I HATE BEING AN ARTIST AND A BAKUGOU STAN BC WHY CANT I DRAW HIM RIGHT IM NOT DOING MY BOY JUSTICE IN

I HATE BEING AN ARTIST AND A BAKUGOU STAN BC WHY CANT I DRAW HIM RIGHT IM NOT DOING MY BOY JUSTICE IN MY FUCKASS ART STYLE

I see your "dazai doesn't need chuuya and doesn't love chuuya the same way chuuya loves him" angsty headcanon and I raise you "chuuya realizes staying fixated on his childhood sweetheart is unhealthy and finally moves on with someone who treats him the way he wants to be treated" angsty headcanon. We are playing uno and I won

Kinda feel like writing sumn

✨️toxic✨️

So here's some possessive/yandere fyodor x chuuya heehooo let's go fyoya nation

Godly Possession

tw: yandere themes, possessiveness (duh), obsession, fyodor give dazai his man back, dazai fighting for his boo thang, I love torturing chuuya, I'll add more later cause tbh I'm jus winging this, noncon

______________________

Chuuya wasn't a god.

Far from it.

His own irritability, his pride, his insecurity, and even his own body was far from it.

But his ability was something different.

With the powers of Arahabaki, he was the closest you could get to an actual, real life God.

And as the prophet, the speaker of the heavens,

It was Fyodor's birthright to own him.

To keep him for himself to be used how he see fit.

He lured Chuuya in first. A house built with his ability in mind. Some say the only way to speak to a god is to pray to him, but to Fyodor, he decided to force him down to his level. Low enough for him to hear. To listen.

Trapped in a room cased with anti-ability technology, all he could do was fight and yell until Fyodor decided he was ready to talk.

He could've wasted hours talking down to him, telling him he's nothing but the Port Mafia's little guard dog, tied down so much that they no longer needed a leash, he simply followed his masters on his own. He was a rabid beast with incredible power, being used at barely even a half of what he could be.

Fyodor gave him a choice at first. He could join him willingly or not. But saying no was not an option. He said he would submit to him eventually, Fyodor was sure of it.

Then began the period of starvation, abuse, mistreatment, all things Chuuya took with gritted teeth and resilience in his eyes. Nothing would tear him away from the Port Mafia. Nothing at all.

Fyodor would bring him food three times a day, meals that Chuuya assumed were laced with something harmful, anything from sleeping pills to mind-controlling technology, he wasn't sure what Fyodor had up his sleeves. All he knew was that it wasn't poison. Definitely not. He needed him alive.

He needed his ability.

When Chuuya didn't eat, Fyodor starved him until he was too weak to fight him off as he spoonfed him. Yet the ginger haired man stayed resilient, hesitantly opening his mouth with his eyes fixed on the dark haired man.

Despite his boredom, he stayed seated the floor, too caught up in his pride to use the soft, comfy bed he was provided. One with soft white sheets that welcomed him more the longer he stayed.

He hated the feeling of it, but he didn't bathe for days. That bathroom was for expelling waste only, and even that was far too much of a risk. Chuuya hasn't a clue what Fyodor could be hiding in there, what plan he has in store for him.

Fyodor would come in and stay for hours, talking, trying to entertain the poor boy. He didn't bother to give him anything else to do, the point was something he called subtle torture. He didn't want to hurt Chuuya, not that much anyway.

It was all a battle of the mind. Fyodor would have been more challenged by someone like Dazai, and Chuuya knew that. So he chose to disclose as little information as possible. Refusing to answer questions, cursing him out every chance he got. He wasn't properly armed for this war, but he would fight in it anyway.

At some point, after maybe 3 or 4 months of this back and forth, Fyodor had had enough. He grew impatient with Chuuya's constant rebuttals, his answers that bounced back on his questions, revealing nothing. Unbeknownst to the redhead, Fyodor didn't want information. He didn't want anything to do with the Port Mafia. He wanted him.

Fyodor decided to punish him in a way that would forever change the entire atmosphere of this little game forever, altering the dynamic between the two. If Chuuya wasn't going to submit to him, he might as well fuck it out of him.

With the looming threat of Fyodor's ability, Chuuya wouldn't be able to fight back. Knowing he could end his life at any moment, any sign of rebellion, was enough to force him to obey. Fyodor kept his hands on Chuuya's body, from his wrists to his arms to his chest to his waist. He kept in contact with him throughout the entire love making. His cock stuffed inside of the poor boy, exiting and entering at such a slow pace, it frustrated him. It took a lot of work, but finally Chuuya started to beg. Not for him to stop, but to at least go faster. He couldn't bare this slow fucking anymore. He needed to cum, to release, even if part of him didn't want to. His stupid little monkey brain was giving in to the feeling, to the sensation of Fyodor's skin against his, his cock shoved deep inside him, while his true brain simply wanted to leave, to break a hole through the ceiling and use his ability to fly out of here. He hadn't felt so powerless in so long, and it was all in the hands of him.

After what felt like hours, all Chuuya could do was lie on the bed where Fyodor had fucked him, finally forcing him into the sheets. His body was absolutely wrecked, bite marks and bruises littering his skin. There was cum on his stomach and chest and even more seeping out of him. His breaths were shallow and uneven, and his eyes bore holes into the ceiling. They were tired from aimlessly wandering around the room, quickly and unsteady, trying to find a way out. But there was none.

"I hope you will be more willing to bathe now," Fyodor broke the deafening silence. It seemed like all he could hear for a couple minutes was his breathing, and the subtle sounds of Fyodor shuffling around next to him. He hadn't removed any of his clothes during the intercourse, all he had to do was pull his cock back into his pants and put his ushanka back on.

"I can do it for you." He said.

"P...piss off..." Chuuya slurred tiredly.

"Take my hand, Chuuya." Fyodor demanded calmly, stretching his opened palm out to him for the redhead to to accept.

"Don't...ffffucking call me that."

Fyodor didn't take that for an answer. He grabbed Chuuya's wrist and pulled him up from the bed. He struggled to get up, but as soon as he was stable on the floor he was pulled into the bathroom. It took him a little longer to catch up, as his legs still weren't working properly. As soon as they got in he walked even slower into the bathroom, too cautious for his own good.

"Don't be scared," Fyodor reassured him, "all I did was ability-proof the room, I did nothing to it that would put your safety at risk."

He got the redhead into the tub, and started filling it up with warm water. He winced at the touch of the initially cold water touching the bruises on his legs.

"Does it hurt?" Fyodor asked. He tried undoing the tie in Chuuya's messy and unkempt hair, but the man pulled away and did it himself, even if his wrists were sore from the hold the other had on them.

The two watched the water fill up the tub in silence. Then, Chuuya let Fyodor wash the gunk that's been building up in his hair the past few days, albeit unwillingly, then his hands cascaded down to his chest and arms. Fyodor was even careful enough to go easy on the parts with bruises and bite marks, which Chuuya still didn't appreciate. That's okay. He'll learn to appreciate everything Fyodor does for him soon.

Chuuya doesn't talk much after that. When Fyodor asks if he wants to eat, or if he wants to partake in a friendly chat, he just looks at him with the same resentful eyes then looks away. It makes Fyodor chuckle to himself at how much he's trying to fight back now, like a wounded dog growling at him to stay back, knowing it's too weak to do any real damage.

Fyodor watches Chuuya eat. At least, he tries to, but his wrists are still sore, which makes his hands shake and tremble as he tries to bring the spoon up to his face. Fyodor gets tired of seeing this and gently takes the spoon out of Chuuya's trembling hand, and brings it up to his own mouth, blows on it, then brings it up to Chuuya's.

He hesitates, then takes the spoonful of food into his mouth.

"Good, isn't it?" Fyodor asks as he watches the redhead chew.

Chuuya just looked away with a "hmph."

Hmm. Still not getting to him.

Fyodor would have his way with him every couple of days after that. With each thrust, with each pull, bite, bruise, with each grip on his wrists, he could feel a piece of Chuuya's soul cracking away.

One morning, Chuuya woke up to the feeling of warmth on his skin. A feeling he has long forgotten. He opens his eyes and they immediately ache with the feeling of something bright creeping into his-

Sunlight.

It's sunlight.

He shuffled up into a seating position and saw it. A long, slender, rectangle of sunlight appeared in front of him.

A window.

Now, if the same Chuuya Nakahara who first entered this little trap had seen this window, he would've smashed right through it to freedom. Call the Port Mafia for backup. Arrive with an army to take Fyodor down. But this wasn't the same Chuuya Nakahara.

He's long gone now.

Chuuya stared up at the window, this feeling of warmth being unfamiliar on his skin.

The thought of using it to escape didn't even cross his mind.

"Do you like it?" Came a voice. Now that was familiar.

Chuuya slowly looked back to find the same face he's been seeing throughout these past few months, the same dark hair, the same ushanka, the same coat.

"I figured you would like it," He said. "I blocked it out before you came, and I opened it this morning. What do you think?"

"....it's warm." Chuuya said softly, looking down. He felt like he had to shrink in Fyodor's presence.

The man put a cold, slender hand on his face and lifted it slowly to look up at him.

"You know," He started, with Chuuya's eyes fixed up at him, his face weak and starting to rest completely on Fyodor's hand.

"You may have been feeling weak while in here, but actually, I believe you are just as strong as you've always been.

I think your power is just....under new guidance."

"...guidance?"

"Yes. Guidance.

From now on I will guide you, to use your ability for the better. Wouldn't you want that....

Chuuya?"

He took his hand out of the man's face, and stretched it out in front of him. Asking him to take it.

The redhead paused. He looked down at the hand in front of him,

And took it.

He took his hand and let him call him Chuuya.

All his walls have broken down.

He himself has broken down.

All he is now is a dog for Fyodor to use, a puppet, a weapon.

Mind completely taken over by the man in the black coat, the speaker for god.

But now he had his own god he can control.

"Chuuya," someone called for him.

It was Dazai.

A once familiar face seems to be all a distant memory now.

He had found him here, atop a tall building, at the very center of one of Fyodor's plans.

"It's been a while, aye, Slug?"

Chuuya didn't know what to say.

He didn't know how to talk to Dazai anymore.

All he knew was Fyodor and his cause.

He didn't even stop to think if he agreed with it, he just knew he had to obey him.

"So this is where you've been this past year?"

Year? It's been a year already? How long was he inside that room? It couldn't have been that long...right?

Chuuya turned away. He wasn't ordered to kill Dazai, in fact, he said nothing about him being here. Did Fyodor not expect him? No, he must've seen him coming. He knows everything, and Chuuya knows nothing. That's how it works, right?

.....right?

"Looks like ol' Fedya's got you wrapped around his skinny little finger, huh?" Dazai continued. "I mean, I knew you were never that smart, but c'mon, Chuuya! You're better than that!"

What was supposed to be the same playful banter these two had exchanged so often had now grown stale. Odd. Unfamiliar. Chuuya didn't know how to react to it, or if he even should. He didn't get any orders from Fyodor regarding Dazai, so he didn't know what to do here.

"Chuuya." He said. His tone was stern and serious. He rarely ever sounded like that. Chuuya didn't seem to know him that well anymore, or even remember him that much, but he had a vague image of what he was like, despite it being altered by Fyodor's manipulation.

"Do you remember that name?" He asked.

The redhead turned around to face him.

"Only I can call you that." He said.

At this point the redhead didn't know if that was true. His past has been flushed out by Fyodor, he couldn't even remember if people called him by that name before.

"And only I can take your hand."

His palm was open, outstretched, ready for him to take.

Just like Fyodor's was.

But this was different. The way his name sounded in his voice, the way his hand poked out of his tan trenchcoat, which revealed a little bit of the bandages wrapped around his arm underneath. It felt like something he hadn't felt in a while.

In a world of cold, he felt warm.

"Come back to me, Chuuya." He called.

"Your power was never meant for him. It was for you."

Chuuya was starting to remember. The foggy vision of Dazai in his head began to grow clearer.

He remembers meeting him out in the slums when they were teenagers, kicking him into the wall with his ability.

His ability.

He remembers their first mission together, and their last. He remembers everything in-between, the banter, the fights, the anger, and yet, the quiet, somber moments, too.

He remembers joining the Port Mafia. He remembers Dazai leaving it. He remembers the wine he drank the night he left. A 1964 Romanèe-Conti. He remembers the way it tasted. He remembers the way it felt.

He remembers Dazai's touch, his skin against his own. Warm, it was warm.

He wondered if he took his hand now, would it still be warm?

Would he feel the way he did back then?

Would he even remember it?

All of it?

He didn't know.

He had to take a risk.

Not because Fyodor wanted him to, not even because Dazai wanted him to.

But because he wanted to.

Chuuya's hand reached out slowly.

Chuuya. His name was Chuuya.

It sounded different in his voice, in Dazai's voice too.

Did it sound different in other people's voices?

In Kouyou's?

In Ace's?

In Higuchi's?

In Akutagawa's?

He had to know.

He stepped closer, and held onto Dazai's hand.

His ability activated, and Chuuya's stopped.

It was a warm kind of day, he realized.

He didn't notice it until now.

_____________________

THIS TOOK ME ALL DAY I AM TIRED AND IM SORRY IF ITS NOT THAT GOOD AMD I JUSY REALIZED I WAS SUPLOSED TO DO AN EXAM AND I DIDNT OH SHIT OHHHHH FUCK

anyway

Mpreg soukoku for the soul part 2✨️🫄🧑‍🍼

Dazai and chuuya have been seeing both more and less of each other since that night

More because Dazai has been taking his new job of protecting chuuya very seriously, albeit with some jokes around here and there

And less because chuuya has been overcompensating at work over a flaw his boss doesn't even know about. By taking in extra missions, he's making it up to mori in hopes that fate will go easy on him when he can no longer hide his belly

Kouyo has also been going on more missions with chuuya as well. Even on missions where her presence was not needed

All this makes chuuya feel uneasy, he knows something is up. One afternoon, on their day off (chuuyas day off, dazai just didn't come into work that day) the two of them were on either side of the couch in dazais apartment, which is nowhere near as large and fancy as chuuyas, but they like it there.

Dazai is reading a book on omega male pregnancies while chuuya tries to read a book of his own. However, something was on his mind

"Hey, dazai" chuuya asks. Dazai lifts up his book to look chuuya in the eye. "What's up?"

Chuuya doesn't speak for a second. He doesn't even look at him. With his eyes focused on the ceiling where a fan is slowly pacing around its axis, he asks him a question

"Do you and kouyo have...something you want to tell me?"

Dazai sits up, putting his book down on his lap with a confused expression on his face

"No...why?"

Chuuyas grip on his book hardens as he grits his teeth

"Don't fucking lie to me" He growls

"Huh? Chuuya what do yo-"

"I said don't lie to me!"

Chuuya erupts from the couch in a fit of rage, a kind of rage dazai has never seen before

"I know that you two have been eyeing me like crazy! Helicoptering me like I'm some dumb little child! I'm not weak! Stop treating me like I am!"

"Chuuya calm down-"

"Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean i-"

"Doesn't mean what, chuuya?!"

Dazai's sudden outburst catches chuuya off guard.

"Chuuya I have spent my whole life by myself. Everything I love keeps being taken away from me. And now that I have something valuable, something like you, you think I'd just let it go that easily? You think I'd just play willy nilly with its soul? Your wellbeing is much more important to me than mine and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. And you don't even appreciate it. No "thank you dazai" no "you're so sweet dazai" it's always just complaining with you! Sometimes I even wonder if you love me at all!"

A hush falls over the room.

"Dazai, i-"

"Save it. I need some air" He fixes the collar of his coat and leaves the apartment

Chuuya is left alone, just like he knew he'd be

But this time it wasn't all dazais fault like it was before. Back then he could easily blame him for everything, for leaving, for abandoning him, for all the pain he caused. But now? This is all on chuuya. Maybe if he had been different, maybe if he was less....like himself, dazai would be happier to be with him

And now not only is he alone, but so is his future child. He puts a hand on his stomach as he looks down, a sorrowful look on his face.

"I'm so sorry little one...." He whispered to it.

Meanwhile, dazai walks down the dark streets of Yokohama as the rain showered him in despair. He doesn't mind his coat getting wet, it's seen worse

He heads into a local bar and takes a seat in a booth, alone with his thoughts. He doesn't know how long he's been in there until a man joins him in his booth.

"I knew you'd be here" kunikida says as he takes a seat across from him

"What?" Dazai asks, begging him to cut to the chase. He's not in the mood to talk.

"Heard about you and chuuya." Kunikida says as he takes a sip from his glass

Dazai sighs. "Sometimes I think I'm the only one who makes an effort in this relationship, yknow? I know we have history but, is that it? Are we just staying together because it feels familiar? And now we've got this kid and....I just....I don't know...."

Kunikida let's him finish talking and waits a second before starting

"You want my advice?"

"I'd rather have that drink in your hand"

Kunikida hands the glass over to dazai "i think you two are toxic as hell"

Dazai makes a subtle surprised look

"You both think you're doing the most while the other does the bare minimum. You both think the other has horrible qualities. You both find each other familiar. But you stick together despite it all. Maybe that's not just because it's familiar. Maybe you stick together because you know it's right. What I love about your relationship is that you can say whatever you want to each other and the next day you're still there. Plus, given the type of person you are, he probably had to deal with just as much. You're perfect for each other because you two are so goddamn imperfect that it just fits. A broken glass only stays together if the pieces that broke fit."

Dazai didn't expect to take any of kunikidas advice. He was planning on barely listening and just leaving him to pay his tab. But to his surprise, he got to him

Dazai gets up from his sadly slouched position and sits up properly, giving kunikidas words a lot of thought. He traced the rim of the glass with his finger. It was funny because he was doing the same thing in the same booth at this very bar, when he had his first drink witj chuuya

They were both still in the mafia back then, only about 15, when they took down a small group of thugs that were robbing the bar. Not for any righteous reason, though, the group had just been a big pain in the Port Mafia's trading business by stealing months worth of products so Double Black were sent to get rid of them

Chuuya was having a particularly bad day that day, and his anger let him do most of the fighting. Meanwhile, dazai got bored and distracted himself by examining an old looking bottle of brown liquid

By the time chuuya was done, dazai had started calling him over

"Oi! Chibi! Check this out!" He called

"I'm right here next to you you don't need to shout!" "Says the guy shouting right now! "What do you want?!"

"Check this out" dazai said, showcasing the fancy old bottle

"Scotch? You think you can take that?" Chuuya asks

"Oh and you can?" Dazai rebutted

"Please, I grew up in tje slums, if we were thirsty it was either this or the shit-infested water down by the creek. Give me that" he grabbed the bottle right out of dazais slender hands and took a swig out of it

He immediately regretted it as tje moment the liquid entered his mouth and went down his throat, tje boy coughed and gagged, choking on the horrid flavor, much to dazais delight

"Oooh look who can't handle a sip of a little alcohol! Mister Slumlord Gangster!" He teased as he took a confident gulp of the same drink

The feeling was intense. Words his little 15 year old mind couldn't fathom its flavor. In mere seconds he was a coughing, gagging mess just like his friend over there

Once their lungs had settled, dazai took a look at his unfriendly companion. It was only now that he realized how similar they actually were. Just two messed up teenagers barking way too big for their bite and projecting their insecurities on each other. But at least they did it together

"Um, sir?" An unfamiliar voice asked

Dazai snapped out of his trance to look up at the waiter

"Were closing now, sir. Please come back tomorrow"

Dazai and kunikida walked out of the bar to be greeted by the rain.

"You do some thinking for once, okay?" Kunikida said as a parting gift as the two of them went their separate ways

Dazai thought about chuuya the entire way home. As he entered his apartment, he realized, wait, isn't chuuya supposed to be here?

He looked around the small area and saw no sign that he was even there. The place was as he had left it, minus chuuyas things.

It wasn't like he was moving out, he had never moved in in the first place, but something about how empty the place looked without him just didn't feel right.

He figured he had just gone home. Taking his phone and dialing his number, he thought about what he was even going to say. How do you have an outburst like that and just leave? What are you supposed to say after that?

Dazai wasn't going to admit he was wrong. Was he wrong even? He didn't know. But maybe this was something he could work out with chuuya

Chuuyas phone rang, causing vibrations that went around the side of his pants. He took it out of his pocket and examined the small screen, making an uneasy face as he realized it was dazai. He took a second to imagine the pros and cons of answering, but after a few seconds the ring tone was bothering him, so he decided to do it anyway

"Hey, i-"

"Listen. I'm sorry about what I said, but I don't think it was wrong. We both have flaws and I think our relationship is strong enough to work through that. I'm sorry I yelled, okay? Please come back so we can talk about this."

"Dazai, I'll talk to you later, I'm at work." "Oh right. Sorry. I'll talk to you later"

Tje call ended and chuuya put his phone down.

"Call from the hubby?" Mori asked, turning around to face chuuya as he walked

"Yeah, we just got into this big fight, it's no big deal. And hey, he's not my husband."

They were walking down one of the many hallways of the Port Mafia headquarters when they stopped in front of a small empty room

"Not married, I see..." . Mori said witj a smile, watching chuuya walk ahead of him into the room.

"That's gonna change after you have the baby, though, right?"

Chuuya turned to face mori with eyes big as saucers

Before he could say anything or make a move, a thick layer of glass appeared to separate them, or mostly just to keep him inside. No matter how much he kicked or punched or manipulated his way out, he still couldn't make a scratch.

"You must've thought I was a fool to think I wouldn't find out" mori said

"Boss! I can still work through this! I can still be useful! I promise!"

"I don't need another mouth, chuuya." Mori shrugged off his statement as he slowly walked away

"You and your child are of no use to us now."

Just INFP's supporting each other teehee!!! *screams as the train were on gets dangerously close to the railroad bridge that's been blown to pieces in the middle until the entire first carriage dangles from it*

*does a sick drift and stops right in front of you* NO TIME TO EXPLAIN GET IN