#fly high my beloved kunikida

[musicalmoritz]

Spoilers for the new BSD chapter

So I guess we won’t be getting a Kunizai reunion…

I’m genuinely so upset about this, Kunikida was one of my favorites😭 Hopefully it’s another fake out death but idk, the scene looked pretty emotional. Then again Asagiri is allergic to letting characters stay dead…I don’t want to buy into it but I don’t want to get my hopes up either. We lost an icon today

I’m glad I’m not hyperfixated on BSD anymore because this would’ve CRUSHED me back in 2022-early 2023. Kunikida is so funny and relatable to me and I really enjoyed his character arc, especially after reading Dazai’s Entrance Exam. Out of every character he’s like the last one I expected to die but this does feel like a fitting end for his character so I’m not too upset over it. I’m still gonna need those “_______ will live🕯️” cults to pop up tho, it’s what my man deserves

Back to the shipping thing because I’m annoying…ppl who almost exclusively ship Dazai with ADA members, how are we holding up?? Oh well at least there’s still Daran and Dazakiko. Yeah no I’m devastated about this😔

[ethereal-blossom]

Hi, I could ask for scenarios and headcanons for dazai, chuuya, kunikida, akutagawa when they go on missions and their s / o stays home with their child. where the toddler gets a high fever. s / o is very unsettled, bombarding with phones but they don't answer. s / o is a wife, thank you very much☺️😌

a/n: oh, a mix between angst and fluff! i love it ❤ i hope you don’t mind that i split the request in two 🙈 i changed my scenario limit to two, because they take longer to make than headcanons. i decided to make an ada part and a pm part. i hope you enjoy part one🦋 part two

🚨warning(s): slight angst

masterlist

dazai: 0.9k+ | kunikida: 0.8k+

dazai could feel his heart beating in his throat, but not for the reason you would expect from a man who was the target of fire shots. kunikida and him being surrounded by armed men wasn't dazai's biggest concern in the slightest. instead, they were obstacles.

dazai's phone rang again for the fifteenth time in the last few minutes. he could feel it vibrating in his pocket, yet your phone calls had never been this much out of reach before.

it was a rare thing for dazai to feel distress during missions, but this was the exception. the image of his sick baby girl haunted his vision and dazai lowered his head. he had observed how tired his daughter looked before leaving: there was no doubt in his mind that you were calling him about your angel.

nevertheless, dazai had no choice but to go on the emergency mission after the president himself had called him. before he went, dazai had asked you to call him if things escalated. the only thing dazai desired at this very moment was to go home to his wife and daughter.

the bullets flying around his head weren't allowing it though.

the mission continued for another halve hour. that were thirty minutes filled with worry. the phone calls and the messages had stopped for now. however, dazai couldn't figure out if it was something to be relieved about or not. it was one of those peculiar moments in which dazai couldn't predict what had happened, mainly because of the white panic that blinded his mind.

kunikida opened his mouth to speak to his partner, but he changed his mind quickly after seeing the look on dazai's face. "what's wrong, dazai?"

"y/n tried to contact me." it was the only thing dazai could say at the moment. his phone was stuck to his right ear and your panicked voice made his heart go numb. announcing that he would leave immediately, dazai rushed back home to you and your daughter.

now it was his time to call you. 

___ 

dazai stopped before your house. he allowed himself for a few seconds to control his breath and then entered your house as the calmness itself.

it was a relief you had picked up the phone when dazai tried to reach you. only you would have sensed the panicked tone in dazai's voice, which is why you had immediately ensured him that everything was okay.

dazai followed your voice that came from the bedroom of your little monkey. the girl spotted her father straight away and called out his name. her opened arms welcomed the tender figure of her dad's body.

a sigh of relieve left your lips when you saw how tight dazai hugged your daughter. everything was okay. you looked at dazai who was kneeling in front of his daughter. his facial expression radiated calmness, but you could tell something was off. "how are you feeling, little monkey?" dazai asked his daughter.

"i was feeling really sick! but mommy took care of me," she replied and then she pouted. "i'm really tired though."

the next few minutes dazai was asking questions about what happened: which symptoms she experienced, how she was feeling now, what you did to lighten up the symptoms- he tried to remember everything what mori had told him about the human body and its illnesses. relieve washed over your husband once he realized that everything was indeed fine. "mommy is going to get a glass of water for you, okay?" dazai looked at you from the corner of his eyes. you responded with a nod and left the room.

dazai kissed his daughters hairline and she giggled. however, his lips tingled. a fever indeed. dazai cupped his daughter's burning cheeks and caressed her skin with his thumb. he looked her in the eyes, her mother's eyes. and she was just as strong. "you're doing so well, monkey."

when the little girl drank the water you had brought to her, her eyes slowly closed, a peaceful look painted on her small face.

"i'm sorry for bombarding your phone. i knew you were in an emergency, but... i was really worried about our sweetheart."

"there's no need to apologize, love. you handled the situation wonderful. i couldn't have been more proud of the both of you."

dazai grabbed your hand and the both of you watched over the little girl that had stolen your hearts. the troubled restlessness finally washed away with the sound of your daughter's soft breathing. nevertheless, the instinct to protect his family still lingered through dazai's whole body. "i should have predicted this. i should have taken action earlier."

you tightened your grip on his hand. “don’t be too harsh on yourself, dazai. you handled this situation wonderful. i couldn’t have been more proud of you.” 

dazai looked at you with his head slightly tilt. he couldn't help but smile. you had used his own words against him. how cruel, how smart, how touching. he paid attention to your calming orbs that had kept him grounded for as long as he had known you. dazai's lips were on yours in an instant. his lips moved tender yet intense against yours. the way he loved you...

surprisingly, it was dazai himself who broke of the kiss. he rested his forehead against yours. there was only one thought running through his mind at that specific moment: he would always protect the two most important women in his life, whatever it takes. 

the sun was standing at the top of the sky when kunikida looked at his perfect schedule.. well, it was supposed to be perfect. surprisingly, it wasn't dazai who was the cause of this ruination. the mission was supposed to be simple yet it had taken three hours and 35 minutes instead for the planned one hour and three seconds. this was a disaster. kunikida tried to control his breathing, tried to convince himself he could fix this tragedy. he grabbed his pen and started to mumble while organizing his chaotic schedule.

however, he was soon interrupted by his partner. "what, dazai? we are two hours and 40 minutes behind and if you don't....... HOW DID YOU GET MY PHONE?" kunikida was ready to waggle his way towards dazai, to steal his phone back and to show exactly how punchable dazai's face looked. would he lose precious time? yes. but he couldn't let this slide.

"ow, kunikida. where's the trust in the most trusted detective from the agency? besides, you dropped this during the mission." dazai's clown behavior disappeared like snow in the sun when he continued. "y/n tried to contact you multiple times. i think it's serious."

dazai blinked for a moment when his hand was suddenly empty. kunikida had to remind himself to breath, to not let the worry get to him. he had to keep his head cool. then why was his heart beating so painfully in his chest?

kunikida was sure he yelled something at dazai- probably that his partner should have mentioned this sooner - but he didn't have the time to care about anything else than the reason of your phone calls. were you and your son okay?

he listened to your voicemail, but it wasn't able to calm him down. in contrast, it was like oil thrown on fire.

his son had a high fever. kunikida's voice sounded on edge when he said: "you have to work without me today, dazai. my family needs me."

____

kunikida tried to reach you, but it was no use. you had sounded so panicked over the phone- it made him run faster. your husband stormed into the house, immediately asking where you were.

"i’m here." your raw voice came from the living room. kunikida was met with two of the most important people in his life lying on the couch. The redness from your eyes and cheeks told him that you had been sleeping. did that mean-? 

kunikida moved over to you as fast as he could and knelt down next. his sight focused on the toddler in your arms. he was still peacefully asleep. kunikida put a hand on his son's head, then a kiss and felt the hotness radiating from the touch. suddenly, your husband couldn’t wait any longer and asked every single question that was on his mind. 

“it’s okay, doppo. the fever decreased after i had tried to contact you. i gave him some medicine, water and i checked in on him multiple times. why didn’t you pick up your phone though? that’s nothing like you."

the rope that had cut into kunikida’s lungs finally loosened up. he started to explain how he lost his phone while his schedule was getting slowly ruined. "and this time it isn’t dazai to blame?" you joked. 

"i have to process it, too.” your husband had, without realizing it, been stroking the arm of his son with his thumb. you couldn't tell if he did it to comfort his son or himself. nevertheless, kunikida said shortly after that he would bring your son to bed.

you agreed and took the time alone as an opportunity to calm down and progress what had happened today. a sigh left your lungs. this was peaceful.... okay, too peaceful. how long is doppo taking?

you walked over to your little bean's bedroom, deciding to check out where the men you loved the most were hanging out. your heart practically melted when you entered the room.

kunikida was lying next to the small boy. however, when you looked closely, you were met with wide open grey eyes. experience told you that the haunted look on your husband's face wasn't caused by only the high fever of his beloved son. "what is bothering you, doppo?"

"my ideals. you tried to contact me when you needed me and i wasn't here. what would have happened if the fever didn't decrease? what if it has escalated and i wasn't here to be there for you and our son?"

 you grabbed his hand and kissed the top of each of his fingers. red blushes appeared on kunikida's cheeks and his eyes were now widened for different reasons. "then i would have handled it, with or without you. i know you had a tough day, love. i don’t blame you for anything. you shouldn’t do, too. i love you and you are here. that’s all that matters, right?” 

you grinned. oh, that color of red on kunikida's cheeks was definitely a new and deeper type of red. his love for you was overwhelming, and he couldn't wait to show you how much.

[manako-no-yami]

when life begins at a grave

Rating: G Relationship(s): Past Odazai, DazAtsu Tags: First Dates, Fluff and Angst Summary:

A first date, but not a first love. Dazai says goodbye, and then hello. Sometimes, it’s better to let go.

for @dazaimultishipweek2019​ day 2!

-

Dazai closes his eyes, breathing in the scent of sea brine and leans back against the coolness of a familiar gravestone. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine that someone else is there, sitting next to him in comfortable silence.

“Did you know this would happen?” he asks, quietly.

Did you know what I would find, over here, on the other side?

There’s no response.

His smile turns wry.

“You must’ve.”

In the end, even I couldn’t have won against you, he thinks to himself.

After all these years, even with all of his cunning, even in this tired and hackneyed world that feels like spinning in circles around and around and around again...people still find ways to surprise him. There is still yet wisdom that is out of his reach. Things that even he, with all of his wretched intellect, has yet to learn.

The joys of being alive, eh?

It is quiet here, except for the distant sound of waves breaking and seagulls.

“This is what you would’ve wanted, right?”

A familiar ache settles in his chest, a wound he continuously scratches open, a pain that he clings to if only to never forget.

He thinks fondly of rough stubble beneath his fingers, straw-like hair the color of burnt sienna, and large, calloused hands on his own. A breeze brushes by and shifts the shadows of the tree above him; a patch of sunlight settles on his shoulder. The warmth is like that of an old friend’s hand.

Go, it whispers. Go to him.

How selfless. How cruel. How cruelly selfless a thing it is, love.

He doesn’t deserve it.

He stands, one hand trailing along the edges of the gravestone.

That painful ache echoes inside the locked chambers of his chest, and he lingers, for just a second longer than he knows he should.

But it’s time.

Reluctantly, he turns to leave, and that same breeze pushes him along, at his back.

 .

The warm light of the setting sun catches on Atsushi’s silvery hair. He’s smiling—gently, fondly. Not for the first time, nor for the last, Dazai thinks he has done nothing to earn such a thing, so freely given.

“Atsushi-kun,” he greets, and is surprised at the affection in his own voice.

“Dazai-san,” Atsushi greets back, and his glow intensifies, ever-bright.

When Dazai returns his smile, Atsushi looks away, flustered. Dazai wonders what he must’ve seen on his own face, to have gained such a lovely reaction. Boldly, he leans forward, and tucks a wayward piece of hair behind the shell of Atsushi’s ear, lingering for just a moment to feel the way it burns as he blushes beneath his touch.

Precious. Unbelievable.

Atsushi is like the morning dew collecting on the petals of a lily, but with all the strength of the tiger hidden within. His will to live burns like a star, whose light outlives even its own death.

So different from the quiet strength and contemplation he once found comfort in. Worlds apart from the bewildered indulgence that once humored him. And yet—they’re so similar in their silent, unwavering drive towards an ambition so mundane it hurts.

How strange it is, this remarkable living while striving for the ordinary.

But you aren’t him, a part of Dazai admits.

“D-Dazai-san,” Atsushi repeats, “why have you called me here?”

Dazai blinks.

“Well, isn’t it obvious?”

Atsushi tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

“I’ve called you here for our first date!”

“Ah, I see—wait, what?”

Atsushi splutters, hands coming up in some half-aborted motion as he looks around him wildly in panic.

“W-what? ” He repeats.

His delayed reaction is so colorful , so full of life, so uniquely Atsushi that Dazai can’t help but smile and let out a laugh.

You are so different, Dazai thinks. Even as laughter bubbles up his throat, his chest continues to ache. You are so different from him.

He hums, locking his fingers together and resting his chin upon them.

“It’s just as I said. You better mark the date down, Atsushi-kun. We’re on our first date.”

“Since when? You? Me? Wha—How did you—?”

Dazai doesn’t bother to hide his glee, kicking his feet beneath the table like a little kid.

“You’re so cute, Atsushi-kun.”

“Dazai-san!” He sounds scandalized, and at this point he’s so red he looks as though he’s a second away from passing out. “Please don’t play tricks on me…”

That vulnerability that Atsushi always carries with him, a beating heart sewn on his sleeve, makes itself known.

No one else Dazai has had the privilege of knowing has ever been quite as vulnerable, nor quite as resilient, as Atsushi is in moments like these.

Dazai makes sure his voice is soft and sincere. Gentle, in a way he didn’t know he had in him to be.

“This isn’t a trick, Atsushi-kun. What kind of senpai would I be, leading my cute little kouhai on like that?”

The way Atsushi's mouth parts in a soft ‘o’, the way his eyes glimmer with hope, the blush riding high on his cheeks—the way he immediately accepts his words, with an infinite well of trust—Dazai makes sure he memorizes it, brands it into his mind. He wants to preserve this moment forever, tuck it into his wallet. He wants to talk about it after they’ve gone on their twentieth, thirtieth date, reminding Atsushi of how flustered he’d been, how adorable. He wants to be able to bemoan the fact that Atsushi won’t remain this shy and sweet once the novelty of their relationship wears off. He wants their familiarity to grow, to bloom.

 .

He wants to tell his best friend about it. They’d get on like wood and fire, he and Atsushi. They’d get on like whiskey and late nights. Like children and storybooks.

He stretches his arm across the table, palm up. Atsushi looks down at it, then back up at him, and then carefully slides his fingers across his, trying and failing to hold back a small smile.

He suspects that, given a little time, Atsushi will be the one leading their relationship, that once he gains confidence he’ll be the one demanding things and keeping him in line. Pushing him forward.

He finds that a part of him can’t wait.

(And yet, another part of him still holds back, wishes to stay in the past. Unwilling to let go.)

Atsushi startles like a frightened mouse as Dazai gets up and sidles into his side of the booth.

“W-What? What is it?” He shrinks away.

“Nothing,” Dazai says, pleasantly. “I just decided I wanted to sit next to you.”

He allows himself a moment to enjoy this, gently teasing Atsushi and watching the way he squawks with indignation at his theatrics.

“Ah! But Atsushi-kun!” Dazai fake-swoons, watching for Atsushi’s reaction out of the corner of his eye, “Could it be? That you feel a deep, burning passion for me, your beloved senpai? What would Kunikida-kun say?!”

Atsushi’s face, much to Dazai’s amusement, immediately morphs into an expression of exasperation. He also relaxes, the jitters flying away as they slip back into their usual banter.

“Excuse me?”

“It must have been so difficult for you! To have been so charmed by my dashing self, to pine day in and day out, to hope so dearly that your feelings would be returned…” He languishes dramatically upon cheap vinyl upholstery.

“Dazai-san...” Atsushi pinches his nose, “please shut up. The other patrons are looking.”

“Ah, but fear not!” Dazai yells, purposely raising his voice. “I am here to confess! Your hopes have been fulfilled, A-tsu-shi-kun! Your burning passion is all but matched by the flame that smolders within my very own breast!”

“You can take your confession elsewhere, Dazai-san, I don’t want it anymore.”

“Oh? ‘Anymore’, you say? Meaning you did want it at some point!”

Atsushi groans.

“Please don’t remind me of my past mistakes, Dazai-san.”

As the night goes on, he watches for the way Atsushi hesitates before carefully leaning his head upon Dazai’s shoulder, feels the way Atsushi’s hair tickles his neck when he leans closer to listen when Dazai lowers his voice to just above a whisper.

By the end of the day, Atsushi has relaxed, belly full of food and laughter.

I did that, Dazai marvels, when he catches sight of Atsushi’s delighted smile.

“Dazai-san…” Atsushi starts.

“Hmm?”

“Does this mean we’re…that we’re…”

“Boyfriends? Dating?”

Atsushi nods, suddenly looking very small.

“I’d like that, yes. If you would, too.” Dazai says.

He keeps his tone light, nonchalant. Hides his own uncertainty behind that same mask he’s always used—the one that might as well have been made of glass for all it hid from his first and only friend, if only because that friend had had a mask of his own.

Atsushi has no such mask. He doesn’t suspect a thing. He just...accepts the words, as they are.

It’s gotten late now. The moon rises above the metropolis, her glow muted by the city’s light pollution.

“Have you…done this before?”

Atsushi’s expression is open, easy to read. Uncertain, indecisive, afraid. Hopeful. Kind. Trusting.

And his question shatters through every layer of carefully constructed composure that Dazai had. He swallows, and struggles.

This power, this naked honesty, this bare earnestness with which Atsushi wields his unassuming curiosity, is a force that Dazai cannot reckon with. It’s something that none of his experiences could have prepared him for.

It’d do you some good to get used to honesty, the ghost says.

You’re right, Dazai thinks.

But acknowledging it doesn’t make it any easier.

“…There was someone else, once,” Dazai says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “But, no. Between the Port Mafia and the agency, no. I’ve never been in a serious relationship before, though I’ve been on a few dates in the name of gathering intel or for a mission. You?”

Atsushi relaxes a bit, and thankfully, doesn’t ask.

“You already know the answer to that, Dazai-san.”

“Ah, but you see, I don’t. A cutie like you? Single his whole life? Preposterous!”

“Oh, stop.” He flushes again, but a pleased smile lights upon his lips. Besides that date with Kyouka, he’d never been in a relationship either.

So this will be new for both of them, then.

Dazai lets himself relax a little, ghost settling back in his bones.

See, that wasn’t so bad, was it, the voice whispers. You can trust him. You can open up to him, if you wanted to.

But it will hurt, he argues. It will hurt, because you never needed to ask any questions to know their answers, and it will hurt because you won’t be there.

There’s a pause, a comfortable lull in their conversation. They’re only a block or so away from the agency dormitories when Atsushi speaks up again.

“Can…can we hold hands?”

Dazai’s steps falter for a moment. He hadn’t expected Atsushi to be so brave as to ask, this first night.

“Of course.”

Their hands brush once, then pull away, as though they were both surprised at the feel of another’s skin, before coming back together, fingers linking messily. Atsushi’s smile glows in the moonlight. Dazai has to stop himself from gulping, barely catching himself before his feet could fumble beneath him. It takes him a second to remember to smile back, but when he does, he’s rewarded with another blush, and a returning clench of their hands.

They stop outside of Atsushi’s room, loathe to part.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Dazai-san,” Atsushi says, at last.

“See you, Atsushi-kun.”

When Atsushi has disappeared back into his room, Dazai lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Well, that went well enough, didn’t it?”

No one answers him, of course. After all, there’s no one there. No one and nothing but a gentle breeze, blowing back his hair with a gentle sigh.

And yet, he chuckles out loud anyway. Perhaps, just for his own benefit.

 .

It’s so strange. After a lifetime of solitude…he doesn’t feel alone anymore. It still hurts—he suspects it will always hurt—but the ghost that had haunted him has finally been laid to rest. The voice in his head is quiet, and in the silence is something like sorrow. Something like sorrow, and acceptance.

It’s like the smile you wear as you wave goodbye to a friend. A very old, and dear friend.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Thank you, Odasaku.

Thank you, and goodbye.