#Osamu Dazai BSD

[heartless-curr]

never forget how atsushi nakajima met osamu dazai with the intention of robbing him, bitched about dazai not being grateful towards him,

and once again bitched at him for not buying him lunch when it was revealed that dazai lost his wallet

and immediately told dazai to kill himself the next day

atsushi nakajima is the biggest bitch ever and this is made clear within 2 seconds of meeting him, and i love him dearly for this. some people love to act like atsushi just goes along with all of dazai's bullshit but no he bitches and moans about it at every opportunity, it's amazing.

[scr4py4rd]

workplace antics or something

[annievrse]

it's nice to have a friend

dazai x reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: a slow morning with dazai turns into being late for work. but do you really care? w/c: 0.9k c/w: dazai puts his head under ur shirt but its not sexual, established relationship, ur shorter than dazai, kunikida slander!! (all jokes <3)

"get out of there," you slur, your brain still waking up. the sun warms your face, and you mentally scold dazai for not closing the blinds last night after you fell asleep.

without opening your eyes, you know where dazai lays his head—it's his favourite place. the head-shaped lump under your shirt moves, and you rub your eyes in preparation to open them against the morning light.

dazai presses kisses against your sternum, leaving goosebumps in his wake. "...no," the sound is muffled, but you hear it perfectly. "comfy."

"osamu," you laugh, vision bleary with sleep when you look down at your chest. tufts of brown hair stick out of the neckline of your shirt and tickle your collarbones. dazai has his arms wrapped around your hips, and his legs tangle with yours under the sheets. "we have to go to work."

his hair brushes against your skin when he shakes his head. his hands lay flat on your back and his fingers dance along your spine. you twist your body in an attempt to get away from his ticklish fingers, but dazai holds you tight.

your whines and giggles soothe his aching chest and messy mind. holding you this close is one thing, but being the reason you laugh so freely makes dazai's supposed rotten heart mellow.

"c'mon," you urge, rubbing his bare back. dazai groans. "i'll bandage you up."

your boyfriend slips his head from under your shirt with red cheeks and a bird's nest for hair. then he leans forward to hover over you, his hair falling into his eyes, and you push it back to reveal his forehead.

"i love you," dazai whispers, leaning into your hand on his cheek. you push up on your elbow and kiss him, swallowing the sounds that escape his mouth.

"i will love you if we get to work on time," you fold your lips between your teeth, gauging his reaction. dazai slaps his hand over his chest and falls to the side, his body bouncing off the mattress softly.

"you're terrible. absolutely despicable. i can't believe you've finessed your way into my bed."

rolling your eyes, you turn onto your side to face him. "'samu."

"hm?"

"this is my bed."

dazai lifts his head from the tangle of blankets. "your bed? we both paid for it with the hard-earned cash we get from being better at our jobs than kunikida."

"get up," you scoff, hiding your smile as you swing your legs over the side of the bed. "and don't slander our coworker so early in the morning."

dazai shrugs and lays back down. a bird sitting on the balcony chirps loudly like your personal alarm telling you to hurry up.

brushing your teeth, you make a mental checklist of your work for the day. paperwork, a trip to the police station to obtain a list of suspects for the case you're working on, more paperwork, and—

hands slide around your waist. dazai presses his cheek against the top of your head and you jump from his sudden appearance.

"why are we awake?"

"work."

"ugh."

after rinsing your mouth and washing your face with a man attached to your back, you turn around to face him. dazai's eyes are closed, his hair flopping lazily over his forehead. you feel a twinge of sadness for your boyfriend and sigh. reaching to his side of the sink for the bandage roll, you stretch it out before his eyes.

your hands move deftly, wrapping the white gauze around his torso with accustomed skill. you peck his chest every once in a while, and work efficiently, almost completely covering his body in under two minutes.

"thank you," dazai says, his voice low. he squeezes your hips in gratitude before allowing you to wrap them too. dazai brings your hand to his lips after linking them together, his eyes on you. you look to the floor bashfully.

"if we're late, it's your fault! let's go! move!" dazai declares, running out of the bathroom. the sudden change in his demeanour does little to shock you, but the switch in blame does.

you laugh and shake your head, hurrying to follow him to the closet. bumping into each other, pulling clothes off hangers and snatching shoes from the shelf, you share kisses between you buttoning up his shirt and him tying your tie—you've always been hopeless at it.

you spend a little longer in the bathroom, and dazai goes to the kitchen to shove snacks into your bag. with your hair finally wrangled and brushing out dazai's hair when he's not paying attention, you're ready for work with 30 seconds to spare.

"new record?"

you nod while fixing your earrings and grab the keys from the dish beside the door. "we totally deserve a prize."

dazai pauses in the doorway, his finger on his cupid's bow. "breakfast before we turn up? surely they don't expect us to be on time."

you check your phone for the time and contemplate your schedule again. wow, are you turning into kunikida?

nodding quickly to forget the thought, you grasp his hand and pull him out the door, the lock automatically flicking closed.

"pancakes, here we come!"

[kentopedia]

dating port mafia boss dazai

contents: f!reader, implied violence, mostly dazai spoiling you so much, dazai is very soft in this, one litte nsfw scene !!

note: this reeks of self indulgence :,) my current obsession is pmboss!dazai being so sweet & gentle to his s/o

it goes without saying that if you're in the port mafia when you start dating dazai, he’ll probably want you to take less work in the field.

bc his main goal is keeping you safe, and he constantly worries about you when you're going on dangerous missions !!

though, sometimes you miss being in all the action. so, dazai will send you on missions with chuuya or akutagawa from time to time

he still worries, but he has no doubt they can keep you safe!!

he hates being nervous about whether or not you’ll come back to him, but he never wants you to feel like you're a prisoner in your own home.

if you want to go with him, anywhere or anytime, to any meeting, you just have to ask!

bc he trusts you completely <3 and he also knows you can take care of yourself.

if you want to work in other parts of the mafia, whether that be in training, intelligence, or behind the scenes work, dazai doesn’t care

he pretends to be uncompromising on some issues, but you can convince him of anything with a pretty smile.

but, if you're not in the port mafia, he (unfortunately) will make sure you have a bodyguard with you almost everywhere.

you insist its not necessary, but he knows he's made a lot of enemies that would love to use him against you. :(

though dazai has his moments of insanity (lol), he doesn't want to drive you away from him.

if you say its too much, he'll figure out something else. another way to keep you safe.

eventually, you come live with him, so that takes care of that.

dazai spoils you senseless !!

if he's ever late for a mission, he always comes back with something for you.

sometimes its flowers, sometimes its something even more elaborate

loves loves loves giving you jewelry

but everything he buys is very thoughtful!

he doesn't buy you expensive gifts just to flaunt money

its more that there isn't a price tag on things to him. if he sees something he thinks you'll like, it'll be yours, no matter the cost <3

"i'm home!" you said cheerfully, dropping your bag off by the door as you shouted to dazai through the penthouse.

the sound echoed back, and dazai didn't respond.

with a yawn, you headed towards your bedroom, stretching your muscles as you walked. the weather had been miserable that week, and between the heat and the rain, you were feeling more tired than ever.

what you longed for was a nice hot shower and a night in dazai's arms.

"osamu?" you said again, but the apartment remained quiet. there was no one in your bedroom when you opened the door.

you sighed, disappointed that he wasn't home to lay with you as you took a nap. though, your attention was quickly diverted by the newest addition to your bed.

a soft brown teddy bear, the same color as dazai's eyes, held a card, and a dark velvet box, paired with a bouquet of fresh flowers on your nightstand.

the note was short, but it was enough, and you couldn't help but smile as you read it.

i have to go out of the city for tonight. i'll be back in the morning. sorry i can't be with you, my darling. here's a little apology gift. i love you. - osamu

as usual, the gift was anything but small.

you flipped open the delicate box to reveal a gold necklace, a deep ruby dangling from the chain in the shape of a heart.

for a moment, you did nothing more than stare at the glittering gem that was edged by smaller diamonds, and you swelled with more love than your chest could handle.

carefully, you set the box down, wondering what you ever did to deserve something so beautiful. as much as you wanted to wear it immediately, you'd wait until osamu was back so he could help you put it on.

instead, you placed the card and the necklace by the flowers, and climbed into bed with the stuffed animal. as you nestled deeper into the comforter, curling your arms around the bear, you realized dazai had sprayed it with his cologne before he left.

dazai isn't the best about telling you how he feels. he is so much better at showing it.

if it isn't obvious, he loves buying you gifts! he has so much money as the port mafia boss, and he has no idea what to do with it. why not spend it on you!!

if you see an outfit in the store window that you like, dazai will have it tailored to your precise measurements. (which he has memorized, of course).

he loves shopping for you.

when he buys you pretty dresses, lingerie, and so on, all the other women in the store are swooning over him.

he knows exactly what you like and don't.

even if he thinks you'd look so beautiful in something, he knows your sense of style.

dazai doesn't want you to ever feel obligated to wear something just bc he picked it out for you.

of course, dazai always gives you his card to go shopping

and to get your nails done! he's obsessed with how pretty your hands look after getting a fresh set <3

he's loves them whatever color/design you think looks best. but i'd be lying if i said he wasn't obsessed with red nails.

dazai really loves the way they looked wrapped around his-

you rested your head on dazai's shoulder, letting your hands gently splay across his knee, your fingertips moving in a listless, delicate pattern.

though a film played before you, it was forgotten quickly, dazai's breath catching as he exhaled a laugh. "what are you doing?" he asked, and you smiled innocently, drifting your hand further up his thigh.

"nothing."

he blinked at you with wide brown eyes and swallowed, his throat bobbing as you reached his hip. you wrapped a delicate finger around his zipper, pulling it down slowly.

"nothing, hm?" he countered.

you turned to face him, sweeter now, as you tugged at his waistband. though dazai feigned disinterest for a moment, you felt him twitch beneath the thin layer of clothing.

his focus drifted down to your much softer hand, perfectly manicured and smaller than his own. he seemed fascinated, for a moment, by the way your fingers were moving. "your nails look pretty, love."

"i know.” you grinned. dazai's hips shifted, and you lowered his waistband, pressing a line of kisses up his neck slowly, teasing him.

you freed his cock, aching and hard, from his pants, and wrapped your hand around him. dazai let out a small gasp, though he watched as you lazily stroked him, the action perfected from experience.

"you're so pretty, 'samu." you watched his face turn red as he tried hard not to fall apart under your touch.

it was reassuring, really, to know that the most powerful man in the city was wrapped around your finger.

"not as pretty as you, baby," he said, but the word came out strained, raspy as you tightened your fist, running your teeth across the taut vein in his neck.

you laughed and moved onto his lap, kicking the remote off the couch before straddling him. his eyes melted into hearts as he stared up at you, begging for a kiss.

"you’ve been so busy this week,” you frowned. “i wanna make you feel good."

dazai jerked into you, breathing stifled as you brush your thumb over the tip. "you always do." his smile was affectionate, but his touch was desperate, digging into your sides. he was already searching for some sort of release.

"so impatient," you said, but you indulged him with a kiss anyway, his hands fisting in your hair as your tongue met his.

he breathed into you mouth, hot and heavy. "fuck," dazai hissed, lifting your hips to slip off your pajama shorts. "it's hard not to be when you're so fucking perfect, sweetheart. i need to be inside you."

dazai loves loves loves taking you out to expensive restaurants <3

he's not a big fan of crowds, though, so he'll rent out the entire place instead, just to get a private room for the two of you.

and if you don't feel like going out, but you want a nice meal, he'll hire a chef for the evening. one that specializes in whatever type of food you want

dazai's not the best cook, but he’ll do often, just because it makes you happy

he gets so much better over time, though.

whatever you want, he'll make it for you! and if he can't, he'll definitely find someone who can.

but! back to dazai letting you use his account to buy anything.

when you go to any shop associated with the mafia, everything is on the house

bc if the boss is going to funnel money into their pockets, the least they could do is give his girl some gifts !!

"is this... going to be all for you today, miss?" the cashier said, looking at the stack of clothing skeptically. he rang up price tag after price tag, watching as the numbers grew exponentially on the screen.

you nodded, smiling politely as he read off the total, a number that no average person would be able to spend reasonably in one go.

but dazai said you could get whatever you wanted for your birthday, and you hadn't let yourself indulge in a shopping spree for a while. so you'd picked up anything that suited you nicely and decided not to worry.

"how will you be paying today?"

you handed over the card, and the cashier read the name, glancing up at you with skeptical eyes.

"dazai osamu?"

you smiled sweetly. "it's my boyfriend's card."

though, the name had caught the attention of an older salesman across the room, and he was to the cashier in two swift steps, knocking him on the back of the head.

"dumbass," the older man swiped the card from the cashier before he could swipe the payment. "don't you know who she is?"

it took the man three more times of reading dazai's name across the plastic for it to click.

"i'm so sorry," he said, wide eyes suddenly anxious. "i had no idea you were—"

"it's okay. don't worry." you smiled, shrugging. "i won't tell him."

you meant it as a joke, but that only seemed to make the younger cashier more nervous.

"we'll take care of everything for you." the elderly salesman said, holding out the card to return it. "it's on us."

"really?" you pinched your eyebrows together, concerned. the bill was steep. it seemed unfair to let them take such a hit to profits. "at least let me pay for some of it.”

"no, don't worry about it. the boss said it was your birthday, so whatever you want, its yours."

for a moment, you weren't sure what to say. though, realizing that this store was just one of the many in yokohama that partnerned with dazai, you finally succumbed to a smile, and accepted their kindness.

you took dazai's card back and slipped it into your purse. "thank you so much.” you said sincerely, turning to leave with a small wave as you gathered up the bags and bags of clothes. "it was nice to meet you. i'll come back soon!"

though they said nothing, they both stared back at you with wide eyes, as most people did when they found out you were the one that had captured dazai's heart.

when dazai finds out how much you love to read, he clears out an entire floor of the port mafia headquarters to make you a library

its done far too elaborately, with classical decorations, a very intricate chandelier, and a view that looks over the entire city

there are special editions, original copies of your favorite books, books in languages you can't even read and so on

he went a little overboard, but he was just so excited to show you :(

"osamu." you stare, blinking at the vast room, not really sure what to say other than his name.

"what?" he's pouting instantly, wondering if he made a mistake, and you didn't like to read as much as he thought. "do you not like it?"

you don't think your heart has ever felt so full before, and you manage a shaky smile, wondering how it didn't split your face in two. "this is too much. you did all this for me?"

and he seems surprised you would even ask such a silly question, because why wouldn't he give you something you've always wanted? "if it makes you feel better, i'll tell you i did it for myself."

you laugh, and then you're launching yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. you nearly cry, because even though he spoils you far too much, this is the most thoughtful gift you've ever received.

"thank you." you whisper, kissing him all over his face, and he smiles, his cheeks warm from your affection.

dazai leads you to a shelf after that, pointing out a few novels that have his name scribbled in the front cover, all with varying states of penmanship.

he's collected all his favorite books there for you, hopeful you'll read them first.

dazai places you next to him in every mafia meeting

if you're going to be his partner, you're also going to be his equal <3

and he knows that you can keep everyone in the mafia in line. he trusts you to be in charge when he's not there

bc everyone in the mafia likes you more than dazai anyway! (except maybe akutagawa)

and yes, dazai is the sweetest to you <3 but certainly not to everyone else

he disposes of people that bother you... far too quickly

the man at the store made you uncomfortable? he doesn't live in the city anymore. someone was too handsy? they'll lose a few fingers.

but if someone in the mafia says even one unkind word to you, you'll never see them again.

"sweetheart, what's wrong?"

you sniffed, wiping the tears from your eyes as his hands snuck around your waist. he pulled you closer towards him, sliding next to you on the bed.

"it's nothing." you swallowed, but your eyes were still glassy no matter how hard you tried to stop crying. "i shouldn't get so worked up about things people say."

"hey," he coaxed your hands away from your face, tilting your chin up. "if it's upsetting you, it's a big deal to me, my love."

you said nothing for a moment, but dazai remained patient, smiling softly at you as he stroked your cheek.

never able to resist the gentleness that he showered only you in, you sighed. "some people just said…” you trailed off, almost not wanting to tell him. it seemed embarrassing, in some way, to say something lewd about yourself, even if you were merely repeating the words.

“said what?”

you chewed the inside of your lip before sighing, knowing dazai wouldn’t let the issue rest until you told him.

“they just said that you only kept me around to fuck me.” you dropped your gaze to your hands for a moment, letting them rest limply in your lap. “that i was just some stupid bitch you’d leave behind soon.”

you watched the smile slowly fall from his lips, his eyes hardening with a fury that wasn't directed at you.

"you know that's not true." he held your hands tightly, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. "tell me that you know that."

you managed something of a smile. "i know. i really do know how much you love me. doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt my feelings.”

he nodded, somewhat satisfied as the cloudiness began to clear from your face. "who was it? if you don't know they're name, just describe them." his expression was icy, dangerous, even if his hands were soft.

"osamu, i told you it doesn't matter—" you frowned, looking away before he interrupted.

“it does fucking matter." his words came out sharp. "those men work for me, and i'm not going to let them treat you like that. they've got no business being here if they can't respect you."

at the end of the day, dazai's reputation remains very much intact. he will always be feared in the city, despite exposing himself as a man who's so so in love

but everyone in the mafia is secretly pleased to see him a little happier, even if its just around you.

[edogawautism]

i feel ill

[chocsra]

✧ you stir away from dazai's embrace when…

he pulls away softly, exhaling gently as he gazed over your disturbed face and overly relaxed body. burying your face into the junction of his bandaged neck further.

"[y/n].." the brunette feigned a chuckle and stroked your velvety locks to capture your undivided attention, "[y/n]." dazai whispered, the slightest smile appearing on his usually cryptic features. but you further concluded through a hazy gaze, that his smile, usually concealed with a layer of deceit, was ever so genuine. "hmm?" you smiled back, a subdued groan pulling from your chest as you stretch your limbs, arms quickly encircling back to hugging his slim waist. "i wanna show you something.." he murmurs, lips placed on the top of your head with a pout. raising a brow at your boyfriend's proposal, you lift your gaze to his umber eyes.

"my bandages." dazai fiddles with his fingers almost awkwardly, grazing over the rougher texture of the bandages; a rather different approach compared to his skin. "what about them?" you question, reckoning to leave his turbulent concerns and just bury yourself back into his chest. the young detective huffs out a frustrated sigh; almost childishly, annoyed that you were completely fine with his bandaged limbs and didn't get what he wanted.

"off. i think i wanna take them off." —a phenomenon you would've never thought dazai osamu would ever allow to, especially suggest. you slowly nod, your fingers grazing over his knuckles, "you sure?" dazai liked the texture of bandages, it hid his skin, what laid underneath, and the texture was just.. comforting. a proud pleasure of his the detective never tried to hide; the shielding feeling of bandages. the brunette seemed nervous, almost terrified that he was going to let this go right now. dazai figured that if you were going to be with him, you should be with all of him. "mhm, i.. i wanna feel you forreal."

and so, carefully, he unwrapped the bandages off his fingers, then his arms, then his neck. and soon, the brunette sheepishly bared all of him to you—his version of all of him, at least.

dazai.. no, osamu, took this time to run his bare fingers through your silken hair. lips parting ever so softly as a pink blush tinted his cheeks, unfamiliar to this stricken feeling of just you. the detective giggles softly at your lovestruck smile, admiring such a rare and beautiful sight. osamu reached beneath your shirt, hands ghosting over your waist delicately, pulling you in closer for his fingers to stop and caress your lower back. you happily conceal your face into his bare neck again, intaking the soft scent of alcohol and fresh laundry. when your lips are pressed against his neck, dazai stirs and giggles faintly, moving his arms into encircling your shoulders, pulling you close to just card his fingers through your hair. intake your delightful and familiar scent, and giggle at each other's intimate vulnerability.

during a night such as this, being completely vulnerable to each other was rare, but you'd continue to bask in it for many nights, evenings, and days to come.

w/c: 524

✧ chocsra™

[retroaria]

Domestic Life w/ Osamu Dazai ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

summary: life with agency!dazai, days off, date nights, the whole shabang!

warnings: slightly suggestive at some points (not sure if MDNI is necessary but keep it in mind) NOT SAD AND MISERABLE CANON DAZAI!!! Pretend he is happy and joyous for this, why would he want to die when he has you? Not proofread!!

BSD M.LIST | enjoy 🐈 - aria

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

The days where Dazai can fully devote himself to you are unfortunately far and few. On top of that, he’s a rather forgetful man. He saves all his reports for the last minute, needing to finish them up while everyone else is already gone (or spend just as much time begging Atsushi to do them for him). He makes plans, promises, deals, all of which take up his time aside from the usual agency agenda.

You know that Dazai loves what he does, so you put up with it. At the very least he still comes home almost every night, flops himself down on the bed and wraps his arms tight around you. And he’ll still be there in the morning. flashing you a warm smile as you wake up to see him adjusting the collar of his suit, throwing his jacket over his shoulder before planting a soft kiss to your lips and heading out the door. The purely intimate moments you get to experience together always happen in the dead of night or at the crack of dawn.

Aside from that, as well as all the work related events Dazai brings you to, his days off don’t come often. Whenever the stars align and those days do happen to fall upon you, you know immediately as you wake up in the morning. He’s still wrapped around you, arms and legs, almost in a death grip. He would’ve left for work by now if he had too, not that he hasn’t slept in late before, but his suit is still sprawled on the floor of your room. He hadn’t taken the time to wash it or hang it back up because he wouldn’t be needing it the next day.

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

These days begin with an absolute power struggle in the bedroom (not the fun kind). This man will not wake up and will not let you out of bed. He will whine and groan and sometimes even shed tears at the fact that you would ever want to leave him when he finally can spend a morning with you. “Dazai we still have stuff to do today, you can just hold me captive.”

“Do you hate me Bella, is that it? Has our love truly dwindled? I finally have the chance to engulf you in my affection and you want no part of it.” He’ll give you a full Shakespearean style monologue about how cruel it is that you would deny his neediness.

“Oh my god Osamu, you are so dramatic”

Eventually you do escape his grasp and leave the bedroom to start the day, to which he must follow suit. These days are spent with Dazai following you around like a lost puppy.

He follows you to the bathroom, you guys get ready together, he sits on the toilet while you shower, talking to you through the curtain about all the recent agency drama, casually mentioning all the times he’s almost died in the last week alone. (He’s also sneaking peaks of you, slyly pulling the curtain back when you won’t notice)

On days where the two of you get to go out you always let him pick your outfit. Dazai’s list of skills typically pertain to crime and manipulation, but style and fashion is somewhere in there too. He’s usually wearing simple jeans and a crew neck, but he wants you to look like a runway model next to him. “Gosh you look beautiful, gonna make me look like the luckiest guy in the world standing next to you!” he gushes in a sing-song tone.

The first order of business is breakfast, a task which Dazai wants desperately to help you with, but always fails miserably. You opt to let him make coffee for you two, which he adorns with an ungodly amount of sugar and creamer. you’ve been drinking Dazais coffee for so long you’ve grown to like it. It’s like a sweet treat with breakfast, nothing you could complain about. If he gets his hands on a frying pan you’re truly doomed, so this is the one thing you let him have. He can handle the toaster too so he’ll make toast for you guys with jam on it that he spreads on in the shape of a heart with a smiley face in the middle “Dona’ look, can you tell what it is?” he says with a smirk of confidence on his face.

“Very sweet Osamu, your hearts are getting better and better” You can’t actually tell what it is but you know he does the same thing every time. You grab the toast from him and plant a kiss on his cheek, it’s like his reward.

One of Dazai’s favorite things in the world is going to the grocery store with you. It’s such a simple task, that always ends up being so much fun. He relishes in the domesticity of it. It feels almost intimate in a way, it’s something you both would have to do if you were apart, but you’re together, so you do it together for the both of you. He loves being reminded that you are a part of his life in every way.

But god is he troublesome

Dazai is the kind of person to stay at the sample stand and talk to the employee for forever. After about 10 minutes he knows their geographical lineage, their favorite flavor of ice cream, their mother’s maiden name, the name of the high school they went to, the name of their first love, but then he gets bored and moves on. Btw he ate the whole tray of samples while he was talking to them, but made sure to swipe one for you before he bounced. “Don’t think I forgot about you darling” he’d wink as he hands you the cup.

Once you guys get everything you need you head back home. Dazai is a gentleman and is obviously carrying all the heavy bags, but not without complaining. “I don’t remember us getting 3 tons of milk”

“I have the milk, that’s the bag with the 10lb rice”

“I don’t remember us getting 3 tons of rice either.”

When the two of you get home he acts like he just got back from a 12 hour shift, like he’s been fighting an enemy organization all the day, like he’s been strategizing with Ranpo for hours, like he just had to get rescued by Chuuya. He helps you put the groceries away and throws himself onto the couch.

Once he notices you’ve start cooking he returns from his corpse like state on the couch and peaks over at you. He likes watching you cook because you look so focused yet so relaxed at the same time (I’m sorry if you don’t like to cook oops) . He likes to try and read your mind whenever he watches you do things.

Eventually he’ll get up and walk over to the record player in your living room. As you’re chopping away you notice the feint sound of a jazzy tune ringing away behind you, before you can turn around to see the source there is a pair of hands on your hips, swaying you from side to side. “Osamu, I have a knife in my hand”

“That’s never stopped me from anything before in my entire life” he hums away, pushing his body up against yours as he lays his head in the crook of your neck. You guys stay like that as you continue to cook, him humming into your shoulder, planting soft kisses as you simply sway to and forth.

“This is really nice, but I’m about to start chopping onions.” You lied, you were already chopping them.

“Augh god, my eyes! Why would you ruin the moment!?”

“I have to make dinner ‘samu!”

After dinner you guys both enter a corpse like state on the couch, snuggled together, either watching a movie or a parallel play type thing, usually both of you reading your respective books. During this time Dazai can be rather clingy, wanting to literally lay on top of you or have you lay on top of him. He also needs to get your opinion on whatever is happening in the movie or this crazy new suicide method he saw in his book (it’s a novelty interest now, how could he want to die when he has you!)

As bed time approaches, Dazai gets into the shower and it’s your turn to sit in the bathroom with him and tell him about all of your own work drama. Unlike Dazai, your peaks behind the curtain aren’t very sly “hey I see you~” he’d say in a teasing tone.

When the two of you finally get into bed, a wave of sadness washes over Dazai. He is unpleasantly reminded that he has to go to work tomorrow. His little life with you would end once morning came and he’d go back to having to use 100% of his brain power to focus on anything but you. He dreaded the thought and all he can do now to eleviate the pain is pull you close beside him. He plants a million kisses on your face before pulling your lips against his into a deeper kiss that usually lasts until both of you are tired and slightly out of breath.

At this point you begin to drift off to sleep in each others arms. You awaken the next morning to Dazai flashing you a warm smile as he adjusts the collar of his suit, throwing his jacket over his shoulder before planting a soft kiss to your lips and heading out the door.

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

I FINALLY wrote something for my husband Dazai. I hope you guys enjoy and I can’t wait to keep writing I’m having so much fun here!! Stay safe guys and much love 🤍🤍🤍 -aria

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

[birb0t]

my entry for @seukorei's dtiys! congrats on 2k!! the color palette was so fun to work with :D

[mackerel22]

Chuuya: Shut up!

Dazai: Or what?

Chuuya, thinking what to say that could make Dazai shut up forever:

Chuuya: Or else I'll marry you!

Dazai: *malfunctions*

[baby-tini]

Can we PLEASE talk about fucked up foreplay? All I can think about is PM Dazai curbstomping some poor dude who betrayed the mafia (it's standard protocol after all, jaw breaking+three shots to the chest) and it's for your enjoyment, just because you asked if you could watch because you're both equally fucked up and it's like, a whole thing, he drags the torture out, humiliating the man ,spits on him, asks you to spit on him as well, makes him kiss his boot or the gun he's gonna shoot him with, just—fuuuuuuccckk

TW- Murder, Detailed Torture, Violence, Blood, Gore

YES WE ABSOLUTELY CAN!!! I NEED MORE THIRST LIKE THIS IN MY INBOX IMMEDIATELY!!! Thxs!!! (I may have went overboard...)

The both of you were at Lupin when Dazai was made aware of the situation, stepping away too take the call as you tipsily conversed with the bartender, the little giggles bubbling from your throat as you spewed whatever came to your mind. He wasn't gone for long though, only a couple minutes before you felt him leaning over your shoulder from behind, his lips inches from your ear as he told you that the both of you had too go. He was quiet as he led you out of the bar, leading you by the waist into a sleek black car, giving the man upfront directions as he closed the door. He was unbothered as you messily climbed into his lap, your head foggy from the liquor as his hands moved to your waist too help you coordinate better before you sloppily made out with him, you always found Dazai too be extraordinarily attractive, but even more so when he was pissed, plus mixing the smell of his cologne into it, it just gave you a whole new experience of a high. There wasn't much reciprocation on his end as his hands sit on your hips, he just allowed you too do as you pleased. The drive felt quicker then you originally thought, as the car stopped and Dazai reached for the door handle as Dazai told the driver, "watch her." You had tugged on his coat when he said that, crawling closer to him as you whined, pleading to him with a, "wanna watch 'samu..."

He stared for a moment before his hand reached out and grabbed your arm and pulled you out, stumbling into his chest as he shut the door behind him. It was a dark alley that he led you down into, a man bloody and bruised laid on the floor, he was covered in dirt and soot, his once white shirt now soaked through with crimson and mud as his face bled, ruby droplets leaking down his chin as they fall to the floor in a constant flow. His uncovered eye was empty as he stepped closer to the man, slow and calculated, like a predator as his men that were guarding the traitor stepped away as Dazai shooed them away, you following close behind him. Dazai stood in front of the cowered man, his whole body shaking as Dazai stared down at him, before he dragged the man to the stairs a few feet away, the man began pleading for his life, making promises he knew he'd betray in the future as he was thrown face-first into the hard concreate of the stair case, his nose busting on impact as his mouth fell open and he let out a muffled cry.

"Because you couldn't keep your fucking mouth shut, I had too be called away too come deal with you." Dazai snarled as his foot harshly came down on the back of the mans head, the sound of the mans teeth shattering made a loud cracking echo as the mans mouth instantly started too leak blood and the chipped pieces of his teeth fell out of his mouth. The man was left panting and before he could move, Dazai kicked him in his stomach, causing him too groan and roll onto his back. He gestured you over, letting his hand settle on the arch of your back as he scowled at the man. "Apologize to her, and maybe I'll think about ending you quickly." The apologies that spewed from the mans bloody mouth were instantaneous as he looked up and pleaded to you, only too have Dazais foot come down, crushing his femur in the process. It was a loud ugly wail that left that mans lips, so loud that you thought his vocal cords would bleed. The man quickly shut up when Dazai pulled out a Colt M1911A1, pointing it at the mans chest, you saw the deep fear in that manns eyes before he quickly squeezed them shut and tried too quiet his sobs. Dazai felt a pawing at his chest before he looked over at you, your pupils blown as you tugged at his belt, he hummed at you before leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss before he slipped his tongue in your mouth, only pulling away when he felt the man moving under his foot, that was still dug into the man femur.

"You're so fucked up sweetheart... getting wet from watching me break a mans jaw, hm?" Before you could even attempt too deny his claims, you felt one of his hands slip into your panties, rubbing you through them as you quietly gasped, clinging to him. He looked over at the man, his fingers now rubbing your clit as he took in the sight of the mans wide-eyed expression. His hand, that was still gripping the gun, playfully moved around, taunting the man as he waved the gun in his face. The moment he pulled his hand out of your panties, you tugged at his hand, trying too drag it back. Placing a quick slap on your ass, he walked over to the man, placing his foot on his chest. "Thank me." Dazai stated, the man immediately spewed his praise, thanking Dazai for his mercy and that he was sorry that Dazai even had too come out, his voice coming out gargled as Dazais foot pushed harder into his chest. Until, Dazai backed off, letting the man take a couple deep, much needed, breaths. The man didn't even have time too blink before the sound of three distinct gunshots echoed through the alley and he felt a burning pain before everything went black as he felt a warm red liquid pool on his chest.

[ratsupremacyisreal]

⊰✿⊰✿

▸𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝙿𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚄𝚙 𝙳𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒

✧·····················*﹡❋ ❋ ❋﹡*·····················✧

[annievrse]

who's gonna know you like me?

dazai x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic summary: when a notorious gifted, george orwell, shows up in yokohama, you and dazai are sent to detain him. c/w: idiots in love ig, she/her pronouns, torture, blood, mutilation of a limb, kidnapping, dazai calls reader bella' w/c: 3.7k a/n: maybe this was a dream i had, maybe it wasn't, but what i do know is that i had to write this asap...

"I would thank you for helping us, Dazai," Ango Sakaguchi states. "But you owe me."

The brunette next to you rolls his eyes but continues walking down the long hallway of the complex. "Anything for a dear friend."

You're sure Ango can detect the obvious sarcasm in Dazai's voice, but he doesn't say anything. You look up at your coworker. Dazai's eyes don't stray from the end of the hallway, but you know there's humour in his gaze.

Dazai's fingers brush your knuckles as the three of you turn the corner. The sudden zip of electricity up your arm makes you pull away before he notices anything.

"So," you start, shaking your thoughts of Dazai. "What's this guy's ability?"

Ango side-eyes you. "Classified."

Rolling your eyes, you bump shoulders with Dazai to prompt him to help you. "C'mon Ango. If my shadows are restraining this guy, I wanna know why."

Ango only sighs and takes his glasses off. A faint scowl twists his expression. You guess Ango's stalling when he cleans his glasses with a cloth from his pocket before sliding them back onto his nose.

"His ability is 'Big Brother'."

You nod, urging him to go on. When he doesn't, you flick your hand out. "And..."

You're not expecting the voice from your left. "Wherever he looks will suffer the demand he thinks."

Tilting your head, you think it through. Whatever he looks at will suffer the demand he thinks of... You hold back a shiver. President Fukuzawa gave no details when he sent you with Dazai.

"I don't want to know how you obtained that information, Dazai, but if you go telling unauthorised personnel—"

"Relax, Sakaguchi," Dazai laughs, though the sound is strained. "Your secret's safe with me."

An alarm sounds as the door you've stopped in front of opens. Dazai almost stumbles to a stop, running into your shoulder before rubbing the spot with his hand. Your lips twist into a smile, and you try to suppress the clear fondness you have for him in front of Ango.

"Before we enter," Ango's voice is stern, and if he notices the casual intimacy between you and Dazai, he doesn't say anything. "I need to warn you of this man. He is extremely powerful."

Dazai sighs. "Why isn't he in the prison then?"

Ango's expression doesn't change. "He broke out."

Your eyebrows fly to your hairline as you glance at Dazai, who, unlike you, doesn't give away his surprise. "You're kidding."

Ango turns toward you. "Orwell is dangerous. Be careful."

Dazai nods, not taking Ango's warning seriously—or he already knows what Orwell's capable of. The thought scares you.

"Return to base immediately after arriving at the location of the sighting, even if you don't find him. We'll need to do medical checks."

You open your mouth to ask about the checks but are interrupted when four men in combat gear appear in the doorway.

"Escort them to location 6846," Ango's monotone voice makes you glance at Dazai. He looks down at you and winks. "Report to headquarters every minute on the minute."

And then you're whisked away into the back of an armoured truck.

The bench you sit on in the rear of the truck is cold, and Dazai is close next to you; the side of his thigh warms yours, and you almost forget you're about to undergo the most challenging mission of your career.

"Agents 0345 and 0543 have reached location 6846."

The truck slows to a stop, and you inhale sharply to calm your racing heart. Warm hands enclose your shaking ones.

"Just nervous," You say offhandedly, but Dazai sees right through you.

"You'll be great," Dazai whispers, ignoring your excuse while watching the guards exit the truck. "You always are."

Your ears heat up at the subtle compliment, and you nod.

At the guard's gesture, you jump out of the truck and find yourself in front of an abandoned warehouse. The sun sets behind the building, cloaking you and the rest of the team in a murky orange.

"Boring," You mutter, eyeing the decrepit building. "I was hoping for an infiltration or a raid."

Dazai laughs darkly next to you. "It's never boring with you, bella'. Now, check the perimeter, would you?"

Suppressing a smile, you close your eyes. Sheets of darkness surround the building, making it impossible for anyone inside or out to see through.

You scrunch your nose. "I've got three heartbeats inside."

The armoured guards murmur around you, most likely commenting about your ability, maybe one updating Ango, but you block them out.

Retracting your shadows, you turn to Dazai. "Plan?"

Dazai pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue before walking straight for the warehouse; you follow.

"Top or bottom level?"

You listen to your shadows swirling around you. "Top."

Dazai nods once, squinting at the upstairs windows. He reaches behind him and flips his coat to the side. A handgun sits tucked into the waistband of his pants. He draws it, clicks the safety off and returns it to its place.

Instead of speaking, Dazai points to the open doorway to the left of the building. Upon closer inspection, you see a staircase beside the entrance and nod in understanding.

Before you leave, Dazai pulls you in by the waist, his grip firm. He presses his lips to your forehead. "Be careful."

You give him a deadpan look. "You be careful. I don't need you dying on me today."

"Never gonna happen."

Breaking off from him, you sneak inside and up the stairs, sending your shadows ahead. The heartbeats remain where they are.

The building is falling apart. The concrete stairs wobble under your feet, and dust falls from the ceiling. Without brushing it from your hair, you arrive at the top step. You're unphased by the prominent tripwire that is strung before your feet. Rolling your eyes, you step over it.

There's no sound when you peer around the corners of the numerous rooms for potential traps. A sudden intake of air has you spinning around. A man dressed in black stands in the middle of the hallway.

He draws his gun and aims for you, his trigger finger fast. The bullet aimed at your head hits the floor five feet away from you, your shadows retreating behind you.

"Wha—"

Darkness sweeps his feet from under him, and the gun goes clattering into another room.

"You're just human," You mumble, standing over him. Your mind is going a million miles an hour at the fact. The man shakes, and you kick his face to knock him out. You don't kill humans.

Turning around, you continue checking rooms. Entering the last doorway, your shoulders drop in disappointment.

"Really?" You groan, sighing. Your shadows didn't tell you about his presence—you swear they love him more than you despite dying out when he touches you.

Despite memorising his outline, finding Dazai standing there with a smirk and a hand around the wrist of who you assume is Orwell surprises you.

"How did you even get up here?" You look for potential entry points but come up empty-handed.

Dazai shrugs. "I never reveal my secrets in front of an enemy. But I'll tell you all about it later."

Orwell growls, and if it's because he just realised his ability doesn't work or something else, you don't know. But when you look at his other hand, or lack of it, you see why.

A pool of crimson sits directly under Orwell's mutilated arm, cut at the elbow. His arm drips blood steadily onto the floor, and the sight makes you nauseous.

Despite knowing Dazai's Port Mafia history and his capabilities to his core, you don't wish to figure out how or when he did this to Orwell. But the severed limb is nowhere to be seen, and there are no traces of blood on Dazai's bandages.

You clench your jaw and look away from it. Your gaze meets Dazai's, and he seems almost apologetic. Swallowing, you step further into the room.

"Don't look at her," Dazai says, his tone causing shivers down your spine. He walks in front of Orwell, fingers tight on the other man's wrist. He crouches down. "Look at me. I'm who you're after. Don't drag her into your fucked up shit."

The admission surprises you, and you circle the room to get a better look at what's going on. Orwell looks at you and giggles.

"How did you know? Hm?" Dazai mutters, head tilted. Orwell grunts, trying to rip his wrist from Dazai's hold, but it doesn't move.

"Me?" Orwell laughs bitterly. "The entire underworld knows."

Dazai curses lowly and glances at you. You're frozen in your spot, your shadows swirling around. Then he stands.

"Get up."

Orwell glares at Dazai and remains seated. his eyes are trained on you, and you wonder what Dazai was asking about. What does the entire underworld know about?

Dazai sighs, pulling his wrist. Orwell stumbles up, dripping blood wherever he goes. You send your shadows to wrap around Orwell's chest, thighs, and eyes.

"Shadow user," He mumbles, giggling. "You'd pay a special price where I'm from."

Disgust ripples through you, so you tighten your shadows until he yelps. Dazai yanks him forward and out of the room. You're close behind, avoiding the splatters of blood on the concrete floor.

Down the stairs and out into the open night, your shadows don't waver their hold on him, and neither does Dazai.

Stopping suddenly, you turn your head to the left.

There were three heartbeats.

"Stop!" You yell. Before you, everyone freezes, including Dazai, whose eyes widen.

Your name leaves his lips in an urgency you haven't heard before, and you assume he's just realised what you have.

Instead, there's a dull thwack to the back of your head, and your neck snaps forward as you fall over. Stars dot your fading vision, and there's an ache behind your eyes. The last thing you hear is Orwell's hysterical laughter and Dazai calling your name.

The moment you're conscious, you feel nauseous. "Wha—"

"Quiet."

You squeeze your eyes tighter; the light directed at your face feels brighter than the sun. You move your hands and feet to discern if you're restrained—you are. Mentally rolling your eyes, you shift in the hard metal seat you've been attached to.

Your shadows whisper about Dazai. They seem excited, which, in turn, gives you hope. Dumb, stupid hope.

"Water?" You choke out, voice scratchy against your dry throat.

"What'ya say?"

"Water. Do you have any water?"

A grumbling laugh echoes, and you're in another abandoned warehouse. Typical. Your hope wavers slightly.

When the man's footsteps come closer, you open your eyes into slits to gauge him through the light, and then you're suddenly soaked head to toe in ice-cold water. You gasp sharply and breathe heavily in shock.

"There's ya fuckin' water."

You're still hyperventilating and maybe shivering, but your eyes fly open. The brightness of the lamp hurts. "That was fucking rude."

The man disappears behind the light again. "You're a feisty one."

"Why am I here?" You decide to just go for it. Your shadows are dimmed, but you can feel one delicately swirling around your chained hands.

"You're one special lady, did you know that?" The man exclaims.

"Why don't you just kill me?" You spit, squinting. The silence that follows your question is unnerving.

Before you can ask again, the man giggles and says your name. "It's fun to play, don't you think?"

You scrunch your nose in disgust and try looking to your right. Your muscles burn as you do so, but you can see the night sky through the window in the ceiling. How does he know your name?

"You saw what I wanted you to see," He says. "Isn't that cool?"

You furrow your eyebrows and run through everything that happened earlier. Pushing Dazai's disturbed expression from your mind, you deduce a timeline.

The warehouse. Three heartbeats. Dazai. Blood.

Three heartbeats.

The realisation pours over you like the ice water, chilling you to the bone. You're breathless when the words leave your lips. "You're Orwell."

The light swings away from your eyes, and the face of the man you'd restrained with your shadows in the other warehouse appears in front of you. "Surprise!"

Dread claws at your chest. You're unsure whether you're shivering from the water still clinging to your hair or from pure, unguarded fear. If this is the real criminal you've been tasked with finding and detaining, then who's the other guy? What happened to Dazai?

The thought of him leaves you troubled.

"Who was the other guy? The one you forced your face on?"

"You're smart," The real Orwell hums. It was a human."

You curse. You don't begin to think about Dazai's torture of the man.

"And now that you're here," He continues. "Dazai will show up any second—"

How he knows you and Dazai's names doesn't scratch the surface of your questions. Amid Orwell's rambling, you feel the chains loosen around your wrists. The sound is muffled by your shadows as the metal lowers to the ground, and then you feel the chains on your ankles weaken.

"—we're gonna have so much fun! You and me." His eyes are wild when he looks at you, but you feel no coercion in your mind or body.

And then he frowns. You avoid looking at him directly, but you fear the worst when his forehead creases. He's staring at your feet, and your heart stops.

"I was gonna unchain you, but it seems you've already done it for me."

You leap from the chair and direct your shadows at his face to cover his eyes. He can't force you to do things if he can't see you.

But then you go rigid and know he's got ahold of you. You feel your body walk toward him; your movements are awkward. The voice at the back of your head is screaming for release from his claws, but there's nothing you can do except for what Orwell forces.

Your arms are thrown to the side, and your legs move in ways you don't think they ever have. He's making you dance.

"All we need is some music and an audience, and we've got a performance!"

His maniacal laughs echo in the large room, and despite your fear, disgust, and hatred, your face remains neutral.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and Orwell forces your mouth into a grin. "And she can smile! Such a pretty smile for a pretty girl."

Your shadows are nowhere to be found, you're sure they were forced back when Orwell took over your mind.

He rushes toward you, his face close to yours. His breath is acrid, and you try and tear your head away, to no avail.

"Now for questions!"

It's not your usual torture technique, but when your body crumples on the floor and pain shoots up your spine, Orwell is done with the act.

"Who sent you and Dazai to my hideout? Who ratted me out?" He growls, kneeling before you.

Your lips move before you can stop them. "The Government."

Orwell hums, standing and walking around you in a circle. Your back aches and there's an uncomfortable grasp around your lungs.

"Is it true you're involved with Dazai in a different way than just being in the agency together?"

The question throws you, and so does the way he asks it. But, like the other question, you answer before you're aware of what you're saying.

"Yes."

Orwell hums. The answer satisfies him, but you don't know why.

"Is he your boyfriend?"

The question makes you shrink with unease. "No."

"That's something Dostoyevsky got wrong," He whispers. The name raises alarm bells in your mind, but you can't speak.

"Does Dazai know what Dostoyevsky's up to?"

"No."

"Maybe you're hopeless after all."

When he's not looking at you, you can move the tips of your fingers. The longer he has his mind on something else, the more you gain feeling back into your body. His clutch on your windpipe eases, and you can finally breathe steadily. Where your hand lays on the floor, darkness stirs.

"Dostoyevsky said to remove the hopeless ones—"

Before he can finish, there's an explosion outside the warehouse. It's only a split second, but your shadows whisper about the explosion when Orwell's focus on you completely detaches.

Dazai, Dazai, Dazai...

The edges of your vision become blurry, and you go to swat away the growing darkness before Orwell can see you falling back—but he's the one who's forcing you to pass out.

Dazai feels his knees weaken when he sees you on the floor. Anger rises within him, and when he spots Orwell's hunched body in the corner, he makes a beeline for him.

"What the fuck did you do to her?"

Orwell turns from where he's loading a rifle. His fingers tinker with the bullets, but they keep slipping from his grip. Dazai's smile is feral, and he tilts his head like a predator observing its prey.

"I thought I asked you a question," He sings. "And I don't want to ask it again."

Dazai knows Orwell is trying to control him, but the commands are hopeless. Orwell then turns his attention to you, who still lies unconscious in the middle of the room. A sick grin breaks across his face, and then he's making your body writhe on the floor.

Dazai grabs his wrist, twisting it with a strength he'd never used since he left the Port Mafia—that Dazai is dead, or he was. He can never seem to control his emotions around you.

Trying a different approach, Dazai states the obvious. "You tricked us."

Orwell's expression lights up, and he laughs, forgetting about his broken wrist, and, by extension, you. "I did! Wasn't it great?"

Dazai raises an eyebrow and digs in his back pocket for his folding knife with his other hand. "It was. But I like what I'm gonna do to you more."

When Orwell was hired by Fyodor Dostoyevsky to take out Osamu Dazai, he was aware of the man's ability but not his dark specialities. For what he did to you, Orwell will never see it coming.

And as Dazai goes to work on the man, carving and gauging, he only thinks of avenging you. Blood paints his beige coat, and he thinks it a shame that something this dirty has to ruin your favourite jacket of his.

The screams of the gifted make his blood sing, and he knows, somewhere deep in his dark and twisted heart, that you'd do the same for him.

Your limbs tingle as you wake. A sound close to a whimper escapes you, and you realise you're no longer on the concrete but in someone's lap.

You open your eyes slightly. A familiar jaw and brown hair come into focus. His hands are secure around your waist and under your head.

"Hey," Dazai mutters your name, it sounds nice coming from his lips. "I've got you, you're safe."

It takes you a moment to realise this isn't a dream—only because of the smell of rot violating your senses.

"You're okay." You're sure Dazai's saying it more to himself than you. "He didn't do anything to you, did he?"

You've never seen such concern in Dazai's eyes before. You shake your head, blinking away the bleariness.

You think of what happened earlier, and the memory makes you cringe and laugh awkwardly. "He made me dance."

Dazai makes a noise at the back of his throat. He doesn't seem to think it's funny. He moves his hand from your waist to your face.

"Where's the other guy?" You ask, liking the feel of his skin on yours.

"I killed him." His bluntness causes you to come to your senses faster.

"Why?"

"I didn't like how he looked at you," Dazai's brown eyes meet yours. "And I thought he was the real one when you disappeared. Thought it was all his fault."

Sighing, you reach your palm to his cheek. His skin is softer than the last time you touched his face, or maybe you're still hazy, but the feeling is comforting. You swear his cheeks turn pink when you smile at him, but you forget it when the sound of footsteps is racing toward you.

"Dazai," A familiar voice calls, and you can't place it until your name follows soon after.

Ango is breathless when he stops before you. "Are you okay?"

Dazai nods, and you smile. "All good, Ango."

Ango rubs his forehead. "Good, good..."

You grab Dazai's hand, and he immediately squeezes your fingers.

"Orwell has been detained, he's being transported to Meursault now."

"But he escaped," You state, brain still a little fuzzy.

"He did," Ango says. "But we've taken... extra measures this time."

You don't miss how Ango glances at Dazai; you can guess what he did to Orwell.

You groan. "You did not."

Dazai stares at you with a softness only reserved for you. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it, bella'."

So you don't.

"Make sure you're at headquarters in half an hour," Ango mumbles.

Dazai says nothing and watches him return to the truck. You call his name softly.

"I was scared," You whisper.

Dazai sighs. "So was I."

You sit up, swallowing your shock at his blunt honesty, and take his face in your hands. "Thank you."

Dazai shakes his head. "Don't thank me. I'd put myself through anything to save you, you know that."

"He asked me about you," You blurt, watching closely for his reaction.

Dazai goes stiff. "Who?"

"Orwell."

Dazai swears. "About what?"

"Dostoyevsky."

"Shit," He helps you stand. Once on your feet, Dazai wraps an arm around your shoulder. You lean into him.

"That's bad, isn't it?"

Dazai doesn't answer your question. "It means they're aware you mean something to me."

The statement brings warmth to your chest, but then you remember what the fake Orwell said to Dazai.

The entire underworld knows.

"Oh, guess I'm famous," You comment plainly. You tried to make it a joke, but there's little to joke about when your life's in danger.

Dazai laughs bitterly, fingers dancing on your shoulder. "Just means I gotta keep an eye on you at all times."

"You wanna stay over tonight, don't you?" When you get outside, the horizon beams with morning light. "Or, this morning..."

Dazai presses his lips to your hair. "You know me so well, bella'."

[pissmoth]

chapter 109 <3

[edogawautism]

the way chuuya isnt helping dazai pull out fyodor's corpse at all reminds me of this

[heartless-curr]

[note: dazai's bandages cover the wrong eye on purpose]

hi chat i normally never draw ship art, but the mental image of this piece wouldn't leave my mind so i HAD to draw it i love them sm. inspired by stormbringer (i haven't finished it yet but it's so good...), that One dead apple art, and this 1 project sekai card of shizuku hinomori lol.

fun game where you try to guess all the symbolism here or smth /silly

[kentopedia]

hi~! can i rq a scenario with dazai where his s/o finds out he abused akutagawa in the port mafia and gets super pisssd at him because they themselves were abused? thank u!

color me blue

FEATURING. osamu dazai x gn!reader — wc: 3.1k

SUMMARY: mori reveals dazai's true nature as a mentor to akutagawa.

CONTENTS: references to past abuse, arguments, pm!reader, ada!dazai, angst, typical dazai warnings lol, comfort at the end

notes: thank you for the request !! i hope this is okay <3

It’d begun like any other morning. Already exhausted, you woke with an overwhelming list of things to do, tasks that needed to be completed by the evening.

It was a typical routine for you, these days. As a high-ranking member of the Mafia, you never got a break. Not from your job, nor the menial chores you needed to suffer through in your personal life. The laundry, it seemed, wouldn’t do itself, no matter how much your boss paid you for all the illegal actions you’d committed.

And though it was wearisome, everything had been fine. The sun began to set, and you realized that for the rest of the day, you would be free.

That was, until your routine check-in with Mori somehow led to a disclosure of what had been years’ worth of private information.

He’d greeted you as normal, sat you down before his desk with his oily smile, and had you review everything you’d accomplished that week. Though you believed you would be free to go within half an hour, when you stood to leave, Mori released an oh, by the way, and reiterated the unanticipated torment that Dazai had put Akutagawa through.

For the entirety of his story, you sat without so much as a twitch of the muscle, but you couldn’t comprehend why Mori was telling you now. It had been nearly four years since Dazai left the Mafia, and though the Boss had been aware of your relationship as teenagers, he’d never given you any sign that he knew it’d continued after Dazai defected.

You’d both been careful, secretive. You never did anything to draw any suspicion or be labeled as a traitor, and the two of you were successful.

At least, you thought you’d been successful.

Mori had never once mentioned it, had never so much as batted an eye when you spoke about Dazai from time to time. Though, now, his grin was much too conniving, the words made of steel as he drew them out, directing them in a sharp point towards your chest.

He had no intentions of going after Dazai, that much was clear. Nor did he seem intent on killing you for your misdeeds. Already, he’d spun a vile web, knowing exactly how to use you as his best asset. With you still under his command, he had some sort of advantage over Dazai and the Agency.

Perhaps, his comments were just a test of your loyalty. If Mori laid that one tiny seed of doubt in your mind, would it be enough to fracture the bond between you and Dazai that had been unsevered for years?

You wanted to convince yourself, fervently, that the answer was no. You’d been by Dazai’s side for this long and nothing he’d done had turned you away. Yet, you were unprepared for the anger that had risen in you, burning so hot and ravenous that you were unable to think of anything else.

It was all that was on your mind as you returned to the apartment, a barren space that had been used for nothing besides meetups with Dazai since the two of you purchased it. Each wall was entrenched with years of as much sin as there was love. Items that belonged to both of you were scattered across the surfaces, but there was never anything too important.

At the end of the day, neither of you could stay there long.

You paced the apartment, thinking through everything that Mori had said, over and over again. An ache of sorrow fought against your warranted rage, and you stood by the door waiting for Dazai to enter.

As angry as you were with him, as horrified as you wanted to be, there were still years and years of comfort and gentleness that placed a cooling balm over your burning wounds.

Still, a part of you had always been envious that Dazai had managed to escape into something good, and you’d become the enemy to his organization. Now, it seemed, you were the only thing holding him back.

In some other universe, surely, there was a life better for the both of you than this.

Despite your affection, you inhaled, fortifying yourself for a regrettable conversation. You channeled your resentment into logic, rephrasing sentences in your mind until they were perfect, forming an argument that couldn’t be so easily shut down by Dazai’s soothing words.

The door clicked, unlocked by the only other person that held a key to the salacious space. He was humming to himself, an upbeat song that had been stuck on the radio charts for weeks.

Something about that simple action startled you, set you off kilter, and you crossed your arms, protecting yourself. You came here with a purpose, and you refused to diminish the weight of the conversation. A puff of steam left you on a heavy exhale.

Dazai threw the key on the counter and smiled, his eyes softening the moment they caught a glimpse of you. “You got here faster than I thought.” His tone was cheerful, and he seemed relaxed, without the foreboding cloud of misery pushing down on him. It was so unusual that you, almost, regretted bringing up what you’d learned from Mori at all.

Though, it wasn’t something you could just ignore. You straightened, making sure not to deflate under his undeniable warmth.

For a moment, Dazai didn’t realize that anything was wrong. He hung his coat up, stretched his limbs, and talked without facing you. “It’s been too long since we’ve seen one another. I thought about you all day,” he said, drawing out the syllables with a short laugh. “You’re always such a distraction. How will I ever get my work done?”

Dazai seemed so happy, and in all your years together, you’d never thought that would be a word used to describe him. It pained you to ruin that, even as your nails dug into your palm, trying to reconcile the two versions of Dazai that you knew.

You looked away. If you wanted to say what you needed to, you couldn’t bear to see the way his soft expression turned into one of animosity.

For a few more moments, he rambled on to himself, before realizing that you hadn’t said a word at all. You felt frozen in the middle of the room, your mouth dry as you tried to think of the best way to segue into the conversation.

“Hey.” Dazai had grown quiet, and he stopped mulling around the apartment, finally focusing all his attention on you. “What’s wrong, pretty?” There was a pout on his lips, his expression already falling from the bright, joyful one he’d worn when he’d entered. “I still haven’t gotten a kiss.”

You were weak for a moment, questioning if your anger was even worth it. A minute passed of your own silence before you resolved yourself, ending your hesitance. What you’d heard had upset you tremendously; you couldn’t just brush past it like it was nothing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Dazai’s face screwed up, eyebrows pinched, as he tried to remember what he could’ve possibly done to upset you that week. Though you often bickered about ridiculous things, it was rare that either of you lashed out in anger at the other.

Your expression was enough to let him know that this was one of those times. He hesitated. “I’m… not sure what you mean, love. Did I do something wrong?”

At that, you laughed, amused that he could play so innocent. He’d changed while in the Detective Agency, that much was certain, but you knew every bit of his soul and he certainly hadn’t been purified of his sins. “Mori told me about Akutagawa today. I doubted how much of it was true until I thought about it, really thought about it, and it makes sense.”

Dazai stared blankly back at you, his eyes searching your face for any more context. They flicked back and forth, round brown irises full of an uncertainty you weren’t sure was genuine. He was a master of manipulation, and you refused to ever be a pawn in his schemes, no matter how small. “I haven’t seen Akutagawa in weeks. Whatever’s happened to him—”

You stood straighter, keeping your hands tight at your sides. “I’m not talking about now, Osamu. I’m talking about years ago; back when you were training him.”

A moment passed; he didn’t blink. Nothing in his eyes betrayed him. “Would you care to provide me with some context?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” You scowled, clenching your teeth so hard that it hurt. “How could you do that to him? All those years, you and Oda kept it a secret from me. You hurt him. You were so cruel.” Your nails dug deep into your palm. “I told you everything that happened to me before I came to the Mafia. Every way that I was hurt, and you told me you understood. You promised me, and you turned around and did the same thing to him.”

Dazai held his body loosely, surprised by your sudden outburst of emotion. It seemed he was unsure what to do with the confession you’d just handed over. Dazai licked his lips, wetting the dry skin, and searched deep into your soul for the best way to soothe you.

But the betrayal, the hurt, was buried deep within you, and the anger wouldn’t fade so easily.

“I never kept secrets from you,” he said, instead of answering any questions. His tone was cool, unaffected, like you hadn’t just raised your voice as your countenance changed into one of distress. “You just never bothered to ask.”

Silence. You swallowed, hard, each notch of your spine stiffening. “That’s not fair. How was I supposed to know his training was any different from mine? Should my first suspicion have been that you were mistreating him?”

Dazai grew grim, the first twinge of emotion you’d seen since you’d spoken. He rubbed his temple. “You’ve got a right to be angry, but I never hid anything from you on purpose.” He reached out for you, his touch soft as he rubbed your bicep. “I just don’t know what you want me to do about it now, sweetheart. Why are you bringing this up?”

You didn’t want to tell him about Mori, not yet. That was a conversation for another time, and he wouldn’t hesitate to claim that bit of information was the more pressing matter.  

Instead, you inched out of his hold, gazing back at him with contempt. “You can’t be serious, Osamu.” His audacity shouldn’t have been surprising, but it shocked you, nonetheless. “That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say?” Dazai held his hands out like you would hand him over a script, a typed apology just for him to repeat back at you. “Never once did you show any concern for Akutagawa’s wellbeing when he joined the Mafia. Suddenly, you care, and I’m not sure why.”

“That’s not true!” you said, your cheeks hot with frustration. “We we’re friends—”

Dazai laughed, though it was mocking, without any true humor. “You expressed an interest in him that wasn’t ever reciprocated.”

You scrubbed your face, drained from his rebuttals, and put enough space between the two of you so that Dazai couldn’t touch you.

“Fine. Maybe we weren’t friends, but I wantedto be because I knew he understood. I thought we could get to know each other well. Then one day, he wouldn’t even speak to me anymore. He looked at me like I knew so much more than he did.” A finger was in Dazai’s face, scolding. “You fucked it all up. We’re just a year apart, Osamu. I didn’t want him to treat me like that just because I was dating his mentor.”

There was a break of silence. Dazai sniffed, recovering some sense of power in the conversation. “I’m sorry.” he said, but it was merely to appease you, no sincerity in the words. “Perhaps my methods of training were inappropriate and unethical, but it’s the Mafia, my love. What did you expect?”

Frustrated tears welled up in your eyes. “And if it had been me? If I had been under your command, would you have done the very same?”

At that, Dazai softened, his lips curling down. The light in his eyes flickered and faded, any happiness in his face muted. “It would never have been you. You know I could never bring myself to hurt you.”

You buried your face in your hands, his sweet comment doing little to soothe you. “He was just a kid—”

“I was too.” Dazai held your wrists gently, prying them away. He was frowning, dark eyebrows pinched together as he looked at you with both concern and betrayal. “You’re going to blame this all on me, when I was a child too, doing what I thought was right?”

“No. But you’re an adult now, and you still treat him the same way.” You shoved him away, putting space between you, never before having felt so cold in Dazai’s embrace. “He’s nothing more than a chess piece to you. That’s something I can’t accept.”

“Is that the case?” Dazai turned hard; suddenly he’d lost the upper hand. “You’ve got a lot of opinions on what’s right. Yet, remind me who’s the one still in the Mafia?” 

It was meant to hurt you, a low blow that stung and went straight to your chest. You hadn’t wanted to stay in the Mafia, but he’d never given you the choice. Dazai had left you with nothing more than a note and a promise, and you were too stupidly fond of him to ever let him go completely.

“It’s so hard to love you sometimes, Osamu,” you said, quietly, trying to keep your emotions at bay. “Your new friends at the agency get to be ignorant about the man you used to be, but I know just how cruel he was. I see him every time I look at you.”

Dazai stared back at you stunned and hurt. He flexed his fingers, but for once, he didn’t reach out for you.

You couldn’t bear to look at him anymore.

The bathroom door slammed behind you, and you stood in front of the mirror, watching splotchy patches form on your skin from unreleased emotions. The sink ran, a steady stream with no end, to tune out your deep, calming breaths until you no longer felt that immense amount of anger.

You knew what you were getting yourself into by falling in love with a man like Dazai. You’d known it from the beginning. He was no different than all the people that had hurt you, the reason why you’d come to the Mafia in the first place.

Yet, he was so much more loving with you, gentle and patient, and you knew that under every layer of bad intent and regretful crimes, Dazai was a good person.

With a sigh, you turned off the sink and crept back into the room, feeling remorseful and miserable. The knowledge of what he’d done to Akutagawa was something you couldn’t forgive him for. It was horrible and traumatizing, but so were so many other things that he’d done.

You couldn’t place double standards on him for his previous actions. If you had loved him despite all of those things, you weren’t going to be able to stop now.

“Osamu?” you said in a quieter voice, creeping out of the bathroom silently, slinking within the shadows.

He was spread over the length of the couch, his head resting on the arm of it as he stared up at the ceiling. When you approached, he shifted into a seated position, waiting for you to speak.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” you began, walking slowly towards him, drawn to him easily. “You’re not a difficult man to love. I’ve never felt that way.”

Dazai smiled, though it was half-hearted, and extended a hand to you. You took it quickly and he drew you into his lap, squeezing you tight. “Well, I certainly don’t make it easy on you.”

You were silent. He kissed your forehead, running a delicate touch across your back.

“I can’t take back what I did to him.” Dazai sighed, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “The damage is done.”

“I know that.” You breathed, his calming scent wrapping around you, reminding you that no matter what, he would always be your home. “It’s not fair for me to judge you when I’m still in the Mafia. My crimes are no better than yours. Even if what you did…” you trailed off shaking your head. “No. You’re right, Osamu. It’s not fair.”

He guided your fingers to his lips, kissing each of them lightly with the beginnings of a smile. “I’ll never be a perfect man, but I’m trying to be a better one.” Though he refrained from showing vulnerabilities to most people, he was more open with you, more willing to reveal the parts of himself he despised the most. “I… hope you know that. It may not seem like I’m trying, but—"

“I know you are.” You ran a hand through his hair and swallowed, resting your cheek on top of his head. “Osamu, you’re already so different than you were when you left. You’ve changed much more than I have. It was horrible of me to diminish that.” You squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry I said that.”

A minute passed before he spoke again, his breath so steady, a reminder that he was still there, with you, despite all attempts he’d made to leave you behind. We’ve seen every ugly side to one another. It makes it far too easy to be unkind. Doesn’t mean I’d ever love you any less.”

You smiled, though it was sad, but through your hurt you were still devastatingly devoted to him. It was just easier to ignore the damage he’d caused when you weren’t staring it right in the face, a walking, breathing reminder of the person he held inside him. The very type of man that had once hurt you.

You squeezed him tighter, blocking out the cruel memories of your past. Dazai had never laid a punishing hand on you, had never spat demeaning words at you that could never be forgiven. Through it all, he had adored you, treated you with a gentleness you’d desired, and loved you without conditions.

Brushing dark hair away from his forehead, your eyes softened, the darkness in him cracking as the light began to shine through. “I know, Osamu,” you said, your cheeks pinching, warm. “Despite it all, I will always love you without regrets.”