Poor Dazai...

To the stray dogs. 🥃

To a new year, everyone. I hope you'll all still be here with me in the years to come.

-Nix Nephili 🌙

i cannot emphasize how necessary it is to have a buddy to participate in fandom with. completely elevated experience. don't have a buddy? find someone you like and message them and be their friend. gush over every sketch and drabble and insane headcanon they have. live life to the fullest.

bsd x tarot major arcana 💌 (unfortunately, only three of them for now)

i really needed happy skk :3c Happy holidays to ya'll~!! ♡

my comfort

sskk are winning but at what price

Vampfemskk, who cheered?

florist sigma i love u

Double Black 🖤

Hi! Trick or treat? 🎃

🎃👻Your little 🍬treatie🍬 shall be a snippet from my maid Chuuya and master of the house Dazai AU 👻🎃

“Chuuu-yaa,” Dazai yelled out, drawing out his name over several seconds, calling loudly so it could be heard from several rooms away. After a few seconds when Chuuya had not appeared he called out Chuuya’s name again, drawing it out even longer, his voice taking on a whiny quality.

When Chuuya finally did appear, he quietly approached Dazai and gave a small curtsey, “What do you need master?” he quietly asked, his eyes diverted respectfully downwards towards his shiny black shoes with a small block heel that formed part of his uniform. 

“What took you so long? My maid should always be prompt and efficient, I don’t pay you to move around like a slug,” Dazai berated, although his tone was conversational and not harsh. 

“Apologies sir, I was busy dusting the library. I will be more prompt next time.” Chuuya did not point out he had come as quickly as could be expected without outright running, considering the library was multiple rooms away.

“The whisky decanter is getting low, refill it, and the pillows on the couch are looking rather flat, fix that. And prepare a snack for us, we’re famished.” Chuuya just gave a small nod, he did not mention that the ornate decanter sitting on the drinks cart had barely gotten below half full, and certainly still had enough to see out the remainder of the night. He moved to obey Dazai’s wishes, heading towards the empty couch to start fluffing up the pillows, which did not look like they had been touched since the last time he had tended to them. 

None of the gathered guests knew him well enough to see what Dazai could, Chuuya’s shoulders had tensed up just slightly, his lips pressed tightly together, and his footsteps were just a fraction louder than they normally were, as he restrained himself from stomping as he walked. These were the only indications he was annoyed at being pulled away from his daily routine for the eighth time that day for a set of meaningless tasks. Each of the eight times Dazai had called out to him in the same sing-song voice, and each of the eight times Chuuya’s patience wore just a little thinner.

(Keep in mind this didn't get to the bit where we see Chuuya's true personality, I didn't just take all the fight out of my boy)

ask box trick-or-treat (fic writer edition)