#like what dazai did was just insulting plain and fucking simple
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going insane thinking about skk breakup dazai leaving the port mafia again because. he really just up and left without saying anything. not a word, not a goodbye, not a “chuuya would you like to come with me.” and he never said anything after. didn’t try to get in contact at all. no texts, no calls, no letters, no cryptic messages decipherable only to the both of them.
imagine being partners with someone. imagine forging a bond so strong that it’s been likened to a diamond sharpening another diamond. imagine spending three years with someone, forging a relationship, learning about each other and what makes them click and how to work together and how exist together.
imagine they throw it all in your face. they leave and not only do they leave, but they do so in a manner which shows that they never even considered you. they left as if your lives aren’t connected, they left as if it was the easiest thing in the world.
imagine everyone else finding out before you.
what was the past three years for then. what was them telling you that you gave them a reason to live for then. has it expired? has it run out? was it not enough? did they find something better?
and the lack of respect of it all. you never would have stopped them from leaving if they just explained why they had to. you would have been angry, you would have been pissed off because it’s the same story over and over again, you hurt everything you touch, you hurt everything you get close to, you’re never enough of a reason for someone to stay; but you would have understood. eventually. but they didn’t do that.
they wrote you so neatly out of their life that you wonder if you were ever a part of it in the first place.
#my writing#bungou stray dogs#soukoku#chuuya centric#he makes me sad#they make me sad#*smacks chuuya* the amount of abandonment you can fit into this boy#like what dazai did was just insulting plain and fucking simple#i’ve always thought it was more than him just leaving yknow. dazai has always been a flight risk and i think on some level chuuya was aware#but to not Say Anything#man. fucking blew up his car and thought that would be enough LMAO#one day i’ll tackle dazai’s perspective on this because i do think it’s incredibly nuanced#or at least it’s nuanced in my head#giving them the complexity they deserve#if asagiri won’t write it well i will#bsd#chuuya nakahara#dazai osamu
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Love me! [Yandere!Dazai Osamu x Reader]
"Love me, (Y/n)!~" Dazai chimed, sat opposite the (h/c)ette with his face resting on his pale, almost ghostly, knuckles.
"Dazai, what are you doing?" she asked plainly,
"Ne? What do you mean?" he asked, cocking his head to the side innocently with a smile,
"You're usually off trying to drown yourself by now, why bother me out of everyone here?" the lady sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as though in attempt to stop her obvious irritation to the bandaged male. The (h/c)ette rolled her eyes,
"And what's the deal with 'love me', it's not the best of opening sentences," she continued with a scowl.
"Because I want you to love me, plain and simple," he smiled, "Or have you still not gotten over Chuuya?"
"That's none of your business, Dazai," she retorted coldly, a furious glaze over gorgeous, (e/c) eyes.
"I was right," he chimed, before realing she probably was less likely to love him now.
Fuck.
He was going to have to help her get over Chuuya in his more.. Resourceful.. Method.
.
.
.
.
.
"Mackerel? The fuck are you doing here?!" Chuuya snapped, seeing Dazai enter his room,
"We have some.. Unfinished business," the brunette said, a somewhat sinister smirk forming on his face. The small red head whipped around, ready to engage in a fight with his comrade.
Until he felt the blade glide across his neck.
"W-what the fuck?" he whispered to himself, before looking up to see the taller male with a small, sharp blade, "YOU BASTARD!" he roared, feebly attempting to cover the wound. The brunette gripped at his shoulder, restraining his ability.
"You think she'll love me now?" Dazai asked, reverting from his enraged mood to his normal, irritatingly cheery one.
"Wh-who the fuck would ever love you?" Chuuya growled, kicking at him in attempt to free himself, coughs and splutters of crimson blood staining his shirt, seeming to avoid Dazai and leave him immaculate.
"That's what I found myself thinking about you," he chimed, before bringing the knife back to his throat, "Now answer me; now that you're out of the way, do you think (Y/n) will love me?"
"(Y/n)? How am I the obstacle?!" he scowled, feeling the blood pour from his wound.
"She still loves you, but if there's no you to love, she can come running to me!" he sighed dreamily,
"You're crazier than I thought.." Chuuya snapped, brows furrowed in fury.
"That's the wrong answer," Dazai smirked, running the blade painfully slowly across the shorter male's neck, clamping a hand over his mouth so he couldn't scream.
.
.
Seconds passed.
.
.
Seconds that dragged on far too long.
.
.
His body fell limp, eliciting a victorious smirk from his brunette rival.
.
.
Blood continued to drip from the corpse.
.
.
Tears filled large, blue eyes.
.
.
Tears filled with regrets he noticed in the final moments of his life.
.
.
The all too apathetic tone that Chuuya had resented sounded once more, seeing him off mockingly.
.
.
"Where's that wine you love so much? You did preserve it for a special occasion."
.
.
.
//Timeskip//
.
.
.
"Ah! I can't wait to see her again!" Dazai grinned to himself, swinging his legs absent mindedly on the chair.
"Who, Dazai-San?" Atsushi asked, naivety obvious in his tone,
"My beloved (Y/n)-Sama," he smiled, taking a sip from his seventh coffee that morning.
"Do you have a history with her?" the younger male pried, curious as to who someone Dazai referred to as a goddess would have to do.
"Remember how I was a mafia executive?" he began, resting his hands on pale, almost ghostly, knuckles.
"You were a mafia executive?!" the tiger boy exclaimed, looking at his mentor with a dhocked expression.
"Yeah, of course I w-"
Ding!
"Dazai? Really? I told you to fuck off last time, besides, you're with these shitty detectives now," the (h/c)ette snapped, stepping through the door.
"(Y/n)-San! It's been a while," Dazai smiled, as if she hadn't just insulted him and his comrades,
"Can you just fuck off? And who's this piece of shit you're with?" she interrogated, statements conflicting.
Anger and curiosity swirled in her head, leaving her unsure of what to do and how to react.
"No, (Y/n), not until you tell me what I want to hear, and this is Atsushi, you may know him as the ma-"
"Dazai, who is this?" Kunikada snapped, pointing an accusihg finger at the lady in the doorway.
"This is (Y/n), my girlfriend!" Dazai smiled, jumping to her side and slinging an arm around her, "She's irritable, but I still love her.~"
She elicited no protest, knowing that no matter how much she hated Dazai for killing Chuuya, it was smarter to play along than be caught by the detective agency at this moment.
His hold on her felt like scolding iron, attempting to brand her as his own but merely causing her distress and anger.
They both hated it.
Dazai wanted her to know that he was the one she should be with.
Not Chuuya.
Not Mori.
Not Gin.
She was his, and only his.
He could encapsulate that forever in a Romeo and Juliet-esc double suicide.
(Y/n) wished he wouldn't attempt to make her his own.
She was allowed love.
She was allowed assistance.
She was allowed friendship.
Three things she would refuse from someone like him; suicide obsessed and having lost the plot.
"(Y/n), how's about we go on a date?" Dazai grinned, holding her hand tightly.
"..Sure.." she answered, attempting to free her hand from his,
"Great, let's go!"
.
.
Sat in silence, the lady felt tears well in her eyes.
"Why did you do it? Why did you kill him?" she demanded, ripping her hand from his vice-like grip and slamming him against a wall, fingers gripped tightly at his throat.
"Isn't it obvious? I did for you, so you would love me," the insane brunette smiled, holding her wrist and tracing patterns into it, "I invited you to sit with us and have a drink; it was his fabourite, you should've stayed with me and honoured him."
"You're one crazy son of a bitch," she seethed, gripping tighter.
"Asphyxiation? From someone as gorgeous as you? That's almost as good as the double suicide," Dazai choked, still smiling widely at the contact with her.
She scowled, punching him repeatedly.
He was left bruised and bleeding, she assumed for the dead.
"You're pathetic, gross, vile, now get the fuck out of my way," she snapped, landing a final kick where the sun doesn't shine.
Walking away from the male, she was struck with the memory of finding out.
Stepping into the somewhat lavish room without a knock, the (h/c)ette stared in horror. Her eyes were cast upon Chuuya's fresh corpse, blood splattered all over his attire and carpet. She couldn't scream. Couldn't shout. Couldn't cry for help. Couldn't move. She was helpless, paralysed in fear. The tone she least expected–or wanted–to hear at this moment spoke up,
"Oh! (Y/n)-Sama!" Dazai smiled, feigning a shocked expression, "Would you like to join us? It's his favourite wine, afterall."
"The fuck did you do to Chuuya?!" she snarled. An almost hurt expression formed on Dazai's features,
"Do you not like it?" he said, a whiny undertone to his voice.
His incessant whining tuned out, the lady observing the blood splattered walls with a twisted grimace. The stacks of hats he had collected was knocked over, covering picture frames of when they were together.
Had he still loved her, as well?
Dazai's irritating voice tuned back in,
"He scribbled your face out, you know," he said, looking down, "I don't think he ever loved you.."
She zoned back out, tears threatening to fall. Wine bottles lay scattered and broken on the floor, no less than shards of coloured glass he had treasured and hoarded. The wallpaper was covering in his own blood, messages from Dazai causing her to gag. The man had killed the one she loved, then mocked him in his own space, scrawling messages and insults onto the once pristine walls. Her eyes fixated on the table his corpse was slumped over, she looked on with a dark expression. Her legs began to move, stepping over to the black marble and kicking away the vase of roses laid out. She began to lash out at Dazai, screaming questions that availed with no answers. Tears flowed freely down her face, slamming the brunette's head off of the wall. He did nothing in retaliation.
"Theres the death you wanted so bad, suicidal freak," she snarled, pointing her gun to shoot him in the back of the head.
"Make me suffer," the male rasped, "Make me suffer the pain of living, (Y/n).. Living without y-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, BASTARD," she roared, shooting his arm repeatedly.
"There, now if I die it's you revenge, and if I live I'm without the most inportant thing to me," he whispered, vision blurring.
"I hope that whatever the fuck that is rots in hell."
Tears still threatened to fall, the memory alone enough to tip her over the edge.
.
.
//Timeskip//
.
.
Returning to the security of her room after a long day of assassinations, she sighed, dropping onto her bed. The events that occured earlier that week still remained fresh in her mind, like an ooen wound that refused to close because everytime she walked it was pulled further open. Everything reminded her of Chuuya, his death and her hatred for Dazai. She became more like the short read head, angered by mostly anything and with a passionate hatred for the brunette.
Crawling into nightwear and getting comfortable in her bed, she shivered as she felt arms wrap around her, warm breath against her neck and heard five simple words.
"Do you love me yet?"
#dazai#dazai osamu#osamu#oneshot#x reader#character x reader#yandere x reader#yandere#bsd#bungou stray dogs#nakahara chuuya#bsd chuuya#bsd dazai#dazai x reader
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