#beastzai x y/n

[lacunazai]

beast dazai who can't physically keep his hands off you. he has to be touching you at all times, his fingers on your skin and his palms against your clothing. he tells you, "it's dangerous out of my sight." he lies, "it's for your own safety, stay with me." and by the flush on his cheeks and that look of pure desperation in his eyes, he's selfish. and you're his.

[irasamu]

waking up in a penthouse to find out you are married to the fucking port mafia boss is one thing. finding out you are in a parallel universe and said mafia husband is using everything in his power to make sure you can't go back is another.

yandere!beastzai loves you. he will give you everything you ask for except that silly little wish of going back. you are his wife. don't you know your place is next to him and not universes away?

[catsamu]

beast dazai who's so fucking desperate. he presses your thighs together and settles to sliding his dick between them at first - you can feel only the mildest friction against your clit, and it drives you insane. you need more, you demand more. he cums on your tummy at first, panting heavily and barely giving himself a chance to regain stamina before he slides into you. it stings, almost. his balls are so tight, his tip almost stings. but that doesn't stop him from rutting into you like an animal, not at all.

the sounds coming out of him are downright sinful, broken whines and echoes of your name that spill without him wanting them to. he's trembling all over when he pushes into you and orgasms for a second time. his eyes teary and his mind so foggy. but fuck, do you feel good. and he'd be damned if he's stopping here.

[hopelessdazai]

✿ 》I'll have you muzzled and caged, ill put you right in your place, you want it.

╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; this was in my drafts for a period . I actually finished it tho so be proud of me ( reblogs appreciated !!! )

╰⧼ ☀️ features.. ⧽ ; beast dazai x gn!reader x beast chuuya ( reader is afab but only a cunt is mentioned ) WC : 1.5k

╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; smut, petplay, buttplug (but it isnt used), handcuffs, chuuya is soft and dazais a little of a dick, it kinda gets right into it so be warned, actual smut begins after the divider.

“..puppy ears?”

the velvet headband was clutched between your fingers. a gift box on the table in front of you from the boss of the Port mafia. Dazai, your personal trainer. He didn't reply at first, simply smiling down at you - before stepping beside you and taking a layer of crinkled tissue paper off.

“There's a tail in there too.”

and that there was. your eyes caught specifically on the glint of a metal plug on one end. He would pull a stunt like this, you thought. to the side was a bone gag, a crystal white with a pink ribbon to tie around your head. shit, and there's matching handcuffs? How much was in here? You look up at him for a moment, your mind reeling.

he'd said you worked like a dog before this, but wasn't this a little self indulgent?

“..is this a joke?” You look up at him. wishing for some resemblance he was holding back a laugh. hoping this was some gag to mock you, that you don't have to actually wear these things. but there was nothing but a smile.

“a joke? I don't think so.” he hummed, taking the headband out of your hands and gently placing it into your hair. “I picked colours that would suit you, you know? it'd be a shame if you were to waste my money and not make use of them.”

you scoff, picking out the tail and holding it idly in your hands. It was soft. nothing you would've been into, nor what you'd wear for your boss when you're in the damn mafia. and for a moment you found yourself wondering if quitting without a notice was allowed here.

“I can help you put everything on.”

a laugh escapes your throat, one which you couldn't stop the bubble from popping. He had to be kidding, there was just no way someone like him had the nerve.

But he wasn't laughing, he wasn't even smiling anymore.

shit, he was serious.

“I discussed it with chuuya beforehand,” He begins, walking around the desk to sit himself down, one leg crossing over the other. “He wishes to see you in the getup too, if you don't mind.”

“This wasn't in my contract.” You frown, placing the tail on the table - the plug end making a small clatter. “When i signed up to work here, there wasn't anywhere that said I needed to prance around in sex wear.”

“Did you not read the fine print?”

there was a fine print?

you hesitate, shaking your head. “I don't see how that matters. this has to be some human rights thing ..” your voice trails as the door to the office opens, familiar ginger hair in your peripheral vision as he strolls over to stand beside you, giving you a smile. you smile back.

“Chuuya, it seems we're having some obedience problems..” Dazai begins, his hands coming to rest in his lap. “the outfit we so carefully chose for them, they refuse to wear. isn't that cruel?..”

You glance at Chuuya, and he looks back for a moment. no words are shared. but there's a mutual understanding of why you might be hesitant - a human response.

Dazai continues, “You've always spoken about wanting a dog, haven't you, chuuya? and you've certainly spoken more than once about wishing how (name) was with us during our sessions.”

Chuuya chokes on his spit, there's a strange silence afterwards.

“..I suppose.” He mumbles, crossing his arms and looking away from the both of you. Dazai stands up, walking around the desk to where you are. His hand rummages in the box for a moment, taking out a collar and clipping it around your neck.

“It suits them. don't you think, chuuya?”

he turns to look at you, mumbling something under his breath as he steps forward to twist the collar to suit your neck better. you mentally thank the fact you're stuck between two people who even each other out, at the least.

Chuuya gently pulls you close by the waist, holding your hands behind your back as he nuzzles himself into the crook of your neck. you feel dazai clip the handcuffs around your wrist, all happens without a word spoken.

The gingers lips encase a small area of your neck, gently sucking as you let out a light whine. you feel dazai slip closer behind you, his hands on your hips and an unmistakable bulge pressed against the curve of your ass.

shit, what have you gotten yourself into?

you would've done more if your hands weren't tied, and if you could do anything but let out a guttural moan as chuuya's tongue collected the slick off your cunt, you're sure you would've asked them to be gentle.

you blinked a hazy eye open, met with dazai's tip smearing precum against your cheek. a smirk on those lying lips of his. bastard. the clasp from the bone gag in your mouth clicked open, dropping to the floor with a thud. It almost made you flinch.

“Now, do you promise to behave?” The brunette hummed, his voice an almost patronising sing-song tone. You felt Chuuya grip your hips from behind, pulling you back onto his face. it prevented you from having any response but a whine. Dazai simply scoffed, slapping your cheek before forcing your lips apart with his thumb ; resting it on your molars. your drool escaping the side of your mouth.

“I expect a response when I speak to you.”

you did try, but with chuuyas tongue deep inside you and with dazai's thumb in your mouth, you could barely even think straight, let alone make any stupid promises.

“you're giving me the silent treatment, hm?.. bad dog ..”

you let out a whine, shortly cut off as the back of your throat was blocked by Dazai's cock. your nose pressed against the bush of pubes he hadn't even bothered to shave. He stayed deep as you gagged and your throat closed around him, your eyes tearing up.

“there we are..” He muttered, gripping the back of your head behind your faux puppy ears, forcing you to take his cock into your mouth as he practically used you as a human fleshlight. you could barely even let out any sound, your airflow practically fully cut off as your throat was rammed full.

chuuya’s thumb swiped your clit, rolling gentle circles that contrasted the brutal pace dazai used your throat in. it was just too much, letting out sounds you didn't even know you were capable of making. drool glossing your lips as tears run down your cheeks. your mascara had to be ruined.

“hah- look at you. pretty little thing .. the sounds you're making now ..” Dazai whispered, a low rumble of a chuckle leaving his throat. “It’s the smartest I've ever heard you be, you know?.. keep making noise for me, just like that..”

the rustle of fabric behind you as chuuya laid himself down under you, gently rubbing circles on your ass as your thighs shake from keeping yourself up.

“sit down f'me. be a good pup.” you hear him mumble. and you can feel his temper grow as you hesitate, dazai tugging on your hair hard enough for you to look up at him, eyes glazed over from tears.

“You were given an order, were you not? sit. down.” you gradually obey, feeling chuuyas mouth enveloping your wet cunt again.

it's too much, everything is too much. dazai’s pace on your throat increases, the gasps leaving his throat become louder. as do the shaky grunts against your clit as chuuya makes lewd slurping sounds, obviously to provoke the room further. you can barely even fucking breathe, the knot in your stomach is so tight. so close.

“swallow.” Dazai mumbles, letting out an involuntary whimper as he buries himself deep in your throat, the bitter taste of his cum of which you had no choice but to swallow down. and you swear you might drown in it, almost blacking out as you cum on chuuyas tongue.

everything is quiet for a while, save for the sound of heavy panting coming from both you and dazai. chuuya crawls out from under you, wiping his mouth from your fluids and leaning back slightly. you can see the wet patch on his slacks, he came untouched from taste alone?

“That's better..” dazai mumbles, pulling his cock out of your mouth and letting go of your hair, not sparing a shred of sympathy as your front half hits the ground. your body stings, the exhaustion hurts. you can't process anything other than chuuyas warmth as he gently tugs you into his lap, your head to his chest with his hand running through your hair.

he's always been gentle with you, anyway.

“well, I think that was a rather productive usage of our time, no? wouldn't you agree, chuuya?” dazai looked down at the pair of you, a smile on his lips. You couldn't speak, your throat hurt. But chuuya pressed a gentle kiss to your temple and nodded.

“I certainly enjoyed it.”

[raimoka]

— " (I'M) WAITING FOR THE SUN "

｡ ㅤꕤ ㅤ PAIRING: dazai osamu & reader.

SYNOPSIS: it was just a single string, so thin it could easily be cut with scissors, however, with just that mere red thread, it tied you to him.

tags ➜ alternate universe — modern, no abilities, painter!reader, writer!dazai dreams, pining, generally a fluff, soulmates trope, catching feelings, open ending, named reader — only last name though, dazai osamu is bad with feelings implication. ‹𝟹

⋆ author's notes: I wanted to try something new and the first thing that came in my mind was soulmates trope.

send an order!! → guide ❀ flowers ←

You have always been a dreamer.

Oftentimes you would drift away from your surroundings into an imaginary world, your sense of reality blurring away.

In that world you would feel relaxed, happy and at peace even if it's for merely a few minutes. A world where you could erase everyday from your mind and form an illusion of something you were unable to grasp, a world filled with colors and beauty.

It's bittersweet.

And although it's painful knowing these are nothing more but surreal fantasies, hopes and dreams it's worth it in the end.

However—as of late, your daydreams changed into a one singular daydream that, for whatever reason, keeps replaying in your mind like a broken record.

Day or night, in the painting room or in the peace of your room, whenever you close your eyes, be it a ten minute nap or eight hours of sleep the same scenario will play in front of your eyes over and over again.

Sun will shine its way through the grass as your fingers brush against your creamy white lace dress. Birds will sing their song to which you'll hum under your breath as the fruity smell of just bloomed flowers lingers in the air.

You'll sing and dance and laugh as if you're the only one in the world.

Then after a while you'll approach a big cherry tree in bloom, and suddenly you won't be alone anymore. There, in front of that very tree, will stand a person with chocolate colored brown hair carried by the wind, wearing a white button up shirt along with black trousers.

They'll look in the distance, seemingly unfazed and each time and even after twenty times you've seen the ending, you would approach them slowly when—as if on cue the person will turn around and you would freeze up at your spot, your heart skipping a beat because in front of you will stand the most beautiful human you have ever encountered. For a moment, they'll lock eyes before they vanish into the air, leaving no trace behind.

Then you'll twitch, snapping back to reality.

bleary and cloudy, immense hues of darkness lay hold of your sight, then as the starch gradually settles to the bottom and the skim rises to the top, at last your eyes wearily open—unable to remember his face.

It's as if when their eyes lock everything fades and your brain stops. It's weird and the more times it happens the more annoying it gets.

The person in your dreams feels familiar yet so out of reach. Like you've known them your entire life but hasn't even met them yet, as if the two of you were tied by a red thread of fate.

His presence is strong. Unique. Strange.

You can remember the way the smell of carnations surrounded him, the way his chocolate colored brown hair rode on the breeze, the way they were so tall you almost felt embarrassed standing near him but you can't, for the love of god, remember their face.

You feel their stare on your face. You know that your eyes lock each time and that each time they do your heart skips a beat. You know it and yet you can't pinpoint even the most obvious things, like their color.

You want to know more and everytime that you feel like you're getting closer to discovering something, you would get pulled out of the state of unconsciousness, snapping you back into reality.

It was as if it was mocking you, laughing at the anger it was giving you.

Your eyebrows knitted together, hands balling into a fist.

You ha—

The sound of wood splitting in half brought you back into reality, disrupting the scrambles of thoughts beginning to form within your mind.

huh ?

You lift your head, met with the sight of your paintbrush splitted into two. The other half of the paintbrush falls, accompanied with the sound of thud.

Your lips, which were previously formed into a thin line, parted.

"nazoki, did you just break your brush?"

you tense up. you feel everyone's eyes shift to your frame, hushed whispers accompanied with snickers filling the room. sweat builds up on your hands as the giggles continued, and you bit down on your lip, hovering your gaze on your thighs.

"It can be easily fixed but remember, that's not your own and you need to learn how to be careful with the brushes."

meekly, you dipped your head in response.

"yes ma'am..."

❀

It was already late when you arrived back home.

The sun had gone down, and the skies embraced by hues of warm colors had turned into vast of blackness already.

You didn't change out of your clothes, with the fatigue beginning to overtake your body, you didn't bother to do so.

You gently unlocked the door to your room and slipped inside.

you were greeted with pure abyss, which was anticipated since it was already night. however, there was still some disinctive things within the shadows, like the books sheltered on the shelves, the roses in the vase on the nightstand, and the paintings in the corner of your room.

you perk up.

you moved, walking towards to the empty canvas at the corner of your room.

In front of you, you laid down an empty white canvas and some newly bought paint from few days ago. without a second thought you started painting. You didn't know what you were going for just yet but you settled on just letting your hand move freely across the canvas.

One stroke then another—you paint sky, petals and a silhouette.

So far it's turning pretty decent but the more you draw the more anxious you became. The brush in your hand starts shaking as you reached out to paint the silhouette's face.

...

What now?

Cold sweat runs down your face and you had to take a moment to snap back to reality. Suddenly your stomach fills with dread and you had to take a break from painting.

The face. You couldn't remember the face.

You didn't finish the painting that day.

❀

There is no need for you to open your eyes because when you came to your own senses, feeling grass beneath your palms as the sun beams directly in your face, you knew exactly where you were.

Despite going to sleep in a bad mood you can't help but feel strangely relaxed now that you're here.

Slowly opening your eyes, you sit up and took a look around. Nothing, as far as you're aware, has changed. It's still the same dreamy place you visit everyday (sometimes even multiple times).

Birds are still singing, the sun is still shining and the flowers are still blooming.

After a short walk you find out the unknown person is also still here, simply staring at the distance.

You freeze in place and simply admires them from afar, staring at their back profile.

They stand there unbothered.

You take a big risk of walking up to them—not too close but not as far in an attempt to get a better view. Nothing.

You're scared.

Then you get a crazy idea.

Now you're terrified.

Quickly, before you get a chance to make a cowardly decision and back up, you ran towards the person and grabs their wrist, not giving them enough time to turn around.

First thing that you felt is warmth. Their skin is warm.

You lift your head head and meets their face that is now painted with a shocked expression, lips parted. When your eyes meet you felt fear, surprise, shock, happiness, anxiety all at once because you've finally caught them.

Then all emotions swirling within your chest dulls and the person slips away, disappearing from your grip once again.

❀

First thing, you did when you woke up is rush towards the canvas and frantically attempts to copy down the face, that expression of surprise and alarm, as similar as possible before eventually it too leaves your mind.

However it doesn't turn out anything like you've seen just a few moments prior. The expression on its own looks pretty amazing and the face is really unique, not quite like anything you've drawn before, but it's not his.

Shit.

Why? why couldn't you do it?

You were so close and yet—

You slipped up.

You didn't get it. You needed to remember. You didn't know why.

All you knew is that this person drives you crazy.

❀

Surrounding you, there was variety of pages of papers, canvas, multiple art supplies.

You pull out canvas after canvas messing up, repainting, scrapping, breaking, trying again, over and over again but nothing feels right.

Before long, what little memory of the person's face is left in your memory vanishes leaving you with an uneasy feeling in your chest. You fall to your knees, gripping the paintbrush in your palm firmly, cursing yourself. Why? Why couldn't you remember?

It continues like this for a while. After every nap you would pull out your sketchbook, which has by now found its new place under your pillow, and try to sketch the face but each and every time you'd be met with another failed attempt.

It felt like a curse of some sort. Wanting to remember but not being able to. Wanting to know but not being able to meet. Wanting to understand but not being able to learn.

You've tried many different ways. You tried jumping him. You tried running into him. You tried approaching him slowly. Sometimes you'd lock eyes with him, sometimes he'd disappear the moment they establish physical contact. You'd sketch day and night but you just couldn't nail it.

Slowly but noticeably a pile of crumpled up paper in your trash can started increasing. So far you've ruined three canvases and wasted almost an entire sketchbook which gave her an confrontation from your roommate, both from the trash and the one canvas you borrowed from her.

"If you need canvas, please just buy one for yourself. I'm gonna get scolded by my mother."

"the trash can in your room is starting to overflow with trash... some of the trash are even on the floor already, please dispose of them if you can. I don't know what you're trying to do but you should give it a little break, it doesn't seem like you're getting anywhere either way."

you've apologized multiple times for it, but in spite of her intentions being different, the painful truth behind her words pierces through your heart like an arrow. You weren't not getting anywhere that much is right but she's trying.

you were trying so hard because for the first time in a while you had a goal set in mind.

That night you didn't bother the guy. Instead, you sat down leaning on that big tree watching him stand just a few meters ahead of you.

You haven't given up of course but god you were tired. you sigh, releasing the tension in your body, closing your eyes beneath the tree's shadow.

You didn't know what you expected but someone snapping you out of your thoughts you sitting next to you was not it.

For a moment, you were too scared to look aside because this is a rare opportunity and you couldn't mess this up and yet at the same time you could wake up at any moment so if you were to waste this it would eat you up from inside for days. Anxiously, you moved your head and catches sight of the brown haired individual's side profile. It's the sight so dazzling you suck in your breath and bites your lip and just stares.

Every time you visit, you noticed a small detail you haven't before. Like how they shift from one leg to the other when the cold breeze brushes against their concealed arms, you wondered if it was really that cold for him, or how messy his hair was, you could've presumed he didn't take care of himself.

Today, you notice his eyes are shimmering brown, bright and full of life, no . they weren't full of life, they were filled with pure abyss, barely reflecting any source of tiny sparks. He was tired, lonely, and empty. You wondered how long they spent in this realm. Does he have a home? What's his story and how did he end up here? Just now after you take a good look at them, you started questioning all those things. Up until now all you knew was that they were here each time you fell asleep and that your face gets red and your heart skips a beat whenever you get near.

For the first time that you stared at them for more than two seconds, you started noticing all the little details. His bone structure, every single lash on his eye, even how messy his hair was. You take a mental note of it and stares for so long that you didn't even realize he might've feel awkward until they cough and move their face to the side, hiding their face a little bit further with the locks of his hair.

"I'm sorry."

You speak up slowly.

You wonder if he was even real.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Silence. Heavy, uncomfortable, cold, suffocating silence.

He gives her a side eye but don't say a word. You, not knowing how to react, just stares. You stare back, drowning in their eyes, not even realizing how close they've gotten to each other.

You have drawn many portraits of many different people up until this point in your life. The beauty of it all is that every person is different, unique and beautiful in their own way. Each painting you did is special because it's not like any other. That's, in your opinion, the beauty of this world. Even now, this person that might be nothing more than a fragment of your wild imagination is unlike any other you've met.

They are so beautiful it made you sick. Not just their physical appearance but their aura and their company. The way when their hands touch it sends an electric shock through your body or the way you get all warm and fuzzy inside when you were near him.

you swallowed down a thick saliva, forcing yourself to speak again, you didn't know what you were gonna say but with the tense atmosphere between the two of you, you wanted to ease it up, thus allowing the words in your throat to carry out.

"Hey."

The boy shifts his gaze towards you upon your call, moving his head along his gaze. You feel the hue of light red beginning to adorn your cheeks as soon he turns his head to your direction.

You fidgeted with your fingers, "You're a very pretty person."

You could feel his stare on you, but he didn't utter a single word.

"When I say pretty, I don't mean it just at that... you're so pretty that I could be with you all day just to watch the cherry blossom tree's bright pink light glow on your skin and how it brings out a million subtle sparks of color in your eyes, and In the evening, I could draw you all night long until I have no more strength, and when it's finally night with the moon, I could close my eyes to remember the day going by as a reflection of you."

as you spoke, you couldn't help but notice how close your faces were with just a few centimeters apart from each other. you two were so close, It distilled a warm fuzzy feeling within your chest.

"you're quite talkative."

for once within several dreams, he finally uttered a single word, and just the mere sound of his voice made you speechless. he leans his head slightly closer and you couldn't help but think that your faces will crash. you were sure your faces will crash and you're scared if they do the universe as we know will explode but the world collapses before you could get a chance to blink and suddenly you were panting in the pitch dark of an all too familiar room.

❀

They say everything comes with its good and bad sides so you presumed the same must go for this entire situation too.

If it were up to you, you'd say the good thing is you finally finished your painting. After so much time and effort you have finally created something you're satisfied with.

Bad, or rather unfortunate, thing is that the next time you went to sleep you didn't dream at all. At first you thought it was a mistake so you pulled her blanket over your frame and went to sleep again despite the morning sun desperately trying to climb on your bed through the closed windows and your roommate gently knocking on your door.

Nothing.

After a few more times of not being able to wake up in that imaginary world of yours, you started to freak out a little. It was understandable though. When you spend so much time somewhere, so much that it turns into a habit, it's only natural to get worried when it abruptly stops with no sign whatsoever.

For now you'll just have to learn to adjust to your new reality.

❀

It has been a year since you last dreamed of that dream.

you struggled to accept the truth, occasionally glancing at the painting you've finished right after your last dream. however, as time passed by, you managed to divert your attention to much more important things, slowly forgetting the world you would often dream off.

you didn't know whether you liked it or not but you supposed it was fine since a lot of great opportunities were beginning to appear to you.

"That's why nazoki-san, we would love to invite you as a guest artist for our next gallery showcase!" Words were ringing in your ears like an echo. There were thousands and one emotion flowing through her body. Excitement, joy, disbelief, anxiety and so much more.

Finally, It's finally happening. You couldn't help but think to yourself. All that hard work and effort is finally paying off.

When you got a call from a nearby gallery asking for someone with your last name, you presumed it was for your mother, a professional artist who had few of her works showcased there, that's why the first thing you felt when they said it's you they needed was confusion.

You've been drawing for years, joined many different art courses and took many drawing classes, participated in many events but getting an offer to have some of your work showcased in a big, professional and well-known gallery for one of their events was something new—a step closer to achieving your dream.

Of course, you didn't hesitate and swiftly agreed to the offer.

It's only when it came time to choose your best work you got a tad uncertain about which paintings to pick.

You decided to go for one landscape drawing, one abstract and one portrait.

Choosing a landscape and abstract was easy, you simply chose your most recent work, a work which, by chance, was seen by her classmates and some teachers and received tons of compliments.

Choosing a portrait was a bit harder though—there was just so much diversity between your models you'd feel bad choosing one out of many other, just as beautiful, ones.

You dig through the canvases in an attempt to find a perfect one when your hands suddenly brush against the beige fabric pulled over one of the canvases, hiding it from view.

A drop of cold sweat rolls down your neck as you uncover the familiar painting. It's still the same as you left it a year ago.

When your dreams stopped you felt as if you lost a part of yourself. Being unable to face the painting you worked so hard on, you ended up covering it up and leaving it to collect dust in the pile of canvases.

Even now when you looked at it, a part of you feels like sinking but the feeling of dread is easily outshined with the feeling of nostalgia and warmth.

you decided which portrait to bring to the event.

❀

More people have visited the event than you had originally planned, it was almost a bit overwhelming. Almost. All the praise you got made up for it.

You would be lying if you said you didn't like to be praised. You loved the words of affirmation, to hear someone from a higher level acknowledge her efforts and make sure you're on the right track.

You were silently lurking in the crowd the entire day, starting conversations when you'd get the chance, giving speeches about her art.

You talked and talked, over and over again, repeating what you've already said over twenty times by now and every group so far would listen carefully. Seeing them genuinely interested in your work made it all worthwhile.

Soon enough, night fell and people started leaving one by one, saying their goodbyes. It's a shame that the day has come to an end but if you're lucky maybe you will get more chances like this in the near future.

"nazoki-san!" One of the gallerys workers approaches you, "Would you mind picking up your work? I still have some guests to see off."

"Alright! Thank you so much again!" You bow down your head before you make your way to the hall where your work has been showcased up until now. It was a part of their agreement that when the event is over you'll get to bring your paintings back home.

When you step foot into the room, however, you find you weren't not alone. Almost like a deja-vu, in front of her stands a familiar brown haired person with their back turned towards you, in his hand, he held a book, it seemed like he was looking for some inspiration.

Your heart sinks.

Immediately, you stop in your tracks.

How?

Blood in your veins freezes as the cold sweat starts dripping down your face. It can't be…could it?

"E-excuse me-e—" you tried to speak up but your voice breaks in the most embarrassing way possible.

The person twitches in surprise, turning around with a startled expression on their face and it's the same damn expression you saw that day when you first grabbed their hand. you swear it is. It has to.

The person points an index finger to himself, tilting his head to the side, "Me?" as soon as you heard that voice, you knew damn well it was.

For a short moment their eyes lock. It's the same chocolate colored eyes holding the same lonesome warmth and oh you want to rush towards them at full speed and tackle them to the ground but youi calm yourself down and continues to talk, "We're closing."

Your voice comes off stronger and steadier this time but the hint of nervousness can still be distinguished.

"Oh… I'm sorry. I got lost in my thoughts."

So much happened today. You talked a lot, you walked a lot and on top of that you woke up early with only three hours of sleep the night prior, perhaps you're just imagining things. Maybe you're daydreaming again. But his voice sounds so real and you can see them so vividly even with you vision blurry from exhaustion.

There is so much you wanted to know, how, why, what, when, huh?? you heard stories about people's dreams coming true, about how some met people in their dreams but you never imagined anything so…extraordinary happening to you. But here you were with so many questions lingering in your head and so little time so you decided fuck it no matter what happens this time, no matter what kind of story your faith is writing, whatever happens in this timeline you weren't letting them go again.

The chocolate haired person gives you a warm smile, although, It looked a bit forced, you didn't say anything as he turns back to glance at the painting in front of them one last time.

"I was just thinking about how this painting looks a lot like me."

Your knees buckle up underneath you.

Weak .

you felt weak.

but you couldn't even focus on that, all you could focus on was how the person you've been longing for was indeed right in front of you.

and with that, the interlude halts.

₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ taglists are open everytime.

2024 © reposts are prohibited with/without permission... plagiarism is prohibited. don’t translate my work without my permission. i will take measures of reporting you. reblogs and likes are appreciated.

[chuulyssa]

Hi Hi!!! I apologize for the mistakes, since I am writing from a translator, but it is very interesting to see how Osamu prepares for his beloved's birthday! (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

Most of all I would like to see beastzai!!!!

And tomorrow is my own birthday, so I dared to ask.໒꒰ྀི˃ ⌑ ˂ഃ ꒱ྀི১

happy birthday anon! :D

BEASTZAI is one of those people who either pretend to forget your birthday all together or it's the only thing they're screaming about for the past 2 weeks. he's so excited about it, perhaps much more than you are, and definitely much more than he is on his own birthday.

he has marked calendars, cleared his schedule for a whole week prior to the day and asked gin and chuuya and literally everyone who enters his office to remind him about your birthday. all of this, even though he knows that he can never forget the date.

BEASTZAI who has everything done in advance. he's had his best people prepare itineraries for what the day should be like although he knows neither of you will follow it. expect to be treated like the richest and most beloved princess ever, because you are!

he flies you out to the country of your choice, which he had decided with a dramatic dart game. he's booked 5 star hotels and gotten reservations for the best restaurant ever. he's prepared a closet full of the prettiest dresses you've ever seen. all of this on chuuya's advice, of course.

BEASTZAI does not know how to celebrate birthdays. frankly, he wouldn't care if a date on the calendar told him he has completed another boring year around the sun. but you, oh no. you, you're so different. you're like a breath of fresh air in his lonely world.

you deserve all of this. all the money he can give you. he doesn't know how to thank you and tell you just how much you mean to him. so he responds by doing things that might make you happy on this day. you want to go to an arcade? he's got the whole area booked for you. you want to go to the movies? he's got the whole theater booked for you. anything for you.

BEASTZAI genuinely wants to do everything to make you happy today. he's not there for you all year round, he knows that, and he's sorry for it. so he wants to make sure you know that he needs you, and that he loves you at least on your birthday.

he adores you. he respects you. you want a quiet, peaceful day without all this hassle? consider it done. you want to be chilling on a beach in hawaii? sure, with him all over you of course.

BEASTZAI is a little kitten, and you are his favourite. he wants to cherish you. he wants to spoil you. he wants to make you feel like you're best most prettiest girl in the world.

he loves it when you laugh. he loves it when you giggle and give him tiny little head pats. he loves it when you play with his hair. so even with all the booking and reservations he has done, if you tell him you want to spend this day with him in bed, tangled with him like you're both inseparable, even then he'll be the happiest man in the world.

[lacunazai]

beast dazai who can't have you so he resorts to stealing your used sex toys while you're asleep, clasping a hand over his mouth to silence himself - and fucking himself in the corner of your room while you're clueless .

[raimoka]

— " SKYSCRAPER KILLS MY GHOST IN YOUR MEMORY "

｡ ㅤꕤ ㅤ PAIRING: beastzai & reader.

SYNOPSIS: dazai had been always painfully aware of his inability to obtain the things he wanted.

tags ➜ alternate universe—beast, beast spoilers, pining, gender neutral mc, kinda angsty, no happy ending, one-sided love, author is sleep deprived & may or may not have badly executed this work, lowercase as always. ‹𝟹

⋆ author's notes: another part of beastzai brain rot... this work was inspired by someone's else work, check out their account since it rlly gave me more motivation! also PLEASE give me ur thoughts abt beastzai since i rlly wanna write more abt him

send an order!! → guide ❀ flowers ←

"get away from me."

your words were harsh, accompanied with an abrasive tone which emphasized the words that elicited from your lips.

dazai's breath hitched, his expression distorted and his line of sight drawing meaningless figures in the air. he parted his lips open yet no words elicited from his lips, as if fighting against something invisible, as if he was a fish desperately wanting to say something but with the lack of vocal chords, they are unable to. his hands quaked, lowering his head to avoid the gaze piercing through his soul.

it wasn't the same. it was nowhere close, not even the slightest. the emotions reflecting on your eyes, your tone, your feelings towards him, everything about you. your eyes which would often reflect deep fondness and lenience were filled with cold bitterness, there was no single glimpse of love in your eyes, it was merely pure hatred. the look on your eyes stung him, as if his heart was being pierced by multiple glass shards leisurely, each one of them digging in slowly into the piece of flesh to agonize him and making sure he felt the sensation of each piece.

your love for him, or at least to him in another universe, was sweet as a sprig of mignonette. you showed extreme tenderness to him, so much that it brought queasiness to him with intense warmth engulfing his chest to the point it made his knees buckle underneath him yet all the traces of that love you always held for him was gone.

it wasn't the same.

he abruptly began to laugh, you blinked, tilting your head to the side, feigning your confusion as his soft laughters began to fill the tense atmosphere. he couldn't blame you, if someone suddenly laughed in front of him for absolutely no specific reason, he'd think they lost their mind the sound of his laughter slowly began to ebb away, his shoulders shaking, he was idiotic. how could he forget? he always have been conscious of it ever since the reality of his life had unfolded in front of him, dazai was never meant to be happy. he had no right to, he was in no position at all to deserve happiness, not with the pure blood that tainted his hands, everyone was better off without him and it was proven by the existence of this universe.

he was so distracted at the bright sun he saw for the first time in years upon discovering your presence, the luminance he witnessed left him too struck to the point when he stared at it, he forgot his own ugliness. 

he was so preoccupied with the warmthness that enveloped his chest he forgot his own destiny.

it was never meant to be the same.

he had always known that, he was utterly foolish for believing he could at least be with you, even for a moment.

with his head drooped, the sounds of his shoes stepping against the tiled floor was hushed, walking slowly to your frame. you took a step back, slightly. you were entirely befuddled by the situation unwrapping before you, that was a thing for certain. who wouldn't? you didn't know this person nor did he give any sort appearance of familiarity, however, he knew you wholly, he knew your name, your likes, your routine, but he was merely a stranger to you, nothing more, nothing less. the moonlight shone over your figure, making every single bit of features visible, his head still lowered, sticking in with the darkness—It truly looked as if he was already with it for ages, It suited himself.

his hands precipitously reached out to you, attempting to catch a piece of misty clothes, you initially planned to step back, afraid he would do anything that would harm you, nonetheless, all he did was grasp onto your murky clothes. he loathed it, he detested it, your guard was up, you were cautious and alarmed, you didn't trust him at all. you were petrified of what he was scheming when all he wanted to do was hold you and feel your warmth, in hopes it would make him forget his own reality momentarily even if he disliked being completely vulnerable and exposed. you blinked in surprise as his hands clutched onto your clothes, you couldn't see what he was thinking, he was hiding his eyes away from you. strangely, how he did so felt familiar in spite of you having no recollection of him.

he parted his lips once again, finally opening his mouth after a while, "I won't do anything." he assured, he wouldn't be able to handle it if he hurt you in any sort of ways, he wouldn't forgive himself. you remained silent, like a cold, uncomfortable.

"I won't hurt you, It would be imprudent to do so." he reaffirmed once again, despite knowing his affirmation wasn't most likely gonna be effective especially since you barely recognized him. 

all he wanted was just to get a single hold of you, after all, no matter how much he desired you to look at him with pure fondness, to hold his hand, to feel your hand caressing his face, to wrap your arms around his shoulder, and say some kind words to him like you used to, there was one thing for certain; you wouldn't, It's irrational, a stranger would have no right to feel all those, especially when the said stranger is an enemy of yours.

feeling the uneasiness grow further, you lightly placed your hand onto his bitterly cold hands, feeling his excoriated palms—completely besparred with feculent mire—with your thumb. you withdrew his hand away from yours clothes tattered with specks of dust. you were wholly fazed by his actions, it weirded you out. he understood what you were conveying and he backed away from you, lifting his once drooped head up slightly.

his gaze was kept on the ground, as if he was afraid to see the look you held for him. his eyes were swirling with sorrow and melancholiness, small tears swelling up on the corners of his eyes, It reminded you of a all mudded up mutt left in the streets—attempting to domesticate a monster into a lovable thing.

"I apologize for wasting your time." he spoke, and with that he turned around and left, never to be seen again.

It was pointless to meet up with you once more when he knew better than anyone else that you were completely disturbed by him, after all.

It would be the best option to not show himself to you again and accept you would forever hate him.

₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎ @saelique ,, taglists are open everytime.