#dazaibirthdayweek2024

[fortunately-pancakes]

birthday party in august, but you were born 19th of june

A no-powers, modern AU one shot with Great Gatsby vibes!

Summary:

It’s been five years since Chuuya and Dazai published their novel, Soukoku, four since they stopped being writing partners, and two since Chuuya realized he’s in love with said ex-writing partner. Five months since they were contacted about making a Soukoku movie, four since they met in person for the first time after the split, and two since he inadvertently ruined Dazai’s birthday and made an even bigger ass of himself than normal.

But now Chuuya is determined to make Dazai his and accepts help from an unlikely ally.

~

“Boy troubles, is it?” Fitzgerald asks.

“Chuuya’s trying to get his long lost love to notice him,” Albatross says, grinning. Chuuya kicks him under the table.

“Ah. I understand how hard it can be, dealing with matters of the heart,” Fitzgerald says, sounding sympathetic. “Before Zelda and I got married, I fear I made quite a fool of myself. I learned that sometimes, all you need is the right setting.”

“The right setting?” Chuuya ventures.

“A party.” Fitzgerald smiles at him over his glass.

Party?

~

Thank you so much to @shrimpkini for the wonderful art! There’s a second piece in the fic as well 😉

And happy birthday to Dazai! Even though most of this fic takes place after his birthday 😅

I’ve been working on this fic for a few weeks and am so excited to share it, so please let me know what you think if you read it! 💜

[bbgdefencelawyer]

'a good night's sleep isn't so bad sometimes..'

for @dazaibirthdayweek2024 <3

[dazaibirthdayweek2024]

Guys, Gals and Non Binary Pals, I present to you... 🥁🥁🥁 THE PROMPT LIST!!!

🔹Day 1— June 15th:

Schemes || Scars || "A good night's sleep isn't so bad sometimes..."

🔹Day 2— June 16th:

Romance || Suicide || "We breathe, eat, fall in love and die."

🔹Day 3— June 17th:

Good Intentions || Masks || "You're terrible at this!"

🔹Day 4— Juna 18th:

Mentorship || Bandages || "Why didn't you listen?!"

🔹Day 5— June 19th: BIRTHDAY!!!

Feel free to mix the prompts and use them however/whenever you'd like!! As mentioned in the rules, Sfw and Nsfw works allowed!! Go bonkers! (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

[yoursminehourss]

I dont think I’ve ever been so giddy to post a fic before aaaahh >//< last day of @dazaibirthdayweek2024, albeit a little late, but its like three in the morning and this might be the best thing I’ve ever written. Please god consider reading this

[kimetsu-chan]

Dazai Week, Day 1: “Scars”

It’s pretty ugly- but it’s the only thing I can pop out in time for day 1-

Prompt here

Taglist 🏷️: @larz-barz @aceofstars0 @mooechi @saffron0v0 @cherry-bomb-xoy

@zenitsustherapist @rion-isnot-an-ai @gyutarowritings @midnightmah07 @local-giyuu-simp

@pinkwisteria

[marikosenwrites]

"with only good intentions in mind." - day three.

dazai tried. he really did, but nothing works out for him. often enough, the things he loves the most get taken away from him. the reason usually being himself, or they just had a reason to be taken away.

but you had no reason. he had put on a mask in front of everyone, even you. your filter was the strongest. he did everything you wanted, like a slave for you, spoke the sweetest words in front of you, and did the loveliest things.

what was he inside? he questioned himself. the filter seemed to have gotten to him- even he didn't know what he was in front of you know. a lovesick fool? no, there's no way. just a fool? that, maybe.

he was going to hurt you, said his mind. he wanted you, said his heart. and there he was, contemplating his love life on the couch of the agency's office. he couldn't decide which to trust- his logics, or emotions?

he didn't know.

as a matter of fact, one would say "logic" because they're what you need, not want. they're two different things, after all.

now, he stood in front of your dorm, preparing his speech. "[name]? can i come in?" he asks after knocking three times in a specific rhythm. you should know it was him.

and you did. so you opened the door, and welcomed dazai into your room. "osamu! why are you here so early? i thought...nevermind."

"ano...we need to talk. i've been thinking-" he starts off, only to be cut off by a joke from you.

"that's dangerous. don't do it too much," you say, smile reaching your eyes.

"i'm serious, [name]-chan," he tries to keep a straight face. "let's break up."

"...i'm sorry? repeat that?" you're confused, and he expected that reaction from you. you weren't really one to suspect, and when you did, you were probably right.

"let's break up," he repeated, waiting for your reaction.

"are you serious?"

"yes."

you slump down, breaking dazai's heart into pieces. this was needed, he convinced himself. in order to not hurt you.

"why?" you asked him, "what went wrong?"

"i'm sorry, [name]."

"don't be- you'll only make me worse."

dazai stands up, exiting the dorm now, hearing your sobs echo through the room.

this was good.

it was all right.

word count: 387 words

©marikosenwrites 2023-2024 all rights reserved. i do not own any of the bungou stray dog characters.

[littlemusic-muse]

Happy birthday, Dazai!!

@dazaibirthdayweek2024, Thanks for hosting this event!!

"To Trust,

To Struggle,

To Hope,

Humanity is a cruel mistress, but even so, there are groups of people who choose to face her head-on anyway.

Perhaps because of this, I would choose to still live to see the world that will be created from the ashes of conflicts and change."

[unicornpopcorn14]

1, 8, or 32 for skk (from the hug prompts) 🥹👉🏻👈🏻

bestie you can’t do this to me i will request all of them

THEY'RE ALL SUCH GOOD PROMPTS I AGREEEE

Hug prompts

Decided to go for 1- "Are you cold? You look like you're freezing."

Additionally, for @dazaibirthdayweek2024 Day 3: Good Intentions + Masks

Words: 3.3k. Hope you like it, Essie!! :D

Rings a Bell

You’d think being stuck with your former partner/enemy in a confined space is the worst thing that can happen to a person…

But no, it can get worse, when said confined space happens to be a fucking freezer room.

Yeah, Chuuya has no idea what led them to this. Well, he does, but thinking about it too hard might cause his fifth aneurism today, and, less importantly, dissipate his already fickle energy.

A snicker resounds from beside him, “Chuuya’s growling like a dog again!”

“Shut the fuck up before I hang you from that meat hook myself…” He tries to give his usual bite, but it falls short as his stomach lurches again, feeling awful in all sorts of places.

Great news: he can’t see shit. Mostly blurry shapes and wavering colors, but never past that. It doesn’t help that he has the fattest migraine of the century, accompanied by an urge to vomit he honestly doesn’t know how he managed to fight against this long. Arahabaki, the damn scoundrel, decides to stay standstill and let him handle this one on his own. Fucking fantastic.

He had been told what poison he’s been injected with, but he can’t for the life of him remember the name right now.

And who’s to blame for all of this? You guessed it.

“Chuuya!!” Dazai claps with a higher-than-normal-pitch, which successfully sends stronger-than-usual-ringing to his ears, “How did you know the new method I was planning to try out?! And you’re offering to help me?! My, you should get poisoned more often!”

“You’re lucky I currently am, piece of shit…” God, he wanted to sound harsher than that– perhaps come up with a more creative thing to retort with, but that all gets swept away by low groans and helpless eye rolls…

Chuuya doesn’t know why he even bothers with looking out for that bastard when all he does is become a pain in the ass afterwards. Every time he tells himself he would wholly ignore his former partner the next joint mission, something like this happens which throws all of his vows to the curb:

Dazai was probably distracted, probably not, but Chuuya grabbed him aside anyways, rendering him without an ability for just a second.

And right then a needle buried in his neck.

They got their asses handed to them immediately afterwards, because of course, and the fuckers decided to add onto their frozen meat collection today of all days– thus, their predicament.

Which consists of opposite organization members seated in a freezer room against an icy wall, the mafia member certainly looking more limp and uncoordinated than the other. Chuuya doesn’t know how Dazai’s seated, but he’s 90% sure he isn’t staying still for the life of him, so guessing that would be impossible.

“Think Koyou-san will send a search party after you?” The question comes out as slyly as you’d think a Dazai-question would come out.

“This fast? No… She knows I can handle myself…” Dazai should already know this, as nothing has changed much in the last four years. Chuuya groans out, breathing coming in difficult, “I’d have to be gone for an entire week before she gets worried.”

“Hm, same with the Agency. But not that long. Just a day at most…” He hears shifting from beside him once again, overly wary of his surroundings since his sight is on hold, “So we’re stuck here until the poison symptoms wear off. Alone. Together. Great.” Dazai concludes like it wasn’t fucking obvious.

“At least you have the blessing of seeing in front of you.” Chuuya closes his eyes to stop his spinning vision, as perhaps that can help keep the migraine at bay, “Do you realize… how nerve-racking it is to stay this close to you while blind?! You might try anything…!”

“That’s right!” Dazai chirps, his enthusiasm successfully making Chuuya’s nerves prickle, “Chuuya better use his ultra-deduction-instincts if he wishes to stand a chance!”

He grimaces while thumping his head back, wanting to re-demand the other to shut up for how splitting his voice rings in his skull, but Dazai would probably take that as an opportunity to scream, so he resorts to: “God, I hate you…”

From (unfortunate) experience, and seeing how high on the awful-feeling scale this falls, Arahabaki will stay asleep for twenty more minutes -adding to the fifteen he already suffered through-, until he finally feels the need to fucking do something and starts kicking his freaky immune system to life.

His breath comes out as condensed clouds, each intake of breath colder than the last. The shitty smell of raw meat doesn’t help with the nausea, and he has half a mind to sleep all of this off, but leaving the suicidal freak alone with metal hooks all around is probably a wildly stupid idea. He’s still weighing his options-

“I’m booooored!!” Dazai suddenly whines, high pitched and grating. Chuuya jolts, opening his eyes in order to send the other a scowl out of habit.

Only various shades of brown meet his vision, swimming before him. The migraine remerges tenfold,  “Wh-”

“Chuuya, entertain me!” Dazai leans onto him, shoulder to shoulder, so roughly that the clench of his stomach tightens. Chuuya barely has the energy to push the bastard back, said bastard surely aware of that, “Be my jester! Now, now!”

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that? Hey-”

Just as Dazai straightens on his own, Chuuya feels his fedora getting snatched, followed by low chuckles and murmurs of “Disgusting hat, I’mma burn you when we’re out of here…”

If Chuuya were to sound crazy, he’d have told you that Dazai is purposely being extra obnoxious right now– ridiculously so, but four years of separation might have granted him the blessing of forgetting how annoying Dazai could truly get, thus doesn’t humor that thought…

“You have two seconds before I start calling for grantors of dark disgrace and level this whole room over your head.” He warns, and doubts this is a good idea at all (Forcing Arahabaki awake is never a good idea). But he’s seriously getting tipped over the edge and the drug rushing in his veins isn’t helping in the slightest, “Give it, now.”

Dazai stays silent for a few seconds. A few seconds too long. Catching a glimpse of his face threatens to empty out the contents in his stomach, so Chuuya just decides to close his eyes again and relish this brief moment of piece, brushing the flicker of confusion aside.

Then the grating is back, “Fiiiine…”

It’s weird how Dazai takes his already outstretched hand and places the fedora on top of it, even lingering the hold on his gloved fingers for a second before letting go. Weird, but not concerning.

“Smart choice.”  He plants his belonging back on his head, sighing lowly. The option of sleeping sounds like a dream right now– would save him the trouble of handling the two constant problems in his life at once. But nothing ever feels as good as it sounds in Chuuya’s case– sometimes his comfort comes with a heavy price, even.

Suffering through this it is, then.

“Ne, you really still can’t see?” Dazai leans onto him again– not as roughly, but certainly making Chuuya lose his balance all the same, “What about the headache? Is it getting any better? Is it? I’m bored- can you see yet? Can y-”

“No I fucking can’t, that’s why we’re still here!” Chuuya exclaims, successfully shoving him off, unable to handle Dazai’s toddler whining a second longer, “You think I wouldn’t have kicked the door down the second I regained my ability?!”

“Eh, you’re right. The air smells so bad when a dog is sharing it with me.” Dazai taunts, and must be leaning back onto the wall now, legs overly outstretched before him (probably rocking his heels back and forth) because God forbid he ever sit normally, “Too bad the door is too sturdy to budge with my kicks.”

“Cuz you’re a wuss.”

“Cuz it’s sturdy.” The other stresses, then it’s silent for a few minutes. The moment the headache begins to dissipate into a buzzing sting, rather than pounding ache, Dazai decides he should resume the torture session,

“Chuuya should cut his hair.”

That’s… so random. Even by Dazai standards. “What the he- Are you touching it?!”

Fingers tug on the longer end of his hair, brushing it, “Need scissors.”

Chuuya wishes he could recoil back in disgust, he really does, “Keep your grubby fingers to yourself, piece of shit! You know how much product I use?!” He tries to smack the hand away, never lands on it, “They’re worth your damn hands.”

Dazai blows a raspberry, and the fingers meekly abort, “My bad for trying to make a slug look a hundred times better.”

“This is neither the time nor place for it, freak.”

“Oh, so you agree to cutting it later? Consent granted!”

Chuuya springs up from the wall, “THAT’T NOT WHAT I-” At the violent lurch he receives in his abdomen, he gags mid-sentence, but thankfully doesn’t fully throw up. Or unthankfully. He isn’t sure what’s better for him at the moment. He tries to breathe through the acid in his throat, “Fuck…”

He hears shifting from beside him, peeking to deduce Dazai hugging his knees now– rocking back and forth? He closes his eyes again, wishing time wasn’t a slow bitch at the moment. One arm presses to his abdomen, right where it’s angry and upset, the other stays numb on the floor beside him. Several clouds form in front of his lips, with him somehow sweating midst the freezing room, the water cooling on his burning skin terrifyingly fast. Perhaps a minute more and they’d turn solid.

“Can your trusty dusty chaos God wake up any faster?” Oh, right. Dazai isn’t dead yet, so peace for him isn’t an option, “Does turning him off and on again works?”

Chuuya rigids once something that feels like ice pokes his cheek,

“Fucking hell, when did you find an ice cube?” He uncoordinatedly smacks the thing away, which turns out to be a hand. Huh. “You already know the answer to that, bastard. Why are you even trying?”

“Worth it…” He giggles, something breathy about it, off. Chuuya pauses, sharpening his hearing instantly, because anything off regarding Dazai is always a bad sign, and his sense about this never lies. Call it a sixth sense, if you will. “Besides, pestering Chuuya when he’s weak is fun! You think I won’t take my chances? You really don’t know me at all!”

At that his concentrated frown dissipates, immediately replaced by one of assessment.

“Wait a second…” He keeps his head hanged and eyes closed, but his tone rumbles all the same, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Whatever you mean, sluggy poo?”

Chuuya doesn’t fall for the bait, sharpening his hearing even more, “I thought you were being annoying just for the sake of it, but now you’re outright telling me you’re being annoying?” He lifts his head to look at the direction of the other, sending a glare with closed eyes, “You’re trying to hide something. Out with it.”

“Pfff, paranoid much, aren’t we?”

And just like that, Chuuya catches it.

The shivers in the other’s breathing, that automatically translate to shudders in his speech, are so subdued, desperately trying to stay hidden from him, trying to get concealed behind loud pitches and provoking fronts.

It’s a testament to how far gone his mind is in order for that to escape him.

“You’re-” Without asking for verbal confirmation that he wouldn’t get, Chuuya hurriedly takes off his gloves, “Gimme that- where is it?” He blindly wanders till he finds a bandaged wrist and grasps it. The stiffen of the other gets ignored as his hands travel to the only bare parts in Dazai’s body– his fingers and face. The fingers are frigid to the point where he can’t hold them for more than a few seconds, while the moment he clumsily smacks the face in order to cup it with both hands, it’s like all his body heat rushes to it– the skin cold, hungry and craving any kind of warmth, “What the hell- you’re fucking freezing!”

“Wow, what an astute observation, Chuuya.” He hears the roll of the other’s eyes, as Dazai’s quivering fingers hold onto both of Chuuya’s wrists, trying to push them away from his face but not putting that much effort into it, “It’s not like we’re literally in a freezer room.”

“No- this isn’t normal.” Chuuya declares, squeezing the cheeks in. How come cold skin can burn so much? “We’ve only been here for like…”

“Twenty minutes?”

“Exactly. Doesn’t it take about… way longer for hypothermia to kick in?”

“That’s you! You’re the abnormal one!” Dazai exclaims, sounding more genuine than he has been since they’ve been thrown in here. Scratch that– since he’d known him, “You think all people come with a built-in heater? I thought you realized that that’s not the case during your mission in Siberia. And you call me a fish.”

Chuuya pauses promptly. Oh, right. Sometimes he forgets that he isn’t the only one who occasionally wakes up to screams coming from within, or feels unprecedented urge to unleash chaos in stressful situations, or even runs way warmer than others. These are constants in his life. Constants he has to remind himself that no other person experiences…

And even if Arahabaki is asleep, the remnants of his abnormally high temperature is still very much intact. Chuuya doesn’t feel much past the chills of the poison itself, other than that? Coolness at best at his extremists. He’d need to stay here thirty minutes longer for the real frigidness to kick in…

Though Chuuya is equally aware that while his core temperature is abnormally high, Dazai’s core temperature is, funnily enough, abnormally low. Leave him out in the snow for a few minutes and you’d get a hypothermic mackerel popsicle in no time.

Chuuya grimaces. Stupid, stupid.

How could he forget that? His mind defends him, tells him it must have been the poison, that it must have played a part in brushing that fact aside. Chuuya wants to curse it out. He’s retained many random facts about Dazai by heart– so, so many, some even entirely useless; but when it comes to important stuff he somehow has to be reminded of them the hard way. What is wrong with him?

Well, time to make up for that. Harshly, because the bastard deserves it.

“I’m perfectly normal, thank you very much.” He lies through his teeth, but his voice is almost soft, fingers still intact with the skin cosplaying an ice wall, “You’re the one with a terrible immune system that is eager to kill you at the first given chance.”

Dazai chuckles, breathily once again. Shakily, the accurate word for it. “Dying by hypothermia i-isn’t too bad, actually!”

“Just- fucking drop it, will you? You don’t need to do that shit.” Once again he grits out softer than intended, finally cutting the contact. If he had his eyes working, he’d have seen the way Dazai chases the hands for a second before collecting himself and drawing back, “Come closer before I snatch you by the hair.”

“Chuuya wouldn’t have the energy to, anyway…” Dazai finally sounds as slurred and exhausted as he should, and Chuuya’s thankful he can even move– numbness probably there but hasn’t fully settled in.

“You remember our code?”

“Code white? O-Of course I do. Have many fond memories with it.” He hears the rustle of fabric, which means that Dazai is taking off his coat. Chuuya does the same, if a little slower.

“Stage?”

“Mild.”

Chuuya exhales, “Thank fuck, I wasn’t looking forward to sharing body heat with you properly.”

There is a pause, then, “…Severe, then.” He sees the smirk in the Dazai’s face without the need to see at all.

“That so? I’ll bash your head against that metal wall, then.” He knocks behind him twice, just as he senses Dazai drawing near, “Seems like it would do the trick nicely.”  

“No thanks, I-I change my mind. I’d like the mild-stage treatment.”

“Just as I thought.”

Chuuya suddenly feels a weight on his lap, and acts. He takes both of their coats and wraps them with it as make-shift blankets, just as Dazai gets comfortably seated, ear over Chuuya’s heart, knees tucked close. The redhead presses his lips on the hair beneath him before he can help it, feeling the frost that has settled there. One arm supports the taller’s shoulder and back, while the other wraps around Dazai’s midsection, keeping him caged in.

Now without the need to hide anything, Dazai’s shivers turn to trembles, rocking him to his core and rocking Chuuya along with it. The brunette wraps the coats tighter around himself, pulse audibly rapid and panicking, trying to compensate the body for the heat it lost apace.

Chuuya’s migraine begins dissipating a little, and he dares open his eyes, to find the variety of colors taking the form of actual shapes, now. He relaxes, just as he feels Dazai do the same– their positioning, strange as it may come for them, somehow feeling utterly natural…

“Gosh, I almost forgot your stupid tendency to never speak up in situations like this.” The mafioso chastises midst the curls, “What? Were you trying to make up for the fact that I got drugged cuz of you?” Chuuya is sure there might be a number of other reasons, like the fact that Dazai could have simply been waiting to die like that– to pass out from the cold and never feel it when Chuuya tries to wake him up again.

But Dazai’s silence grants him an abundance of answers, one of them that confirms his verbal question, and he tskes in displeasure.

“Goody-two-shoes act that makes me sick...” He rasps, his upset stomach comforted with the added pressure to it.

Dazai huffs, finding the energy to nuzzle his cheek to Chuuya’s chest exactly like a freaking cat, “My personal heater…”

At how weirdly endearing that sounds, Chuuya bristles, “I’m not your fucking-”

“Along with being my dog? Too many jobs for your brain to handle, Chibi…!” Dazai’s slurred speech sounds funny, but the words themselves cause the shorter to growl, “You’ll overwork yourself!”

“Your neck is in a perfect position to get snapped. Watch your words.”

“Hm…” Dazai takes the threat in stride, one of his hands that was lost under the blanket coming up to hold onto Chuuya’s shoulder, “The air still smells bad, by the way.”

“Then I’ll keep you trapped in it for longer.” Chuuya counters, sharing his former partner’s frigidness without mind or care. He meekly feels the forehead concealed under brown bangs, to find it minutely warmer than before. Good, great.

“How much longer are we staying here again…?” Dazai asks.

Chuuya blinks, cozy, “Not much. I can see better now.”

“Mm, then all your strength will be back in ten minutes at most…”

“Of course you still memorize the exact cooldown duration of my ability.” Chuuya would have rolled his eyes if it weren’t for his splitting headache, “Why am I not surprised?”

Dazai keeps quiet, head hanging as he mumbles, “Chuuya’s the one with a bad memory…”

The redhead pauses, unable to deny the present truth before him, “Maybe…” He mumbles back, then huffs, “But at least you’re a thorn in my side that annoyingly reminds me of the kind of stuff I eagerly want forgotten…”

“If it’ll make Chuuya miserable,” Dazai tilts his head up. Chuuya sees the smile so clear, bright and giddy. Blurry at the edges but real. “I’ll always be a thorn in his side that will always keep annoyingly reminding him…”

Something leaps in his heart at the connotation embedded in these words, of his former partner vowing to never leave again, to forever be a part of the mafioso’s life despite what life has done them, despite the circumstances. And Chuuya himself vows to never forget how such a simple word almost sent him in a haze of emotions so deep and human. The word always.

His hold tightens, and he hides his face before mumbling, “Of course it will make me miserable, bastard…”

~~~~

Hc for context: I’m a ‘Chuuya has amnesia as a trauma response’ believer. Like yeah he remembers some details regarding missions but otherwise blocks out anything his mind deems too stressful to deal with. “Your mission in Siberia” Actually had most of his subordinates die because they stayed for the cold too long. :’) Obviously, some missions with Dazai are in that chunk as well, along with the entirety of Stormbringer cuz I said so jnrgjrn.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! This wasn’t my best work so forgive me, Essie! I’ll try my best to edit and tweak some things in here when I have the energy. <33

[saffron0v0]

My contribution to the Dazai week 2024→ Day 2

Romance→ Dazasaki

I love them to bits, so if you don't like this pairing just leave it be. I'm very attached to this one so I'm specifically asking to not repost this one (the same applies to the rest of my art)

@dazaibirthdayweek2024

[sunnikos]

Day 4: Mentorship

Hello! I am participating in Dazai Birthday Week 2024. This is Day 4! I am late once again but don’t worry because this one’s really good I prommy 🙏

TW: Depression, suicidal thoughts.

This fic contains some Kunidazai and background Shin Soukoku if these parings are not for you, then please do not read further <3

2k words

Enjoy the piece, and stay tuned for the next one!

| Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 |

Taking on Atsushi wasn’t in Dazai’s plans. The very boy taking on Kyouka wasn’t in Dazai’s plans. Finding a new reason to wake up every day wasn’t in Dazai’s plans. So many people refuse to let him die, which is very annoying. But.. maybe that’s what it’s all about. Perhaps this is why Odasaku wanted Dazai to become a good man. Dazai was bound to die brutally in the Port Mafia. You can’t trust anyone there. Dazai doesn’t know how he ended up trusting three people. His mistake.

Although it’s not such a mistake anymore,. It hurt more than anything in the moment. Yet, now that he has his people… he can’t imagine just- giving it up. He wishes Odasaku didn’t have to die for him to have this. He wishes Odasaku could’ve had this. Now all he has is a memory of him and his ideals. To think Dazai would’ve let Atsushi suffer the same fate as him if he’d gone off and died like he planned. And for what purpose?

He would never really justify Odasaku’s death. But it had a butterfly effect. To put Atsushi through that pain with no rhyme or reason? It feels wrong now, like an untuned guitar being played on stage. While Dazai isn’t perfect, he tries more or less to ignore the call for death. It’s not as important as what he has now. Giving up isn’t his choice now. It will always be an option, still, he’s proud to say he has picked joy. He’s picked Kunikida’s nagging, Ranpo’s bragging, Kyouka’s queeries, Kenji’s silly supportive texts, and Atsushi’s appreciation.

His phone buzzes, and he can tell right away that he doesn’t want to answer it. It rumbles some more, and he flops over, ignoring the device. Ten minutes later, he hears a gentle knocking, instead of the violent door assault that Kunikida is privy to. Who have they sent to fetch him this time? He was doing fine with his internal revalations, if he has to actually put them to practice so soon he will actually grow nauseous.

“Dazai, may I come in?” says Atsushi from outside the door.

“Hmph.”

Atsushi politely lets himself into Dazai’s dorm.. huh, Kunikida must’ve given him a key, and sits down on his legs and gently prods at Dazai’s shoulder.

“C’mon, I need your help.”

“Get Ranpo to do it.”

“He’s out today.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, you’re out of luck then!”

“Dazai,” Atsushi says, lowering his voice and looking around to check that no one is listening in, “I need your help specifically..”

“You have thirty seconds to make it interesting.”

“Ineedhelpwooingaportmafiamember.” Atsushi says in one fell swoop.

“What?”

“I need your help wooing a Port Mafia member..!”

“Wow, I didn’t know it was getting serious with the Port Mafia’s rabid dog,” Dazai begins to mock, “you kids grow up so fast!” he declares.

“Dazai,” Atsushi says through gritted teeth, “be quiet.”

“Ahhh, I see how it is~” he teases.

“Shut upppp, seriously, just help me out..!”

“Fine fine, so the first thing you’re going to do is…”

—

“Kyouka, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Dazai throws on an overexaggerated smile and crosses his legs. It’s not that he dislikes Kyouka, not at all. He simply doesn��t know how to talk to her. She’s not very expressive, so there’s nothing for Dazai to bounce off of.

“I need help with using the stove after work today.”

“I see..”

Kyouka stares at him. He stares back, both waiting for an answer. Dazai’s head is swimming with questions and anxieties about how this conversation could turn out.

“Right,” Dazai stalls, “I’ll help you with the stove two hours after I’m off the clock..” he looks uncertain but finishes anyway, “does that work with you?”

“Yes.”

“Alrighty then..!”

God, that was awkward. Dazai wishes his life had ended four years ago, so he’d never have been responsible for such a conversation. How does Atsushi deal with the embarrassment? Wait.. Dazai might have prepared his colleague well enough on his own for dealing with embarrassment, huh.. Whoopsie? Well, no! Actually, Dazai did him a favor, and now Atsushi is a pro at having conversations with Kyouka. He may have unknowingly made his young coworker surpass him, but to be fair, there was no one to be a Dazai to.. Dazai. So he had no clue how to handle this embarrassment now.

By the time Dazai comes to, Kyouka has already gone back to her workspace. Why had Kyouka even asked him for help? The hopeless detective eats almost exclusively canned crab! He has no real experience with a stovetop. Fuck okay, Kyouka would normally have asked Atsushi but he’s been busy with his budding romance lately, (thanks to Dazai of course) and hasn’t had time to teach Kyouka life skills. But still, Dazai? Why on earth would she come to him for help. Was it.. perhaps because Atsushi.. trusts him? So she does too?

Wait no- that doesn’t make any sense! Kunikida is always the more viable option! Right, Kunikida. He needs to drag that man away from his work (heh) and force him to teach Dazai how to use a stovetop in time to teach Kyouka everything she needs to know. This is his moment to +..｡*ﾟ+shine+..｡*ﾟ+

He needs to go bug Kunikida RIGHT NOW! Dazai saunters over to Kunikida’s seat and drapes himself over the man.

“Kunikiiiiidaaaa,” the badaged man whines, “I need your help right now, it’s dire! Urgent! My life depends on it!” ”Dazai, leave me alone, some of us have things to do during the work day.”

“Kunikida, you don’t get itttt, I need your help for realsies!”

“What are you bugging me about, Dazai, spit it out.” Kunikida wears an unimpressed expression.

“Soooooo-”

“Get on with it, Dazai.” Kunikida’s irritation is palpable.

“I maybe need to learn how to use a stovetop, hehe?”

An exhausted self-restraining sigh forces it’s way out of Kunikida, “Dazai, you are banned from cooking for a reason..!”

“I know! But Kyouka asked me to teach her how, and I can’t let go of this opportunity to bond with herrrrrr!”

“You’re still not allowed in a kitchen anywhere at any time!”

“Well, hang on now, you’re a bit too quick to say no-”

“Dazai!”

“No wait, hear me out!”

Kunikida facial features morph to convey an expectant expression, but he lets Dazai speak.

“You supervise and teach me how- I promise- I won’t leave your sight. I need this to be safe too.”

The idealistic detective raises an eyebrow, but eventually accepts.

“Great! So we can start now- wonderful!”

“Wha-”

And with that, Dazai drags Kunikida to the agency kitchen. Kunikida’s anger ebbs and fades away as he watches Dazai actually pay attention and put effort into learning. Kunikida drills patience and constant vigilance into Dazai as he teaches. These are essential to cooking on a stovetop. Kunikida’s sure Dazai would even be taking notes if that brilliant brain of his wasn’t storing the information like a computer hard drive.

Once Kunikida has taught Dazai all the basics, he remembers he has a job to do. However, Dazai uses the man’s panic to drag him away again, this time to a grocery store.

“Dazai what are we doing now?” Kunikida groans.

“Shopping!”

“Any other hints?”

“I need to get the stuff so I can teach Kyouka.”

“What stuff?”

"Oh, you know..” Dazai avoids the look Kunikida shoots his way, “stuff! Like pots and pans! And also something to stir with.. and a wisk, and.. other stuff..”

“Are you telling me that on top of your dorm being entirely unfurnished, it is also devoid of cooking utensils?!”

“Ding ding ding!”

‘How have you made it this long?”

“I wonder that very question myself oftentimes.”

“Ugh, shut up, let’s get your stuff, bandage squandering machine.”

“Yay..?” comes Dazai’s weak celebration.

They grab their items, and afterward, Dazai calls her and asks what her plans are regarding food and recipes. She had no idea what to do, so Dazai and Kunikida handled it. Aka, searching for recipes in the car and driving somewhere else to get the ingredients. Once their shopping trip is over, Kunikida finds himself following Dazai to his dorm and setting up. When Kyouka arrives, she doesn’t even question Kunikida’s presence there. She just nods and makes her way inside the barren-looking dorm.

Kunikida doesn’t know why he stays, he ends up helping Dazai teach Kyouka. She’s an excellent student. When their night of cooking is over, Kunikida and Kyouka are cleaning up.

“So what made you want to learn about cooking, Kyouka?”

“Oh, I already know how to cook.”

Kunikida pauses and turns to her, “Then why did I teach you how to cook on the stovetop today?”

“I wanted to get you and Dazai alone together because you have a lot of unresolved tension and it’s getting ridiculous,” Kyouka remarks, “and Dazai really needed to learn how to cook, Atsushi’s getting really worried about it.”

Kunikida binks and processes before he nods, “So you were killing two birds with one stone?”

Kyouka nods this time. Kunikida lets a pleasant silence wash over them, stays back when Kyouka leaves.

“She was scheming to get us together, I’m pretty sure.” Kunikida chuckles.

“Oof, yikes, a little late for that.”

“Perhaps we should have disclosed our relationship to our coworkers when we started dating.”

“Bah, they don’t need to know, besides, it’s still new! We deserve some privacy, neh?”

Kunikida shakes his head, grinning all the while.

—

Kenji is a sweet boy. A sweet, kind, observant boy. He notices when Dazai isn’t doing too well. When his mental health is dragging him through his days. He also notices that Dazai is making an effort to allow himself to be helped. He’s quiet about it, but Kenji can tell. He sees it in the way Dazai agrees to meet up at a restaurant to celebrate a recent case, even though Kenji can see that Dazai is sluggish and would much rather be in bed, sleeping through every bad thought he’s ever had.

A simple conversation with the president allows Kenji to take Dazai with him to the fields. He says it’s because he needs help with the crops. While they could always use a helping hand, Kenji’s real goal is to get Dazai out of his somber routine. Teaching him about the beauty of life and death through farming is the perfect change of scenery! Kenji even got some farm clothes for the lanky man. Which is sort of hard to do when you’re a farmer, because everyone is toned from the labor.

Still! He managed! And the clothes are only a little baggy. Just slightly. Dazai is smart, but manual labor is not his strength, but that doesn’t stop Kenji from praising up a storm! Because really, Dazai is trying hard, he can see it. And while manual labor is important, Kenji knows that applying ones strengths can do wonders to break them out of a spiral. So the blonde farmer asks Dazai to consider using that big brain of his to make the process easier. And it works! Dazai found a much more efficient way to do farming while still getting the satisfaction of doing the work. Dazai learned so much! Kenji couldn’t be prouder. When Dazai returns to Yokohama, he’s brighter, and definitely exhausted from the farm work.

When he returns, he takes a couple of days off. One can imagine Dazai’s confusion when he answers his door and sees President Fukuzawa there with some thick paper, brush pens, and some ink. The silver-haired man is let in, and he asks if he might attempt to do some traditional calligraphy with him. Dazai agrees, and is still quite surprised by the suddenness of it all. He spends the next few hours calmly working next to Fukuzawa, who seems much more familiar with the practice than him. Maybe it’s just a small thing, but the calligraphy isn’t so bad, and perhaps he wants to try more of it, just for the sake of it. So he asks Fukuzawa for some tips. The president offers him a gentle smile, so he guesses he’s doing okay.

[zenitsustherapist]

day two of dazai birthday week ;; suicide

[slight beast spoilers]

[tulipe-rose]

My contribution to the Dazai week 2024→ Day 1

"A good night's sleep isn't so bad sometimes..."

TW: Dazai typical suicide mentions, and sleep deprivation

This will include hcs, a little theory, and a little bit of platonic KuniZai. I deviated a little from the main point for the majority of the fic, but I tried ig TvT

Prologue

Dazai, and sleep.

Their relationship has been strained for as long as he could remember, and while it might not be saying much due to his usually awful memory, it was one of the things he had absolute certainty over when it came to himself.

He had always been a light sleeper, his body refusing to sleep anywhere with a fraction of light, feeling too vulnerable, and exposed, which prompted him to take an abandoned shipping container stationed at the Yokohama docks as a sleeping quarters. His Boss, Mōri Ōgai, tried to offer him a befitting apartment on numerous occasions, but Dazai always turned him down bluntly. Dazai preferred loathed the solitary atmosphere of the container, and found himself leaning towards not owning many material possessions; his suicidal tendancies came hand in hand with a minimalistic nature, since he believed his life would end up falling short in the end. This mindset carried over with him to later years, his current apartment, and over all lifestyle as proof.

Dazai's sleep schedule was mostly controlled by his mood, and assigned missions back in the day, usually dropping himself face first into his pillow after a mission that dragged out for too long, and he was absolutely beat; his naps never exceeded four hours because of either discomfort, or notice of another mission.

During the two year gap between his defection, and employment at the agency, Dazai's paranoia demon haunted him for days on end which prevented him from resting well, further worsening his mentality, and physical health; he ended up collapsing on the spot one day, so he started forcing himself into a sleeping state for just about long enough to keep himself alive.

Finally out of hiding he is, which leads us to now, where Dazai is a new hire at the armed detective agency, a very annoying loveable one to a dear co-worker amongst others at that, bringing his terrible relationship with this body necessity along with him as it presists.

____________________________________

It's been a few weeks since Dazai was hired at the armed detective agency, and since the azure apostle case was resolved. It is another tedious day on the job, or as tedious as it could get in their line of work, and as per usual Dazai is lounging about, doing anything but his job. He is humming tunes to his favorite song, he is reading his suicide hand book, and serving as an ever torturous pain to his co-worker, Kunikida Doppo, and his schedule.

Kunikida, and Dazai have fallen into a routinely set of arguments over the past few weeks that mostly entailed Kunikida punching sense into Dazai that didn't seem to ever reach into him, and the latter throwing back teasing remarks at the bespectacled man, laughing away at his partner's reaction.

Today the agency doesn't have any investigations sent it's way this far, so Dazai, and Kunikida were instead assigned to run a few errands that were pushed aside in favour of more urgent matters this week. The president entrusted them to get them done by the end of today, and Kunikida decided that he isn't going to disappoint, taking it upon himself to whip Dazai into not being a flaming disapointment for once by extension.

Dazai on the other hand was feeling exceptionally drowsy, not really caring much for the task, sleep was too hard these past few days; it was terrible to the point where he couldn't even force it– the blinds weren't enough to block out that detestable bright sign set up by their neighbors across the street. His eyes are droopier than usual, and his eye bags are slightly heavier, which went unnoticed by his colleague, for now. Dazai being himself managed to put up his usual playful, and teasing demeanor despite himself, already plotting ways to take down that wretched banner. Until then, he'll keep himself composed enough around his co-workers until office hours are over, won't be that hard.

After a verbal match between the two, Kunikida managed to get Dazai to finally leave the office.

“Kunikidaaa-kuuun!! I want to stop by the Cafeeee I heard they hired a beautiful waitress there! I need to ask her to a double suicide before someone beats me to it! I have a feeling she's the one~~”

“Have some decency, and stop harassing people!”

“But Kunikidaaa-kuun! It's not harassment!”

“Your definition of harassment is definitely distorted then!”

Dazai continued to give out a series of exaggerated complaints as they walked down the street, loudly crying about how unfair his partner is to him before pausing for a moment to let out a long yawn, much to Kunikida's already peaking irritation.

“Stop causing such noise pollution to your surroundings!! Your complaining is slowing us down, we're already a whole minute off schedule. We need to focus on our next destination–”

“The Cafe?”

“The post office." He gritted out “The president needed us to compose a letter to one of our clients, but she refuses to use technological means, so we'll have it sent the traditional way.”

They got through this errand fairly quickly, even with Dazai's background chatter being headache inducing. Kunikida's veins were a small shot away from popping.

Speaking of, Kunikida noticed something strange about his coworker, how overly chatty he was throughout the day, how back at the office, he'd been spacing out a little longer than usual before they left for their errand run. Kunikida wouldn't have paid it much mind if it weren't for those little moments when Dazai shut up, he was slightly swaying in his steps. Kunikida started observing him closely, noticing a slight change in his complexion, with it written all over his face I didn't sleep for over a week with his eyes being puffier than usual, and other obvious signs of lack of sleep.

Dazai shot him a teasing comment, something about his captivating face, which came out a little lower, and groggier than what he wished for; he exhausted too much energy into keeping himself awake, and it's backfiring on him now. He'd been pressing down the screams of fatigue that were killing him, begging him to just sit down somewhere, and maybe drop dead then, and there. With every step Dazai took, his brain threatened to shut down at any second. He pushed himself to keep it together since they were almost done, and didn't realize that he was falling moments later until it happened.

Kunikida reacted quickly, dropping the documents in his hands to catch Dazai's collapsing figure; his concerns were well placed after all. He pulled him onto his back adjusting the documents under his armpit, walking in a steady pace towards the agency, formulating an explanation in his head, along with plans to postpone the remaining work to tomorrow.

The sun has officially set on arriving at the agency dorms, with Kunikida passing by Dazai's apartment, and realizing he didn't have the key, in favour of not waking him up, the man of ideals headed towards his own home, planning to tend to his colleague, possibily letting him stay the night if he slept in, nothing but concern behind his actions.

Dazai woke up hours later, two hours before midnight, in a dark room, finding himself laying in an unfamiliar futon, an unfamiliar pillow below his head, and an unfamiliar blanket on top of him. He sat up feeling quite stiff, and dizzy, yet miles better from his condition prior to his collapse. His coat was neatly folded at his side, which prompted a small smile on his face. He went to the door, and found it unlocked as expected. He stepped out, and headed towards the living room to find his idealist colleague sitting at the sofa with a small book in his hands.

Kunikida acknowledged Dazai's presence, and looked up at him with a seriously concerned look on his face.

“If you hadn't been feeling well, you could've said something, you idiot. I got sensei to look at you, and she said you'll be fine after some good sleep.”

Dazai smiled sheepishly, and it felt near genuine.

“Would my dear colleague mind hosting me for the night then?”

“Is there something wrong with your apartment? You don't seem to have slept for a good while.”

Dazai was silent for a moment, contemplating his next words, ultimately deciding that the truth wouldn't hurt. He'd be honest this one time because the man in front of him, with his manner of speech right now reminded him far too much of an old friend, but he wouldn't admit it.

“The sign across the street was pretty irritating, I couldn't sleep well because the light kept getting in my eyes.”

“Then I'll see what we can do, you can stay until then I suppose. Don't do anything stupid.”

“Yessir! No promises though.” With a soldier-like salute, and a robotic march to the room.

Kunikida sighed as he watched the man retreat to the bedroom, then picking up his notebook to add discuss the sign situation with the store across the street to his schedule for tomorrow, praying that Dazai would be cooperative since it concerned him.

Dazai meanwhile rested his head onto the comfortable pillow, the darkness surrounding him, the strangely reassuring presence of his colleague, and the comforting quiet lulled him to sleep like a lullaby sung to a baby. The next morning rolled around like nothing, and for the first time in years, Dazai felt refreshed.

“A good night's sleep isn't so bad sometimes...”

---------------------

Sjjdjwdjwb it's finally doneeeee I would've written a mini epilogue/bonus part if it weren't for how freaking late I am. I've never written Kunikida, and I'm bad at writing Dazai, but this mackerel deserves his bday presents. I'm excited to write the romance prompt 🤭.

[bbgdefencelawyer]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BANDAGE MAN !

final day of @dazaibirthdayweek2024 <3

[dazaibirthdayweek2024]

Welcome to Dazai's Birthday Week Event!!

Prompts will be uploaded later today. The Event will start on the 15th and end on the 19th!!!

(Yes Ik two days aren't enough to prepare but this was done on a whim I'm sorry 😭)

Rules:

- Both Sfw and Nsfw allowed!

- Angst, fluff, dark themes, dead dove, and any kind of genre is welcome!!! (Though should be tagged accordingly)

- Go crazy with the pairings!!

- Posts containing proships (minors x adults) won't be reblogged on here!

- Any post dedicated to the event should be tagged with #DazaiBirthdayWeek2024!

- Have fun!! :D

(More rules might be added)

Currently run by @unicornpopcorn14.

[anticidic]

History has come to repeat itself, this time in an uglier fashion: Chuuya tested his luck and dared to bet against Dazai again. And he loses, again. The punishment just so happens to fall on Dazai's birthday, and maybe this time around Chuuya will learn his lesson. Or not.

Birthday present for Dazai. ♡

5,127 words

Explicit

Top Dazai/Bottom Chuuya

[ay-masakali]

Dazai Birthday Week, Day 4

Aaah I got sick and I couldn't function and now I wrote this in under an hour because I had to participate in @dazaibirthdayweek2024

Prompt: Mentorship

Characters: Dazai and Atsushi (not romantic)

Warnings: Atsushi typical terrible self worth, angst

Enjoy!!!!!

“I don’t deserve to live, Dazai-san, I don’t, I don’t.”

Dazai’s not suited for this. Anyone else would do a better job than him.

“Why am I even breathing? I shouldn’t be allowed to breathe.” Atsushi is gasping, air not reaching his lungs, hands trembling between both of them where they’re knelt on the ground. 

The half mangled bodies of their targets are being carted out of the warehouse. Police sirens blare, shrill and headache inducing. Dazai has brought them behind the warehouse, to get Atsushi away from the suffocating darkness.  

They’re not dead. They could’ve endured much worse and survived.

“I don’t Dazai-san, I- I- No, Dazai-san, I don’t have permission I can’t, I can’t.”

The enemy ability user’s shield faltered under their attacks, the Agency having overestimated their strength, Atsushi their spearhead as he often is.

What could human flesh do against claws that rip through abilities?

Dazai tries to shush him but to his horror a teary sob wrenches its way out of the boy’s throat.

It was Dazai’s plan, and it’s Dazai’s fault but Atsushi is in no state to see that. There’s blood drying on his hands and words tumbling out his mouth and each one sends a stab at his heart.

Anyone would be better. But Kunikida is out handling the police and no one else came with them. 

Atsushi’s eyes are glazing over and he doesn’t have time. What would ground him? He hasn’t responded to anything Dazai’s said. He’s aware at least that Dazai is here with him. Pain or shouting are out of the question. No, those would only send him spiralling further.

Simple touch?

It’s worth trying. Atsushi does not expect harsh touches from him. He's always leaned into the softer ones, subtle and unconscious like if he acknowledged it the touch would go away. It has him thinking of another boy, dark hair with white tips. Any physical contact they shared were blows and nullifying taps and he was never one for physical affection but that boy would never expect soft touches from him would he? 

Atsushi's hands have found his hair, tugging and digging. His muttering has turned feverish, he's looking down not talking to Dazai anymore. He acts before the boy's completely lost to his head, he can think about everything later.

He coaxes Atsushi's hands away from his hair, letting them clutch onto his own hand. They still shake, tremors he tries to soothe with gentle strokes. He’s crying now, words unable to make it out of his mouth.

“Atsushi-kun,” he chides and his voice sounds so fond he’d feel sick in any other circumstance. He raises his other hand to wipe the tears mingling with the blood on his face. “That’s no way to talk about yourself.”

He leans into the contact but gives no indication of having heard him.

Dazai feels sick. His hands forever stained with blood, cupping his face with such care when his presence alone should be far far away from someone as pure as Atsushi. His blood infected with Mafia Black shouldn’t be so close to the boy’s skin. Someone who cares so much, cries so freely for these people he doesn’t know, who believes he has to prove himself worthy of being alive.

But he’s all that’s here.

“It’s rather silly isn’t it? Being allowed to live. No one dictates that, it’s only what you wish.”

Atsushi shakes his head, again with the same desperation he uttered those terrible words. “But I’m not. Not until I– No no no no, I’m trying, I’m trying why can’t you see why can’t you see?”

And Dazai knows he’s lost him. He’s addressing someone else entirely, grip on Dazai’s hand crushing, eyes looking beyond him.

So he leans against the wall, pulling Atsushi with him to lie against his front. He wraps his arms around him, one hand carding through his hair the other around his torso. 

The shaking has stopped and that counts for something. Though it’s replaced with chest heaving sobs, his face buried in Dazai’s shoulder, hands clutching his trenchcoat.

Anybody else would’ve been better.

He thinks of Akutagwa and he doesn’t know why his thoughts are straying. He never hugged him like this. Showing such vulnerability would be a weakness. Weakness that Dazai would exploit then and there to teach him a lesson. To never forget and never make that mistake again. After all, weakness in the mafia meant death.

The light is kinder. It lets Atsushi break down with no consequence. It lets Dazai be here, to help pick him up later, build him back up.

The light is kinder. 

Dazai holds him just a little tighter.

There’s another shuddering sob from Atsushi and then in a voice so quiet and small it aches, he says, “I want to live.”

“You will,” Dazai vows. “You will Atsushi-kun. You’ll grow old and get wrinkles and back pain, you’ll get married to someone who loves you. I’ll make sure of it.” 

His fingers tighten in the other’s shirt. His words fall on deaf ears.

Atsushi’s cries die out. He falls asleep soon after.

Kunikida finds them like that, Dazai’s gaze dark, nose buried in the boy’s hair.

Anybody would’ve been better.