#dvzaiosamu
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random post.
No words can't express how much I love bottom Dazai and the fact that Chuuya's hands are bigger than Dazai's. Today I'm sleeping happy only to imagine that.
#dazai osamu#bsd#bungou stray dogs#osamudazai#bsd headcanons#bsd chuuya#chuuya nakahara#dvzaiosamu#hc#bottom dazai#top chuuya
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Recommending Ao3 fanfics — bsd
Yeah, again, recommending fanfics! Just eat them all, I know yall are hungry.
Hope yall enjoy these series and maybe I'll continue to post these.
Circus tent [no ship].
Summary: Dazai had never known how to react. He knew watching well - he watched blood pour out of gunshot wounds, watched Mori slit the Old Boss’ throat, watched Chuuya’s beatific dance of destruction every time it was deemed needed. But that’s the extent of his natural abilities.
Dazai knew only to watch, but never to react. He was not built to interact like that. He was not meant to be anything more than a passing spector, watching the coming and going of mortal lives.
Dazai had never known how to react. But he’d learnt to act. It was necessary, and inevitable. He was a ghost made to puppet mortal flesh, and that meant that one way or another he would be seen and he would affect those around him - no matter how much he detested it.
So Dazai had learnt to act. He wasn’t very good at it. He knew jokes eased social pressure. He knew comedy would help him slip through conversations. And so he fashioned himself a clown. Not a very good one, but a clown nonetheless! His eerie blankness hidden behind an act of jovial foolishness. What a joke! It was the comedy of the century, a true magnum opus! And so Dazai built his circus tent.
Letter for Mackerel — [soukoku]
Summary: I started to come more often, to check on you. I can't see you, hear you, feel you; I can only imagine.
I would like to know that you hear me, that you know how much I hate you for leaving me, and how much I love you to be here more often than I could be when you were with me.
Retrouvailles (Chase me, Love me.) — [soukoku]
Summary: A derived situation of when Chuuya goes down to the attic/torture chamber where Dazai is locked up in chains, detained by the Port Mafia (Anime: Ep9,S1: The Beauty is Quiet Like a Stone Statue), and Dazai tries to gain Chuuya's forgiveness.
Ghost — [soukoku]
Summary: The first time Dazai tried to kill himself with a blade, he was fifteen. He tried other things before, of course; cocktails of pills and carefully knotted rope were no stranger to him. But blades were a new concept entirely, an untapped market he was honestly surprised he hadn’t tried before.
The first time Dazai tried to kill himself with a blade, he didn’t go too far. It was painful. Drops of blood pooled around the cuts and began dripping down his arm. But as much as he yearned for the sweet release of death, as blurry as his vision got from the blood loss, his heart never stopped.
Basically, Dazai's journey with his depression based on the song Ghost by Badflower. Huge TW for self harm and suicide.
A Cloth Heart and the Hands that Sow — [soukoku]
Summary: Forgiveness took time but Dazai would let go of every grudge if it meant he got to be with Chuuya. Soulmates polished through years of half-hearted petty fights and late-night talks, they were molded through each other.
Dazai could never ask for anything more than Chuuya’s hatred but he would worship Chuuya’s love. That was just how they were, stubborn and loving, they waded through the currents of life’s flood only to breathe each other in.
Or
Chuuya and Dazai are so in love it physically hurt, they finally talk about things like normal people let's go(shocking I know)
Or
Soukoku x Somewhere Only We Know by Keanu
Dead People don't come to Life — [dazai]
Summary: “Dazai, i’m serious, do not even dare hang up this pho-”
Ranpo’s blood went cold as he was interrupted by a loud noise.
A gunshot.
Dazai's missing. Normal, right?
Until Yosano receives a bone-chilling call, and the agency is reminded that dead people don't come back to life.
Dead Plate — [soukoku]
Chuuya Nakahara gets a new waiting job at his local fancy restaurant, owned by none other than Dazai Osamu. A chef with incredible culinary skills, though Chuuya isn't a fan of his food.
He's only planning to work there for a week, but what happens when the head chef takes a liking to the waiter?
Or
Dazai Osamu becomes a little too obsessed with making Chuuya enjoy his food, and goes a tad too far...
Skk x Dead plate!!
He was a Sk8er boi, he said annoy you l8r boi — [soukoku?]
Summary: The year?
2003ish.
The vibe?
Fresh off a painful split from his friends, skater boy Chuuya ends up moving in with the weird kid Dazai and his guardian Mori & is thrust into high school with all the teen angst, sexuality confusion, popularity politics, and pranks one might find there. Oh, and that rather mysterious, disturbing past of his comes to light. Only blasting pop punk music will save him.
Meanwhile, Dazai’s suicidal plans have been interrupted by a new toy—dog, boy, whatever—to play with. If only he could stop being an asshole and figure out what these strange new emotions mean.
And then why don’t either of them feel like real human teenagers?
The dynamic?
“Dazai wants to keep him in a cage like a canary—chattering loudly in the corner, pretty to look at, something he could sink his teeth into.” VS. “Chuuya only allows himself a moment of sadness for Dazai, before thinking, He’s so fucking annoying, no wonder he’s lonely.”
And I taste happiness on your lips — [soukoku]
Summary: “I know you like looking at me in the morning”.
He still hasn’t opened his eyes and his voice is still half asleep. Chuuya's heart has grown ten sizes, he has no idea how it can still fit into his ribcage. He doesn’t bother to find some snarky reply to Dazai’s comment - he’s right after all.
“I wouldn’t let you sleep in my bed if I didn't like looking at you”.
“Our bed”.
And that's also true ��� Chuuya can't remember the last time he slept alone, nor the last time he walked around his house without finding traces of Dazai everywhere. Ours.
Happiness, yes, this must be it, there’s no other possible answer.
Once More to See You — [soukoku]
Summary: “…You won’t stay.” Chuuya didn’t lift his head, simply staring idly at the crab patterns on the younger’s shirt.
Dazai closed his eyes with a slow exhale. “Yes. You know why.” He squeezed his hand.
Chuuya squeezed back, eyes brimming with a sadness only preserved for this conversation. “Yeah…I’m sorry, Osamu.”
The brunette didn’t reply, only pulling Chuuya closer and clinging to him tightly.
---
Chuuya and Dazai struggle with hiding their relationship from public eye, especially from their own organisations. A realistic take on how Soukoku's relationship would affect their lives.
Flowers — [soukoku]
Summary: “Most men don't receive flowers until their funeral.”
Was something Dazai overheard grabbing his usual coffee.
His first thought was “Couldn't be me, Chuuya gets me flowers for almost every occasion!”
His second thought was “Has Chuuya ever received flowers?”
Admittedly, never from Dazai though. For all the years they’ve been together, it’s always been Chuuya giving him flowers.
But Chuuya wouldn’t have to wait until his funeral to receive flowers, not if Dazai had anything to do with it.
In the Mirror, I Bloom — [soukoku]
Summary: It twists him, turns him, curls in his chest like something alive, something he knows but can’t dare to name. Chuuya curses the red-black petals that fall from his lips, these nearly rotten things that tear him apart from the inside out. Part of him wants to rip his own traitorous heart out, through a ribcage shattered by feelings he can’t contain.
Anger is easy, a thing he’s learned to control. This— whatever the hell this is— is not.
Or at least it’s easier to feel as though this is beyond his own control, because Chuuya is not in love.
(It feels like a lie even to himself.)
After he's hit by a strange ability, Chuuya is forced to consider truths he'd much rather keep hidden- but not everything is as simple it seems.
Vicious Footsteps — [soukoku]
Summary: "Please don't leave me, don't leave me in this hellhole with him"
"I'm sorry Dazai, I can't stay here any longer. Thank you for everything, I did enjoy hanging out with you but...this is where we part ways."
"Wait!-"
He closed the door on him, hoping he would also eventually look for the light just like Chuuya.
Eventually, 2 years later they reunited again.
Will Dazai forgive him after 4 years of no contact?
a soukoku role-reversal fanfic
Chuuya leaves the port mafia after the death of the flags, but Dazai does not take it well and start to become more obsessive.
It Was All in My Mind — [soukoku]
Summary: Dazai can’t cope with Chuuya’s death or being stuck in the Port Mafia, so he literally goes crazy and finally kills himself.
#bsd#dazai osamu#bungou stray dogs#osamudazai#bsd chuuya#chuuya nakahara#dvzaiosamu#soukoku#fanfic#ao3 fanfic
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Uh, listen up, remember when you guys voted the option for jealous Chuuya hc? Well, I have something to say. I could've posted sooner those headcanons, but I sadly and accidentally wrote for jealous Dazai headcanons, and when I checked again, when I finished the hc, I saw that it was Chuuya, not Dazai.
Basically that's why it took me some short days to post the Chuuya one. Now I have the jealous Dazai hc in my drafts, and since it's rather sad to just let that finished in drafts, I'll post that too right now. Good night!
01/05/24, dvzaiosamu.
#bsd#dazai osamu#bungou stray dogs#osamudazai#bsd chuuya#chuuya nakahara#osamu x reader#bsd headcanons#dvzaiosamu
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IMPORTANT. I'll post the most voted one when I have the time. I'll try to post it as soon as I can!
Correction for the last option: Jealous Dazai headcanons!
#dazai#chuuya#nakaharachuuya#bungou stray dogs#dazai osamu#osamudazai#bsd chuuya#chuuya nakahara#dvzaiosamu
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This is somehow an excuse to make an OC for this oneshot. Not exactly shipping all, nu-uh, the principal ship, of course is Dazai x Fem.Reader, and the OC is going to only have part in well... The mayority of the oneshot.
I hope you enjoy even if I added a random OC in the polt :3 Have fun and remember taking care of you, don't forget drinking water and eat.
Remember. Remembering was having to turn the page and memorize everything that happened to you, and all of that perhaps tormented you in one way or another, your bones felt uncomfortable in your own flesh, as if they had never belonged there. Uncomfortable was another strong word, for you at least.
You were sitting in the dining room of your house, Dazai was in front of you, listening to you talk about your past experiences, and everything was a harmless conversation, as if it were an innocent lie. A new topic of conversation arose and you had no choice but to remember everything you had experienced.
"Do you want to know about that teacher I had?" You echo his question, almost unsure if you heard correctly. Dazai simply nods. "Then I should start with her name. Well, her name was Fiammetta, she was my mentor so to speak, and she was about forty years old, but for some reason she looked younger, like she was ten times younger."
"Fiammetta, eh? What can I say, she must bathe in milk like Cleopatra did," he pauses. "Maybe that's why he was so young."
A small chuckle comes out of you, but you push it away to continue. "I suppose now I could move on to other details. She took me with her in the afternoons, to teach me French and Italian, although I don't think I remember speaking much in any of those languages, it's been many years. She was...wonderfully pretty, although she was only 5'6" at the time, but she had great strength, and that fascinated me when I was smaller."
Dazai took a sip of his coffee, gesturing you to continue.
"She had a peculiar personality, to be honest. My mentor always seemed calm and sweet, although whenever someone disobeyed her, her gaze was menacing although she continued to smile slightly, with her pink lipstick applied lightly to her lips," you explain, although something budged you — you didn't know what, but you knew that she was rather eery.
"She would seem like a scary woman to me, I have to admit," with a finger near his chin he spoke these words. "Is there a particular moment with her that you still remember?"
“Your questions sound like an interrogation,” you roll your eyes and Dazai shrugs. "As far as I remember, yes... There was once a moment I had with her."
You think for a while. Yes, you recall that moment like yesterday.
Time returns to that time and you find yourself in a dark place.
You were in a dark alley, dimly lit by the setting sun. In front of you was a man who, for some reason unknown to you, seemed to be glaring at you. You just wanted to throw a piece of paper in the trash, but that man got tired of glaring at you and approached you, your small figure trembling in fear as he grabbed your arm with unnecessary force and told you that you were a horrible girl. And you didn't unserstand why, most of his words seemed ood, since you couldn't understand half of them.
Due to the commotion outside, Fiammetta heard this and went out to investigate, eyes widening at the sight of an insolent drunk attacking you so brutally. Fiammetta frowned and approached the man without hesitation, grabbing you and pulling you away from him as gently as she could.
She scolded him, she seemed angry. You couldn't understand anything, you had a hard time understanding anything since your ears were ringing continuously. You watched as Fiammetta violently slapped the man, nearly causing her librarian glasses to fall off, kneeing him in the crotch and leaving him on his knees. With a calmer expression, she used the tip of her heel to lift the subject's chin.
"Listen to me, you insolent human being detested by even the worst people in the underworld, don't even think about touching a hair of my students again in your life," Fiammetta threatened firmly, before hitting him with her heel, leaving him agonizing on the ground. A sigh to show a sweet smile before turning to you and walking towards you and grab your cheek gently, you could see her three moles up close, one under her lips on one side, another next to her right eye and another on her neck, the blue makeup that she wore as eye shadow, her long eyelashes and that pink lipstick almost made you forget that a moment ago she almost knocked out a man twice her height. "I'm sorry you had to see that, dear."
You explain all this to Dazai, already tired, resting your head on your arms with a yawn. "And that is..."
He claps his hands for about four seconds with a smile. "Incredible!" A smile rests on his sleepy expression as well.
"We should go to sleep... I really think I'll fall asleep if I keep telling you anything about Fiammetta."
"We should... I agree," he yawns.
Any thoughts on Fiammetta?
(Made this oneshot half asleep, sorry if it's really crusty and poorly done :C)
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Morning, my children. I can't sleep and I don't want to let yall without eating some of my fanfics so I'll pass you my Ao3 fanfic (skk).
I know it has only two chapters at the moment, but something is something... I hope I can post something when I'm done with fucking tests, trust me, I hate having the week full of exams that I need more tham 3 days to study. Watever, when I finish the week and hope to get summer vacations, I'll post oneshots and continue my fanfic on Ao3.
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Damnnnn, tomorrow is Monday, oh my fucking life, I'm going to die in there.
I HATE MONDAYS *internal crying*
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Announcement for the ones who enjoy my stories. Due of personal matters, I'm not going to post really often, but I'm still going to post sometimes when I feel good enough to grab and write. This is only something I want to announce to you guys, since I'm not having time to write, the exams and homework I have are exhausting. I'm not sure If I explained myself well, I'm writing this quite weary, so I hope you guys get it. Thank you all for the support, I'll see you guys soon in the next oneshots. For the moment, I'm taking a break from writing. Goodbye!
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Flowers of dispair (1/2)
"If you failed at protecting your poor body from the bullets, then you can't protect your poor body from the death that's going to hit you harder than a million gun shots."
—Flowers of dispair
Hello everyone! Welcome to another oneshot. This time we'll move to darker topics, so... I suggest awarness of what you will read, this is going to be a quite long oneshot, so I recommend preparing some good music to listen while you read.
Prefered songs for this oneshot are: Karma Police by Radiohead. Exit Music by Radiohead. The Lobotomy by Maebi. Old Doll from Mad Father. I Hate Living by Car Seat Headrest and Silicone by Mono.
"Do you like to see dead people and animals, (first name)?" Someone once said, someone whose name was known to everyone. That person was... Mori, Ōgai Mori.
You refused before and you refuse now. No, you didn't like seeing dead people one bit.
Although your nature and origin almost force you to like it. Life in the Mafia was too difficult for you, and the constant abuse was unstoppable, you still remember old times where through tears you were forced to kill animals with your bare hands, having to be forced to listen to their bones crunch, with their horrible screams of dispair and pain.
What a bitter taste the word despair brought to your mouth. You were desperation, a part of you, you lived in desperation all those years in the Port Mafia. At an early age they would lock you in a room to see how fast you could escape while they released poisonous snakes inside, if that wasn't desperation trying to find the key and open the heavy door, you didn't know what was.
They all looked like monsters, they all took advantage of you, they were all mutts in that organization and you were a trembling cat, all those stray dogs had thirsty yellowed teeth and stains of blood mixed with saliva, and bit and scratched in dispair.
They recruited you as a dog, although in reality you had been a cat all this time, they did not attack you because everyone thought you were one of them, but others did know and they bit you carnivorously with their sharp teeth. You had never felt comfortable in Port Mafia, but you had to hold on even if it hurt. It was despair being a feline surrounded by canines, enemies by nature.
How many atrocities had you been forced to commit in that organization? You don't have the numerical count, but more than a hundred was more than sure. Day after day, you hardly ate for fear that if you gained weight you would no longer be fit for work and then they would kill you like a slaughtered pig and eat it for their next dinner. You were a simple bird whose wings had been cut off, so that it couldn't escape from there even if it wanted to.
Night after night you barely slept, you were afraid of being scolded for sleeping during work hours. Mori scolded you if he saw you sleeping, you were afraid of him. After all, you were a cat in a pack of dogs.
Despair was when Mori chose Dazai to train you. Despair was Dazai, Osamu Dazai.
Even though you two were almost the same age, it felt as painful as if you were a little girl. Despair was when Dazai shot you with a gun so you could use your ability and try to defend yourself. Desperation was when Dazai raised his voice at you, and you, like a "puppy", paid attention to him and trembled looking at the ground, guilty of something that maybe was or maybe wasn't your fault.
You learned to recognize Dazai's footsteps and every time he got closer, you positioned yourself and avoided eye contact with him. You were afraid of him, an internal fear. His physical contact was like needles, it hurt you, both mentally because of the memory and physically because sometimes it wasn't just touches coming from him.
Your training consisted of defending yourself to survive. If you couldn't defend yourself, you ended up dead or almost dying on the ground. Survive was a key word for you, and every time you heard it, it gave you chills thinking about Dazai's words that time, that afternoon in one of your painful training sessions, "If you failed at protecting your poor body from the bullets, then you can't protect your poor body from the death that's going to hit you harder than a million gun shots."
That time you couldn't defend yourself and you ended up with three bullets, one in the shoulder, another in the right leg and a last one in the left thigh. That day you couldn't move, and he didn't do anything to help you, he left you lying in that dark place, which scared you just remembering everything that happened there. You hated dark places.
Everything happened in the dark. In your eyes the darkness was blurry, it didn't let you see the faces of others clearly, nor did you see well the dark blood that formed a puddle beneath you. It was fantastic... It was amazing, Dazai always said. You couldn't tell if his words were sarcastic or genuine, but what you were sure of was that your eyes had always been black and dark, open as if the fear and despair you felt had remained in your stored memory.
May the heavens hear you and save your poor life one day.
Was God even real? Did He heard your pleas this years?
God has forsaken you, everyone left you, you had been taken by the devil, and your soul can't be forgiven.
[TIMESKIP: THREE YEARS LATER. DWELL AGAIN INTO THIS PAST]
The air felt cool on your face. A spring breeze like that was not seen very often. An orange sunset in the blue sky, everything looked too beautiful, it was something you hadn't seen much when you were a child. When was the day you finally saw the light of the sun?
In your hands was a phone, more specifically your phone, which you held like it was no big deal, simply applying force to keep it in your hand. You were looking at message after message and none of them seemed new. You only had four contacts, including your mother, your father, your friend and an unknown number who had discovered your phone number, and you didn't understand how it happened.
You didn't really chat with the unknown person in your contacts, but you didn't delete them either, it was something you didn't understand for sure either, but an instinct told you that maybe you should leave it there, so when that person wants help, you can come and give them your services.
How hypocritical of you. Since you were little you had always distanced yourself and cut off relations with all suspicious strangers; you empathize the word suspicious. Still, here you had someone untrustworthy, with no profile momentarily, still waiting with the two texts at the top of the chat, asking if you wanted to add that number or block them. You never pressed any buttons, but it bothered you to see those annoying texts.
But today you wanted to be a more open and positive person, although this has its consequences and negative connotations, since for some reason you were tired of being happy, you could not hide your true nature: reserved, distant, cold and almost expressionless. You tried hard to show emotions on your delicate face—like porcelain, but it was like if you applied force to it, it would end up cracking until it broke, you didn't want to end up like this.
Life punished you with the horror of looking like an articulated puppet. That's how you lived your life, as if you were in a circus, everything was spinning, colors there, more waves experienced on the other side, paranoia drove you crazy, and for a circus... what better option than an almost crazy person? There you see things never seen before, and what you could do there, apart from being a simple puppet controlled by a puppeteer...
Shaking your head you manage to eliminate horrible memories, with your stomach giving you pain due to nerves, as everything was fluttering it made you feel nauseous thinking about your past, you sigh exhausted from your work and decide to head to a park that is not very crowded, which only seemed to be known to you. You... knew this place when you were younger, even in the mafia. You always went there when you felt overwhelmed by the pack of dogs.
You put one foot inside and step on the wet grass with your shod feet. It looks like it got wet recently.
One sigh is enough to make your mind fly again with memories, whether they are part of your imagination or real. Your mind assaults you.
You sit on one of the benches, your head was starting to hurt, it doesn't help much, you feel your eyes close and you simply support them, lying on the bench, with one hand on your heart, to feel its beating through the fabric of your clothes.
Vzzzt...
You snap your eyes open at the sound. What was that?
Vzzzt, vzzt... Vzzt.
You feel a vibration, yes... it must be your phone, you sigh and pick it up, opening the screen but stopping to look carefully at the messages for a long moment. It was that stranger.
STRANGER.
My, my.
What are my eyes seeing?
I must know you from somewhere, don't you think so?
Why so confused? Look behind you.
You feel your heart sink. Your breathing quickens, but you want and try to think it's just a joke from a stranger, but why would they do that? You leave the messages on read and hesitate for a few moments to process the words. You felt too distressed. With your guard up, yet scared, you turn around sharply after hearing an imaginary sound in your mind.
Nothing.
You sigh, alliviated, you turn back, looking at your hands with wide eyes. Must be something out of your silly mind, maybe it was all in your head—
"Hello..." A shadow appears, creating a silhouetted shadow on the ground, your breathing quickens and you immediately look up, meeting dead eyes, you scream breifly. "Now, now... Don't make a scene."
You start to tremble when his familiar figure enters your mind like an image that always appeared in one of your nightmares. You try to quickly get up from the bench, but his strangely warm hand makes you stop there, with a desperate look, you remain quiet for some seconds.
"Dazai... Dazai... No, no, please, not you," You muttered with a shaky voice, violently pushing his hand away from your shoulder. "Don't touch me, not again..."
"You're still scared, aren't you? Aren't you happy to see me again? So many years have passed and you don't want to smile at me?" He said, with a cold and icy gaze as a straight line was on his lips. His words seemed to have a playful tone, although his face didn't show it.
"After what you've done... I'm not very convinced about seeing you." Your tone of voice seemed to have changed considerably, it became threatening, although in reality it was the same as some lyrics, which coincided with your emotions: I get mean when I'm nervous like a bad dog...
A low whine is heard from you, a product of your nervousness and fear in this present moment. You take three steps back quickly, avoiding his gaze, like those days... Those damn days you hated so much. You were making yourself vulnerable and he knew perfectly well that he had you wrapped around his finger.
"At least you're still the same. How hard is it to get over your little trauma? Tell me... When was the last time you thought about me? I bet you thought about me today, right?" With a malicious smile he approaches again, tilting his head slightly, threateningly, slowly... like a dog when it shows curiosity. Everything... Him, you remember Mori, Dazai looks too much like Mori, and that terrifies you.
"Don't talk to me... Technically I'm not part of the organization anymore, and I don't think you've been living differently for long either," You growl, though maybe for you it was in your imagination, since you were really just frowning. You frown as you slowly activate your ability, trying not to let him notice that you were trying to attack him.
"What a surprise, wow... I'm so surprised," he says, rolling his eyes sarcastically and placing his hands behind his back. "Do you really think that protects you? It's absurd, neither of us belong to the Port Mafia anymore, there is no rule that prevents me from talking or hurting you."
"Likewise, I don't want to see you even in photos—"
"(First name)," he interrupted, his tone cold and firm.
Surprisingly his words still exert a strong control over you, you didn't understand why, but his voice chilled you. You lower your head and your gaze is sadly indignant, but you still obey him. Your fists clench and you really wonder who it was that clipped your wings so you couldn't flee very far. Why do you continue to obey the man who hurt you?
To be continued!
Part two here.
#bsd#dazai osamu#bungou stray dogs#dazai x reader#osamu x reader#osamudazai#dvzaiosamu#flowers of dispair
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Wondering what Asagiri has up his sleeve for the next few chapters.
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Ao3 fanfic recommendations and name ideas por fanfics — bsd
Again, yes... I apologize. I swear I'm not doing more, I'll post in a future, so I don't bother yall with these so much.
It's the same as the other two parts! Only that I'm also giving fanfic name ideas for yall to make wonderful stories. If yall take some name ideas for fanfic, I'd want to take a look at them! Of course, I don't force any of you, but if some of you wish to, you can send me the link in my inbox.
FANFIC RECOMMENDATION.
Dark is the Night — [fyodor x reader]
Summary: Winter, 1942. Stalingrad is no longer a town but a hellscape of destruction. By day clouds of smoke rise from the rubble into the frigid sky, burning and blinding. When night arrives it falls scorching and howling, an inferno of cold. Slow victory is measured not by meters, city blocks or even buildings but by bodies.
Night arrives and you are not sleeping. Neither is he. In the gloom of the shelled warehouse basement, a long narrow room lit only by dimmed lanterns and the occasional meager campfire, his eyes find yours.
A stranger to the squad, but that’s not unusual in the chaos that is Stalingrad. His hair is not close-cropped but dark and lank, falling across a handsome, pale face in which odd magenta eyes glow. His clothing, too, is not standard-issue Red Army but tall soft boots and a dark, fur-trimmed cape. Again, nothing unusual. Here, men do what it takes to keep warm in the brutal conditions.
“Your hat,” he whispers across the narrow corridor from where you are propped on opposite sides, careful not to wake the sleeping soldiers that surround you. He touches his head, drawing your attention to the white ushanka you are wearing. “It looks very warm.”
Summer Watercolours — [fyolai]
Summary: Nikolai paints rocks and hides them around the beach, Fyodor visits during the summer and hates the heat but the colourful rocks catch his eye.
(Prequel to Summer Waves, another fanfic I wrote)
Summer Waves — [soukoku]
Summary: Osamu Dazai leaves for college but never forgets his beloved Chuuya Nakahara.
Prayers of Impermanence — [soukoku]
Summary: As a temple master, he has recieved a lot of strange requests over the years. This particular client is the strangest of them all. After all, why would anyone actually went to be haunted by ghosts?
[or: POV Outsider, Post-Beast. Chuuya wants to be haunted by Dazai's ghost]
If I called your name, would you even answer? — [soukoku]
Summary: After a year of dating and living together, Dazai feels deeply neglected when Chuuya starts spending more and more time away from him.
Could it be that Chuuya is bored of him? Has he found another partner? Or…is it something completely different?
A mask is sinking in the sea fog — [soukoku]
Summary: Cheap cigarettes burn in a blue fog, giving free rein to secrets and sincerity.
For You I'd Catch Every Cold — [fyolai]
Summary: Growing up in the cold winters of Ukraine, Nikolai was unfortunately good friends with the common cold. He absolutely hated getting sick but it was an unavoidable curse that came with living in the northern lands. Even after his chance meeting with the mysterious man known as Fyodor Dostoyevsky, the seasonal flu continued to plague his life. But perhaps it wasn’t as bad as he previously thought-
A sort of ‘through the years’ look at the relationship between Nikolai and Fyodor and their propensity to get sick.
Based on a lovely Tik-Tok by @fruit_chus!
FANFIC NAME IDEAS.
Ceasefire of Hostility.
Sin and Sinuous.
Hot Summer afternoon.
Taste of Heaven.
Death of the Horned Goose.
The Whispering Turnip.
The Mystery of Miss/Mr [character name].
Last Marigold.
Drown the Future.
Flavour of Death.
Prey of the Night.
Cheating will not help you out.
Rain of Iron.
Bite me, Kill me, but don't tell me you're leaving.
If I die, will you be at my grave?
Sing once more that song and I'll cry once again.
Greyed Morals.
It Almost Worked.
Pretty when you Cry.
I've lost myself.
This is how Mother raised me.
I throw up in her Bathroom, but she still Offers me a Drink.
I can't cry when my eyes are already Dry, can you?
Hunting Swirl of the Cirque.
Meat between Flowers.
Bloody Hands.
Silver Corpse.
The Love Empire has Fallen.
Used Knife.
The Twisted Daydream of his Paranoia.
That's all, I hope these fanfic name ideas could help any of you, if so, I would happily read them! You can use the tag dvzaiosamu's place for stories to show me your works!
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dvzaiosamu here with another silly oneshot! This time the theme is about you being easily frustrated and stressed. And the pair today is no other than fem.reader and dazai!
and guess what inspired me to do this? Exactly! Myself, since it happend to me just now, soooo, I just decided to write something about it.
A blue-gray sky surrounds you as you walk on the tiles under the soles of your shoes. The sun hides behind the gray clouds and you just sigh, trying to relax after an event at work. Your (eye color) colored irises are overwhelmed by such memories, but looking at a pair of cats walking next to you distracts you from that thought and you manage to calm it down a bit.
"Everything is going to be okay... I just have to get home," you say to yourself.
As you continued walking, you ran into familiar people, but you kept your head down to avoid them, not because you didn't want to, it was because you didn't want them to see you so overwhelmed. Your steps accelerate and your gaze stays on the ground, you did not dare to look forward, but this action will have consequences—
—THUD.
You bump into someone. You didn't fall, but you took a step back. Your breath catches in your throat and you immediately look at who's in front of you.
"Dazai...?"
"(First name)?"
You spend a few seconds analyzing what happened. Your eyes look into his, but you try to avoid it, even though it's hard and it seems too obvious that you're nervous. The brown-haired young man looks at you with a raised eyebrow and his hands in his pockets.
"Are you okay? You look burdened," he tells you, his tone seeming soft but keeping his distinctive tone in his voice. "Something happened?"
“It's just a normal day at work, it's nothing,” you try to avoid his question, downplaying your problems with a weak, unconvincing smile.
"I can clearly see that something is happening, (First name)…” he sighs, his eyes softening slightly at your figure. “Come on, I'll walk you home and you can tell me what's wrong. I'm sure you'd prefer that to talking about it here."
"Really? No... I don't want to be a bother, you probably have a different destination, I don't want to delay you," you excuse yourself with one of your hands lazily making a gesture as if you were going to reach for something with your hand.
He smiles. "Don't worry, I don't have to go anywhere, I was just walking to my house. I don't mind going to yours if it means you explain to me what happened."
You sigh, giving Dazai the approval that you've given up making excuses. You take a light breath and look him in the eyes. "Alright, let's go."
He smiles back and turns to walk you to your house, which wasn't too far away. It seems that Osamu suspected from the beginning that something was wrong, whether related to your work or not, but he was aware that you were not at your best.
[TIMESKIP]
While you insert your key into the door of your home you feel as if everything is watching you, you become overwhelmed and turn the key in the opposite direction, all because out of nowhere you got into your head and imagined that, you sigh and feel a warm hand on your your shoulder that helps you concentrate. Finally you turn the key and open the door with a CLACK. You open the door and enter.
You close the door behind you and Dazai takes off his shoes, placing them facing the door and taking some slippers that you sometimes reserved for when he came to visit you, then you do the same and during that time you maintain a long silence.
"Now, are you going to explain to me what's wrong with you, belladonna? I can make my hypotheses, but I lack data to conclude," he tells you as you walk with him to the couch.
"You could say that I will try to explain it to you..." your gaze clouds slightly as you remember his words.
"Focus more, (First name) (Middle name) if you don't want me to fire you! Get to work faster if you don't want to lose your position at this job," his boss said this morning in the office with a rough and harsh tone.
You remember that as if you were living it right now, your eyes crystallize and you begin to feel the characteristic obstructive lump in your throat, a few tears accumulate in your eyes as you sit on the couch, Dazai next to you, noticing this and placing his hand on top of yours.
"Take it easy, don't worry, let those tears flow. You can explain it to me later, it doesn't have to be now," he adds.
As those tears slide down your cheeks, a small tremor takes over your body as the power of the salty tears intensifies. You instinctively hug Dazai, surprisingly he wasn't expecting this, but he agrees to hug you tenderly as he closes his eyes.
He allows you to relax for a few minutes, helping you eliminate stress by crying. Your hands grip his body tightly and the heat of his body helps you calm down.
When you manage to recover, you break away from the hug, still even with teary eyes. "Thank you..."
In response you get a small smile, his hands intertwine with yours in a comforting way and his eyes convey to you the tranquility of an afternoon contemplating the ocean while sitting on the sand.
“About what happened… Yes, you were right, something happened, yes, it was while I was working,” you pause to breathe. "My boss scolded me for not working faster and focusing on tasks, e-even though I just... couldn't keep up with everyone else, but I did my best, and I wasn't too far off on time in comparison to my coworkers."
"Don't worry about that, I know you're doing everything you can. Don't take his words so seriously, let the string of your kite break and you can fly high, without worrying about what you left behind," he smiled. "Do not worry, everything will be fine".
You nod your head and his words make a small smile appear on your lips. "Alright, alright."
Now, Dazai stands up from the couch without comment, this leaves you dumbfounded and you can't help but ask, "Where are you going? Aren't you staying longer?"
"I wish I really would stay, dear..." in that period of time he goes to the door and puts his shoes back on, leaving his slippers well placed, sighs and opens the door, but not before turning to you, and he smiles crookedly. "I have a matter to solve..."
"What matter?" You ask, but he just lets out a sound that sounded like a laugh.
He turns towards the door and just walks away, leaving you with a confused feeling on your face.
Where and what is Osamu going to do now?
No answers.
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