the sunset stains the sky in hues of apricot and blood as dazai lounges beside you on the rooftop, bandaged hands tucked under his head like a makeshift pillow.
the world is quiet up here — just the rustle of wind through your clothes, the hum of the city far below, and dazai’s rhythmic sighs as he watches the clouds drift like lost thoughts.
“wouldn’t this be the perfect time to die?” he says quietly, half lidded eyes turning toward you, voice as gentle as a breeze. “the sky’s kind enough to make it look beautiful.”
you roll your eyes. “don’t be morbid, osamu.”
he grins — boyish, there was a trace of exhaustion in his eyes — or maybe it was something else entirely, something you weren’t ready to name, to unravel, “i’m being poetic. there’s a difference.”
you lean back on your elbows beside him, legs dangling over the edge. “you always say that. and yet i never know if you’re joking or not.”
“that’s the fun of me, isn’t it?” his voice tilts playfully, but something in his expression falters — a crack in the mask he’s worn so long it might as well be his skin.
you don’t say anything for a moment. you just reach over, lacing your fingers with his. and despite all his dramatics, he doesn’t pull away.
“maybe,” you whisper, “if you stopped looking for a beautiful way to die… you’d start noticing how beautiful it is to live.”
he stares at your joined hands like they’ve betrayed him. then he closes his eyes, smile softening, “…you’re dangerous, you know that?”
you smirk. “more dangerous than the port mafia?”
“far more,” he murmurs. “they never made me want to stay.”
Dazai would be more likely to fall in love with someone involved with the arts.
For someone who's soul is a complex, melancholic web, a person who could express and display that through mere actions is more than fascinating, and it's that fascination that transforms into love.
Say, take an author for example.
From the way their words would flow, to their posture while writing, it would mystify Dazai terribly. The way their fingers grasp the pen, the way they hover above the keyboard in thought, and they sound they make when their knuckles are being popped. From the way their face would become shadowed by their hair while in deep focus, to the very way that hair falls across their face slowly. It won't be the cause of his love, but a contributing factor.
His love would stem from their understanding of him, after all, authors and artists are rumored to be rather intelligent when it comes to that. From their descriptions, to their drawings, to their voices, to their movement of their body, Dazai would admire it all
Dazai loves eye contact he savors every little microsecond of gazing at you bc he knows you squirm from being perceived and can't hold it as long as he does.
DAZAI LOVES EYE CONTACT AND MEMORIZING EVERY DETAIL ABOUT YOU BECAUSE HES SCARED ONE DAY HE WONT GET THE CHANCE TO AGAIN.
he loves to say the most lewd things to your face and when you have to literally look away from the sheer embarrassment he gently turns your chin to face him again and smirks at you because he knows he pushed the right buttons to mess you up.
"You need to stop biting your lip so much, it's distracting, you know. I may have to call out of work to process this turmoil of emotions you're putting me through. I demand compensation~"
"It's a habit, Osamu, it's hard not to."
this just makes him whine like a little kid, huffing and puffing but slowly trickling his eyes down to your bottom lip as if in a trance. checking you out mid-tantrum is his specialty.
"But it only makes me wanna bite it instead. Like, soooo badlyyyyy..."
then you do it again, you break the rules and avert your eyes like you always do. don't you know you can never escape the watchful eye of the one who adores you the most? how naughty! sexy as hell
"You think me biting the dead skin off my lip is hot...?"
this causes him to reach out and pull your face back to him with a gentle but insistent hand as he begins to rub your bottom lip with his thumb in featherlike strokes. he mumbles, eyes dilating from a hunger he always fails to hide from you. why would he? you're just too much for the senses, and he doesn't know if he wants to kiss you or swallow you whole.
"No, but I think you looking me in the eye while I flirt with you is fucking lovely."
My favorite type of Dazai/ Dazai head canon is that he thinks he’s the controller in a relationship but it’s actually the opposite and he’s just a lovesick fool that would do anything to get his S/O’s attention.
They seem focused on something else? Almost instantly Dazai feels his hands twitch with the worst withdrawal of his life. His need to be wanted by something in this shitty life causing him to bend backwards and say even the most shameless things to get you to focus on him again.
And you know that everyone around you tries to warn you about the demon, fearing that Dazai is manipulating you because of his twisted past but you have this boy so wrapped around your finger that if you ever did tell him to do something, he wouldn’t even hesitate. He would kill for you if you truly desired it. Man has absolutely no shame.
The first time he allows you to change his bandages becomes like a drug for him, so much so that Dazai resorts to “accidentally” spilling coffee on them everyday just so he can have your soft gentle fingers cradle him and treat him like the most precious thing in the universe. For once he feels protected for the first time, he can never go back.
Before you Dazai would always remain in power, especially in terms of intimate relationships, always priding himself as the seducer but never becoming the seduced. He strives in being the puppeteer but after every kiss with you he finds himself begging for more, even getting on his knees if it means he can taste that sweet piece of heaven one more time.
For Dazai may claim that he is in control but I think we all know who really holds the reigns on the demon, and it isn’t him. 🤭
notes: use of pet names angel, love, and bella; WARNING for mentions about suicidal ideation,, not heavy angst, it's just dazai. and also the reader thinking she'd be fine dying if she's with dazai. not in a manipulative way, just a way of loving him in every universe and state <3 lots of hurt/comfort, overthinking, and insecurity. basically both dazai and the reader are horrible at communication so they have to figure it out together. established relationship implied. takes place during cannibalism arc after dazai is shot. civilian or ada reader not specified on purpose. thank you for reading!
she was the first person they called when they found out.
well– the first after an ambulance had been called. after that, she was the next most important person to call.
not important enough to have any part in saving his life, though. not just as a doctor; she wasn’t good enough to prevent him from thinking of killing himself every day. she wasn’t important enough to keep him from throwing himself into the way of danger, not worth enough that he thought about what would affect her before he wound up in these situations–
it was wrong of her to be angry at him for something like this. she knew what she’d been getting into when she first met him. when she first started falling for him, and when she confessed. she knew all along what he was like, and she still loved him anyway.
yes, he had a past. yes, he joked about committing suicide every day. yes, he was reckless. yes, he was a mastermind. yes, he was selfless and willing to always put everything above himself. yes, he was bad at communication. yes, he was worthy of love. yes, he could give love.
relationships were a work in progress. they would always be until the day she ended up buried next to him, hopefully. deep down, a part of her had already forgiven him for the episode of panic and stress she'd had as soon as she'd recieved the broken call from atsushi. but the other half knew it also wasn’t wrong of her to feel upset when she'd heard that her boyfriend had been shot in an alleyway.
she knew him well enough to know he knew he was putting himself in risk of danger in that alleyway, whatever he'd been doing there. she reckoned he probably knew he was going to be shot, too. and if he knew all that, she just wanted to know why he didn’t give her a heads-up. she wasn't asking for all the details. even just a text, moments before, saying "hey. i'm about to end up in the hospital. someone might will call you. don't be too worried." she didn't expect them dating to miraculously change him into a man who didn't crave death at every moment, but had it been so wrong of her to hope that maybe being in a relationship would cause him to think twice before getting himself in situations like these, no matter how much he assured her he knew what he was doing?
one day, as much as she hoped it wouldn’t be the case, she feared there’d be something he failed to account for. one day, he'd go missing, and no one would be able to find him, and it'd stay that way. she feared one day they wouldn't be so lucky as to find him bleeding out in an alleyway when there was still a chance to save him.
but there she went again, being angry at dazai, then being angry at herself for being angry at him, and then shoving down her feelings before she even had the time to process them. because she didn’t want to be the overbearing girlfriend who always plagued and worried about her boyfriend, but she couldn’t help it when her boyfriend quite literally wanted and was trying to kill himself.
everyone she had talked to had agreed that it wasn’t wrong of her to feel worried about her partner and that they would support her if she decided to distance herself from him for her own sake, but she could never bring herself to do that. if anything, to be completely honest, she’d rather she die with him than leave him to die on his own.
maybe she was weird or morbid for thinking that way. maybe she needed to seek help. but all she knew was that she truly loved him, but maybe he didn’t feel the same way. maybe their entire relationship was just temporary for him and he didn’t want to die with her at his side. maybe death was something sacred for him that he wanted to experience alone, or she just wasn't the perfect one for him and he was still looking for that "special one." she wasn’t entirely sure what his thoughts were on the concept, or what he really, truly thought of her. she didn't know if she was really of any value to him.
maybe she could figure it out for herself. maybe she was a horrible, terrible, awful girlfriend for not knowing what her boyfriend thought of committing suicide with her, but she had no idea. she wasn't sure what was okay for her to bring up, and what wasn't. how was one supposed to go about asking their partner's opinion on a double suicide? she had been frozen by this fear as she stood outside her hospital door, but it was something that had been on her mind long before now. the fear of bringing up something that might ruin their relationship started even before they were dating; with even the thought of confessing her feelings. even though she'd gotten past that, it never became easier bringing up touchy subjects with him, out of fear of triggering something without the intention to.
she had been stuck outside his door for more than ten minutes since she'd been left by a nurse to open his door and check on him. she was unsure of what to think of herself, and what to do. her hand was fisted and raised, ready to knock but then she decided ‘i’m the first person on his emergency contacts list. i don’t need to knock; he’s mine. he probably wants to see me. i’m his.’
she swung the door open.
what was she doing with her face? what was she supposed to be saying? why had she decided to come in so abruptly? she should have knocked after all. she was reminded of the fact that she was not enough to stop osamu from wounding up in a hospital in the first place. she didn't have any right to barge in like this.
then, all of her worries melted away when he turned away from the window to see who’d entered his room and his face softened.
“[y/n],” he whispered, and she saw his bandaged hands loosen their grip on the sheets he'd been holding. his shoulders dropped, and his whole demeanor seemed to relax.
“osamu,” she called his name back, letting her body do what felt normal. she was glad it had a sense of what to do, because she felt like she was at a loss for words. if she opened her mouth, she wasn’t sure if a tone of concern or of anger would come out.
she took a seat in the chair pulled up to the side of his bed, loosely intertwining her fingers with his nearby hand. the bandages that adorned his skin didn’t bother her. in fact, she was often overcome with an urge to kiss over every inch of his body and tell him how beautiful he was. the hospital gown he wore was what bothered her; she thought everything about him was beautiful and she couldn’t stand the thought that there’d be a scar on his body because of her. because she hadn’t done a good enough job of telling him how loved and important he was. that he didn’t think of himself nor her as important enough to keep himself out of danger.
her lips were pressed into a grim line as she ran a thumb over his knuckles. she wished he would eat more.
“everything go well with the surgery?” she asked, talking softly as if the silent atmosphere in the room was fragile.
he hummed in response, “yeah, they took good care of me. i should be good to leave by tomorrow afternoon.”
her head perked up at the answer, “that soon already? are you sure?”
“yep! as long as i take it easy, they’ll let me go tomorrow which is good. thing are tense between the mafia and agency right now. ranpo and kunikida are fine, but we'll have to work together with them against the one who caused all this, and i’m the only one who can faciliate that.”
she liked it when he explained everything to her, it made her feel helpful, as if at least he could share his thoughts with someone else rather than keeping them all wound up in his head. she nodded along, trying to push down the concerns she had for him. the mafia wasn’t always nice to work with; even if dazai was right and their cooperation was the best course of action, that didn’t mean they would agree to it–at least not without a fight.
“you are going to take it easy when you’re discharged. right?” she gave him a look, in which he gave her a wry smile in return.
“of course i will, bella! who do you think i am? and i’ll have you, my guardian angel to make sure of it, won’t i?” he laughed, squeezing her hand as he talked boldly.
it had been easy for her to forget that he would want her by his side but the reminder made her smile, “you’re right. i'll be there to make sure you don’t hurt yourself again.” she almost added something else to her sentence but the "again" spoke well for itself, she thought. she didn’t want to ruin the mood so she kept it vague and her mouth shut. dazai looked at her expectedly, as if he was waiting for her to say something else but she only smiled at him, “i think i’m going to go take a walk real quick, just to clear my head. is that okay? i’ll be back soon.” she made an excuse as she stood up, turning to walk towards the door of his room before a hand gripped her wrist, pulling her backward.
she yelped as she fell onto the bed, flush with his chest. she could feel and hear the groan he let out when she hit his torso and on reflex tried to push off of him to lighten the pressure on his wound but his grip remained strong around her wrist, pulling her closer.
the prick of pain that shot through his stomach was a small price to pay for having his girlfriend on his chest, where he had wanted her from the moment she’d walked through the door. he wrapped his arms around her back, keeping her secure and from escaping his arms.
she allowed herself to be held in his arms, knowing it was useless to try to fight it now. she sighed, trying to enjoy the moment as her ear rested against his chest, allowing her to hear his heartbeat while she looked out the hospital window to the orange colored sky.
“why take a walk away from me?” he mumbled playfully, nose buried in her hair. when she didn't respond, he placed a gentle hand on both sides of her face, tenderly guiding her head up to look her in his eyes; warm, chocolate-brown pools of adoration.
this is pathetic.
how did she come in here upset and worried about him and end up being the one comforted?
“you’re thinking too much in that pretty head of yours, angel. you’re thinking way too much about things way out of your control. that isn’t good. i can’t let you worry yourself to death like this, love. you gotta let me know what’s up. pretty please?” his voice was soft and pleading, but she winced at the mention of the word death, averting her eyes from him, instead opting to lay her head back on his chest, focusing on the steady rhythm inside of it. it was the surest sound in the world, the only thing she felt that could silence her head at the moment.
“sorry, angel,” he brushed a hand through her hair again, “didn’t mean to upset you, but i can tell, you know. and it makes me worried. i want to know what’s upsetting you so much.”
“says you,” she replied, huffing in frustration. he waited for her to continue, and she did, “you think you’re worried? i’m worried. about you! you’re the problem.” his fingers stopped moving at the mention of him.
“‘don’t worry about me,’ i can already tell what you're about to say. ‘yes i know i was shot but don’t worry it was all part of an elaborate plan i didn’t tell you about after promising to try to communicate better,’” she mimicked him, trying to explain to him her point. she feels the hum in his chest as he processes her words and starts to grasp it. “it’s just– i’m sorry if that’s mean. and i’m sorry for worrying because you don’t need that added to your plate, but i can’t help it. i didn’t want to tell you this at the start because i don’t want to overstep your boundaries or give you one more thing to fix. i don’t care much about you breaking your promise to communicate better because it’s a lot to ask and it can’t always be done. i know you’ve had a difficult past and i don’t mind, osamu. i’m not mad, all i want is for you to be safe. and i know that’s a lot to ask from a suicidal man and that’s why i don’t know where i have a say in all of this– but i love you and it hurts for me to see you put yourself in danger so carelessly without telling anyone, as if i’m not enough to make you think twice before injuring yourself. sometimes– sometimes it feels like i’m just something for you to toy with before you die. something for you to entertain yourself with before you inevitably end up leaving. and i don’t want you to leave. i don’t want you to die, or at the very least without me– but i also know that’s nearly impossible to ask of you.”
he had started to rub her scalp as some sort of apology while she’d explained her feelings to him, and she still couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes. she felt pathetic and weak with the tears in her eyes, and even worse when they began to slip from her eyes, no doubt seeping through his shirt and bandages. “you have every right and place to say whatever you would like, bella.” he spoke up after a beat of silence as he thought. still, it didn’t make her feel any better. he could just be saying what he knew she wanted to hear, but what she wanted was the truth. how much time did she have left with him? how much was she worth? was he leaving soon?
“you're the closest person to me and you deserve to say whatever you would like and to know what’s going on. i love you, too,” she could practically hear the smile in his voice as he said those words which made her face turn red as she turned away from the window to hide it in his hospital gown. her own confession had slipped out of her without a second thought, but she hadn’t meant for this to be a serious moment of testing how much he loved her. “i wouldn’t have agreed to try to change if i didn’t want to, but that’s why i made you that promise. i do want to change and be better for you, whatever that entails. i’d rather talk to you about my plans even if you don’t like them so that you know what’s going on rather than leaving you in the dark. because i never want you to feel like you’re just a toy or anything of the sort. you’re so much more than that, bella, and i should show as much. i’ve been and am forever grateful for your love and patience, [y/n]. i don’t deserve either. ask whatever you want of me and i will do it. will you give me another chance, my angel?”
“of course,” she mumbled in response, nuzzling and kissing the center of his chest, finally feeling the truth and love behind his words spread through her body like a warm fire. “i love you,” she whispered, not expecting him to hear it.
“i love you too,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to her scalp.
a noise from the window made them both jump as they turned to see a spotted orange cat with a sardine in its mouth waiting outside. it was posed too well to be a normal cat, and the pair shared a glance as she moved to start to get off of him.
“do you want to come along with me this time, bella?”
he pulls away softly, exhaling gently as he gazed over your disturbed face and overly relaxed body. burying your face into the junction of his bandaged neck further.
"[y/n].." the brunette feigned a chuckle and stroked your velvety locks to capture your undivided attention, "[y/n]." dazai whispered, the slightest smile appearing on his usually cryptic features. but you further concluded through a hazy gaze, that his smile, usually concealed with a layer of deceit, was ever so genuine. "hmm?" you smiled back, a subdued groan pulling from your chest as you stretch your limbs, arms quickly encircling back to hugging his slim waist. "i wanna show you something.." he murmurs, lips placed on the top of your head with a pout. raising a brow at your boyfriend's proposal, you lift your gaze to his umber eyes.
"my bandages." dazai fiddles with his fingers almost awkwardly, grazing over the rougher texture of the bandages; a rather different approach compared to his skin. "what about them?" you question, reckoning to leave his turbulent concerns and just bury yourself back into his chest. the young detective huffs out a frustrated sigh; almost childishly, annoyed that you were completely fine with his bandaged limbs and didn't get what he wanted.
"off. i think i wanna take them off." —a phenomenon you would've never thought dazai osamu would ever allow to, especially suggest. you slowly nod, your fingers grazing over his knuckles, "you sure?" dazai liked the texture of bandages, it hid his skin, what laid underneath, and the texture was just.. comforting. a proud pleasure of his the detective never tried to hide; the shielding feeling of bandages. the brunette seemed nervous, almost terrified that he was going to let this go right now. dazai figured that if you were going to be with him, you should be with all of him. "mhm, i.. i wanna feel you forreal."
and so, carefully, he unwrapped the bandages off his fingers, then his arms, then his neck. and soon, the brunette sheepishly bared all of him to you—his version of all of him, at least.
dazai.. no, osamu, took this time to run his bare fingers through your silken hair. lips parting ever so softly as a pink blush tinted his cheeks, unfamiliar to this stricken feeling of just you. the detective giggles softly at your lovestruck smile, admiring such a rare and beautiful sight. osamu reached beneath your shirt, hands ghosting over your waist delicately, pulling you in closer for his fingers to stop and caress your lower back. you happily conceal your face into his bare neck again, intaking the soft scent of alcohol and fresh laundry. when your lips are pressed against his neck, dazai stirs and giggles faintly, moving his arms into encircling your shoulders, pulling you close to just card his fingers through your hair. intake your delightful and familiar scent, and giggle at each other's intimate vulnerability.
during a night such as this, being completely vulnerable to each other was rare, but you'd continue to bask in it for many nights, evenings, and days to come.
becoming exclusive with dazai would be an all of a sudden kind of thing.
while other relationships bloom from first dates and long phone calls and flowers, dazai just seamlessly engrains himself into every aspect of your life until one day you realize how close you are to him. maybe it would start off as a bond between coworkers—you met him through the agency, and he clung to you almost immediately.
it was almost as if he had marked his territory, gluing himself to you so that everyone around knew you were his. constantly dropping by your desk to see what you were up to, bringing you coffee in the morning, or helping you with reports long after everyone else had gone home.
once he was your buddy at work, he found ways to see you outside of the agency. hey, i found this café i think you’d like. hey, you want to run some errands for kunikida with me? hey, ranpo wants a snack from this cool vendor, you should come with me. it was easy for you to say yes—you were into him, and he could tell.
and before you knew it, he was inviting himself over for a drink, or a movie, or help with paperwork because your wifi is faster than mine! or the newest dish he’d taught himself to cook. and then without realizing, you were with each other all the time, joined at the hip. dazai’s head in your lap while you stared at the tv, dazai’s toothbrush on your bathroom counter next to your own, dazai’s clothes in your closet, dazai kissing you on his way out the door for work.
your boyfriend, dazai, who you didn’t even realize was your boyfriend.
TW: Ass spanking, Dazai harassment, reposted since I accidentally deleted the original post😭
"I'm not exactly sure if I wanna have this conversation with you"
Standing in front of the desk, DAZAI chuckled as he leaned over to have a bigger influence on his coworker. Mischief was sparkling in his hazel eyes, and the smile he had on was known to be a symbol of his goofiness.
"You see Kunikida, I'm just sad for all the things you're missing out on"
Kunikida didn't even raise his head to look at him. He merely kept typing his —actually Dazai's— report while postponing beating the shit out of him, partly for the report and partly for the sake of their current conversation. Regardless of his lack of interest, Dazai joyfully continued rambling in his ear about women.
"If there's one thing I find tolerable in this dull, unamusing world, it's definitely the ladies. Ah, when my eyes fall on their enchanting faces and they smile at me, the pleasure is like sucking the soul out of my restless frame"
"...That doesn't sound healthy or charming at all, Dazai"
"You don't get it!" The brunet dramatically shook his head to the side. "I guess you never will, until you fall in the grasp of their delicate arms, and taste their sweet chap stick"
"If you don't shut up I will smack you with this laptop"
"Ah the second your lips lock, she softly hums and loses herself into you, hands travelling on your neck to your earlobe, And you only sigh and softly bite her bottom lip. And then my favorite part, which is when you gently lower your hands on his waist and squeeze her—"
Slap!
Suddenly, silence was the loudest thing in the room instead of his partner's voice, and this uncalled for event made Kunikida look up to see what caused this enjoyable occurrence, only to be met with Dazai's dumbfounded expression and widened eyes pointing at you, who was standing behind him, holding your hand with an irritated face.
"Ouch! That hurt! Your thin ass is just bones ain't it?"
Dazai was still lost for words, speechlessly looking back at you. You on the other hand, simply rolled your eyes and walked away. "Huh! I guess you really are just an asshole. You bony ass better not have broken my fucking hand"
Nobody spoke for a minute. The man put an arm on his ass and tried to figure out what the hell had just happened, when he heard the blonde's teasing voice.
"I think you should start saving for a butt implant"
