Asks Answers - Blog Posts

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)

Hi! Trick or treat?🍬🕷️

Hi!! Have a WIP as a treat 🎃👻

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Guests filtered through the entrance, flashing their wealth with expensive clothing and glittering jewelry. They flocked toward potential sponsors, creating connections and the like.

Glasses clinked, discussions made surrounding the latest news in the Tsushima household.

Dazai strolled through the party, back straight and head held high as some of the kinder-looking women cooed and murmured to each other about the little boy growing to be such a gentleman. Clad in a perfectly tailored suit, he fit right in amongst the crowd despite being only 7.

His siblings were spread out, talking with some businessman or other. Just like father taught them to do. By the end of the night, a potential deal would be struck and his mother would disappear once again to visit her friend, leaving everything behind before she appeared a few days later.

He wondered, briefly, if the reason she paid her friend visits so often was to escape this stifling house for as long as she could.

He wondered if the reason she always brought him along was so he could escape too.

Hello! Trick or treat? 🩸

Off the beaten path past the row of trees and over the gnarled roots that lined the way, you discovered a treasure chest at the end. In plain sight. The wind picked up, but other than that, you are all alone, and nothing seemed amiss as you stepped closer and peered inside for your goodies. 👻

The made-up lives lost. The charade. The demand that he burned in hell. Was he sorry he couldn't be what he wanted to be—a good person? Chuuya elaborated after having time to think about it: “But I know who you are now,” he paused to let that sink in before quickly continuing, “I mean, I don’t know you at all. But I know enough that who you aren’t isn’t the same from what I’ve heard.” “What makes you say that?” Dazai’s lips curled at the corners and exposed teeth. “I could kill you and you wouldn’t even know it.”

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