#Dazai being the only one who knows that that's his coat and before it was Mori's coat and that that coat is like ten years old

[cvntydazai]

bad arguments

how these bsd characters are after a bad argument

pairing; dazai osamu x fem!reader, chuuya nakahara x fem!reader, ryunosuke akutagawa x fem! reader

word count; 916

content warning; unedited, angst, fluff, arguing, miscommunication

a/n; just something random i wrote while taking a break from my dazai fic!

DAZAI OSAMU:

arguing with dazai was exhausting, this man would rather die a painful death than admit he was in the wrong about anything, it was usually why your fights got more out of hand than they ever needed to be. you hated how he tried to deflect from a situation instead of just owning up to his mistakes.

one particularly heated argument had you so riled up you had to leave your apartment, no longer wanting to look your lover in the eye until he was ready to apologize. he didn’t even spare you a glance as you left, a smug expression on his face.

you make your return to your apartment many hours later, it was now nighttime and much too late to be out, especially alone. the first thing your eye catches when you walk through the door is dazai’s fluffy head of hair resting on the couch. you huff, putting your coat up before walking over to the couch.

“are you ready to apol-“ you stop mid-sentence when you realize dazai’s asleep.

he looked uncomfortable, heavy eyebags and his head resting at an awkward angle on the arm rest. you couldn’t help it, a soft coo leaves your lips and it wakes him instantly. those honey eyes were everything but smug this time around.

“my flower, you’re back.” he mumbles, large hands reaching up to caress your face.

“i am..” you say, he smiles.

you continue to stare into his gaze for just a little longer, the silence draping over the two of you like a warm blanket. he knows that what you’re truly waiting for is his apology, he was more than happy to give it to you.

“i’m sorry, for everything. forgive me?” he says at last in his usual supple tone.

of course you forgave him, you always would.

CHUUYA NAKAHARA:

fights with chuuya usually didn’t last long, you two actually pride yourself on your communication when it comes to your relationship. he would never try to hurt you intentionally, you’re the most important person to him and he makes sure you never forget it.

but this one fight had you both out of control. you don’t remember who started it but no one was willing to end it, anything that came out of either of your mouths was only more fuel for the fire. if you were being honest with yourself, it terrified you. it wasn’t chuuya and his capabilities that had you so scared, you knew he would never bring any harm your way, it was the reality that this fight could be the ending to your relationship.

you didn’t want it to end like this, it couldn’t end like this. he was all you had and you would never forgive yourself if this was how it ends. so caught up in your own frightened mind, you didn’t even notice that chuuya quieted down and was staring into your eyes.

“ey, why are you crying?” he didn’t mean for the question to come out as harsh as it did, he was just so taken aback.

when you didn’t reply he really started to worry, his mind no longer focused on whatever you two were bickering about.

“come on doll, please don’t cry. i’m sorry.” his voice only made more salty tears spill from your eyes, in your opinion you didn’t deserve such tenderness.

he wrapped his arms around your frame, his hand on the back of your head and his face buried in your hair. he let you sob your heart out, even if it made his own heart ache. when you finally calmed down you were ready to speak.

“am i still the most important person in the world to you?” he smiled.

“of course you are.”

RYONUSUKE AKUTAGAWA:

you knew your boyfriend wasn’t good at communicating, a part of you had accepted that wholeheartedly. he made his efforts because of how deeply he cared for you and you felt that was enough most of the time. your arguments were mostly about his carelessness when it came to his own personal safety, his nonchalant attitude to your concerns irritated you down to your core.

“if you’re going to act stupid and put yourself in avoidable danger then i’m leaving, i can’t take this.” you misspoke, his eyes widened.

what you truly meant was that you were leaving for a moment to calm down, not leaving him entirely. you could only stare in shock at what nonsense you just spewed from your mouth, guilt weighed down your body, preventing you from taking even one step towards him. it took seeing the fear in his eyes to finally break you free from your mind.

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean it like that i swear.” you tried to mend, now wanting nothing more than to put this whole argument behind you.

he let you pull him into a hug, you held his waist tightly to you. when you felt his hand holding the back of your head you breathed a sigh of relief.

“i know you didn’t mean it that way, but it scared me.” you nodded, understanding.

you mumbled a few more apologies and once you both had calmed down you were able to talk about some of your frustrations. it was mostly you talking and him listening, but it felt good knowing he was listening with such care. he promised to be more careful for you, and you promised to watch your wording when you’re upset.

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 WE WERE BORN SICK

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: that sinking feeling that's been looming over you both has finally come to fruition. truths are revealed, questions are answered, but one big one remains: is love enough for you and dazai's relationship to survive this?

AUTHOR'S NOTES: happy fridayyyyy, i can't believe we only have one chapter left of civzai, it's actually makin me emotional </3 this chapter was quite a doozy to write, and i hope it's equally a doozy to read HAHAH no no jkjk , i hope you enjoy. also do u guys want to add an arcane au to the dazaiverse .. ive been thinking heavily about it. comments & reblogs appreciated

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited. angsty chapter. explicit depiction of suicide (past recollection of dazai), implications of past self-harm (dazai), very toxic thought processes at certain parts (dazai), past (and a bit of current) suicide ideation (dazai), manic behavior (reader).

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

“I’ve been eager to meet you for quite a while. In all of the years I’ve known her, my little hime has never let something as trivial as a boy come between her and our work… I knew you must be special, but I never could’ve imagined just how special. I’m so pleasantly surprised.”

Dazai’s head throbs as he comes to his surroundings. He’s laying in an uncomfortable bed—a hospital bed, he thinks, he can smell the unfortunately familiar scent of antiseptic, but the walls aren’t the typical white he’s used to. He winces as he sits up, unable to recall where he is or what happened to him. Everything is too fuzzy, he remembers being with Fitzgerald, the car ride to the tea house, and-

And he remembers you. 

He remembers you.

He lets out a shaky breath as he recalls the way you’d pulled him into your arms, cradling him close as soon as you got him back from Fitzgerald. God, he only got to be with you for what felt like a second. It wasn’t enough time. It wasn’t nearly enough time. You sent him off, he remembers—you sent him with two of your subordinates, the weretiger and that freaky little girl, and then… 

“Shhh… Don’t speak. I want to get this done and over with.”

The gun to his back, Atsushi and Kyouka’s cries of shock, the baton to his head.

“No can do, weretiger. On orders from the boss.”

His mind tracks back to the words that had been spoken as he was teetering on the edge of consciousness, mouth going dry and eyes widening as he becomes acutely aware of the other person in the room with him. His gaze flicks up to where a vaguely familiar man sits at a desk watching him—straight chin-length black hair, inquisitive purple eyes, a long black coat, Dazai isn’t sure where he recalls this man from but he knows that they’ve met before. 

“Who…” Dazai asks, voice wavering as pain shoots through his head with every little movement. “Who are you? Have we… met before?”

His wrist hurts. His mother’s nails dig into his skin so deep that it draws blood, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. He’d just been sleeping—is he still sleeping? He isn’t sure. He’s stumbling over his own feet trying to keep up with her, he keeps asking her what’s going on but she doesn’t answer him. 

They turn a hall and his mother stops so suddenly that he slams right into her, nearly tripping over onto the ground. He doesn’t even regain his footing before his mother is pulling him back the way he came, he looks over his shoulder trying to figure out what caused his mother to panic so badly and he looks at—a man? 

Who is that? 

Why is he coming from grandfather’s room?

Is that-

Blood?

“Shuji! Shuji, don’t look back! Keep moving!”

Shuji? Who’s Shu-

“I think you know the answer to that already.” Dazai is startled out of the memory—was that a memory?—by the man’s voice. He sounds amused, and from the way that his eyes are glittering, Dazai can tell he’s finding great entertainment out of this situation. It pisses Dazai off. “Don’t you?”

“Tane-chan, you know you won’t be able to hide him forever. You’re just making this harder on yourself.”

Dazai’s breath catches. He shifts backward on the bed to press his back against the wall. Everything is wrong—the air is too cold, his bandages are itching, his head hurts, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. Who is Shuji? Why is he thinking of his mother after all of these years? And what… what was he remembering? 

Memories of his youth have always been sparse and fleeting—he can vaguely recall the faces of his siblings, the anxiety he felt around his grandfather, the loneliness—but something like this… The panic on his mothers face, the pain in his wrist, the way she was dragging him around, the fear in her voice when she screamed at Dazai—was he Shuji? But then why—to not look back, to keep moving. He would remember something like that. That would be… crazy to forget, right?

What is going on?

“You’re Mori,” Dazai breathes out, clearing his throat. He hopes he doesn’t look as disconcerted as he feels, but he thinks he must. “You’re…”

The leader of the Port Mafia. 

The closest thing you have to a father.

So, how does Dazai remember him from years ago? It doesn’t make sense. He couldn’t have been older than thirteen, maybe fourteen in that memory. What did he forget? When did he meet him? What’s going on? Dazai wants to scream, his mind is still slow from just waking up—he doesn’t even know how long he was unconscious, it couldn’t have been that long.

Mori’s smile widens as if Dazai just walked right into whatever trap that had been laid out for him, violet eyes flashing with a type of cruel amusement that makes Dazai sick to his stomach. Dazai has to circle back to remember what he just said, he needs to snap out of the daze he’s in. He needs to think. He made a mistake—Dazai made a mistake. He shouldn’t have admitted that he knew Mori. That was a mistake.

How does he fix it? 

Can he fix it?

“You do know,” Mori says, like he didn’t actually expect Dazai to admit that he knew him. Like he’s pleasantly surprised. Again. Like Dazai just made things much easier for him. Shit. “Interesting.”

He’s going to use it against Dazai. Dazai knows it. He’s going to use it against him to hurt you. He remembers everything he’s learned about your relationship with Mori—how he pit you against that other girl, Yosano, to get results from you. And he already said it. He already said that Dazai is getting between you and your work, he’ll do the same thing here. He’ll pit you against him.

He’s going to tell you that Dazai knew who Mori was, and that Dazai is someone that he’s not—who is Shuji? Why doesn’t he remember his own name? Is that really his name? How does Mori know all of this? Who is Dazai?—and Dazai needs to be able to say something. He needs to be able to explain. How does he explain this when he doesn’t even know what’s going on? Dazai needs to remember; he needs to remember now, he needed to remember yesterday, because if he’s not the one to tell you this… If he can’t explain this…

This cannot be happening—it can’t. Right when he thought everything would be okay, when he would be with you. His throat starts to clog as anxiety clouds his head and weighs on his chest, a panic attack that he can’t afford right now. He needs to think, he needs to figure out what’s going on—Mori knows something about Dazai that he doesn’t know himself, and he’s going to use it against him to drive a wedge between the two of you. He’s going to tell you, and-

Dazai’s world feels woozy. Why can’t he remember? How does he know Mori? What was happening that night with his mother? He needs to snap out of this, needs to think, but he can’t even breathe. Fear—the mind killer.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Dazai rasps, his voice is hoarse, and he feels sick, and he hates admitting that he doesn’t know what’s happening, but he needs Mori to believe it so that he doesn’t tell you something that’s not true. “I don’t know how I know you. I don’t-”

“You might believe that,” Mori says amused, “but will she?”

Dazai stares at Mori, his stomach churns violently and his vision swims as the answer becomes abundantly clear to him.

He doesn’t know. 

———

The gun in your hand weighs heavily.

You hid it in the inside of your blazer to get up to the conference room. No weapons are allowed up past the thirty-fifth floor unless you’re one of the Boss’s hand-picked personal guards—even executives are forced to disarm themselves before going up, but security is much more lax for the upper echelon. Because you’re you—the hime, second-in-command, the Boss’s daughter—the guards outside of the elevator that goes directly to the top floor wave you past the metal detectors to go on up.

A mistake.

(Who is Tsushima Shuji? It can’t be Dazai. You know Dazai. Mori must be wrong.)

The smile on your face is bland and doesn’t meet your eyes as you walk down the hall to the conference room attached to Mori’s office. You greet the guards, and they don’t notice how off your demeanor is, too starstruck over the fact that they’re being acknowledged for once. They also don’t notice the way your hand is curled around the grip of your gun in your blazer.

A mistake. 

(Mori is never wrong. Do you really know Dazai?)

When you reach the end of the hallway, you toss them one last brilliant smile. This one is a bit more genuine because you’ve realized that you’ve gotten through the top notch security of the upper levels of the Port Mafia headquarters without a hitch. That you’re one step closer to finishing this. They’re so blinded by the beauty of your smile that they don’t realize your teeth have sharpened into knives and the floral perfume you wear masks a putrid bloodlust. 

A mistake. 

(It’s always been odd, hasn’t it? The way he approached you. The way he was so insistent on pushing himself into your life. You always questioned it. There was a sinking feeling that something wasn’t as it seemed. Why didn’t you question it more?)

You keep your back turned as you slip into the room. You can feel four presences behind you—Kouyou, Piano Man, Chuuya, Ace. No Mori. No Dazai. That’s fine—you have something to take care of before they show up anyway. The conference room is soundproof; Mori designed it that way because he didn’t want the guards outside to overhear any discussion of sensitive topics. Even if he handpicked them for their loyalty, he understands that money can make the most devout man’s faith waver. Still, it’s not them rushing in that you’re worried about—it’s the people in the room with you rushing out, so you very carefully twist the nub of the lock and then reach up to fix the deadbolt. It won’t stop them, but it will slow them. You can feel their eyes on you as you make sure the door is locked, but none of them call you out for it or try to stop you.

A mistake. 

(Mori always told you that the Tsushimas were like cockroaches. If they all weren’t killed, one would eventually return to reclaim their grandfather’s empire. There’d be a power struggle between the factions loyal to the new regime and the ones that still hid in the shadows believing that the Tsushima blood belonged at the head of the organization. Everything the two of you had built would crumble to ashes.)

You turn to make your way over to the conference table where the four of them are sitting. You haven’t decided how you want to go about this yet. You don’t know who all was aware of what Mori did, and because of that, you don’t know who needs to die. Treachery has always faced a death penalty—you don’t care if Mori ordered it, you don’t care that the Boss’s word is absolute, you have bled and breathed for the Port Mafia. You’ve sacrificed everything you’ve ever owned and wanted for the Port Mafia. You have made the Port Mafia into what it is today with your efforts abroad and at home—foreign governments, foreign criminal organizations, the Japanese government and other domestic mafias, all of them are just puppets that you pull the strings of to ensure the Port Mafia stays on top. Treachery against you will face the same penalty one would receive if they betrayed the Port Mafia, because you are the Port Mafia—Mori has made sure of that. 

Chuuya and Piano Man share a look with one another as you approach the table. Neither of them say anything—is it confusion? Is it guilt? Did they know? Were you the only one unaware of the schemes going on around you? Were you the only one loyal? The only one you could trust?

Did they know?

Did they know?

(No one could ever love you without your ability at work influencing them. You’ve known that since the very beginning, but you were so quick to forget that when you discovered Dazai’s ability. You should have had more questions, you should have been more suspicious. Mori had been right from the very beginning. You were emotionally compromised. You were weak.)

Ace opens his mouth to speak.

A mistake. 

“It was nice meeting your-”

Ace’s head hits the conference table with a hard thunk, his eyes wide and glassy, his mouth open around the words you didn’t let him finish speaking. Blood seeps from the bullet hole in his temple and pools around his head and the ground beneath his chair, staining the glass table and the white floors. 

Instead of lowering your arm, you shift it so that the gun is pressed against Piano Man’s temple next. Chuuya says your name—it’s awful, something caught between a gasp of shock and confusion, he’s never said your name like that before. Like he doesn’t know what you’re doing. Like he doesn’t understand you. Like you’re something unfamiliar. Unrecognizable. You ignore him anyway, and the pangs that come along with it, and instead, you keep your gaze trained on Piano Man’s face.

He’s not as panicked as Chuuya, but you can tell that he’s just as caught off guard from the way his lips are twisted. He watches you carefully, waiting for you to say whatever you’re going to say—if you were going to pull the trigger, you would’ve done so immediately, he knows that. He’s always been good at reading you, better than even Chuuya sometimes.

“Did you know?”

Your voice is steadier than you expect it to be. Cold almost. Distant. You don’t recognize it yourself, you suppose it’s no wonder that Chuuya’s staring at you with such a foreign expression. You watch him just as carefully as he does you. He has a tell when he lies: he squints. Not an obvious squint, just the barest hint of his eyes squeezing shut like he’s calculating exactly what he wants to say, in what tone and with what fluctuation he wants to say it.

A subtle tell, but a tell nonetheless. 

“No.”

He stares at you steadily as he says it. There’s no squint—he’s telling the truth. You don’t let out a breath of relief, but you certainly feel the weight off of your shoulders. You lower the gun, satisfied with his response, and then you walk over to where Chuuya is sitting.

You don’t raise the gun to his temple immediately. He looks up at you, you look down at him, a whole conversation is had in the silence between you, and eventually he lowers his lashes in resignation, telling you to do what needs to be done for you to feel more at ease.

He’s always put others before himself. 

You lift the gun at the same time he lifts his gaze to meet yours. He could activate the Tainted Sorrow and end this before it starts, but he doesn’t—you know in your gut that if you pulled the trigger right now, he would accept the fate you delivered. Probably would take it as a better one than he deserved—it being at your hands rather than Arahabaki. 

“Did you know?” you ask. The words taste bitter, rancid—they don’t belong there, Chuuya would never betray you, but you had to hear it from him. 

Chuuya doesn’t have many tells when he lies—he’s a good actor, much better than people give him credit for. If he wanted to lie to you, he might be able to get away with it. But he won’t lie to you, not when he’s looking you in the eye. 

“No,” he says, voice soft and raspy like he can’t believe he has to say it.

You let the gun drop to your side. It weighs heavier now—heavier than it did in the elevator, heavier than it did in the hallway leading to the room, heavier than it did when it was pressed against Piano Man’s head. You can hardly bear to keep holding it, but you’re not done yet.

Slowly, your gaze turns to Kouyou. Her expression is cold and unreadable, gaze pinned on you in the same way a lion stalks its prey through the tall grass… No, that’s not right. She stares at you with the same look in her eyes that a snake does when it’s curled in a corner, rattle shaking and hissing to try to scare off the predator that has it trapped.

“You knew,” you breathe out softly in disbelief. Your voice hardens and tightens as you repeat, “You knew!”

Before you can raise your gun—before you can pull the trigger four, five, six times, before you can riddle her body with holes because how dare she know, how dare she know and not tell you after what the previous boss did to her—the door that separates the conference room from Mori’s office opens, and your attention is drawn to the one person who caused all of this.

“Oh my,” Mori says airly, looking between you, Ace’s body, and Kouyou with an expression that is frustratingly amused. “I see you’ve been busy.”

You don’t even know what to say to that. You almost want to laugh. You think you do laugh, actually—someone does, and you think it’s you, because you feel yourself walking away, you lift your hands to your head to tug at your ears in frustration. Your vision is blurry—are you crying?

“You betrayed me,” you finally say, voice quieter than you intend, so you raise it as you repeat yourself. “You betrayed me. You. Of all people I never thought you would be the one to-”

You can’t even finish the sentence, your voice cracks over the words. It makes you feel sick, it makes you angry, it makes you want to crawl out of your skin, because how could he? To you? You don’t know why you’re so angry, why you’re so betrayed. Mori has always made it clear that his priority is the Port Mafia, but still, to do this to you. To do this to his-

To his what?

You’re not his daughter. You hate when people imply that you are, you hate being called hime, you hate being called ‘Miss Mori’, you hate when people give you respect because of your perceived relationship to him. 

He’s the only father you’ve ever known. Almost every decision you’ve made has been with the motive of making him proud of you. When he seeks out your opinion specifically during meetings, your chest becomes warm with pride.

You don’t love him. How could you? Look at what you’ve become because of him. 

Then why do you feel so betrayed? Why did you think he would be the last person to do something like this to you when you know the type of person he is? Why does your chest feel like it’s caving in? Like your heart’s been ripped right out of it? Why does this hurt as much—why does this hurt more than Dazai’s potential betrayal?

And he certainly doesn’t love you. He never would have done this if he did. 

He’s killed people for disrespecting you—he hardly ever gets his own hands dirty, but he does when it’s you and your dignity on the line. He spends hours meticulously picking out birthday presents that he knows you’ll like. He gets sad when he invites you for lunch and you don’t join him, reminiscing about the days where you clung to the back of his coat.

He touches your shoulder, and your finger twitches on the trigger of the gun. You want to lift it, press it to his temple and pull the trigger just like you did to Ace, but you can’t. Your arm feels like lead, and when his hand slides down to your bicep to force you to turn around and face him so that your back is to the rest of the executives, you dutifully follow along.

His expression is unreadable as he looks down at you, violet eyes swimming with an emotion you’ve never seen in them before. He lifts his hand to wipe away one of the tears that had spilled over your cheeks with his knuckle, and then taps your cheek twice, chiding you silently. 

Do not cry here, little hime. Not here.

“You have always been so dramatic,” Mori hums just loud enough for you to hear, but the words are fond, and the corners of his lip curl up as he looks down at you. “I would not betray you. Not ever, dear.” 

You look at Ace pointedly in response and then back to Mori, the man sighs dramatically and gives you a disappointed look. The nerve, you think bitterly, narrowing your eyes on him as you wait for his explanation.

“I told you,” Mori says. “I did this to protect you. I wanted to get ahold of the boy-”

“Because you have some mistaken belief that he’s a Tsushima,” you interrupt coolly. “How did you even manage to come up with that ridiculous theory?”

Mori’s eyes flicker with something akin to interest, but shifts quickly into pity—you can’t tell if it’s genuine or mocking, and you don’t know which would be worse. He must be mistaken, he has to be. You don’t think you can handle the implications of if he isn’t, of what it might mean for you. For Dazai. Your whole relationship with him. How much was manufactured for him to get information about the Port Mafia? So he could get a foothold in the organization? Get in contact with the remaining loyalists to his family?

“Sit,” he tells you, guiding you over to the seat at the right of the head of the table. “I’ll explain everything, but first… Shuji-kun, why don’t you come out and join us?” 

Your breath catches at Mori’s words, gaze twisting to the side over to the door that he’d come out of. You watch as the door creaks open, and the achingly familiar sight of his face finally comes into view. You’ve missed him—you’ve missed him, and you hate this. You should be back at your apartment with him, you should have him curled up in your arms, you should be listening to him complain about how long he was stuck with the Guild. 

This shouldn’t be happening. You shouldn’t be sitting at the executive roundtable with Ace’s dead body a few feet away, and Dazai entering the room, questions of his identity, of whether or not he’s been using you for information and opportunity to take back his grandfather’s legacy. 

You hoped that Dazai would enter the room angry, irritated by the kidnapping and the accusations, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen Dazai look like this before. He looks a mess, fidgeting, brown hair matted to his forehead, dark eyes wide and swirling with emotion. When he seeks you out, they’re pleading, imploring, like he already knows that whatever is about to be said is going to be bad for him. 

He looks… frazzled. Nervous. Confused. 

He looks guilty, and you know that Mori is telling the truth. 

How much of this was a lie? All of it?

Your throat feels uncomfortably tight, gaze sliding from Dazai back to Mori.

“Tell me.”

Who are you, Dazai Osamu?

———

Despite his body being wracked with a strange sense of guilt, Dazai pushes open the door to enter the room where he assumes you’ll be waiting. You’re not the only one there sitting at the table—there’s five… no, four others—but Dazai can’t help the way he immediately seeks you out. He recognizes his mistake instantly. That highly unwelcome, and highly misplaced, guilt amplifies the moment his gaze meets yours and he sees how crushed you are by all of this. His face twists into something that he knows condemns himself more. and from the way you instantly look away from him, directing your full attention to Mori, he knows he has. 

Now, you won’t meet his eyes at all.

Dazai sits stiffly across from you to the left of Mori. Nakahara Chuuya is on his opposite side, glaring holes into the side of Dazai’s head, but he can’t drag his gaze from you. He’s never seen you like this before—even back at the beach house when you’d been so close to breaking down under the weight of everything on your shoulders, you’d held yourself together as best you could. 

You’re unraveling now; he can tell you’re still trying to hold yourself together, but it’s as good as trying to pick up water with your fists, your emotions spill out through the cracks carved into the walls you used to hide yourself behind. Mori hasn’t even begun talking, yet your breath is unsteady and your eyes are swimming with emotion; your fingers are still wrapped tight around the grip of your gun, and Dazai is very acutely aware of Ace’s dead body slouched over the table not even a few feet away. 

And you won’t even meet his eyes.

Maybe it’s a good thing, he realizes, because Dazai isn’t sure what you might see if you do. You clearly didn’t like what you saw the first time. He just feels so guilty, and he doesn’t even know why he feels guilty because he’s not-he didn’t do any of what Mori implied. He didn’t use you, he didn’t know who you were before meeting you, it wasn’t all some scheme to try to take over the mafia. That’s ludicrous—he’s a literature student at YNU, not some gang lord. He just-

He loved you. Loves you. No ulterior motives. No strings attached. 

“I said tell me,” you snap when Mori doesn’t immediately begin talking. “You love talking, so why are you holding back now? Tell me, or I’m leaving.”

Dazai feels a bit sick to his stomach when you say ‘I’ with no implication of taking him with you. He tries to get you to look at him again, silently pleading with you to just spare one glance in his direction, but you’re irritated now. He can see it in the way your fingers flex around the gun, knuckles whitening and finger twitching on the trigger—it’s pointed at the woman sitting next to you, who is very acutely aware of the fact from how stiff she is. 

“Do you remember the night we took over the Port Mafia, dear?” Mori asks her, voice a low hum. 

“What kind of question is that?” you answer tightly. Your lip curls up in irritation, Dazai can see you become more and more antsy and angry—he’s never seen you so out of control before. “Of course, I do.” 

“And you, Shuji-kun?” Mori turns his attention to Dazai and he wants to spit in his face—his name is Dazai—but his voice fails him when he sees the way your face twists at the sound of the unfamiliar name. He stares at Mori instead, hating how amused the man becomes at his silence. “I’ll take that as a no, allow me to refresh you.”

“Eight years ago, a coup was staged against your grandfather’s regime,” Mori says, and Dazai feels like he’s being studied under a microscope. All eyes are on him now—even yours, but now, he can’t bring himself to look at you. He doesn’t know what he’ll find, and he’s scared it’s going to be something he doesn’t like. “Your grandfather was mad, killing civilians and mafiosos indiscriminately, something had to be done, and nobody was willing to do it, so we did.”

“We had to wipe out the whole family, and any loyalists. I was fourteen when I killed someone for the first time. She was a girl my age—the previous boss’s grandaughter…”

Dazai’s gaze drags over to you. You’re staring ahead now, gaze listless and expression eerily blank like you’re slowly starting to realize what this means. Dazai hasn’t come to terms with it yet, because if even a little of what Mori is saying is true then…

“We wiped out the whole bloodline and as many loyalists as we could,” Mori continues, “or we thought we did, at least. My dear hime was who I sent to kill the heirs, I trusted in her to make it quick and painless. We didn’t realize one of the grandchildren were missing until it was too late—he wasn’t in his bedroom, apparently liked to wander around at night because he couldn’t sleep. His mother was able to swoop in and get him out of the estate before our men took over the building… Tsushima Shuji, the youngest of the previous boss’s grandsons. Does this sound familiar yet, Shuji-kun?”

He has the best view of the night sky from an alcove on the fourth floor of the estate—his grandfather’s floor. It’s where he likes to go when he can’t sleep at night, and ever since his cousins and siblings started fighting over their grandfather’s legacy, that’s been just about every night: half because of fear now that things have started escalating to violence, half because he’s not even sure why he’s still here.

His knees are tucked tight to his chest, arms wrapped around them and head resting against the cool glass as he looks up at the stars. He hears a commotion happening somewhere downstairs, but there’s always a commotion happening at the estate, so he thinks nothing of it. He submerges himself in the darkness instead, letting his mind float away as he stares up at the sky—it’s the only time he’s able to relax, escape from the shadows of his own mind.

He’s not sure how long he sits there admiring the night, time passes immeasurably when he’s lost in the stars—he’s only snapped out of it when he hears feet slamming against the ground in his direction. He stiffens, eyes wide, wondering if another one of his cousins has finally turned to bloodshed as the way to inherit their grandfather’s legacy, but instead his mother turns the corner, her smooth face contorted in a type of panic he’s never seen on her before.

“Mothe…” he starts to say, confused, but he doesn’t even get a chance to finish the word, gasping as his mother grabs his wrist and yanks him off the cushioned seat in the alcove.

“Shuji, we have to go,” she gasps, “we need to get out of here. It’s not safe.”

He stumbles after his mother, struggling to keep up with her quick pace and longer legs. Her grip was painful, nails digging into the bandages around his wrists, right into the fresh wounds they covered. He grimaces in pain, breathing heavy as he follows his mother down the hall, assumingly toward the steps near his grandfather’s room. 

“What’s going on?” he asks. “What about Bunji? Akane? T-”

His mother chokes over what sounds like a sob and his eyes widen—he’s never heard his mother cry before. 

“There’s no time,” she chokes out, “we have to leave without them. We-”

They turn a hall, she skids to a stop and-

“It seems that it does… Allow me to continue then,” Mori hums, drawing Dazai out of the memory. He sounds unbearably amused, and Dazai would be angry if he wasn’t so shaken. He pulls his hands off of the table to rest them in his lap to hide the way his fingers are trembling. “Your mother was able to hide you from us for half a year, I warned her that she wouldn’t be able to for long and since she didn’t share your grandfather’s blood, promised to spare her life if she gave you up to us, but she refused. She tried to take you out of the Kanagawa Prefecture, but our men were catching up to her, and she took… drastic measures to ensure we couldn’t track you down. That I’m sure you remember.”

“Mother,” he whispered, staring up at the rope, her limp body, gaze trailing down to the kicked over chair. “Mother, I don’t… why did you…”

He takes a step closer. A step back. Another step closer. He reaches out, fingers brushing the white nightgown she’d worn the night before while getting him settled in bed, but he snatches them back instantly like he’d been burned, clutching his hand to his chest.

He’s not breathing, he realizes when his lungs start to burn. His eyes sting painfully, unable to draw his eyes away—unable to even blink—is it a nightmare? Is he hallucinating? She sways—sways like when she used to distract him when he was settling into a depressive episode by putting on music and forcing him to spin with her in the kitchen, sways like the wind chimes she keeps outside because the house doesn’t feel homely enough without him, sways-

“Shuji! Shuji, get away from there!” The voice that calls to him is familiar—Aunt Kiye? Why is she here? “God, I tried to get here earlier. Nee-san, forgive me.”

Aunt Kiye grabs his wrist, yanking him away from his mother, dragging him out of her bedroom and down the hall. His voice is hoarse as he screams, he doesn’t know what he’s screaming, if he’s even screaming anything intelligible. He doesn’t stop until he’s out of the house and she’s kneeling in front of him, shaking him out of his panic.

“Enough, Shuji! We have to go, we can’t stay here, they’ll be here soon,” Aunt Kiye shouts at him, expression twisted and eyes pooling with tears that she doesn’t let spill over. “We need to go, and we-we need to change your name, change everything. I promised I would hide you, I-”

“We can’t leave her there,” he argues, voice shrill. “I don’t understand, why did she do that? What did I do? It was my fault, It was my fault, wasn’t it? It-”

Aunt Kiye doesn’t answer his question. She looks bitter, angry, hateful. “We have no time. We have to leave,” she whispers, dragging him to the car despite his protests. She continues talking, more to herself than to him, but the words make his chest cave in. “I told her not to get involved with that family. Their blood is black, cursed. Everyone knows nothing good comes from associating with those people.”

His fault, he realizes, breath becoming thin and shallow. It’s his fault, his blood, his fault that his mother-

“Yes, quite the unfortunate scene we walked into,” Mori says dismissively. “She was smart for it though, she never would’ve survived a night with our sweet hime interrogating her. You should see what she did to that despicable journalist. Of course, she wasn’t as fine-tuned with her ability back then, but that would’ve been at your mother’s expense—her first few attempts at conditioning were quite… unfortunate for her test sub-”

“Enough,” you spit out, interrupting him. Dazai wants to believe that it’s because you can see how uncomfortable he’s getting, but he’s not even sure that you care. He’s not even sure you remember he’s in the room. “Get to the point. You think he’s the Tsushima kid we missed—that doesn’t prove shit. It doesn’t mean-”

You don’t finish what you’re going to say, but you do look at him, and Dazai’s breath catches when his gaze finally meets yours again. He can’t tell what you’re thinking—the expression on your face is entirely indecipherable, something caught between being accusatory and guilty. Dazai doesn’t know if he’s going to make it out of this room alive. Even if by some miracle, you decide to believe him, there��s a good chance that Mori will order his death anyway, and he’s not sure if you’ll pick him over the Port Mafia. 

That being said, Dazai doesn’t even know if he wants to make it out of here alive. His brain is fogged with memories that he locked so deep within him that they never should’ve resurfaced—every time Mori speaks, Dazai’s recalling something new, something awful, something that proves that he’s every bit the freak people have always claimed him to be. Every bit as bad. Every bit as wrong. Not like other people. A monster whose mother killed herself because of him, a monster who's been cursed since the day he was born. 

“... blood is black, cursed… nothing good comes from associating with those people.”

More than that, he doesn’t see how the two of you are going to be able to come back from this, and that scares him more than anything. You’re the only good thing left in his life, and he doesn’t think he’ll make it without you, but he doesn’t think that after all of this things are just going to work out. You killed his siblings. His cousins. And yeah, Dazai was never close to them—they thought he was too quiet, too strange, all of the things that the other students at school whispered, his family was the first to—but… they were still his family, and if Dazai had been in his room that night, he would’ve been just as dead at your hands as the rest of them.

You killed his family. You would have killed him. The Port Mafia is the reason his mother killed herself, the reason why he walked into her bedroom and saw her hanging from a fan. The Port Mafia is the reason his aunt hated him so much that she couldn’t even bear looking at him, the reason why he was left to die in Suribachi City. 

Would you ever be able to get over the guilt of that? Would Dazai be able to accept it? You had a heavy hand in ruining his life, is it enough that you saved him years later? He doesn’t know, he’s hardly even processed it, he just knows that he has to cling to what little he has left, dig his nails in and not let go even if it makes you choke on guilt, even if it makes him sick with shame. He won’t let go. 

“So impatient,” Mori sighs. “Your aunt hid you for almost another half a year, but she wasn’t able to move out of the Yokohama area. She did well though, I’ll give her that. We had our best trying to find you, but she was very careful. It was partially our own fault that we didn’t get our hands on you back then—some loyalists to your grandfather snuck under our radar, told her when we were closing in on the two of you. She got rid of you before we got to her… but we did get to her. Kouyou-kun was the one who handled her, if I recall it got quite… messy. I can’t imagine how it must feel knowing that your mother and aunt sacrificed themselves to protect you only for you to throw it all away in an arrogant attempt to reclaim your grandfather’s legacy.”

Dazai doesn’t even zero in on the last bit of what Mori says because he’s too busy trying to wrap his head around the rest of it. Aunt Kiye didn’t… die for him. Aunt Kiye hated him. He remembers that clear enough—he remembers how she could hardly stand to look at him, he remembers the way she was always so cold and rough with him, he remembers-

“You have to go, Osamu.” Aunt Kiye is shouting at him, and he’s sitting in the passenger seat of her car. He doesn’t move, he thinks maybe if he sits still enough, she won’t see him there and won’t make him leave. “Osamu, get out of the car and go, we don’t have time! They’ve found us.”

The name is still unfamiliar—he’s not used to it, and he doesn’t know if he likes it, but Aunt Kiye insists that Tsushima Shuji is dead and that name can never be uttered again. She gets mad when he doesn’t immediately answer to it, tells him not to let his mother’s death be in vain, and that’s usually enough to get him to stop being stubborn over it.

“Osamu, go!” She grabs his bicep hard to try to get his attention, but he flinches and squirms out of her grip, still not responding to her. He can’t remember the last time he’s spoken—he thinks maybe since they left the cabin that morning. “You-”

Aunt Kiye sounds angry now, but he can’t bring himself to look at her. It’s only when he hears her unbuckle and feels her start reaching over him that he starts to panic. He reaches up to grab her bicep, trying to stop her from grabbing the handle of the door to open it, but she’s stronger than him. He’s hardly been eating lately, and he’s never been particularly strong—he was always the smallest among his siblings. 

It takes no effort for her to bat his hands away, pushing open the door and unbuckling his seatbelt. He struggles against her as she tries to push him out of the car, and she’s still speaking—shouting at him, begging him, he thinks she might be crying too, but he can’t even tell. His mind is fogged with panic and fear—he doesn’t want to be alone in Suribachi City, he doesn’t want to be alone at all. He wants to stay with Aunt Kiye even if she hates him because he doesn’t want to be alone. 

Eventually, Aunt Kiye wins the fight—even with him fighting tooth and nail, she manages to push him out of the car. He hits the ground hard, gasping when he lands poorly on his elbow. He’s stunned for a moment by the shock and pain, and Aunt Kiye takes the chance to toss out a backpack from the back seat and close the door behind him, locking it quickly. 

“No!” His voice is raspy from lack of use over the past few months. He scrambles to his feet and tries to pry the door open but can’t. Aunt Kiye won’t even look at him, she stares ahead as she switches the car into gear and he slams his hands against the window. “Aunt Kiye! Aunt Kiye, don’t leave me here! Don’t leave me here, please, I’ll be better, I’ll do better, just don’t-”

He stumbles back as she pulls the car away, falling when he trips over the backpack onto the asphalt, scraping up his hands and forearms. He’s not sure how long he sits there staring after where the car disappeared waiting for her to come back for him.

She doesn’t.

She didn’t die for him, Dazai thinks again, nails digging crescents into his palm. She didn’t die for him, she couldn’t have. Dazai won’t believe it. Aunt Kiye hated him, she abandoned him in Suribachi—none of this can be true. It can’t. His mother killed herself to be free of him, not to protect him; and Aunt Kiye abandoned him because she hated him, not to save him.

That’s the truth. It has to be. They couldn’t have died for him—for him. It doesn’t make any sense. He doesn’t want to remember all of this—he was better off thinking that they hated him, that they wanted to be free of him.

He can feel you looking at him now, but Dazai is back to being unable to look at you. He’s staring down at the glass table looking at his reflection, his eyes are wide and dark and far too black—he looks warped, inhuman almost. His expression is blank, none of the turmoil within him is reflected on it, and he doesn’t even understand why. He thinks it’s probably just making him seem more guilty.

“We figured she left you somewhere in Suribachi City, but we weren’t able to track you down,” Mori says flippantly. Dazai wants him to stop talking, but he has a sick feeling things are only going to get worse from here. “Not until you ended up with Oda Sakunosuke, at least, we…”

Dazai’s ears ring at his old friend’s name. Mori is still talking, but his words become a distant buzz. Everything starts coming back to him at once—his time alone in Suribachi City, the weeks he spent rationing the little food he had, getting the shit kicked out of him by some low rung gang who stole his mother’s ring from him. He remembers giving up, questioning the point of his own existence with a detached logic that left him with only one answer—there was no point to his existence, so he was as good dead as he was alive. 

He remembers seeing on a sign that it was the eve of his fifteenth birthday, and he remembers dropping himself in the bay during a storm, hoping that the tide dragged him so far beneath the surface that he’d never see the light of day again.

He remembers waking up the next morning to an unfamiliar face at his bedside, brows knit in disapproval and lips turned down, and he distinctly remembers feeling put out by a stranger looking at him that way.

“What’s your name, kid?”

Dazai couldn’t remember anything but the name Aunt Kiye had drilled into him over and over again the past few months.

“Dazai Osamu.”

“Hm. Oda Sakunosuke. You got a family, Dazai?

Odasaku brought him in. 

Odasaku saved him. 

The doctors said he’d been dead for almost three minutes when Odasaku found him washed up on the beach—said his memory might return over time, but it might not—but Dazai didn’t even care, because Odasaku brought him in. He gave him a roof over his head, food to eat, and a reason to live. He sent him to school so he could feel like a normal kid his age. He played board games with him and didn’t even care when Dazai was a sore loser and quit mid-game when he realized he wouldn’t win. He humored Dazai when he faked being sick because he didn’t want to go to school. When Dazai was going through bad depressive episodes, Odasaku would sit with him silently and write his book so Dazai never felt alone. Odasaku introduced him to Ango and they were-

They were his friends.

Family, maybe.

They were all he had, and they were all he needed. 

And then-

“We were the ones who killed him.”

Dazai’s gaze drags up from the table to focus on Mori. The man’s lips are curved into a cruel smile, his eyes are sharp, and Dazai is moving before he can stop himself. He lunges across the table, but Mori doesn’t even flinch because Nakahara Chuuya grabs the back of his shirt and yanks him back down into his seat. 

“You-” Dazai spits, voice raspy and angry.

“Don’t look at me like that, we were trying to get to you,” Mori says casually as if the words don’t shatter Dazai’s entire world. “We would’ve loved to have Oda Sakunosuke amongst our ranks. His death was unfortunate. Collateral damage. He was an assassin for a long time—one of the best in the world. He was pretty much unkillable, his ability allowed him to see six seconds into the future. I never understood how our sniper managed to get him that day, but now I do. He saw you getting shot with his foresight and tried to pull you out of the way, but your ability is nullification, so when he touched you to save you, he damned himself. In those split seconds when he was pulling you to safety, he couldn’t see the future, and couldn’t see the bullets aimed for you that lodged into his chest instead.”

Dazai can’t do this anymore. He tries to push himself up to his feet but his legs are numb and uncooperative, and he can’t move his hands or arms. Mori’s lips part to continue speaking but Dazai can’t do this, he can’t hear anymore of this. He’d always known in his heart that Odasaku’s death was his fault even if he couldn’t remember much about his mother and Aunt Kiye and their desperate attempts to hide him from the Port Mafia. He’d known, but hearing it-hearing the confirmation, it’s too much for him.

Before Mori can say anything, Dazai is startled from his spiraling thoughts when you stand up so abruptly that your chair goes flying back. Your expression is haunted and you’re not looking at him again, but Dazai is glad for it, because he thinks he’s about to throw up.

“I… I need a minute. I just need a minute,” you say shakily before fleeing the room into Mori’s office so quickly that you almost trip over the chair you knocked over.

The room is silent in your wake, and after a few impossibly long moments, Mori stands to follow you into the other room. The three Port Mafia executives left in the room don’t say anything for a moment, and Dazai is just trying to breathe. He’s trying to breathe and process what Mori just said, but he’s failing miserably at it. 

It’s the woman, Kouyou, who speaks first.

“She’s going to kill me for knowing about this,” she says simply, sparing a glance down at the dead body on her opposite side. “I’ve never seen her like this before. Even when Chuuya-kun went missing for a few days, this…”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have conspired against her,” Piano Man sings, looking entirely unperturbed. “I mean honestly, after what the previous boss did to you, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic. Silly me to think you aren’t a cold-hearted bitch.”

Dazai tries to pay attention to what they’re saying, he tries to ground himself with the conversation happening so he can forget the feeling of Odasaku’s blood all over his hands, staining his clothes, smeared on his face. He tries to replace Mori’s echoing words with what they’re saying but he can’t.

“We were trying to get to you.”

“It has nothing to do with sympathy,” Kouyou snaps, but she does look ashamed. “It’s a security threat, it’s bigger than love. This boy could spell the end of everything we’ve built.”

“She won’t kill you, Ane-san,” Chuuya finally speaks up, his knuckles are tight around the armrest of the chair he’s sitting in. “I’ll talk to her, I just-”

“When he touched you to save you, he damned himself.”

“Chuuya-kun, she almost killed you,” Kouyou says so dryly that the words almost don’t even register to Dazai, but when they do, they’re the only thing that effectively draws him from his spiraling thoughts. He looks at Chuuya sharply to see if what Kouyou said was true, and his eyes widen when he only grimaces and looks down. “You and Piano Man. She didn’t even hesitate before pulling the trigger on Ace. She’s unstable right now, there’s no talking to her.”

“But she didn’t,” Chuuya says tightly. “I’ll talk to her, but first…”

Chuuya looks at Dazai so suddenly that he almost wants to snap his head away and ignore him, but he can’t. The ginger studies Dazai so intensely that it makes him want to crawl out of his own skin.

“Did you know?” Chuuya asks, voice low. He’s angry, Dazai can tell from the way a dark red color starts to flicker around his hands, but he’s trying to keep it together. “Tell me. Did you know who she was and use her to get closer to the Mafia for revenge? I’ll spare her the pain of having to put a bullet through your fucking head and kill you myself right now. Did you know who she was and purposely-”

“No,” Dazai interrupts, voice hoarse. “No. I didn’t-I didn’t know.”

Chuuya stares at him for a few seconds, studying him like he doesn’t know if he actually believes him, but after what feels like an eternity, he finally shakes his head and looks away, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Fuck, this is such a mess,” Chuuya breathes out, voice strained. “Fuck. She-”

Chuuya doesn’t finish his sentence because the door to Mori’s office reopens and you step back into the room, Mori at your heels. Your eyes are red, but your expression is withdrawn now, void of the tumultuous emotions that had been raging across it just a few minutes before. You settle back in your seat. Your eyes flit over Dazai like he’s not even there before focusing on Mori.

Dazai suddenly has a bad feeling.

“I’m not quite sure how you escaped us after that,” Mori continues where he left off, and Dazai is so sick of the man’s voice that he almost wants to rip his own ears off. “Probably Sakaguchi-san from the SDUP, I recall him and Oda-san being close… but that brings us to the present, doesn’t it? Four years later, you stumble into our lovely hime… Come, dear, let me tell you my running theory, and you tell me how accurate I am, yeah?”

Mori is looking at you now, eyes glittering as he waits for your response. Dazai has his own serious issues with the man, but he thinks it’s sick the way he’s enjoying your clear discomfort and increasing distress. Your jaw tightens a bit, but you nod, signaling for Mori to speak. Dazai’s nails dig into his pants as he waits for Mori to continue. Neither of you look at him, and Dazai’s lips part to speak so he can preemptively deny whatever Mori is about to accuse him of, but he can’t push a single word out. 

“Your first meeting with him wasn’t by chance. A cafe, maybe… a bar?” Mori offers, watching your face carefully for a reason. You look away at the second option, and the man’s lips curve up. “A bar, then. One you frequent, I bet. The one in Hodogaya-ku, perhaps? Your first meeting, but not Shuji-kun’s first time seeing you. Ui Koutarou—his journalism professor at YNU—wrote his first article implicating the Mori Corporation’s connection with the Port Mafia in February of this year, around a month before rising fourth year students register for classes. Shuji-kun, naturally, has been following anything related to the Port Mafia closely, so when he sees a class being offered in the fall by the same man who has been openly targeting the Port Mafia, he sees an opportunity and signs up for the class.”

No, Dazai tries to say. His lips form the word, but the sound doesn’t come from his lips. No. No, no, no, no. You look haunted suddenly, and Dazai remembers the argument he had with you during the government event in Tokyo. How cold and withdrawn you’d become. How when he confronted you next, you accused him of working with Ui Koutarou and blackmailing you for money. Mori is reigniting all of the initial fears you once had.

“Ui-san has had his sights set on you for quite a while, dear. You don’t need me to tell you that, you’re very well aware of the man’s hatred of you… When Shuji-kun started classes in the fall, Ui-san roped him into his plans, and you became his project. That wretched man had many documents on you. I had the Black Lizards raid his apartment after we captured him—most were harmless, detailing places you frequented and people seen around you, but when Shuji-kun became involved, he started using that information to manufacture meetings between you. I imagine that after you met him that first time, he started appearing around you rather regularly. Bump-ins at that cafe you like in Minami-ku, on the streets—he even started renting an apartment on property that we own after he realized the opportunity he had with Ui… he’s only been living there since the summer, you know?”

His last apartment wasn’t close enough to the school, Dazai wants to argue desperately. He’d been lucky that a cheap apartment opened up in Hodogaya-ku before the semester started—he’s been trying to get one since his first year. It has nothing to do with-

Dazai suddenly feels nauseous again, everything is spinning around him—he still hears Aunt Kiye screaming at him, he still hears the creaking of the rope his mother hung himself on, he still hears Mori’s confirming that Odasaku’s death was his fault. And now this, and you’re not looking at him again, and he’s not saying anything, why isn’t he saying anything? Why isn’t he denying this?

“He attached himself to you quickly, didn’t he?” Mori asks rhetorically. “Too quickly, I’m sure you had doubts—not even your ability makes people reliant on you as swift as he became. How long did it take for him to start prying for information? Trying to make you slip up and implicate yourself with the Mafia? Confess yourself as an ability user?”

The night of the earthquake when you showed up at his apartment, he remembers dizzily. He started pressing you on your political opinion because he remembered Ui saying that all of the criminal syndicates in Japan are going to do whatever it takes to prevent the military bill from passing. But he wasn’t… doing it to prove anything? He just wanted to know more about you, he was curious, he was finally putting the mystery that you are together. It wasn’t malicious—he just wanted to know you. That’s all it ever was, he’s only ever wanted to know you.

“When did you tell him about your ability? More about our organization? Around when the Guild started making their move in Yokohama, I’m sure. He never told you about his ability until his hand was forced. In fact, I’m willing to bet he lied and said he didn’t know he had one, but tell me, do you really think an assassin of the caliber of Oda Sakunosuke would not realize his ward had an ability that negated his own? That he wouldn’t be trained in how to use it… Most importantly, if all of this wasn’t a scheme of revenge—if he really did love you—then why did he never get rid of the flash drive that contained the proof that his journalism house published? The proof that got you thrown in prison?”

You’re crying.

Dazai’s throat swells when he sees the tears silently tracking over your cheeks. At once, he realizes that he’s never seen you cry before; he itches to reach over to you, to grab your hand or wipe away the tears. He doesn’t—partially because he doesn’t think he could move if he tried, but mostly because he knows that he’s the reason you’re crying. 

He wants to assure you that none of this is true. He had nothing to do with the Guild—they kidnapped him for fuck’s sake. He didn’t know about his ability, he didn’t even know Odasaku was an assassin. And he was just… careless with the flash drive, and he shouldn’t have been, but there was always so much going on, and he was so new to having someone in his life that really loved him that he was quick to bask in it and forget everything else.

He doesn’t assure you of anything, instead he watches as Mori reaches out to do what Dazai wants to do. He brushes away your tears and turns your face to look at him, a disgustingly sympathetic look on his face.

“I know you were eager to believe that someone could love you without your ability at work influencing them, dear,” Mori murmurs, “but people like us will never find a love that pure. There will always be other factors at work sullying it—wealth, revenge, threats. You understand now what this was, don’t you?”

No, Dazai wants to scream at you. He does love you, this wasn’t some ridiculous revenge plot for family he hardly remembered until this meeting, that-

“I do.”

Dazai finally is able to make a noise when those two words leave your lips. It’s weak—something caught between a wheeze and a whimper that sounds too loud in the silent room. He feels eyes on him—Chuuya and Kouyou’s in particular. Not yours. You stare down at the table.

“Ogai-dono,” Kouyou clears her throat. “If I may… perhaps we could… send the boy away. Abroad. Ensure he never comes back to Japan so we don’t have to risk him coming back and disrupting things.”

“We could give him a seat at the table,” Chuuya interrupts, ignoring the wide-eyed look both Kouyou and Piano Man give him because of the radical idea. “We’re down an executive anyway. We tell people who he is, that he supports the new regime. It’s what you wanted to begin with, right, boss? You wanted one of the grandchildren to legitimize the passing of power. We could make it work.”

“It’s too risky.” Mori isn’t the one to speak, Piano Man is, but he doesn’t look happy to do it. “Maybe back then it could’ve worked, but the Port Mafia killed his friends and family, and hunted him down. Too much has happened, he’s an unpredictable variable that we can’t risk. We can’t trust that he’ll just accept it all, that he won’t work behind the scenes to take us down. Giving him any leverage in the organization is the last thing we should do, but what Kouyou-”

“Leave him alive and we risk everything we’ve built falling apart—a civil war igniting, Yokohama being caught in the crossfires and all of our foreign enemies crawling into the city to reap the benefits of our fall. It’s one life or hundreds—thousands, even,” Mori interrupts, voice cool. He turns his gaze onto you. “I trust you know what has to be done, dear.”

Your expression is resolved, a heavy emotion in your eyes that tells him your answer before you even speak. “Yeah, I know.”

You stand up, and Dazai knows that it’s over. When you look down at him, it’s with a type of apathy that makes his stomach twist—he’d rather hate than nothing. His lips part to speak but he pauses when you shake your head slightly, so subtly that he almost doesn’t even notice it.

“Get up,” you say flatly, and then glance at Chuuya. “Chuuya, will you…?” 

“Yeah,” Chuuya replies without you even needing to finish the question. His voice is hoarse, he looks more than a little disturbed. “Yeah. Of course.”

Chuuya rises to his feet and then grabs Dazai’s bicep to pull him up to his feet too. Dazai doesn’t even have the heart to give him a dirty look in response, following along as he leads him out of the conference room and into the hallway. 

For a split second, Dazai really believes that maybe you’re just trying to fool Mori, you made him think you were taking Dazai to have him killed so that you can get him out of here safely, but even once you’re out of the conference room without Mori’s eyes carefully watching you, you don’t look at him.

“Get one of the clean up crews up here,” you tell one of the guards waiting in the hall instead as you frown at your phone, typing out a quick text to someone. You pointedly ignore how alarmed they are by the offhand comment to click on the button to the elevator.

When you look back at the two of them, it’s not to look at Dazai—it’s to look at Chuuya. The two of you are having a conversation, Dazai can tell that much, and he thinks that maybe he should be putting in the effort to figure out what’s going on, what you have planned, but he’s just… tired. He’s not even sure if he cares what happens to him anymore, and he figures the worst case scenario is that he dies at your hands, and of all of the ways he could go, he thinks that would be the most preferable, because at least you would be the last thing he saw.

He doesn’t try to speak again until the three of you are in the elevator and the doors have closed. 

“I-”

“Stop.”

Dazai is startled by the sharpness in your voice. He looks at you, but you’re still not looking at him, your lips are curved down as you stare at your phone, typing furiously. He glances up into the left corner of the elevator, noticing the cameras—maybe that’s why, he thinks a bit unsurely, deciding to stay quiet until out of the building. 

When the elevator doors open, it’s Chuuya that urges him to keep walking by nudging his shoulder. You don’t touch him, don’t look at him. There’s nobody in the main entrance of the building, which Dazai thinks is a bit odd, but he bites back any comments he might have when he sees a black car waiting outside the building.

The doors to the building open at your approach, and Dazai inhales the crisp, fresh air greedily, not even having realized how stifled he’d felt in that room with Mori, you, and the other Port Mafia executives. He thinks maybe that you’ll sit in the backseat with him and he’ll finally be able to talk to you, but you don’t. You open the door to the passenger seat and sit there without even sparing him a glance.

Dazai’s throat starts to swell again, stopping in his tracks as he stares at where you disappeared behind the car door. Chuuya pushes him forward, not letting him linger for long—he opens the door to the backseat and pretty much manhandles Dazai into the car before taking a seat next to him.

He recognizes the person at the wheel—Albatross, your friend. He’s driven you and Dazai around before, every time Dazai gets in the car with him, he makes a sharp comment aimed to embarrass you in some manner. This time, he doesn’t even look at Dazai through the rearview mirror. He just puts the car in gear and starts driving.

A pit starts to form in Dazai’s stomach. Dazai tries to initiate conversation with you again now that you’re outside of the Port Mafia headquarters within closed quarters, nails scraping against his pants as he decides what he wants to say.

“I d-”

“Stop.”

When you cut him off now, Dazai’s stomach flips. He stares at the side of your face, trying to understand why you won’t even listen to him. You can’t actually believe what Mori was saying, you can’t. You were faking him out, tricking him into thinking you fell for it—you had to be, you have to be. You can’t possibly believe him. 

“You won’t… even hear me out?” Dazai asks you quietly.

“There’s nothing left to say.”

Oh, Dazai thinks to himself, withdrawing. He stares at you for a moment before turning away stiffly, expression tight and strained as he stares out the window, watching the buildings pass by as they get closer and closer to the ports. 

You believe it, he realizes dully. You believe that it was all just a scheme. You believe that everything was manufactured, that he used you for some fantastical revenge plan, that he never loved you. You believe it.

But it doesn’t make sense, he thinks desperately. He doesn’t understand how you’re not seeing through it, and if you are, why aren’t you at least giving him some hint? He should try to say something again—he knows that, but he finds himself unable to. He’s a smooth-talker, quick on his feet, but never when it comes to you—since the day he met you, he’s been fumbling over words awkwardly, but now it’s costing him everything. He finds ash in his mouth preventing him from salvaging anything he might’ve had with you.

Dig your nails in and cling, he reminds himself, but his nails have become rounded out and blunted from how long he was scratching at his pants and skin while remembering all those memories he locked away. He tries to dig his nails in and cling, but his voice fails him and his nails can’t even find purchase on your skin, you slip out of his hands as easily as an eel.

He’s going to lose you. He might’ve lost you already.

Dazai thinks that’s worse than the realization that he really might be about to die.

The car comes to a stop much quicker than Dazai had hoped, and he stiffens when you waste no time before getting out of the car. He makes no move to join you outside, and Chuuya sighs next to him.

“Get out,” Chuuya says flatly. When Dazai doesn’t budge again, Chuuya snaps, “Get out of the car-”

“-and go, we don’t have time! They’ve found us.”

Dazai draws his knees to his chest, breath becoming a bit labored as his aunt’s voice echoes in his ears. He doesn’t even realize that Chuuya has gotten out of the car until Dazai’s car door is pried open. For a split second, he confuses the executive with his aunt as he’s yanked out of the car—he’s fourteen again and being abandoned by the only person he has left, and he can just barely bite back the “don’t leave me here!” that almost spills from his lips as his knees hit the ground hard.

Dazai is instantly hit with a thick scent that makes him gag. It’s noxious, almost entirely unbearable, clogs his throat to the point he almost struggles to breathe—a blend of rot, acrid chemicals, and something he doesn’t recognize, but it’s sickeningly sweet. As he pushes himself to his feet, he notices you pass your gun over to Chuuya, but in that moment, Dazai is more concerned with figuring out where he is, and when he does, his stomach drops.

The dumping grounds by ports stretch endlessly under the heavy, overcast sky. Mounds of trash rose like grotesque hills patched with scraps of torn plastic and suspicious lumps that Dazai doesn’t have to get close to know what they are. The ground is uneven and treacherous—a mix of sticky mud and sharp shards of discarded glass and plastic, and pools of murky water shimmering with oil slicks. 

It’s disgusting, and Dazai has a feeling it might be his final resting place. 

He trails over to the side of the road and his gaze tracks down to the ground directly below him. It’s not a far drop, hardly a foot or two, and certainly less gross than some of the other parts of the area, but that’s a low bar to meet. He tears his eyes away from the scenery around him to look back at you, lips parted to speak but he doesn’t say anything.

You’re leaning against the front of the car, watching him with an expression that Dazai can’t describe. Sad, maybe, resigned. Chuuya is back in the car, from what Dazai can tell, he's still fiddling with your gun—he wonders if this is his way of letting the two of you say goodbye in private.

“I do love you,” Dazai says. His voice cracks over the words. “No ulterior motives. No schemes. I just loved you. Love you.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, eyes drawing from him somewhere over to the side like you’re looking for something, but after a moment, you look back at him, your face a little softer than it was before.

“I know,” you tell him quietly. “I know, Osamu.”

Dazai’s lips part to say something back—he doesn’t even know what he wants to say, because confusion fogs his mind. If you know, then why-

Why are you doing this?

He doesn’t get the chance to ask. The car door opens and Chuuya steps back out, he passes your gun back to you and Dazai sees you subtly slide something into his hand too, but he can’t tell what it is. You sigh as you look down at the gun before looking back up at him again, he holds his breath as you make your way closer to him.

His lashes flutter shut, expecting to feel the cool barrel of the gun against his forehead, but his breath hitches when he instead feels the familiar warmth of your hand cradling his cheek. Your fingertips are flaked with Ace’s dried blood, but Dazai still leans into your touch, eyes sliding back open to look at you.

Up close, your expression is twisted with regret and… is that fear? Dazai can’t tell, he doesn’t care, he’s more preoccupied with memorizing the image of you before he runs out of time to.

“Forgive me,” you whisper so faintly that Dazai almost doesn’t hear you.

“I do,” he replies just as softly.

Your face crumbles as you look away. You take a step away from him, and your hand drops down from his face. Dazai instantly mourns the loss. You let out a heavy, shaky breath, sparing one last look down at the gun in your hand, one to Chuuya who stands half a step behind you, and then you look at Dazai again.

“Forgive me,” you say again, this time as you lift the gun—your voice is raspy, breath uneven.

Your fingers tremble so violently that the whole gun is unsteady, but Dazai doesn’t even care to look at it, gaze focused on your face instead. 

“I do,” Dazai repeats.

You pull the trigger. 

[welivetodream]

People thinking Atsushi is just a cute lil soft boy are so WRONG.

Atsushi is one of the best executed C-PTSD protagonists who are not just "kind" because they are the MC.

Atsushi is sassy, he is mean and says things like they are, even to his own mentor Dazai, he is not afraid of saying bad things. He doesn't hold back on his words. And he can be quite quick when it comes to using sass ("are you a landmower?" "Why are you dressed like a half-finished mummy, Dazai-san" "Akutagawa, fancy a cup of tea?" "That's why Dazai-san left you")

He's not just nice. He thinks he should be nice and kind because that's what someone like him should be like. Atsushi has such a low self esteem that he NEEDS to show kindness to everyone because he thinks just like he got a second chance at life, everyone else deserves it too.

That's why he saved Kyouka and Lucy, he recognised that want for bettering themselves in them. He wanted them to get a second chance like he did. Because to him, people are not good or bad, but they have the ability to change no matter how far they have gone.

This is why Atsushi is the only one who can recognise and understand Dazai's true personality. Whenever Dazai says something self depreciating Atsushi ALWAYS corrects him. In Dead Apple when Dazai is visiting Oda's grave, Atsushi understands whoever this person was, they were very dear to Dazai. At the end of Dead Apple when Dazai says he thinks he's not a good person, Atsushi tells him he has never thought of Dazai not being a good person. Atsushi knows Dazai was in the Port Mafia, but he STILL confirms he sees Dazai as a good person regardless of his past. Because Atsushi believes in second chances, and HE gave the second chance to Dazai that Oda must have wanted Dazai to get, even if the ADA accepted Dazai, no one has ever reassured him being a good person before. (Also in BSD wan, when Dazai says "I want to go out beautifully" during the fireworks scene, in the end-credits Atsushi sits near the river the entire day because he was sad that Dazai was suicidal. And in BSD mayoi, Dazai makes a snowman of Atsushi along with Oda, Ango and Chuuya, showing how much he adored Atsushi)

It's the same with Akutagawa; Atsushi doesn't understand why Akutagawa hates him and he's mean to Akutagawa at times but it never crossed a line. Akutagawa had done so many bad things to Atsushi but at the end they still worked together. Because Dazai understood the only person who will make Akutagawa use his powers to "protect" instead of "attack" is Atsushi. During the ending fight in S3, Akutagawa makes an armour for Atsushi as they combine their powers. And in the end credit scene of S5, we see Akutagawa protecting Atsushi AGAIN. This time Akutagawa isn't wearing the same coat Dazai gave him and for the first time shows true loyalty to Atsushi. ("Just the two of us?" "Do we need more?" *SCREAMS*)

Atsushi's relationship with the headmaster of the orphanage shows how much the trauma affected him as a child. When he can't forgive the headmaster at his death, he hates himself for not being able to give a second chance. And that's when Dazai steps in and tells him, "we cry when our father dies" something Atsushi really needs to hear and he finally cries.

Atsushi reassures Dazai all the time and Dazai snaps Atsushi out of his self depreciation all the time. Their solidarity throughout the story, shows why that day when Dazai chose Atsushi for the ADA; he recognised not Atsushi's powerful ability but his true ability in choosing to believe in people when no one can.

[fanon-canon-idfk]

Beast Dazai Who is Aware of the “Man Behind the Smile” Universe

Mafia boss Dazai waking up in a room he doesn’t recognize

He wakes up in these average, mundane sheets. Nothing like the rich silk draped over his own mattress.

He sits up, head pounding, still in his clothing from the night prior. Minus his coat; draped over the chair in the corner of the room.

Speaking of the room, it most certainly wasn’t his.

His thoughts were racing by now. Was he kidnapped? By whom? When? Where was his gun? How would he get out?

He quietly got up from the bed, quickly moving to his jacket. He slid his hand into the pocket, eye still on the door.

In his hand he felt the familiar metal of his gun, relief rushing over him- but not before being drowned out by more confusion.

Why would his captor leave him his gun? By the weight of it alone he knew the chamber was still full. Where was this captor? Why would they put him in their bed?

Just then, Dazai could hear footsteps growing closer. He pulled his gun out of his jacket pocket, aiming it to the door as he held it strongly in both hands.

The door began to gently creak open, the light from the hall bleeding in.

Once the door was fully open and a silhouette was clear, Dazai made a warning shot right next to his captor’s head.

“Hands up. Where I can see them.” He ordered, glaring daggers into the silhouette in the doorframe.

“I’ll need to put this down first.” The silhouette spoke, gesturing to a tray they held in their hands.

Dazai looked down as the tray came into vision. Food. A wholesome breakfast only seen in movies.

Dazai’s brows furrowed. He was even more confused now.

The silhouette then stepped into the room, revealing it to be a familiar face.

You were just another subordinate. A body guard of his in fact. What the hell was he doing in your bed?

He didn’t put down his weapon, not yet at least. He needed to know your intentions first. He was the leader of the Port Mafia after all, many wanted him dead.

“You must not remember last night.” You started, setting the tray of food down on the bed. You held both your hands up peacefully as you approached him.

“Clearly not.” He chuckled, a fake smirk on his face.

“I accompanied you to that bar you like. The small one.” You began explaining, doing your best not to talking with your hands.

“You seemed troubled. You drank nearly a whole bottle before the bartender cut you off.” You softly chuckled at the memory.

“I attempted to drive you home, but frankly I don’t know your address. You wouldn’t tell me so..” I gestured to the whole bedroom. “Here we are.”

The room was quiet for a moment, he was clearly thinking whether or not he should believe you.

“Don’t worry, you had the bed to yourself. I was on my couch.” I finished, leaving him to process my words.

After a few moments, he finally lowered his gun, mindlessly tossing it onto the chair with his coat.

He rummaged through the pockets of his coat again, pulling out his phone. “There.” He said as your own phone buzzed in your pocket.

A text showed on your screen, an address sent by the man in front of you.

“You can drive me home now.” He stated as he slipped his coat on, preparing to leave.

He walked past you, stealing a piece of toast from the plate you made him as he walked out of the room.

You sighed, following after him.

The story you told was technically correct.

Well, if you’re not counting the details that were left out..

Here’s how it really went:

You accompanied your boss to what he labeled as his “favorite bar.”

The night was quiet, he didn’t care much to speak with you as he drank. He only slipped a few words to the bartender, clearly more familiar with the man.

He didn’t utter a word to you until he was fairly drunk, telling you to sitting down. You followed suit.

He spent the night drunkenly chuckling as he told stories to nobody in particular, yourself simply listening.

The more drinks he had the more he slumped over. He was still clearly guarded, no matter how drunk. But he was noticeably leaning on you.

As the night got darker, more and more people left, leaving you and your boss to be the only customers.

He kept drinking until he was cut off, uncharacteristically pouty once he was.

His head was pressed against your chest, yourself sitting stiffly, unsure of how to handle your boss’s behavior.

He began murmuring insane things and a name you couldn’t quite make out. He kept speaking of different worlds?

Your boss was surely strange but you’d never heard a man talk about different universes and worlds when drunk.

He was also oddly clinging onto you. Your boss was never someone to be vulnerable with anyone especially not a mere employee like you. So why was he acting like you were close.

He began muttering things about you in another world. He talked like you were his friend- no, more than that- he talked like you were more than friends. He held onto you that way too.

You decided enough was enough, thanked the bartender for serving your boss, and started guiding Dazai out of the building.

You kept trying to ask him where he lived- since no average employees have it -but he refused. He kept telling you to “take him to your place” and “take care of him.” The man kept telling you to get him water and even bathe him!

What had gotten into your boss’s head?

But unfortunately since you didn’t have his address, you did have to bring him to your home.

You walked him to your bedroom (him trying to drag you to take care of him with what little strength he has left) and finally got him to lay down (after getting him his demanded glass of water) which led to where you were in present time.

As you closed the car door behind your now cold and quiet boss you knew your decision was best. You were right to keep that night’s happenings to yourself.

As you drive your boss home you wonder to yourself:

What got into him last night?

[getonite]

PLAYING : HOTLINE ! — DAZAI TUNES IN!

𝗧hinking about Dazai, your childhood friend and the one who shows his vulnerability only to you. Years after you've gone and left the Port Mafia and your terrible past behind, he knocks on your door. He looks downright terrible. His bloodied hands are trembling as he grips onto the fabric of Odasaku's coat, he's trembling, and on the verge of tears.

"Dazai, how'd you—" he practically leaps, his bandaged arms wrap around your neck, squeezing harshly, though you wonder how he found you... Ango.

There's not a word spoken between you two, but you know exactly what he needs. You pull him inside, carefully closing the door. "How about we clean you up first, okay?" You whisper. He stinks. His eyelids are puffy and there's red underlining his eyelashes. His hair is due for a wash with split ends, and he's pale. You guess he hasn't taken too much care of himself since you left. He silently nods, leaning his full bodyweight into you.

You bring him to your bathroom, carefully peeling the layers of clothing from him. The first to come off is the black coat he's regularly worn since he joined the Port Mafia.

His knees are to his chest as he speaks for the first time. "Mori-san's coat, burn it. I don't need it," he whispers in a raspy voice as if he's been screaming. You hum in acknowledgement as you set the dirty thing on the bathroom tile. Your hands carefully help him undress before starting to undo his bandages. "Years later and you still can't change your bandages like I told you to," he hears you whisper with a small smile. The bloodied and worn bandages fall to the floor as he hears the sound of streaming water come from the bathtub inches from him.

Once he's in the bath, you carefully rinse his body with warm water, lathering his new and old scars with soap carefully. There's a hint of guilt in your heart as you hear him wince, though this is probably for the best.

The pads of your fingers massage his scalp as you wash his hair, just like you did when the two of you were kids. You carefully trim his wet hair and brush it before getting him out of the tub, helping him dry off. You were likely the only person he could truly trust to see him so...bare and vulnerable. You couldn't exactly tell if the silence was tense or comforting, regardless you continued with is predictable mute moment. He always got like that when there was something wrong, you sigh.

"How about, I get you something to eat? I made some bento boxes, you can eat one and then brush your teeth, is that okay?" You speak softly and re-bandage his tender skin.

You smile softly at him when be finally nods. "Okay," you whisper and attempt to finish quickly before his mind changes.

As his hair dries it becomes its usual fluffy self, you'd assume hair matches personality; however, Dazai's eyes were close to dead. He only seemed to relax, feel different, when you touched him so gently. You quickly clean up and head to make him food. "You don't have to eat all of it y'know...just some, okay?" You whisper, setting the box in front of him.

He can tell your eyes are studying him as he eats, wondering what your Dazai from years ago has turned into. You look at him proudly when he finishes half of it before pushing it away. "Thank you," you whisper.

Handing him a toothbrush, you let him brush his teeth and fix the mess that is your bedroom, knowing he'll ask to sleep. And surely, 5 minutes later he stumbles to your doorway. "Can I...Can I stay?" You look him up and down, smiling softly. Compared to the terrible look he had when he first appeared at your door, he looks better. No longer like a man seconds from being a corpse.

"'Course," You smile, pulling back the covers, "C'mere."

He walks to the bed, crawling onto the soft sheets carefully. His brown eyes look at you expectingly, watching you get under the covers with him. He moves his body next to yours, putting his face into your neck without a word. "Ready to talk?" You whisper. His hoarse voice whispers a 'No.'

The calming effect your fingers have as they glide along him and his hair makes him feel like he's home. "Okay, just sleep. I'll be right here, I'm not leaving."

Dazai again, speaks no words, but his legs entertangle with yours. He remembers just why he came here. He missed you. Even if Odasaku is gone, he has you to make sure he doesn't go over the deep end. He'll save people, he'll grant Odasaku's last wish. But first, he wants to rest. Right next to his home.

"I promise, sleep." The man listens, squeezing onto you as if to test that this is real before drifting off.

For the first time in days...he's at peace.

A/N: dazai srsly needs a hug, 'n ill b the one 2 give it 2 him if no one else will! we need more fluffy fics of taking care of dazai, rather than dazai taking care of us. nyway, if u haven't signed up 4 the new tag list u totally should! there's new options n better format.

SUBSCRIBERS : @avatsu @sofliesy @tamreadfanfiction

[elizais]

dazai who doesn't explicitly tell the agency about his lover

how dazai acts when he has a crush/partner outside of the agency reader doesn't work at the agency nor is given a part if that makes sense?? this is dazai not explicitly telling anyone about her but when the agency picks up on it fluff fluff fluff, dazai in love

dazai who walks into the agency day after day, sometimes much later than others but still there nonetheless. walking in and smiling to himself more, his silly little crush on his mind. his silly little crush who he would not let be a quick hookup. he genuinely couldn't shake her out of his mind.

dazai who leaves work giddy one day, excited to go on another date. after completing all his work on his own so he could talk about the case to you. he actually read all the paperwork so he could tell you everything in it! kunikida is a fool to think he actually just started being responsible.

dazai who is seen checking his phone whenever he gets a notification and smiling as he types out something. smiling to himself when he sees your simple or complex messages. despite knowing how much you value someone who cares about work, he is willing to message you all day instead.

dazai who doesn't tell the agency immediately because he doesn't want them to think you are just a fling. he definitely had a bad reputation but he was willing to change everything for you.

dazai who doesn't notice that ranpo notices all of his new mannerisms. fridays must be a date night as he chooses to dress a bit nicer, adjusts his bolo tie before leaving and doesn't just throw his coat around like he usually does. choosing that carefully hanging his coat up would be better to prevent wrinkles.

dazai who only starts telling everyone about his special lady when he is on his phone (messaging you) and is teased by ranpo across the room.

"sooo what is her name, dazai?" the master detective asked as he sat on his desk, kicking his feet. upon hearing his name, osamu was instantly snapped out of his trance. "have i not told any of you?" he smiled. the rest of the agency looked up from their work, confused.

"i thought you gave up on the waitress ages ago?" yosano asked. "i did, months ago!" dazai responded as he walked towards the coat rack that he hung his coat up on. pulling out his wallet, he took out the polaroid of the both of you.

"that's [name]!" he shown the room, kunikida didn't seem to believe him until he took the photo out of dazai's hands. "do you not believe me?" dazai asked, fake offense in his voice.

the rest of the agency began to gather around the photo, in awe of the adorable picture. they had to admit, the moment in time of the two of your heads squished together with grins plastered on both faces.

"my belladonna.." he whispered to himself. "now that i think of it, there have been less suicide attempts.." atsushi pondered. "why would i do such a thing when i have her? at first when she declined a double suicide i was disappointed as she is the most beautiful woman ever but her personality is even prettier.."

this whole new attitude was incredibly different from everything they knew about dazai but if anyone deserved happiness, he did. and if he talks about you like this, then they had to be happy for the both of you.

dazai who after that day, brings a framed photo of the both of you and places it next to his laptop. a messy collage of small photos smashed into a frame. another polaroid with you dressed up with him on halloween. (the statue of liberty and a tourist). another photo of you dressed up at a fancy restaurant. there is even one where you both have messy hair and you have pressed countless kisses to his face with red lipstick on.

dazai who will never let you be in harm's way. he made a promise to protect people and if he could let you meet the man who made him a better person, he would in a heartbeat.

dazai who goes to yosano when you get sick for advice because he will NOT take any risks even if it is just a cold.

dazai who does not wipe off lipstick stains before work, and takes pride in having faint marks on his face from you.

dazai who can't wait to let the people who take care of him meet you, the reason he carries on.

dazai who is so happy when you get along with the rest of the agency. although when you and the agency girls are hanging out he becomes the third wheel.

dazai who talks about you all the time to kunikida, claiming he was an "expert boyfriend" and is more than happy to give kunikida relationship advice.

a/n! so this won the poll!! as always, weekends are writing time for me so please excuse my lack of presence on here from time to time!

[livelaughlovesubs]

can you write about tying dazai up after he was being naughty and fingering yourself infront of him, telling him if he got off to it he would be punished <3

Sure, I can do that :>

Dom!AFAB!reader x Sub!dazai

Warning: bondage, voyeur (?), masturbation (reader), punishment

“Are you sure you don’t need my help?” Dazai growled on the chair, hands tied behind the lean with a sturdy rope. The same has been done to his ankles, they were bound to the legs of the furniture, with no way to escape. His brown eyes were glued to your body, the eager redness on his face reflecting the desperation in his voice.

Not a single glance was granted his way, you ignored him. Eyes clenched shut as you focused on nothing but your own pleasure, fingertips rubbing your clit just the way you loved. You were there, right in front of him, only inches away, yet you also felt to far. Due to the restrictions he couldn’t touch you, feel you or hold you, only able to watch while you pleasured yourself. The way your slick started to coat the sheets got him so on edge, he was ready to beg. How he wished it was him instead, who made your body tingle with excitement.

Soon you changed to sticking your fingers inside yourself, gently inserting one, then two of them. Feeling his gaze on you like a hungry beast. Until he learns to know his place, you won’t show him any merci though. Slowly you pressed your fingertips against the sweet spot deep within you, it was a place you’ve known pretty good. Pumping them in and out, feeling the pleasure rush through your body and stimulating your nerves. He drooled, he drooled like a dog in heat as he kept staring at your vulva. If only he could get a taste of you, he swore he’ll treat you well.

“I don’t need help from haaah.. some incompetent pervert.” You finally answered his question from before, leaving a snarky remark while slowly drowning in your own enjoyment. Having him watch and curse under his breath isn’t all that bad, the helpless and envious look on his face was truly pathetic after all. Just looking at him, at his handsome face which was filled with despair and want for you was enough to make you wet. Feeling the arousal fill your stomach, causing for another wave of bliss to wash over you.

Dazai pouted, still playing the role of the brat. Though the act was crumbling, little by little. It was simply too much for him to Handel. This hot show and display you laid out in front of him wasn’t for nothing after all. His dick throbbed in his pants, begging to be released. It created a tent in his pants and it soaked the top layers, until the fabric became significantly darker. The way you gasped and moaned made him so jealous, and of whom? Of your damn fingers. At the same time it was stimulating..? Clearly he got off to it, despite his initial frustrations.

This didn’t go unnoticed by your sharp gaze. While continuing to finger yourself as you pleased, you gave him another rule, one he had to follow no matter what. Saying those cruel words in a sweet voice, “getting off to this? You better don’t, or I’ll punish you~” followed by your snickering, which was viciously but also oh so attractive. He immediately protested, “hey! That’s no fair, how can one not be addicted to your appeal?” Sweat rolled down his forehead, a slight tremble in his voice. He was nervous. Your little boy toy dazai was nervous, and pathetically so, all because of a little threat.

“Then try your best not to finish too early.” You suggested, then bit your bottom lips, holding back an especially loud moan as your finger reached just the right spot. A hot look on your face, matching his. The brunette was so worked up already just by watching you, you haven’t even touched him yet. This was his breaking point, he couldn’t do this anymore, it was pure torture! Begging you in a sweet manner, mustering all his charm in the hopes to shake your resolve, “oh but pleeaasee~!! All I want is to serve you, my beloved, my masterrrr~!” A smile creeped onto your lips, enough to send a shiver down his spine. You grinned confidently as you said, “nice try, slut, beg some more and I might let you cum tonight.”

[lnkedmyheart]

Okay so minimafioso on twt brought this up but this art has everyone hanging on threads like puppets around Fyodor.

And if you look closer all of them are hanging in ways that show that they are obeying the laws of gravity, limp, and doll like with their hair and clothes all hanging off in the correct angles.

And then you have Chuuya who is hanging upside down but his doll isn't limp. Yes he is a gravity manipulator but he is being controlled like a puppet with no autonomy on a string so why isn't he limp? Why is his hat not falling off? Or his coat and hair? Why are they perfectly in place?

Also like, everyone is strung up and the body parts pulled up are all held up by strings but Chuuya only has one leg on a string and the other is still perfectly positioned despite not being held up by anything.

Chuuya's doll practically looks like it is standing upright. But if Chuuya is a puppet he shouldn't have control over his ability like that. Maybe it's just me but the doll also seems to be fully aware and looking straight at Fyodor, being the only one whose head is not in a natural position for his body (everyone else is).

And the whole speculation with Chuuya having broken out of Fyodor's (Bram's) control. We know Chuuya was really exhausted as a vampire when we first met him. He was heaving and sweating, something no other vampire in my memory was shown doing (I could be wrong about that though). And he's not someone who'd get exhausted easily. We also know Chuuya has managed to power through corruption and not only recognised Dazai but also actively searched for him in his corrupted state and controlled his strength to not take off his head with a punch in that state.

We also know that words can have some effect on the vampires like Aku remembering his promise to Atsushi which could imply something because we got Dazai's words invoking their unbreakable bond followed by the last panel where we saw his eyes showing a seemingly fully lucid Chuuya.

And then we either dont see his eyes and fangs at all or he is entirely missing from the scene. He hasn't even hissed and shit. And he had left the control room he and Fyodor were in long before Fyodor gave him the order to kill Dazai. Also Dazai dragging himself right to the camera to let Fyodor know exactly where he is.

Idk about anyone else but that bitch is planning something.

[cxtori]

Osamu Dazai ✮ Reckless (Angst Version)

summary: you vent your frustrations to Dazai after the crazy stunt he pulled with Fyodor

genre: angst, kiiinda comfort, cleaning his injuries, Dazai being a protective idiot

wc:835

warnings: n/a, some Dead Apple spoilers

tori’s note: I’m posting a second version of this story that will be more lighthearted/fluffy than this one. I just liked the concept and when I started writing I realized this could go two different ways. So I just wrote both lmao. Here's the fluffy version!

You were frustrated. No, that only begins to describe it. You were pissed, furious, irate. Whatever other powerful words there are to describe extreme anger, you were feeling it. 

You pour some antiseptic onto the cotton pad in your fingers, the fibrous material soaking up the liquid quickly. You raise it to Dazai’s back and press it against the deep wound resting there.

“Ahh,” Dazai hisses. “Jeez, you could be a little more careful.” You can hear the pain in his voice, but you can also hear the teasing tone underneath it. Your face scrunches in annoyance.

“Shut up. I’m still mad at you,” you huff and continue to clean his wound. 

He’d explained what had happened, how he’d been quite literally stabbed in the back with a poison coated dagger. looking at its placement, it’s a miracle the blade didn’t hit his spine. just an inch further to the right and this whole situation could have been very different.

“I can’t believe you left like that. You should have told me,” you say quietly. 

“I couldn’t. It wouldn’t have worked out like this if I did, you know that.”

And you did. But still. He disappeared so suddenly and the next thing you knew he was working with someone who planned to destroy your home? You knew Dazai would never betray you like that, not seriously. But at the same time, seeing him in that light scared you.

You finish cleaning his back and apply antibiotics and bandages, adding to the many that were already wrapped haphazardly around him. 

Once you’re done, you move to stand in front of him and begin to clean the various cuts and scrapes on his front side. You prepare another cotton pad and swipe over the wounds, none of them being severe enough to require much attention.

As you work, Dazai’s eyes are keenly focused on you. He watches as you carefully clean him up, a soft but determined look on your face, though it’s almost entirely hidden by the frustration distorting your features. 

A smile spreads across his lips and he wraps a hand around your free one. You ignore him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of falling for his flirty little tricks. 

You were both aware of the effects he had on you and, though he didn’t use it against you often, he would use it to his advantage. And right now it was in hopes of getting you to not be angry at him.

As your eyes scan over the marks scattering his body, your vision begins to blur. Before you can stop it, there are tears falling from your eyes. Are these angry tears, sad tears or relieved tears? You have no idea. Maybe it’s all of them at once.

“You idiot. Why do you have to be so careless?” You ask, your voice just above a whisper. Dazai looks at you, his smile slowly fading into a thoughtful but somber expression. He knows you aren’t expecting an answer, but he replies anyway.

“Because I care for you.” And that’s really all it boiled down to. He recklessly puts himself in dangerous situations if he knows that’s what it’ll take to protect his home and friends. To protect you. Even so, you hated his methods.

“I was so worried, Osamu,” you say quietly, afraid that your voice will crack too much if you speak normally. Despite your low tone, the pain and fear in it rings loud and clear. Dazai’s hand grips yours tighter.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to act like you’re working alone.” He doesn’t reply, only drops his gaze to where his hand is wrapped carefully around yours. 

You’d had this conversation countless times before. That he is part of a team that is more than capable of handling serious situations. That he doesn’t have to jump head first into danger to solve problems. That he has other’s to lean on. That he has you. 

But no mater how many times you said this, it never changed. And it terrifies you.

“It’s just… what if you had-”

“I didn’t, that’s what matters,” Dazai says, cutting you off. His hand leaves yours to rest on your face instead, his palm cupping your jaw as his thumb strokes over your cheek, wiping away your drying tears. 

“Please, don’t ever do that again.”

“You know I can’t make that promise.”

He was right. He will continue to keep you in the dark if he knows that’s what it takes to keep you safe, even if you both hate it. There was no point in promising that he wouldn’t. 

His hand moves from your face to the back of your neck, tangling his fingers into your hair. He brings your face closer to his, his dark brown eyes looking into yours intently.

“I love you, more than anything,” He whispers and places a kiss to your forehead. “And I only want to protect you.”

And that’s what he’ll continue to do.

©Cxtori 2024 please do not copy, plagiarize, repost or translate any of my works. reblogs are appreciated

[femzai]

dazai fingering chuuya

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

“ see you in the hall like "hello, hello!" / up against the wall like "let's go, let's go!" ”

NSFW WARNING

tags ㅤᵕ̈ – fingering ofc, cooter having chuuya, spit kink >_>, me being silly lowkey

gee i wonder who requested this!? ^_^ ; (nikolai your sick and twisted and delusional but its okay i support you and your freaky endeavors!)

omgomg this time dazai is just dazai!! how surprising!??? and chuuya has a cooter becuz that man is not CIS sorry not sorry chat ♥︎ (he/him dazai, he/it chuuya btw!!)

word count — 1,164 words

“So cute.. aren’t you?”

Dazai held Chuuya’s face, looking at him intently. “You’re face is super flushed..” He muttered, head moving to kiss Chuuya’s neck. Biting and sucking at any piece of skin he can see, biting even harder whenever he hears a moan from the ginger. Moving one hand to grab Chuuya’s neck, and the other to gripped his waist.

“You asshole…” He gasped out, clinging onto Dazai’s coat. His legs spread apart from Dazai’s knee being right between him, rutting against his pant leg. “Fuck–” Chuuya whimpered, thoughts getting hazy each second. To think, poor Chuuya would be against his own wall, being kissed and toyed with by someone he hates. His grinding got more and more desperate, closely reaching its little climax just by humping. “You don’t know when to wait, do you?” Dazai sighed, frowning a bit upset at Chuuya’s neediness.

He hummed, moving his legs away from between Chuuyas. Its legs were shaking, and the denial of cumming was too much for him. “You… ASSHOLE..” He groaned out, contemplating whether or not he should throw out his dignity just to cum. “Aw.. Don’t worry..” He cooed, kissing Chuuya on the cheek. His hands slowly made their way to Chuuya’s thighs, grabbing his ass a little before picking him up.

Dazai walked him to the bedroom as fast as possible, tossing it onto the bed once there. It wasn’t long until Dazai was on right on top of him, holding his hips down and kissing. Practically spit on spit, purposefully as sloppy as humanely possible. Dazai made quick work of himself, removing his coat and unbuttoning his shirt. Throwing it somewhere that will be a pain to find tomorrow, but who cares right now? He moved his knee to tease Chuuya’s cunt through its pants, smiling a little as he heard his quiet moans.

“..Like some help, Chuu? I promise I’m good.”

He replaced his knee with his hand, rubbing through the fabric tauntingly. He shifted to move behind Chuuya, pulling the ginger to sit up between his legs. On the other hand, Chuuya let it happen. Quietly moaning while leaning into his chest more, hand covering his mouth. Dazai pressed down a finger onto Chuuya’s pants, hands knowing where his clit was and circling it quickly. Kissing and whispering sweet nothings into its ear, quickening his pace. “Do you want more..?” He panted, running his hands along the seam of Chuuya’s pants.

“ ‘Course you do, right? I’ll be nice to you this time, hm?” He began to hum, moving in to kiss more around Chuuys’s neck. Meanwhile, his rough hands busied themselves and unzipped Chuuya’s pants for him. Watching Chuuya kick them off desperately, taking off his boxers too in the process.

“Just.. get this over with, cunt..” He whispered, with gloved hands reaching to hold onto the fabric of Dazai’z pants. “Calling me names, already? How cruel are you?” “Only the worst–” Chuuya gasped loudly, being cut off by the feeling of rough fingers already circling its clit. Not a word could be said from the poor redhead anymore, holding onto anything it could while his clit was overtaking his senses. Dazai moved his other hand towards him, spitting on it as much as he could, before using it to mess with Chuuya’s folds; making it slicker with his spit and his pussy juices. He pouted, kissing Chuuya’s ear, and getting off to his bitchy moans.

Lord, was Dazai’s dick was getting even more harder by the second; the sounds Chuuya’s pussy made.. he just wanted to hear more thats for sure. After a while of teasing him, he decided to finally give Chuuya what he wanted but wouldn’t admit. He circled its hole for a little, listening intently to how Chuuya whined. Then, he put two fingers in with no hesitation, going in and out as fast as possible without a warning.

“Fuck! Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck!?” The feeling of both fingers immediately in him caught him off guard, with his back arched closer to Dazai. Speaking of Dazai, his hands worked overtime. One circling the gingers clit and the other with his fingers ramming into it. It was impossible for Chuuya to not close his legs, squeezing them as tight as he could to the sensation. “tsk, Don’t close your legs!” Dazai quickly grabbed onto his thighs, holding it back to give him room to work with while fingering him.

Chuuya was pushing its hips more onto Dazai’s hand, whining. His back arched, and his hands clawing onto anything it could grab. Dazai stopped for a second, feeling Chuuya shudder at the sudden pause. “Hold on, Chuuya..” He smiled, leaning over and spitting onto his pussy.

“..You’re fucking disgusting…” “Are you complaining?” “….Of course not.”

Dazai kissed the top of Chuuya’s head before slamming his fingers back in, smiling stupidly as he snuck a third in. Continuing to keep the same pace he had earlier, if not more sloppier. “..So.. fuckin’.. stuffed…” Chuuya whined, drool leaving his mouth. “Hm? You like that Chuuya?” He laughed, at this point Dazai was stupidly hard. He’s been rutting his clothed cock against Chuuya’s back without it knowing, hiding it behind his rough finger fucking. Chuuya’s needy whines were music to Dazai’s ears, mesmerized by him entirely.

Dazai picked up the speed quickly, seeing the familiar twitch whenever Chuuya was always so close. He whispered out more and more praises mixed with insults against its ear, just to get him to cum faster. He can’t always give Chuuya just praises during sex; the whore really needs to understand its little predicament. However, Chuuya now is just a poor, stupid, whimpering mess unable to even speak. It took Chuuya a few more seconds until he started to cum, shaking and giving a final loud whine.

Dazai waited until Chuuya stopped shuddering, carefully pulling out his cum covered fingers from inside of it. Dazai stared at his fingers, feigning curiosity. He waved his fingers around for a little, until he placed all three of his fingers in front of Chuuya. “Clean them.” That was all Chuuya needed to hear before lazily opening his mouth. Allowing Dazai’s fingers to be shoved into it before he started to suck. Its vision was refocusing as he cleaned off his own cum with his mouth, making sure to keep his tongue beneath all three fingers. Dazai moved his hand once he felt satisfied with Chuuya’s work, re-examining his hand and everything.

“..So what were you saying about me being gross?”

“..Shut… up.”

Dazai sighed, frowning dramatically while moving his hands hug Chuuya. The ginger didn’t fight this, sighing himself before try and calm down. They stayed like that for a moment, being in each other's presence until Dazai broke the silence. “…How about we do some more?” Chuuya scoffed upon hearing that, moving away from Dazai before turning to face him. “…I’m going to permanently shut you the fuck up.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Chuuya!”

a/n – smut. scares me sometimes. and this is one of those times LMFAOOO

[savvyreyes4587]

Your Choice, My order.

Pm!Dazai x Fem!reader

Author's note: Chapter one came out quicker than expected so I hope you'll enjoy it and sorry if it's too short, also half edited.

Summary: Dazai is intrigued with you but there is only one problem… you're not happy about it.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Blood, death, gore and mentions of suicide.

Go to Life Waster Series.

"So are you going to tell me?" Odasaku didn't have to look at Dazai to indicate what he was talking about, they both knew what he was asking.

Dazai only stared ahead, the emptiness he felt inside out somewhat ceased but it wouldn't fully go away… ever.

But truth be told, now he at least had something to keeo him intrigued enough until it either go away or simply… die and that something happened to be you.

Someone they called Time Weaver, a being able, to not see ahead into the future like Odasaku, but to manipulate time itself, go back in it or apparently slow it down, if what Chuuya told him was true.

She was a ghost to everyone, wherever she was, death followed and not a single person had seen her face before, at least not people he knew until Chuuya jumped in one day and claimed that he knew what you looked like but the slug refused to elaborate on when or why or how.

That was how he managed to corner you when he saw you at the bar which unfortunately proved that he was right, that he knew what you looked like but the idiot didn't think his actions through or how powerful you were and if it wasn't for Dazai then at least half the port mafia would've been attending his funeral right now.

Dazai was a curious being even though the abomination he was… it was human nature to be curious and he needed to know more about you, your ability, what it could and couldn't do. 

He desperately needed a distraction from the dark shadow looming over him, fucking with his mind and pushing him to a terrifying point that hadn't came in a very long time and you were that distraction whether you wanted to be it or not.

"Dazai?" It was Ango's voice that pulled him back go reality, the music from bar Lupin returning to his hearing and he turned to look at the two men looking at him and wondered if they saw into his thoughts…

Still, keeping appearances, Dazai sighed dramatically and finally answered. "She can control time." 

Odasaku looked like he was going to jump to the conclusion that you were like him but Dazai spared him the confusion after taking a swig of his drink.

"Not see into the future but she can slow time down, rewind it, shoot ropes from her body and who knows what else, she still didn't wake up yet." He clarified nonchalantly as if he didn't give a shit about the ability user or the ability itself but only a blind man wouldn't see the intrest he had in both.

Ango scoffed, his disapproval obvious "Yeah because you thought it was a good idea to have Kouyou as your plan B." 

Dazai pouted and shook his head. "I didn't know she was going to hit her that hard." 

"What do you expect from someone with the Golden Demon?" Ango barley moved an inch when Dazai hid himself behind Odasaku as if Ango was coming for his head.

Dazai tightened his hold on Odasaku's coat as he chanted. "Be gone, Devil." 

Oda only shook his head at the weird argument before an alarm went off on all their phones, indicating an attack on the port mafia.

In a blink of an eye, the childlike behaviour disappeared as they all stood up and got inside Ango's car as he drove them to the port mafia HQ while Dazai tried to contact Chuuya, his mood ruined thanks to the sudden emergency. 

When Chuuya finally answered after the fifteenth call attempt, that was how he started the conversation. "You waste of bandages! I told you we should hold her at a warehouse and not here!" 

Dazai's eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas day, hearing that you were awake, wrecking havoc and probably ruining Chuuya's outfit and mood… this night was starting to get better.

"That's why an emergency was called?" Dazai asked as Oda eyed him curiously, especially with the creepy smile Dazai had on his face.

Chuuya let out a trail of curses and the sound of things breaking, glass shattering and guards groaning in pain painted a nice picture for Dazai of the situation. 

"Yeah she woke up and chose violence and half our men are with the boss and the other half is dead or dying so could you make it here quicker, you dickhead!" Chuuya yelled on the other line as shuffling was heard. 

Probably moving to a better hiding spot. Dazai thought to himself before ending the call and telling Ango to go faster while smiling like a madman.

This night was going waaaaay better than his expectations. 

A few minutes later 

When Dazai and Oda arrived at the higher floors of the building he expected wreckage and perhaps a few bodies here and there but what he didn't expect was the bloody massacre all over the place, blood covering every corner, bodies and body parts all around…

Oda looked at Dazai as if he was waiting for an explanation but how was he to explain when he himself didn't understand. 

Dazai's intrest in you was increasing by the second and he didn't even have to look for you, a body flying past both him and Oda told him all he needed to know and he rushed in that direction, his coat flying with every step until he reached his destination where Chuuya was fighting you.

The young executive took you in, the unhinged look in your eyes, the blood covering your face and clothes, ropes shooting out in every direction to get hold of Chuuya who was barley using quarter of his ability on you, holding back with all his might.

You were the very image of every emotion that Dazai ever felt, painted in one being and the stupid waste of bandages as Chuuya called him stepped closer to you, ignoring Odasaku's protests.

You body went rigid for a second and you were right in his face in a… mere parts of a second, a rope shooting its way out and wrapping around his bandaged throat, lifting him off the ground.

"No guns this time?" You questioned, voice steady and booming with authority granted by your ability. 

Chuuya was beginning to move your way, ready to knock you out clean off when Dazai's hand shot out, ordering him to stop as he gazed into your eyes and he shook his head to the best of his ability with your rope tight on his throat.

"No guns." He barley let out and you smirked at him, expression holding every evil in the world.

"Wrong move." You moved a new rope, ready to strike him with it.

"But a man near Keisuke has one." He used the ace up his sleeve even though he wished he wouldn’t have to use it this soon, it could have came in handy later.

"What?" You were taken a back, shocked with what he said and Dazai took the opportunity to use the rope you had around his neck.

He pulled it forward, pulling you with it and placed his hand on your cheek, nullifying your ability and you both stumbled to the ground and he could only watch in amusement as you didn't understand what happened. 

His chocolate brown eyes pierced into your lost ones and he almost felt bad for his next words… almost. "If you don't want Keisuke to have a bullet in his head in the next minute, you will listen." 

Dazai could swear that he had never seen someone dare glare at him with so much visible hatred the way you were doing, you eyes fiery unlike any he had seen and maybe you could compete with the way Chuuya's looked in corruption. 

Yet, you didn't attempt to move as you took in the damage you've done and the three men surrounding you, one of them who didn't kill unless necessary, one who pretended that he was the baddest soul to ever walk the earth but he was entirely different and one… who didn't have a soul, much less empathy, much less trouble with killing you if you tried anything funny.

At last the weight of the situation you were in dawned upon you as Dazai saw how your body language changed from hostile to wary as you spoke. "He doesn't have anything to do with it." 

Dazai chuckled, unable to content himself at little naive you… no man, would get himself into taking care of an ability user like yourself, without having anything to do with it but he wasn't surprised you didn't see it. 

It was obvious that you led with your heart and emotions more than logic which would cause trouble if he managed to do what he wanted, which itself would be a miracle for you.

You almost stumbled backwards when Dazai knelt down, on the same level as you and his eyes looked haunting as he talked with so little emotion, as if he didn't even know them.

"He has everything to do with it but if you cooperate… his involvement could decrease if I say so." 

For the second time, you made the mistake of maintaining eye contact with him and he too was making mistakes right now, the mistake of letting himself deal with you directly, he could feel the invisible web of yours, luring him in and he was letting it.

"What do you want from me?" You asked, or rather demanded as you brought yourself closer to him to the point where you were breathing the same air.

He smirked, leaning in closer. "You will join the port mafia under my command and together we will learn your ability." 

He knew that if you fell in the hands of someone else, the port mafia wouldn't last much, if you were against them even if you and chuuya fought each other, it would lead to a destruction like the arahabaki one and the death of both of you.

Your voice shook with fear or rage, who knew. "And if I refuse? I could kill myself and then neither you nor anyone else can have any use of me." 

At that, Dazai had to pause everything momentarily and observe you for a minute. 

A girl who had abilities that were probably not naturally given but forced upon you, no home, no one to call family… all these would probably be enough reason to suggest that you might actually off yourself but there was one thing that changed the whole equation… Keisuke. 

The young executive had sent people all over where you usually appeared and managed to gather information. 

Tanaka Keisuke, a man who owned a market but it was actually a front to what or who he truly was, he found you around two years ago, saved you from a certain fate at that time and ever since, you became his protector and saved him at every turn… treating him like a brother you never had.

But someone like Dazai knew better than that saviour story but you were naive and someone who could be drained emotionally which Keisuke used on you perfectly but that also was why Dazai decided his answer to you question. 

With all the confidence he asked. "And leave Tanaka Keisuke all alone for the people who are after you to kill him? You wouldn't be that cruel, right?" 

The fury returned to you features. "As if you're letting me protect him? You're blackmailing me." 

"I didn't say I was a saint, Belladonna, but it's a give and take situation. You give yourself to us, and you take our protection to Tanaka. It's a win-win, don't you think?" 

He could see it behind those eyes of yours, the gears slowly turning and thinking of every possible outcome to any answer you would give.

"So what will it be, Bella? Us or Tanaka's death?" Dazai questioned.

Your gaze drifted to Chuuya, who was watching the scene unfold with a frown upon his face, not liking Dazai's plan but he could see why you turned to Chuuya, to you he probably looked like someone who might ensure his word.

Chuuya came closer, tone soft, meant to lure you to their trap. "I will be in direct control of his protection, he will be safe if you agree." 

You fell silent as your eyes were stuck on the floor but Dazai saw it, he had already won and you would be agreeing.

Step one was complete, now to the more complicated step… convincing the boss to take you in…

.

.

Taglist: @v15aexe

If you want to be added to the taglist, leave a comment;)

[iovetecchou]

That Funny Feeling ⧸ Dazai Osamu

༞ Contains...! !TW! this fic contains heavy topics such as: suicide, depression, anxiety, and self-deprecating thoughts. hurt/comfort type beat, hugging, gentle touches, hand holding, swearing, suggestive implications but NOTHING actually happened! kunikida is just silly, dazai really is a sweetheart in this ):

༞ GN Reader.

༞ 2,494 words.

a/n: if you have struggled with your own mental health past or present, just know that you are not alone. i love you and am so proud of you for still being here and pushing through each day, no matter how difficult that can be. never be afraid to rely on someone close to you when things become too much to bear, you are worthy of living and deserve to be loved.

Some people just aren't cut out for life. We are all dealt a hand, some cards interchangeable. But for the most part, they mold us; and make us who we are. They map out the rest of our lives. So what are you supposed to do when all the cards you've been handed don't play in your favor?

Even the interchangeable cards; you discard them only to pick up more rotten ones. Your judgment is poor, and your decision-making only gets you stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

You envy the people who were gifted better cards. People who were not condemned from the start. Those are the people who make something out of their lives, the ones who are deserving of taking up space.

You know this sounds self-deprecating, and yeah, it is. But to you, it's also logic. You think that's why you dislike Dazai Osamu.

When he talks so freely about death, his desire for a perfect suicide. It makes your stomach turn, not for obvious reasons, but for selfish ones. He plays off his pain as a joke so no one thinks twice about it when he asks a pretty stranger to "commit a double suicide" with him.

You try so hard to conceal your suicidal thoughts, hiding your depression behind a pretty mask. Showing up to work each day with a smile on your face and a "can do!" attitude. 

You and Dazai really are the same in that aspect, masking your pain so it's less noticeable to others around you. 

Your abdomen twists into knots when he talks so freely about suicide because it causes your mind to wander and your mask to slip. Dazai always seems to pick up on that slight change in you when it happens, too. His chestnut eyes bore holes into your profile from where he sits beside you. You can feel his eyes on you as you try to smile brighter, putting on a chipper face as Kenji updates you on how the cows on his farm are doing.

You hate it. It feels like he's reading your mind; retaining all your deepest darkest secrets. Does your face really give you away so easily? No... It can't be that. You've been working at the Detective Agency for a long while now, and since then, no one else has ever assumed something was wrong with you. 

If they only knew how pitiful your life really was. As much as you love all your colleagues at the Agency, you hate working. Waking up is exhausting, and you dread the repetitive daily routines you're forced to accomplish. On your off days, you sit at home alone- by choice. Interacting with others is draining, and when you're urged to participate in social activities, the anticipation and anxiety eat away at you until the day finally comes. 

Much like today, the day you've been letting eat away at you since the mention of a work party was brought to your attention. You practiced different smiles and laughs in the mirror, shaking your head and trying again when your "act" seemed too unnatural. You probably changed your outfit ten times before ultimately deciding on the same old thing you usually wore. 

Your hands were coated in perspiration as you balled your fingers, making a fist. You took in a shaky breath as you brought yourself to finally knock on Chief Fukuzawa's door. He welcomed you with a tight-lipped smile and a nod of his head, stepping aside to let you through. Immediately, you felt his eyes on you. Dazai watched your little performance as you greeted everyone, and when it was finally his turn to watch your act up close and personal- you froze. 

His eyes were too intimidating. You felt exposed in front of him. It irked you that he had such an effect on you. Why was it so easy to pretend with everyone else but him?

"Aww, where's my greeting?" Dazai smirked devilishly at you, raising his eyebrows slightly as he leaned in close. All-encompassing, invading your personal space. 

You remained quiet. You were on the outside looking in, screaming to yourself to say something- anything. Your gaze shifted to the floor as your hands came up to bunch up the hem of your shirt, rolling it between your fingers; an attempt to self-soothe. 

"I..."

"Oi! Stop teasing them, Dazai," Yosano shouted from the kitchen, plum-colored eyes still fixated on the fizzy concoction she began making for herself.

The sound of Yosano's strong voice ripped you from your stupor. Your head shot up, only to notice Dazai was still gazing at you- studying you. 

"I would do no such thing! I'm hurt that you think so low of me, Yosano!" Dazai's intense gaze finally eased up on you as he whipped his head around to face Yosano. The tall brunette man clutched a hand over his heart in feigned affliction. 

You took that as your opening to slip away, excusing yourself to the restroom. You hardly noticed the way Dazai's attention was drawn back to you at the sound of your hurried footsteps. "Hey- wait up!" 

You quickly pulled the bathroom door shut behind you. You could hardly look at yourself in the mirror, too ashamed of yourself for freezing up back there. The cool tile floor welcomed you as you sunk, curling into yourself. You hugged your knees as they drew closely into your chest. You could feel your rapid heartbeat in your throat, anxiety rising by the second.

"You know, I wouldn't be sitting on the floor if I were you. Let's get you up." Nothing registered until you felt firm hands grasp your biceps. A strong force drawing you up to rely upon your shaky legs. 

"Why- what are you..?" Your sentence fell off. You weren't entirely sure what you were trying to ask. Your mind was too convoluted with disappointment; shame for yourself. 

"The door was unlocked so I figured I'd let myself in! You weren't looking too hot out there, and I wanted to check up on you." Dazai's warm hands still cradled your biceps, untrusting the support your trembling legs half-heartedly gave you in your current state. 

"I'm fine," You chuckled out of nervousness before continuing, "I'll be out in a minute, so you can just go." You could tell by how Dazai looked at you that he didn't buy your lie, not even for a second. 

He let out a deep sigh, large palms moving up to your shoulders before he blurted out, "Stop, just- just stop. You're not fooling me, so quit it with the peachy-keen act. Why do you insist on hiding behind a facade?"

"Why do you?!" You shouted back. You brought your hands up to swat his hands off your shoulders. The shift between distress and rage made your legs feel more grounded. 

Dazai gaped at you for a moment. He genuinely looked taken aback before his face shifted into a tepid expression. He let his arms settle against his sides, his demeanor appearing more taut than usual.

"This isn't about me. Stop deflecting." His voice was eerily calm, making you feel unsettled. Seeing a more serious side to Dazai was far and few between for you. 

"But it is! I hate you... I hate you so much. You- you..." Your vision began to blur as tears spilled past your lashline and down your sullen cheeks. How embarrassing, you thought. Crying in front of the man that made your stomach turn. 

Dazai brought his hand up to your cheek, brushing away the onslaught of tears with the pad of his thumb. "I believe that hatred is displaced. You just don't want to acknowledge that."

Your eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as you drew your hand to grasp his wrist. You tugged with all your might to pull him from your cheek, but no give. Dazai stubbornly kept his large palm on your face. The warmth from his hand seared your skin. It was neither comforting nor unpleasant. Just... unfamiliar.

"You're wrong, I hate you-"

"No, you hate that you see yourself in me."

Your hand fell from his wrist. He was right, and deep down, you knew that. But you refused to admit it. It was shameful. You liked to hate Dazai because it took attention away from the real problem at hand, yourself. 

Dazai let out a sigh as he continued to wipe away your tears. "Tell me to stop if you hate it, but I'm going to hug you now." Before you could process, Dazai embraced you. His hand that was caressing your face only moments ago now cradled your neck. His other arm wrapped around your frame, enveloping you.

"I understand your pain well... I can see myself in you too. But I don't despise you, you know. I actually... worry for you. You try so hard to pretend that everything is fine. It must be exhausting."

It felt like your heart was being squeezed, as if your ribcage was collapsing in on itself. His words shot right through you, as did the guilt. You had been so unfair toward Dazai up until now. Using your displaced disdain for him as a distraction because you were too much of a coward to hold yourself accountable.

It ached so much to come to terms with. Your arms felt heavy as you pulled them up to wrap around Dazai's lanky frame. You quietly sobbed into his chest, grasping your hands into the back of his shirt desperately; as a small child would cling to their mother. 

Dazai hummed softly into your hair, welcoming the silence with open arms; as he did you. You were sure all your colleagues were wondering why Dazai and yourself had been in the restroom for so long, but you hardly cared at this very moment. 

For the first time, in a long time, you felt seen. Like you didn't need to hide when Dazai was in your presence... because even if you did- he would know. Being vulnerable felt similar to what you imagined walking a tightrope hung across two tall skyscrapers entailed. So, to say you were apprehensive about this was an understatement. 

However, in the same breath, it felt freeing. It took a little bit of weight off your shoulders to share your burdens with another person. But never in a million years did you think the person who brought you solace would end up being Dazai Osamu. 

"I'm sorry, Dazai- I'm so fucking sorry. I-"

"It's okay. Believe me, I treated people a lot worse than this from my own displaced hatred," Dazai interrupted. Caressing your hair softly, hyperaware of the wet feeling seeping through his shirt and smearing over his skin from your tears before he continued, 

"Just... just promise me you'll talk to me if it ever becomes too unbearable to handle on your own. I know how it sounds coming from me, I'm a hypocrite- huh? But trust me when I tell you… you are deserving of this thing we call living. Even if you can't see it yourself, I can... and I will remind you of that fact until I'm blue in the face if I have to." 

You pulled back from Dazai's chest as you sniffled, eyes scanning his stoic face. He smiled at you softly, rubbing up and down the sides of your arms in a comforting way. "There you are. I was beginning to think you cried your face off!" You chuckled at his dumb quip, letting your fingers untangle from the cloth adorning Dazai's back.

"Well, this is embarrassing... and I'm sure at this point all the others think were up to no good in here." It was Dazai's turn to laugh as his hands drifted lower, grasping yours softly. Your fingers intertwined as a lopsided grin painted your face.

"So let 'em! Who cares? The only thing that matters is that your heart is beating and you're here. Still standing in front of me." Your smile dropped slightly, the urge to cry bubbling back up, making your throat tighten.

"Dazai," You tightly squeezed his hands within your grasp. Scared that if you loosened your grip for even a second, this moment would be gone before you could say everything you needed to. "I'm really glad you're still here, too."

Dazai closed his eyes for a moment, his smile wavering. "There's so much pain in the world... sometimes it's hard not to notice it. I couldn't shut it out every time I felt your distress. That's why I kept a close eye on you all this time. I'm not just some creep with a staring problem,"

You both laughed at that sentiment before he continued, "I know with each day those painful thoughts are waiting for you. But it's not only that, there's also possibilities. Possibilities you can only discover as long as you're alive."

Your hands still clutched his with great force. His words caused you to cry once more as Dazai's eyes softened. He quietly cooed at you, whispering "don't cry," so gently, it was almost inaudible.  

"Dazai... I hope you know the same can be said for you, and your life," You paused, trying to swallow that lump in your throat before you continued. "I... want to help you- help you live. I know it doesn't mean much coming from me, but as long as you're still here I will do whatever I can to help you. I swear it."

Your tear-filled eyes bored into his chestnut ones. Desperately hoping your words got through to him. Dazai inhaled a shaky breath, eyebrows raising slightly. His lips curved into a tight-lipped smile before he let out a small chuckle. "You're really something else, you know that? Not even ten minutes ago you were shouting about how much you hate me. Now we're best buds... how cute!"

You knew he was deflecting, you guessed being vulnerable was just as daunting to him as it was for you. Before you could say anything more, the door flung open. Both Dazai and yourself whipped your heads in the direction of Kunikida shouting. 

"Dazai! Just what do you think you're doing- wait a damn minute! What did you do to Y/N to make them cry?! Get away from them this instant you damn pervert!"

Kunikida gripped Dazai by the collar, dragging him out of the restroom. When your hands untangled from his, you felt uneasy. There was so much more you wanted to say, but it would just have to wait... for now. 

You couldn't help but chuckle to yourself at the sound of Dazai shouting for you to help prove his innocence from presumably the living room. For the first time since you stepped into the bathroom, you looked at yourself. Taking in your disheveled state.

Ah, there it is again. That funny feeling. 

don't accuse me of making this a self-insert, i will cry!

[vii0so]

[BSD 119] Theory/Analysis

"Other Half"

I think this ties into the 'opposites/complements'. Fyodor realised Dazai had Chuya and now he's about to realise Atsushi has Akutagawa (Light & Shadow). He is looking for his 'other half' quite literally - the sole being that will complement his existence.

Basically 2 halves that complete each other. Like a jigsaw puzzle (except it's only 2 puzzle pieces that only fit each other).

Fyodor's comment "even Dazai was not fit to be my other half" could be interpreted as this: 2 puzzle pieces that seem almost identical and look like they would fit, but when you try to connect them you realise there are small differences to the shape.

Meaning, the pieces - no matter what - are not meant for each other. In this example one piece has it's perfect match - the only puzzle piece that will ever be his other half: Dazai has Chuuya.

That leaves Fyodor searching...again (seriously, this guy has lived over 2k years and he is still at square 1). So for now I'd like to assume that Fyodor's realisation that Dazai couldn't be his other half happened during the prison arc. Fyodor had been 'testing' Dazai to see if he was fit for the 'other half' role.

Also, in the end (just before Fyodor's "death") where Dazai reveals that he's alive and that Chuuya was never a vampire, Fyodor's shock seems more on point if you think of it as the reaction of realising Dazai's other half was Chuuya this entire time.

Next part will be about Atsushi in Fyodor's endeavour for his 'other half' and how it involves Akutagawa:

"So, why can Atsushi NOT be Fyodor's other half?"

Glad you (nobody) asked!

...First I'll go on small rant on why it's impossible for our lovely 'bookmark' to be the 2k+ old rat's other half.

Enjoy my constantly changing mind's thoughts :)

█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒

What's needed to be the 'other half' of anyone?

Synergy

This is the closest and most(?) accurate word to describe the 'other half' business.

In short, 'synergy' is the interaction of two 'anything' that produce a greater effect together rather than apart.

Think how Akutagawa and Atsushi work better and are stronger when fighting together/ complementing what the other needs (Atsushi using Akutagawa's coat/combining abilities is an excellent example of this) rather than when fighting alone.

"So, their abilities being compatible is all they need to be the 'other half'?"

...Well no

Synergy isn't just about abilities, it's about effect.

Imagine you have a fire...ok good, now think of something that would make the flame rage higher - destroy more...do you have it, good

I have no idea what you thought of and it doesn't matter (maybe this whole thing wasn't a good example...). Well I thought of gasoline. You know the "don't add fuel to fire" saying?...ok.

Now think of Dazai and Chuuya for a moment (shouldn't I be talking about Aku n Sushi???)

Hypothetical scenario:

Chuya starts a fire (small, like a campfire or smth).

Then Dazai comes along and pours gasoline where the fire is.

Well...it's interesting right? (you're getting sidetracked!) oh.

Basically that's 'effect' (cause and effect - gasoline and raging fire)

So synergy = effect(a) + effect(b) = cause = effect(c)

(I really hope this makes sense to you who somehow found this)

effect(a) = first half (FH)

effect(b) = other half (OH)

cause = e(a) + e(b)

effect(c) = FH + OH = Best performance, Godly power, and more.

We continue ;-;

I wanted to sidetrack and explain soukoku's synergy/other half bs but I need to get back to our (often forgotten) protagonist and his edgy bf...So off we go!

Ok, finally back on track! ...(did you forget where we left off?)

Here! "So, why can Atsushi NOT be Fyodor's other half?"

███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒

2. Fyodor's obsession with the 'bookmark'/Atsushi's ability.

I could be done by just saying: "abusive relationship" but I won't...I'm too far in to stop now.

Let's start by seeing everything right with 'other halves':

Synergy: When they are alone, they are a pebble, but when they're together, they are a dual piloted mecha that in theory can kill a god...In short, they work best when together.

Ability compatibility/harmonisation

Essentially soulmates (the literal tied-together-by- the-soul type): will only ever have this synergy with their other half. Meaning the full potential of their power will never be understood/unlocked unless done with their other half.

Literal other half: basically all I've said above. Their puzzle piece only fits with their other half.

█████▒▒▒▒▒

⋘ ERROR ⋙

⋘ [Brain] is not responding ⋙

⋘ Ｒｅｓｔａｒｔｉｎｇ．．． ⋙

Ok...let's get back to the main Question:

"Why can Atsushi NOT be Fyodor's other half?"

I'll get straight to the point:

There is no synergy

They are not destined/fated

They don't help each other

Fyodor only wants to use him as the bookmark

Fyodor is aware that Atsushi is not his other half (he called Atsushi his "remaining option") but is still forcing it upon him.

You can't force someone to be your other half. It's a soulmate thing.

Fyodor is looking for godly power, not a companion/partner (not meant romantically).

Fyodor won't be able to do what he wants anyway because there is no synergy in play here. (maybe he'll use the 'page' to force it, but it probably won't work. He could also try getting Aku to kill him and then steal his body, but I still don't think it'll work)

And the last and most important point is:

Atsushi has Akutagawa

███████▒▒▒

Akutagawa is Atsushi's other half. Therefore no matter what Fyodor does, he will never be able to fit Atsushi's puzzle piece.

I considered writing down why Aku is Sushi's other half based on their abilities, but maybe it'll be in a seperate post. For now here are the main points:

Darkness and Light

Yin and Yang motif

Like, I'm sure most people are aware, these two might as well be the definition of this motif.

"Yin and yang can be thought of as complementary and at the same time opposing forces that interact to form a dynamic system in which the whole is greater than the assembled parts and the parts are important for cohesion of the whole." Georges Ohsawa. (1976). The unique principle : the philosophy of macrobiotics. George Ohsawa Macrobiotic Foundation.

Just realised this is the same as the synergy I was talking about earlier...Oh well, I guess it all ties together in the end! :D

██████████ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ!

Here is the TLDR:

Fyodor is looking for some form of ultimate power, so he needs a 'other half'.

Dazai has Chuuya so Fyodor chose to instead pursue a literal God-like being - The Bookmark: Atsushi.

Atsushi's other half is Akutagawa, so Fyodor can't have him anyway.

Yin and Yang is an important motif in this whole other half business.

[akutasoda]

Hey I know i do a lot of request but I can't help it since your writing is so good.

Could you do bsd x feisty female reader who wears their cape/coat. Like they went on a date and while coming back, reader felt cold. So they offer her their cape/coat only because they want to tease her over how small she looks in their clothes. But she ended up looking so cute that they started hugging her and trying to steal kisses while she is aggressively trying to get away (although she secretly likes it). Please do Ranpo, PM!Dazai, Ada!Dazai, Chuuya, Jouno, Nikola and Fydor or any other character you want. Thank you! <3 <3 <3 Take care of yourself ♡

frostbitten kisses

synopsis - on a cold walk home after a date, they offer you their coat but they simply can't help but smother you in affection

includes - ranpo, dazai, chuuya, fyodor, nikolai, jouno

warnings - fem!reader(no pronouns mentioned), fluff, teasing, slight crack, wc - 2k

a/n: this was so adorable! take care of yourself aswell <3

ranpo edogawa ★↷

dates with ranpo were interesting to say the least. most of the time, home dates were the favourite as ranpo could be quite lazy when returning from a day at the office. however you knew that if you asked ranpo wouldn't turn you down for any ideas you had for a date.

and so when you told him briefly you wanted to go somewhere sometime for a date, he wasted no time in planning it all out and telling you to be ready. your dates with ranpo were always going to be interesting, but it was that sort of charm he had that made it all the more enjoyable.

and even on the walk home you found yourself already missing the previous couple of hours. but your mind was quickly sidetracked by the cold night air that crawled under your attire and made you shiver. noticing your discomfort, ranpo immediately shrugged off his cape like coat and wrapped it around you, he didn't really carre about the cold.

but he still didn't hesitate to tease you about you not being prepared, however he couldn't keep his eyes off how cute you looked all bundled up in his cape like coat. and so his words died down and he tried to smother you in affection, but you simply avoided him.

this then spurred him to wrap his arms around you and tried to press kisses ylto your face but you kept squirming and turning your head. however you did enjoy the affection he always showered you in, so eventually you caved.

osamu dazai ★↷

to absolutely nobody's surprise, when dazai got himself into a true relationship he would act more upon his lovestruck feelings - and that included traditional dates like the romantic he truly was. in addition, dates with him were actually very frequent and always memorable.

but he would be up to any kind of date, whatever you named he'd gladly try his hardest to achieve it for you. but if he wanted to surprise you with a date it'd most often be either at a bar or a traditional fancy restaurant. and tonight it was the latter.

he had been waiting for you the minute you finished work. escorting you home and patiently waiting for you to get ready no matter how long you would take before escorting you arm in arm to his chosen location. just as always, the date had gone by too fast and you sere already anticipating the next one - even if you were just walking home.

but you both underestimated the time you both would begin walking home and so the night air had become especially chilly. but you were determined to not let it ruin your perfect night out even if you couldn't stop shivering.

dazai noticed how this became the case and with a wide smirk he took his coat off and wrapped it around you. he started feigning how he had become your 'knight in shining armour' but before he could start teasing you more he took a moment to take in your form.

seeing you huddled in his coat made his heart swell and instead of teasing you he became draping his arms over you and pressing kisses to your face. you immediately shoved him off and tried escaping his grasp but you were both aware you enjoyed his affection. and so he continued and you let him.

~ 15!dazai

and if you were lucky enough to know him before, he'd be no different.

he'd either of taken you to lupin or some arcade but the result was still the same. after taking in your shivering form, he'd take his coat that hung loosely on his shoulders and wraped it around your form. but now he was slightly more discreet and teased you longer before wrapping his arm around your waist and leaning his head against your shoulder.

chuuya nakahara ★↷

dates with chuuya were always elaborate. he was yet again another traditionalist - arguably the most. he believed heavily that the dates he would take you on would work toward showing how much he adored you and so no expensives would worry him. and while he did prefer those more traditional dates, who was he to say no when you wanted something different?

and so when you planned a date and swung by his office to inform him, he could only smile with a love struck expression. at the end of any date all that really mattered was that you both had a good time, and you always did. normally chuuya would drive you to your dates but because you had chosen somewhere not too far from his residence, he didn't mind the walk.

except the weather wasn't really in your favour and the cold started nipping at you through your attire. chuuya noticed immediately and without thinking he placed his coat over your shoulders to allow you to warm up. he wanted to tease you, to comment or your lack of preparation but all words died in his throat at the sight of you huddling into his coat.

so instead he settled for instead trying to give you a kiss. but your feistyness could rival his own, so you avoided him and only smiled back. he would always know that you loved his affection and so he tried again and again until you finally allowed his to press many kisses to your face.

fyodor dostoevsky ★↷

dates with him were rare but they were more rememberable. the reason was that he was very busy and disliked going out unless he really had to, but when it came down to you he'd be more willing to take you out for the night.

unsurprisingly he was also traditionalist at heart, if he planned the date he'd take you to a fancy restaurant. more surprisingly was the fact that he'd normally spring them on you a day in advance. randomly seeking you out during the day to inform you of his plans to take you out the next night. however he would be open to going to places you'd like to go for a date.

but this time he had yet again sprung another date on you with no prompting on your end. the evening had gone just as charmingly as it always did and noe it was time for the two of you to head back. but it seemed you hadn't picked an outfit that withstood the cold night air and unconsciously wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to conserve warmth.

fyodor had noticed immediately and in a rare case he swiftly took his coat off and wrapped it around you (it would've been his cape but you insisted he wore something else for your date). he had half a mind to make a snark comment about how you should come nore prepared but the words died in his throught and one look at you gave him the uncharacteristic urge to hug you.

oh the things you do to him. never in his life would he have thought that someone would render him to a lovesick fool, yet here you were. he subtly shifted closer to you as you two walked side-by-side and you didn't fail to notice his arm sneaking round your waist.

you swatted him off and looked at him while he just said something about you now having his coat to keep you warm instead and he was cold now. you only smirked at him and told him he gave it to you. it took s few more attempts of him trying to sneak closer before you gave in and pressed yourself into his side.

nikolai gogol ★↷

dates with nikolai could be 50/50. sometimes he was simply too busy or he just preffered to stay at home with you for night, other times he wanted nothing more than to sweep you up in his arms and take you on a date.

and when he did it was always a new experience. never once had he given you the same date twice, you often wondered how long it would take for him to run out of ideas. the only time the date was the same was if you suggested a date or asked for the same one.

but today nikolai had found a bar that he now wanted to take you to for your date and while the date had gone by enjoyably, it was time for the walk home. now, you were fully aware of nikolai's ability and how walking home wasn't really necessary, you both agreed that walking home was more enjoyable as it was a form of stretching out the date for as long as possible.

even if the night air granted you with an uncomfortable chill. nikolai noticed your slight shivers and continued talking about whatever subject he had brought up as he whisked off his cloak and wrapped it around you.

he had originally done this to then tease you about, comment on how unprepared you were and how you're lucky he loves you so to brave the freezing night air for you. but he truly couldn't resist the sight of you bundled up in his cloak and instead opted to stop dead in his tracks and start peppering your face in kisses.

you tried your best to shrug him off, quickening your pace as you attempted to get away from his constant affection. but you still loved it and so you allowed him to catch up to you and do it again.

saigiku jouno ★↷

dates with jouno were also quite rare. and if you ever complained he'd remind you that you knew and understood the effect his role as a hunting would have on your relationship. but he would always make sure that if he did take you out, he'd do it properly.

he would always prefer a date in the comfort of either his or your residence. it was much easier on his enhanced senses and it didn't prove to difficult after a long day at work but if you insisted on going out he would also oblige - especially if it was an anniversary or some celebration.

and this was exactly what this was. it was yet another anniversary of your time with your lover and thsi time he'd surprised you and informed you of his plans to take you out to a proper restaurant. he wouldn't admit it, but he always did enjoy these dates with you - no matter how much he grumbled about certain things around him.

luckily the restaurant wasn't too far from his residence, it was walking distance and since your practically lived at his place you both walked back there together. but you both had underestimated how cold the weather would turn by the time you both walked back. and your shivering didn't go unnoticed by jouno who also was getting pretty effected.

but even if he was feezing he still didn't hesitate to take his coat of and hand it to you. you gladly took it and wrapped it around yourself but almost immediately he was regretting it as he got impossibly colder. and his solution came in the form of him wrapping his arm around you instead of the simple hand holding you previously did. this way he could seek out your warmth but you more than happily shoved him off and complained about how comd his hands were and how he handed you his coat.

his lips pressed into a thin line before he tried again, he was met with the same fate. eventually you caved as you did enjoy his affection even if you played this little song and dance.

[mystwrites]

Tickletober Day 3: Prank

Fandom: BSD

Lee: Dazai

Ler: Atsushi

A/N: I only did 2 fics for Tickletober cuz I’m placing my studies first. Everything is queued for the respective day. I hope you enjoy my 2 short fics!

“Dazai san! I have a magic trick to show you!!” Atsushi exclaimed, gathering all of the Agency members into the main office. “Come and stand in front of me!”

“Come on, Dazai san!” Kenji urged, jumping up and down.

“Yeah! It’s a good one!” Junichiro added, sending Kyouka a wink as she stifled a laugh.

Curious, Dazai obeyed and stood by Atsushi, allowing the younger to position him how he wanted to. He then saw a broom in Atsushi’s hand, even more curious as to what exactly the magic trick entailed.

Kunikida was mildly interested only because Atsushi said he was going to torment Dazai for a bit. If Atsushi was going to torment Dazai, there was no way Kunikida could not watch. He sort of enjoyed watching Dazai get humbled by Atsushi whenever the kid decided that he had enough shenanigans for one day.

Junichiro, Kenji, Ranpo, Kyouka and Naomi all had their phones out and laughed softly amongst each other while Yosano just stood by her office, possibly hoping Dazai being the idiot he was somehow injures himself in the process of the magic trick.

“What do you want me to do, Atsushi kun?” Dazai asked, letting Atsushi raise his arms slightly.

“Put your arms out to the side. I’m going to slide this broom into your sleeves!” Atsushi said, swiftly sliding the broom into the sleeves of Dazai’s coat. “Wait…shoot! It’s stuck! Someone help!”

Seeing that the broom was stuck, Kyouka and Kenji rushed over to assist. Kenji pushed the broom stick up and Kyouka assisted Atsushi by pulling on the end that finally poked out from Dazai’s left side.

When the broom poked out of the opposite end, Atsushi had to silently laugh and turned away from Dazai to face Kenji and Kyouka, the two also laughing silently. Dazai had no idea what was about to hit him.

“All set.” Kyouka said, winking at Atsushi who winked right back.

“Okay, the broom is in my sleeves. Now what?” Dazai asked. “Do I flap like a bird?”

“No! You’re gonna break the broom, you idiot!” Kunikida scolded, giving Dazai a glare as the man smirked. “Listen to Atsushi.”

“A-And now you gotta say the magic words.” Atsushi stammered, trying to hide his laugh.

“What are the words?” Dazai wondered. “It must be silly if you’re trying not to giggle. Hey! Tanizaki kun! Kyouka chan! Don’t record this!”

Kyouka and Junichiro laughed and ignored Dazai. If he filmed them getting pranked or bothered, why should they stop?

Atsushi giggled and shook his head. “Th-the words are broom, broom abracadabra. Say that and watch as magic appears before your eyes, Dazai san!”

Chuckling as he watched Atsushi act extravagant by doing some jazz hands, Dazai shook his head and ultimately decided to indulge in this silliness. It was rare for the weretiger to engage in such silly antics. Might as well take the opportunity to be silly with him, right?

“Broom, broom abracadabra.” Dazai said, knowing no actual magic would happen.

Upon hearing the words, Atsushi shoved his hands under Dazai’s now exposed armpits, gently scribbling his fingers lightly against the clothed skin, laughing just as hard and loud as Dazai who instantly screeched and collapsed onto the floor. With the brunette down, the office erupted into fits of hard laughter much to Atsushi’s happiness. He made their dull, boring office day lively and exciting!

“Way to go, Atsushi kun!” Yosano exclaimed, giving him a thumbs up.

“You caught Dazai off guard again!” Ranpo added, laughing as Dazai hiccuped. “I thought you couldn’t pull another feat like that but I guess I was wrong! Haha!”

“Way to go, kid!” Kunikida praised, more than amused at the sight. “Don’t let up until he agrees to do all of his work for the day. He’s been slacking off too much as of lately.”

“Yes sir!” Atsushi said, giving the blonde a salute before continuing to tickle his mentor. “Tickle, tickle, tickle!~”

“A-Ahahaha!! Atsu-Atsushi ku-UUHUHUHUHUN!!!” Dazai cried, laughing as Atsushi continued tickling him. “ATSUSHI KUN AHAHHAHAA!! NO!! THIHIS ISN’T A MAHAHAGIC TRICK!!”

“You’re right.” Atsushi laughed, sitting behind Dazai and tickling his armpits relentlessly. “This was a prank I saw on social media. Ahhahaa!! You fell for it too!”

“BUHUHULLYING!! YOHOHOU’RE BUHUHULLYING MEHEHEHEE!” Dazai wailed, laughing as Atsushi dug in a little harder.

“Maybe, but you’re the one who “bullies” me, Dazai san.” Atsushi argued, now really tickling Dazai. “I’m getting my revenge for all the times you tickled me…and this is also for Kunikida san who wants you to finish all your work without asking me to do it.”

Dazai whined and continued to laugh, now leaning on Atsushi’s legs. His feet began to kick out and the others all laughed at his expense, neither joining in nor helping him. Atsushi then started to jump around between tickling around Dazai’s ribs before shoving his hands back into the man’s armpits, Dazai a whole mess of wheezes, snorts and loud, hysterical belly laughter.

“Well, it certainly looks like Dazai will be doing all of his papers soon.” Yosano whispered, giggling as Dazai admitted defeat, using his foot to stomp the floor three times.

“Yep. And he better do a damn good job too.” Ranpo added, sucking on his lollipop. “The president says he’s behind by nearly half a year’s worth of reports not including the ones he forced Atsushi kun to do.”

“I…aaahaha! I’ll g-get to wohohork!” Dazai wheezed, sighing with relief as Atsushi removed the broom stick from his sleeves.

“Oh? And when are you going to start?” Kunikida asked.

“L-later toni-AAAHA!! NONONO!” Dazai cried, Atsushi’s fingers gently scribbling along his ribs. “NOW! IHIHI’LL DO THEHEHE PAPERWORK NOHOHOW!!!”

“Good! And don’t ask me for help.” Atsushi added, giggling and running away before Dazai could get his revenge.

Just then, Fukuzawa walked into the room, looking at Dazai who curled up on the floor. He looked at Kyouka who handed him her phone and watched the video of their antics from earlier. Looking up, Atsushi was at his desk, being a good employee while Dazai remained on the floor.

“I can finally die now!” the brunette cried with glee.

A simultaneous groan escaped from everyone in the office and Fukuzawa handed Kyouka her phone back, silently walking out like he didn’t just witness chaos in his own workplace along with hearing Dazai’s suicidal antics.

[strom-in-the-sky]

My baby my baby....

·˚✎ ﹏"I'm sorry... I'm such a shity older brother....just please don't leave me.....not like this..."

Port mafia times. Dazai has a younger sibling. Being the traumatized 15 years he is. He pushed away the only one person who was close to him. A stupid wish for you to die like the death he craved so much. But what if that one wish he didn't actually want came true. Those words that he said of wished he could take back. The wish he never wished to say, the one wish he wished that was replaced with all his other wishes. The only person that believed in him when he treated them so...so wong.

Tw. Mention of suicide, death, kinda descriptive mention of a body, violent behavior, manipulation, toxic family relationship, yandere-like behavior. Angst. Spoilers to dark ark. !!platonic relationship!! {Y/N} is 10. Dazai being dazai.

It was after a fight you two had. Hearing the front door close with a soft click. It was after his loud mouth to say something to scare you. God, he was so used to seeing the fear in other eyes. But seeing how you cried and ran out of the house. Made something inside in heart snap. No. He didn't consider himself human. He moved towards the bed, sitting on it, not caring if he got the sheets dirty. He was a fucking sinner anyways. What more to bring into the roof over the two heads. He didn't deserve to be called your sibling. You should just Die. Those thoughts filled his head overwhelming him again. His long black trench coat long discarded in the shared room. Since Mori decided to toss the two siblings into a small ass apartment. It had the needed things to live. It was better than the shipping container if anything. God he fucking hates him. He hates everyone to be honest. Other than Oda, Ango, and well maybe you. He tossed you away, yelled, and took his frustration out on poor you. He would never raise his hand but the words he said he could never take back. His younger sibling always comes back. He didn't blame you if you hated him. He wouldn't even be mad if you stab him in the night. Killed him. He was already restless in the night. Hearing your soft breathing as you sleep next to him. It was better right? You would be living a better life right? Maybe the two of you can commit suicide together and live the next life away from this hell. But he was smart and knew you wouldn't want that. He sighed as he moved to get up from the bed. Grumbling as he raised a hand to massage his head that hurt. Grabbing his coat and tossing it on his shoulder. He should let you cool down first before even trying to remotely talk to you. He knew it was easy to get you on his side. You listened to him better than the men he had the power of. As the sun set as the moon began to rise a bit peaking out from the tall buildings. It's been a couple hours. Where the hell could you go so long now. Never any stars just tall lanky buildings in this city. Yokomizo was a pretty big city after all. Pulling out his black flip-phone. He started to text your phone. Matching phones...he had a pure black one and you well a pure white one. He held no reaction when he shoved the present to you. Yeah he may be an ass be he not that much of an asshole....? Thought the way your eyes light up. When the box was opened. Made something tic in him was it his heart or mind...? It wouldn't hurt to spoil you some more.

Yea, where are you. 7:01

Unread.

Get your ass home or you're grounded for a week. 7:36

Unread

Are you even listing to me right now to pick up the fucking phone? Do you don't know how to type or something? 8:25

Unread

Pick up the fucking phone {y/n}. 8:41

Unread

I'm not playing around, pick up, or come home. Right now {y/n} 9:20

Unread

His eyes twitched a bit as the calls went unanswered as well as his text. The text reflected in one eye since the other was bandaged up. He scoffed and shoved his phone into his pocket. Moving to go out of the apartment harshly closing the door behind him. The apartment was clean since you cleaned it alot. Both your clothing and stuff. A silent thank you should of say every day coming home to something so peaceful and clean. You were only 10. He was 15 and didn't know how to do half of that stuff. Maybe he needs to take your tv time away so you can stop learning to back-talk him. He was always in a bitter mood or drunk when he came home. He shoved his hands in his pocket. It was no surprise Dazai knew where you went after a fight. The park he always took you. To see you smile with all the other younger children as he stayed in the shade. He wasn't a figure to see out in the public in the light. Always the dark or shadows. Thought this fight was more different than the other. Some share words then you both get ready for bed and sleep. No, this fight was like his last straw. Mori decided to fuck with him and send him on a mission. A dangerous one. He used your name in vain. Mori did know his weakness. It was you. You. Oh, how he does anything to punch his lights out. Once more he did and didn't get along well with you. Small memories of the easy life he had with the small form in his arms. So helpless and adorable in his arms. He missed those days. Just to let losses and be the kid he needed to be. To be that child with you. He was stressed and tired. Being also paired with the new ginger in the mafia. He was going to secretly spoil you with gifts when he got home. Seeing how you looked at a plushie from a window when he went out with you on the weekends. He failed to see a rival male from an alley away waiting for the two of you. Taking photos before leaving. It wasn't any surprise had many enemies. But he was always smarter than them. Why didn't he see it then?

It all started when. You asked to join him tomorrow to go to the Mafia headquarters. The place he banned you from going since it was so dangerous there. There are too many prying eyes. He fell for it, and now he doesn't even know he can leave. He wouldn't let the same thing happen to you. He doesn't even like to talk about the work he does with you. Sometimes, coming home dirty or covered in the blood from the missions. Yes, he was easygoing at times, but he let that façade drop at home. The stupid small apartment you both called some sort of home.

"The fuck do you know about my work!? Hm? your only 10 {y/n} so shut the hell-" He was quite tired and wasn't willing to hear anything at the moment just wanting to go to bed. The shared bed the two of you shared. He never dared to cuddle or even touch you. Both have separate blankets on the bed. Always back to back. On the bed.

"Osamu! please- I promise to be quiet -" you beg to join. He didn't blame you. No one wanted to be locked up in an apartment all day and only let out on the weekend. There is nothing to do other than watching TV or the suicide books on the shelf.

"No is a no {y/n}. I'm not speaking again. So shut the fuck up." He stated as he crossed his arms. He was bigger than your form. Well, that was quite clear to know being the older one after all. He sent a glare your way as he didn't expect you to storm off. It wouldn't be the first fight or the last.

He arrived at the park he always took you to. He didn't need to hide this time behind the big trees. The night was out, and well, the demons come out to play. He scans the playground part he always used to find you at before he will "drag" your ass home. A moment he remembered you were upset you couldn't go to school and came here. Sitting in the swing. Like always, he sat next to you on the swing in silence. Tonight wasn't like that night. He smelled like blood. Something he was used to. Seeing people. Shot, stabbing, and pulling each other apart were all normal to him. Till he saw a sigh that made his breath stop. He started to shake a bit as he slowly moved forward. It wasn't you, right? That white phone that was broken next to the body slumped on the ground covered in blood. It wasn't the same, right?? RIGHT? He slowly made his way over, not believing the sight he was seeing. It's not you right, not you, not you. It was you. A slumped body on the concrete ground bruised and bloody bleeding from who knows where. His baby sibling. That did nothing wrong. To need this. He needed this. For all he did - It was till the point the color red was around part of your body. He fell to his knees with his rapid breath. His one eye wasn't deceiving him. The worst nightmare came true. The nightmare he never wants to be true. A wish he didn't want but said it because he was a peace of shit. He moved his shaking hand towards the body. Lifting it close to his chest. He didn't care if the blood got on him he was used to it. But the blood icky him because it was your blood. He didn't cry or scream. Just shook he felt how small your breaths were. How quiet and weak it was. How fucking dare you do this to him. How dare someone touch his sibling. He quickly moved the body in his arms to a bridal style holding the form in his arms before he began to run. Run to the place he told you not to go run to the man he keep you so far away from. Fucking sick pervert. He knew the nurses were out for the night. The night nurses didn't do shit. Per experience. He ran to the man he called a boss knowing he was the last hope for your survival.

"Don't you dare fucking die on me. Or your never hearing the end of this."

He wasn't sure if that was just to reassure himself or make an unspoken promise to you to keep you safe. To keep you. To keep you as his baby sibling. Pure from this world.

He just prayed he wasn't too late to save his baby.

Hehehe cliffhanger.

Proofread - yup yup

If you like to check out the bot here, you go! <3

Might start advertising my bots in stories lol. I really need to do more better things in my life.

Please do give comments this is my second time writing.

And please request too!! I'm open for thoughts and bots to make.