FOR INJEONG ON A03
This is the first entry in this swap-fic thingy I've started! I was not going to start any more long fics at this point, but as I hit three thousand words on this, I realized that it wasn't going to happen with this particular one- I was really inspired. I won't share the prompt I got from Injeong yet, since this is only the first part!
If you want to partake in this fic-swap, I'll leave the info at the end!
As usual, everything went to shit the second it turned out to be connected to Dazai's past in the Port Mafia. It didn't matter how insignificant it seemed to be; an informant who knew about his shenanigans back then that demanded money to keep his or her lips shut, another botched cooperation between the two rival groups or a seemingly random cat that tended to stay around at bar Lupin that suddenly came back to haunt him years later. As long as it had anything to do with the Port Mafia, it would unavoidably end in disaster.
And 'haunting' was kind of the word of the day.
The day started like any other mission-day at the Armed Detective Agency. Atsushi overslept, Kunikida was verbally and/or physically assaulting Dazai for an ill-timed suicide joke, Kenji watered his vegetable garden, Ranpo ate himself queasy on candy and Naomi kept inappropriately groping her (supposedly*) older brother. Hopefully, they would have time to go over their strategy before heading for the cars that would take them to where everything was going to go down.
At first, the majority of the agency had some difficulty taking this mission seriously. The reports they had gotten, apparently from people with no obvious correlation to each other, had seemed impossibly unlikely. They spoke of seeing deceased loved ones roaming around town. Once they had approached them to confirm that they were nothing but an illusion, they would be shocked to find out that they were in fact far from it- they were real. They would recognize them and be happy to see their friends and family again, wholly aware that they had died and come back to life.
More and more similar cases made their way to their desks. The clients claimed that their walking deads told them about an ability user that had the gift of making blank canvases come to life and summon restless spirits that still had unfinished business amongst the living, merging the two into a perfect replica of the person that had passed on, complete with appearance and mind.
Nobody had actually wanted to report the instances. They wouldn't want to stop what they saw as miracles from happening to more people. They were just happy they had their loved ones back and wanted to continue their lives together with the missing pieces that had left their families incomplete.
But, as with everything that seems too good to be true, this would end up in a ghastly morbid catastrophe.
With each and every case, the same scenario had unfolded. On the fifth day after getting their loved one back from the dead, they would wake up in the morning to a rotting corpse in the bed where their loved one had gone to sleep the night before. A corpse that seemed to have deteriorated for the appropriate amount of time for a corpse that had been left unattended since the time the person had originally died.
Needless to say, that had prompted them to seek the agency's help immediately.
It was a perplexing case, that triggered excitement and dread for most of the Agency members. Most of them were already sufficiently haunted by the ghosts of their pasts and had enough with being visited by them in their nightmares. They wouldn't want to have to deal with them coming back to life as well, no matter if it was on borrowed time.
Only Dazai seemed to be unable to settle into the tense air that suffocated the atmosphere in the car. He groaned loudly about "What is even the point of seeking sweet relief in death if I can simply be brought back by some maniac with an ability," whining loudly about his newly found existential crisis, now that his entire life-goal turned out to be a huge sham. At least he seemed uncharacteristically highly motivated to stop the culprit.
Closing in on the supposedly abandoned storage facility the offender had been reported to work from, Dazai leaned over to Kunikida's driver seat, lingering right by the idealist's shoulder.
"Do you think this guy's ability would work on me if I was dead? Maybe I could kill myself, and he could bring me back every time until I've successfully attempted all the different methods from my book."
Kunikida gnashed his teeth together and held in a current of expletives that wanted to spill out from his lips. Dazai took the lack of response as permission to continue and beamed obnoxiously.
"There's just so many exciting possibilities, you know. But some of them are so effective that there's no way I could try them all without ruining any chances of trying the others. Maa~ so much fun to be had, such high fatality!"
"Can you please shut up," Kunikida growled dangerously, forcibly calm but convincing no one.
The incomprehensive and empty look Dazai shot him through the rearview mirror was what provoked him and pushed him over the edge. He let go of the staring wheel in favor of grabbing ahold of Dazai's bolo tie and pulled him down between the two front seats, tightening the string of the tie, efficiently suffocating the ever-bandaged man while screaming about his uselessness.
"Kunikida-kun can finally fulfill his deepest desire~ kill me! Crazy-scientist-san will revive me and Kunikida can kill me again!" Dazai croaked happily as Yosano's arms pulled the men apart.
"Shall we keep at least one pair of eyes on the road, four-eyes?" she deadpanned tiredly, before shoving Dazai floppily back in the backseat. Kunikida abruptly returned his attention to the road ahead, just as they were about to miss their turn.
The wind along the coastline was frigid on this autumn day. Dazai wrapped his coat around him tightly and contemplated if maybe he should try to gain some weight before the winter as they exited the cars in front of the large warehouse.
This case made him strangely nervous. The concept of raising people from the dead didn't sit right with any of them, but he highly doubted that any of the others had put as many potential zombies in the ground as he had. Not even Fukuzawa in his past as Mori's right-hand man.
A zombie apocalypse was one of those things he'd always thought sounded fun in theory (and he kicked ass in Resident Evil Deadly Silence on his DS), but he simply didn't feel like killing the same people twice. It defeated the purpose of this whole, living his life in the light , thing. There was also this weird feeling in his gut he had had ever since he first heard about this person. Dazai was sure he had never come across anyone with an ability like that (cause if he had, Mori would have been all over the guy- a literal army of darkness? Just up the Port Mafia's alley), and yet, he hadn't been that surprised when the reports started piling up.
...maybe he had known someone with a power similar to that?
Kunikida quickly drew up a boltcutter in his notebook and broke the lock tp the large storage facility. It slid out of the henges with a loud thud. They proceeded by opening the doors, Kunikida sliding open the right one and Atsushi getting the left one.
They entered and started down the long halls. The inside was like a labyrinth. Hallway by hallway of large locked doors.
"Do we know where he's supposed to be, or are we just going to walk around blindly?" Dazai asked with disinterest, folding his arms behind his head.
Ranpo pulled a large piece of paper from his pocket and folded it out.
"According to the blueprints, the building is three stories, about 50,000 square meters. The larger storages are downstairs, so I suggest we start there."
Kunikida nodded curly and lead the way. The group took the elevator to the basement. As they exited the cramped lift, they were met with complete blackness. They could hardly see from one end of the room to the other in the shuttering dark.
"Atsushi, would you mind looking for a light-switch?" Kunikida asked, well aware of Atsushi's superior night vision. The young were-tiger affirmed the command and started tracking along the walls.
Dazai took a couple of steps into the room. The energy was different down here. The temperature was cooler, and it smelled old and dusty. Each step he took made the echoes bounce between the walls. Something across the large open space made a noise- as if a door was being shut.
The heads of all five agency members left snapped towards the sound. Kunikida raised his hand, signaling for them to halt. Fumbling along his waistline, he quickly retrieved his gun and waved for them to back him up.
Dazai frowned slightly. It was odd, but something pulled him in the other direction. The hallway opposite to where the sound had come from, but he reluctantly followed along.
A few faint clicking sounds were heard before Atsushi returned. "The light switches don't work. The power is probably cut down here."
"Makes sense. This building hasn't been in use since the owner died nearly 7 months ago," Dazai murmured thoughtfully. "All though, our culprit might benefit from raising him from the dead and make him pay the power bill," he added with a cheeky grin.
The joke didn't seem to land.
The air appeared to grow thicker as they moved quietly through the narrow hallway, passing storage units and dark, nearly black sideways, following the muffled sounds that kept roaming subtly through the facility. After walking for what felt like hours, they stopped. They had reached a dead end.
Another muffled sound came from inside the unit closest to them and Kunikida pointed out everyone's positions and got ready for entry.
For a while, he struggled to recover a usable lock cutter from his notebook- it was impossible to get it right in the pitch darkness and tensions grew amongst them.
A loud slap made everybody jump and instantly they turned towards the sound.
Dazai stood, rubbing his neck with a sheepish grin. Kunikida shot him an angry glare and mouthed the word "what?".
"Mosquito," Dazai apologized in a whisper, shrugging while still scratching his neck. A collective sigh, a mix of irritation and relief, ran through the group of detectives and they turned their attention back to where Kunikida was fumbling with the lock.
Dazai kept massaging his neck. The prickle on the side of his throat stung fiercely.
In front, Kunikida was finally able to break the lock and he gave a signal for the rest of the team to get ready to immobilize their culprit as he slid the door open in one quick motion.
They all burst into the room, guns raised and senses sharpened, ready for anything. The room was dark and still- Tanizaki quickly shone his flashlight around, revealing nothing more than old furniture and dust-snowflakes brushing across the room.
"What-" Kunikida started as a bat flapped from the roof and escaped the room. They kept still, watching the orb of light darting back and forth, covering every single inch of the room.
"Retreat," Kunikida said grimly, and they turned around and backed out.
"Dazai-san, do you have any ideas," Kunikida started.
No one answered.
Everyone turned around, searching their surroundings. Grabbing the flashlight from Tanizaki, Kunikda shone it down the hallway, where it finally settled on a crouched form further down.
"Dazai-san?" he asked again, closing the distance between them wearily. "Are you okay?"
Still, no answer came. The beige-clad shoulder's seemed to shake, and finally, Dazai stepped back nearly knocking himself over as he steadied a hand across the wall to help himself stand up.
"Mmh… Yeah, I'm fine," he croaked, wiping a bandaged covered arm across his mouth. The flashlight shifted to where Dazai had been bent over, revealing a puddle of acidic bile.
"Are you sick?" Kunikida inquired pointedly, scowling at Dazai as he brushed past him, still not completely steady on his feet.
"Maa~ Kunikida-kun, I'm moved by your concern." He cleared his throat before his voice turned slightly more serious. "But really, I'm fine. I guess I overdid breakfast," he smiled obliviously.
Kunikida had clearly seen that whatever he had thrown up had not been indigested food, but he decided to choose his battles. They had more pressing matters at hand at the moment than if the bandage-wasting maniac had or had not eaten breakfast.
Turning back around and facing the rest of the team, Yosano had crossed her arms and was scowling at the two of them intently. Dazai seemed oblivious to her shift in demeanor, but Kunikida raised his eyebrows questioningly.
"What is it, Yosano-sensei?" he sighed, brushing an exasperated hand through his hair.
"Dazai, would you do that again?" she asked, narrowing her eyes curiously.
"Do what?" the brown-haired asked, eyes large and owlish, tilting his head.
"Brush past Kunikida again."
Dazai arched his eyebrows in confusion, looking back at Kunikida, who looked just as perplexed as he did.
"Why?"
Yosano sighed tiredly. "Just… Dazai, would you... slap Kunikida, please?" Her arm waved nonchalantly into the air as she spoke. Before Kunikida had time to object, an evil smile was tugging at Dazai's lips and he raised it hand and slammed it across the taller man's cheek.
"What in the world was that for?" Kunikida spat angrily, holding his reddening cheek and immediately slapped Dazai right back with his opposite hand.
"Aii~ Kuunikida-kun, I was just following Yosano-sensei's orders," Dazai sulked pathetically.
The doctor ignored their whining and pointed towards Kunikida's pocket. "Did you not get those bolt-cutters using your ability?" she inquired deliberately.
"Yeah, so?" Kunikida glowered back a second before it hit him. Albeit this time, it was not Dazai's palm.
"Then why-" Yosano started, but let him finish the thought himself.
"-didn't it vanish?"
Everyone turned towards Dazai who was still sulking over his slightly swollen cheek. Once he noticed the examining stares at him, his hand faltered and he stared back.
"...what?"
Resting his chin between his thumb and index finger, Kunikida came closer to him. Dazai quickly covered both of his cheeks with his hands and cowered slightly.
"Can you hold this for me?" Kunikida asked casually and handed him the bolt cutters. With empty eyes, Dazai caught the large utensil and stared at it incomprehensively. For a moment, no one said anything- they just observed as Dazai held the ability-created tool in his hand, counting seconds before Dazai would realize what was going on.
"Wait, what?" he exclaimed finally and dropped the device to the ground as if it had burned him. It made a sharp clank that bounced between the walls.
"Why can you do that?" Kunikida growled urgently as he picked it back up.
"I don't know!" Dazai proclaimed, then, he started blinking profusely. His pallor changed quickly, turning into an ashy grey and he toppled over again with his hands clutching his stomach.
Atsushi was quickly beside him, placing his hands on his shoulders. "Dazai-san!" the boy cried and started stroking circles on his back as Dazai's abdomen knotted painfully, making him gag and finally spilling out its contents once more.
Dazai stayed down. None of his limbs seemed to react to the commands his brain was sending to them. His head throbbed and felt as if it was about to explode while a loud screeching, ringing noise chimed in his ears, threatening to burst his eardrums. A stab of pain in his stomach made it impossible to keep a straight face. He groaned out in pain- this wasn't normal.
Arms were flailing around him, but he was unable to pay them any mind. Another stab, this one bigger than the last. A pair of hands were on his shoulders, pulling him away from the bile-covered floor and forced him onto his back and tried to loosen his own arms that grabbed at his shirt desperately.
The sweat was pooling down his face now in what could only be an abrupt fever. A gloved hand was checking his pulse, and blurry faces looked down at him. Their lips were moving, but their words muddled together and seemed impossible to make out.
The rining, pain and the unbearable heat that radiated through his body soon became too much and he felt himself drifting off. His vision was scattered with black spots, and the edges were closing in. Soon, all of their chatter seemed more and more distant, and he gradually drifted off into a deep, chaotic slumber.
Something was pushing down on his solar plexus and nearly thrust the oxygen out of him. It wasn't the pure force as much as it was the pain that took his breath away. With a sharp intake, Dazai startled awake, swapping weakly at whatever was putting the pressure on him with shaky limbs.
His eyelids still felt heavy as he tried to tear himself out of his foggy drowse. Voices started to rift through in the distance, coaxing him back from unconsciousness.
"He's coming to," one voice sounded, but he couldn't make out who it belonged to. All sounds where too muffled. It felt as if his ears were stuffed with cotton, nearly making him feel sick all anew.
"That's it Dazai, wake up." He finally recognized the voice as Yosano's, alluring yet dismal. A wet cloth was being pushed against his cheek and he instinctively tried to turn away from the offending fabric as he slowly realized that they were outside. The chilly wind brushed across his face and made his hair stick to the wet splotches of his face and neck, whether it was from the rag or perspiration. It made him feel slightly uncomfortable to know they had been able to move him all the way outside without him realizing it, but that thought got pushed to the back of his mind as another wave of nausea hit him.
Yosano must have noticed because before he was able to throw up into his own lap, he was being shifted to his side. The sudden movement made him fall to his side, and he felt his lip split open as his face hit hard asphalt. Slowly, he got his trembling arms to work, and he pulled himself up in time to steady himself on his elbow as the bile reached his mouth and was shed onto the ground below.
He was finally able to flutter his eyes open in time to see why the lie about eating breakfast hadn't worked. Frowning at the gross puddle if miscolored liquids, he spat out the residue of bile and about half a mouthful of blood into the mess, and let Atsushi's lean arms help him move away.
The wet cloth was offered to him. He accepted it and held it to his cracked lip to quelch the bleeding. Great, not only was he sick but he would be sporting a ridiculous fat lip as well. If only that cursed insect bite would stop stinging at least he would have had that going for him.
"What are you doing there?" Yosano was suddenly kneeling next to him, giving him a scrutinizing look-over.
"Huh?" Dazai croaked, frowning at his own choked voice. He cleared his throat and tried again, "What do you mean?"
Yosano raised her eyebrows and looked at his hand. Dazai hadn't even realized that he was rubbing at the sore spot on the side of his throat.
"You've been scratching at that mosquito bite since we were downstairs. Can I look at it?"
No- there was no way he wanted her to look underneath the bandages on his neck, but the way she put the emphasis on "mosquito bite" made him pause. What did she mean by that? Before he could answer, however, she had already positioned herself at his side and started to tug at the fabric covering his collar. There was a sinking feeling of doom in Dazai's stomach, and it was not from sickness this time. But, if she notices the cuts and burns that marred his skin, she didn't say anything. Yosano examined the bite in silence, all the while Atsushi was hovering nearby.
"Where are the others?" Dazai asked, winching and twitching a little as Yosano pinched around the sore spot.
"Still inside," Atsushi offered. "They wanted to keep looking."
"Then why are we wasting time out here? Shouldn't we be in there, helping them?"
"Throwing up all over a potential crime scene you mean?" Yosano deadpanned before again putting tight pressure around the tender area on Dazai's neck. This time, Dazai flinched away and gave her an accusing glare- that one hurt . She raised her hands in surrender and got back to her feet. Dazai quickly re-positioned the bandages to cover back up.
Yosano cleared her throat before she spoke, pacing back and forth on the port. "There's a small pin stuck in your neck, Dazai-san."
Dazai and Atsushi's heads snapped up to look at her. Dazai's hand subconsciously moved up to touch the side of his throat.
"I didn't want to touch it, I think it might be carrying some kind of poison. That's probably what made you sick."
"A pin?" Dazai asked dazed as his mind wandered. It wasn't that he had never gotten a mosquito bite before, but in between all the cold sweats and dry-heaving, he hadn't really had much time to reflect on how uncharacteristically painful it had been. All though if he had, he would probably have shrugged it off to be a wasp instead.
Yosano nodded grimly. "We should get back to the Agency so I can remove it. But first…" Again, she approached Dazai. This time he was wearier of her and grabbed his bandages protectively to keep them from being messed with again. But instead of trying to manhandle him again, she waved Atsushi to come with her.
"I'm sorry about this Dazai, but I have a hunch that I need to confirm. Atsushi-kun?"
The kid nodded in response, clearly knowing what to do. Dazai stared at her in confusion as something warm and fuzzy touched his shoulder and brushed against his cheek. Wide-eyed, he peered over at a large white paw and realized that it was Atsushi's ability.
Awed, he grabbed the large paw in his hands and petted it idly. "It's softer than I imagined," he beamed with large twinkles in his eyes. His euphoria was short-lived though, as another twinge of pain wracked its way through his system.
Dazai let go of the furry limb and scooted away from it, holding his abdomen trying to breathe through the fit. Yosano's analytic poise was all over him within a second, feeling his pulse, checking his temperature with the inside of her wrist and listened to his breathing.
"It's definitely affected by abilities," she mused thoughtfully. "Okay, that's it. I'm taking you back to the Agency to examine you further. Please go over to the ocean and throw up before you get in my car."
Dazai looked as if he was about to argue, but she dismissed him with a shake of the head. As he scrambled back to his feet, she gestured for Atsushi to follow him.
"Make sure he doesn't topple over into the water, okay? Unintentionally or not."
After another few hours, Dazai's condition was gradually improving. When they had arrived back to their base, Yosano had to remove the pin stuck in her coworker's neck while he was hunched over the toilet, retching until his eyes flooded over with tears. It might not have been the most sanitary of practices, but she had made one observation.
Their abilities didn't have to be active for it to affect him, it was enough that they had one. But, as long as none of them touched him, the poison in his system seemed to be calm.
She had drawn enough blood from him to leave him borderline anemic, but she wanted to make sure that she had enough while the poison was still actively raging through his system to have the best chances to identify it. All though, she suspected that this was some kind of rampant home remedy.
At least Dazai was fast asleep in the infirmary so he couldn't wreak havoc while she was sat up in her little makeshift lab.
A door in the next room over opened, and chatter filled the hallway, notifying her of the rest of the Agency's return. The lack of struggling and profanities told her that they were returning empty-handed. She quickly settled her utensils aside and undressed from the disposable apron and gloves before she went to meet them. Passing Dazai on her way, she made sure he was still resting peacefully.
"Nothing?" she said as she peeked out from the infirmary, catching Kunikida's attention.
"No, nothing," he growled irritably. "Is Dazai up for an oral debriefing in the main room? We have to plan our next steps."
"About that…" Yosano started, but Dazai abruptly appeared behind her and brushed past her through the door to stand next to his partner.
"Yep," he declared resolutely.
Kunikida took a step back to take in his appearance. Dazai looked like shit. His already pale skin had taken on a sickly complexion of gray, and the deep purple circles under his eyes made it look like he hadn't slept for a week- which, if it hadn't been for the fact that Kunikida had to chase him off the couch earlier the same day, wouldn't have surprised him one bit. His hair was disheveled, and his shirt wrinkled. Dazai had even discarded of his usual west and bolo-tie.
"No," Kunikida said decisively and crossed his arms.
"I'm fine-" Dazai tried to dispute but the venomous glare Kunikida shot him made him shut up.
"Dazai," Yosano sighed. "You only just brushed past me, and you already look worse than you did in there, not even a minute ago. We have no idea what this poison is and how it's going to affect you in the long run."
Kunikida's demeanor changed in an instance. "Poison?"
"That was what I was going to tell you." The doctor explained what they knew and her hypothesis' of what the poison did to Dazai. Before they were even finished talking, Dazai excused himself and staggered off to the bathroom again.
"It seems to be getting worse," Yosano said quietly. "Earlier, it took a few minutes for him to become sick from contact, but now it happens immediately. On the bright side, he seemed to be improving a moment ago when he had slept undisturbed for a couple of hours, so I think we can safely assume that as long as no one touches him, he's all right."
"Are you guys coming?" Kenji asked from the doorway with his usual easy-going smile.
"Yes, Kenji-kun. We'll be there in a minute," Kunikida answered grimly. The blonde beamed back before he bounced off back into the room.
A flush was heard from the other room and Dazai came wobbling out. He leaned heavily on the brick wall and moved clumsily forward. Kunikida moved to help him but paused as Yosano's arm touched his shoulder. He frowned as she shook his head grimly towards him.
"I'll go get Haruno-san," he suggested instead and headed for the offices.
Yosano could only look at the painful movements of her coworker as he tried to maneuver his way forward, but luckily, Kunikida moved fast and soon he was back, joined by their clerk.
Haruno's expression went from curious to dark once she saw Dazai's labored efforts of staying on his feet, and she was quick to throw Dazai's arm around her shoulders.
"Haruno-san, please help Dazai back to the infirmary," Yosano instructed her, but Dazai vigorously shook his head.
"No, I'll be okay in a minute. I want to know what happened."
Assessing the situation for a moment, Yosano finally relented. They could use Dazai's sharp mind right now, even if it was a little muddled at the moment. Even then it was probably brighter than the majority of the agency.
Once inside, Dazai gathered a lot of unwanted attention, and he couldn't help but be grateful once Haruno gently lowered him onto the couch in the back of the office. Once Kunikida started to speak, all of their concentration was focused back on him and he didn't need to feel self-conscious by the prying eyes anymore.
The first thing they addressed was his condition, where things even he hadn't known was touched upon. Like the fact that nobody could touch him, ability activated or not- which really, was a relief. Anytime anyone touched him, it would leave tingles down his spine and make him itch. But the fact that he hadn't even questioned why Haruno was called in to help him in the hallway, worried him slightly. He was really out of it, wasn't he?
Also, he really preferred getting the creeps over being sick any day of the week.
A wave of alleviation washed over him as they steered the conversation back to the mission, and he listened intently to their reflections. Their culprit was nowhere in sight, but there had been clear indications that one of the storage units had been recently inhabited.
"But, if Dazai has been poisoned while we were in there, our guy must have been there while we were," Ranpo added to the mix.
"He wants us to find him," Dazai added, yet again gaining the attention he so despised.
"Why do you think that?" Kunikida asked. He didn't doubt his partner's brilliancy. It was meant more as an aid to coax the answers out of him. They way Dazai leaned heavily to the armrest of the couch was evidence enough that he was feeling lousy.
"The poison used on Dazai-san was customized with him in mind," Ranpo shot in helpfully. "I've never heard of a poison like this. Its effects are weirdly specific for it not to be personalized."
"B-but why would a necromancer want to hurt Dazai-san?" Atsushi asked worriedly, glancing over his shoulder at his mentor who was slouched over at the couch.
A low hum escaped the hardly conscious man's lips. "Come on," he drawled weakly. "At this point, you all know about my past. It can not come as a surprise to any of you that a lot of people have a perfectly justifiable reason to hate me."
"But what about all the other victims?" Tanizaki offered.
"They didn't get poisoned," Ranpo pointed out. "He had to grab our attention, and he certainly has."
"But what are his intentions?"
"There's no way of knowing yet. He hasn't made his move."
"Look- if he poisoned me, he clearly has plans of acting pretty soon before the poison wears out." Dazai sank further into the sofa.
Kunikida moved to the back of the room and placed himself in front of Dazai.
"Dazai-san, what do you suggest we do?" he asked calmly.
A chilling chuckle made it go cold down the bespeckled man's spine as Dazai opened his eyes back up and looked at him. His gaze was dark.
"Why, Kunikida-kun, we give him what he wants."
* If you don't get the reference, read (or read about) Jun'ichirō Tanizaki's novel "Naomi".
I'm writing a lot of whumpy Dazai fics lately, and the reason I write them is that I wanna read them. So I was wondering if anybody would want to write a Dazai Whump fic for me based on my work, and I'll write a Dazai Whump fic based on your work in return? And also, if you haven't written anything but would still like to give this a go, I'd still be happy to write a fic in return, if you'll send me a few key-words (and if you're an artist I would happily trade works too- but I'll spear you all my chicken-scratches and write something of course).
Please let me know in the comments!
I also just recently made a twitter account. I don't really know how to use it, cause I'm old AF (not really but kinda), but it's there! So please follow me for updates on the progress of my stories and… I don't know, other stuff. Possibly. Probably. MissTinfoilHat is the name, of course. Give me a follow! (I still have yet to post anything, cause I'm not going to talk to myself in there, baha).
(If you really want to participate but think it's awkward to write anything about it in the comments, I'm also available for private messaging on tumblr, and discord (#5905) all under the username of MissTinfoilHat.