Dazai Osamu X Reader - Blog Posts

"Of course I knew you were watching me," you giggled. The sound would have had Dazai swooning had he not been confused at your reply.

"This whole time?" His bottom lip juts out into a pensive pout, clearly thinking back to the way you'd glance at the bear... He guesses it makes sense.

"It's cute. A guy who likes me so much he stalks me? Kinda sweet." You shift slightly in the harsh wooden chair, wrists aching from the tightly woven rope keeping them restrained. "But, I didn't realize you'd take it this far..."

"Why wouldn't I? You're mine, aren't you?" Dazai asked genuinely. "I keep my things in my home — the last thing I want is for anyone to take them from me." His answer made sense to him. Replacing you was out of the question, so he'd have to ensure your safety.

You shrug as best as you can while restrained. "Yeah, I guess I see that, but I don't want to be tied up. Free me, then you can ask me out on a real date."

"We no longer need real dates. You're mine, didn't you hear me? I can— "

"I heard you, Dazai," you cut him off. "But I'll be returning to my apartment before morning. I deserve to be courted, don't I? So you can watch me through your little bear, and ask me out properly tomorrow. Then I can be yours publicly," you explain, shifting your no-doubt reddened wrists once again. "Doesn't that sound nice?"

It did — it does. As much as Dazai doesn't want anyone else laying their undeserving eyes on you, parading you around sounds so much sweeter. But, "I can't untie you, love. Not 'til I know you're mine."

"And I can't be yours until you untie me. Guess we're at a standstill."

"I guess we are."

y!dazai buying plushies and clothes for you :) but since he’s a massive douchebag he ended making you cry about it (probably didn’t feel bad either bleh)

he feels like he need to coddle you every single minute of the day or else he’ll go batshit crazy

anon i thought this said MAKING clothes for u i was about to cheer imagine dazai with his precise and nimble fingers hand sewing clothing for himself during the two years he spent underground, patching holes in his jacket and such ouughhh.. his darling gifts him a sewing machine after seeing his dodgy sewing set up utilizing a single bent needle and a lot of patience that he doesn’t normally have… ARE YOU ALL SEEING THIS TOO…… tbh tho he’d prick himself one (1) time with the needle and never pick one up again he’s such a baby or he’d swallow one

Kidnapper!Dazai who drones on and on about how hard he works to provide for the two of you, the least you can do is cuddle the plushies he got you if not him. That’s money that could have gone towards the betterment of your forcibly shared apartment, rather than some childish plushies just to keep you placated. Stop crying, that’s why he got them for you, remember?

wait hold on

He tries and be all sweet and doting, dropping the plush on top of some cozy pajamas he’d purchased for you that day. With a delusional smile he’d pull you into a hug, tugging at the hem of your pants claiming he wants a fashion show. At least the pajamas are modest — long pant legs and sleeves that at least cover your shoulders. The worst offender has a low neckline, but he’s sure you’ll appreciate that he didn’t go for anything too crazy. You’ll gently push him away, picking up the stuffed plush from the thick paper bags instead: It looks just like the one you had as a child. Dazai knows this, of course, like he knows everything else about you. He sits back with a smug grin, watching as you gently push it from one hand to the other.

The difference between this plush and the one sitting in storage at your parents’ home is the life brought into it: fur that is no longer matted from love and eyes that aren’t scuffed and scraped from kicking it off your bed at night… Wow, you missed those days. You missed your mom. A frown crosses your face as you turn towards your shared bedroom, deciding to spend sometime on your own. Before you can enact these plans, however, Dazai plucks the stuffie from your gentle grip, holding him high above your head. Your eyes widen and your face immediately drops. Hadn’t he already taken so much from you? Tears begin falling before you can even register it, too caught up in the sudden fear that you’d lose another part of yourself. Your parents, your friends, your life before this: it was all imprinted onto that stupid stuffed toy Dazai had gotten as an afterthought.

Yet, he continued to dangle it over your head. “You’ll get this little fella back when you answer me. Don’t you wanna make me as happy as I’ve made you?”

Happy? You couldn’t help but feel sick. With how long you’ve been in Dazai’s home, you knew expressing that wouldn’t get you the plushie back. The sleeve of your current outfit helps to wipe the tears off of your cheeks. “Fa-fashion show, right? Okay, okay,” you mutter while dropping to your knees, digging through the bag of clothing for the first set.

This is not your prompt but Dazai who bought a cam stuffie. Unbeknownst to you, the eye of the cute little teddy your dear friend gifted you fed video straight to his laptop at all hours of the day. He spends his nights watching you sleep peacefully; the rise and fall of your chest soothing him and giving him something to focus on other than the negative thoughts on his mind. Something about the way you’d pat the little bear on the head every morning had him swooning, as though you were doing the action to him. Weirdly enough, you always seemed to turn the little teddy away before changing… Oh well — Dazai would have plenty of time to see everything he wants to once you’re finally together: something he envisions happening soon.

this is not proofread bc i have soo much due rn... classes are kicking my ass!!! hope you like it anon :)

y!dazai buying plushies and clothes for you :) but since he’s a massive douchebag he ended making you cry about it (probably didn’t feel bad either bleh)

he feels like he need to coddle you every single minute of the day or else he’ll go batshit crazy

anon i thought this said MAKING clothes for u i was about to cheer imagine dazai with his precise and nimble fingers hand sewing clothing for himself during the two years he spent underground, patching holes in his jacket and such ouughhh.. his darling gifts him a sewing machine after seeing his dodgy sewing set up utilizing a single bent needle and a lot of patience that he doesn’t normally have… ARE YOU ALL SEEING THIS TOO…… tbh tho he’d prick himself one (1) time with the needle and never pick one up again he’s such a baby or he’d swallow one

Kidnapper!Dazai who drones on and on about how hard he works to provide for the two of you, the least you can do is cuddle the plushies he got you if not him. That’s money that could have gone towards the betterment of your forcibly shared apartment, rather than some childish plushies just to keep you placated. Stop crying, that’s why he got them for you, remember?

wait hold on

He tries and be all sweet and doting, dropping the plush on top of some cozy pajamas he’d purchased for you that day. With a delusional smile he’d pull you into a hug, tugging at the hem of your pants claiming he wants a fashion show. At least the pajamas are modest — long pant legs and sleeves that at least cover your shoulders. The worst offender has a low neckline, but he’s sure you’ll appreciate that he didn’t go for anything too crazy. You’ll gently push him away, picking up the stuffed plush from the thick paper bags instead: It looks just like the one you had as a child. Dazai knows this, of course, like he knows everything else about you. He sits back with a smug grin, watching as you gently push it from one hand to the other.

The difference between this plush and the one sitting in storage at your parents’ home is the life brought into it: fur that is no longer matted from love and eyes that aren’t scuffed and scraped from kicking it off your bed at night… Wow, you missed those days. You missed your mom. A frown crosses your face as you turn towards your shared bedroom, deciding to spend sometime on your own. Before you can enact these plans, however, Dazai plucks the stuffie from your gentle grip, holding him high above your head. Your eyes widen and your face immediately drops. Hadn’t he already taken so much from you? Tears begin falling before you can even register it, too caught up in the sudden fear that you’d lose another part of yourself. Your parents, your friends, your life before this: it was all imprinted onto that stupid stuffed toy Dazai had gotten as an afterthought.

Yet, he continued to dangle it over your head. “You’ll get this little fella back when you answer me. Don’t you wanna make me as happy as I’ve made you?”

Happy? You couldn’t help but feel sick. With how long you’ve been in Dazai’s home, you knew expressing that wouldn’t get you the plushie back. The sleeve of your current outfit helps to wipe the tears off of your cheeks. “Fa-fashion show, right? Okay, okay,” you mutter while dropping to your knees, digging through the bag of clothing for the first set.

This is not your prompt but Dazai who bought a cam stuffie. Unbeknownst to you, the eye of the cute little teddy your dear friend gifted you fed video straight to his laptop at all hours of the day. He spends his nights watching you sleep peacefully; the rise and fall of your chest soothing him and giving him something to focus on other than the negative thoughts on his mind. Something about the way you’d pat the little bear on the head every morning had him swooning, as though you were doing the action to him. Weirdly enough, you always seemed to turn the little teddy away before changing… Oh well — Dazai would have plenty of time to see everything he wants to once you’re finally together: something he envisions happening soon.

this is not proofread bc i have soo much due rn... classes are kicking my ass!!! hope you like it anon :)

hiii! how about ~any bsd characters of your choice~ when they make you cry for the first time during an argument? (maybe they say something mean, weaponize your insecurities, tell you to shut up (yeah, i'm sensitive to this heh), won't listen to you, etc)

yayyy any of my choice!!! that means my faves dazai and nikolai <3 love u anon

cw: intimacy ? "fuck" is used multiple times, u call urself an escort

A soft breath left your lips as you stared at your ceiling. Without even looking at the clock, you were sure it read some time past 12. You had quite a late night, even just the thought causing you to feel tired again. Closing your eyes tightly, you buried your face into your pillow, turning over in bed to do so.

The movement is followed by a deep chuckle from beside you, causing your eyes to snap open in surprise for a moment. There he is: the man who kept you up.

"Oh, you're still here." You spoke before thinking, the words coming out of your mouth as merely an observation.

"Ouch," he smirked, his hand reaching out to gently brush some hair from your face. "Good morning. Or should I say good afternoon, hm?"

"Um, sure. Thanks for last night, I suppose." Is that what he's waiting on? Acknowledgment? You pull the covers further up, making to sure cover as much of your torso as you can.

Your ex boyfriend only smirked, fingers trailing down your body just above the thick blankets. He propped his head up on one hand, elbow sinking slightly into your mattress. The way the afternoon sun danced between his brown curls made you think of last night, and how nice it felt to grip his soft hair once again. The thought makes you sigh, turning away from him to gaze at the ceiling once more.

"Hey, so, um, I gotta get ready. I have plans later..." you trail off, hoping he'll take the hint. Your ex has always been smart, especially socially - he'll understand.

And he does, for the most part, but he doesn't care. "Kicking me out already? The day just started. I thought you'd at least offer me a bowl of cereal before sending me away." His tone is teasing, the same smug smirk sitting prettily on his lips. "What are your plans, then? Anything I can tag along for?"

The incredulous look on your face gives away your confusion. "What..? No. Hey, thanks again for last night, but this is where we part. You got what you wanted, didn't you?"

He pouts at your words before sitting up. "Yeah, fine. I got what I wanted. Didn't realize this was just a fuck for you."

"Are you saying for you this was more?" You asked genuinely.

"No, I just thought it might have been more for you," he replies dismissively. Standing up, he begins pulling on his pants. "Have fun on your date, then."

You nod, unaware of his trap as you reply genuinely. "Thanks, I'll try."

He pauses, one leg in his pant leg and the other hovering just above it. "So you are prepping for a date."

Looking at him curiously, you nod. "Mhm, yeah. I was chatting with someone on Tinder. Figured I shouldn't go running to my ex whenever I need a good fuck."

He scoffs. "You think you can get a good fuck anywhere else?"

"That's what I'm tryna find out. Put on your pants, please."

"I guess it's my fault then, hm?" His eyes narrowed at you, giving nothing away as he remained frustrated and angry.

"...Fault for what?" You were confused, unaware as to what he was hinting at.

Your ex grits his teeth, feeling annoyed at your obliviousness. "For thinking we might actually get back together."

His words left you stunned for a moment, watching in silence he pulled his pants on the rest of the way. With a rather solemn expression, he shook his head in defeat and put his shirt on quickly. "There's my answer, then," he murmured, more to himself than you as he turned to leave.

Anger coursed through your body. How dare he play the hurt victim now? "Hey, fuck you!" You shouted without thinking. What a colossal asshole! "The night I broke up with you, you told me you never even liked me in the first place! And now what, you suddenly wanna 'rekindle what we had?' What did we have, Dazai? Please, enlighten me, because I find myself remembering that our whole relationship was just you talking down to me and treating me like some second-rate escort! I'm sorry for wanting more," you unloaded. Every thought that had been bouncing around in your head moved out of the way as you admitted what had been eating at you during the year of your relationship together. "It was our one year anniversary, you know, when I finally called it quits. Did you even remember?"

He didn't; of course not. You could just tell by his continued silence and the way he glanced away.

Tears brimmed your eyes. The only thing worse than his condescending remarks was the silence. You couldn't stand his quiet behavior, even when you were together - it screamed pity, and that's the last thing you wanted from someone who always knew what to say. "Get the fuck out of my house." You flopped back against your bed, burying your face into a soft pillow for the second time since waking up less than 10 minutes ago.

The sound of his feet pattering away is unheard by you, barely able to hear anything over the ringing in your head. As silently as you can, you sob into your pillow, feeling hurt and used by your stupid ex boyfriend.

Nikolai, in his crusade for emotional freedom, sometimes found himself treating you in a way that was less than ideal. He liked starting arguments with you, “proving” he didn’t love you as much as he clearly did and definitely wasn’t willing to do anything you asked. It was always over small things, like who made dinner (he’d get mad if you made it since he wanted to treat you or get mad that he’d have to make it since he always does) or how you hogged the blankets at night. Because of this, you usually overlooked it — you understand that it’s his way of proving his freedom and it never devolved into anything more.

Until today, that is. You could hardly remember what the argument was originally about, but he just kept pushing…

“Nikolai, I don’t even know what I did wrong.” Tears were starting to gather in your eyes, making them puffy and glazed over. The more he raised his voice, the more you shrunk in on yourself.

“That’s the problem! How could you not know?!” He took a step closer, towering over you with his large frame.

It was almost hard to breathe, panic coursing through your veins as you suddenly pushed him away with every ounce of strength you had. Silence coursed between the two of you, air tense and uncomfortable. Your tears finally spill once you notice how your hands are shaking. Fine, if he wanted to be free, then far be it from you to stop him.

Wiping your cheeks, you weakly reply, “Get out of my apartment.”

The white haired man paused, waiting to see if you meant it. You didn’t, not really, but it’s embarrassing to admit that when you gaze at your fearfully shaking hands. This isn’t how a boyfriend should treat his partner.

“Please, Nikolai…” You’d fold, you always did, so you resorted to begging while you still had the courage.

That courage wavers fully as his hands rested on your hips, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “It’s my fault, baby,” he whispers. “Let me make it up to you. I’ll get you flowers, and we can order your favorite takeout and have a picnic in the living room while watching your favorite movie…” His thumbs brushed the fresh tears away before both hands grabbed yours. “The last thing I want is for my dove to be scared of me, I swear. I love you more than anything, you’re all I want,” he presses soft kisses against your knuckles, “please, just let me stay...”

You fold.

thank you for this bc i have been ITCHING to write for nikolai my wife my girlfriend my lover (I HAVENT WRITTEN FOR HIM B4 SORRY)

thinking about extremely whipped and easily jealous pm dazai with a big crush on reader who keeps talking to chuuya. he assumes this means they have something that he and reader doesn’t have and gets sad about it. he goes to the bar just to vent about it to chuuya who spits his wine everywhere and tells him how stupid be is because y/n likes HIM more than any other person

extremely whipped dazai… anon you’re speaking my language

Dazai had been drinking more than usual, Chuuya had quickly noticed. While the two were quick to claim that they aren’t friends, it was common to see them sitting next to each other after a particularly long day sharing a bottle of wine and venting. Today was no different, the men relaxing in the ginger’s office on his expensive leather chairs, crowding around his desk. The bandaged man poured himself another heavy glass of the bottle Chuuya had been saving for a while, causing him to grumble under his breath.

“I dunno why you’re so angry…”

The short man scoffed at that, deciding to top off his glass as well while he spoke. “You purposely picked the bottle I was savin’,” reddened cheeks give away his slipping sobriety, “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“Wasn’t tryna hide it,” Dazai had let out a scoff of his own, chin resting on the hard wood of Chuuya’s work desk. He glared down at the many signed documents, huffing angrily at the signatures of his rival. “You owe me this, at least.”

Chuuya’s eyebrows furrowed pensively. Owed Dazai for what? “I don’t remember makin’ a bet with ya…”

“Not a bet,” Dazai let out a frustrated sigh. “Listen, you owe me.”

“And I’m askin’ for what!” Chuuya’s hat slipped off of his head as he stood up suddenly, the wine in his glass sloshing as he glared down at the usually-taller brunet.

Dazai chugged the rest of his glass. He’d never been a wine-guy, much preferring a nice scotch to Chuuya’s choice of alcohol, so he stuck out his tongue in distaste after the liquid passed his throat. The sight of Dazai’s disgust made Chuuya grit his teeth. If he doesn’t like it, then he should drink something else!

The two were completely plastered. With Chuuya being a lightweight and Dazai finishing off a few bottles on his own, it was destined to happen at some point. Because of their inebriated states, the shorter of the two misheard what Dazai had poorly slurred out after downing his drink. “One more time?” He asked, still unsure what made Dazai so angry with him.

Dazai’s cheeks flushed pink, and not just from the alcohol. How dare this slug make him repeat himself? “You heard me!”

“Did you say— “

“Yes!”

Chuuya’s mouth opened to an understanding o-shape: so he had said your name. “Okay, but, why do I owe you my expensive wines?”

Dazai grabbed the neck of the wine bottle before standing up himself, towering over the ginger. “Whatever! I don’t even wanna be here!”

“I’m not kicking you out, you moron! Just don’t know why you’re actin’ like this!” His hand reached out to grab Dazai’s shoulder, stopping him from leaving.

“You’re pulling them away from me,” he turned to Chuuya with a pout. “You two are always together acting all buddy-buddy. What do you have that I don’t? Why don’t they like me?”

Glass shattered on Chuuya’s nicely wooden office floor, swearing to himself as the wine within the glass splashed up on his shoes and the legs of his nice desk chair. He was too drunk to be embarrassed over dropping his drink, still shocked someone so smart could be so stupid. “D-Dazai, you’re a moron!” He sputters out, jumping away quickly to grab a broom.

“Yeah,” Dazai sits back on his seat with a sad and defeated smile. “I guess I am a moron.” He takes a big swig from the expensive bottle, finishing off the last few drops. The bandaged man’s eyes closed, letting the now empty bottle fall from his hand and onto his lap.

He barely notices Chuuya kneel back down by the desk, gently using a towel to suck up all the wine in between the broken glass pieces. Just as he begins to brush the shards to the side (he’d clean up properly tomorrow), he looked over to see Dazai’s somber look.

“I know what you’re thinkin’,” Chuuya sighs. “I’m not sayin’ you’re a moron for thinking you have a chance with them. You’re a moron for thinking I do.”

Dazai rolls his eyes. The last thing he wanted was Chuuya’s pity. “Hey,” he grabbed the empty bottle again, shaking it in front of the ginger’s face. “We’re outta wine.”

“We?” He scoffed in reply before continuing. “I’m bein’ serious, Dazai. They’re pretty much in love with you. We talk a lot because they’re nervous you’re gonna figure out their secret. Always tellin’ me about how perceptive and smart you are… Makes me sick, honestly.”

No one knows Dazai as well as Chuuya, and same with the inverse. Dazai knew Chuuya wouldn’t lie about something like this to him, especially after recognizing that he was being vulnerable for a tiny moment. Realiing this, Dazai’s heart fluttered. He turned to look at his rival with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, not saying a word as he silently pleaded for Chuuya to be telling the truth.

“Stop lookin’ at me like that, mackerel. They like you. Dunno why, but it’s true.”

Fumbling with his discarded coat, Dazai stands up abruptly. The wine bottle tumbles towards the floor, causing to Chuuya to panic and quickly catch it. “I need to see them!”

“Sit down, asshole!” He gently puts the empty bottle on his desk, letting out a huff of annoyance. “You’re shitfaced, y’know. Sober up. Talk to ‘em tomorrow.”

Dazai’s heart was beating out of his chest. How could he wait until tomorrow to talk with you? All he wanted in that moment was to hold you close - feel the warmth of your skin, bury his face into the crook of your neck, tell you how much you mean to him and how much you are his…

“Hey, drink some water, ‘kay? Whatever you’re thinking, remember they’re probably asleep right now.”

He groaned in annoyance. What does chibi know, anyway? Chin resting against the wooden desk once more, Dazai’s eyes shut in defeat. “Okay…

“...do they really like me?” He opened one eye for a moment, gazing over once again to see if Chuuya was being honest.

“More than they’ve ever liked anyone, apparently.”

A big grin pulled at his lips once Chuuya spoke, smile barely contained as his non-bandaged eye shut again.

ddeeeEEER 😭 you have me clutching my chest dying from ur fluff good LORD

i'll be the first to ask for the rest of what you wrote post that shit NOW this is a threat/j

ouggggh ur dazai makes me want to squash him and blend him up and smash him into bits

butt anywho happy thanksgiving!!

-🩵

uefiuhseufh THANK YOU 🩵ANON!!!! i wrote these literally seconds after "pt1" but didn't wanna clog ppls feeds w thousands of kissing hcs um oops

PT1

(not necessary to read, just more silly ideas)

15!Dazai who, whether it's you who leans in first or him, gets so overwhelmed. The rush of emotions and warmth he's never been shown causes him to panic, which makes him push you away! (Quite harshly at that..) He doesn't mean to but omg Dazai is just SO not used to affection and comfort that the warm fluttery feeling in his chest makes him sick to his stomach. Processing these feelings makes him feel flustered and sheepish and AHH!!!!! It's too much!!! He'd avoid you so horribly after he's so stupid, ducking into other hallways or using his hands to physically cover his face (very obvious to poor you!!) all so he didn't have to acknowledge the fact that you made him feel different. It'd probably take Chuuya yelling at him for his stupidity for him to realize he really really likes you! And that feeling is actually good!!!

PM!Dazai who's cocky and knows exactly what he wants; He's the demon prodigy for a reason. This Dazai is an asshole who kisses you without warning - no "I'm interested in you" or slow lean in or anything - just cuts you off with a long kiss that takes your breath away before he moves back. He'll tease you for being "so in love with him, as many are," before waving his hand dismissively and leaving. Dazai is a total jerk so when you ask if this means he likes you, he denies it: just saying that he knew you liked him and thought he'd be generous and give you your first and last kiss with him. Dazai flaunts a pretty smile and leans suspiciously close as he says this before immediately leaving under the guise of some meeting he's definitely lying about. He'd start doing things to draw your attention to his lips after this just to mess with you - putting on chapstick and the like. PM!Dazai would love to see you get frustrated and annoyed with his antics but not do anything, knowing it'd only make it worse. grrr biting scratching clawing i need him gone

ADA!Dazai who's anxious. He's so totally in love with you and is overwhelmed by it all! His eyes sting and his throat turns dry, a sign that he feels like crying, but he just stands there at the sight of you. You 'd be the one to initiate it first, an anxious look on your face as you pull back to a ghostly white Dazai standing frigid. The thought of oh fuck, did I overstep? leads to you apologize profusely. Once he finally gets his breath back (you feeling downright horrible with every moment he's silent), Dazai practically hangs off of you, pathetically gripping onto your arm with both of his and holding you close. You ask if this means he likes you back but he still can't speak, just burying his head into the crook of your neck. Give him time, he's still working through everything!!!! It's been a long time since he has actually liked someone, especially so deeply, so it's hard for him to come to terms with it :( He just wants to be near you but he can't find the words to express that just yet. Being vulnerable is so scary!

Beast!Dazai who gets horrifically drunk. How else could he manage all of the things he has to go through? Just knowing he could never confide in Oda like he once has leads him to throwing back drink after drink... Until he ends up on your doorstep. He'd wanted to keep you at arms length, to stop you from following him down the dark road he was paving, but with a few too many drinks in him he found he didn't care. You let him in right away, more than happy to pour him a glass of water and let him crash on your couch for the night. Before you could even turn towards your kitchen, he pulled you in for a passionate kiss, full of love and need and every feeling he has felt for you across lifetimes. The kiss would last a minute or so before Dazai would pull away, hugging you tightly and making you promise him that you'd never leave him, even if he makes horrible decisions and drives everyone else away — you are his, remember? In every life.

first time kissing with the sillies… ada!dazai is defo more experienced and pleasant, but kissing pmzai would be so awkward, giggly and full of teeth

shidjeicbwichwkcbsjbcjebdjehcjcbe biting scratching chewing going crazy jumping up and down

PT2 (kinda)

15!Dazai would be so inexperienced and childish fhuisehfu hold on lemme do smth .

“Haah!~” Dazai leaned back as he let out a huge breath of air, face bright red with a big grin on his face. His reaction made you flustered, not expecting such a dramatic response to a little kiss (even from Dazai).

It had been very heat of the moment: a sudden and quick press of your lips on his (could it even be described as a kiss?) to celebrate the two of you becoming official partners - dating. Two seasoned mafiosos were acting like giddy children just from holding hands for the first time and telling each other how they felt.

And now, Dazai had his face buried in his hands, working hard to try and steady his heart rate. “You— th-that— ” It was rare to see Dazai so speechless, causing your own face to heat up as you stepped back.

“Sorry sorry sorry!” It was reflexive the way you apologized, one hand over your mouth and the other gripping your shirt just above your heart.

“Don’t you dare apologize!” He finally looked back up at you from his hands, huge grin still plastered on his lips as he grabbed you by your hands. “D-do it again!”

LET 15!DAZAI BE A KID 🗣️🗣️🗣️ he’d be so silly and EXPECTANT that greedy jerk.. The second you give him one (1) small kiss, he’s all over you begging for more. But god forbid you ask for a kiss, then he’s teasing you about how you want him so badly and you’re sooo pathetic and whipped for him— he’s the worst!!!! And he will not work on it!

PM!Dazai would be, like anon said, still a little awkward, but definitely more put together. He’d be anxious to initiate, looking anywhere other than you as he tried to figure out the best way to go about it. Probably some experience with kissing would be under his belt by this point, so it wouldn’t be just a peck on the lips: He’d be a bit more committed, but still pull away after only a few moments just to see how you’d react.

When you showed signs of reciprocation and wanting more, Dazai would just pull you back in once again, smiling and giggling as he refused to let your lips leave his this time. His eyes would be screwed shut so tightly, hands resting awkwardly on your biceps and squeezing gently… He just doesn’t want to let go!!! Once you basically pry him off with a crowbar, he’s flushed and heady, turning away from you and letting out a groan. He’s embarrassed a little bit by his actions, but turns back around once again so he can tease you (common across all Dazais). It’s his way of trying to get you to say you enjoyed it :( so tell him he is a very good kisser and you like him very much so he can grin proudly and tell everyone that his partner says he’s an amazing kisser!!! (Even if you technically didn't!!)

ADA!Dazai would be smug but needy, pulling you in for kiss after kiss. You’d part away after the first one, ready to hear some teasing remark or cocky retort, only to find his lips back on yours once again. One hand would move to hold your waist gently, the second holding you in place cupping your cheek as he’d press more and more upon your lips. The soft feeling of your lips on his causes his whole body to tingle, barely aware of how many times he’s pulled you back in as you let out a small chuckle. He does not care, just repeating the process over and over and over—

“Dazai!” You’d yelp, lightly chastising him. It's punctuated with a giddy giggle that Dazai loves the sound of.

He’d gaze at you adoringly, eyes half lidded and smiling with his cheeks pink. With a teasing tone, he'd reply, “You sayin' you want me to stop?”

And he’d be kissing you again before you could reply. All Dazais are the type to chase your lips after a kiss, but ADA!Dazai in particular is terrible about it. There is never just one kiss with him, even if he promises that’s all in between whines! Do not give in!!!!! You’ll be stuck all day :(

“There are worse places to be trapped, right?”

Beast!Dazai… ougghhh. His first kiss with you would be so somber, like he knows what he’s condemning you to by allowing the both of you to remain in close proximity. It’s slow and almost cold, the way he gently presses his hands into your sides and lets out a heavy breath against your lips, eyes shut tiredly. It’s solemn, but also peaceful - the only time Dazai can just sit with everything he has to do. He’d pull away slowly, a sad smile on his face as he sees your flustered look and wide eyes…

Your last kiss with him is almost worse. It’s needy: hands moving everywhere they can and eyes shut so tightly as he prays to be anywhere else, be anyone else while pouring every emotion that fills him to the brim right onto your lips. He’d mutter an apology right before and so many words of gratitude right after. You cup his face gently, asking him what was wrong, but Dazai would just pull away, leaving you all alone.

someone ask me to do this again bc i've already written more ideas

The cool, marble countertops send a shiver up your spine, but you don't seem to care. Instead of complaints, a giggle leaves your mouth, hands tightening around Dazai's shoulders. Feeling him scoop you up and set you onto the kitchen counter so easily made you swoon, which only deepened the make out session you two were currently engaged in. His hands kept moving from your hips to your ass, wanting to feel your body under his fingers as he held you close.

You both couldn't help giggling, feeling giddy at the touches and kisses being shared during such early hours. Pajama shorts riding up your thighs, a stretched-out and loose t-shirt showing off Dazai's bare neck and collar bones... it was all so intimate. There was no one around, just the two of you and the early morning sun dancing across the room as your legs moved up to cage Dazai in. More giggles erupted from him before pulling back, cutely flushed cheeks on display for just you to see. No words were shared, just heavy breaths and loving stares as your brains worked on properly waking up.

“Y’know, maybe I should skip work today.”

“You said the same thing yesterday, Osamu.”

hello deery, back like i promised lmao

as much as i love silly goofy buddy dazai, deluded possessive and lowkey scary dazai is my fav 🙏 he's such a silly guy with reader, then turns right around and destroys their entire life. then hes like :O omg thats so horrible, so what im hearing is you have more time to spend with me? seeing as all your friends left for reasons unknown, your family wont even look at you. but dw, i'll never leave :)

BWHAHA im not good at this stuff, but your characterization of dazai is my fav in general, such versatility, we love to see it

have a great day :D

-🩵 anon

HES MY least FAVE TOO ugh 🩵anon you get me

“I’m sorry, lovely. That’s so horrible…” Dazai’s knuckles softly rub against your jaw, his skin soothing you as you try to halt your tears.

“It just— ” you hiccup, “ —just feels like everyone’s leaving me!”

The brunet pulls you closer, practically sitting in his lap as his hands move around your torso. “Shh, shh…” He gently wipes away your remaining tears, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

You let out an embarrassed chuckle before nodding. “You’re the only one. Not even my boss wanted me around, I can tell. It’s like she was waiting for me to mess up so she could fire me.”

“That’s not true…”

“How would you know?” The words were genuine, like you were looking for him to explain that it was the work of fate or your shitty coworker you always complained about.

Well, it's because Dazai was the one to get you fired. Your boss was too fond of you, something he simply couldn't have. Plus, work hours always took up your time, time that should be spent with him. Honestly, you didn't need a job, anyway: Dazai would be happy to provide for you and make you dependent on him.

Instead of explaining any of this, he pressed another kiss to your head before pulling you in for a tight hug. “You’re a hard worker. And you’re a wonderful person. If none of your friends want to be in your life, well, I do. So I guess you’ll just have to spend time with me.”

It’s his attempt at lightening the mood, you’re sure of it. A chuckle passes your lips before you can stop it, shifting in his hold so you can hug him back just as tightly. “You’re all I have, so now you’re stuck with me.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

oh he’s the worst i need him

he’ll cradle you so sweetly, telling you alllll the good things about yourself!!!

n when you get all confident and hey! maybe you are good enough, maybe you should look into making new friends! ones that won’t leave you so easily 🙄

well,

he’s there to remind you just how heartbroken your last ones left you. your very own flesh and blood cut you out so easily! maybe dazai is the only one who can truly love you for who you are.

he’s not saying it to be mean! he just wants you to know what you’re getting yourself into. he’s always been so smart, too…. well, you guess he’s right.

if you’re a bit more stubborn or masochistic, maybe you don’t gaf!!! put you back in the ring you wanna try again!!!!!

ugh. okay. i mean, dazai did so much for you... y’know, when you lost your job and he insisted let you move in with him, dazai was trying to be a good friend, but... whatever, if you don’t need him anymore than you can just get your own place. oh, you still haven’t found a job? well, since you’re so sure of yourself, you can just get a new one. you can be out by tomorrow, right? you know dazai would’ve liked to go out and make friends during the time he’s been working to keep a roof above the both of your heads and keeping you company after everyone left you. maybe he’s starting to see why they did, since you’re so selfish— 

...

you decided not to go out!

that’s probably when he realizes he should begin moving your relationship along a bit quicker. he’ll flirt with you in the exact way he knows you respond to best (whether that's words of affirmation, teasing, physical touch, etc); he'll bring you back pastries and cute trinkets he saw on his way home from work… his courting is a little eerie, bc he also acts like you two are already dating???? "you're staying in my home, of course i assumed we'd be having dinner tonight. i even learned to cook your favorite— " like he 100% just assumes shit but it always works out bc . well, what else were you doing?

this includes sharing a bed btw. he probably started w having you take his and he takes the couch (a true gentleman) and then maybe he gets another bed and makes a guest room for you... but, well, since you both are so close and it's so cold in his apartment, maybe you can just spend one night with him? It Was Not One Night

if you catch on and reciprocate, oh he's over the moon!!!! his love giving him affection? oughhh.. you're staying in his room in his arms and he's just breathing you in, reminding himself you're still there... it'd be actually kinda sweet if he didn't orchestrate this whole thing

if you catch on (or don't lmao) and deny him? .............

desperate times desperate measures or whatever they say

he locks you in his room for mandatory cuddles, will not give you food if you stick to one side of the room and refuse to let him hold you, he starts pulling away and spewing words he knows will hurt you so you feel so alone and unloved only to turn around and love bomb you.... it's horrific tbh

i'm so sorry . just... go along w it for now pls ❤️

also i mentioned that he'd bring up how you don't have a job and he's the one working hard to pay for your expenses but he's just being a brat. he caught you looking at help wanted ads one time and pretty much cried in your lap about how upset he is that you don't feel his care is adequate enough and only stopped when you promised not to get another job

he's gross :( get out of there

Matching bolo ties with Dazai!! Other couples have matching bracelets or keychains but why not matching mental illnesses 😎

doing this in hcs hope that's fine!!! love u anon

“oh whoa! look at these matching couples bracelets for sale, darling! aren’t they so cute?” “look! that couple has matching necklaces, how sweet!” “oh, i don’t want these matching keychains, just pointing them out to you because it’s cute!”

…

he gifted you yours!

but not in person bc that’s so scary omg

he left it on your kitchen counter one morning before leaving for work

dazai was so excited to see you wearing it the next time you were together!!!

seeing the blue gem wrapped around your neck as you greeted him warmed his heart ❤️

he plays it off like a joke, saying that he thought it’d be funny to match like other couples do bracelets or keychains. he says you don’t have to wear it but please don’t take him seriously!!!

if you take it off dazai will be DEVASTATED. he hides it really well bc he’s him but ouuugh he reads it as you not loving him :( or being embarrassed of him!!! omg you took it off because you actually plan to leave him like everyone else ??? you don’t want people to associate you with him ????? omg

even though it would destroy him, every time he sees you with it on he tells you that you don’t have to and probably teases you for being so whipped for him (even though it’s 100% the other way around)

he takes total pride in matching with you!!!! when kunikida points it out he’s all “oh so you’re jealous? sorry you don’t have a lovely partner to match with!”

atsushi compliments the matching set and he BEAMS!!!! smiles so brightly for the rest of the day and even into the next!

he uses it to tug you closer to him to kiss you!! he knows it gets your heart racing both from the fear and suddenness of it but also bc awww his lips on yours n he smells like comfort and— oh now he’s gone. hm

he’s so commitment issues to me so it’s kinda his way of staking claim over you :)) his hand brushes over it when you talk with someone else he doesn’t trust or he’ll reach over and “polish” it with his bandages or sleeves or his SPIT if that person Will Not Back Off.

i can imagine him starting to keep those soft glasses cleaning fabric squares in his pockets just for the above scenario 😭

he just loves that you match him! starts pointing out matching things other couples have - not to try and drop hints like last time but to mutter that ours is better while all pouty :( now he thinks he Owns “matching accessories w your s/o” someone come get this man shaking my head….

all in all i think he’d be very cute about it! it’s not something he explicitly states or asks for but it makes him very happy :)

imagine one day his breaks on a mission and he’s so distraught and uncomfortable and anxious all day :( he comes home to you after by breaking into your apartment almost holding back tears as he explains what happens :(

you have to hold him close and say it’s okay, you aren’t mad, he’ll be fine…

try offering yours for him to wear while it gets fixed! (he’s a little suspicious… why are you so eager to not wear yours?……) but dazai says you can wrap your wrist in his bandages like a makeshift bracelet just for the time being!! so he still has that claim on you while his gets fixed

but now. how would you look wrapped all up in his bandages? oh you’re so cute!! so his ❤️

maybe you can wear his shirt to match! ooh ooh how about the coat as well! you look like a mini him when you’ve got the white pants on, too!

it’s a slippery slope anon. stay safe out there.

he just wants everyone to know you’re his at first glance! is that too much to ask?

i like to think dazai would be like the textbook definition of cheesy in a relationship. ik it’s a popular hc people have for him to be noncommittal and not a good partner but i honestly think he wouldn’t be as bad at being a partner as some people think (but i do respect the hc’s and the angst is always well written) i just personally think he’s super whipped for his s/o and obsessed to the point everyone else is who now??

HEUIHFSH SAME pathetically smitten dazai is my FAVORITEEE uurrggg .... he’s so pathetic loser........ this is why i love dazai he’s so versatile :) i need him pathetic crying over me and i need him unable to say he loves me at all oooouh ..,

His feet nudged yours under the desks once again. You looked up at him with a curious glance, waiting to see why he needed your attention, but no such answer came. Dazai merely continued to gaze at you, lovesick written all over his face as it started turning red. They're looking at me! ran through his head, almost forgetting that he had nudged you in the first place.

"What are you doing, you moron?" Kunikida spoke angrily, annoyed Dazai was blowing off his work once more.

"Staring at my partner. They're so pretty, don't you think?" His words made you smile, which caused him to melt all over again. "See? See!? Ahh, love... Your smile could light up the whole city of Yokohama. If you weren't already mine, I'd tell you to use your powers for good. But I couldn't live with myself if you had to go away!"

Kunikida's face contorted in confusion. "Go away..? What are you blabbering on about this time?"

"Once the government learns my darling's smile can rejuvenate and revitalize people they'll put them to work!" He pouts. "I'll never get to see them again when they're out saving lives!" He throws his head back dramatically, hand draping over his heart.

While your blond coworker groaned in annoyance—mainly at himself for asking—you merely chuckled. "That's alright. I wouldn't want to be away from you for long, either."

Dazai gasped, standing up suddenly. "You mean it?! Ohhh, how you just warmed my heart!~ My lovely partner wants to stay by my side! Kunikida, trade desks with me!"

"What, no! Why?!"

"I need to sit next to my beloved! If we're apart, I can't get any work done!"

"You can't get any work done, anyway!"

yk sometimes pm!dazai or ada!dazai takes off his trench coat and he only has his button up and waistcoat on? (its giving slay ngl) so maybe if he had a partner he’d occasionally lend his darling his coat because it’s cute and vv silly…

his coat pocket would have the weirdest things too: a crumpled page of the suicide book, a piece of bandaged that has yellowed due to oxidization, dog food etc

in my head im like how Dare he tarnish his beloved suicide book but that mf probably has 12 more copies at home lmao

I feel like instead of dog food he'd keep cat food for the street kitties that wander up to him :( he'd give them little pets and laugh so softly and sincerely as their heads bury into his coat pockets!!! He's all "You must've smelled the treats, hm? It's a good thing I keep them on hand for smart kitties like you," as he gently pushes them away so he can dig his hand in there to feed them rrgggg

PM!Dazai was shocked to see you shivering beside him. He was usually the one to get cold before you, and yet he found himself practically overheating in his black coat as he pulled it off his shoulders - at least that’s what he told you. Practically turning blue, you weren’t in any position to decline as he plopped it on your shoulders.

You immediately stuffed your hands in the pockets, trying to warm up your frozen fingers so they could move again. After a moment, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you turned slowly to look at the brunet.

“Dazai…”

“Yes, love?” He sends you a large grin, a teasing lilt in his tone.

You deadpanned, clearly unamused. “Your cold ass hand is not helping.”

His fingers intertwined with yours, his grin only growing as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll take my coat back if you’re gonna be ungrateful,” he stuck his tongue out.

You smirked before pulling Dazai in close, wrapping the coat around him as well by wrapping your arms around him. “I’d never be ungrateful to my lovely Dazai! C’mon, I’ll keep you warm, too.”

“But I’m not cold— “

“I felt your freezing hand, Dazai; You aren’t fooling me.”

ADA!Dazai doesn’t need a reason to give you his coat. You look cute, and he wants to help you look cuter. Reason enough, right?

The two of you were lounging around working at the agency, with you focused on the report Kunikida had politely asked you to take care of. Dazai had been on the opposite side of the room at his own desk, coat draped behind him on his chair as he stared at you. His face was resting in the palms of his hand, leaning forward on his desk to get a better look at you.

Wow…

The way the setting sun came in from the window to light up your face had Dazai perfectly silent, mesmerized by you and your beauty. A loud sneeze came from you, whole face scrunching up as your elbow covered your nose briefly. Your sincere apology before immediately going back to your work had Dazai holding back coos, just wanting to hold you close and dote on you in the moment. He stood up, heading over to your side of the room and standing behind you. His coat was draped over his arm, the fabric rubbing against you he leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

“You must be getting a cold, hm?” He draped his beige trench coat over your shoulders, pulling your arms away from the report and stuffing them through the sleeves.

The action had you laughing, caught off guard as he pretty much dressed you in his coat. “You alright, Dazai?”

“Mhm, just wanted to keep you warm as your thoughtful boyfriend.” He leaned his body onto you, arms draped around your shoulders and chin digging into your head.

“Wow, you’re so sweet,” you replied sarcastically. Of course you knew he just wanted to see you wearing his oversized coat. “What would I do without you?”

Your hands slipped into the big pockets, letting out a soft chuckle as you pulled out crumpled up papers. “Do you keep these on hand?” You ask teasingly, reading the many ways to die as you flattened out the pages. In the margins were notes he must’ve scribbled down, many of which are just your name with little hearts scratched around them.

Dazai quickly snatched the pages from you, shoving them in the pockets of his white pants instead. “That’s nothing you need to worry about, love.”

just thought of the most rom-com scenario ever. reader is the new hire for the ADA and immediately off the bat, dazai is dazai. reader just takes it as the typical sense of humor and just laughs it off, thinking he’s not actually interested considering his many various ventures. eventually the two of them are assigned to missions quite often (with atsushi as a third wheel) and the two get along great in terms of humor, personality, work in the field… it boggles atsushi’s mind that the two of them aren’t at least going on ONE date. one night dazai tells him in a drunken stupor over the phone he has feelings for y/n but doesn’t want to ruin what they have. y/n ends up telling atsushi they don’t know what to do if they keep getting missions with dazai because one of these days they may slip up due to him just BEING there. he ends up confiding in both yosano and kunikida about it when the two are out of the office and they both just go “y/n and HIM??? anyone deserves better than THAT” but yosano means it in a more teasing way and kunikida means it in a serious way because. kunikida. thus begins a quest for atsushi; to bring the two together, and it drives him NUTS because the two both don’t think the other likes them. dazai assumes y/n would rather have interest in any other guy and y/n assumes dazai would rather have interest in any other person. this ends up with many funny scenarios such as:

1. atsushi leaving a note on dazai’s desk that reads “i want to talk to you in the hallway at __ time today.” and leaving an identical one on y/n’s desk so they can cross paths outside of working together and possibly start a convo and go somewhere. it backfired and the two just say “weird coincidence. everyone must’ve got this!” and wave bye

2. atsushi trying to subtly tell dazai y/ns favorite flower and he just says “oh, that’s great! are you getting them a birthday present early or something”

3. even kunikida being forced into trying to help by asking dazai if he is interested in hanging out with him and y/n (so he can pretend to end up being sick and it would just be dazai and y/n) and dazai saying “oh, is this some sort of elaborate scheme you’re planning on order to have a date with y/n and so it won’t be awkward with just the two of you? i’ll pretend to be sick when it happens for you!” LIKE GOD DAMM DAZAI STOP BEING INSECURE ITS YOU BOY?!

basically stuff like that goes on so much to the point where when the ADA is out celebrating a successful year of missions at a karaoke bar atsushi just yells out over the mic: “I HAVE HAD ENOUGH THIRD WHEELING HERE!!!!! Y/N AND DAZAI YOU BOTH likeeachother-“ and they’re just. WHAT

(SORRY FOR ALL THE TEXT LMFAO)

anon you literally wrote this for me idek what to say you’re so cool

Atsushi’s eyes widened. “What?! I can’t go on this mission, I have, um… an appointment.” Nailed it. “Dazai can take my place! He’s not doing anything right now.” Normally, Kunikida would have pointed out this obvious lie, but he remained quiet - pretty much everyone in the agency knew what he was up to.

Dazai actually was doing something for the first time in a while, but surely this mission was much more important. The brunet took off with you, headed out on an actually very unimportant mission you definitely could’ve taken care of on your own while Atsushi planned.

The tiger boy was quick to tell you and Dazai upon your return about tonight’s important karaoke celebration! And when you tried to weasel your way out of it, Yosano had practically dragged you down to the place. You were ushered next to Dazai as Atsushi and Yosano chose songs for everyone to sing. They said it was to make sure Dazai didn't pick something depressing or you would try to bail out again - this way, everyone had to go. But also... this way, you and Dazai would be stuck singing a romantic duet.

Of course, the two of you took it horribly wrong (in Atsushi's opinion), you both fully committing to the "joke song" Atsushi selected, wholly pretending in the moment. He'd wanted some romantic moment where you two realized you were destined to be together, but you both are just so stupid—

Atsushi had been up next, and was gripping the microphone tightly. He wasn't one to let his anger take over, but this was just getting ridiculous. As the opening notes played to the song he chose, he shouted out your deepest secret, and Dazai's as well.

You both like each other.

With slack jaws and wide eyes, every agency member stared at Atsushi in shock. He'd turned pink as he realized his mistake, muttering apologies as he placed the mic back down. Tense silence filled the air, the only sound being the scraping of Ranpo's spoon along the ceramic ice cream dish he'd ordered.

After a moment, Yosano started clapping. "Someone had to say it, and we all knew they wouldn't."

The rest of karaoke was horribly awkward for you and Dazai. You'd moved ever so slightly away from each other, completely embarrassed. What if Atsushi had just made up that Dazai likes you back? What if Atsushi had just made up that you like Dazai back? All either of you knew is that he had yelled out your biggest secret, and neither of you were too excited to sing anymore.

The lights had been turned on and everyone was gathering their things. It had been a fun night out, all things considered. Yosano got completely hammered and Ranpo couldn't direct his way home if his life were at stake, so Kunikida and Atsushi led the both of them back to their homes (with Kyouka right on Atsushi's tail). The Tanizaki siblings had left a bit before everyone for whatever their reasons were, so just you and Dazai were left standing outside the karaoke bar, awkwardly gazing out at the quiet city.

"So... tonight was different, huh?" You spoke anxiously, picking at a loose thread on your top.

"I didn't expect Ranpo to be that good a singer," Dazai replies with a polite smile.

You sighed. The last thing you wanted was for things to turn awkward between the two of you. "Listen, Dazai— "

"Do you want to walk home with me?" He cut you off.

You smiled softly, letting out a small chuckle. "Of course."

rock band member dazai where he’s often in the media for drama between him and his previous ex band partner and you happen to run into him (anonymously!) on a chatting app. eventually his “personal conflicts “ he tells you about him and a ex friend start to align a lot with a certain famous singer’s tabloid scandals, so you bite the bullet and ask if it’s him or if he is just going through the same exact specific events dazai is. he ends up revealing his identity and you end up getting backstage tickets to his shows and he ends up just as obsessed with you as you are (chuuya is pissed that somehow that shitty dazai got a partner before him)

its u.

Dazai’s heart rate picked up at the two grammatically incorrect words that popped up in his notifications. You’d been so close to figuring it out for weeks; Was today finally the day?

wdym

Right: play dumb. There’s no guarantee you figured out who he is, so he just needs to stay calm.

Sure, week after week he’d tell you stories from his life that popped up in magazines and circulated around online the next day or so, always causing you to come back and flaunt it in his face that your favorite guitarist had done it “bigger and better” (even though the stories were the exact same). You frequently pointed out similarities in them (being him and… himself) to the point where he almost saved and told you several times, but something always held him back. Maybe he should just finally rip the bandage off.

A photo message came in. It was a screenshot - a screenshot of a picture Dazai had sent you. In the background had a bright red circle around something small. He zoomed in, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Couldn’t you just type it out? What a hassle - oh.

Yeah, he should’ve listened when his manager told him to pick it up and display it properly.

The image was a bird’s eye view of his hand, flashing his fresh coat of nail polish and his rather messy wooden floors (and his cute orange halloween socks). Nothing too damning upon first glance. Sure, you’d mentioned that your favorite band’s guitarist had painted his nails the same color, but that was mere coincidence, right?

No. Because this lazy moron couldn’t put things away, in the top left corner of the photo - the area circled in red - showed an opened package with the platinum record his band was gifted for their most popular song. Why would he have that if not a member of the band himself?

He looked up from his phone blankly, staring at the package still nestled on the side of his room. The only difference from the photo is that it had been pushed slightly to the side since then, stopping him from tripping over it. What a stupid mistake; Dazai had always been much more careful than this (except when he wasn't).

dude

u let me gush to u ab URSELF????

im embarrassed

Dazai smiled. Well, at least things weren’t awkward.

It had been a few months and you and Dazai were happy to talk in person now that he didn’t have to hide his face. You’d been backstage at many of his shows, meeting his bandmates and spending time in person. It had honestly been so much fun, but sometimes Dazai missed the cat and mouse game he’d been playing when you were unsure of his identity - back when you texted him rumors and articles about his own life, saying how crazy it was that your favorite artist went through the same things as him.

He’d woken up earlier than he wanted to due to the myriad of calls blowing up his phone. “What..” He grumbled, not even bothering to check caller ID. “Who is this?”

“You asshole! You got a fucking partner before I did? And they’re hot, too! No way they settled for you,” Chuuya continued to grumble while Dazai put him on speaker phone, tuning him out. Whatever he was yapping about didn’t matter once he noticed a notification from you.

do u know this guy? he seems to be goin thru the same things u r…

A link is included, leading Dazai to an article with a picture of him and you. The first thing he notices is how smitten he looks with you, causing him to blush very faintly as he smiles to himself. Is that really what he looks like around you?

Rockstar Dazai Osamu Finds New Fling - Or Maybe More?

More, definitely more.

“Are you listening, asshole?” Chuuya shouted from his speaker. “How’d ya get a partner before me?”

Dazai smiled, saving the paparazzi shot onto his phone. “My height, definitely.”

i randomly thought of pm!dazai and ada!reader and……

You shifted uncomfortably on the wooden seat, hands fiddling with the hem of the black tablecloth. Dread isn't strong enough to describe what you felt leading up to this.

"You haven't even looked at the menu, darling," Dazai smirked across from you, a glimmer of amusement in his eye.

Without your usual aggressively crude retort that always had Dazai holding back laughter, you timidly picked up the fancy, leather bound menu - hands now fiddling with the thick string keeping it sewed together rather than the tablecloth. Your gaze was thoughtless, barely registering the exorbitant dishes listed alongside exorbitant wines.

The bandaged man sighed, his frown a clear indication of his annoyance, but kept his mouth shut.

You thought back to the president’s plea with you the day before. He hadn’t expressly told you to play nice with the executive of your rival organization (he wasn’t that kind of man), but the way he asked you to stay calm and remain vigilant told you all you needed to know. Furrowed brows pointed down at the menu allowed Dazai to read your frustration.

The two of you had done nothing more than trade blows on the battlefield — usually to Dazai’s success — and yet he’d appeared at the agency one day to ask for permission to court you. Had he not been your enemy, you would have considered it sweet, dismissing that the bouquet of daisies he brought came stolen from the flowerpots of the café below. He was anxiously fiddling with the white petals, panic in his gaze when he’d accidentally pull one off the flowers. The dangerous demon prodigy of the mafia you’d been warned against time and time again was utterly smitten with you to a pitiful degree.

He seemed to have cleaned up his act since then, smirking confidently at you while leaning back in his chair across the table. Shifting, he moved forward just enough to gently push your menu down, following the action with a soft, “Hey.”

You looked up at him, taking his place as the nervous one between the two. Having succeeded in gaining your attention, Dazai rested his chin on the palms of both hands, continuing to lean in towards you.

“You’re uncomfortable.”

It wasn’t a question, merely an observation, and yet you replied as though it were. “I’m not.”

Still no witty retort. The thought caused Dazai to sigh once more, but his grin remained the same. “If you didn’t want to go on a date, why did you agree?” His tone was nonchalant, a slight shrug punctuating his question as he leans back comfortably once again, but you knew better. His finger running over the rim of his empty wine glass, gaze shifting from you to down at the table for a moment too long…

“You know why,” you choose to reply, not mentioning his nervous demeanor.

Of course Dazai knew why.

“Have you two had enough time to look over the wine menu?” A cute waitress stood at the edge of your table, a polite smile on her face and hands clasped together behind her back professionally.

Silence held still for a moment too long before you decided to speak up. “No, sorry, not quite— “

“We won’t need to.” He quietly folded up the separate wine menu, handing it back to the waitress. Your brief moment of shock quickly turned to disdain as he continued. “The bottle that should have arrived this morning will do. Under Dazai,” He spoke cockily.

This motherfucker had a bottle of wine flown in for this. He asked you out the day before, so how long has he had this planned out?

The waitress politely took the wine menu from him, her eyes lighting up momentarily as she realized who he was. “Ah, Mr. Dazai! We’ll have that out for you shortly. Our owner wanted me to commend you on your great taste. It’s a shame she couldn’t be here in person.”

A dismissive wave of his hand sends the waitress away, leaving to grab whatever bottle he specifically ordered.

“What’s the occasion?” You spoke distastefully, forgetting yourself for a moment. Instead of tripping over your words to save the moment, you just let out a low breath and waited for him to respond.

“Why, it’s to commemorate our first date. Even if you only agreed to appease me, I still want it to be special…” He trailed off, words turning soft before he cleared his throat. “You deserve only the best, darling. I ordered the most expensive wine for us tonight: a 1992 Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon. The price comes from the vastly small quantities of bottles ever produced. I had the owner track down a bottle and paid her the difference.”

“Oh, how kind,” you spoke awkwardly. “I don’t really drink, though.”

Tense, awkward silence practically stung the two of you. Dazai felt so stupid; the first time he actually likes someone, and he couldn’t even figure out what you like in preparation! Chuuya had guaranteed this bottle would impress you, but you didn’t even like wine.

Dazai stood up abruptly, his face unreadable for a moment.

“But, um, I’m fine trying it! Like you said, it should be special!” You figured your recovery attempt was poor as Dazai spun away from you, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his fancy suit pants.

“Let’s go.”

The waitress watched in shock as the two of you leave the restaurant, clutching the $500,000 bottle of wine in her hands.

You’d been following silently behind Dazai for a few minutes, and with his quick pace, your legs were starting to ache. The fancy shoes you’d donned were killing your heels - you could practically feel the blisters forming. But still, you remained quiet. What would he do now? You pretty much ruined his whole plan, told him you weren’t interested, and made him waste a bottle of wine you didn’t want to begin guessing the price of. It was a 1992 Something Eagle… What was it? You’d definitely ask Yosano when you saw her next at work.

Suddenly, Dazai stops in front of a small curry shop. The place looked cheap when compared to the restaurant you were just in, and the idea of Dazai being well versed in the place felt like a joke. You two were visibly out of place in the joint, something that only hit you as he held open the door, letting you walk inside ahead of him. The place was well kept, but clearly not a restaurant you’d wear a suit and tie to, which is what Dazai was happily flaunting in the original restaurant just a few minutes prior.

“We’ll both take the usual, please,” Dazai speaks to the man behind the counter, who happily smiles and begins dishing out two plates of curry.

Your date pulls out a chair for you at the counter, pushing it in gentlemanly once you sit down before taking the seat next to you. “Thank you” is muttered by the both of you as the bowls of curry are placed in front of you.

The only sound was the clattering of dishes as the attendant cleaned and you and Dazai ate. After a moment, he started whining, tongue sticking out as he complained about how hot it was. The view was… welcoming. It was nice to see Dazai in a state that wasn’t so perfect. You figured all the anxious fiddling you’d been exposed to earlier (and the day prior) was an act, but you were starting to view all of it as genuine. Maybe he really did just want a chance with you.

The soft laughter you let out had Dazai turning to you with hearts in his singular visible eye, cheeks red (from the spicy curry, of course) and breath still. “The infamous Demon Prodigy can’t handle his spice?” You smirked, and for the first time in two days, Dazai relaxed. That was a witty retort, wasn’t it? You were feeling more comfortable.

“Wow,” he spoke breathlessly, completely enamored with you for a moment before clearing his throat. “I mean, wow. I can’t believe you’d make fun of me for not eating spicy foods.”

You chuckled, and Dazai swore he was in heaven. He got you to laugh twice. “Honestly I'd expected someone in your position to stomach the spiciest of foods with crazy-high tolerance,” you rested your chin onto your palm, leaning in towards Dazai.

“Well, I expected you to have terrible spice tolerance, so ha.” His response was bad, but the glimmer of amusement that flickered in your eyes made him not care.

“Hey, thanks for this. I don’t much care for stuffy restaurants like that.” You took a bite, not even flinching as you swallowed the spicy curry.

“I just wished I had the foresight to take you here first.” Another silence settled between the two of you, this one much more comfortable. “And… I’m sorry. I should’ve realized you’d feel forced to accept my invitation. After today, we can go back to only seeing each other in battle.”

“Hm,” you hummed, swallowing the curry you bit into as he started talking. “Honestly, this was still one of the better dates I’ve been on, if not entirely weird. Maybe we could hang out outside of work. As friends, of course.”

“Just friends?” Dazai let out a dramatic gasp, hand over his heart as he nearly fell out of his chair. “But Romeo and Juliet were a romantic pair! How are we to take over their destinies?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but the corner of your lips quirked up in amusement. “Their destinies were to kill themselves.”

“Exactly! And how are we expected to reach that point as just friends?” Dazai whined childishly, an exaggerated pout jutting out his bottom lip.

“Maybe we can revisit the topic in the future.”

dazai probably smells like freshly washed sheets, and detergent, and comfort…

i don’t think he would get any perfumes, cologne yes but he would feel like perfumes aren’t necessary

i love him sm…

you're right anon i feel like he walked into a perfume shop one time got blasted with every smell known to man and immediately left . he does not gaf. also lowkey i imagine he smells like spilled alcohol and canned crab bc thats his morning if he remembers to eat

It has been a long weekend and Dazai was honestly excited to get back to work. As much as he messed around and pawned his work off onto others, being with the agency made him feel good — he liked helping people. Also, he missed you a little bit.

Sniff, sniff... Probably not as much as you missed him.

"You're always so warm... It's like you were taken out of the dryer right before you got here!" Your arms were dangling loosely off his shoulders, head buried into the crook of his neck. "I'm smelling you right now, by the way. Sorry if that's weird."

It is, for sure, but you two were just like that. Dazai stood quietly with a small smile on his face, letting you continue to just bask in his presence for a few minutes. It was far too early in the brunet's opinion — it was still dark out! — and right now he wanted nothing more than to just cuddle up with you on the agency's couch and go back to bed.

"It is weird. Get to work," Kunikida spoke from his desk, already sorting through his reports.

"Kunikida, you're just mad they don't want to smell you. You probably smell like frustration and grossness, where as I smell like flowers and love." Dazai bats his eyelashes teasingly towards his coworker, who mutters angrily but doesn't reply.

"Dazai, you smell like detergent. That's why I always think you just rolled in here from a dryer. It's a very fresh and comforting smell."

"Aha! Comforting; You hear that, Kunikida?"

y!dazai is such a silly little guy… i can imagine reader developing stockholm syndrome after a while (which is sadly some cases for kidnapping :( ) but maybe he had gotten bored…

YOU GET IT (silly guy) i'm on it boss 🫡

“You opened a window.”

Your metal fork clattered against the ceramic plate, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I’m sorry..?” you start, inviting him to elaborate.

“The window in our bedroom,” Dazai gently set his fork down. “It’s open.”

Silence engulfs the tiny dinner table, the food you’d spent all day cooking turning cold.

“Were you planning something?”

“No, Osamu,” your voice comes out stern, but polite: The last thing you wanted was to anger the man across from you. “I would never-“

“But you have, remember?” His eyes narrowed, not a single glimmer of mercy to be found. “Last month around this time. Is this going to be a pattern?”

Dazai hated when you didn’t reply, but you weren’t sure what to say. You hadn’t opened a window, nor were you even sure what he was referring to.

“You know what happens when you lie, right?”

“I’m not lying, Daz- Osamu. I wouldn’t leave you; You protect me.”

A long sigh escaped the brunet’s lips. As cute as you could be, he wouldn’t tolerate this behavior. “I invite you into my home, keep you fed and clothed, and this is the thanks I get? A half-baked plan covered by a less than stellar lie. You’ve done better, doll. I expect better, honestly...” Was he mad at your alleged escape or the poor lying?

“Osamu, you mean so much to me-“

“But not enough, yes? You prefer your stupid friends, all of whom up and left you when you lost your job and couldn’t afford to keep your apartment, yes? Who was there to help you?” His narrowed gaze turned harsher, a full-blown glare pointed your way. “Who?”

“Y-you were, Osamu.”

“I was.” A sip of his drink allowed for you to breathe, a moment of reprieve as his throat was too busy to reprimand you. “And after no job would hire you, I allowed you to stay, under the promise you made me that you wouldn’t leave me like everyone else has.”

“I don’t want to leave you-“

“Did I say I was finished?”

You sat up tall, frozen solid as you quickly shake your head. No, he didn’t.

“I allowed you free lodge in exchange for some simple house chores, and this is the thanks I get? A broken promise and a poorly made lasagna,” he gestures down to the dinner you’d made. It was a new recipe, sure, but you didn’t think it turned out that badly..

“I’m sorry, Osamu,” you whispered, afraid you’d break out into tears if you spoke any louder. Your throat felt dry and your body felt stiff — Honestly, a cracked window might help you to just breathe right now.

“I’ll have to punish you for this behavior, you know.”

It wasn’t a question, so you don’t respond. Dazai continues eating, legs crossed and leaning back. He was unfazed and relaxed, which makes sense — you were the one in danger.

As you stared silently down at your hands, fists anxiously gripping the fabric of your pants, Dazai smirked. Maybe he should leave the windows open more often.

haii deer i hope you are able to get all your assignments done on time! was reading your tags and aro dazai?? big brain.

so how about aro ace darling? never been in a relationship and never really want to, their friends are more than enough for them !! honestly i just wanna be aro buddies with dazai 🥹

but damn just being weirdo coworkers together, im,,, willing to look past many red flags for him 💔

YOURE JUST LIKE ME FR dazai and i are best friends and we are aro you can ask him yourself also weirdo coworkers.. you get it

"Oh, wait, so you were the latest person hired?" Atsushi's head cocked to the side, looking at you with curiosity. "How long have you been here?"

"My dear here has been with the agency for three months! You know, I was the one that brought them on board," Dazai gloated, a smug smirk on his face and a dramatic hand over his heart.

You were quick to play along, throwing a dramatic hand over your forehead as you leaned back. "Oh, my hero! What would I do without my lovely Dazai?" The sarcastic lilt in your tone didn't go unnoticed by the newest agency member, but he decided not to comment on it.

"Was it like what happened with me? Did you find Dazai drowning?" Apparently a common occurrence, Atsushi had pieced together.

Dazai denied, a smile on his face as he replied with a simple, "Nope!" A few moments of silence passed before the junior realized he wasn't going to elaborate.

Just as he opened his mouth to ask for more information, you decided to take pity on the poor soul and fill him in. "I bailed him out of a holding cell."

No one bat an eye. Atsushi looked around the office, trying to see if maybe someone was holding back laughter, but not a single one of his new coworkers were phased. Did they not hear what you said?

"He got detained for public disturbance in the middle of a case. I told Dazai he'd have to find a way to get out on his own, and he shows back up not even thirty minutes later with them in tow," Kunikida explains, frustration evident in his voice. "I was trying to teach him a lesson."

"I was in the area," you shrug.

"Yeah, being detained as well..."

"I was being released from detainment, actually!" You correct Kunikida, a proud grin on your face. "And Dazai said I should follow him, so I did."

Atsushi laughed awkwardly. He knew you seemed similar to Dazai in your hedonistic pursuits, but this was baffling. "And the president hired you?"

"I had an entrance exam, but pretty much! I had just been fired from my old job the day before so Dazai helped me get set up here. And before you ask: I was fired because I told the boss' kid I wouldn't date him. He got all upset and told daddy to can me," you huff in frustration, still annoyed at your wrongful termination.

Kunikida rolled his eyes. "Don't act like some martyr; You also deserved to be fired. You just messed around on the job like you do here. You barely got any work done."

"You want me so badly it makes you look stupid—"

"I told them to sue and say it's discrimination because they're aro," Dazai cut you off, a pout on his lips like he's annoyed you didn't take his advice.

"What's... arrow?" Atsushi cocked his head to the side. He was unaware of the terminology, having never come across it in this context during his studies at the orphanage.

"Oh, it's shorthand for aromantic. It just means, like, experiencing little to no romantic attraction to anyone. It varies, of course..." You try to explain simply.

Atsushi nods, understanding the basic idea. "But it'd be wrong to lie about your sexuality, right?"

"I'm aro, actually," you shrug. Everyone at the agency is well aware, so Atsushi will likely find out eventually.

"Oh!" The younger employee's cheeks turn pink, feeling a little sheepish for assuming. A moment passes as Atsushi thinks before furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "I thought you and Dazai..?"

"We're both aromantic," Dazai rests his chin on his hand, elbow on his desk and an amused smirk pulling at his lips. "I've dated a lot in the past, but I realized it's just not for me."

"I've never been in a relationship and never want to," you add in yourself. "Aromanticism is... much more complex than how I explained it. Dazai feels romantic attraction, but doesn't— Is it fine if I tell him this?" You suddenly ask, realizing it really isn't your place to speak on his experience, even as his best friend.

"Oh, I don't care. Saves me the trouble," Dazai waves his hand dismissively. "But yeah, I feel romantic attraction, but lose it when it's reciprocated."

Atsushi nods slowly, beginning to understand. "Oh, okay. So you two are just close friends, then."

"Are we just not going to ask what you were doing in a holding cell when Dazai got thrown in?" Tanizaki asks from his desk.

"I just got too silly, you know how it is."

y!dazai and emotional reader..,, since he’s somewhat emotionally unavailable it’s really hard for him to understand how reader is feeling but he’ll try to act sympathetic just for the sake of them</3

YESSS okay hold on lemme just .

Dazai groaned. This was the third time you’d replied to him with the same - in his opinion - lame excuse. “He can just finish the reports on his own! They aren’t even yours to complete.”

“I offered to help Kunikida and I’m sticking by it. He deserves time to relax as well, you know? What’s wrong with lending a hand?” Your words made Dazai puff out his cheeks as he thought. Well, the main issue is that it’s taking time away from him. Shouldn’t your boyfriend be your top priority, rather than your coworker? “I’m sorry, Dazai. We can have that date tomorrow, alright? I promise.”

“Okay,” Dazai replies curtly. He doesn’t mean to be terse towards you, his beautiful and wonderful partner (his words not mine), but he just couldn’t understand where you were coming from. All he does is pawn off his work onto others, and Dazai is sure the rest of the agency would do the same if given the opportunity. And yet, here you are, staying late just to finish reports that aren’t yours.

His sudden gruff attitude caused you to frown, feeling a little guilty for leaving your boyfriend alone. “Hey,” you spun around in your chair to properly face him, discarding the pen you were working with momentarily. “We can spend time together tonight, alright? I promise, if I had known you planned something for us I wouldn’t have taken this on.”

Dazai knows that; Of course Dazai knows that. But… “Doesn’t spending time with me sound more fun?” He leans in, bumping his nose onto yours to try and entice you into joining him at home.

“One hundred percent,” you chuckle. An amused smile pulls at the edges of your lips as you lean back, turning once more to the extra paperwork you agreed to take on.

“Then why won’t you?” It’s not every day Dazai comes across something he can’t easily understand. With eyebrows stitched together, lips pursed into a small frown, he couldn’t figure out why you wouldn’t just join him. Kunikida wouldn’t be mad that you went home when you were supposed to; As much of a hard-ass as that man is, he understands the importance of a good work-life balance.

One of the reasons Dazai was always so drawn to you was your kindness and emotional side. At first you were merely a puzzle to him - a way to alleviate his boredom for a few weeks before something new came along. But even after all this time, he still hadn’t quite cracked the way you gravitate towards the illogical.

“I want to help out a friend, that’s all.”

Dazai thought back to his friend, one he’d have done anything to help out. Maybe he’s beginning to understand you.

“I’ll see you back at your apartment later, alright? I love you, Dazai.”

The brunet lets out a hum, indicating he heard you, before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and slipping on his coat. “See you later, then.”

THE WAY DAZAI JUST ISNT YANDERE ?? i forgot LMAOO i'm sorry anon :(

It's late.

Dazai feels a little ashamed, if he were to be honest. How pathetic is it that he's unable to sleep unless in the arms of his coworker? A little pathetic. His eyebrows furrow as he begins to pick the lock to your apartment.

It's late. You're probably asleep.

He's jealous. Yeah; the clenching feeling in his chest is jealousy from your ability to sleep through the nights (a feeling of his that isn't shared towards his well-rested coworkers). You're asleep, and he should be. He will be.

The door clicks quietly, and Dazai doesn't react. How many times has he broken into your apartment? The question is left unanswered as he saunters into the place, making sure to close and lock it behind him.

You're asleep. It's late.

He makes a pit stop by your kitchen, staring blankly into your fridge like he'd do if he lived here. He counts the number of half finished water bottles littering the shelves, dispersed in between random ingredients you don't open and snacks that are dwindling in number.

If Dazai lived here, maybe he could make you dinner sometime. Gather the ingredients to fill your fridge, put a pan on the stove — however people cook, he can't remember. The fridge closes quietly; It's late. You're asleep.

With a final glance towards the sink, taking note of the dirty cutlery delicately balanced around the edges, he makes his way into the hall. Three steps and he'd be outside your door, your bedroom door, where you're asleep.

Dazai pushes away the same thought that keeps appearing in his mind. Of course you're asleep, it's late.

He turns away from your bedroom and finds himself standing in your living room. It's happily lived in - cushions that have lost their fluff, a blanket strewed across the couch haphazardly. His hand runs over it; always the same blanket. Dazai can imagine sitting under this blanket on the couch with you, the couch you two would share, watching some movie on your small tv just across the small room.

If he lived here, he'd make sure to tidy up the living room before you two went to bed. You kept a basket of blankets just next to the tv, and Dazai could easily drape the blanket back into it before following you off to bed. For now, he leaves it; There'd be no trace he was here come morning.

Once again, he finds himself mere steps away from your bedroom door. You live alone, for now, and yet keep the door closed every night. Is it habit? Are you worried some barbarian will break in just to watch you sleep? (Dazai isn't here to watch you, of course; He's here to sleep as well.) If that is what you're worried about, he could always spend the night with you, just to make sure you're safe. Well, spend the whole night with you, rather than breaking in late and sneaking out early.

Dazai turns into the bathroom.

You have the cutest rug next to your shower, one that always makes Dazai smile. A tough persona is applied at the agency, so only he is privy to your cute pink Sanrio bathmat. It's not what he would have expected for you, and that's what makes him smile. Your counter holds an electric toothbrush and has a lot of clutter Dazai wants to sort through. If he lived with you, he could place his toothbrush next to yours and keep your hair care stuff in the cabinet below. Maybe one day you'd let Dazai comb your hair, with a brush or just his fingers.

It's late. You're asleep. The same thought Dazai has been pushing down since he began the walk to your apartment fills his head once more. He's not delusional, no, but what if you weren't asleep? What if you were waiting up, just for him?

His hand touches the doorknob. It's late. You have no reason to think he's coming. The door opens slowly and quietly as he peers in.

You're asleep.

Dazai's chest constricts and he can't help the frown pulling at his lips. Of course you're asleep; He's stupid to get his hopes up. If you were awake anyway, you'd kick him out and probably call the cops. He is trespassing right now, at a time when you're most vulnerable.

Still, Dazai slips into your warm, cream-colored sheets, his hands clasped together under his cheek as he lies on his side. You're so calm, so serene under the dull light of a street lamp just outside the bedroom window. Hesitantly, Dazai's hand moves to brush a strand of hair from your face, the tips of his fingers experimentally tracing your skin.

His eyes flutter shut when you move closer. Were you used to his presence? Dazai likes to think you need him to sleep as much as he needs you. Sure, you could fall asleep without him curled up beside you, but maybe he was soothing nightmares. The thought made him frown. He shouldn't care, he shouldn't be here. His eyebrows furrowed like they had when he first broke in — this is weird. This is illegal, too.

A frustrated puff of air leaves his mouth, his eyes shutting more firmly. Tighter, tighter — why isn't he asleep yet?

He curls more into himself, feeling ashamed and embarrassed and anxious and annoyed and-

Your hand moves from your chest to his, softly resting over his heart. The small smile resides back on Dazai's face as he relaxes, slowly drifting to sleep in your bed.

Light filters in through your sheer curtains, the sun kissing your face as you quickly wake up. The blaring of your alarm was the first thing you'd noticed, rubbing your eyes with one hand as you turned to shut it off. Just a few moments of peace, and then you'd get up....

Those few moments didn't come to pass before you were hit with a boost of energy, sitting up in your empty bed. Of course your bed was empty, no need to emphasize it. You live alone, did you expect someone to be there when you woke up?

Dazai is antsy. For those who've seen him regularly the past month, this isn't a new sight: him pulling at the edges of his bandages, shifting continuously in his seat, eyes flittering back and forth... It happens daily at this point.

Until you show up, when he jumps into your arms, drapes himself over your back, leans into your side, anything he can do to be as physically close to you as possible. His clinginess has started to affect your work, unable to do much as Dazai pulls you onto his lap during the day or sits on yours, head pushed into your shoulder. At least lunches are fine as he pulls you onto the Agency's couch and holds you from behind: you can still access your packed food (which Dazai always steals bites of).

Holding your hand isn't enough, either. Dazai needs to be on top of you or have you on top of him, or he's antsy — which leads us to now. He's shifting uncomfortably in the passenger seat of your car, the edges of his bandages unraveling as he picks at them. A small look of panic crosses his face as he finally notices, discretely trying to pull them more tightly in hopes of bringing them back to how they were before.

He glances over at you. Your eyes were focused on the road, one hand holding the steering wheel and the other resting on your lap. The hand was taunting Dazai, practically begging him to grab it... so he did. You glance at the intertwined hands briefly before smiling at him, focusing back on the road right after.

...

It wasn't helping. You're right there and he can't hold you? So close he can smell you but can't have you in his embrace?! This must be his own hell, fashioned by Satan himself to torture Dazai for all eternity (or for the next ten minutes before you reach your destination).

"You alright, Dazai?"

He huffs at your question; Of course not. The childish pout on his face makes you let out a breathy laugh. He turns to you with such adoration - what an adorable sound that he coaxed out of you... Ugh, it just makes him want to hold you more.

You squeeze his hand reassuringly, the feeling causing Dazai to relax momentarily... Until once again he's thinking about the warmth of your hand, and how much warmer it'd be to hold you.

"How much longer?" He whines, the same pout on his lips.

"GPS says seven minutes. Are you that excited for this case?" An amused smirk plays on your lips, the teasing tone making Dazai's heart flutter.

He shifts in his seat, the hand not holding yours fidgeting with the fabric of his vest. "Excited for it to be over," he replies, trying to keep his gaze out the window and not on you.

"Seven minutes, and then you can solve it."

Seven minutes. Seven long, excruciating minutes in hell before he can touch you again, hold you again. Seven minutes, 420 seconds, a few red lights and then a shoddy parking job. Seven minutes... seven...

You let out a yelp, eyes widening as you swerve slightly on the road. "Dazai!" You chastise, both hands moving to tightly grip the steering wheel.

His face is pressed up against your neck, hands grabbing you tightly as he leans over the car's center console to be closer. A stupid grin sits on his lips as he giggles, feeling heady from your warmth. Mmm, this is what he was missing...

"Dazai, I'm driving!" you say, as though the man would understand and move off of you. Instead, he lets out a low whine and hugs you tighter, entirely off of his seat and pressing up against you.

"I'm not stopping you." Your gaze shifts over towards him. "Eyes on the road." You huff, but do as he says. His eyes were closed, how could he see you looking at him?

"You can't do this, Dazai."

"It's like you said: it's only seven minutes," Dazai grinned smugly. Part of him wanted to ask why you didn't like him holding you so closely, but he knew you didn't mind. Should he be clinging to you while you're driving? Probably not, but then maybe you shouldn't be so warm and inviting.

You say nothing else, now focused entirely on the road with a tight grip on the steering wheel. Dazai says nothing either: after all, he got what he wanted.

Dazai didn't mind you playing with his hand. In fact, he kind of liked the attention and care you seemed to be showing him, even if it was just towards one appendage. Light tugging and pushing on fingers, delicately tracing his knuckles and the scars littering the back, and even occasionally lacing your fingers with his for a moment — Dazai was happy to let you do it all. To think hands that have previously participated in such horrid acts could be treated so gently made butterflies erupt in his tummy.

He let you do whatever (having trouble saying no to you) while he wasted time rereading his book. You'd pull his hand to your face sporadically through your time playing with it, so it never caused Dazai any alarm. Sometimes you would inspect it closely, sometimes you'd drag his calloused fingertips along your cheek just to see if the degree of toughness had changed, but his favorite was when you'd press a tiny kiss to his palm. Usually that meant playtime was over — soon you'd drop his hand onto his lap and scurry away. Even knowing it brought about the end of his favorite time with you, the tingly feeling of your lips on his skin lingering long after you'd leave made it worth it. All this to say, Dazai was used to you tugging his hand up towards his face, bringing it closer to your mouth. He had to work overtime to keep his heartbeat steady, certain of what was to come next, when...

"Ow!"

It was hard to catch Dazai off guard. You weren't even trying, you just... Well, you wanted to see what would happen.

"Did you just bite me?" He couldn't help the amused (his coworkers would say smitten) smile on his lips as he turned to look at you.

You turned to him with wide doe eyes, a deer caught in headlights as you seemed unaware you had even done something wrong. Timidly, you press a tiny, chaste kiss to the tip of his middle finger — the same finger you'd gently bitten the top of moments prior.

"Mmh... Sorry, Dazai." Your words were languid, gently squeezing his hand before dropping it out of your hold.

Dazai wanted to pout, to say 'you forgot my kiss' while pointing to his palm, but he was too focused on his middle finger — the tingling of where you kissed him and the warmth of your mouth he'd felt around his fingertip for a fleeting moment. As you shuffled beside him, preparing to stand up, his hand shot out to grip yours.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The smirk on his face told you he wasn't too upset by your impulsive action, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Um, away..?"

A grin spanned across his face as he leaned closer. "Not before my payback, you aren't."

Losing distance, his mouth opened slowly until his head stopped just over your shoulder. "I require penance, you know," he mumbled before biting down onto the soft skin.

small insinuation of self harm

Dazai realizing he loves his s/o, telling them, and then wanting to tell the world ! He's very dramatic, so he repeats it religiously at the agency - a mantra that follows him everywhere :))

Until afterwards when he's alone in his apartment, heart beating out of his chest and feeling especially anxious. What's wrong with him? He didn't do anything differently today than he normally does...

He thinks hard as to what might be causing this, when the door opens and you step in. Oh, he's anxious about you.

But why? He loves you! He's quick to say it as you close and lock his door, and the feeling suddenly returns.

Oh.

He feels a sudden urge to break up with you, loosen contact, drive you away - Does he love you? He didn't want to tell anyone else (he did, he regrets it now). What happens if he falls out of love? Why did he do that? His chest just keeps squeezing, keeps constricting — feeling almost as though he was drowning in his thoughts. A moment of reprieve is granted only by the gentle placement of your hand over his heart.

"Are you alright?"

A few deep breaths and Dazai's heart rate is back in his control. Yes, he loves you, he thinks. But saying it is too scary.

Dazai just looks at you, a war tearing between his brain and his heart, unable to decide how to feel. His brain wants him to vanish: pack up and leave you forever so he doesn't have to deal with this vulnerability. His heart, however, wants to pull you closer. Never leave you, never let you out of his sight, always keep you within six feet of him to protect and love— and like you.

You pull his head onto your chest, cradling it in one hand as the other cards through his hair. "You can tell me anything, you know."

Dazai knows. But telling you he's not actually sure he loves you after his huge breakthrough what was merely the night before feels cruel.

It took a lot for him to open up and admit that, and he's not sure he can open up and admit that he regrets it. He should leave you - you deserve someone better, someone who can shout from the rooftops that you're theirs. But selfishly, he wants to hold you close and let you sooth him.

Seeing him still so torn, not moving as you hold him, causes a frown to come onto your face. All you want is for him to be happy and healthy and loved, and you'd thought you had a 66.67% success rate (you're working on the health thing). Like Dazai had moments prior, you wrack your brain for a change, and quickly land the same place he did: his love for you.

You smile softly, maybe a little sadly, and pull him closer until he's sitting on your lap. "Osamu," you press a kiss to the crown of his head.

He says nothing, just staring blankly. This is the hardest he's ever had to work to keep his heart in check, to stop the frantic beating. Is it hot in here? Should he take off his coat? Why can't he tell everyone he loves his partner? He does love them, he does.

How are you supposed to approach this? If you say you don't have to love me, he could go on the defensive. You just want him to relax. "I'd never force you to do something against your best interest."

Dazai meekly nods. Of course not. You always focus on him and his needs, emotionally and physically. You pack him lunches so he doesn't skip it at work and force him to eat dinners with you most nights. He just now notices the plastic takeout bag on the table - you must have brought that in when you first arrived. You want what's best for him, and he loves you for that! Doesn't he? Does he?

"I don't want you to force yourself into doing anything— saying anything you aren't ready for yet."

Dazai shuts his eyes tightly. Of course you figured it out. Feeling anxious, his heart beats desperately as he relinquishes control, not caring if you notice. Several soft apologies begin to fall from his lips quicker than you can stop them. The turmoil of this is eating him alive, and he hates it. Is running still an option? Does he even want to? The only thing keeping him from opening up new scars tonight is the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He's not sure if he'd leave even if you made him.

Fuck, but staying is so hard. His hands move up to tightly grip the fabric of your shirt, bunching it up between his fingers in hopes to ground himself.

You say nothing, allowing Dazai time to collect himself. Minutes pass, the food you brought likely cold now as Dazai just breathes in your embrace. A small growl from your stomach pulls him from his head finally, a small smile on his face as he looks up, seeing an embarrassed blush decorating your cheeks.

"Sorry, sorry!" Suddenly you're burying your head in Dazai's chest, seeking solace from your embarrassment. You trust him, love him enough to let him comfort you, just as he does you. A groan comes out of your mouth as your hands cover your face.

Dazai chuckles, pulling your head up before gently removing the hands covering your face. Your shoulders fall as Dazai's smile makes you relax. Whatever's bothering him won't go away over night, but you'll always be there to help.

"Come on, let's go eat," Dazai says, voice much calmer than it is when he's loudly boasting about his s/o at the agency. You don't mind. You like this version of Dazai all the same.

He loves you, he's sure of it. He just needs some time to properly accept it before yelling it from the rooftops - and you're more than happy to give him that time.

Dazai's playful grin falters as you chastise him once more, the words punctuated with his name. His last name, once again.

"Why don't you ever call me by my first name?"

Your playful attitude freezes at his question, your fake pout dropping as you turn slack jawed. "W-what?" A stutter passes through your lips as you just continue to stare.

"We've been dating for a few months now, and you never call me by my name." He plays off his words as a joke, something to fluster you, but with the way his fingers slightly pinch and pull at the edges of his bandages, you can tell he's being vulnerable.

An embarrassed blush decorates your face as you just continue to stare at him.

"I'd like it if you'd call me by my name, love." His flirting isn't helpful. From vulnerable fidgets to a cocky grin, Dazai (for once) inaccurately pegs your blush as a flustered reaction, likely feeling shy at the notion he'd now mentioned.

Inaccurate, because it wasn't a matter of not feeling ready, or close enough, but rather because-

"...What's your first name..?"

-you'd forgotten.

Dazai's eyes widen in a rare expression of genuine shock, his movements pausing at your timid question. The embarrassed blush decorating your face that had briefly fooled Dazai only began to grow.

You bury your face in the palms of your hands and let out a groan as Dazai begins laughing: a genuine, gut laugh that you rarely got to hear.

"It's Osamu," he says politely, not wanting to make you any more embarrassed. As you look up from the palms of your hands, you notice Osamu's soft expression and let out a sigh of relief.

You grin. "Nice to meet you, Osamu."

A soft smile pulls at Dazai's lips as he watches you grab your phone. The bright light illuminating your face in the dark kitchen makes you look ethereal, yet he can't stop himself from making a joke. "You know I don't know how to do this."

"You know better than I," you say softly, an amused smirk pulling at your lips as you press play. Nocturne Op. 9, No. 2 begins to softly play from your shitty phone speakers as you place it on a counter, walking towards Dazai.

"I'd probably be better with the lights on," he tries joking again. You don't reply as you place your hands softly on the back of his neck, pulling yourself close as you begin to sway.

Back and forth, back and forth, you continue to step, and Dazai follows each move perfectly. It's no waltz by any means, but it is yours to share. A moment together, a moment of quiet vulnerability in the late hours of the night when everyone else is asleep is sometimes just what he needs - and you always know it.

The peaceful piano piece and the warmth of your body near his makes Dazai's eyes flutter closed, his head moving to rest on your shoulder as yours falls onto his. He hadn't realized just how tired he is, physically and emotionally. His throat begins to sting, and his eyes feel dryer than normal. He feels like crying. And yet, no tears slip past his eyes - they never do - as his hold on you tightens.

The music swells, hitting the part you'll always say is your favorite, and he feels you give him a gentle squeeze, a reassuring touch that causes him to loosen his hold. You aren't going anywhere, neither of you are.

A small this is my favorite part is whispered into his shoulder and Dazai wants to laugh. You're so predictable, and yet that predictability brings a sense of ease and comfort to him that he hasn't felt in a long time. He keeps quiet, his head moving further into your neck as he continues swaying with you.

I've never been one for classical music, I can barely see in the dark, you know I can't waltz, all excuses to stop himself from being vulnerable with you. But the second you pull him close, holding his face to your shoulder and rocking him like a baby on the wood-paneled floor of your shared apartment, he wonders why he fought it in the first place.

As the last note fades out, Dazai's face is fully buried into the crook of your neck, grasping onto your body loosely and tiredly. You aren't going anywhere, neither of you are. And the two of you continue to sway for minutes more, nothing outside of the occasional floorboard creek to interrupt as you embrace each other under the moonlight.

Dazai likes having someone to take care of; It helps him to take care of himself. After all, if he goes, who will be there to look after you? He doesn’t realize just how much he likes it until he’s slipping things into your drinks and food, keeping you in your sick and weakened state.

Surely he isn’t doing anything wrong, you’d be scolding him if he was. And yet, you thank him so genuinely, looking at him with such hopeful and appreciative eyes... He’s definitely doing the right thing, he’s taking care of you! Anyone would appreciate that, right?

"Maybe we should kill ourselves, hm?" The voice was loud and humorous, and Dazai had been used to his friend going along with what he said for their own entertainment, but this time was different.

The way their eyes are slightly glazed over, the fact that they had brought up suicide instead of just playing off of some of Dazai's many comments, the slight shake in their hands.... they meant it.

Dazai grabbed their hand, squeezing it slightly - something he found himself growing fond of recently. "Nah, let's stick around a little longer."

CONTAINS: mentions of a fictitious car crash, the occasional threat of death, gender neutral reader

While some may disagree, nothing is as painful as boredom.

Now more than ever you believed this, seated in the back corner of your classroom, cheek resting in the palm of your left hand. You didn’t even want to take this class; World Music has nothing to do with your major. However, it fulfilled some stupid university credit that everyone needs in order to graduate. Glancing down towards your empty notebook, you grabbed a pen with your free hand.

big drum = big sound

You scrawled the four words down before lazily looking back up at your professor. He had spent the last 20 minutes explaining the difference between the same two drums, and you weren’t excited to listen to the rest of his lecture… So, you didn’t. Your focus shifted from the tall, orange-haired man in the front of your class to the bickering just outside it, head tilting slightly to the side. The walls in the basement of your university’s Fine Arts building were thin, so even though your seat was situated at the other end of the classroom’s closed door, the pattering of footsteps still made its way through. Along with that, you could hear the tick of the clock that was hung up above the teacher’s desk at the front reading 1:27 pm—you still had 23 minutes left of this horribly boring class. What that also meant is that any student walking through the halls must be from a class that was let out exceedingly early.

Only two pairs of footsteps echoed outside the classroom, a pair of bickering voices accompanying them. If a class got out early, surely there would be more—both in terms of footsteps and voices. Maybe two students were arriving to a class early? This far in the semester, it was safe to say this would be a common occurrence if true, however, you had never heard anyone pass by at this time before today. These two weren’t students arriving early to a class, or leaving early from another. Two people wouldn’t be arriving 30 minutes late, at that point they’d skip the class. You put the tip of your pen between your teeth as you thought.

Maybe the pair had been getting out late? The basement of the fine arts building does house just about all of the campus’ art classes, maybe they had a project coming up and decided to stay and work late. No, all of the art classrooms are situated to the left of the basement, these two were coming from the right. Perhaps they were lost kids, visiting colleges for the following year? Maybe professors, bickering over lazy students and assignments they had yet to grade. Or maybe, piggybacking on your earlier idea, the two had come early to work on a project outside of class…

“Are you still with us?” You realized Mr. Patrick had stopped banging his drums when he called out your name. Oops, you zoned out. Your coworkers always warn you that you tend to zero in on one thing and need to work on being more aware of your surroundings. A small smile pulls at your face. Maybe you should drop out of school: you’re learning more from your current part-time job than your stupid World Music class.

“Yes, sorry. Just listening to the difference in the drums.” I’m listening to the muffled conversation happening in the halls, you thought to yourself. The pen you were chewing on a moment earlier was placed next to your notebook.

Your teacher hummed in response. “Is that so? Then maybe you can explain the difference for the rest of your classmates.” Maybe you can explain the need for this class— you held your tongue, choosing to clear your throat instead of being gifted a lecture from your professor.

“I’m willing to try,” your voice was lighthearted and playful as the hand that was holding your head up dropped to cover your suspicious lack of notes. “While both drums are marketed the same and share the same size, the one on the left has a richer, deeper sound when played,” You almost let an embarrassed smile slip as you improvised your explanation. “I would guess that there was a miscalculation during its production, and the left drum is likely a tiny bit bigger than the right, creating said deeper sound.” By the end of your explanation, your cheeks were slightly tinted. While you had coasted through school by bullshitting answers, you truly had no idea if you could get away with this one. Damn those two outside of the class, this wouldn’t have happened if they hadn’t been here.

The longer the teacher didn’t respond, the worse your red cheeks got—and your cruel professor remained silent for what felt like a while after your little speech (which, in reality, had only been a few seconds).

“So you had been listening, glad to hear it. Yes, the difference is…” as Mr. Patrick went back to explaining the drums, you let out a sigh of relief, head dropping ever so slightly as your eyes closed. The confidence you had just shown as you gave your answer was an act, one you weren’t sure you could’ve kept up if he had urged you to continue. You couldn’t afford to zone out again: you had to let the strangers outside go.

With newfound determination, you grasped your pen once more and looked back up to your ginger music professor. Paying attention isn’t that hard, you can do this.

At least, that’s what you hoped, until the same strangers that had helped soothe your boredom for a moment stopped just outside the door to your classroom. You clicked your tongue in disdain—it felt as though they were tempting you, telling you you’re so close, just think a little harder! Those assholes—no way would you do that again. You had a feeling Mr. Patrick wouldn’t be as kind if you were caught zoning out for a second time. Besides, it hadn’t even been five minutes. Whoever was bickering outside your classroom could choke for all you cared, as long as they stopped distracting you.

“Fine, then let’s just ask!” was the first full sentence you could make out from the pair before the cheap wooden door on the back left corner of your small white classroom swung open.

This was definitely distracting you.

Glancing over from your place in the back right corner, you finally got to see the people that caused you to anxiously ramble in front of your whole class even if you’d done so correctly and confidently, the assholes you’d end yourself.

Holy shit.

Your eyes widened when you noticed who had burst into your classroom: a bandaged brunet and a bespectacled blond, two of your coworkers. You wondered if you had ever looked away so quickly before this moment. It suddenly made sense, why the bickering seemed so familiar and why you couldn’t pinpoint the reason for the pair’s appearance. They weren’t supposed to be here, and you made sure to scratch a quick fuck you into your notebook so you’d remember this later. After all, if you forgot, how could you make sure to complain to your boss?

“May I help you?” Mr. Patrick was careful to put down the two drums he had been cradling very delicately as he addressed the two men that had barged in.

Feeling embarrassed, you placed your hand flat against your cheek, turning your head down and hoping your face was hidden. You can’t believe these two would pull such a stunt as this, especially the blond. Wasn’t he a teacher at one point? Shouldn’t he know not to interrupt a class?

“We’re sorry to-“ before the aforementioned blond could properly explain the situation, his brunet partner started talking over him.

“I believe you can help us, you see, we’re looking for a student that goes here,” he punctuated the sentence with your full name. Seeing as the teacher had recently said your name to humiliate ask you a question, every student in the class turned to the back right corner, directly to where you sat—or, rather, where you slouched, as you had curled your body in on itself in an attempt to hide.

“Is that so? May I ask why?” You silently cheered, hoping Mr. Patrick would scare these two morons away so you wouldn’t have to deal with all of your peers’ eyes directed towards the safe back corner you resided in.

But of course, nothing was that simple. The tall brunet you had come to occasionally appreciate at work started tearing up, ready to give the performance of a lifetime.

“It’s hard to vocalize,” he started by stuttering. “You see, we came to tell them that their dear sister has…” the man paused briefly as you peaked through your fingers with an amused smile, ready to see how this would play out. “Their sister got into a car crash,” and he burst into tears. Quite the actor, but it’s a good thing you are, too.

You didn’t really have a choice but to play along. What were you supposed to say? ‘No, he’s lying; Please resume your boring ass lecture?’ So, you contorted your face to make it seem like you were about to cry (fake crying was something you had yet to master) and pulled your hands down your face. “She what?” Spinning from your spot, you looked directly at the two.

“We need you to come with us, so we may escort you to the hospital where she is being held.” The blond did not look comfortable with the brunet’s show, and simply walked out of the classroom as he continued.

You’re the worst, you wanted to say. Instead, you stood up, packed your nearly empty notes into your backpack, and followed your blond coworker into the hall.

“You see, sir, they need to visit their sister. If you can excuse their absence this once…”

“Of course, I won’t take any points off; This is an emergency.” You rolled your eyes as you overheard your teacher’s voice. You were supposed to save me, Mr. Patrick.

The tall brunet slipped into a hallway and immediately his eyes dried, a cocky smirk appearing on his face.

“I hope you get into a car accident,” you whisper, swinging a backpack strap over your shoulder as you start following the blond, who now stood at the end of the hallway. He stood impatiently, as was indicated by the tapping of his foot and him checking his watch repeatedly.

“Not the first time I’ve gotten that.”

“I find that extremely easy to believe.”

The two annoyances in the hall were none other than Kunikida Doppo and Dazai Osamu: employees at your part-time job.

AKA: the only people that could make you miss the torturous boredom.

soooo uhh aside from the current chuuya + soukoku requests, I've been wondering whether i should write a part 2 of poetry in motion tumblr link here but this time continued in the ADA. the dynamic will remain fairly the same (can be read as platonic or romantic). the ending led up to it so i thought it would be fitting to write a follow up and after exams i might have the energy to post a little more + continue my fyodor series.

also have been thinking of eventually making a taglist (hopefully??? i'm sort of new to posting fics on tumblr)

poetry in motion ; dazai osamu

dazai osamu + gn! reader — a conversation by the sea. a morning of quiet contemplation.

author's note: was feeling mentally ill at 2am while listening to lana del rey unreleased and shat this out. can be read as both platonic and romantic! this is set between odasaku's death and dazai's departure from the mafia. i hope i portrayed pm dazai well enough. listen to some ocean sounds while reading for ambience. read on ao3 here. wc: 2930 words.

The foaming blue waves roll softly on the docks, the wooden boards of the pier damp and rotted over the years, silently standing against the ocean currents. The dock workers shuffle through the shipment yard in the early morning hours, sun risen but obscured by heavy clouds. The cold, salty breeze pricks the cheeks of the brunet, leaving a pink hue wherever they gently brush. He was here to watch the sunrise, took you with him, but the hours have already passed and he couldn't tell when the inky black of the night disappeared and was replaced by the greyish blues he sees now. It's always possible to miss things even when they are in your sight the whole time— everything slips past his fingers too easily.

You are still here beside him, wires tangled between the two of you, sharing earpieces; he's never been a fan of your tastes in music, but he's beginning to get used to it. The same way you've made your way into his life; unpredictable, unwelcome, yet needed. Puffs of fog hang around the two; winter's over, but it's still very much cold. Atleast, that's what he thought when he put his coat over your shoulders. It doesn't fit him, it doesn't fit you. Instead, it hangs off the edges of your shoulders like a heavy weight, meant for someone else to bear. Not him, not you.

The song repeats over and over, but he does not feel like clicking to the next one. The endless loop of songbirds, crashing waves, featherlight melodies; there is something comforting in familiarity. Even if it is merely temporary. The sky is empty and grey, so he naturally looks down below. The spot he chose for the two of you was perfect the night before, when everything shrouded in the cold blanket of the midnight hours, playing games and laughing about silly anecdotes to distract yourselves. Even as the both of you were covered in dried blood and sitting with trembling hands from the action of the evening before; it was absurd, but ignoring reality made everything a little bit easier, if only for the little pockets of time you both had. Anything that kept you both sane, wasn't it what you both wanted?

But now the night is gone and he can look at the drop down below, legs dangling off the edge; there's a vague feeling of disappointment somewhere under his skin. It's another day under the sun where nothing ever happens. The thrill of being on the edge of death will creep again at night, but daylight hours were largely sleepy affairs; everything that was worth happening only did once the sun went down. Atleast he has the solace of being around someone he actually likes the presence of. Your eyes flit over the scene down below. The shuffle of life looks distant from this height and when you strain your ears the garbled, vague voices of dockhands reaches your ears, but it's all so far away. There's always a quiet temptation that pulls on the mind; to leave this little bubble of fragile, short lived peace and join the waking world again, to cross this height and meet life where you can feel its signs. For there's no life in the dull chocolate brown gaze that you can feel affixed to the side of your face. Still, you like his company. He's easy to be around, even if he goes out of his way to be troublesome for certain people, like a specific ginger boy you're both familiar with. There is something deliberately performative about it, however; his dramatics are for his amusement, but there is a layer of irony so subtle in his excesses that sometimes, it feels like a mockery of something. Of what, you cannot tell. Your gaze doesn't meet his, mind consumed by the tides below, edged white with seafoam and painted a muted blue by the sky. It's not because you feel uncomfortable holding his gaze, like certain other people do—in truth you've always found something unique in it, because it's only natural that when you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back. Right now, however, you felt like any eye contact could ruin this moment, and once that happens, you both will begin the same loop that has defined this life for the two of you.

You're tired by this point. He can tell how you yawn every few seconds, and he knows he's kept you here for too long, but he's not one to ever feel satisfied when it comes to things like this. "Tired?" He asks flicking open his box of cigarettes and handing you one. That might just make you more sleepy, but you didn't seem to care when you took out cigarette from the box and flipped open your lighter. The blue flame lit the stick in his mouth first, then yours, and was shut with a flick of your thumb. "Kinda. You know, maybe we shouldn't have stayed up playing games all night. I think I'm gonna pass out and I can't even sleep in today, man."

"Your fault for asking for rematches for six straight hours. Your win-lose ratio is hilarious."

"I am not a quitter."

"That's right, you're a loser instead. So much better!"

"Shut it, mummy boy." You scoff, tapping him lightly on his arm with the cigarette in retaliation. It doesn't connect, but he doesn't spare a second before gasping. Though, it wouldn't exactly be the first time either of you have tried putting out cigarettes on each other. As a joke, of course. Punchline unknown.

"That hurt!!"

"I didn't even touch you."

"It's the principle of it!" He complained, resting his chin on the heel of his bandaged wrist.

"You're ridiculous, I swear. Next time, I'm gonna win."

"Wanna bet on that?"

"…No."

"Thought so." He huffed, exhaling smoke.

Petty things like this mattered little to you anyway. Even during the mundane minutes where nothing seemed to happen, you never bothered to cure your boredom anywhere else. Even when it would be so easy to point out that you really had no one better to be with, he never taunted you with it. There had grown a silent understanding between the two of you that he'd rather keep it that way. It's not that you had very few friends from a lack of trying either, but friendships in the mafia were mostly superficial. After one point, you had begun to retreat into yourself, at the very least, emotionally. It was simply the nature of things. Even when you tried to reach out to someone else and connect, it felt wrong. There was something unfit and dishonest about it, like trying to find love in a brothel.

Still, for the better or worse, you both were close friends, whether you both said it out loud or not didn't matter because where he is, there's always you not too far away.

When the silence falls again, the acrid smoke curls around the both of you in silence, dissipating into the morning air as you both watch. Once the wind begins to pick up, Dazai adjusts the lapels of the coat draped on you a little. A mundane gesture, but you appreciated it. Still…button ups and bandages couldn't be enough. "Aren't you cold?" He responds with a noncommittal hum. "Kind of, but it feels good." The ocean draft was cold, but soft. A feathery touch.

However, you'd rather not risk him getting sick, even if he would love the excuse to skip out on work. You shift the coat so that it is draped upon the two of you, the black trenchcoat enveloping the two of you. It fit better this way, you think, the weight of it not as heavy when shared. Dazai, despite his earlier nonchalance, does take the lapel on his end and pull it tighter on his shoulder. His bandaged fingers no longer tremble as much, fiddling with the beaded bracelet on his wrist instead, and the crab charm hanging from it. It's silly, but it hasn't left his wrist in years. Or yours. Underneath bandages, shirt cuffs and heavy black coats, the weight of childhood presses down with a gentle reminder. Don't forget who you were.

After all, people don't simply become anew when they grow up; rather the years build upon them like successive shells. The way nacre builds around pearls. But it always seemed to you like your shell was never hard enough for this place; every day felt uncertain, like being thrown into the deep end of a pool for the first time. Then there were the times where you felt like you could almost forget all of that, the little pockets of normalcy within the chaos. Normalcy with him. It wasn't enough, but it was enough to remind you that sometimes, it was worth it to be alive. You were only afraid that one day, it will no longer be enough. That there would be a day when your soul will be steeped in the same loneliness as his, the same mafia black that painted his life in broad strokes.

Still, you had your solace in the fact that Dazai too, seemed to be changing, even if it was in a way that was subtle for most people. He didn't seem to throw himself into death's welcoming arms as often anymore, or with the same passion. Something had changed, but you couldn't tell what it was. You didn't know how to ask, but you already knew that he wasn't going to answer. There was no explanation for it. You just knew. Looking down at the ledge, legs hanging off it, you wonder if his attempts had any merit. That perhaps you were simply desperate for any reason to hold on when you should've just given up and let go.

The port town is a little more lively in the morning now and the sounds that characterize this life still ring in your ears, though it is distant. Painfully so. When you look down at the drop below, gaze over the wooden dock and the turbulent waves, there is a strange thought in your mind. A sort of distressing temptation, some sort of a call that makes you want to close the distance that separated you from the rest of humanity. It appears out of nowhere, but stays in the back of your mind. A siren call to the ground that you don't dare answer. You pull your legs up and rest them on the concrete, slightly away from the ledge. His eyes follow the movement, but he says nothing of it. There was no explanation for it. He just knew. He does the same, placing his legs on the ledge instead of letting them dangle, an arm around your shoulders. "Dazai, can I ask a question?" Your tone was softer, less aggressive than it was during your banter. "Yeah, what is it?"

You extinguish the lit cigarette on the concrete. "You ever get that weird feeling? A temptation to fall? Not wanting to, but the thought feels…"

"…Compelling, yeah. Why do you ask?"

"I don't really know. I don't think I want to die. Sometimes I'm not sure of that either."

Dazai hums, a noncommittal sound. You've been changing lately too, this he knows, but not yet enough to truly consider such a solution. He knew you, how you seemed to still have some sort of a hope for living; a meaning that seemed to be lost on both of you but very much there. He had thought that the nature of death and unbridled vice that gripped the mafia would be enough to give him a reason to live, but some days, he feels a sort of unfounded jealousy towards you. That though you seemed to not know your reasons, you never realized the futility of your existence. Not in the same way he did. In that sense, your presence here felt out of place, discordant; sometimes he thinks if he shouldn't have dragged you down with him.

Eurydice, after all, is not supposed to follow Orpheus to hell.

But this story is all upside down and inside out, wrong in its very nature; meant to evoke a certain disgust in whoever witnessed it.

Even God would turn away.

"It's just a thought. You don't want to die." Dazai remarks, uncharacteristically sincere for once.

He wonders, how long will you hold onto that dying light in your eyes?

"Yeah. I mean, I don't think I do. It's just… living is so exhausting."

"And it's so easy to die, isn't it?"

You nod quietly, but don't agree with him entirely. It is easy to die, especially in the mafia, but you won't willingly seek it. The permanence of death still terrifies you, and you're not that courageous. You don't want to face the devil you know. You'd rather sit here on the ledge with the one you do.

"Maybe. But sometimes it feels worth it to be alive. And I don't want to miss that."

"Even if it's tiring and meaningless?"

"… For now, yes."

The look in his eyes has changed, softened to one of resignation, and it scares you. Even when you are looking straight at him, you can glean nothing from his eyes. You could vaguely guess what a person usually thought of by their expression. But he was different, he always was different; the times when you could tell what he felt merely off a glance were gone a long time back.

"I guess we can't see eye to eye on it, then."

He wonders if there would ever be a day where you start seeing what he sees; if there would be a day you'd come home with your hopes crushed and he'd be able to say something stupid like, I told you so.

He didn't know if he wanted that day to come.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you observed his far off expression for a few more seconds, before looking away. The question that leaves your mouth feels jarring, without any proper forethought that can soften how rough it feels on the tongue. But it's not your fault there's only one thing you could think of at the moment.

"…Do you think people who can't understand each other can be friends?"

"Understanding or relating? They're different things."

That threw you in for another loop. The worst part was that you didn't even know. You know your friend's sorrows, you know the emptiness that runs through him more than anyone— yet you could never truly piece where it started and where it'd end, nor could you feel it in yourself. No matter how much you wished you could. "Either."

"I think… people should atleast be able to understand each other when they're friends, no? You can't really care about someone you know nothing about. Relating isn't that important, though."

"… Are we friends, then?"

The moment's silence is heavy between the two of you as Dazai thinks over your words. Were you his friend? Here, in the morning light, under the same coat, wearing matching crab bracelets? Maybe you are his friend, but he wonders if he knows what friends are even supposed to be like. You're not like Odasaku or even Chuuya, though with the latter he has a complicated relationship, yet could still call his friend sometimes. You two were close, but he was not blind to the very fundamental differences between the two of you. The chasm of hope that separated you. A space that'd only grow wider once he leaves, and he knows he has to. Still, for some reason he feels compelled to take your hand and hold it lightly in his. Are we friends, then?

"Yeah, I think we are." He answers, with a small smile on his face.

Ultimately, he didn't think any of it mattered. For the better or worse, after all, the both of you were together. Your faint, content smile at the confirmation makes him feel like it wasn't wrong to say it.

"Really? Well, that's good enough for me."

He had the urge to retort back with another quip, something that would derail the conversation and steer it back towards the usual banter; something familiar and easy between the two of you. However, this time, he doesn't follow through with it, instead stewing in the temporary discomfort that comes with sincerity. For once, he feels like being honest with you, even if it means not punctuating this heavy silence. Letting the sounds of the waves and the faint music in the shared earphones be the only voice in his ears. You seemed content with the same, still sitting by his side and sharing the coat, pinky fingers interlinked loosely.

Perhaps you did not need to understand his sorrow or feel it as your own, and he does not have to understand your exhaustion and hope for the future. Everyday is all anyone can ever have, and if these days were a little more bearable like this, there was no reason to deliberately cut this off. There is a passing thought; that perhaps in the coming days, when he finally decides to leave this teenage wasteland for good, he could take you with him. After all, where he was, you weren't too far away. If fallen angels exist, so do risen demons, and perhaps this time, Eurydice will make it back to the surface; for this story is all wrong, and that's alright.

poetry in motion ; dazai osamu

dazai osamu + gn! reader — a conversation by the sea. a morning of quiet contemplation.

author's note: was feeling mentally ill at 2am while listening to lana del rey unreleased and shat this out. can be read as both platonic and romantic! this is set between odasaku's death and dazai's departure from the mafia. i hope i portrayed pm dazai well enough. listen to some ocean sounds while reading for ambience. read on ao3 here. wc: 2930 words.

The foaming blue waves roll softly on the docks, the wooden boards of the pier damp and rotted over the years, silently standing against the ocean currents. The dock workers shuffle through the shipment yard in the early morning hours, sun risen but obscured by heavy clouds. The cold, salty breeze pricks the cheeks of the brunet, leaving a pink hue wherever they gently brush. He was here to watch the sunrise, took you with him, but the hours have already passed and he couldn't tell when the inky black of the night disappeared and was replaced by the greyish blues he sees now. It's always possible to miss things even when they are in your sight the whole time— everything slips past his fingers too easily.

You are still here beside him, wires tangled between the two of you, sharing earpieces; he's never been a fan of your tastes in music, but he's beginning to get used to it. The same way you've made your way into his life; unpredictable, unwelcome, yet needed. Puffs of fog hang around the two; winter's over, but it's still very much cold. Atleast, that's what he thought when he put his coat over your shoulders. It doesn't fit him, it doesn't fit you. Instead, it hangs off the edges of your shoulders like a heavy weight, meant for someone else to bear. Not him, not you.

The song repeats over and over, but he does not feel like clicking to the next one. The endless loop of songbirds, crashing waves, featherlight melodies; there is something comforting in familiarity. Even if it is merely temporary. The sky is empty and grey, so he naturally looks down below. The spot he chose for the two of you was perfect the night before, when everything shrouded in the cold blanket of the midnight hours, playing games and laughing about silly anecdotes to distract yourselves. Even as the both of you were covered in dried blood and sitting with trembling hands from the action of the evening before; it was absurd, but ignoring reality made everything a little bit easier, if only for the little pockets of time you both had. Anything that kept you both sane, wasn't it what you both wanted?

But now the night is gone and he can look at the drop down below, legs dangling off the edge; there's a vague feeling of disappointment somewhere under his skin. It's another day under the sun where nothing ever happens. The thrill of being on the edge of death will creep again at night, but daylight hours were largely sleepy affairs; everything that was worth happening only did once the sun went down. Atleast he has the solace of being around someone he actually likes the presence of. Your eyes flit over the scene down below. The shuffle of life looks distant from this height and when you strain your ears the garbled, vague voices of dockhands reaches your ears, but it's all so far away. There's always a quiet temptation that pulls on the mind; to leave this little bubble of fragile, short lived peace and join the waking world again, to cross this height and meet life where you can feel its signs. For there's no life in the dull chocolate brown gaze that you can feel affixed to the side of your face. Still, you like his company. He's easy to be around, even if he goes out of his way to be troublesome for certain people, like a specific ginger boy you're both familiar with. There is something deliberately performative about it, however; his dramatics are for his amusement, but there is a layer of irony so subtle in his excesses that sometimes, it feels like a mockery of something. Of what, you cannot tell. Your gaze doesn't meet his, mind consumed by the tides below, edged white with seafoam and painted a muted blue by the sky. It's not because you feel uncomfortable holding his gaze, like certain other people do—in truth you've always found something unique in it, because it's only natural that when you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back. Right now, however, you felt like any eye contact could ruin this moment, and once that happens, you both will begin the same loop that has defined this life for the two of you.

You're tired by this point. He can tell how you yawn every few seconds, and he knows he's kept you here for too long, but he's not one to ever feel satisfied when it comes to things like this. "Tired?" He asks flicking open his box of cigarettes and handing you one. That might just make you more sleepy, but you didn't seem to care when you took out cigarette from the box and flipped open your lighter. The blue flame lit the stick in his mouth first, then yours, and was shut with a flick of your thumb. "Kinda. You know, maybe we shouldn't have stayed up playing games all night. I think I'm gonna pass out and I can't even sleep in today, man."

"Your fault for asking for rematches for six straight hours. Your win-lose ratio is hilarious."

"I am not a quitter."

"That's right, you're a loser instead. So much better!"

"Shut it, mummy boy." You scoff, tapping him lightly on his arm with the cigarette in retaliation. It doesn't connect, but he doesn't spare a second before gasping. Though, it wouldn't exactly be the first time either of you have tried putting out cigarettes on each other. As a joke, of course. Punchline unknown.

"That hurt!!"

"I didn't even touch you."

"It's the principle of it!" He complained, resting his chin on the heel of his bandaged wrist.

"You're ridiculous, I swear. Next time, I'm gonna win."

"Wanna bet on that?"

"…No."

"Thought so." He huffed, exhaling smoke.

Petty things like this mattered little to you anyway. Even during the mundane minutes where nothing seemed to happen, you never bothered to cure your boredom anywhere else. Even when it would be so easy to point out that you really had no one better to be with, he never taunted you with it. There had grown a silent understanding between the two of you that he'd rather keep it that way. It's not that you had very few friends from a lack of trying either, but friendships in the mafia were mostly superficial. After one point, you had begun to retreat into yourself, at the very least, emotionally. It was simply the nature of things. Even when you tried to reach out to someone else and connect, it felt wrong. There was something unfit and dishonest about it, like trying to find love in a brothel.

Still, for the better or worse, you both were close friends, whether you both said it out loud or not didn't matter because where he is, there's always you not too far away.

When the silence falls again, the acrid smoke curls around the both of you in silence, dissipating into the morning air as you both watch. Once the wind begins to pick up, Dazai adjusts the lapels of the coat draped on you a little. A mundane gesture, but you appreciated it. Still…button ups and bandages couldn't be enough. "Aren't you cold?" He responds with a noncommittal hum. "Kind of, but it feels good." The ocean draft was cold, but soft. A feathery touch.

However, you'd rather not risk him getting sick, even if he would love the excuse to skip out on work. You shift the coat so that it is draped upon the two of you, the black trenchcoat enveloping the two of you. It fit better this way, you think, the weight of it not as heavy when shared. Dazai, despite his earlier nonchalance, does take the lapel on his end and pull it tighter on his shoulder. His bandaged fingers no longer tremble as much, fiddling with the beaded bracelet on his wrist instead, and the crab charm hanging from it. It's silly, but it hasn't left his wrist in years. Or yours. Underneath bandages, shirt cuffs and heavy black coats, the weight of childhood presses down with a gentle reminder. Don't forget who you were.

After all, people don't simply become anew when they grow up; rather the years build upon them like successive shells. The way nacre builds around pearls. But it always seemed to you like your shell was never hard enough for this place; every day felt uncertain, like being thrown into the deep end of a pool for the first time. Then there were the times where you felt like you could almost forget all of that, the little pockets of normalcy within the chaos. Normalcy with him. It wasn't enough, but it was enough to remind you that sometimes, it was worth it to be alive. You were only afraid that one day, it will no longer be enough. That there would be a day when your soul will be steeped in the same loneliness as his, the same mafia black that painted his life in broad strokes.

Still, you had your solace in the fact that Dazai too, seemed to be changing, even if it was in a way that was subtle for most people. He didn't seem to throw himself into death's welcoming arms as often anymore, or with the same passion. Something had changed, but you couldn't tell what it was. You didn't know how to ask, but you already knew that he wasn't going to answer. There was no explanation for it. You just knew. Looking down at the ledge, legs hanging off it, you wonder if his attempts had any merit. That perhaps you were simply desperate for any reason to hold on when you should've just given up and let go.

The port town is a little more lively in the morning now and the sounds that characterize this life still ring in your ears, though it is distant. Painfully so. When you look down at the drop below, gaze over the wooden dock and the turbulent waves, there is a strange thought in your mind. A sort of distressing temptation, some sort of a call that makes you want to close the distance that separated you from the rest of humanity. It appears out of nowhere, but stays in the back of your mind. A siren call to the ground that you don't dare answer. You pull your legs up and rest them on the concrete, slightly away from the ledge. His eyes follow the movement, but he says nothing of it. There was no explanation for it. He just knew. He does the same, placing his legs on the ledge instead of letting them dangle, an arm around your shoulders. "Dazai, can I ask a question?" Your tone was softer, less aggressive than it was during your banter. "Yeah, what is it?"

You extinguish the lit cigarette on the concrete. "You ever get that weird feeling? A temptation to fall? Not wanting to, but the thought feels…"

"…Compelling, yeah. Why do you ask?"

"I don't really know. I don't think I want to die. Sometimes I'm not sure of that either."

Dazai hums, a noncommittal sound. You've been changing lately too, this he knows, but not yet enough to truly consider such a solution. He knew you, how you seemed to still have some sort of a hope for living; a meaning that seemed to be lost on both of you but very much there. He had thought that the nature of death and unbridled vice that gripped the mafia would be enough to give him a reason to live, but some days, he feels a sort of unfounded jealousy towards you. That though you seemed to not know your reasons, you never realized the futility of your existence. Not in the same way he did. In that sense, your presence here felt out of place, discordant; sometimes he thinks if he shouldn't have dragged you down with him.

Eurydice, after all, is not supposed to follow Orpheus to hell.

But this story is all upside down and inside out, wrong in its very nature; meant to evoke a certain disgust in whoever witnessed it.

Even God would turn away.

"It's just a thought. You don't want to die." Dazai remarks, uncharacteristically sincere for once.

He wonders, how long will you hold onto that dying light in your eyes?

"Yeah. I mean, I don't think I do. It's just… living is so exhausting."

"And it's so easy to die, isn't it?"

You nod quietly, but don't agree with him entirely. It is easy to die, especially in the mafia, but you won't willingly seek it. The permanence of death still terrifies you, and you're not that courageous. You don't want to face the devil you know. You'd rather sit here on the ledge with the one you do.

"Maybe. But sometimes it feels worth it to be alive. And I don't want to miss that."

"Even if it's tiring and meaningless?"

"… For now, yes."

The look in his eyes has changed, softened to one of resignation, and it scares you. Even when you are looking straight at him, you can glean nothing from his eyes. You could vaguely guess what a person usually thought of by their expression. But he was different, he always was different; the times when you could tell what he felt merely off a glance were gone a long time back.

"I guess we can't see eye to eye on it, then."

He wonders if there would ever be a day where you start seeing what he sees; if there would be a day you'd come home with your hopes crushed and he'd be able to say something stupid like, I told you so.

He didn't know if he wanted that day to come.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you observed his far off expression for a few more seconds, before looking away. The question that leaves your mouth feels jarring, without any proper forethought that can soften how rough it feels on the tongue. But it's not your fault there's only one thing you could think of at the moment.

"…Do you think people who can't understand each other can be friends?"

"Understanding or relating? They're different things."

That threw you in for another loop. The worst part was that you didn't even know. You know your friend's sorrows, you know the emptiness that runs through him more than anyone— yet you could never truly piece where it started and where it'd end, nor could you feel it in yourself. No matter how much you wished you could. "Either."

"I think… people should atleast be able to understand each other when they're friends, no? You can't really care about someone you know nothing about. Relating isn't that important, though."

"… Are we friends, then?"

The moment's silence is heavy between the two of you as Dazai thinks over your words. Were you his friend? Here, in the morning light, under the same coat, wearing matching crab bracelets? Maybe you are his friend, but he wonders if he knows what friends are even supposed to be like. You're not like Odasaku or even Chuuya, though with the latter he has a complicated relationship, yet could still call his friend sometimes. You two were close, but he was not blind to the very fundamental differences between the two of you. The chasm of hope that separated you. A space that'd only grow wider once he leaves, and he knows he has to. Still, for some reason he feels compelled to take your hand and hold it lightly in his. Are we friends, then?

"Yeah, I think we are." He answers, with a small smile on his face.

Ultimately, he didn't think any of it mattered. For the better or worse, after all, the both of you were together. Your faint, content smile at the confirmation makes him feel like it wasn't wrong to say it.

"Really? Well, that's good enough for me."

He had the urge to retort back with another quip, something that would derail the conversation and steer it back towards the usual banter; something familiar and easy between the two of you. However, this time, he doesn't follow through with it, instead stewing in the temporary discomfort that comes with sincerity. For once, he feels like being honest with you, even if it means not punctuating this heavy silence. Letting the sounds of the waves and the faint music in the shared earphones be the only voice in his ears. You seemed content with the same, still sitting by his side and sharing the coat, pinky fingers interlinked loosely.

Perhaps you did not need to understand his sorrow or feel it as your own, and he does not have to understand your exhaustion and hope for the future. Everyday is all anyone can ever have, and if these days were a little more bearable like this, there was no reason to deliberately cut this off. There is a passing thought; that perhaps in the coming days, when he finally decides to leave this teenage wasteland for good, he could take you with him. After all, where he was, you weren't too far away. If fallen angels exist, so do risen demons, and perhaps this time, Eurydice will make it back to the surface; for this story is all wrong, and that's alright.