had. Some instinct to make sure every member of his pack was accounted for— probably leftover from the sheep.

My loyal dog.

Dazai hid his smile in the fabric of Chuuya’s pajama pants.

“Oi. I can feel you smirking, bastard.” Chuuya stopped his hand to pull on Dazai’s dark waves.

Dazai whined in protest. “Chuuya’s so mean to me.”

Chuuya scoffed, voice rough with the need for sleep. “Right, so mean that I even made you crab for dinner.” He slid down the headboard to lay on his pillow. This way, he was nose to nose with Dazai— hot, toothpaste-fresh breath fanning Dazai’s face and strawberry-blond curls falling into his face. “How awful.”

Dazai lifted a hand to brush the hair out of Chuuya’s eyes, gently tucking it behind his ear. “How awful,” he agreed. “Makes me want to die.”

Those piercing blue eyes stared back at him. “I’ll be the one to kill you. Shitty Dazai.” Chuuya’s threat was punctuated by a long yawn.

Dazai tutted. “Sleepy Chibi.” He grabbed Chuuya’s hand and started massaging soft circles into his palm. Just the way he knew Chuuya loved.

Sure enough, Chuuya let out a content sigh as the last bit of tension seeped out of his body.

“S’nice,” he mumbled as he started drifting off. Dazai merely hummed.

“Such strong hands that carry so much,” he whispered, bringing Chuuya’s knuckles to his face & pressing his lips against them tenderly. “Let me hold this for you.”

Chuuya’s breath evened out, and soft snores filled the space between them. Night after night, that snoring had been Dazai’s white noise, and he bit his lip to restrain the sudden impulse to pinch his partner’s cheeks in an act of cuteness aggression.

Instead, he snuggled up close to the redhead, burying his face in the crook of Chuuya’s neck.

Dazai reached over and turned off the lamp, feeling his heart swell when Chuuya nuzzled his face into Dazai’s hair. He pressed a kiss to his jugular notch, then let the soothing cadence of Chuuya’s snores lull him to sleep.

Dazai version

[tenfluenza]

i wrote a soukoku fic yay go check it out

[soukokumychildren]

Happy 4th!!

Legit nobody asked but I'm a proud American, god damnit. Have a short-ass write based on this shit! Enjoy y'all!

Poe was laughing like a madman, running away from the fuse lit on a Roman fountain flare, stopping short next to Ranpo. Soon flicks of ember began to dissolve, sounding like firecrackers before they bled away into a fountain of sparks, the very definition of the opposite of a waterfall. It repeated the cycle from throwing handfuls of sparks like a flower petals for a bridesmaid to the constant waterfall of sparks.

Soon it came to an end, with the fire dying out. Chuuya barked out in laughter. “Hell yeah, they’re good ones! Give Ranpo these.” In tandem to his comment, he gave Poe a handful of what could have appeared to be cherries, except they had a sandy quality to them, and the end were the green fuse strings. “Tell him to throw ‘em as soon as he lights em.” Chuuya aimed his attention back to the truck full of firework supplies, Dazai picking and choosing which ones to fire off next. Poe nodded wordlessly, jogging lightly over to Ranpo. “U-use these, Ranpo-kun!” He held out his palms with the bag of these cherry-like firecrackers. Or maybe gumdrops. “Oooh?” “Light them and throw them, Chuuya-San instructed.” Poe said stiffly, trying not to stammer in his speech. With a shrug, Ranpo did as he was told, setting the fuse alight, and throwing it. It made a cartwheel of flame, popping around with sparks before it burst into a series of green and white hues. “Oh! Oh! Oh this is so cool!!” Ranpo said excitedly, lighting and throwing a few more.

“Yo! Bitches!” Chuuya was running off from a white tube with sparks disappearing into its center. He flapped his wings to assist in his escape. “Fire in the hole!” He hollered.

Immediately a bang followed a tendril of ember that spiraled into the sky, erupting into a shower of flames with purple and gold ends, tapering off until they dissipated, before they exploded into a series of golden little fireworks like dandelions. “Oh hell yeah! That fucked hard!” Chuuya cawed. Poe stared up in admiration while Ranpo, surprisingly, gaped at the display. “Wanna have the honors?” Chuuya asked, now afloat while his legs crossed, reaching down to Poe, and handing him a bulbous creation, a series of balls wrapped in colorful aluminum in a straight line with a string fuse at the top. “T-that’d be splendid.” Poe looked to Ranpo for a fleeting moment, blushing furiously when his boyfriend made eye contact. Immediately his hand ruffled his Hawaiian shirt, yelping and falling forward to the white tube-like contraption. “Can I try?” Ranpo asked, grabby hands towards the firework in Poe’s hand. Poe babbled, flustered. “W-well erm—be responsible, please—“ Ranpo snatched the thing out of his boyfriends hands, running to the tube and having held a lighter in hand—wait, when did he snatch that from Poe? Oh gosh—

Ranpo lit one, excited, and Chuuya suddenly shot by, flapping his wings to take him away. “GET DOWN!” He shrieked, shoving his wing with Ranpo and himself down. Poe and Dazai covered their heads— The firework tube malfunctioned, and burst into a shower of colorful sparks, but following was an explosion of piercing hot rocks, sailing in every direction. Chuuya hissed as some bounced off his hardening feathers, swearing colorfully. Eventually Poe and Dazai resurfaced. “Everyone okay?” Dazai asked, checking everyone’s conditions. Luckily everyone came out unscathed. "Jesus Christ, what the fuck happened?" Chuuya hopped over, bending at the knee and keeping his wings tucked, holding them away from his body as he inspected the tube. Ranpo sat up, blinking and shaking his head. "Ooh, wow. I almost blew my head off. The President wouldn't have been happy about that." "Looks like it was just a flawed fuse." Dazai murmured, sliding beside Chuuya while Poe jogged to Ranpo. "A-are you okay Ranpo?" "I'm fine," Ranpo replied with a small grin. "That was…kinda cool! I wanna do that again this time!" Chuuya scoffed. "Yeah, sure. Next time, try not to blow our heads off, 'kay? I ain't getting in trouble for you."

[c4sen]

BSD 109 SPOILERS

for what is a monster, if not greedy?

a guilty pleasure. death can be peaceful. but would you be able to rest? surely, you knew. no, surely, you know.