#Self-Aware Dazai Osamu

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

How to hug your Port Mafia Boss

Self-Aware! BEAST! Dazai Osamu x GN! Reader x Self-Aware! Dazai Osamu

Description: He can't sleep at night. He ended up on your doorstep.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Short and fluffy.

You bit the end of your pencil. This word cross was hard. Technically, you were supposed to be in bed already, but, you still have half of this word cross to finish. You won't have time to finish it tomorrow, and you don't want to leave it unsolved.

"Will you finally get to bed?" grumble Osamu, glaring your word cross. He was laying on your bed. He came here earlier, wanting to cuddle tonight.

"Iris Flower, I need some cuddles!" whined Osamu, holding his hands towards you.

Before you can answer, you heard that noise again.

You heard steps, coming from outside your room. Normally, you won't bother to pay attention to the sound. There is no curfew (except for the kids), and some members of the Cast enjoyed midnight snacks or going to a nightclub.

Yet, there was one thing that bothered you.

This someone was walking from one side of the corridor to another for fifteen minutes already.

And you were sure, that it was the same person. Of course, your hearing won't be as sharp as Jouno's, but after his lesson you could tell, if the sound of steps were the same or different.

After this, someone walked outside your door again. Your curiosity took the best of you. You put word cross to the side, stand up from your chair and went to the door.

You opened the door.

And came face to face with Dazai. Whose left eye was cowered in bandages.

He stepped on the side, startled. He looked guilty.

"Sorry, [Y/N]. Did I wake you up?" Port Mafia Boss whispered.

You shook your head. Your words were soft.

"Don't worry, Dazamu, I wasn't sleeping."

Dazai frowned. He knew why he was called either Dazai or Dazamu (Osazai sounded too silly for him). He wasn't used to have a nickname. Dazai spoke, his voice was quiet.

"You shouldn't stay up late."

You whispered in return.

"You also should be in bed. Did something happened?" After a pause, you put your hand on his shoulder.

"You can tell me."

Dazai looked away, hiding his gaze. After a few moments, he spoke again.

"I don't want to talk about it."

He looked like, he was ready to snap, if you tried to pry further.

You weren't planning to do it. You still were building your relationship with BEAST Gang.

But something you can do now.

You stepped closer to Dazai and hugged him.

He was thin. He was tall. He was stiff.

You run your fingers through his hair and squeezed him slightly. You pressed your cheek against the side of his neck.

"If you say so. Just, remember, if you need someone to hear you out, I will be here."

Dazai didn't move. Then he slowly put his arms around your shoulders.

He was embarrassed. Yet, he didn't move away.

You stay like this for a few moments. Then you let him go.

"Good night, Dazai."

Before you could close the door, Dazai whispered.

"Can I stay?"

You turned towards your bed, wondering why Osamu was quiet. Turned out, he was finishing your word cross. He looked up from it and stared at you. Without breaking an eye contact, he wrote down the last word. Then looked at his double. And nod.

You glance at Dazai.

"You can stay. And you..."

You looked at Osamu and rolled your eyes.

"Fine, you won. Scoot over, don't hog all the place."

It took time, but you three managed to get comfy on your bed. You felt the embraces of both males from both sides of you and knew that it was the safest place in the world to be.

Osamu was hugging you from behind. Your back pressed against his chest. Osamu loves to be a big spoon.

Your cheek is pressed against Dazai's chest. You can hear the soft, rhythmic beating of his heart. You rub his back caringly up and down.

Warmth, heartbeat, breathing...

All if you drift off...

This night, Dazai Osamu, Boss of Port Mafia, had a good rest. Without dreams. But he felt safe.

And he was sure in a next day.

[kyouka-supremacy]

They both had enough cringe gay moments that give them NO RIGHT to look at Gogol like that

[ay-chuu]

DISCOVER. L, I, M, P, Say it.

!! (Self aware bsd boys)

WARNING! Obsessive behaviour in some and angst.

A/N: Sorry for any grammer mistake i made!!

Self aware!Dazai, Chuuya, Jouno, Fyodor, Ranpo, Sigma x Gn! Reader

You really was the most airheaded human, in Dazai's eyes. Because he learned everything about you in just few weeks, while you only knew him as a popular 2d... character? Dazai knew he didnt thought himself as a human but being a non human in different world with a canon fact hurted him. He's not gonna even talking about the... writer version himself in your life. He just wanted something really clearly over his life and it was YOU. You, who made him self aware by mistake. You who made him fell for someone really. You, who made him want to live for a little longer to know you...

"Cute." Chuuya thought. You were really looking cute trying to sew a plush version of him while looking at the manga's colored page to match his features. He hated it when you closed the page tho. Yes he could always try to put himself that is connected with his... other self's but manga was the easiest one since he was origannly from here. He wondered. What would you look like in here too? Would you have powers? Would you meet him? Would you be... his love interest? Well he was never gonna know the truth. The only truth that he know was he was falling- no. Already fallen in love with you.

Jouno hated how stupid and complicated this situation was. And he hated how he couldn't do anything, even a simple thing for you. He hated how pathetic this... no he was. He fallen for you, who was a REAL different version of human. Who was in another reality. He knew that you didn't even knew what you did to him. In your eyes, he was just a character that you enjoyed... reading. Ah he guessed that life was giving him a punishment because of his brutal actions for others. How brutal....

You really wondered that if your pc got a virus or something. Because everytime you try to search or write something there was a thing that made you remember fyodor. Like when you try to an essay for your study, your computer would always write "fyodor" that any word that starts with f. Or when you opened a website you would always see fyodor's manga version. But you thought you just freaked out because... what kind of virus would do that right? Wrong. You were wrong for thinking you were wrong. Fyodor, who hacked all of your system would always make you remember who loves you most. He wanted to engrave himself into your subconscious. Because one day, when he finds a way to bring you into his universe, you would not lose your way to find him...

Ranpo had always thought he was smart. Or rather, it was like that in the past... Because ever since he met you, he saw himself as the smallest-brained person in the world. No matter how hard he tries, no matter how many times he reaches different thoughts, he couldn't reach you. While you could always reach him with a single page turn or google, he barely understood that you were from another universe... At first he thought you were just one of the games of Poe's books. He wished you were. Maybe if you were, he would never have fallen in love with you so hard...

Sigma was so surprised when he was able to discover you for the first time. But more than being surprised, he felt very close to you. Because you... were like a different universe version of him. He was born from a book. For him, you were a book that born in a different universe and watching him. The day you read the story about him and smiled because you felt close to him, he realized that he was in love with you. But if there was one part that wasn't surprising at all for him, it was that he couldn't reach you. Ah, because it wasn't just people playing with him all his life. His life was the biggest user playing with him. After all, It didnt change the fact ... he was really just a written person. In any reality.

[d1shfandomz]

soukoku are equally obsessed with each other but the difference is that one of them knows it and one of them isn’t aware of it in the least

[thatghostinyourbog]

Can anyone rlly look into those eyes and think

"straight"

[spitting-flowers-since]

Currently reading "The Setting Sun" by Osamu Dazai. I was curious about his works because of his personal history and if we put together how he lived and what he wrote... Oh boy did he have BPD?

I mean there is no way of knowing now but there sure are a lot of warning signs. Substance abuse, suicidal attitude and thoughts, superiority and inferiority complex, the need to be social but also lack of understanding about other people.

Mhhh.

[h0ll0wed-b0nes]

Warning // Implied suicidal ideation

"The Cycle" | Jericho

[aurawrawr]

Reading No Longer Human and relating too damn hard

Having pretended to be someone else all my life, I now have no clue about who I really am. When did I even start to pretend? What age was I when I realized that that's the only way for me to survive? Who was I before that? Did my parents notice the change between who I was and who I became?

[snowy-butterfly]

The entire ada, pm minus chuuya, guild, doa, and the hunting dogs right after that statement

I’ll stop making this joke when it stops being true

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Two detectives in your bed

Self-Aware! Edogawa Ranpo x GN! Reader x Self-Aware! Dazai Osamu

Description: You wanted to take a nap. But, there are two detectives in your bed. And all of your blankets and pillows are gone.

Fluff. Silly short fic.

Sequel to Delayed package

Warning: OOC. English is my second language.

______

You just wanted to take a nap.

You just wanted to lay down on your bed, cover yourself with the blanket, put your head on a pillow and have a nice nap. Because you deserved this nap. You are working hard in the university. And you are helping with the house chores. You deserved to have a small rest.

The plan was simple. Go into your room - Lay down on the bed - Cover yourself with the blanket - Lay your head on a pillow - Sleep.

Pretty simple plan, right?

Well, wrong! You were wrong!

You shake your head, hoping, that you were just too tired and started seeing things. It must be a mistake and your room should be empty.

You opened your eyes and stare on your bed.

They were still there.

Dazai Osamu and Ranpo Edogawa were laying in your bed. Ranpo was lying across the bed, while Dazai was laying on his side, looking at you with a sly grin.

It's not like you were against their company. Or against anyone's company. It wasn't even the problem, that they were in your room. Or in your bed.

You knew that some of BSD Cast find your room shooting. They love spending time here. They like staying here. And you allowed them to go into your room, while you weren't there.

A few times you returned to your room, finding Lucy reading a book here, or Kunikida, taking notes in his notebook, or Tetchou taking a nap in your bed.

Of course, they have some restrictions. They weren't allowed to search through the drawers, and they must ask if they want to take something from your room to theirs, be it a textbook or a laptop. And, as long as these rules are followed, there were no problems.

So, you weren't angry, that Ranpo and Dazai got into your room when you weren't here. You were angry, that your blanket and pillow were gone.

And, if Ranpo's and Dazai's sly smirks imply something, that they were the reason, they are gone.

You frowned and looked at two 'intruders'.

"What are you two doing in my bed?"

Ranpo rolls on his side and turn his head in your detection. He smirked.

"Oh, you know, just hanging around. Waiting for you."

You rolled your eyes. There is no Purple Sigh on your door, so these two aren't in distress. And it doesn't explain the missing blanket and pillow.

"Why? And where are my blanket and pillow?"

Ranpo's smirk became bigger.

"Somewhere. I wonder where... Do you know where they are, Dazai?"

Dazai chuckled and looked at your direction. He looked as sly as Ranpo.

"Have no idea, Ranpo."

Ranpo hummed.

"Oh, I remember! Kids were building a pillow fort? I recall they were asking for a permission to took blankets and pillows."

You rub your temples. You recall, how Sakura asked your permission to take some blankets and pillows for the pillow fort. Okay, you can do this. It's not like kids took all your blankets and pillows.

You start searching through your shelves, trying to find a blanket and a pillow. You must have a few more somewhere there.

During your search, you felt Ranpo's and Dazai's gazes on you.

Ranpo yawned and looked at Dazai.

"Dazai, have you heard about what happened yesterday? You see, Fyodor and Nikolai were visiting [Y/N]'s old house, trying to retrieve something..."

You let out a nervous whine and feel, like you were burning up. Your cheeks and ears were on fire. You try to focus on anything else, not paying attention to Ranpo.

"... And when they got back home..."

Where are the blankets and pillows?

"... We didn't see [Y/N], Fyodor and Nikolai for the rest of the day and night..."

Maybe they are in this wardrobe?

"... And [Y/N] appeared only at the morning..."

Why you can't find blankets and pillows?!

"... Do you think you can explain, what happened, [Y/N]?"

You turned back and looked at two detectives on your bed. Dazai and Ranpo both looked like two cats, that ate all sour cream in the house. Your face still felt like it was on fire.

You breathe in and out.

"Where... Where are the rest..."

Ranpo grinned and finally opened his eyes.

"Kids wanted to make a huge pillow fort. They took all blankets in the house."

What? Were kids trying to make a fort that is big enough to live in? The idea of going to them and took one pillow and blanket was rejected immediately. It's still daytime, let the kids play.

But, you want to be nice and cozy while taking a nap.

Two detectives noticed your face expression. Dazai dramatically raise both of his hands up.

"Oh, My Dear Iris Flower, don't worry, you won't be cold or uncomfortable! I will be your blanket and Ranpo..."

What? A blanket?

Ranpo waves his hand.

"And I will be your pillow"

You will repeat. What? A pillow?

You blinked owlishly. Dazai open his arms, inviting you to hug him.

"Don't be shy, [Y/N]! Come here and hug me. Look, that I am soft and warm. A perfect blanket."

Ranpo lift his shirt up, showing his stomach.

"And my belly is soft. Softer, than any pillow you will ever have."

Ranpo opened his eyes slightly.

"And, both Dazai and I are much more good-looking than any... print on a pillow case you could find."

YOU DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THAT BSD CAST WERE SELF-AWARE, WHEN YOU ORDER TWO DAKIMAKURAS WITH FYODOR AND NIKOLAI ALMOST A YEAR AGO!

AND, IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT, THAT PACKAGE GOT DELAYED, AND, WHEN IT FINALLY ARRIVED, YOU NOT ONLY FORGET WHAT SHOULD BE INSIDE, BUT ASKED FYODOR AND NIKOLAI TO GET IT FROM YOUR PREVIOUS NEIGHBORS!

AND, YOU DIDN'T KNOW, THAT YOU WERE SHOP'S 5000 CLIENT AND, AS A PRESENT, YOU GET PILLOW CASES FOR DAKIMAKURAS WITH DIFFERENT BSD CHARACTERS!

You feel a chill running down your spine. Yesterday, you spent half of the day and all night, cuddling Fyodor and Nikolai. Well, to be more specific, you were wrapped into a blanket and stuck between Fyodor and Nikolai, that wanted to show you, that they are better than any pillow. And prettier. And clingier. It was the best cuddles you ever had. Almost. All their teasing were unbearable!

You don't want to know, how Ranpo and Dazai learn about the pillows and pillow cases. Either, because they are Dazai and Ranpo. Or because Fyodor and Nikolai told them. It doesn't matter right now.

...

You probably could take a nap in the living room. On the couch. With no pillows and blankets.

Or, you can give up and have a nap with Ranpo and Dazai. And, once again, cuddled for the rest of the day.

Ranpo, whose eyes were still opened, laughed.

"There are no free blankets or pillows in the house. Your nap on the couch will be cold. Besides," Ranpo had a tight grin on his face. "Is it really that bad to sleep with us?"

You massage your temples. It wasn't bad, just... They will never let you live the dakimakuras incident down, right?

Dazai give you the best puppy dog eyes he can.

"Are you tired, Dear [Y/N]?" Dazai cooed, opening his arms for a hug again. "Take a nap. You will feel better!"

You give up and plopped down on your bed, rolled to Dazai and put your head on Ranpo's stomach.

He was soft and warm. You still can't believe, that BSD Gang were real, breathing, living people.

Dazai nested on top of you, pinning your hands between his chest and yours. Dazai's face pressed against the crook of your neck.

Ranpo's fingers started running through your hair.

"Aren't we better, than any pillow or blanket you will ever have? Or any pillow case?"

You let out a tiny groan.

"I already explained it, that I forgot about the package! It took almost a year to be delivered!"

Ranpo chuckled and Dazai rub his nose against your throat.

"Dear Iris Flower, don't be embarrassed. You gift us a great opportunity to cuddle with you more!"

You rolled your eyes.

"Yea, it's not like we don't snuggle almost every day"

Ranpo and Dazai laugh a little. Dazai kissed the tip of your nose.

"Well, I still want more cuddles!"

Ranpo poked your cheek.

"So am I."

You mumble something, but close your eyes and doze off. Dazai and Ranpo were great as a blanket and pillow.

Right before falling in Dream Kingdom, you heard Ranpo's voice.

"Sleep tight, [Y/N]. Have a good dreams."

[yayll]

~ a little something about waking up next to Dazai, and he's unbearable as always ~

"I might just eat you alive..." He mumbles to himself, barely audible. His eyes are half-lidded, and he's barely blinked.

He's been watching you sleep next to him curled up like a kitten for the past hour, way past the time you usually wake up. He's the oversleeper, not you, and it makes him hyper aware of your bodily functions and if they're okay. He hasn't eaten properly in days, but you don't need to know that. He's rabid, and he knows he's being a total freak right now, but who will worry for you if not for him? He must rise up to be the voice of reason, the watchful eye that keeps you on track even if he can barely keep himself alive! He wishes you'd stay forever, where he could avoid his problems and take care of your every single need. He should be everything you need... He hopes. Then you'd never leave, and he would make sure to eat more, just for you. How perfect... selfish.

God, he just wants to crawl inside of you and make you his home, it's almost pathetic. You'd find him vile for the things he would do for you and your happiness, despite you already being so accepting of his dark past... You're simply heaven sent. He takes a deep breath, and lightly runs his knuckles down your jawline, as if carving them out of the precious material that you're made of. You begin to stir, and his pupils dilate instantly as he pulls back with anticipation.

"Mmm... Osamu..."

You murmur sleepily as your chest rises up and down ever so slowly. He's freaking out. It's bad for his health to hear the way you say his name as if it were a healing oath, a spell that only works on him.

"Wakey wakey~"

Dazai's propping himself up on one elbow, a calculating smile plastered on his lips as if he were in on something you weren't. You pop open one eye, and groan softly.

"You're up... early"

"Yes!"

"Why..." You yawn like the silly little thing you are. He gasps in mock offense, clutching his chest.

"Can't a fortunate guy like ME just be happy that we both live to see another beautiful day?!"

He winks, and boops the tip of your nose, this gets a muffled snort out of you that causes you to bury your face into the pillow. He's addicted to the rush of causing any joy in your life, it's disgusting. When you don't lift your face back up, he scrunches up his face, and reaches out to stroke a strand of your silky hair, but his intrusive thoughts win and he tugs on it as payback for possibly falling asleep again. He needs your attention, and you're sleeping? Insanity. You swat at him, blindly smacking his arm away.

Oh, how he loves that you're the only person who truly sees him past his myriad of theatrics.

"Oh my... a slap from you feels wonderful!"

He rubs his arm, and grabs the hand that swatted him, bringing it up to kiss the pulse point on your wrist. Feather like kisses, almost undetectable... until you lift your face up from the pillow, finally.

He gazes at you as he rubs his face onto your hand like a cat greeting its owner, purring as if he were starved for affection. For a moment, his gaze becomes more serious, detached, as if he were thrown back into a distant memory. He can't describe the feeling, but the way your hand feels against his cheek is a warmth he hasn't felt in ages. His eyes sting, and he blinks the wetness away before you can notice as he hears your angelic voice again. He's back to his usual self.

"Osamu... You're being annoying"

"You think I'm just annoying?~"

His voice comes out in a tender whisper, his mouth curled up into a mischievous grin. He's insufferable. He could be anything for you if you wanted it. Especially annoying! He almost drools when you roll your eyes affectionately at him, the coldness in his heart disappears as he leans in just a little, invading your personal space as always, eager to hear your reply.

"Amongst other things, yes..."

You flash him a sweet little smile, and it mends all that is wrong in the world. The pink in your cheeks is starting to turn red, and it sends him to the moon. He hums, slowly nuzzling himself into the crook of your neck, it's his turn to curl up. You run your fingers through his messy hair that tickles you, feeling the warmth of Dazai's breaths against the back of your ear.

"Hmm, do I look like a pillow to you?"

He can hear the smile in your murmur, and he pulls back from your neck briefly, peering at you through his messy bangs, those intense hazelnut eyes demanding your attention, and his voice drips with an aching devotion that oozes like honey. he moves his lips to your ear, and whispers.

".. You look like an angel to me."

He watches you self destruct at his painfully smooth delivery of a compliment, and secretly rewards himself for once again giving you another reason to never leave. He's got it all!

Romance, self deprecating humor, an inability to properly process his emotions and grief, but more importantly, an undying commitment to stay alive against all odds so that he may see another day of you in his arms... or you helping him change his bandages... or-

He's cut short by you grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him into the most sinfully delicious kiss known to man, and he could swear that despite all his efforts, this might be what ACTUALLY kills him.

[literatureloverx]

BSD MEN x their first time meeting their darlings

Characters: Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya, Nikolai Gogol, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

BSD MEN x fem!reader

Fyodor Dostoevsky

You and Fyodor met at the museum.

He noticed you from a distance, intrigued by your beauty as you stood before a painting for longer than most would.

Drawn by an irresistible curiosity, he approached you to hear your thoughts on the artwork.

To him, you resembled a beautiful doll, exquisite and delicate, with a mind that radiated compassion toward his complex moral code and a heart that was both truthful and sincere.

Your gentle smile captivated him, sparking an interest that went beyond mere admiration; it stirred something deeper within him.

The full scenario is HERE

Dazai Osamu

You met Dazai either in his Port Mafia or in his Armed Detective Agency era. I will go with the second option, because PM!Dazai is more complicated.

Dazai encountered you on the beach at dawn.

It had been another sleepless night for him, and he was wandering aimlessly, as he often did after consuming alcohol without a care for the consequences.

The cool sea breeze tousled his hair, and the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the shore provided a stark contrast to the chaos in his mind.

Thinking the fresh air would help ease his slight headache, he walked at a slow pace, allowing the serenity of the beach to wash over him.

Scenario

As he wandered, he spotted a bench facing the beautiful water, where the dawn reflected brilliantly like molten gold. Without a moment's hesitation, he settled onto the bench, feeling the rough wood beneath him as he gazed at the horizon.

The sun began to rise, casting warm hues of orange and pink across the sky, but even that beauty couldn't quite pull him from the fog of his thoughts.

He yawned, a weary reminder of yet another night spent in restless contemplation, unable to escape the burdens that always seemed to find him.

A few moments later, someone sat beside him on the other side of the bench. His eyes widened in surprise as he turned to see you, a soft smile gracing your lips, almost apologetically.

The way the morning light played with your features was mesmerising, and for a fleeting moment, Dazai forgot the weight of his troubles.

Your gentle, melodic voice cut through the sound of the waves and reached his ears, wrapping around him like a warm embrace. "I hope it's okay for me to sit here? I also came to watch the sunrise."

The sunrise cascaded across your angelic smile, illuminating your hair as if each strand were made of stardust.

Dazai felt an unfamiliar flutter in his chest, a sensation he hadn't expected. He studied you, taking in the delicate way your eyes sparkled with the early light, and the calmness that radiated from your presence.

It was as if you were a breath of fresh air amidst the heaviness that often surrounded him.

"Of course," he replied, a hint of a smile breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. "I can't say I mind the company of such a beautiful young lady, especially at a moment like this."

You smiled, but didn’t answer.

As you both sat in silence, watching the sun rise higher into the sky, Dazai's mind raced.

The tranquility of the moment was refreshing, and he felt drawn to you in a way that was both thrilling and unsettling.

He was self-aware enough to know that this was no simple attraction he was feeling; it was something deeper, something he didn't quite know how to handle.

Nakahara Chuuya

Chuuya likely knows you either from his childhood—perhaps through the sheep—or your family has loose ties to the Port Mafia, and you happen to cross paths by chance.

I prefer the second option because it excites me more and is easier to write. (I’m really excited about this and want to write a full story with various chapters, but unfortunately, I have too many requests to finish right now.)

You know those Wattpad stories where the main character's dad has ties to the mafia, deeply indebted?

One day, the handsome mafia boss appears out of nowhere, demanding the money back—or worse, the daughter of the man. Well, this is not how Chuuya operates. He is a gentleman, after all.

Due to certain circumstances, instead of Akutagawa, Chuuya—the mafia executive himself—takes on the mission to collect the debt.

The jewelry mart of the mafia is under his care, and he decides to handle the matter personally this time.

It's a rare move for him, but something about the situation tugs at his instincts.

He circles your house, a sleek black car parked discreetly down the street, as he assesses the scene with a discerning eye.

The neighborhood is quiet, almost too quiet, and he can't shake the feeling that something is off.

The thought of confronting someone who owes the mafia money doesn't faze him, but he feels a sense of responsibility creeping in.

He pushes the thought aside; his focus is on the task at hand.

Storming in with a show of force, Chuuya enters your home, flanked by eight other men meant to intimidate.

But everyone knows that Nakahara Chuuya is a one-man army.

Scenario

The tension in the air is palpable as he strides toward your father, who stands pale and trembling.

Without hesitation, he forcefully pushes your father to the pavement, making him bite the concrete.

"You've made a grave mistake," Chuuya growls, the weight of authority lacing his words.

Your father stammers, trying to explain himself, but the panic in his eyes only fuels Chuuya's anger.

As Chuuya raises his gun, ready to make an example of your father, a pleading voice interrupts him.

You, a young woman, are being held back as you desperately try to reach your father.

"Please, don't!" you cry, your voice breaking.

Your teary eyes strike right through his heart, leaving him momentarily dumbfounded. Here's someone ready to sacrifice herself for her family.

You.

In that instant, he feels something shift within him—a stirring he hasn't experienced before. He doesn't understand what is happening; he can swear he's never felt this way before, and it unnerves him.

"Who are you?" he asks, trying to mask his confusion behind a façade of coldness.

"I'm his daughter! Please let him go! Take me! Take me instead!"

Your words are infused with desperation and bravery, resonating deep within him.

Everything else—the chaos, the noise—fades into silence. He is entirely focused on you, captivated by your beauty and your courage.

Chuuya can't help but admire your spirit. You're not begging for mercy out of fear; you're standing tall in the face of danger, ready to take your father's place. It strikes him as both foolish and incredibly brave. The dichotomy fascinates him.

As he lowers his gun, the gravity of the situation begins to weigh on him. He looks at your father, then back to you, and realizes he doesn't want to be the monster in this story. Not before your eyes, at least. Not now.

"Enough," he says, his voice steady but softer than before.

He knows he doesn’t need to be doing this. He can take the debt in more than one way. He has many options, but he chose this one because it was the quickest. However…things changed.

Without a second thought, he lowers his weapon and releases your father, taking a step back. The shock in your father's eyes mirrors the confusion swirling in Chuuya's mind, but he knows he's made the right choice.

As you rush to your father's side, Chuuya feels an unfamiliar warmth spreading through him. You’re so…mesmerising.

The way you move, the way you talk, the way you cry…he could stand there and watch you for hours, maybe even days. In fact, he felt like he could watch you for all eternity.

He tries to shake this weird feeling off.

"Consider this your lucky day," he adds, turning on his heel, his heart pounding in his chest. "But next time, you won't be so fortunate."

Nikolai Gogol

He either encountered you during a mission, where you were merely an unusual target that intrigued him, or he met you before he joined the Decay of the Angels.

For the narrative, I would lean towards the idea that "he met you on a mission where you were an odd prey."

For Nikolai to become interested in someone (be it romantically or platonically), he would need to sense a connection between the intricacies of his mind and your understanding of this complex moral system.

You were likely an unassuming office worker, perhaps even a part-timer, blissfully unaware of the corruption that plagued your workplace and why it could become a target for a terror attack.

How naive of you.

When he sees your innocent, almost silly face, he would smile, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he prepares to do something whimsical.

Scenario

Nikolai approached you, flashing his trademark grin—one that held a hint of danger mixed with playful charm.

"QUIZ TIIIME!!! Guess what I'm about to do to youuuu, little dove?!—“

He moves forward, his nose almost touching your cheek. His theatrical chuckle echoes through the halls left behind.

The floors are covered with blood and shards of glass, and you’re the only one remaining alive—together with this madman.

“—Yes indeedy! I'll make you feel free like a true bird! Free from everything! I’ll free you from the cage of your emotions, so that you can live as a credit to our race, a truly free homo sapiens!!"

His voice danced with mischief as he leaned against the doorframe, tugging slightly at the ropes bound around your wrists.

"P-please..." you stammered, the tremor in your voice betraying your anxiety. He ignores your quiet plea.

"Do you happen to like birds, little dove?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. Your startled expression was delightful to him.

You nod, and he follows up with, "Why is that?"

You have no idea what this strange clown wants from you. The only thing you want now is to flee—to run away, to go home, to survive. You’re not sure how you’re going to reach that goal, but you’re willing to do anything.

That’s why you start making up excuses to occupy him with your chatter for as long as possible. You’re hoping to get rescued… or at least to receive his mercy.

"Some birds are free in that sense, while others are made to remain in their cages…"

Nikolai leaned closer, intrigued by your perspective, his whole presence threatening every fibre of your being.

"So you believe that some birds are meant to be clipped, little dove?"

"N-no," you replied, trying to steady your voice despite the flutter of panic in your chest. "They are meant to be free. But even if the bird is free to go wherever it wishes, freedom is nothing but an illusion.—“

You were scared, and you didn’t know if what you were doing was the right thing to do in this situation. Your voice trembled.

“—Because even if the bird is freed from its cage, it won’t be truly free to go wherever it wishes. The laws of nature still apply—it can’t abandon its flock.”

Your heart raced, and you felt exposed, as if you were revealing too much of your own fear. His unnerving heterochromic eyes scare you, you're trying to make something up, to avoid his gaze.

"—A bird that has never known freedom won't long for it; it is simply content with its cage and the comfortable life it provides—“

You aren’t sure if this is working, but he isn’t hurting you, and he’s certainly listening. You gasp as he tugs at the ropes again, speaking in his usual whimsical manner.

“Can you think of any reason why a bird born in a cage would crave freedom? A reason for the bird to detest its own—“

He giggles.

“…’comfortable’ cage?”

“I…I don’t see a reason for that to happen…unless that comfort turns into terror—"

His façade seems to crumble for a moment. Your voice wavers, the weight of his gaze amplifying your anxiety.

"—unless the bird has been abused in its very cage, sir..."

He stepped back, contemplating your words. The thought was foreign, yet it resonated with an undeniable truth.

Too real.

It felt way too real for him.

"You're quite insightful for someone so naive.”

"Please... just let me go," you whispered, your heart pounding.

He giggles again. It’s just one of the many unnerving qualities he possesses, as you recognize.

"I can't do that," he said softly, his tone shifting. "But I can promise you this—your voice matters to me now, little dove."

"After all," he added, his grin returning with a hint of mischief, "what fun would it be to let you go without revealing some of my tricks first? Riiiight??!!"

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

He either met you during a pivotal, life-altering event, like when he was gravely wounded (edgy and intimate), or in a more everyday setting, like a grocery store or shopping mall (wholesome and adorable). I’ll go with the second option, just as you’ve chosen.

He coughs as he takes the shopping bags into his hand, nothing more than some snacks placed inside.

He feels particularly weak today, and he knows it’s best if he returns to a safe space.

It’s time to go home.

As he walks, his thoughts swirl with a familiar frustration.

Weakness gnaws at him, contradicting everything he knows he needs to know—survival of the fittest, strength above all.

He can’t even enjoy something as simple as crisps without feeling the sting of inadequacy, a reminder that he constantly strives to prove himself strong despite the frailty he sometimes feels.

However, a certain someone might change this mindset of his at some point. It’s you.

Scenario

“Excuse me!”

The soft voice cuts through his thoughts, and he turns around, annoyance bubbling to the surface.

He dislikes attention, especially in public spaces. It serves no purpose, and as a mafioso, he values his ability to blend in, to move through the world unnoticed. Drawing any kind of attention to himself, especially when he feels vulnerable, is the last thing he wants.

He scans the area, irritation rising when he realizes there’s no one in sight. His first thought is that he’s hallucinating—another sign that he needs to retreat to his quarters before the nausea overwhelms him.

But then, out of nowhere, you appear. Right in front of him.

His eyes widen slightly, just enough to betray his surprise.

His shock is mild but undeniable as he takes in the sight of you, someone warm and inviting, standing confidently before him. What could someone like you possibly want from him?

Akutagawa’s gaze flickers over you, searching for a reason, a threat, something to explain why you’re in his path. The unfamiliarity of the encounter makes him uncomfortable, and his guard instinctively rises.

“You dropped this…”

Your voice, kind and genuine, takes him off guard for the second time. Two moments of confusion in a single encounter—he’s already feeling off balance.

It would be a sight to behold had you known who he truly was—one of Yokohama’s most feared mafiosos.

You’re holding out his handkerchief. The one he uses to cough into.

His gaze shifts to the cloth in your hand, then back to your face. The urge to dismiss you rises quickly, but as he looks away, something unexpected happens.

Your eyes meet his. His cold, grey stare, which normally repels others or leaves them frozen, meets your gaze, and for a brief moment, something inside him stirs. The sensation is strange—something between discomfort and intrigue—as if, for just a second, he sees you differently. Not just as a stranger, but as something… more.

He’s not used to this. The feeling tingles at the edges of his awareness, unsettling and foreign, making him question what it is about you that sparked this unfamiliar warmth in his chest. In that instant, he feels the weight of his ideals—the relentless pursuit of strength and dominance—shift slightly, as though something in him yearns for connection despite the ferocity with which he clings to his principles.

Akutagawa hesitates, caught off guard by the genuine kindness radiating from you. He can feel the knot in his chest tightening as he grapples with the implications of your presence.

He clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure. “… Thanks,” he mutters, his voice low and rough, barely above a whisper.

The handkerchief hangs awkwardly between you, and he feels a surge of irritation at the vulnerability it represents.

You smile at his gratitude, and he can’t help but find the expression both refreshing and irritating.

“You didn’t have to bother. It’s nothing important.”

You tilt your head to the side. What could he mean? Nothing important as in ‘just a handkerchief’? It looked expensive. It definitely didn’t look like something you’d throw away after using it once.

“I wanted to,” you reply, your tone light and genuine. “I couldn’t just leave it there.”

He narrows his eyes, instinctively defensive. “Most people wouldn’t bother,” he retorts, his annoyance flaring up.

Oh, he wasn’t trying to blend in at all. He was being impolite.“They don’t care about things that don’t concern them.”

Your gaze wavers slightly, making him feel uncomfortable, which catches him off guard.

“But I do care. Sometimes, it’s the little things that matter.”

He scoffs, an edge to his voice. He mumbles, ready to leave any moment. “Little things? They mean nothing.”

You either survive or you don’t.—Is what he told himself. He recognised that he stepped out of the line. The nausea surely wasn’t helping him.

“Maybe,” you say, unfazed, “but that doesn’t mean we have to give in to that. We can choose to be different.”

Akutagawa’s chest tightens at your words. What were you yapping about? Like that stupid weretiger. He shifts his weight, irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

“You think you can change anything?” he asks, skepticism lacing his tone. He wants to leave. Your presence is making him feel uncomfortable.

“I believe we can,” you answer, your conviction steady. “Even if it’s just for one person at a time.”

His heart races, battling against his instinct to retreat into his shell. He studies you, trying to dissect your motivations, to find the weakness in your resolve.

“And you think you’re that person?” he challenges, his eyes cold.

“Why not?” you reply, meeting his gaze head-on. “If you’re open to it.”

His cheeks flush slightly. He feels an unexpected pull toward you, and he knows that he needs to leave. Now.

[ethereal-blossom]

Giving BSD boys a blowjob for the first time

ft. dazai, kunikida

warnings: blowjobs (surprise!) MDNI

a/n: kinda wrote these in mind thinking it was also giving them a handjob for the first time so I guess that's double the fun!

Dazai Osamu ♡

Your eyes looked up to find Dazai's face, searching for a sign of approval. In response, Dazai let out a validating, soft moan and closed his eyes as he nodded. "You're doing excellent, belladonna."

It wasn't unexpected. Dazai, sharp and observant as a hawk, had seen the way your eyes lingered over every small change in his facial expressions. While you were dating, both of you had agreed to take things slow. Even small milestones like holding hands was a huge thing for the man that was wrapped in bandages. The slow burn of deepening your relationship into each other's hearts until it left a permanent mark that even time couldn't erase, was wonderful.

But with time grows desire. Dazai teased you to the point of dilated pupils, hitching breaths, and a blush that cups your cheeks. Exactly like planned, the detective thought, smirking behind the mask of crafted innocence. Except, the plan had been for you to beg him to touch you; not that you would beg to make him feel good as your fingers pushed his hips onto the couch. Dazai is highly aware of his intelligence that makes him read people as if they are a children's book, but sometimes, he thinks he doesn't always grab your nature. The type of nature that has you on your knees in front of him, getting high off of his pleasure.

When you wanted to focus your attention back on the twitching cock in your hand, the sight of Dazai's fingers grabbed your attention. You knew Dazai better than any living soul. Although still a mystery novel that hides behind words of deceive and avoidance to keep parts of itself hidden until the time of reveal is there, this mystery novel was slowly showing you its pages that brought you closer to the truth.

One of the mysteries revealed was Dazai's massive self-control over his external reactions. Emotions were another vulnerable aspect of what it meant to be human, and Dazai hid them masterfully. A part of that was because it functioned as a tactic to reach his goals and stay in control, but a part of you wondered if it was because Dazai feared vulnerability more than a bullet. Emotional suffering is torture for the ones with a sensitive heart.

While Dazai's face was decorated in controlled bliss and his moans playing like a soft lullaby, the slender fingers around the sheets were clinging for dear life. You see... could you make another crack in that composed facade?

Your thumb starts drawing circles over Dazai's tip and with that, you witnessed the twitching of both his cock and fingers. A soft groan escaped Dazai's clenched jaw. "Ah, that's my belladonna. You're soo good to me, hm? Working hard for that reward." That controlled tone...

... It wasn't enough.

Dazai could tell something changed. Even though he had his eyes closed in concentration, clinging to the tiny bit of control he had, he noticed how your stroking became irregular. "What's filling your mind that isn't my- argh, shit." Dazai's eyes shot open as he bolted his hips deeper into your mouth, leaving you gagged for a good second.

That face of pure shock and arousal, the one you rarely got to see on your lover, revealed itself to you as you had taken Dazai's tip into your mouth. "Y/N, that's-"

Another lick and Dazai's original sentence was replaced by a moan, and the detective felt like all control slipped between his fingers when you placed your hands around the rest of his cock.

Dazai grabbed your hair, hissing you to go slower because oh God, he was about to cum faster than he ever did in his twenty-two years of living, and God knows he did not want this euphoria to end this soon. Oh, he really wasn't used to feeling this good-

"Belladonna, y/n, please-" Dazai didn't know what he was begging you for. For you to go slower? Faster? What it was, you hummed in approval. That little vibration was all it needed for Dazai to throw his head in his neck. His toes curled as high-pitched whines fell over lips that had become swollen in a miserable attempt to hide his moans.

When you looked up after swallowing, you were met with Dazai's bangs hanging over his eyes. "Osamu, are you okay?" Worried, you push the chocolate colored bangs aside and... oh.

He was so pretty with scarlet painted cheeks. Dazai couldn't even look you in the eyes, giving up after one second of eye-contact before shyly facing another side with his head. "That was... good. For a first attempt."

You chuckled as your hand caresses the cheek that faced your way and with a slightly hoarse voice you respond: "Good. I'll make you even feel better next time."

Dazai's hands twitch one last time before he closes his eyes and mentally picks up every string that he lost along the way. As the detective opens his eyes, you can see the control and seduction in those dark eyes that you love so much.

Dazai leans closer until you feel his breath on your ear. His lips tickle and a shiver runs down your spine as he whispers: "Someone has earned that reward, hasn't she? Let's see how long I can make you last."

Kunikida Doppo ♡

Rubies could not compete with the radiant red glow of Kunikida's face as he realized what you were about to do. The detective should have known you were up to something when he was preparing today's schedule and you had popped up behind him, placing your arms around his waist as you kissed his neck and whispered: "Keep a spot open at 8 PM, love."

Even when the blond had asked for details, your lips stayed sealed. The only hint Kunikida got out of you was "Dazai has made you work over-hours; I want to treat you."

Naively, innocently, Kunikida thought you might have a dinner or massage in mind. Not that he was wrong! It was just a... different type of massage. With your tender fingers wrapped around his cock, Kunikida clenched his jaw to not make a sound, but the moan slipped away as he sighed your name: "Y/n... I, we-"

"Does it feel good, Doppo?" You made sure to rub his tip with your thumb right then, making the detective's cock drop with pre-cum.

"It- yes... yes, it feels good."

Looking up blessed you with the sight of an orderly man turned into a mess under the tip of your fingers. A wave of arousal rushed through your body, seeing the man unravel in front of you. You figured he would be vocal, but oh-

Kunikida was sensitive. The smallest movement had him throwing his head back and trusting his hip as tiny moans calling your name filled the room. Not only were his cheeks the color of fire due to the heat of your touch, but the intimacy of it all left him flustered as well.

You felt a hand rest on your head, lightly gripping a bit of hair. "Y/n... we, you- I have to make you feel good, too."

Oh. "That has to wait."

"But- ah!" The hand around your hair tightened in response to your mouth taking his cock.

Kunikida's thoughts were twirled up in the storm that was you. Your name rolled off his tongue like worshipping prayers as you brought Heaven to earth for him.

The bliss of touching Heaven became too much, and with one closing word, Kunikida fell apart. He arched his back, forgetting to bite his lip to soften the groans that might slip through the walls where his colleagues live. His grip around you tightens, never wanting to let you go, never wanting to let this feeling go. But then Kunikida realizes he's still on earth and lessens his grip on the fear he's hurting you.

The detective looked into your eyes, but they were filled with lust directed at him and God, it felt so sinful that he had to deflect his gaze. Yet, you grabbed his chin and made your boyfriend face you.

"Do you feel better?"

Kunikida stammered, trying to get out a word. "Yes, that was," an embarrassed cough, "excellent." 

Your thumb caressed his lip. "Good."

And then, the world flipped around as Kunikida lay your back on the bed. "I have done a deep-dive research on how to please you when the time was there. Now, let me return the favor." 

[osamucide]

⊹ THE FIRST TASTE

LET IT BEGIN, HEAVEN CANNOT WAIT FOREVER . . . ft. Osamu Dazai

wc: ~3.6k

cw: NSFW CONTENT—MDNI (I BLOCK AGELESS+BLANK BLOGS), ada+masc!reader, reader has a tongue piercing, pet names (pretty boy and cutie for u), romantic and sexual tension, established flirtationship->new relationship?, a lil alcohol, making out, oral fixation/finger sucking, oral sex (Dazai receiving), cum eating (Dazai lol), patheticzai makes a spectacle of your shyness even though he can't just ask for what he wants good thing u have telepathy with him /j

reid: trade w my sweet friend @rossithepixie / @selfindulgentpixies who masterminded some beautiful osareid art for me <3 (if u havent seen it yet dw i will be reblogging it a million more times but also check out rossi's work neow cause he's super talented). thank you for trusting me with this rossi—it was such a blast to do a little lovesick dazai desperately chasing ur cute lil self into a corner (i listened to fiona apple's song with the same title a lot while i wrote this—is it obvious? lol). i hope u enjoy so much <3

It’s a cute little habit of yours. Unconscious, he knows, but that makes it no less cute. No less dangerous. 

Everyone notices you do it—Atsushi pointed out the jewelry poking from your mouth with awe when he first caught you fidgeting with it (“People can have piercings there? That’s so cool”)—but Osamu highly doubts anyone finds it nearly as charming, as endearing as he himself does. After all, he’s the one consistently wheeling over next to you on his chair to fold his arms under his chin on your desk and admire you unashamedly while you tie a loose end around a sentence in whatever report you’re writing before even thinking about turning your attention to him. 

So diligent. 

That’s another cute thing about you. You've been a star worker, really, since you started. In the months since you got hired, your reports have been nothing but thorough and on time; even your first steps into fieldwork as a detective have been spotless, practiced, as if you already know this work like the back of your hand. You’re personable yet serious, easygoing and dedicated all at the same time, continually proving your worth as a voice of reason and contribution around the meeting table as well as a supportive, kind, all-around more than pleasant coworker on and off of crime scenes. Not to mention, your ability’s nothing to scoff at.

You’re a true asset to the Armed Detective Agency. 

Which is why Kunikida’s glaring Osamu down again, threatening him silently with an HR department that unfortunately doesn’t exist—because, yes, you are for all intents and purposes perfect for this workplace and the blond man will simply not have you driven off by his partner’s insufferable tendencies. 

Even Kunikida’s wrath, however, is scarcely known to deter Osamu Dazai, and that is why, when he notices you doing it again—toying with the metal bar through your tongue in an absentminded display of your oh-so-coveted concentration on and application to your task, he scoots himself right over, rowing on his heels, brushing admonishing stares like he might dust off his shoulder and settling next to you, chin in his palm, feet knocking into yours beneath your desk. 

As expected, you don’t turn to him immediately. All the better. Gives him a few seconds more to admire you, your parted lips, the glint of the metal and your pretty teeth against the natural light streaming into the office on this lovely day, made all the lovelier by the vision of your adorable expression.

But when you do, it’s melt-worthy. 

“Hi, Osamu,” you mumble, turning your eyes to him and tucking your tongue back in to offer him that sweet but aware, workplace-appropriate smile that makes him grin even further. You’d have to be naive not to know he wants to strip you of that professionalism, but you make sure to give him time of day in only the most graceful way when you’re both at the office; for as charming as he is, and for as much as you must shyly admit you find him endearing just the same, you don’t turn a blind eye to his cunning nature. 

And like so many things, it’s a bit of a game that he enjoys—seeing what he can do to crack that competence of yours. 

But today he’s restless, so he punches low from the jump. 

“Hi, pretty boy,” he purrs, gaze searing into you. Signature. 

And just like he hopes, your brow raises and you look away, pursing your lips to mask your reaction to his antics. He usually toys with you a little longer before he brandishes the pet name he knows all too well gets your cheeks glowing pink in an instant—and that’s exactly what they do. Your coyness can’t hide that. 

“Eager today, are we?” you fill the silence with the lighthearted accusation, busying yourself on your keyboard so as to fight off the squirming you’re sensing will be futile to escape this afternoon.

“Yup.” When he pops the p, he nudges your ankle with his own. 

But in your busying, the tip of your tongue flicks out again, and Osamu’s seemingly-aimless display of fluster-inducing attention surges toward its goal, which he’s been contemplating for a few days now, actually: getting you out of this stuffy office (or the all-too public nearby bar you’ve started frequenting with him after hours, strictly as friends it seems—if friends tangle their fingers together after a few cocktails and then don’t make mention of it the next day, anyway) and into his dorm, which he actually tidied up because he calculated with most near-certainty there couldn’t possibly exist a world in which you’d turn down such an invitation. So he hopes, anyway. For as player as he acts, the way you make him feel sows seeds of doubt in him and his usual methods of seduction. You know full well how sincerely captivated he is by you… right? You must. You have to. 

“You know,” he continues, “I was wondering…” 

Mincing his words is never part of his plans. Unless, of course, it’ll draw a desired outcome closer than being direct will. But now, Osamu finds himself almost hesitating, with no prior inclination to do so; he’s wondering, not thinking, like he seems to do so much when you’re near him, and he doesn't know if you fully realize it, but you might have more control over… whatever this is between you than he does.

You tilt your head, still turned to your screen, as if it begins to occur to you. 

“...Drinks at my place?” he spits out—pointedly dropping the “double suicide?” intonation so it’s clear he’s serious—before he can give any more indication that he’s slipping.

When you look to him again, Osamu’s filled the space of his doubt with that low-lidded grin once more.

“Tonight?” 

“Tonight? Oh—” You clear your throat in a way that sounds oddly affirmative, as if you’re trying to keep it from bubbling out too soon. You’re so assured in everything else you do around here, so Osamu, ever the contrarian, regains his balance on the premise of your shyness. When you go to confirm, you’ve all but lost your teasing lilt. The flush on your face doesn’t miss him. “Yeah, that’d be nice, Osamu.” 

Nice. If he didn’t have an image to upkeep, he’d leap up and fistpump the air like a cartoon character. Perhaps, if he were more in tune with his hand-to-god emotions, he’d crumble to the floor in a ball wondering what the hell he’s getting himself into.

He doesn’t do this. He doesn’t clean his dorm, much less invite romantic prospects over to it. You’re new territory in the way he feels freshly determined not to mess up, so he keeps himself composed behind that smile. “When are you out of here?” 

“I can be out of here whenever you’re out of here,” you mumble, your lips pressed into a smirk you won’t let unfurl fully. He wishes you would. He’ll get you to. If he had it his way, he’d whisk you out of here now, clock be damned, and pop open that red dessert wine he picked up specifically for the event in which you would land on his uncomfortable little couch with your tongue lingering in, hopefully, closer proximity to his own. He’s seen you tipsy; you don’t suppress that air of sheepish enthrallment so much when you are, and he’s impatient for it. He needs more of you.

But it’s three in the afternoon, and Kunikida’s abruptly dragging Osamu by the collar of his shirt like a puppy on a leash to roll him back over to his own damn desk, muttering something about how if he had any decency he’d leave you the hell alone and if he wasn’t going to contribute anything of worth to the Agency’s productivity yield, the least he could do was not disturb those who are. 

This makes you chuckle fully as you shake your head. Osamu eats it up—and he doesn’t hide it, eyeing you with something most akin to yearning in his gaze. You have such an effortless knack for putting hearts in his eyes in a way he’s not used to. 

The rest of his shift dawdles by; as a way to pass the time, Osamu volunteers himself to run out and pick up the Thai takeout for those who will be clocking out later than he hopes he will. Kunikida so graciously (read: reluctantly and irritatedly) let him order on his card, so he claimed it as repayment; really, he needed to get out of his desk chair. 

He feels insane watching you play with that piercing of yours, his stack of unfinished reports (or, pre-construction paper planes) serving as no distraction. 

He delivers your spring rolls to you with a wink. He eats his pad thai and fools around on his desktop. He watches the sun streak down the window.

He actually considers getting some work done. It’s nearly torture.

He gets up to leave the second the clock strikes eight. If he was bad at focusing on work before, you’ve ruined him. 

The implication’s all too clear when you’re stepping into the evening air behind him. You don’t mind—it’s evident in your reserved but knowing smile, the one he so terribly wants to unravel. 

His place is threadbare, but cozy. You curl yourself up on one of the two couch cushions while Osamu sets two empty glasses and a bottle on the low table before you—he’s eager, too, for the wine; he’s aching to dispel both your timidity and his anxiety that it feeds. Maybe it’s just that he can’t seem to handle himself positively spiraling over you while you remain enchantingly reticent, quiet in the desire he knows flows between you both. Usually, he’s the one with all the self-control. Tonight he’s counting on you missing the tremble in his fingers as he pours. 

“Kunikida’s such a hardass, isn’t he?” he muses while he tucks a glass into your hand and draws himself up onto the couch, facing you, leaving a respectful but still considerably involved distance between you. Your knee almost touches his. “Berating me for something as little as asking such a cutie to come over for drinks. It’d be more criminal not to, I think.” 

You chuckle at his dramatics, taking a sip. It’s sweet, red. You remind him, “We are coworkers, Osamu.” 

He cocks his head, drinking deeper than you do, with a thoughtful look on his gorgeous face. He hums and reminds you, “We’re not just coworkers.” 

Your chuckle becomes a giggle—one less dubious than the short, amused headshakes you save for the office—and with your next question, he knows he’s pulling you in. You’ve been dancing around each other long enough; he’s warm, trying not to overflow when you speak—you finally sound ready to acknowledge what’s been turning him into a mess for you when you hum and press skittishly. If he had a tail, it’d be wagging. 

“What else are we then, hm?” 

Your bashfulness reads so seamlessly as effortless wooing—he wonders if you’re so purely humble, or actually a mastermind of coquetry. The way you keep yourself veiled, thinly enough to keep him pining for more of you but staunchly too so that he constantly doubts whether the cat or the mouse has the upper hand, turns him to mush—absolute pathetic mush—and he answers a question with a question. You’ve got him going against all sorts of personal philosophy. 

“What else do you wanna be?” 

The answer gets lost between shifting hands, closing space, conversation and jokes that relax further and further as you both stabilize into one another over the following hour or so. A couple more glasses of wine are poured, drank, tasted—at some point in the blackening night you end up astride his lap in the dim lamplight with your glass in triumphant hand, tucking his hair behind his ear while he cups your face, simpers out another remark that makes you blush and wave him away; Osamu looks at you with something you can only construe through your buzz as pure want. Coming down from laughter that screws your eyes shut—he’s never short on humor, which is one of the things you think you love—love? about him, you say it aloud, tell him you do in fact love that about him and if he was all pure want a moment before, now he’s pure shock. 

But he plays it off in his way; you watch the intricate way he takes no more than a half-second to collect himself, just tipsy enough to get snagged on the words love that about you that the half-second seems a feature-length film to you—one you would watch over, over, over again. 

Osamu slides four fingers on one side of your jaw, thumb on the other—holding your chin gently but firmly in place so he can bore like fire into you.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, half sincere, half flirtatious. Your gaze scatters momentarily beneath his; you take a second, copy his recovery.  

You hesitate before you say, “I think I have some idea,” fully sincere, fully flirtatious. When you pinch your bottom lip between your teeth—not an unconscious habit but an intentional move in this game—he thinks this is what middle school boys must feel like the first time they get close to their crush. It sickens him so sweetly, like he’s swallowed a lump of sugar. He wants more. 

Your breath coils around his between your noses, between your mouths. The wine in your glass sloshes and settles.  

“Can I tell you what drives me crazy?” he breathes. 

You nod like you’ve been waiting lifetimes to know. 

He answers not with words but a touch to your lip—a stroke back and forth that leaves you parting for him. He leaves feather-light fingerprints on the sharp of your front teeth, pushing, slowly, forward until the hot muscle in your mouth cradles his thumb and he’s touching that devil-sent piercing of yours, the ball all at once cool and warm as it twirls to evade him.

“This,” he whispers, chasing the metal back and forth. “This drives me crazy.” 

You don’t respond with anything but suction, a soft bob of your head like you understand, and a hmm.

Osamu thinks he might implode beneath you. 

His attention has hardly ever felt so streamlined as when you search his face, circle his thumb, wet it for him to retract and drag down your chin while you draw your brow together like you miss it—his eyes are all yours, wide and waiting and holding the answers to all the questions drifting around, surrounding both of you. 

The kiss is searing as he pulls you into him—or, hardly has to, rather, as your eyes flutter shut and you lean to meet him, five of your fingers matching his grip but on his shoulder while you suffocate that mingled breath so it becomes mingled spit, mingled tongues. He worms himself past your lips, into you—he almost moans when the tip of his own tongue brushes across the jewelry sitting on the pad of your tongue like a pearl in an oyster. He’s finally cracking you open. It makes him smile wickedly into you. 

Your arms locking around his neck leave him rolling into you hotly, asking for you with anything but words which escape him again now—so uncharacteristic, but he’s lucky you’re both too entangled to notice, for words aren’t necessary right now; he’s ushering your wine glass out of your hand, setting his, too, onto the table so you can wind your fingers in his hair and tug, prompting the sweetest gasps that you echo back into him while he guides your hips across him. The fervor either of you holds is indistinguishable from the other; you grind, he grips you, the harder he grips you the harder you grind and vice versa until he’s biting down the column of your neck toward absolution. 

He mutters your name through an umph; you pick his lips back up the second he goes for air, and he goes for your tongue. When you pull back to observe him, mirroring you in kiss-puffiness and staccato breath, he’s wild between your eyes and your lips. 

“That’s all for you,” he tells you when he grabs your wrist and guides you to palm his cock before you hit him with another question for the ages—one that will not receive a verbal answer but a noise from his throat he swears he’s never heard himself make before.

“Wanna feel it?” 

God, has he ever wanted anything more in his life? The erection he’s built up just from kissing you, moving you against him, is all the evidence either of you need. 

Regardless, Osamu’s nodding fervently, chocolate locks swaying. 

So, you take your turn kissing down him until you’re pooled at his feet, between his knees, with devoted fingers undoing the button on his pants; the task at hand, so sweetly and circularly, has your tongue poking out in concentration as you work his waistband down. Osamu twitches at the sight—he doesn’t mean to mutter you’re so fucking adorable but he does, he does. It’s your turn to grin wickedly as you take his cock out, your turn to tease with your thumb on his drooling tip, your turn to explore with your mouth. 

You’ve had the reins all this time, really—from the first day you sat at your desk, making that attentive face. He must be the luckiest sucker in the world to have ended up here, with your shining eyes watching him fall apart as your honeyed lips guide him toward sweet devastation. 

The first stripe you lick up his underside sends Osamu’s head flying back, jaw falling slack on the end of a breathy “fuck!”

And he feels every stride of your tongue piercing when you wrap your lips around his tip and swirl. 

The sounds you draw from Osamu’s open mouth are like song; diligent in this task as you are every other one, it’s hardly a minute before he’s tangling his fingers in your hair, crooning your name between broken praises that come naturally as you hold him, lick him, look up at him with eyes that he thinks could turn him to stone—if only you had been evil, that is, but realistically, you can’t be anything other than an angel. 

“Pretty boy, you—” 

At that name, you groan. Take him further. 

And through how good it feels, he laughs. 

“Oh, you like that? Huh?” He could pull you off him if he wanted a response, but you’re too heavenly to interrupt—anyway, he already knows how you feel about pretty boy. 

You hum around him—another sensation that sends him reeling with oh, god on his lips. 

“That’s it… Feels s’good on me. Unh—yeah, like that…” 

Indirectivity and grandeur has always been something Osamu considers himself a professional in—everything you do throws him for a loop and the way you bob up and down does him no favors. He whines in the way he does when he’s already going to finish all too quickly, but the fact that it’s you bringing him to his end—his cute coworker he’s been pining after since your first day on the job, the one that’s inspired such foreign feelings of wonder in his long-gone-cold heart—has him unreservedly bucking his hips into your mouth as you rake your nails down his thighs, ardent in this undertaking, bobbing frantically like all you’ve ever wanted was to have him noisy and messy underneath you like this. 

“‘m gonna—oh, fuck!” 

But he doesn’t have to tell you; you feel him, spasming on your tongue against the otherworldly friction your jewelry provides—his true downfall, that thing, and the image of you formed around it—you pursue his climax like a predator pursuing prey, pulling away to give him that false sense of security as you rise to your feet, pounce back over him and kiss him so intensely while you handle him, jerk him to orgasm between your bodies; Osamu’s hoarse, aching as he humps the hole you make with your fist and chants yes, yes, yes, please! into your mouth, tasting metal, never wanting it to leave.

He settles into soft panting as you draw your fingers up; he’s beginning to speak— “You’re so—” but you’re cutting him off so he can suck your fingers, taste himself and the way you’ve shattered him so beautifully. And he does, he laps like a man possessed, obsessed with the flavor of himself if only it’s leaving your skin, before you let him continue. “You’re incredible. You and that piercing.” 

You huff out a laugh, but it’s true. He’s convinced you’re a dream in every sense of the word—how did he get so lucky, no—how did the earth get so lucky to have you dropped upon it, right here in Yokohama, doing such scandalous things with that godly mouth of yours? 

“I try,” you quip with a half-shrug, smiling softly, kissing him just so. 

“Do you, now?” Osamu Dazai, who so often loses those good things before he can really grasp them, takes note of another new sensation—unwavering resolve, in the amorous sense—and concludes that if he can help it, this dream will not slip away so quickly. He can’t possibly send you back up to heaven.

He grabs your hips, pulls you onto him. 

Everything you are—all hard working, handsome face, sweet disposition, and tongue ring—he’s wanted it for so long; it would be nonsensical, a tragedy, to let the same evening air you stumbled in on steal you away again.

This is a dilemma he doesn’t have a solution to; not immediately. 

But he speaks anyway, smirking and toying with the button on your pants, overwhelming your frame to put your back to the cushions—turn you into a mess for him.

“Your turn, pretty boy.” 

[irazai]

. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 MY EYES ARE GRATEFUL, THEY BOW INFRONT OF YOU ; a dazai osamu fic. ❞

SUMMARY . dazai is a coward. he knows it. and he is damn sure the universe hates him to put him in this predicament -- a rainy day, you and your flirty mouth, alone in one house with his heart beating and stomach churning in desire. he only has so much self control to refrain himself from pouncing onto you when you ask him to teach you to dance.

❛ ━━･❪ my brain always cowers in fear ;

when the heart of a lover is near.

and why do i still feel shame?

when even my heart ignites in flames.

flames of resistance light me up ;

oh, how do you resist the line separating you from inanity?

drown with me and frown at me ;

you are insatiable, really you are.

the sight of a lover fills me with regret ;

and i drown in the river of love.

for this love of your's is a desire.

had i resisted it any longer,

would i continue to cower in fear at the sight of a lover? ❫ ･━━ ❜

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . um i tried writing poetry yet again and if no one appreciates me and especially on dazai's bday then i will be very sad \●o●/.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; bestfriends's older brother!dazai, fem!reader, angst, nsfw, slow burn.

desires. hidden or not, everyone has some or a certain kind of desire to some extent which should never be revealed to a second party or acted upon due to our own conscience and morals labeling this desire as 'scandalous', 'forbidden', 'wrong'.

but humans act. we act. on desires too tempting, we act.

and if the desire is a man named dazai osamu, it's hard to not act on it.

the man is wrapped with temptation, oozing with illicit desires everytime he opens his mouth or as much as looks at you.

yet funnily enough, you always find yourself waltzing between the border of temptation and desire, on the line of conscience. everytime you somehow find yourself in a situation where you are alone with dazai.

you smiled as you thank him before even entering the car ; for going through the hassle of picking you up from your viola lessons as the weather isn't ideal for a pedestrian.

with a sheet of grey covering the sky and asking the clouds from nearby to gather and be its audience, the winds blew in a chilly excitement yet that didn't affect you as soon as you closed the car door, smiling at dazai as you were about to thank him again. but he is aware of your habits and personality by now.

so dazai leaned a bit near you to place his index finger on your lips, gently silencing you as he smiled charmingly, "uh uh, not another word out of those preety lips darling. you don't gotta thank me, you know i would never mind doing anything for you, right?"

he says to move your heartstrings to his likings but your brain knows not to let your heart fall for this. he has been doing this ever since you first knocked on their house door, a innocent smile on your face as you told the charming boy that you were here for his younger sister due to being partnered up for a project. and at that time, you were naive and blinded by childish innocence to not notice the charming smirk laced with flirtation was the only sign to identify him as the devil.

that was then when you were fourteen and he was sixteen and the present is now when you are nineteen and he is twenty one.

you part your lips a bit to let your tongue out and licked his finger, you watched with mirth how his eyes widened and he immediately pulled his finger back though the faint pink which settled on the shell of his ears isn't a detail you can ignore now, not after spending years admiring him.

"looks like you have no self control darling." dazai muttered, grinning a bit as he turned the key to start the car again and you scoffed playfully, shaking your head to let go of the hesitance that's holding you back.

". . . if it's for a man like you, i don't have self control or resistance then." you smile as you flirt in an attempt to gauge out his reactions. one hint is all you need to retreat or continue with these feelings you have been harbouring since so long. one hint at whether he feels the same or not and you will be content till your heart aches once again for your fantasies to become true and till your brain pities your heart enough to go against its usual rational ways to go with the flow of feelings and emotions.

"keep speaking like this and i am sure to melt." dazai continued to grin yet that grin faltered soon when you raised your hands slightly over your head to strech them, bending to the side as much as the cramped space of the car allows and a deep sigh left your lips the moment you felt your stiff muscles being streched, the pleasantly specific sensation had taken over your body for a mere few seconds.

and in those few seconds, hands of temptation that dazai always holds, now began to wonder all over his own body.

it had been definitely the work of the sweater you wore above the black bodycon dress reaching just a bit above your knees. the sweater was loose and hanged loosely by your shoulders but when you stretched your hands a bit, it moved up to reveal your covered clevage a bit. maybe it was the bold dress itself or maybe the fragrance you used -- either way, something made dazai fall on his feet and the hand offered to help him on his feets were you, dressed in temptation.

swaying him by tilting your head, you waltzed and led him deeper into your web of temptation while he let you, watching you dreamily.

"you are staring." you point out after finding him nor his gaze faltering away from you and truthfully, as much as it's making you nervous, it's also making your stomach and lower abdomen feel tingles of joy.

"mhm." he hummed.

"you do that alot."

maybe it's the weather letting you two be carefree or perhaps the frustrations finally breaking. desperation taking charge of the revolution which is the confession of the state of the heart, prepared to overthrow the brain and its tyrannical ways of controlling the heart by throwing fears and doubts towards it. fear and doubts who were birthed from insecurities.

"do what?"

"stare at me. why?" you look at him curiously and dazai furrows his eyebrows as he too thinks on why he does this. what exactly makes him do this.

he slowly parted his lips as he stared at his bandaged hands, eyebrows still furrowed due to focusing on trying to decipher each and every feeling and thought of his.

"i just do . . . i can't really help myself. whenever you walk in our house as well, it's like i just can't look away from you. i don't know why but it's like you are a magnet. my eyes always find you." dazai quietly and lowly admitted. to him and to you.

"always?" you tilt your head. goosebumps rised on your arms to bid goodbye to the dictatorship of the brain and insecurities which took a step back.

dazai looked at you and gulped. he stayed quiet for a few seconds as he let temptation in the form of you to wrap your arms around him in the ballroom and allowed you to pull him towards you till your noses bumped.

you are temptation. he is tempted.

he looked at your features quickly and nodded, whispering, "always."

oh! eyes are the beholder of the truth and lies,

and staring at you would perhaps be dazai's demise.

"that's good to know." you softly tell as you look out of the window and at the same time, dazai too looks away from you as he stares at the road ahead and begins to drive.

you lean your elbow against the window as you cover your mouth with your palm, smiling shyly at the way his words repeat in your mind and makes all your cells to celebrate in joy.

dazai glanced at you when you had rolled down the window and he felt his heart stop beating for a mere second when he watched you, the way the wind from outside had you closing your eyes ; he truly can never take his eyes away from you.

tragedy it is!

he has to drive the car or else he would've loved to sit in silence and mindlessly admire you, once again memorize the curve of your nose and jaw, your eyebrows and eyelashes and your cheeks which he wants to cup and caress with his fingers.

dazai shook his head a bit to get rid of these tempting thoughts and looked forwards though the way his heart had lifted the ends of his lips into a small smile isn't something he could or would get rid of. letting the serendipity of this moment convince his brain to let his heart control for once and to give priority to emotions rather then rationality for this one moment.

a romantic tragedy!

how his hands itch and twitch to grab yours which lays on your lap yet he can't.

why?

because some desires should not be acted on, ever. or that's what a coward says to himself.

but humans act! the world is our stage. a man performs till he dies and when he dies, his successors perform!

and no human lived without performing. without acting.

acting to hide oneself. acting on one's desires.

dazai lifted one of his hands and placed it on top of yours, watching from his peripheral vision as you looked startled and looked down at his hand on top of your's. your breathing quickened a bit but soon it went back to normal again and you relaxed even more then what you were before.

dazai felt himself getting relief in exchange of the breath he exhaled when you didn't say anything or try to push his hand off. you just looked out of the window and dazai focused on driving again.

yet he felt blood rush to his cheeks and settle over there in the form of a faint pink blush when only a few seconds later, you lifted your other hand and placed it on top of his, squeezing it lightly.

this must mean you share some feelings for him too, right? should he take a step forwards or should he stay in this lane and just continue to playfully flirt and tease you?

but what about the coil of confession in his throat that is begging to be let out right now, begging to be uncoiled and let you hear his words of vulnerability.

but a step forwards initiates a change and dazai would hate if the change between you two and the relationship you share now is bad.

so he stays. like the human he is, he hesitates and he acts!

not on his desires but by wearing the mask on self restraint.

for a few minutes in the chilly and descending into chaos like weather, you and dazai sat in silence as you idly caress his knuckles with the pad of your thumb before you remember something and you softly gasp, making dazai look at you as he hums at the sudden noise.

"i have a dance on next friday. my professor said if i danced at the freshers party with another senior, she'll give me extra credits points." you tell as you raise your head to stare and dazai and he hums, telling you silently to continue.

". . . i dont know how to dance. never did it." you admit quietly and watch the first flower bloom when spring approaches and in the same sense, dazai's lips curve upwards as he throws a quick glance at you.

dazai looks good no matter what. and only if your eyes could look past the nonchalant exterior, you could've seen bitter jealousy take over him at the thought of you dancing with someone else and being in the arms of another man who isn't him.

dazai looks good no matter what he is feeling though.

but you decided that you prefer him the way he is now. quiet yet sincere and a bit of a coward to face his feelings head on but this has dazai. a charming loser.

"you want me to teach you?"

"yeah."

"why?" dazai asked and it was your turn to go silent now but unlike him who did so to search for the right words, you went quiet to search for courage to tell what your heart carved out of its flesh.

"because you . . are like a breath of fresh air which burns my lungs." raw and sincere, words spoken without fear then why are your words so confusing.

"pardon?" dazai looked at you with furrowed eyebrows as he stops the car infront of a red signal. "what do you mean?"

you take a deep breath as you stare at him, the soft frown on his face as his eyes are filled with confusion.

he must've made amends with gravity or the one who controls it. because you have no other way to explain why you are leaning towards him slowly. dazai found his eyes staring at your face and then your lips and then at your chest which was rising and falling and he loved how you were always so open and easy to read yet at the same time so hard to reach and touch and to cherish.

"you burn me because . . ." you trail off. the words to end this sentence are hanging from the tip of your tongue but they refuse to fall and ruin the glass surface of this relationship you two have, the words are afraid to break the glass and discover what is hidden under it in fear of being rejected. you stop leaning closer.

dazai didn't like your sudden stop and so, he continued on the journey you abruptly stopped on, leaning near you as he lowly spoke, "because? complete your words darling."

"because . . ." you breath out as you see him leaning near and your eyes nearly fluttured shut when the tip of his nose bumped into yours but he still did not stop and so you softly called, "dazai?"

"osamu. don't call me dazai, it's osamu for you." he corrected you and the moment his lips lightly touched your's, hearing your incomplete words didn't matter anymore. dazai wanted to close his eyes, to grab your face and pull you closer, to explore your body and tightly grab and squeeze your hands but the red light turning green from his peripheral vision stopped him. it woke him from his dreams and told him to get a grip of himself.

and when he turned around to focus on driving again, you leaned back on the seat with widened eyes. you wonder till how long can you control your desires anymore.

. . . you can't. not when the situation played out in your favor in such a weird way.

to put it simply, a chain of events took place once dazai parked the car infront of his house.

it began with light drizzle as you stepped out of his car and by the time you and dazai jogged towards his house, the drizzling turned into full blown rain. the moment dazai opened the door and allowed you inside first, his hand brushed against your ass or maybe that was your imagination. maybe he didn't actually touch your lower waist as he gently pushed you inside the house and maybe his ring and index finger didn't graze over your ass due to his outstretched hand.

that may have been your imagination but the next moment wasn't. you immediately made your way into his sister's room as you've been here many times before to recognize the creak of the stairs beneath your feet immediately. you did not imagine it when you saw your bestfriend's room void of her presence and you certainly did not imagine when dazai entered the room while you were trying to remove the wet sweater.

and this is certainly not a fragment of imagination for no amounts of imagination can mimic the actual feeling of dazai's cold fingertips sliding up your arms as he silently stood infront of you and helped you lift the wet sweater.

you couldn't look at him and so, you closed your eyes but dazai did the opposite as he refused to close his eyes, intensely staring at you.

"mom and dad are stuck with the little brat. they went to a relative's house . . . and won't be returning till the weather turns a bit less violent." he told you in a low voice, void of his usual playfulness and that cherry tone but instead his voice holds a volume of calmness and sincerity and its seducingly dangerous.

his voice reached your ears and the sound waves which traveled through your ear to your brain strayed a bit, reaching to your heart to smile at it. and the way your heartrate accelerated was a clear sign for your brain on how seductive dazai is.

"do you have any idea when they'll return?"

"why? do you not like the idea of being alone with me?" dazai smiled at you as he leaned down after helping you remove the wet sweater, his hands gripped your wrists as he tilted his head.

"that's not what i meant." you try to defend yourself as you gulp at the close proximity and you had spoken up so slowly and nervously that it gave dazai sufficient time to eye you up and down.

"be careful darling," dazai muttered as he raised his eyes to stare at you again, "you are hurting me alot here."

he grinned boyishly at the way you had stiffened up nervously at the beginning of his sentence and the way you blinked after being caught off guard with his joke.

"shit, you are so cute. just wanna kiss you." dazai flirts again yet the way he does so is by using his genuine words and wrap them with the tone of playful flirting.

the line between resistance and desires is the one dazai dances on.

you shake your head as the smile becomes hard to be hidden on your face and away from his sharp eyes. you raise your hands (his hands are still gripping your wrists) and place them on his shoulder before gently pushing him.

"get out, i want to change."

"and? do it infront of me. what's stopping you?" the boyish grin didn't leave dazai's face the way your own amused one didn't leave your's as you continued to talk to him.

and when you two talked it always became hard to keep a track on when a playful banter turned into a confession disguised as flirtation.

"what's stopping you from undressing me?" you reply back but the way his grin faltered as the exact reasons of what is stopping him comes to mind makes him loose the playful aura, like it always does.

your own shoulders dropped when you saw dazai standing straight as he smiled in a flirtatious manner once again but you knew the way he is smiling now and the way he smiled before are very different and this one is far less sincere.

"i'll wait for you in my room." dazai said and oh, why act like nothing happened when a lot clearly did?

"why?" you didn't mean to snap but it happened, since your heart held onto a thread of hope which snapped and now, the heart grew hopeless.

"didn't you say you wanted me to teach you how to dance?" dazai slowly spoke, he watched the temptation dressed in you running away from him and he hopelessly watched you go.

"i changed my mind. i don't want you to teach me . . . anything." you say as you take a step back from him, feeling your knees about to give up. why do you two find yourselves in this predicament every single time? every time when you feel as if you two will develop something and change something, he always takes a step back.

dazai osamu is the biggest coward when it comes to facing his own feelings and emotions.

and who is the fool who said indirect rejections hurted less?

they hurt less? but they are crushing your shoulders under the weight of sorrow and your knees can no longer support your body and carry it.

"are you sure?" dazai quietly asked as he looked at you even when you had turned your head to stare at the curtain flowing due to the windows being opened and letting in the harsh breezes before you slowly looked at him again.

"very." you whisper out as you take another step back while dazai took one forward.

"who will teach you to dance then?"

"i will ask any other guy." you tell the thought which began to plague his mind.

he stood at the entrance of the venue and watched temptation dressed as you stop on your way out to talk to another man, the man began to lean towards you as if with the intention to kiss you and dazai immediately snapped back into the possibilities of reality.

the thought of another guy wrapping his arms around your waist and pull you closer as the two of you waltz and what if your knee brushed against his and this makes the guy lean towards you?

won't dazai be absolutely crushed?

"change. and you will come to my room. am i making myself clear?" dazai demanded and somehow his low tone which is void of any playfulness makes him sound more intimidating and hot.

he reached for your hand to grab your wrist and pulled you towards him, glaring at you but not in anger, his soft eyes told that he isn't angry at you. he is merely jealous at his own imagination and irritated at the possibilities of them becoming the truth in the distant future.

you gulp. why are you feeling butterflies right now?

you could only nod and do nothing else. even after dazai smiled a bit at your obedience and patted your cheek before leaving you.

it took nearly ten minutes for you to change into a oversized t-shirt and some shorts. changing out of your partially wet clothes wasn't what consumed most of your time. rather it was the process of gathering courage and preparing yourself to face the man who makes your heart beat fast and also somehow its him who makes your heart sink too.

you knocked on his door with the back of your knuckles once and entered as you heard him tell you to come in, you closed the door with your leg as your eyes stayed on him as he too had changed into more comfortable and dry clothes which consisted of brown sweatpants and a beige oversized t-shirt.

you aren't supposed to stop in your steps and stare at him but you do because when dazai looks at peace and comfortable, there is no better sight to admire.

"come here darling, you know i won't bite." dazai mocked but he did it so gently that you couldn't even think about getting offended.

you can't bring yourself to take a step forwards and when one becomes unresponsive, the overthinker thinks over and over again.

"i am sorry." dazai slowly begins as he takes a step towards you, "was i being too mean? did i scare you?" dazai asked as he continued to walk towards you and when he stood infront of you, you raised your eyes to look at him as if you are hypnotized.

dazai runs a hand through his hair before he leaned down to kiss your forehead and he stayed there to whisper, "i am sorry darling. please forgive me?"

"do you always apologise this sweetly?" you ask as you smile at him to let him know you don't hold his words or action against him and that he can stop overthinking because most geniuses overthink and this is a disease.

"i don't even apologise much." dazai snickers as he grabs your wrist, taking a step backwards so you would be forced to take a step forwards.

"then why me?" you ask as you continue to smile and relish in the feeling of his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist in such a gentle manner, it made you feel as if you are made of fragile glass.

"because . . ." dazai began as he stopped walking and freed your wrists from his grip. instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist and clasped them around your back, letting his clasped hands rest dangerously near your butt. "i don't want you of all people to hate me."

"but i can never hate you." you answer immediately as you understand his intentions and raise your arms to wrap it around his neck. dazai raised his eyebrows as he muttured a small, "why?"

"because i love you --" you abruptly stop speaking and quickly try to save yourself from your self impaled fear of being rejected, "-- your company. i love your company."

you look up at him as you nervously smile and hope he didn't catch on your lie but is he dazai osamu if he doesn't notice the smallest shift in someone's muscles or the change in their tone?

dazai doesn't speak though. he smiled as he pulled you closer to him, you pursed your lips as you felt his hands grab your ass but when you looked at him, he looked so nonchalant that you felt maybe you are overreacting due to overdosing on the ecstacy of him holding you in such a way.

you barely registered the wink he threw in your direction before he pulled you even closer and gently began to move your body along with his as he hummed, making you sway to the rhythm of his hums.

"many people tell me my company is valuable. what makes you any different?" dazai tried to provoke you as his hands came to rest on your hip and he used your hips to guide you to move in the same direction as him as he noticed your stiff movements.

"because i am funnier?" you say in a confusion as you are unsure yourself on what would make you different from others.

"that's a shit excuse.'" dazai snickered before he winced a bit as you pinched his shoulder and in return, he turned you around using your hips and pressed himself against you,

"but if it's from you, it's the best shit excuse i've heard." dazai leaned down to whisper and you snicker as you look at him over your shoulder with a amused smile.

"if you are trying to be romantic then sorry to say but romance isn't for you." you tease as you feel your chest flutter when he pushed himself closer to you and you could feel his length against your ass and thigh.

dazai leaned down near your ears to reply back while at the same time he wrapped his arms around your lower stomach to pull you back towards him, making you two press against each other even more and he spoke only after he heard and smiled at the quiet gasp you released, "you want to talk about romance with me? you'll never find a guy as romantic as me."

"everyone knows you aren't romantic osamu." you quietly reply back as you take a shaky breath while his fingers teasingly tapped and trailed up and down your stomach.

"i can be for you darling." dazai muttered as he rested his chin against your shoulder and you scoffed in amusement, "why?"

"because i love you --" dazai smirked as you cursed him under your breath for mocking you, "-- your company. i love your company darling."

"very funny." you grit your teeth as you try to move away from him but dazai's tight grip doesn't let you and rather, your movements of trying to get free makes your ass brush and bump against his length and it was when he released a low shaky breath, that you stopped and widened your eyes a bit.

"fuck no, don't stop please." dazai murmured and grabbed your hips again to move them and hid his face against your shoulders at the nimble pleasure your soft grinding is providing him with.

". . . osamu?"

"yeah?" dazai whispered out. the temptation dressed as you stopped and turned to look at him, smiling seductively and he gulped.

"you are like a breath of fresh air that burns my lungs bec --" you stop as he thrusted forwards towards you, leaning your head back on his shoulder, you turned your face towards his ear (as his face was still hidden against your shoulder) and you whisper out, " --because i love you."

dazai felt himself stopping momentarily as your words repeated in his mind and with a unstable tone, dazai asked, "can you repeat that again?"

you tightly close your eyes as it feels as if repeating your words a second time is harder then when you had first spoken them but with a lot of efforts and courage, you do nevertheless, "i love you osamu."

your words hang in air and the impact of them makes your heart sink as you felt your throat tightening when your mind immediately assumed the worst.

it's over now, the change is in motion and things will never be like what they were before between the two of you.

dazai raised his head and gripped your hips tightly, turning you to face him once again as he stared at you, "repeat it again." he rasped out.

he took a step towards temptation dressed in you and you extended your arm for him to grasp.

". . . i love you." you whisper for with every minute, his voice grows strained while yours grow weaker.

dazai blinked, a faint pink blush began to coat his cheeks as he stared at you and seeing the man look so flustured and out of his usual element or arrogance gave you a temporary confidence boost.

you took a step near him, your body pressing against his as you slowly cup his jaw and rub your thumb on the underside of his jaw. you look down as you can't look at him but repeat yourself for the last time, "i said i love you, will you please give me an answer?"

you speak with a tone of urgency in your voice but dazai's lips were sealed and his ability to talk was stolen. to understand dazai's current situation better, one should think of what they desire the most and then imagine they are slowly working towards achieving it but then suddenly one day, due to random course of events, the thing they desire the most is infront of them and waiting to be claimed.

it feels surreal and confusing and dazai wonders if this is one of his daydreams which just looks super real so would his subconscious laugh at him if he made any moves under the influence of joy?

you begin to feel cold dread and it's tentacles slither up your legs and wrap around your thighs, making your knees go slightly shaky at the sudden amount of weight kept on it but you try once again to speak your feelings out and get an answer.

because sure, rejection may hurt but it doesn't hurt as much as being left in confusion without even getting a definite answer.

the temptation dressed as you smiles as dazai grabs your hand and pulls you closer to him before he leaned down to kiss you.

"i said i love you osa --" your words stopped, caught on the edge of your tongue when dazai seemed to suddenly wake up from whatever confused trance he was in, he leaned down to press his lips against your's while he raised one hand to cup your's (which was on his jaw).

you stood motionless for a few seconds as he just stood with his lips pressed against yours incase you wanted to pull back but when you did not, he took a step ahead by beginning to slowly move his lips against your's and this snapped you out as your grip on his jaw tightened, pulling him closer.

you feel dazai's hand grab your ass as he pulls you even closer to him while he tilted his head to be able to kiss you better, parting his lips to pull at your bottom lip. your grip on his jaw tightens while you part your lips for him and feel his tongue entering inside.

your other hand slithered down to rest above his crotch as you slipped it inside his t-shirt and began to rub your thumb over his slightly toned stomach, making him shiver as he felt sensitive.

dazai pressed his lips even harder against your's as he licked at your tongue before he gathered some saliva and spitted into your mouth. the action definitely took you by surprise as you loudly gasped.

dazai pulled back to look at you with a grin as he licked the saliva on his lips while you panted before moving your (which was still inside his t-shirt) hand downwards and slipping it inside his sweatpants. your other hand left his jaw to wipe the saliva dripping down the ends of your lips and down your chin but dazai stopped you by grabbing your wrist.

"wanna see something fucking dirty darling?" dazai whispered as he leaned near you, you nodded. you watched as dazai maintained eye contact with you while leaning down and parting his lips, licking the saliva dripping down before he tilted his head down to suck at your jaw and at the same time squeezed your ass.

"dirty osamu, you are so disgusting." you breath out as you whimper, the action of his making your core drip wet and dazai snickered as he nodded his head in agreement, tilting his head back to look at you again with a smug grin to which you replied by squeezing his dick through his boxers.

"you are the dirty one -- stop it darling." dazai hissed out and you did it again, rubbing your palm against his length.

"you are playing with fire right now." dazai hissed again yet you once again squeezed his dick as you smiled innocently at him, "but osamu. i'm not even doing anything."

dazai scoffed as he looked down at you while you squeezed his length again and again and again till he groaned. dazai's hand tapped on your ass while the other gripped your hip and he lifted you up a bit as he made you wrap your legs around his waist.

he turned around to walk towards his bed while carrying you.

"you have been tempting me a bit too much darling. thinking i will let you do as you please." dazai whispered with desire being thick in his tone, the low and seductive tone making that apparent.

you look at him as you bite your lips, the raindrops hitting the pavement outside making it more harder for you to think of anything else other then the obvious route the (approaching) night will play at.

"have i?" you whisper up and dazai hummed, cocking his eyebrow before he made you lay down on your back, pressing his semi hardened dick against the inside of your thigh and the feeling of it, the obvious pain he is going through due to having to restrict himself from acting on his urges and desires, you felt it all.

"definitely. i never felt so pathetic." dazai snickered before he leaned down more to whisper in your ear, "my fist felt so pathetic while i was trying to chase my high. isn't it enough to be on my mind during the day that you won't let me rest even at night?"

your breath hitched at his words though a wave of euphoria traveled from your feet and all the way to your heart at this revelation.

"then why did you never do anything about it? were you scared?" you softly scoff.

dazai's slender fingers slithered down your sides till they rested at the edge of the t-shirt you are wearing ; his which his sister had borrowed once and never returned as she claimed it to be the perfect oversized shirt to sleep in. curling his fingers, he lifted the t-shirt up slowly to reveal your skin to him. he looks at you for a few seconds to watch you staring at him with anticipation and with a small smile, he leaned down.

"you don't know how scared i was." dazai muttured against the skin of your stomach and planted a peck, your breath was once again stolen from your windpipe as you let out a shaky sigh, "what if you rejected me? it would've been so awkward between us after this. how could i live without seeing your preety face and without hearing your preety voice call my name?"

dazai muttured again and the impact of his words along with his lips moving along your stomach, kissing it and letting his tongue out every few seconds to lick your skin to tease you ; it had you being a withering mess underneath him.

"rejected? you love me?" you ask with wide eyes and watch as dazai hums against your skin.

"more then you can comprehend though i didn't know if you felt the same or not." he nibbled lightly on your skin while humping against your inner thigh.

"were my lovesick puppy eyes not obvious?" you ask with a smile as you find this situation to be entertaining, you grabbed the hair on the back of dazai's head to pull him towards you, bringing his face closer to your's for a kiss as you gently cupped his jaw.

"you look so cute all the time, how was i supposed to find a difference?" dazai smiled, laughing when you tried to raise your knee to knee him on the stomach, he immediately grabbed your knee and wrapped it around his waist while he leaned down to kiss you.

it happened somewhere in the kiss that dazai's fingers slipped down to remove your pajamas (which were not really your's but his sister's) and he rubbed his knuckles in circular movements against your clothed clit to enjoy the sound of you whining and shuddering as his lips still stayed connected to your's. he then went on to hook his finger under the waistband of your panties and remove it too, separating his lips from your's despite a weak beg from you not to and he looked at the wetness that stayed on your panties.

he swiped the pad of his thumb to gather some on his thumb and raised it near your lips but you scrunched your nose as you looked at him, "ew no. i am not tasting this."

"you are seriously no fun." dazai pouted and teased, bringing his thumb near his own lips as he kitty licked your wetness while not breaking off his eye contact with you and this sight made you want to clench your legs but he immediately placed his leg between your thighs.

"you are a disgusting man osamu." you huff out as you look down at his leg which refused to bulge, you looked at him again and by the way he smiled smugly, you knew he would go hours and hours to tease you.

"told ya, i am a dirty man." dazai smirked and looked down to catch your eager hands from undressing him, smiling when you whined. "so impatient, aren't you darling?"

he tsked when he saw that despite him grabbing your wrists, you tried to get your eager hands on the waistline of his sweatpants to tug it down. dazai raised his eyes to stare at you again, smiling at the way you immediately stopped clawing upon seeing him look at you with raised eyebrows, as if you are embarrassed or shy.

"you know how i don't have the ability to tell no to you? so why not try asking me nicely for what you want?"

"why don't you tell me what you want?" you throw his words back at him with the intentions of getting an answer to your still unanswered confession.

"you."

"you have to be more specific osamu." you tell as you lean your head up a bit, he stopped gripping your wrists and so you leaned on your elbows.

"how?"

"i don't know. perhaps by giving me an answer for my confession? do you know how hard it was to confess? and you aren't even giving me am answer. shit. i feel like i'll die of a heartattack . . . why are you looking at me like that?" your complaints come to a stop as you grow shy under his soft stare and dazai tilted his head, his lips curling into a smile.

"like what?"

". . . like you always do." is all you tell for you cannot grasp this look he gives you. it looks so soft and he looks calm yet the gaze is so intense it makes you shy.

". . . and? does it not ring any bells?" dazai raised his eyebrows and watched you furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you stare at him in disbelief before it turned to you pondering and then you finally realised.

you realised how you always looked past his unspoken and silent confession.

"exactly." dazai nodded. he leaned down to kiss your chin and then went down from there. "i love you. loved you since a long time, oblivious little darling."

he muttured as dazai removed his leg from between your thighs and grabbed one of them instead as he gripped it, squeezing the fat.

dazai looked up once his kisses traveled till your chest and smiled as he blushed a bit for words so sincere were something dazai is a sucker for and these sincere words only come to the tip of his tongue when his eyes land on you, "i love you."

you got your answer. your body relaxed as your head fell back on the pillow and you closed your eyes while you calmed down, feeling as if the nervous and anxious feelings in you were for no reason. you feel lightheaded now that the weight of anticipation was lifted.

dazai's lithe fingers slipped under your t-shirt while he kissed your collarbones and left open mouthed kisses, his fingers traveled up and he used his other hand (still gripping your thigh) to tap on your thigh as he looked up at you and you got the hint, lifted your upper body up a bit for him to have access to remove your bra.

dazai gripped and pulled your bra along as he pulled his hand out of your t-shirt.

your legs tried to close when dazai kissed your breast over your t-shirt before he parted his lips to encircle them around your clothed nipple, licking at it. his hand on your twitching thigh stopped it from closing as he wanted you to feel how he gets you wet and how your hole sucks in air in anticipation.

"osamu." you moan out his name as he nibbled very lightly at your nipple though once he heard you calling him, he raised his eyes to look up and once he saw your bothered face, he grinned. without having to exchange any words, dazai's hand left your thigh, light pink prints of his fingers displayed on your skin.

he rubs his thumbs across your inner labia to feel your wetness before he inserted his index finger into your hole which sucked his finger eagerly.

dazai pushed his head to lick at your other breast before he looked up and spoke, each word of his was accompanied by a thrust of his fingers, "sorry darling but you are a little girl. don't think you are ready yet for me."

"a-asshole." you spat out with great difficulty as he added a second finger and scissored you to loosen you a bit, both of his fingers pulled out before he thrusted them inside again and he pulled them out again. he added a third finger and watched your walls squeeze his fingers making him nibble on your perked nipple as he watched the wet patch on the t-shirt where your breasts are.

"you are the one who's an asshole darling." dazai snickered as he raised himself and leaned on his elbow, looking down at your greedy hole now sucking in three of his fingers and he looked up, seeing you about to reply and so, he added a fourth finger and watched as you let out a cry and closed your eyes immediately.

"i mean, look at you. imagine if my sister came home to see her close friend spreading her legs for her older brother." dazai mocked you as his fingers sped up, the sound of his palm hitting against your ass and the wet sound produced every time he thrusted his fingers inside.

dazai watches as you brought your legs closer to yourself and tried to close them but he used his knee to pin one of your legs to the mattress and this position enabled his fingers to reach even deeper.

his middle finger touched that one spot and you moaned loudly to which he thrusted his fingers again and this time, two of his fingers brushed against that spot. dazai looked at you to see your chest heaving up and down and pulled his fingers out. immediately watching your body twitching due to being denied of the on-growing pleasure. he looked at his glistening hand covered with your slick and sighed out lowly.

you frowned and raised your head and watched dazai sit back as he fumbled with the knot on his sweatpants, raising himself on his knees to push his sweatpants and boxers down.

"come here darling." dazai told but didn't look at you as he pushed his boxers down, his dick springing up and hitting against his abdomen. he grabbed his t-shirt and raised it over his chest, grabbing the cloth with his teeth as he rubbed his hand covered with your slick on his length as a natural lube.

he looked at you again and you shakily leaned up on your elbows before crawling towards him a bit as you looked up at him, he leaned closer and grabbed your hands, wrapping it around his waist while he used his hand to grab his dick and brush it past your stomach and down your thighs to let the slick and precum on him get smeared on your skin.

"osamu please." you whisper as you lean up to peck his adam's apple and dazai immediately pushed you down, grabbing your legs and parting them open. his hands left your legs to grab his dick and position it at your entrance.

"i love you." he whispered before he inserted himself inside and the prepping from before had no use as you remained tight and he cursed before he slowly thrusted deeper and deeper.

"osamu." you let out a breathy moan as you feel him pierce your walls as he tries to go in deeper and deeper and dazai hummed as he closed his eyes, eyebrows furrowed.

"please let me darling. i don't know when i'll be able to say this to you the next time without feeling scared so let me tell it all i want right now." he rasped out in a throaty tone and you nodded.

dazai didn't speak anything till he was bottomed out in you. after which he grabbed your waist with both of his hands and raised himself on his knees and told you to part your legs.

"i love you." dazai confessed again as he looked at you and slowly began to thrust in and out, his length penetrating your walls.

dazai grabbed your hips instead to lift you up and began to quicken his pace and soon felt his dick rub against your g-spot. your legs shook and he raised one of them towards his waist to make you wrap it around him and yet you wrapped both of your legs around his small waist to give him more angle to thrust in, this new angle provided him more access and his dick touched your cervix as he thrusted.

dazai raised your t-shirt up to your collarbones to be able to watch your breasts bounce with his thrusts, a bandaged hand coming up to fondle with one of your breasts as he tilted his head back.

"i love you." he repeated himself as he leaned down to press his chest against your's, burying his face against the crook of your neck and he muttered out, "i love you. fuck i love you. i love you."

its important for us to know that every word of his was accompanied by a peck on the skin of your neck, below your jaw.

dazai's thrusts sped up, bullying and abusing not only your g-spot but also continuously hitting your g-spot and you wrapped your legs even more tightly around his waist when you felt your orgasm approaching.

dazai squeezed your breast, the fat spilling from between his fingers and he shuddered, using his other hand to grab your ass and push you up to push his dick even more deeper into you. your ankle hooked around one another as you let out small whines and cries of pleasure.

dazai hissed as he thrusted into you again, watching you crumble beneath him as you cum, your body shaking as you do so and he thrusts again and again to help you ride out your orgasm.

after which he leans his head up to look at you with a tired smile but gasped instead when you tried to move yourself on his dick. you looked at him when you heard him gasp and panted out, "it's not fair osamu. i wanna watch your fucked out expression. i want to make you feel good. i want . . . to be the cause of your happiness for once."

"for once?" dazai laughed as he thrusted into you again as he lowered you and himself on top of you so that now you both laid on the bed with a pillar of comfort hiding you two and your act. "you make me want to laugh at midnight due to joy. joy i feel whenever you pop up in my thoughts."

dazai told and his hands left your hip and breast to cup your jaw with both hands as he slowly yet deeply thrusted into you.

"a man dreams. dreams make a man. you are my dream." dazai muttered softly and closed his eyes and he thrusted again before letting out a loud moan. thick ropes of white sprouted out of his dick and coated your walls and you felt your walls clamping around him again as it happened, your body shaking as you came for a second time.

his body relaxed immediately as the pent up pleasure was released and dazai slowly rested his body on top of your's, grasping your hand as he brought it closer to his lips to kiss the back of your hand. "i love you."

and when you smiled, the hair on his nape stood up while he closed his eyes, smiling back shyly as he hid his face against your neck again as if bowing and he repeated, "i love you darling."

[anne-bsd-bibliophile]

Retrogression by Dazai Osamu

Translated by A. L. Raye

"He was not an old man. He was only around 25 years old, but at the same time he was, undoubtedly, an old man. For every year that a normal person lived, this old man lived it three times over." - Dazai Osamu, "Retrogression"

"And so, through Dazai’s own efforts, I hope that a day will come to pass where Dazai’s work will be instinctively understood by a great many people." - Satō Haruo, "A Respectable Yet Tormented Soul: Regarding Dazai Osamu"

"Having been metaphorically torn apart by his critics, every time he finished writing anything - anything at all - regardless of public opinion, the wounds of his humiliation would ache more and more, so keenly and so painfully, that the unfulfilled hollow in his heart spread further and deeper until finally, he died. He was deceived by the illusion of a masterpiece, enchanted by an eternal beauty, carried away by a fever cream and ultimately couldn't even save himself..." - Dazai Osamu, "Retrogression"

"I’ll stab him! I thought. What an absolute scoundrel! It didn’t take long however before I suddenly felt the hot and twisted love you bore towards me, an intense love which reminded me of Nellie from Dostoyevsky’s Humiliated and Insulted, a love that I felt deep within my heart. No. No, how could this be? I couldn’t believe it, I shook my head but that love of yours, concealed behind that cold exterior, felt Dostoyevskian in its deranged passion and made my body burn feverishly at the thought. And of course, you were completely unaware of any of this." - Dazai Osamu, "Letter to Kawabata Yasunari"

"Don’t say behind someone’s back what you can’t say to their face. I followed this principle and for that I was thrown into the looney bin." - Dazai Osamu, "Human Lost"

"Somebody put a live snake in my letterbox. I’m furious! This must be the work of someone who enjoys making fun of unpopular writers who feel the need to check their letterboxes twenty times a day. I was in a strange mood after that, and spent the rest of the day in bed." - Dazai Osamu, "Diary of My Distress"

"I’m jumping at shadows. I feel like my body has been ground up and picked clean, right down to the bone." - Dazai Osamu, "Human Lost"

"It wasn’t supposed to be this way. It really wasn’t supposed to be this way. You of all people should be clearly aware that being a writer exists within a perpetual state of ‘foolishness’." - Dazai Osamu, "Letter to Kawabata Yasunari"

"The cicada realised in the afternoon that it was going to die soon. Ah, it would have been better if I had been happier! I should have fooled around more, with nary a care in the world. Oh, do forgive me, I just wish to fall asleep among the flowers." - Dazai Osamu, "Human Lost"

"He has the kind of romantic spirit of a selfish, good-for-nothing wastrel, but more than that, he has let this seep deep down into the very marrow of his being. The uninhibited yet fragile self flows out of control, and it is the lot in life of this particular variety of man to continually contemplate himself until his self-awareness becomes intertwined with his bones." - Satō Haruo, "A Respectable Yet Tormented Soul: Regarding Dazai Osamu"

"Now, within the limits I have allowed myself, I believe I have accomplished everything I set out to do. As for the rest, I calmly entrust myself to fate." - Dazai Osamu, "January Letter to Satō Haruo from Dazai Osamu"

From the Introduction by translator A. L. Raye:

"This book aims to piece together the fractured and disorderly lifestyle of one of history's greatest romantics and pairs it with a particular moment in his life; losing the Akutagawa Prize. The ensuing drama that unfolded through private letters, newspaper articles, diaries, obituaries, and fiction created a scandal that disturbed the early Showa literati with its coarse and indecent honesty. Dazai's fiction, fiction about Dazai, speculation and reality intertwined to create an explosive event that not only changed the desired trajectory of his life but also raised issues of discrimination within prominent literary circles and the treatment of mental illness in 1930s Japan."

"If we encounter Dazai without taking into account modern ideas of disability, there is a danger we might subject him to the same myth-making mindset that surrounds Van Gough; that of a tortured genius who needed to suffer for his art - or, perhaps more accurately, for our entertainment."

"Dazai was a complicated man, a man who couldn't even decide for himself who he was."

Retrogression also includes annotations and background information on every story, letter, diary, and eulogy, adding history and insights that are difficult to find available in other English translations so far.

You can find more information and free translations on Yobanashi Café. Retrogression is available for purchase in either paperback or eBook format on Amazon.