acuteguwu
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Chuuya didn’t want a husband. She wanted Dazai. Her companion, her protector, her guard, her friend. She couldn’t ever imagine loving anyone else, having anyone else so close by her side. The mere thought disgusted her.
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- Part 5 of femskk week 2026! <3
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“How old are you, Dazai?”
Dazai hesitates for a little bit before answering, swaying lightly from foot to foot. “I… Well… Twenty-two.” So Chuuya thought. “How old are you?”
She sets her cup, almost untouched, back on the countertop. “Twice your age.”
Series
- Part 4 of femskk week 2026! <3
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Chuuya is standing there, still in her tiny dress, hugging herself with both arms. She is sober, she has gorgeous hair, and Dazai wants to do unspeakable things to her in bed.
But, first and foremost, she wants to make sure that she’s not cold.
Series
- Part 3 of femskk week 2026! <3
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Until her world turns upside down – from shelves of sugary treats to endless scrolls of sheet music, each one somehow spelling the name she loathes in different alphabets, writing systems, and fonts. And all the melodies those lines make up are unlistenable, a siren song in Chuuya’s ears.
Her.
Series
- Part 2 of femskk week 2026! <3
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Dazai barely has the will to deny herself – especially in the wake of Chuuya’s strange, unpredictable longing, the way she holds both of her freckled palms against the locker’s door, like a pickpocket caught red-handed, and from Dazai, she can steal anything she wants.
She already did.
Series
- Part 1 of femskk week 2026! <3
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writing for the femskk week 2026 organised by my dearest chuusray
- Words:
- 19,601
- Works:
- 5
- Bookmarks:
- 3
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She almost doesn't see her at first; she hadn't wanted to, not here and not tonight, not her, but the heart is a compass pointing north and Dazai's had already given a name to the vessel of her true home. Years and years ago, back when it mattered. Back when it might've made a difference to weave her longing into words and words into sentences, even a sorry excuse would've been better, but to no avail.
Reluctant, Dazai steps into the cobblestone path that leads to a small pagoda at the very center of her make-believe garden, one of many meaningless wedding gifts, and the splotch of fiery red becomes a shape Dazai knows like the back of her hand, all the softness and all the hard edges. She used to know her, Nakahara Chuuya, the subject of dreams as turbulent as they are exquisite; a cherry liquor of memories to drown in and then some.
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Chuuya turns back to the mirror, ready to see the mess that she must look like in front of Dazai. Instead, she sees Dazai's hands moving in slow circles against the black lace barely covering her chest. She sees the way Dazai's hands are careful with her, holding her with an authority that screams 'mine.' Long, manicured fingers move agonizingly slow across her most sensitive points.
or: chuuya goes shopping for bras with dazai (fem!skk)
written for FemSKK Week 2026!
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how we're ending (our last dance together) by antliiae
Fandoms: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs
05 Sep 2025
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“You won’t try to kill yourself again. Even if your mind screams at you, you won’t be able to. Your body won’t cooperate. You won’t be able to hurt yourself or purposely let others hurt you. You won’t die as long as you desire death or unless I personally let you."
Dazai’s breath hitched, and his eyes widened in disbelief. “No, you can’t—”
Then he felt it—something like a subtle shift somewhere inside him. He couldn’t pinpoint where the sensation started or ended, but it was there. And just as quickly as it happened, it went away, as if it had already sealed itself in him, became a part of him.
“What did you just do to me?” he asked, the words barely making it past his throat, more accusation than question.
“Saved you. You’ll probably hate me for it, but that’s what it was.”
or, Vampire!Chuuya finds Dazai on the verge of death, and uses mind compulsion to make him unable to try to end his life ever again. After that, he disappears, leaving Dazai alone for two years of nothing but hatred and resentment toward the vampire who violated his will and trapped him in the pathetic existence people call life. Until, when Chuuya’s the one in need of help, their paths cross again.
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When Osamu was born, it was snowing.
Everyone looked up at the sky and stared, dumbfounded, all of them asking themselves the same question: How could it snow in the middle of June?
OR: Dazai Osamu and birthdays
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It isn't a coincidence that Chuuya arrives in Yokohama on a spring warmed Wednesday, a crick in his neck and three double espressos pumping his heart into a well acquainted overdrive. It isn't arbitrary; it isn't the work of randomized actions what lead him to the dungeons, the glistening honey pot clear as a marble, too clear and much too perfect for it to be unpracticed. Unexpected. The soles of his shoes echo against the walls as he descends the stairs, one at a time; whistling a tune to settle frayed nerves, for even if Chuuya doesn't believe in coincidences, nothing pertaining to the realm of Dazai Osamu can ever be a good omen.
>> in which chuuya realizes his chapter with dazai is still being written.