multifandom_nerd_101
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Summary
Dazai Osamu is in love with Nakahara Chuuya.
However, desire is not the problem.
It is everything else.
In another life, they might have been honest.
In this one, they are very good at lying in the same direction.
-- OR ---
1870s-80, Meiji era. Dazai is a painter and Chuuya is a poet. Right person, wrong time.
Bookmarked by multifandom_nerd_101
28 Jun 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
AHHHHHHHH
i cried so many times in the second half, and while I dont particular care for the ending(s), it is a phenomenal work -
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Summary
“Chuuya's rather worked up tonight, isn't he?”
“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed. Heat shot through him at the same time his face curled up in some defensive facsimile of disgust. Still clinging to a rescue rope of denial.
This wasn't something they did. They'd dance on the edge of it, play chicken and pull back, but verbalizing anything was anathema.
Through a phone line, though? Verbalizing was the only option.
Chuuya drunk-dials Dazai to complain about him after a long, shitty day.
For once, Dazai answers.
Bookmarked by multifandom_nerd_101
21 Jun 2026
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“My therapist is gonna hear all about this,” Chuuya grumbles.
“It’s truly wonderful,” Dazai grins, draping himself into the seat as if this is all some delightful coincidence, “to hear that you’re taking your mental health so seriously these days.”
Dazai props his chin in his palm, blinking at him with faux sincerity. “Is your therapist helping you with those deep-rooted anger issues of yours?”
Chuuya’s grip on his fork tightens. His knuckles whiten under the strain of keeping a semblance of composure.
“Oh yeah,” he deadpans, stabbing at the suspiciously blackened lump of something on his plate. “Just the other day, we made a breakthrough. Turns out, those stem from a piece of shit ex-partner who refuses to fuck off.”
Dazai grins, wide and unrepentant.
OR;
Chuuya and Dazai keep running into each other. It gets angsty, smutty, and downright ridiculous.
Of course it does.
It's Soukoku.
Bookmarked by multifandom_nerd_101
28 Oct 2025
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"Jesus. It’s like you physically can’t stop talking."
"Rude, chibi," Dazai hums, unbothered. "I can be quiet, you know."
"Yeah, sure," Chuuya deadpans, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "I bet you can."
Dazai’s eyes gleam with mischief. He stops walking for just a second, then speeds up to fall back into step beside Chuuya. "Bet, you say?"
"That’s not what I said." Chuuya doesn’t even look at him. "You’ve got selective hearing, huh? Maybe you should get that doctor of yours to check it out. Could be an underlying condition. If we’re lucky, it might even be fatal."
Dazai laughs, stepping ahead and turning to face him as they walk through the terminal. "No, no. You’re onto something here. I accept your challenge."
"What challenge?" Chuuya glares.
Dazai smirks. "Let’s make a bet. I bet I can go longer without talking to you than you can to me."
Bookmarked by multifandom_nerd_101
27 Oct 2025
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Summary
There are a lot of things that Dazai is yet to bear witness to. An elephant wearing a fez and doing the dabke, for example. Kunikida without that giant stick up his ass. A will to live.
These are all things that Dazai hasn't ruled out seeing yet, for who knows where the world will take him. The one thing, however, that he was almost positive he would never have to see, is Chuuya Nakahara getting shot.
It's a concept so implausible, that his first thought is to question if there is someone with an ability that is able to create a mirage and he is simply hallucinating.
[or; Chuuya gets shot. Dazai does not know how to handle this]