Hii hii! I hope your doing okay today or tonight, I was wondering if you could write something for dazai (idm if it’s scenario, hc or mix of it and if you add another character you really want to write about).
The request basically is; a reader who finally told Dazai about their past abuser, how they got away with no consequences (who reader mentioned seeing sometimes in the city) and later said abuser goes to the agency on behalf their company to investigate missing items.
Stuff like this is really comforting for me so thank you if you do it :D I hope I put in enough detail for you to work with.
DAZAI AND CONSEQUENCES
A/N: baby, I’m so sorry, but this is long asf and I got a lil carried away💀 I’m also sorry it took a bit to get out. I work in a nursery, so I work 12 hours shifts, and this got to me slam in the middle of my first one (out of three in a row). If this isn’t what you wanted, you can send me in another ask :) But I hope you like it
WARNING(s): reader was in a physically abusive relationship in the past, mentions of PTSD, canon-typical violence, mentions of panic attacks, pissed off dazai, reader is a girl
—I'm gonna assume this is like a pt. 2 of this writing, but it can stand alone, too :)
—We all know Dazai is megamind over here. He sees EVERYTHING. Nothing goes unnoticed by him (which you probably find a little annoying, tbh, but oh, well). It's especially annoying when he knows things about you that you don't necessarily want him to know
—HOWEVER, if it's something that you physically and emotionally feel like you cannot talk about, like it brings you distress and discomfort, he's very unlikely to push you about it. Let's be honest, this man's probably never even told you the name of his parents. You don't even know if Dazai Osamu IS his real name, so he knows he hasn't got room to talk
—I feel like if Dazai noticed something about your mannerisms, or the way you act that very obviously speaks to past trauma, he'd ask you about it, like in my previous writing. If you're unable or unwilling to talk about it, he drops it. He SO desperately wants to know, but he cares for you too much to put you in any sort of emotional distress by pushing it
—When you do decide to open up to him, he's all ears. He knows how hard it is to speak about the shadows of your past, and he honestly is just so flattered that you trust him (he can't believe it, lmao. Like, three people in his life truly trust him) enough to tell him about it
—You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub in Osamu's apartment, absently watching him comb through his wet hair. The two of you had showered together, and you couldn't help but notice over the months of your relationship how much he had changed.
Osamu was flighty at first, and very distrustful. He wasn't a fan of placing himself in vulnerable positions. Not just to you, but to anyone. Yet, when you'd gently brought up his lack of self care, and how it made you sad to see the person you loved think so little of themselves, a change happened.
You helped, of course. At first, you reminded him to brush his teeth when he forgot, and then you began combing his hair. You'd point out when it was time to change his bandages, and call him to bed at an acceptable time because you knew he'd just stay up until the early hours of the morning (if he slept at all). Together, you two had even begun cooking meals, and he'd started to fill out a little bit.
Now, he made sure to do all of those things, even if you didn't remind him/cook with him, because he felt better, yes, but also because he could see how happy it made you.
He was still suffering from chronic depression, of course. You knew you couldn't fix that, and were thinking about gently bringing up a therapist to him, but he had gotten so much better. Even his coworkers noticed it.
Osamu dragged a comb through his brown waves, eyes narrowed as he focused intently on it. It meant so much to you. How could he not focus on it?
You knew it, too. He would've never made these changes for himself, but he had begun to trust that you had his best interest at heart. A few weeks ago, he'd even opened up about some of his own traumas surrounding Mori and the Port Mafia, about his best friend, Oda Sakunosuke.
Osamu trusted you.
That was why it felt so wrong to keep your own past from him, because he was finally starting to open up. You feared if you didn't return the favor, he'd wilt again. More so, you'd recently been catching yourself let parts of the story slip. Subconsciously, you wanted so badly to tell him.
"What are you thinking so hard about?" He asked lightly, brown eyes sparkling with so much affection that it had your breath catching. Osamu was watching you from the mirror.
You blinked, realizing you'd been out of it for a moment, lost in thought. In your lap, you fiddled with your fingers. Part of you wanted to shut down as your heart plummeted at the thought of reliving the worst of it...
But the way he looked at you, like you hung the sun and the stars, like he felt such fondness for you that 'I love you' simply didn't cut it...
It was time to tell him.
"Can... Can we talk?" you asked, surprised by the softness of your voice. It was almost ashamed, but you knew you shouldn't feel shame for what had happened to you.
Only, you were so scared he'd feel ashamed of you.
Osamu was a great aim, and he was smart as a whip, and he was oddly strong for his thin figure. He'd never let himself stay in the sort of situation you did. He'd fight back.
You felt so small.
He turned to look at you, leaning back on the bathroom counter. His eyes were gentle and knowing, and you couldn't tell if you were upset that he already knew what this was about, or relieved. "Of course," he said with a little smile, squatting down in front of you and taking your hands in his. "What about?"
You gulped, knowing there was no turning back now. If you told him this, you'd be trusting him with probably the worst part of your life. Even imagining it, the past with him, made you sick to your stomach.
You knew you'd backtrack if you didn't just rip it off like a bandaid.
"I overreact to things sometimes," you whispered, and he squeezed your hands. "I'm sure you've noticed it."
"I wouldn't use the word 'overreact.'"
You chewed on your lips nervously, staring into his eyes. Thankfully, all you saw there was understanding, but it was still so hard. "My ex beat me. For years... Anytime I did... anything, pretty much. It was bad." Your voice cracked as you continued, tears welling in your eyes. "I couldn't see my family... I ended up in the ER a few times. He broke me, Osamu. He had me convinced I'd never trust another man."
You waited with baited breath for his reaction, trying to hold in the tears. Your eyes stung and your breathing was speeding up into gasps, because you hadn't even told your family or closest friends the full extent of it.
Osamu looked oddly calm, but at the sight of your fallen tears, he got up to sit beside you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he pulled you in close, flush against him, and kissed your temple. "Breathe, baby. It's all right now," he whispered, squeezing you close.
You couldn't stop it now, though. What had been building up since you left your ex was being released right here, right now. There was no turning back. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks and clouded your eyesight. Subconsciously, you grabbed his shirt in a tight grip and squeezed until your hand ached.
"He beat the shit out of me, and nothing ever happened," you continued, the anguish in your voice now laced by anger. "He broke my collarbone... my jaw—my ribs and my wrist. He made me feel like an ant, like I was so small, and I still feel that way now, and even after I left him... I'm still suffering, but he gets to go about his life like it was nothing. I couldn't even go to the police—he said he'd kill me," you got out through gasps, squeezing your eyes closed as your vision had started to darken at the edges, anyways.
Osamu's eyes flashed with something you didn't recognize, but all he knew to do was pull you in tighter. He placed a hand on your head and pulled you into his chest, and you certainly weren't trying to resist.
"It's not fair," you added, knowing how childish you sounded. Nothing was ever fair. Here you were, saying all this to a man who had probably done much worse than just break people's bones, complaining about fairness.
You weren't a child. You knew life wasn't fair, but that didn't mean it didn't fucking suck that it wasn't.
"Sometimes, I still see him, you know... In town, I—" You had to stop, otherwise you'd make it worse for yourself.
He held you close, rubbing your back and gently scratching your scalp as he whispered for you to breathe. Osamu knew you were about to land neck deep into a panic attack.
Eventually, he did get you calmed down. He got you to bed, made you a mug of hot chocolate, and read to you for about thirty minutes before you were able to catch your breath, his smooth voice calming you better than any benzo could.
In the end, you two lied down together, your back pressed to his front. The bandaged arm that was wrapped around your waist felt like a safety blanket. You were sure you'd be embarrassed about your outburst tomorrow, but for right now, you simply soaked up the feeling of him wrapped around you so snugly.
"You're not small," he whispered to you, and that was the last thing you remembered before passing out.
—Dazai doesn't seem different to you afterwards, in that he doesn't act differently towards you. You were worried at first that he'd see you differently, that he'd see you as being as weak as you saw yourself, but it was the furthest thing from. He respects the hell out of people who can go through such terrible things, and yet come out so kind, so good
—While he doesn't seem different, inwardly you can bet he's raging. Dazai is PISSED OFF, more than he's been in years. He's made great progress, but let's not forget that Dazai can be a cruel mf. He's got a darkness in him that he doesn't want you to see, but it is definitely there
—He doesn't press you for anymore details, but he can't help himself. He digs. He uses his brilliance to find out who the guy is, who his name is, and any time he feels even a slight bit of guilt at digging into your past life without your knowledge, he reminds himself of the injuries you listed.
—You thought he'd forget the things you admitted during your confession? PLEASE. He needs to know everything about this fucking piece of work. If he has a photo, he might even text it to Chuuya, along with a message "wanted alive," and you best bet Chuuya takes it seriously (even if he hates Dazai, lmao) because just by LOOKING at the photo of this guy, everyone can tell he's an asshole. And you still see this mf sometimes? Man is RAGING
—Dazai stands on business, because seeing you so torn up about it physically hurts him. It makes his heart ache every time he remembers you in that state. He can't fucking stand it, and he has to do something about it
—Your words about it being unfair haunt him in his nightmares. You're right to a degree: the world isn't fair. However, Dazai knows that if it takes him a million years, he's gonna make this shit fair
—Then, what do you know, one day he's at the office and Atsushi comes strolling in with a Manila folder and the piece of shit, himself. There he is, practically served to Dazai on a silver platter
—"This is Tanaka Jiro," Atsushi chirped, missing the way Dazai's eyes widened when he saw the new client. "He's here on behalf of the engineering company that got broken into last night."
Dazai sat up in his chair, staring right at the man who had the gall to make you feel small and weak. His eyes darkened, and then he slowly smiled. It wasn't happy or gentle, or even playful and teasing.
He smiled like Mori smiled.
In that moment, if his coat was black instead of tan, he'd look the picture of his younger, crueler self. He supposed that part of him never went away, always there just at the edge of his subconscious.
He promised Odasaku that he'd push it away, that he'd do good. However, he felt that even Odasaku, his kind friend, would understand the necessity of it now.
Immediately, he jumped out of his chair and made his way over. His hand landed on Atsushi's hair, giving it a playful ruffle. As he looked at him, his eyes softened. "Maa, Atsushi-kun. You work too hard, you know. I'll take this case for you."
Atsushi stared at him with obvious shock, eyes wide and jaw on the floor, because Dazai never, ever volunteered to work. If anything, he complained about it like a child.
"D-Dazai-san?" he breathed, in disbelief. It looked like he thought someone had killed the real Dazai, and was now acting in his place.
"Ah, ah," Dazai chirped, shoving Atsushi away. "Go do normal teenager things. Flirt, make friends," his voice trailed off as his gaze slid to Tanaka, your ex, and the smirk lifted his lips once more, eyes flashing dangerously, "all of that."
"O-Okay," Atsushi mumbled, still in shock. He recovered quickly, smiling brightly at Tanaka. "Dazai-san is a very good detective, Tanaka-san. You're in good hands!" he promised.
Tanaka smiled back, and seeing the bastard have the audacity to smile had Dazai seething internally.
Maybe, he'd take all his teeth, so that he could never smile again.
"Thank you for your help, Nakajima-kun," Tanaka said, nodding.
As Atsushi walked off, Dazai tilted his head to the side, his plan already formed. "Follow me to answer some questions, and then I'll begin investigating right away."
—For Dazai's plan to pay off, he needs to figure out who broke into the company. It wasn't a planned event, and he quickly figured out the guy who did it probably had no connection to the company (probably just a low down thief looking for some quick cash), which made it more difficult. It was the sort of not-really-a-big-deal crime that the agency would usually put on the back burner (the only reason it even came to them was because the thief was figured to be gifted), but Dazai worked tirelessly at it
—He interviewed people, looked over documents from dusk to dawn, and just generally put in a hell of a lot more effort for this than he usually would for some petty theft
—You probably even notice how hard he's working. There are bags under his eyes and he's back to not taking very good care of himself, but when you ask about it (obviously worried), he just smiles gently, kisses you, and assures you that he'll have this case figured out in no time. He doesn't want you anywhere near this
—When he does find the criminal, their interaction goes something like this:
"I know you did it. Give me the shit you stole, and I'll let you off."
"Bet."
—He has this part meticulously planned out. While your ex is in work one day, Dazai plants the stolen items in his car, and then calls the company security
—He watches with glee as he's dragged from the building, kicking and screaming like an enraged toddler, and fired on the spot. Your ex's livelihood? Gone. Phase one? Completed
—Dazai sat at his desk with a satisfied smile, chin resting in the palm of his hand as he counted down in his head. Everyone else is entrenched in their own workloads, barely even noticing the malicious sparkle in Dazai's eyes.
Soon enough, the door bursted open, and your ex came running in. His eyes were rimmed red, like he'd been crying, and he was flushed all over from rage. "What the fuck did you do?!" he demanded, pointing at Dazai.
"What do you mean?" he asked innocently, standing and walking over with the same smile.
Everyone else stopped what they were doing, watching the scene with widened, or curious eyes. This sort of thing didn't happen much at the ADA.
"You know what the fuck I mean, you piece of shit!" Tanaka screamed in his face, and it only made Dazai's smile widen. When he saw this, he hissed, "I think we should take this outside."
"Hold on," demanded Atsushi, immediately standing from his desk, along with Kyouka and Kenji.
Dazai didn't even look at them, staring into Tanaka's eyes, as he held up his hand to stop them in their tracks. The smile melted off his face, replaced by a cold glare and lips pressed into a line. "I'm fine," he assured them, light tone not at all matching his expression.
"But—Dazai-san," Atsushi mumbled, eyes flickering between Dazai and Tanaka.
"You guys are so dramatic," Ranpo said with a roll of his eyes, absently watching the scene from his desk, which his feet were propped up on. "Dazai-kun said it's fine."
Dazai tilted his head mockingly at Tanaka. "Are we going outside?"
That, they did. Tanaka stomped down the stairs and through the cafe, out onto the crowded streets of Yokohama.
Dazai followed, of course, even as Tanaka led him towards a darkened alleyway, obstructed from the view of the general public. Inwardly, he thought that this guy was making it way too easy. He was an idiot.
Tanaka stared at the dead end wall for a minute, and then let out a cry of rage, turned on his heel, and began running at Dazai with his arm pulled back and his hand clenched into a fist.
Nonplussed, Dazai side stepped it, loving every minute of the surprise on Tanaka's face. "What? Did you think fighting someone your own size would be as easy as beating on a girl?"
That had Tanaka freezing immediately. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he growled out, and Dazai almost laughed at his attempt to be menacing and scary.
Right on time, a black SUV pulled up. He might not be in the mafia anymore, but Dazai had plenty of contacts from it. When masked men jumped out of the vehicle, surrounding Tanaka, Dazai smirked at the look of pure terror on his face.
"Don't play dumb. You aren't handsome enough to pull it off," he said lightly, and then laughed as Tanaka tried to call for help.
He was knocked out before he could.
When he awoke, eyes all bleary and with a searing headache, he was in a big, dark warehouse. It was old and beaten, with leaking pipes and creaky doors. He was sitting in a chair, hands cuffed together behind him.
Tanaka screamed.
Dazai walked in front of him casually, hands tucked into his pockets. "Scream all you like. No one will hear you," he said.
"Why are you doing this?! Who even are you, man?!" Tanaka cried, the tears falling down his cheeks. He looked so pathetic.
Dazai loved every second of it.
He hummed, walking forward until he was right in front of the bastard, footsteps echoing around the wide open space. Grabbing a fist full of Tanaka's hair, Dazai yanked his head back, so he'd be looking up at him, so he could see the icy glare, the hate.
"You hurt someone I'm very fond," Dazai said softly, tilting his head. "You hurt someone I love... And ever since she told me, I've been thinking of ways to make it fair for her. It's all I've thought about.
"She's not like you and me, you know. She's kind. She's sweet. She's good. You," Dazai scoffed, "you're pathetic. A man who has to beat defenseless women to feel good about himself is no man." When he leaned in close, so his lips were inching his ear, Tanaka whimpered. "And me? I'm the worst of the worst."
Now, all Tanaka could do was cry and plead, but Dazai wasn't having any of it. He let go of Tanaka's hair, letting his head fall limply, enjoying the sounds of his uttered prayer. "No god can save you from me," he told him in a pleasant voice, taking a few steps back.
Dazai crossed his arms and hummed thoughtfully, making a show of it. "I thought I could just kill you, but that's not really fair, is it? She has to live with what you did to her, and I think the fairest thing would be if you have to live with what I do to you."
"You're fucking psychotic," Tanaka whispered.
"Ah," Dazai agreed easily. "I've always been more of a proponent of revenge, rather than justice. See, she probably just wishes you'd have gone to jail." His casual tone melted into something deeper and smoother, deadlier. "Whereas I'm more of an eye-for-an-eye kind of guy, so..." He pursed his lips in faux thought, looking up at the ceiling. "What was it she said?"
Tanaka stared at him in horror, especially when Dazai stared him straight in the eye and smiled.
"Right. Broken jaw, collarbone, ribs, and wrist!" He said, snapping as if he'd just remembered it, as if your broken confession hadn't been causing him physical pain this whole time. "I have plenty of history with breaking jaws, so I guess we'll start there. What do you say?" he asked brightly.
Tanaka screamed again, the sound becoming a cry of raw terror as Dazai began walking towards him.
An hour later, Tanaka still sat in his chair, still handcuffed, but he was bloody and bruised. Every injury he inflicted on you, Dazai returned tenfold. He was delirious with pain, and in and out of consciousness.
Dazai grunted when he looked down at his hands, seeing the blood that absolutely coated his knuckles and bandages. He'd have to clean that up before coming home to you.
"You up?" he asked, walking closer.
When Tanaka immediately flinched back, Dazai hummed with satisfaction.
"I won't kill you," he said, as if he was doing Tanaka some great favor. "You're going to go about your pathetic, little life with no job, and every time you look at yourself, you'll remember this pain. You'll finally feel at least a fraction of what she did."
Tanaka just whimpered. It was hard to speak with a shattered jaw.
Dazai smiled at the sound, crouching down in front of him to force Tanaka to look him in the face, in the eyes. "The men who kidnapped you are going to drop you off at a hospital. They'll ask what happened, and you'll be tempted to tell them. So," his tone lowered into a hiss, breaking the somewhat casual facade now that Tanaka had physically felt his anger. There was no point hiding it now. "I'll tell you the same thing you told her at her lowest point, that defenseless girl who didn't stand a chance against a piece of shit like you: tell the cops, and I'll kill you."
Dazai stood, jaw clenched. "And I'll be watching you from now. Step a toe out of line, hurt anyone else, and I'll bring you right back here. Only, that time, I'll probably just go ahead and do the whole world a favor, and shoot you in the head.
"I bet no one would miss you at all, because that's how small you are."
With that, he walked away.
—I know that was pretty brutal, but to be honest, y'all, Dazai was a whole ass executive in the PM (the 'demon prodigy'). He tries to hold it back in the ADA (per his promise to Oda and his care for the others), but let's not kid ourselves. The guy does have the capacity to do some really evil shit, and I think if he'd do it for anyone, it'd be you
—It just pisses him off so much to feel helpless, especially when it comes to you. He couldn't save you, then, but he can damn well set the record straight. In his head, he had to do something. At the very least, he had to stop this guy from doing it again
—You were eating dinner with him that night, and hadn't really noticed anything out of the ordinary. Both of you were just sitting at the counter, digging into some instant ramen, and you probably wouldn't have noticed if you didn't pay such close attention to him.
There was a speck of blood on the collar of his coat.
"Hey, what happened?" you asked, concern pinching together your brows. Worried eyes scanned him over, looking for any sign of injury. You found none, though.
"It's not mine," Osamu answered, and then took a bite of his food, looking pointedly away from you.
You pursed your lips, tapping his wrist. "We don't lie to each other, O-sa-mu."
He couldn't help but smile a little at your tone. His eyes finally met your's, and he tapped your wrist back. "It's not a lie. It's-not-mine."
"It's a lie by omission if you don't tell me what happened."
You were terribly confused when his eyes softened, and then he gently pressed his hand to the back of your head, bringing you closer until your foreheads were touching. "What's wrong?" you mumbled.
"I can't tell you everything," he admitted slowly, eyes shut. He looked so peaceful, like he was where he was meant to me. Honestly, when Osamu was all soft like this, it took your breath away.
"Then tell me part of it," you breathed, reaching up to cup your hand around his neck. "Did something happen?"
He stayed quiet for a long time, though you didn't know how long. It was like he was contemplating something serious, and that both confused and worried you.
When he finally did speak, it felt like time froze. Everything froze.
"I made it fair. He won't ever hurt anyone else again. I made sure of it."
The words were a whispered promise, and you automatically knew what he was talking about, of course. He was mysterious, and he had been distrustful at first, and you knew he had once been in the mafia, but he was also the person you trusted the most in the world.
Osamu always went above and beyond for you, and you didn't feel as safe anywhere as you did with him.
You believed him wholeheartedly, and found that this admission was enough. You didn't need to know the details, and probably wouldn't want to.
The relief you felt was enough.
"Thank you, Osamu."
—Look, he's so bby girl with you, but he don't play when it comes to your abusive ex💀
—Just... just honestly don't fuck with the people this guy loves, okay? He's gd diabolical, and he can be so cruel to those that hurt who he cares about, so... Just watch it if you're tryna show out to his girl, okay, lmao
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