Desperate times call for desperate measures
Summary: You leave your small twins with Dazai and Chuuya and hope the two of them can manage their fatherly-duties while you take an hour of much needed ‘me time’. Scratch that, you just needed long enough to take a shower in order to feel human again before going back to being a mom.
Pairing: Dazai x Chuuya xfem! Reader
Inspired by Sweetober prompt 8: Napping together
Warning: Cursing, hints at depression/ postpartum depression, New parents/exhausted parents.
Enjoy~
______________________________________________________________
You were going to kill Chuuya.
No, you decided as you paced back and forth around the house, rocking the fussing twins in your arms. You were going to kill Mori for dragging your Chuuya out of his parental leave to deal with whatever shit Dazai had gotten himself into. You had thought the suicidal maniac of a lover would have gotten more efficient on missions- or at the very least more considerate. Nope. Still, somehow, if one part of twin dark was sent on a mission, he’d get in sufficient shit to need the second one's assistance.
Responsible adults, your ass.
You sighed as the wailing continued with no amount of rocking, hushing, singing and pacing doing much to ease the tears. You were also silently cursing Chuuya for getting you pregnant with twins, why couldn’t it have been one to start with? Though you admitted as you looked down at the two crying balls of ginger, they were adorably cute; both took after their father in appearance,inheriting Chuuyas ginger hair and stunning blue eyes. With the only seeming resemblance to you being in their chins and petit nose.
You definitely picked the short straw you mused bitterly as another loud cry made your ears ring.
The ginger haired girl was crying and waving her doll around every now and then, getting it tangled in your hair or hitting you on the head with it with a surprising amount of strength. Her twin, an almost identical copy of her with slightly fluffier hair and larger eyes, was just gripping onto you and crying. He wasn’t wailing as loudly as his sister but the teardrops that rolled down his cheeks were larger, almost comical.
There was no doubt in your mind that they were setting each other off. And all this mess because you got distracted and missed nap time.
God you could feel yourself reaching your limit. What you’d give for just a little bit of time to yourself- a few hours was all you asked for. Something you hadn’t seen much of- if any after giving birth. As soon as the twins were born you got to spend a month in the hospital recovering before you and the babies were allowed home. Then it went downhill from there. First the wonderful nanny that you had picked out had to leave your services. The agency you hired her through was quick to send a replacement, but that woman got killed in an unfortunate plane crash. Getting another replacement was proving more challenging. Then almost directly after, despite being barely at home Dazai pulled from parental leave due to ‘emergencies’; first several back-to-back abroad missions where he’d only come home for a few days tops and then his last one for which he left over two months ago. You had Chuuya but even he had to go back into the office several times a week.In the best case. If that wasn’t making your existence miserable, suddenly Dazai needed backup out of the blue, forcing Chuuya to leave without warning in the middle of the night.
For the last two months you were completely alone.
You had to do everything; from childcare to household chores, to different parenting classes and doctors visits with the two. In the evenings after putting them to bed you’d be sitting and going through reports and reviewing mission statements to keep your lovers workload manageable and the department not at a standstill. It became your job to ensure subordinates were still sent out on missions and nothing critical, that couldn’t wait until their return, got missed. Then you’d get a little cleaning and food prep done, shower if you managed to do that before the babies woke up for their nightly feedings. When you’d crawl into bed you’d shut your eyes for twenty minutes at a time, plagued by nightmares of your partners drying and being a failure as a mother. When you’d finally calm your demons, the twins would get hungry again so you’d be up to warm the bottle for them before changing them and rocking them back to sleep. Sometimes you’d fall asleep right on the soft carpeted floor with both of them cuddling to your chest, sleeping a few hours longer than in their own beds.
Those mornings were your salvation.
You let out a loud groan, looking up at the ceiling as you felt tears sting your eyes. You didn’t know if children were meant to scream and cry so much. You didn’t know if you were doing this right or wrong. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do. You just wanted them to be healthy and happy- why couldn’t you do that? You brought them closer to your chest and pressed a kiss to each of their foreheads. “ Mama’s trying her hardest” you muttered as you continued to rock them “Mama would really really need a helping hand though.”
-
It seemed gods took pity on you just this once.
You nearly broke down crying or screamed out in joy when you heard the car pulling up to your driveway. Then silence before a key pushed into the lock followed by the door swinging opened.
“ Sweetheart we’re back!” Chuuya yelled as he kicked off his shoes. You heard Dazai’s voice muttering something to him, the bickering overshadowed by the twins' cries. You made quick way towards the hallway. The moment Chuuya and Dazai came into sight, new screams filled the house; excited cries of “ Dada” and “ papa” which bounced off the walls, a bitter reminder that you children were never this excited to see you.
You could see Chuuya chuckling, a bright expression on his face full of love and happiness. He didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered by the yelling- if anything it seemed to fill him with contagious happy energy and an eagerness to get his damned coat off so he could come to the children. Dazai, dressed in completely white attire, which resembled something between a prison uniform and the dresscode of asylum patients seemed less happy about the screaming. But even he had a smile playing on his lips as he hurried towards you at the same time as Chuuya, who had given up on hanging his coat and just threw it on the ground. The two were practically tripping over each other, with each ‘papa’ and ‘dad’ cry getting more and more eager to get to you, limbs frailing; hands, arms and snappy remarks at each others inability to get out of the others way.
Finally they seemed to remember how to walk and the bottleneck in your hallway was replaced by two adult men rushing towards you.
“ How are my loves?” Chuuya cheered looking far too happy as he hurried pressed a kiss to your children's heads. First the boy then the girl. Dazai did the same in the opposite order, both ignoring you and your puckered lips.
For a second a pang of jealousy hit your heart. You hadn’t seen your partners in over two months and before greeting you, their attention was on the children. Picture perfect fathers. Shitty lovers. And the second the thought entered your head you felt your heart drop to your stomach with guilt. In what sane world was a mother jealous of the attention her babies were getting? You should be happy and proud that both of your partners- not only the biological father- cared so deeply for the balls of joy you created. Though, you added almost bitterly, right now these two brought you anything but joy.
“ Here” you stated in a slightly bitter tone as you pawned over one kid per partner “ Do everyone a favour and act like fathers for longer than 30 seconds. I need some ‘me- time’ before I murder someone”
Chuuya and Dazai shared a look of bewilderment between each other as you stepped away from them. They had expected kisses, hugs and a warm dinner but got a kid each and a blank stare in return. Dazai stared at your retreating form with agap mouth for a moment before he stretched the little girl towards Chuuya; “ Here Chuuya be a good dad, me and Y/N have some catching up to do.”
You pretended to ignore what he said, the same way he ignored your comment about ‘me time’. Though you wondered if you should at the very least make them dinner before taking out that ‘me time’ moment.
“ Heeh stop being so bitter and just hold her, Mackerel.” Chuuya snapped trying to get the boy to settle in his arms “if your swimmers could actually swim they’d be your kids”
“ Don’t be such a slug about it” Dazai declared as he turned his attention away from Chuuya as the boy began sobbing again making Chuuya curse before attempting to pacify him. Zero attention to either Dazai or the girl in his arms.
In the process the girl-child who had just settled down, amusing herself by pulling on strands of Dazai’s grown out hair, turned her attention away from him and towards her crying brother. Seeing him cry, her eyes began to water.
In seconds Dazai’s attention was back to you; “ Ohh Belladonna you’d not be so cruel as to demand your newly returned partner whom you haven’t seen for months to be a father without sleep or proper meal “ Despite his dramatic words he shifted the girl to his other arm so her back was to her brother and began rocking her more quickly. His second hand was trying to keep her attention on the doll she had abandoned in favour of his hair. The very doll she had been hitting you with not even ten minutes earlier. Scratch your earlier thoughts. They were adults and older than you- they knew how to order in or warm up leftovers!
You sighed heavily before you went towards the kitchen and the fridge. “ Then you boys are in agreement that we stop at two right?” You questioned when you returned with a cold rattle for the boy. He was quick to grasp it in his hands before beginning to chew on it. The relief it brought was sufficient to stop the tears.
For now.
When you got no reply, you motioned between the two of them and then to the children in their arms. If you weren’t so tired you’d have laughed at the look of horror drawing of Dazai’s face as he realized you were serious, and then the very hurt expression at the mere idea of not having any children of his own with you. That look melted a piece of ice around your heart. “ Or can you manage to look after them for an hour while I take a shower in peace?”
Your lovers nodded eagerly, both giving you a salute before shuffling off towards the baby proofed living room with toys, a playpen and floor covered in soft playmats. Your eyes lingered long enough until they were out of sight before you headed upstairs to your bedroom. Once there you dragged yourself towards the chair by your make up table which had a thin layer of dust over your make up palettes. Serving as a bitter reminder of just how ‘much’ time you dedicated towards yourself in the past months. The thought plastered a bitter smirk on your face; no wonder you didn’t get as much as a kiss-hello from either Dazai or Chuuya.
You dropped in the chair with a heavy sigh and buried your head in your hands. You didn’t understand what was wrong with you. You didn’t understand where you were making mistakes; how could other mafia women manage to do so much more? More time with children, more work, more chores- many would even visit headquarters to spend lunch with their husbands.
Husbands- the word brought a bitter taste to your mouth. How long have you three been together already? How many milestones have you celebrated? Missions, promotions, twins. Plans for extending the family with at least one more kid- Dazai’s. And still your ring finger remained bare. In fact after the icy greeting today you doubted your relationship would ever move anywhere positive from this standstill.
You heard steps outside your bedroom, irritated and heavy before the door to your bedroom swung open with Dazai’s usual dramatic appearance “ Ahh my sweet Belladonna my heart-”
You didn’t need to turn around to know the look he was wearing.” One hour” you stated “ Or no more kids. Your choice”
The door closed as quickly as it had opened.
The peaceful silence didn’t last for long. Though you didn’t know how long you were sitting in your thoughts, salvaging a moment of being alone, you knew it couldn’t have been longer than five minutes before you were interrupted again. This time the footsteps outside your door were calmer and more confident. Their owner opened the door very gently. You closed your eyes biting back the frustration as you heard Chuuya’s half hesitant whisper “Sweetheart..”
“ What is it, Chuuya?” You still didn’t have it in you to face him.
“ If you want to soak in the bath, it's ready any minute now” You nodded, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so cold to him. Especially when he went out of his way to do something nice for you. “ Also, do you know where the nursing bottles are?”
There it was.
“ There are some prepared bottles in the fridge; just place them in boiling water for a few seconds until they’re body temperature. Not too hot.” You rubbed your temple as you spoke, fighting off the want to cry and scream much like the children downstairs. These were things he as their father was supposed to know. Or at least be able to figure it out on his own. He could lead an entire faction on his own, why couldn’t he handle a baby or two?
After your reply you heard Chuuya linger in the doorway for a few moments. You pictured him opening and closing his mouth, hesitating as he thought over what to do. A hopefully side of you hoped he’d come in and wrap his arms around you and just hold. Just fucking hold you for a moment without the children being present. Then another cry from downstairs and he was gone; the door shutting quietly behind himself.
You waited for a moment, gathering your strengths before leaving the safety of your room, rushing quietly through the small hallway, trying not to waver at the sound of the children's cries. Once in the bathroom you closed and locked the door before leaning your back against it. Why did no one tell you that when you’d become a mother you’d become so alone while constantly surrounded by others?
Shaking your head you stripped before climbing into the baths. You let out a low moan as the feeling of bath salts soothed your skin. Then salvaged the moment of humanity as you dipped your head underwater with the realization you didn’t need to watch anyone while you washed. Then you reached for the shaving blade and shaving cream, getting rid of the hair on your body that annoyed you more than you’d ever wish to admit.
When you got out of the bathtub and showered off, you felt human. Like a sliver of being a woman was returned to you. Dressing in clean clothes only reinforce that. Now then you were feeling more ready to tackle the rest of this cursed day.
Coming out of the bathroom you noticed how quiet it was. The silence filled you with dread; anyone with children knew that the only time they were quiet was either when something was wrong or they were up to something, while anyone acquainted with Dazai and Chuuya were very aware that the two together were constantly either bickering or yapping.
Silence like this filled you with dread.
Throwing your dirty laundry carelessly to the side you rushed downstairs, heart in your throat. When you made it down the stairs you stopped, shocked as the sound of snores reached your ears. More carefully you made your way towards the livingroom being cautious to remain light on your feet.
Once there you leaned against the wall, your eyes falling on the heartwarming sight before you. All four of them were on the soft playmat. Chuuya was lying stretched out on his back on his coat, an arm dropped over his eyes and loud snores resonating around the room. On his chest lay your daughter with his hat covering her head from the light. His hand was on her body keeping her close to himself. Dazai was lying curled up into a ball on his side, beside Chuuya. His messy head on his thigh. Your son laying in his arms, held close to himself through a make-ship baby-carry out of his bandages. Although he wasn’t snoring you could tell he was fast asleep by the rise and fall of his shoulders.
Going over to the couch you picked up the warm covers before gently placing it over them. You saw Dazai stir, a sleepy eye opening just long enough to register that you weren’t a threat then he shifted slightly, creating a space between him and Chuuya for you. “ Don’t be a stranger Belladonna” he whispered as he beckoned you to lay down between them.
Once you did, he wrapped one arm around you, the second one still holding your son in place, before he buried his face in your hair. He took a deep breath in and out, his hand finding yours and squeezing it once before interlocking your fingers together. “ I’ve missed you” he muttered, his eyes sliding shut in tiredness “ Lets rest now and when we wake up I wanna give you a proper greeting Bella”
Before you could answer he was fast asleep. Which was probably good because it saved you the embarrassment of explaining why his one sentence brought you to tears.
______________________________________________________________
Author note: Craving part 2?
Check out We need to talk for the sweeter version, and Happy Unhappy home! For more angst.
dazai's hand gently squeezed yours. it felt almost possessive, if you didn't know any better. you could lie, just for a moment, tell yourself he means it... but the pressure is gone as quickly as it came. the squeeze was a way to soothe you momentarily, remind you not to be anxious as he drags you along. maybe, if you didn't know any better, you could think the soothing action was for you more than him — not to pacify you, but because he worries about you. if you didn't know any better... but you do, and he does, and you're just friends.
i dunno why but your blog is my fav.. (coming from a hardcore nsfw liker) like its really simple but super cute TT and vv comforting…
haha glad you like it!!! ❤️❤️
ok ok I have more thoughts on Reincarnated Villain Darling for bsd here I goooo
In your first life, you were not a particularly good person. you might not have been on par with the likes of fyodor or the port mafia, but you were infamous enough to be a household name around Yokohama. maybe you were more of a schemer, maybe a brute force type, but you caused your fair share of mayhem on your day.
until you died.
you had, at one time, believed all of your efforts- all the destruction and pain you caused- would eventually be justified. eventually, the universe or God or whatever would finally acknowledge you- and you could rest easily knowing that at least it'd all been for a just cause. but that didn't happen. you were caught, you were defeated, and you were killed- and nothing came of it at all. but now that you've been sent back in time, you can make things right! I mean you weren't sent back far enough that you don't already have something of a reputation but... you can make this work! people start over all the time, you can too!
unfortunately, suddenly deciding to become the next virgin mary in the middle of your reign of terror turns a few heads.
dazai is as hypocritical as they come. sure, HE left his criminal past behind to be a certified Good Boy, but he doesn't believe others can follow this method. hell, I don't even think he believes HES pulling it off. he doesn't trust your sudden shift one bit, so obviously he has to investigate. you don't let his distrusting glares or not-so-subtle digs phase you, though, you have amends to make. of course, the more you prove his suspicions about you wrong, the more determined he is to reveal your supposed "true nature". you think that turning your good deeds to him will get him off your back... but it's quite the opposite, unfortunately. you've only served to get him attached.
fyodor thinks it's rather interesting, especially if you're someone with an ability. an evil ability user suddenly turning from their wicked ways and repenting? how could he not want to see that for himself! while the concept of an ability user going from someone who bombs buildings to a bona-fide Saint who rescues kittens from trees kinda flies in the face of his entire ideology, he's more intrigued by the idea than annoyed by it. and wherever there's fyodor, there's gogol, who is going to be VERY interested in testing just how far he can push your new personality.
gonna cut myself short here but picture: being rivals with akutagawa and atsushi in your past and now the two of them follow you around like lost dogs. chuuya, the guy who you distinctly remember throwing a black hole directly at your face, won't stop trying to get you to agree to go out with him. any character you like! yosano, kunikida, ranpo, mushi, fitz, etc. everyone just HAS to known what's gotten into you lately!
and it seems like they're liking what they're seeing so far.
also while I'm here TELL ME UR YOSANO THOUGHTS RIGHT NOW????? YANDERE YOSANO FOR ME PLS???? ALSO THE CAT THING. IMAGINE BEING INCARNATED INTO BSD AS A CAT THAT DAZAI WONT STOP PSPSPSPSING AT
- 🩹
100/10 would reincarnate as a cat into bsd to get pspspspsed at by dazai <3 and i will never look at him so he feels crushed! slight manga spoilers about jouno's past but his part is at the end so you can stop before it!
ft nikolai, fyodor, dazai, jouno.
cw; yandere character, stalking, jealousy, obsession, manipulation.
it's nikolai who notices your odd behaviour first.
he's close behind you when you cautiously walk into the bank you stole from just two days ago, glancing all around you as you stumble in with the large bags in your arms. everyone around you freeze at the sight of your infamous disguise (nikolai thinks it's rather cowardly of you to not show your real face in public. you should be proud of your villainous exploits!) and your awkward attempts at reassuring them and shushing them goes terribly, as they all fall to the floor with tears in their eyes. still, you soldier on, wincing at the pure terror you see in the trembling figures and loud sobbing, and go to place the bags on the largest counter. the clerk already has his card out, ready to let you into any room you wish to rob, but you shake your head at him.
"no, i'm only here to return this," the clerk's eyes widen at your words, "i'll have the rest of the money i've taken sent to you later today. there was too much to carry," you laugh, and is that nervousness that nikolai senses in your voice? you, the ever confident criminal, are nervous, and in the face of a terrified pipsqueak? "and i wanted to apologize for all the trouble. there's more money in here," you toss another bag onto the counter, "but i would like this to be used for compensation, for everyone that was here last time, and today."
strange, nikolai thinks, even your manner of speaking seems to have changed. your voice isn't as thundering as it used to be, and your words are polite. the words you use are kinder, somehow, and you sound more sympathetic, not as obviously exaggerated.
even stranger is that you do just as you say, placing the money and immediately leaving the building. the police is called, and even a bomb squad just in case this was all a terrible joke, but the money is there as promised, and nothing else. and later that day, huge trucks line up outside the bank and money is left piled up inside, like you had said.
it's not that nikolai doesn't think that people can change, but there's something completely unnatural about your change in heart. nothing in particular seems to have inspired your sudden turnaround, as far as he's aware, you were even planning your next strike the night before, but you woke up and threw it all away, and instead marched yourself straight to the bank.
naturally, he needs answers. so he continues his little habit of following you around. it's a little unusual to see you without your disguise, living a perfectly normal life. you get your coffee from the same place every morning and take the same train and the same path and go to your ordinary job and it's so awfully boring that nikolai can't understand how you can bear it all. how do you go from the thrill of villainy to...this mundane, dull life?
despite all the monotony you've surrounded yourself with, nikolai can't say he finds you boring. he's always liked you, but not enough to want you dead. you're exciting, with your magnetic personality and outrageous stunts. and maybe, compared to the brutal violence by all the other 'villains' of yokohama, your presence is somewhat of a relief to the public. dangerous, but not lethal. if they keep their heads down and let you do your thing, they can leave the scene traumatized, but alive, and you'll leave a happy little bird. nikolai always found that amusing, if a little frustrating at times. why not just go all the way and kill the witnesses?
he listens closely to the boring conversations you have with your coworkers, about the weather and lunch and god how do you bear this? he watches you stand expressionless as you get berated about something by a superior, and finds himself giggling when you later get back at them by mixing laxatives into their coffee when they aren't looking. he's relieved, a light feeling bursting in his chest when he realizes you haven't completely changed for the better. you still have the stray bits of your previous self, and he's not sure why he's so happy to know that.
as time goes by, as he sees you doing more good—selfless acts that you have nothing to gain from, nikolai can no longer hide the curiosity burning inside of him. he wants to know why so badly, wants to know why you threw away all the fun and excitement and the wonderful selfish way of life to turn to this, and why you look happier.
"nikolai," you say when he finally reveals himself, "what brings you here?"
he notices your hand slipping into your pocket, curling around what he already knows is a weapon, and smiles to himself. good, you still had it in you.
"my good friend! how long has it been?" he croons, his voice almost grating like this, "i've missed seeing you around here."
you back away, eyes searching for an exit. before you can begin running, nikolai already has a hand through his coat to drag you to the ground, a malicious grin waiting.
"not so fast," he hisses, the smile widening, "you have a lot of explaining to do."
your last conversation with fyodor still lingers in his mind.
"i'm not interested." fyodor blinks at you, his previous smile having slipped off, "i understand that your values do not align with ours, but this opportunity—" "that's not the only reason," you explain, "not to say it isn't reason enough, but, well, i've decided to give it up. this life of crime, i mean." he stares at you for a moment longer before soft laughter echoes through the alley, "do you think it's that easy?" you glance around you, trying to plan an escape route just in case the man in front of you decides that you've pissed him off too much and turns you into a mess of blood and guts. he didn't sound angry, but the dostoevsky you know, and the one you remember, was very good at hiding his displeasure behind charismatic smiles and disguised threats. "to throw away everything you've worked...i wonder what changed your mind." you step back, "i've been reflecting on myself, and realized that maybe it's not that fun to wreak havoc when people's lives are endangered. turns out, i have tons of other hobbies when putting aside the...criminal acts." "oh?" fyodor's smile widens, and he steps forward, "found something else worth your time? i wouldn't think that saving kittens is all that interesting when compared to the heists you've pulled off." "they make for great company," you ramble, eyes flitting across the narrow path, "not much of conversationalists, but better than hostages. you should look into getting a cat for yourself. or a dog, or something." "thank you," his voice drips with mockery, "i'll keep that in mind."
people can change, of course, but someone like you, getting up and deciding to throw your past away, as though none of it mattered, as though you could bury it and go on...fyodor doesn't quite agree with it. it's quite peculiar. more so because this time, it concerned you. fyodor doesn't waste his time on petty criminals and their little antics, butt he can't say that he's never been drawn in by you and your extravagant performances that only serves to hide the hideous nature of your soul. he can't say it didn't pique his interest to see you destroy the building where government heads were to gather mere minutes before they made their entrance (and if seeing you grin and wave at the blond detective on scene, clearly waiting for you, made something inside him churn and boil, he didn't think twice about it.)
someone as unabashed and brazen as you was now scurrying away from him, hiding beneath a new identity and cleared records. he wonders, for a moment, if the detective killer was involved in anyway. but how would you know, of his ability? even fyodor had yet to make contact with him. when he later finds out that mushitaro oguri had escaped from the organization, he realizes that there's only one person too elusive to be caught after pulling off such an impossible feat.
people can change, he decides, but your change is unnatural, unwarranted. there was no great tragedy, no failed heist, no harsh punishment that had evoked such sudden development. And there was something else, that visceral sense of fear evident in you when he approached you that day—that wasn't normal. not when the last time you met him, barely a month ago on a rooftop while you were on the run, you stared him down with such impudence, your words laced with audacious condescendence while you prattled on about how lame he looked and a string of other insults before running off again. this wasn't the you he met that day; you had suddenly become aware of the danger he posed, your eyes glued to his gloved hands even while talking to him, searching for an exit in between sentences....so, what caused your change?
how normal was it, really? to wake up one day and decide to completely throw away everything about your life so far and turn into a seemingly ordinary person, to suddenly learn about his (and numerous others, if the case of the evidence suppressor was anything to go by) ability? such unprecedented gain in knowledge that was carefully guarded would be impossible by ordinary means. unless of course, you had somehow earned an ability that gave you such insight. there wasn't any definite conclusion about whether you had an ability or not, considering your resourceful arsenal and agility, but if this was the works of a newly gained ability, it would explain a lot. strange, though, that the moment you received a power that should only help propel your crimes to a greater extent, you shut it all down immediately.
but it's not too difficult for him to ease you back into his trap, with the use of the book and his connections. he has nikolai keep an eye on you while he plans your next encounter. he memorizes the way you walk home and studies how your changed personality may affect how you make your decisions now, and has a thousand questions he wants to wrench out an answer from you for in his mind, after imprisoning you.
but when you actually meet again on a particularly cold night, all he wants to know is why. even though he knows you won't give him the answer to the question that's haunting him all this time.
"[name]," he whispers, a hand on your cheek. you are painfully tense, eyes immediately closing when he touches you, and something inside him curls with displeasure, "you're going to hurt my feelings if you keep this up." he wonders if you can hear the bitterness coating every word of his.
"there shouldn't be such distance between old friends, don't you think?"
dazai finds out through ranpo that you've resigned from the villainous life, after the older man insists they didn't have to stake out at a bank for you because you had "given that life up," but even as he stares at footage of police officers claiming you had disappeared into thin air, he can't quite believe it.
until he meets you for the first time since your disappearance, and you're...different.
different in the way you observe the people around you closely, in the way your voice has hollowed out and you look smaller, like you've been eaten away at. what was bothering you, now? most people wouldn't recognize you underneath your disguise, so there was nothing to be wary about, right? he sees you go to work like a regular person, (you didn't work here before, he remembers, you didn't have to) and when you're on your way back and stop near an alleyway, regarding it with an unreadable expression, he immediately prepares to stop you. you were going to go into the alley and slip on your mask before coming out to wreak—you just walk away instead and he's left alone with his thoughts.
he finds out what's been tiring you out when he decides to spend a few more hours watching you after you get home—just in case he gets an opportunity to catch you red handed, of course—and to his delight, you do get suited up before leaving, but not to do what he expects. you're...not disrupting public safety, and he almost can't believe it, but it's you who's cleaning up a smaller street, you feeding the strays and you knocking out a bicycle thief before returning the stolen bike to its previous spot, and what does this mean?!
is it really that easy, he wonders, to give up a lifetime worth of crime and evil? did you never regret it, or miss your past? were you completely ready to embrace this new life, ready to slip on the mask of an ordinary citizen and make up for your past grievances?
(was it only him that struggled to do the same?)
dazai ponders on what could be motivating you, what was so great that it completely shattered every bad bone in your body and set you on the right path again. did you lose someone, too? but, he realizes, it's not melancholy or grief that follows you—it's desperation, that forces you to destroy every thread that links you back to what you used to be, it's fear that lingers in your constant alertness. what were you running from?
later, dazai's convinced that you're doing this to shake off everyone on your tail, lying low and leading the public into a false sense of security before returning with worse crimes than before, even though all the evidence tells him otherwise. your mask is destroyed, your weapons locked away, you even spend your evenings at pottery classes and cooking lessons instead of stalking through the streets of yokohama, looking for your next target. and you're surprisingly well adjusted, polite and coming across as perfectly normal despite your past, and dazai isn't envious about how easy you make it look, while he had to lie in hiding for years, he's just keeping an eye out for the people who may be harmed by you if—when—you decide to make a comeback. (but if someone asked him why he signed up for the evening classes you go for, he couldn't really give a good answer, except for "surveillance.")
turns out, he's not being too subtle.
"is there something you need?" you glance back momentarily, but your steps don't stop, "or are you just stalking me for the fun of it?"
dazai's mind immediately blanks, not expecting to be called out, and he fumbles for the best defense he has, "i am not stalking. i'm just keeping an eye on you, to make sure you don't...revert back to your old ways."
"i won't," he's a little taken aback by how you don't even question how he knew about your past, "but it's hard to leave all that behind when someone won't let it stay in the past."
"people don't change that easily—"
"are you speaking from personal experience?"
dazai inhales sharply, looking almost livid with how he glared at you, "i know you, [name]. you're planning something."
your responding smile is wry, and mocking, "i didn't know you were such a big fan of me. want an autograph while you're here?" but the expression drops immediately after, and your exasperation is only all the more obvious to him as you sigh, "listen, i can't tell you why i made this decision but i can promise that i'll never turn back."
and before dazai can throw out anymore accusations, you've already started walking away, leaving him alone yet again.
but your words echo in his mind, and though you were only trying to convince him otherwise, he resolutely decides that someone has to hold you to your final promise—and who better than him for the job?
jouno has been watching you for a while now, even before you started acting...strangely.
it wasn't anything personal, of course. it was just what he had to do to maintain order—even if he had to wrangle the files away from the investigation unit (after a poorly disguised threat) to begin surveilling you. he had been watching you, and for longer than anyone else, from the start of your criminal history.
with the newly spreading news about your apparent retirement, jouno was simultaneously proud and frustrated. he had always been sure that you were able to throw aside the meaningless life you had lived thus far and work to become a better person, and had been advocating for you from the very beginning. he was the reason, in fact, that you hadn't been thrown into a high security prison after your dangerous stunt involving some of the country's wealthiest and most powerful people. but now that you had changed, as he wished, he wasn't sure he was happy with all the extra attention you were getting. he knew you were about to get proposition by a variety of individuals and organizations, knew you were likely about to be investigated and prodded at by those who refused to believe in you and those who thought you could be won over easily enough, and he didn't quite like that consequence.
he wasn't particularly worried that you'd change your mind and go back to your previous line of work; jouno was confident in your resolve and your decisions, and he wasn't worried for your safety, since you had always done a good job at separating your private and personal life. however, all the new people who were interested in you now, the new eyes scrutinizing your sudden decision and the new faces you had to greet at work, didn't quite sit right with him. it wasn't fair, he thinks, that you had no clue about how much he believed in you, how much he was prepared to defend you.
and a small, dark part of him was a little upset that he didn't need to get involved in order to convince you—it was hoping that if he got to meet you, he could judge that you hadn't completely changed and that you needed him, and his guidance, to help. he was hoping he could have an opportunity to talk to you up close, to memorize the sound of your voice saying his name.
jouno thought he could change you—the fact that you didn't need him to bothered him more than he'd like to admit.
he had it all planned out; you'd have been his first successful recruit. all the other criminals he as tasked with rarely left his interrogations unharmed, let alone with their sanity intact. and you'd have been his subordinate, looking up at him as your supervisor and adviser, tasked to work with him on his missions, though you'd never be a hunting dog. he wouldn't show you his interrogations, not at first, but he'd take you with him when he was hunting down a villain as a reminder of your fate if you ever turned your back on him. and he would teach you, slowly, about military law and code, about the skills you needed to survive. he'd convince you, and the government, that you needed something to tie you down to them—after all, you couldn't exactly be trusted, yet, and if it had to be a procedure similar to his, he could hold your hand and help you through your recovery, pretending to be on your side, and earning more of your trust. and eventually...eventually, the two of you would grow closer, and you would be ecstatic to be with him.
but clearly, you didn't require his involvement.
perhaps jouno should be more concerned about what convinced you to give up the life you had worked so hard to stay on top of, but at the moment it wasn't of much concern to him. there was no secret threats, no sudden deaths of anyone close to you, just you and your newfound fear. not exactly typical, but far from suspicious. many criminals, especially petty ones with no real motive or goal, decided to start anew for seemingly no reason. it could very well be a hyper realistic nightmare, or a close brush with death—or even just a sentimental conversation with a loved one. it as obvious to him, however, that he wasn't the reason.
still, he didn't let that deter him.
because there was still plenty of opportunities for him to involve himself into your life. he could always admit that the government had been surveilling you, and lie that he was sent to make sure you stayed out of trouble, or he could make up a story about how you were being targeted by a notorious organisation, and he was tasked with protecting you instead. he could introduce himself as his hidden past, admit that he too was just like you, that he could help you bury the past, and work out a friendship of sorts.
it was only a matter of which method would be most effective. after he dealt with all the other pests hovering over you, he'd set his plans in motion.
you’re so very lovely i hope nothing bad happens to you,,,, hopefully,,,,
THANK U ????? anon u are sweet i hope that too LMAOOO
this is so sweet but also. a little ominous !
Ranpo Edogawa masterlist bsd masterlist main masterlist
Doormat reader ft. Dazai, Nikolai, Atsushi, Chuuya
Spoiling Ranpo (The Beyblade Fic)
You don't understand how badly I want to eat your writing
OMGGG nom nom eat it up idc!!!! it's all yours cheetozai 😋😋
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.
literally you can completely ignore this bc idk if ur taking asks rn but..
dazai giving reader a flower and them just taking a bite out of it <3
(can be reversed bc let's be fr he is hungry)
Eating flowers with Dazai | Bungo Stray Dogs | Dazai x reader
i’m always taking asks i’m just not always doing them yk lolll hope this is alright anon :)
Dazai was a bit spooked. He’d never really received flowers from someone before - there was that time Chuuya had purchased a bouquet Dazai carried while they were undercover, and that time Kunikida carried a lone flower in that Dazai ended up stealing, of course. Except, no time had ever been genuine. Dazai had never received flowers expressing gratitude, romantic affection, platonic camaraderie, nothing of the sort.
Seeing you holding out a neatly wrapped yellow rose, thin orange cellophane cradling the finely cut plant, with no ulterior motives had his brain short circuiting.
Gesturing it for him to take, you say, “I thought it looked happy. Joyful, or whatever - ‘cause yellow is such a bright color. I thought you might enjoy it. Made me think of you.”
He did.
He so did. How was he supposed to quell his thrumming heart? Muscle beating out of control for just a moment, he stared down at the thoughtful gift in panic. This occurrence had never, well, occurred, and Dazai had no clue how to proceed. The funny jokester of the Armed Detective Agency wasn’t used to displaying emotions so freely, and he especially hadn’t been able to at his job before. Standing on the sidewalk of a quiet intersection, his short circuited brain rebooted all together.
When his mind came to, Dazai’s head was buried in the cellophane and petals were lodged back in his mouth. The taste was… floral, obviously. Maybe a little citrusy. His head pulled back, standing at full height once again as he chewed and swallowed every last petal on his tongue.
It’s no wonder people don’t gift him flowers.
“You just ate…it?” Dazai whispers, lips slightly parted in confusion.
Staring up at him, you slowly open your mouth, tiny white petals dribbling onto the ground. “Sorry. There’s still half left, if you’re hungry!” With a kind smile, assured that he’s merely upset you didn’t share, you lift the daisy Dazai had gifted you to show off that you had only eaten half of the flower’s petals.
Confounded, Dazai decides to sidestep the real question here and instead ask, “…Is it any good?”
You hum for a second, clearly pondering over the answer before nodding. “It’s a little bitter. Like, spicy? But that’s not the right word…”
Dazai raises his hand, gently pushing the half-petaled flower closer toward you. “It’s all yours; I got it for you.”
The grin you showcase before gobbling up the remaining half makes Dazai sigh. It was all worth it, he supposes.
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.
im sorry i cant help myself i need to drop my entire life story in the tags of my reblogs