SketchyLimp
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Summary
Dazai is the only one under whose skin Chuuya can’t get. Or can he?
(Useless abilities prove useful when applied right. Kissing someone can be as scary as getting your neck snapped. Parenthood is a lesson in resilience. Every farm is also a slaughterhouse. A prayer is just an exquisite form of humiliation. And loving Chuuya is hungry work, but Dazai knows how to put his money where his mouth is.)
Bookmarked by SketchyLimp
20 Sep 2025
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Summary
Dazai crouched beside Chuuya and grabbed him hard but certain by the back of his red hair, dragging him face-first before twisting him around. With the tip of his finger he tilted Chuuya’s chin upward; in that mocking, honeyed tone he spoke, “Is the little sheep running away? And at this hour of the night? How sweet. You know, this honestly could’ve put me to sleep—if only we had a few fences on the property~"
In that instant, Chuuya’s pride consumed him: he spat in Dazai’s face.
Dazai didn’t blink; with his fingertip he wiped the spit away with irritating patience, almost delicacy.
SLAP!
Dazai’s hand struck Chuuya’s face hard. So they might have a little fun.
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Aka. Chuuya was betrayed by The Sheep and the PM took Chuuya captive.
Bookmarked by SketchyLimp
12 Sep 2025
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叛逃期一段刺激的瑟瑟。
是訪談後衍生出來的文章！太宰：聽說中也認為我死了^^?
⚠️陌生人play ，箱中小狗，大量窒息與液體⚠️
開頭有一小段炮灰凝視Bookmarked by SketchyLimp
11 Sep 2025
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The end of the world fucking blows. Honestly, it couldn’t possibly get any worse.
And then it does when Chuuya’s stupid upstairs neighbor crashes through the ceiling of his shitty apartment with a noose around his neck, the other end tethered to a cheap chandelier and a hunk of drywall.
“Who the fuck are you?” Chuuya gasped, kicking at the gangly heap of a man atop the wreckage of his coffee table ghostly with plaster dust.
“Osamu Dazai.” The man offered his hand amiably, ignoring the horrified expression on the redhead’s face.
Chuuya shrank away from the hand as if it was roadkill. “Well… get the FUCK out of my apartment, Osamu Dazai,” he spat, recoiling onto his couch.
Turns out the end of the world is a slow burn, accompanied by a soundtrack of oldies and Frank Sinatra.
And of course there is only one bed.
Bookmarked by SketchyLimp
08 Sep 2025
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They weren’t supposed to meet like this—Chūya in silk and polish, standing on the arm of a stranger, wearing a smile Dazai knew too well. But the mask didn’t fool him, not when it cracked for a heartbeat under the chandeliers.
Curiosity becomes obsession, and obsession becomes something else entirely when Dazai discovers the truth: Chūya isn’t just for show. He’s for sale.“You’re paying me to lie.” - “Then lie to me again.”
Bookmarked by SketchyLimp
03 Sep 2025