vivysnights

[vivysnights]

Sorry, I wasn't active lately 🥺😔 I'm busy with uni (I go to uni 5 days a week and all of them start at 8 am and end at 4 pm) (like it's a 9 to 5 job bruh) So I don't know if I can write another fic for my bbg Fyodor but I will try if I have time. Sorry for disappointing you guys. I wish I could be active as much as I wanted to. Thank you all for support and love. Love u all 💜

[vivysnights]

Even after chapter 118 I support my bbg Fyodor and his rights and wrongs. FYODOR NATION ARISE!!!!!

[vivysnights]

You know....what if.....I mean... doesn't it sound like somebody.....like Dazai (let's hope not)

[vivysnights]

“the temple of your soul”

[vivysnights]

Not me accidentally posting a draft. Pretend like u didn't see it ☝️🤓 I'm cooking a short angst drabble for Christmas

[vivysnights]

I'm at ur service M'lady 🛐 on my knees for you GOD IT IS A GOOD DAY TO BE ALIVE THANK YOU 🙏

ah, evil women 🩶

[vivysnights]

KNOW THAT I'D GLADLY BE THE ICARUS TO YOUR CERTAINTY

FEATURING: D.OSAMU + GN!READER

dazai has never found himself falling this hard for someone before you

CW: fluff, written with fem reader in mind but really is gn reader, dazai being whipped, established relationship, slight angst near the end

A/N: this man is so pathetic i need him anyways sorry for ghosting the dazai x reader tag yall rip

dazai thinks you might be trying to kill him.

not with a knife to the throat, not with spiking his food or drink with poison, no not at all. you're not even doing anything, and yet his heart is beating so fast he can't even control his heartrate anymore. you're just typing away on your keyboard and dazai's throat feels so tight he worries that maybe you'll be the one that finally grants him the death he's been yearning for.

not that he'd mind, dying by your hands. his only regret to that would be he'd never lay eyes upon you again.

carefully, dazai shuffled his chair closer to you, head faced forward but his eyes peeking towards you. the sun shone bright on your skin, illuminating your face in a way that could be angelic, that was still angelic, if you weren't scrunching your face up, eyes squinting as you looked down at the screen.

oh, the sun's bothering you.

"hm? what are you..." you looked up as dazai got up from his chair and stood in front of your desk, blocking the bothersome light with his frame.

he leaned closer, grinning at you. "what? not even a thank you, 'bella?" you leaned back in your seat, suppressing the smile that threatened your lips. god, did he look cute like that, grinning up at you with a flush blooming on his cheeks, eyes wide and pupils dilated as if to take you in further than his body would allow.

you quirked your head to the side, humming as you reached out your hand. "for getting out of your chair?" your hand brushed his face, tucking some of dazai's soft hair behind his ear.

he bumped his cheek against your hand, furrowing his brows as he pushed his lip out. so cute.

"Did you not see what I just did for you?" dazai gasped.

you couldn't help but giggle. "you got up."

"I defied the sun for you, 'bella!" he exclaimed, pressing his puffed out cheek against your palm. "I did it because it was bothering you! I think that requires a show of appreciation, don't you think?"

you couldn't help but laugh at dazai's theatrics, gently brushing your thumb against his cheekbone. "thank you, for defying the sun for me osamu."

"osamu". the way you said his name made his stomach do summersaults. he whined as you pulled your hand away, letting out a scoff as your gaze dropped down to your work. quickly, he hooked a finger under your chin and tilted your face up, dropping the pout on his face for a coltish grin instead. "that's not what i mean, darling." dazai whispered as he leaned closer. he was close, so close you could feel his warm breath against your skin.

just as you were about to inquire what he meant, as if reading your mind dazai pressed his lips against yours, giggling against your mouth before pulling away.

"that's what i mean." he cooed, pressing his thumb against your lip.

of course he knew what you were going to say.

rolling your eyes and sighing as if exasperated, you looked up at him. but how could anyone even fake annoyance at the look on his beautiful face, all starry-eyed and flushed?

cupping his warm cheeks, you leaned in to kiss him. immediately dazai was around you, leaning uncomfortably over the desk to press one hand between your shoulder blades and the other finding purchase of your waist, chapped lips soft against your own.

his giggles quieted down to a soft hum against your mouth, nose bumping against yours as dazai kissed you. a whine slipped past he lips when you pulled away, and dazai couldn't help but childishly pout as you placed a hand on his chest to halt him as he chased your lips, missing the warmth they brought.

"your so mean, what if these were my final moments and you didn't let me kiss you one last time, hm? what then?" dazai puffed. yet even through his pretend displeasure, the giddiness that he so strongly felt was clear on his face, pale cheeks dusted pink and the corner of his lips tightening.

you let out a breathy giggle, letting your hand drop from his chest. "I can assure you, I'm not gonna let you die just because you didn't get to kiss me.

dazai only grumbled, leaning to kiss your cheek. "that's not want i meant!"

"we both know that's what you mean, osamu."

again with saying his name like that, you're going to kill him. dazai simply whined in response, pressing quick kisses across your face. he tried to calm the pace of his pulse yet it wouldn't cease its pounding.

what do you do to him?

"besides," you thread your fingers into his chocolatey brown hair, pressing your cheek against his head. "you're not going anywhere without me."

dazai tried. he really did try to say something witty to that, to make you flustered instead and he swore it was on the tip of his tongue but really the words were stuck in his throat, a jumbled mess of letters is what you've reduced his quick tongue to.

he pulled away to lick his dry lips, staring at your cheek as he tried to collect himself, mind a mushy mess of fuzziness and warmth. "how romantic of you 'bella." he croaked out with a chuckle, pressing his face against your neck.

dazai's lips brushed against your pulse. fast, but not pounding like his. he pressed his face further against you, like he wanted you to swallow him whole.

he'd do it, if it meant he'd be near you forever.

he'd do it, if it meant you'd never leave.

dazai already knows you wouldn't, not with the way you held him close to yourself, but with him should precious things never be near.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!! ©redamantiya 2024. Do not copy/repost my work(s) without explicit permission from me. dividers by @/cafekitsune. header belongs to me.

[vivysnights]

he's all in

[vivysnights]

y did u change your username?

Nothing particular 🤔 just felt like it ┐(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.)⁠┌

[vivysnights]

i love you and your works sm ☹️🎀

Nonnie thank you 🙏🎀 but why sad tho 🥺

[vivysnights]

"ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴇ ʜᴏᴡʟɪɴɢ, ʙᴀʙʏ?"

synopsis 𓂃𓈒𓍼ོ your gentility, affection, and stupidity has fyodor warning you— in his most cryptically subtle of ways— to stop. because you know better than to make his heart flutter, don’t you? (2k wc)

a/n 𓇢𓆸 this one was a bit very different from the mood i set for the work song fic so i can only hope i did well (⸝⸝⸝>﹏<⸝⸝⸝) work song was very slow and gentle with touches of devotion in between their soft moments, this fic is more faster(?) like the song its based on

content 𓍼ོ𓂃𓈒 jealous fedya at one point, or at least, fedya flavor of jealousy. not too sure how i did with the hozier song references this time but it is based on one ! non-established relationship w/ reader & fyodor, one-sided pining, oblivious reader

Fyodor Dostoevsky watched as his new… acquaintance eyed his face and body. He wouldn’t go so far as to call them his rival. After all, a rival would mean they had an intelligence that challenged his own. And there were only a very, very, very select few worthy of being called his rival.

And no one could ever be called his companion. So that term was thrown out the window too.

Focused yet guarded was their gaze. Akin to a mouse sniffing something new. A smirk quipped over his lips at the comparison. Such a curious creature you were.

Perfect for a cat to swoop in any moment.

 Still, despite this brief moment of humor they had brought upon him, Fyodor Dostoevsky knew better than to connect to someone other than the lord or himself. With this, his smile faded away like sand in the wind. 

 Thankfully, much before the person could even see he had noticed them in the first place. 

 Your eyes trailed over the sharp expanse of Fyodor’s jaw, followed by a curious peek at the soft skin between the sides of his hair—his ears were unpierced, you noted. Abundant only in snowy skin and the occasional tinge of red amongst the smooth, bony terrain. 

 “What are you looking at, мышка?” 

 Flustered by the interruption, your eyes stuttered back onto his actual face. Not only the tiniest details of it. Locking eyes, yours intertwined themselves in his dark burgundy. Like always, they studied you like some subject, some lab rat. 

 “I’m looking at you.” You decided to disregard any caution and smiled honestly. 

 Little did you know that that was exactly what caught Fyodor off-guard. A stir rippled within the man’s narrowed gaze, and a curt “I see” was all he gave in return.

 Your fingers rose to brush away a black hair strand that irked your tastes — to which he leisurely shifted away from — 

 “Do be wary of touching me, мышка.” Squinted eyes pinched into a warning glare. “You know better than that, don’t you?” Akin to what you could only imagine his touch felt like, his voice was as sharp and chilling as ice itself. 

 You shuddered. ‘He’s like frostbite.’ Still, it was nothing new coming from Fyodor. He had always been the kind of man who avoided all levels of physical and emotional connection. All you could do was offer the Russian yet another smile, softer this time — as if coaxing a wild animal.

 “I do.” 

 Frowning lips furthered its sides. 

 “But you have an ugly piece of hair.” You explained.

 His eye twitched. “Ugly?” The Russian repeated with an incredulous grin, sending chills down your back.  Despite the ever-lingering frost on your spine, another nod was given, and you leaned in —

 “Right…”

 Your finger grazed over the stuck strand. His eyes locked onto the reflections in yours.

 “… There.” 

 Cherry wine eyes never looked away. Nor did a hand come up to correct his hair. 

 He was the kind of man who never needed corrections, after all — especially not from someone as inferior, daft, and naive as you. Don’t take it personally. He had nothing against you. It was simply the truth, as he believed so. 

  It was just how he was. There was no changing that. And you knew well of that. 

 “Fyodor?”

 A scoff. It was softer this time, though. After what felt like an eternity with the ever-so-silent man, he looked away. 

 That kind of gesture… was it a sign of something ulterior? His eyes pinched once more. 

 As shocking a revelation as it may be, you were unabashedly and likely unknowingly, completely genuine about such a simple act — like fixing his hair. The action itself wasn’t what had him so jarred. But the fact that you dared to do so in the first place. 

 Did you not respect him as you should’ve? No, no… He would’ve seen it in your eyes if you didn’t. And as of right now…

 They were painted in strokes of gentle worry, and an internal conflict over whether or not to probe what had led him into such a silent ponder. 

‘How intriguing.’

 Dipped in pink and tattered at the edges, Fyodor brought a finger along the top of his lips and the rest below to send his acquaintance a deep chuckle. 

 “No need to fret over me, мышка.”

 After all… 

 You let out a sigh of relief, scratching the side of your jaw with a lightening chuckle. As you droned on about whatever your morning was — Fyodor’s face fell once more.

 Who knew what would happen if you showed patience to someone like him?

 Cherry wine eyes greeted you with that same, squinted gaze. 

 You replied with your own version of it, corners shrunken by the weight of a smile. 

 An overbearing warmth shrouded the black cloak that once billowed atop his frog-buttoned attire. Normally, he would’ve killed anyone over so much as a graze. However, it seemed that time had a way of wading away his impossible patience. 

 Hence, right now. 

 The embrace of living warmth held him close like sunlight after rainfall.

He knew himself better than anyone else in the world. Besides God, of course. But even a water-bear would’ve known that you couldn’t hug the man as blatantly as this. 

 Right?

 A single brush of an ice-dipped finger smoothed over your back.

 And yet he didn’t budge an inch. Not even a twitch of his lips moved to mock your affection. 

Something cold pushed your back until you were flush against each other’s chests.

As you were soaked in the cold skeleton of the Russian, he pierced through your mind like a shot to the head. Why were you hugging him? Did you mean anything behind it? Did you truly understand the severity of this transgression? 

 Before he can retort with a riddle of an insult— you’re squeezing him even tighter.

 Cherry wine eyes fluttered at the alien sight of his body stuck to yours in such a state. The product of his observation only left his lip bitten even more. 

 What a monster you were for making him break his skin like so. What a monster you were for hugging him so brazenly like this— have you no shame? And oh— what a monster you were for letting go so quickly. 

 A glare followed your retreating frame, which was bidding him goodbye after such a generosity. 

 Every tactic he believed you were using had been washed away like sand. He was right from the start— like always— you were, horribly so, genuine with your affections. Though, he supposed you only had yourself to blame for being so generously warm. 

 A man so devoid of heat himself had begrudgingly been drawn to you. As icy as ever, Fyodor locked onto your ever-so-daft stare with a low voice. 

 “Your attire is unsuitable for that man.”

 As of now, you were getting dressed for a blind date arranged by one of your more hopelessly romantic friends. 

 For some odd reason, Fyodor was against it. Only slightly though. After all, if he truly was against it, he’d be much more verbal about it.

 Wouldn’t he?

 “It’s one of my best clothing combinations yet.” You huffed of both pride and irritation.

 “Precisely.” 

 You shot him a glare and an eye-roll, to which he replied with his typical (and very overused) frown. ‘What on earth did that even mean?’ Your fingers twitched in frustration. 

 “I don’t look cute?”

 Blackberry locks swayed as he hummed. “Do not twist my words, мышка.”

 Cold perfume settled in tiny pools atop the wrists of your rolled-up sleeves. According to the weather, it’d be a bit of a cloudy day, maybe even with some rain. You briefly considered bringing an umbrella, a hoodie would work well, too. 

 Though… your umbrella got swept away in the last storm. And wearing a hoodie would tangle up your outfit once you took it off inside the restaurant. 

 After a few seconds of waiting for the scent to soak into your skin, the Russian spoke again as you readjusted your outfit.

“Do be careful, мышка.” Snowy fingers wrapped around the front doorknob before you could stop him. 

 A burgundy gaze seeped through yours with a hint of unfamiliar, undetermined, and unrecognizable green. 

 “I hear there is heavy rain tonight.”

 Click.

The man that your friends had set you up with was young at heart. To say the least., to say the least. 

He had been rowdy upon entering the restaurant, giving you second-hand embarrassment before even realizing that, oh yes, that was your blind date. The frat boy that was flirting with the waitress via Urban Dictionary pickup lines. 

You took a heavy gulp of tea when he was escorted to you. If you weren’t sweating bullets, you would’ve noticed the cringing smiles that the staff were giving you while your little blind date prattled on about his latest party. 

He wasn’t mean. Just… on the louder side of things. Like snapping his fingers and his mouth at the waiter. And snorting at an old couple acting affectionate. And spilling his drink all over your clothes…

It was safe to say that this date was a failure. Hence, why you were outside— in the restaurant alleyway— spamming your friends’ group chats with all sorts of cries for help. Most of it was just gibberish, though.

A dollop of water maximized a portion of your screen. Then another. And another. 

On your hands. On your clothes, which were still drying from your blind date’s juice. And on your now lagging phone. 

“No, no, no…!” Whatever had blurred your vision only stung the inside of your face more.

“Hey, what’s taking so long?” 

Oh god. Not him. You didn’t think that someone like him would come out after you. Especially not in this weather— 

“Sorry!” You could only clutch and hope that your laugh sounded as convincible as a certain Russian’s silver tongue. 

Spinning on your heel to face the college boy, the glitching phone rubbed itself dry on your back as you procured a smile. “Slow connection…” 

“Well hurry it up. That check’s not gonna pay for itself, y’know?” You swore you saw red. 

As he started to go on and on about how boring of a restaurant this place was and whatnot, the corners of your eyes twitched and rolled in tandem with every damn syllable that fell from that jerk’s accursed lips.

The air of black tea suddenly filled your nostrils. Alongside a familiar chill snaking around your waist snugly.

The rainfall overhead had come to a mysterious halt. Well, not so mysterious anymore since there was the translucence of an umbrella overhead. Returning your gaze to Fyodor, you could’ve sworn there was a patch of something on his furthest shoulder from you.

A curious coo fell from your lips, which you now realized were shivering from the cold. If you listened closely enough, a desperate wisp of wind could heard. Just faintly. 

Didn’t you understand how special you were?  

Lacking any sort of cautious resolve, you slowly looked up with a small sniff. The Russian always radiated the smell of black tea. Though, on more than a few occasions you’d catch a whiff of wine or, very oddly enough, iron.

 Didn’t you understand how he wanted you?

 Cherry wine eyes raked over your form as he intertwined both of your hands together— and without so much as a second thought, like you— he let you. 

 Didn’t you understand what you were doing to him?

 “How are you tonight?” The confused barks of your blind date buzzed into nothing. All while you giggled at the absurdness of his arrival. How had he come so quickly? You guessed that you must’ve panic-texted Fyodor as well when spamming your hopeless companions. 

 Didn’t you realize he was giving you more than he’d ever given anyone before?

 To speak to him so casually, without meaning any disrespect… One could only have nightmares of talking to him like that.

 Didn’t you understand?

  Burgundy lamps fluttered again before closing, shielding themselves from your unabashed face. “I am much better now, дорогая. Especially with a scent as tender as yours.” 

 Something cold pushed you to follow suit as the two of you exited the dark alleyway. An eyebrow was raised at the compliment. The rain should’ve washed away all traces of your perfume. 

 The Russian’s eyes never left your side as you shrugged it off. ‘What a weird guy.’

 Didn’t you know better?

taglist࣪ ִֶָ☾. @aureatchi @soleelia + to be included please comment until i figure out how to work a google form !

translations ! (these are rough translations, and if there are any inaccuracies please let me know)

мышка - 'mouse' classic nickname for fyodor to use, but it lacks intimacy and tells of how inferior he views reader дорогая - ‘darling' obviously not the same as мышка, hrmm i wonder why

thank you so much to @guacamoleroll for betareading once again !!! they are quite literally my knight in shining armor (˶ > ₃ < ˶)♡

another thanks to @/saradika-graphics for all the wonderful dividers ! the images in between were either found on pinterest or edited by yours truly <3 thank you for reading !

© yonseibananamilk 2024 — please refrain from copying, plagiarizing and/or reposting my works on other platforms. reblogs, notes, and comments are very appreciated!

[vivysnights]

[vivysnights]

“I ask for so little.”

He gently cups your face, his eyes gleaming with mischief and purest obsession. Raw, dark, threatening. You gulp.

“Just let me rule you…and you can have everything that you want.”

“F-Fyodor…I—“

“No, my dear. Just fear me, love me, do as I say…”

His lips are about to touch yours, you can feel his breath caressing your lips.

“…and I will be your slave.”

Hardcore Yandere!Fyodor.

Labyrinth (1986) x BSD because why not?

[vivysnights]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Hi :3 you can call me Vivy or anything you wish, I'm a university student and I'm 21

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ I usually post about Fyodor from Bungou Stray Dogs and share NSFW content

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ I don't take requests at the moment. But feel free to interact with me, ask me anything, I appreciate your thoughts 💜

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Please don't share my works anywhere else as yours or translate them

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ English is not my first language so if there are any grammatical mistakes forgive this pookie (me)

Ex-Husband! Fyodor -> part 1 • part 2

Rest easy, my dear Fedya (a short drabble)

[vivysnights]

Mdni, ideal type! fem!reader x Dazai Osamu, VERY LONG AND DETAILED, platonic relationships such as: Odasaku, Atsushi, Kunikida, Chuuya and Sigma are briefly mentioned, Yandere behaviour, unhealthy behaviour, psychological disorders and suicide/double suicide mentioned.

DAZAI’S MASTERLIST => HERE

I enjoyed writing for Dazai very much, he has a big place in my heart.🩵 I received a request regarding PM!Dazai’s ideal type as well, I’ll post it in a few days.🩵

Dazai’s ideal type

Dazai is a complex and enigmatic figure, who can be described as a romantic—though not in the conventional sense of actively seeking love and connection.

Instead, he romanticizes the idea of meaningful connections. What does this mean?

Dazai is known to suffer from depression and harbors a deep desire to end his life.

However, he doesn’t wish to do so alone. He fantasizes about dying with a “beautiful woman” in a double suicide, which is inherently romantic.

This desire echoes tragic love stories like Romeo and Juliet or Cleopatra and Mark Antony, where love and death are intertwined.

This suggests that Dazai may deeply fantasize about love and being loved—perhaps even yearning for someone who loves him so much that she would sacrifice her life for him.

But why would someone wish for a double suicide in the first place?

Dazai sees no purpose in life, a perspective not commonly shared by others.

This makes it likely that his ideal partner would be someone who not only values life but is also grateful for what she has—because Dazai is only truly comfortable when he is surrounded by such people as Atsushi, Kunikida, Chuuya (debatable), and even Sigma.

He needs to learn this perspective to find his own meaning in life.

She would possess a sweet, positive spirit but would still be able to fully grasp Dazai’s bleak outlook, his feelings, and his philosophy—or the lack thereof.

Dazai might be drawn to a partner who is calm, patient, and nurturing.

Given his often childish behavior, it’s possible that he never had the chance to experience love in a normal, healthy way during his childhood.

We know little about his upbringing, but it’s clear he lacks any emotional connection or attachment to his parents.

Dazai is deeply wounded, depressed, and feels empty—though the reasons remain unclear.

The only person Dazai has truly loved, and who loved him in return, seems to be Odasaku.

So what makes Odasaku so special? What traits does he possess that Dazai might seek in a partner?

Odasaku was always calm and patient with him, seeing through Dazai’s lifeless eyes and empty heart.

He recognized Dazai's pain, suggesting that “someone needs to rip that pain out of this child’s chest.”

What if Dazai's ideal partner is someone who embodies these comforting and meaningful qualities, loving him unconditionally?

I believe this to be the ultimate solution to many aspects that trouble Dazai.

Teenage Dazai, in particular, strikes me as more of a “puppy” than the “cat” he becomes as an adult—craving affection and warmth.

He needed someone who cared for him, and that someone was Odasaku. His partner should be able to do the same.

Dazai might love a calm partner who can handle his antics but also sees through them without violating his comfort zone or coping mechanisms.

She would understand his inner darkness but wouldn’t fear it—instead, she would embrace it with a loving demeanor.

She would be confident, but in a strangely shy and quiet way.

She would be someone who is at peace with herself, someone who is inspirational to others.

She would accept him as he is and believe in him, helping him to become the best version of himself.

This is why Dazai is so fond of Atsushi.

Atsushi is empathetic, having suffered himself, and he embraces Dazai with unconditional love.

If Dazai were to meet a woman who could offer the same understanding and compassion, it’s hard to see why he wouldn’t be saved.

Dazai feels responsible for Atsushi, and it gives his life a certain meaning he doesn’t truly grasp yet.

If he felt the same responsibility for someone much closer to his heart—his lover—it would have a profoundly positive effect on him.

Regarding physical traits, Dazai doesn’t seem overly concerned with them.

However, he has expressed a preference for “beautiful” women, as seen in his desire to commit double suicide with one.

While physical beauty might not be his top priority, he likely appreciates aesthetically pleasing women.

Dazai claims to like all women, but I can imagine him being drawn to a feminine, quiet, and insightful young woman.

This woman would possess an innate ability to sense others’ emotions and motivations, her sensitive and calm nature allowing her to do so effortlessly.

She would be observant, with her beauty often leading others, including Dazai, to underestimate her at first.

And yet, it would be as if she could read his mind and heart—something deeply uncomfortable for someone as guarded and inflexible with his own vulnerability as Dazai.

Interestingly, some of these traits might also make her an ideal partner for Fyodor.

However, while Dazai and Fyodor are alike in some aspects, they differ in others.

Fyodor’s ideal type might align with Dazai’s, but with less submissiveness and more approachability.

Does it ring? The drama that might approach?

Let me summarize: In terms of personality, Dazai has a soft spot for empathetic and loving people.

Therefore, he would undoubtedly adore a darling who is very empathetic, sensitive, and kind.

I don’t see him having a specific preference for body type—short, tall, curvy, or skinny; it doesn’t matter to him.

He will always find a way to appreciate your body in every sense, as this is simply part of who Dazai is. You shouldn’t be surprised by that.

I can see Dazai taking a liking to long hair (similar to Fyodor), as it emphasizes femininity.

He might particularly favor wavy or curly hair because it gives a more approachable, sweet, and innocent appearance compared to straight or short hair.

This style implies youth and an ethereal quality, which aligns perfectly with Dazai’s romanticism.

Skin color, as well as hair and eye color, wouldn’t matter to him at all.

In his mind, he would view you, his love, as aesthetically ethereal and one of a kind.

Your features would be etched into the canvas of his mind's eye, surrounded by fitting backgrounds and colors.

With you, he would find solace, love, and acceptance, as well as the meaning in life he has been desperately searching for.

You don’t need to match his intellect or mastermind abilities; he cherishes those around him who don’t possess these qualities, and he doesn’t look down on them.

What he needs is someone empathetic enough (like Oda [ in his case platonically]) to love him unconditionally and sincerely, without judging him—someone who would guide him to the light without expecting anything unnatural or selfish in return.

However, his darling would need to be mentally strong and willing to share his burdens.

This is difficult to do and would only work with true, pure love, which is why Dazai needs someone who loves him unconditionally.

I don’t see Dazai manipulating his darling because he doesn’t manipulate or control the people he cherishes. Instead, he trusts them.

This would be the case with his darling as well. He would trust her, and this trust would be a choice that greatly benefits his well-being.

You would need to bring brightness to his life—love, warmth, connection, and compassion—balancing out his dark inner world.

He would be astonished when he realizes how deeply you love him without being manipulated, how pure your feelings are, and how you seem to see his soul and accept him as he is (much like Fyodor).

Your dedication to helping him improve, because you see the light and potential in him, would touch him deeply.

To you, he is human, and you wish to help him see that too. He loves you for it, so, so much.

Once Dazai recognizes this, he would never, ever let you go.

He might fear losing you or worry that you deserve better, but he would be too selfish to let you be with anyone else.

This would make him fiercely protective of you, even as he tries to maintain his enigmatic self, playing it off with his usual clinginess.

But of course, you would see right through this and reassure him that you’ll always be there for him, protecting him from anyone and anything else, even from himself.

In return, he would protect you, love you, and obsess over you—affectionately.🩵

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[vivysnights]

~ 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.

[vivysnights]

Kunikida is everything that Fukuchi is pretended to be. A man of the people. A symbol of justice and protector of the innocent. A leader who cares for their subordinates and listens to them. Fukuchi called himself a hero while everyone else hails Kunikida as there’s.