NOTE + WARNINGS !! lowkey a mix of angst and fluff? Dazai’s suicide attempt but his ahh did not die, SFW (prob my first FF with actual plot, I’m kinda excited for thisss)
CONTEXT who would have thought the infamous womaniser, Dazai Osamu, would fall in love with you? A random kind stranger. So in love with you, he developed a Hanahaki disease. Poor him! Who knows? If this was a punishment or a blessing offered to him? The answer depends on you.
PART 1
One woman, one week. Dazai never took relationships seriously. Lovebomb and spoil a woman for a week, just to leave her utterly heartbroken for eternity.
The Armed Detective Agency was once peaceful again after the defeat of rivalry organisations. No more huge threats. No big case to discuss about, each day filled up with a usual banter about nonsense.
This meant Dazai was probably very free, even if piles of paperwork lied on his desk because finishing paperwork was never his priority.
His mind was full of nothing but new suicide methods to try. He spotted a quite strong-looking tree and his first thought was:
"What if I just tie a rope around my neck and swing using this tree?"
Glancing around and finding no one, this was his opportunity. A rope was always ready up his ass so no worries about the equipments.
He quickly climbed up and secured the rope around the most-durable-looking branch, then pulled the rope from below to test it.
It was perfect. No sound of creaking.
No one to interrupt him as well.
But something was missing.
Oh yeah, a beautiful woman.
Dazai groaned at the thought. Four years of finding his fellow suicidal partner and he got a list of exes and rejections instead. The search took too long, and he wondered if he would die of old age if he ever had to keep waiting.
Eyes closed, he allowed the rope to hug his neck firmly. But did he really want to die alone? Or just keep waiting for that non-existent partner?
He checked his surroundings once again, as if he was expecting Atsushi or Kunikida to appear. But this time, there was absolutely no one but his suffocating thoughts. No Kunikida’s yells. No Atsushi’s concerned face. The place was somewhere he doesn’t usually go to so it would definitely take a while for them to find him…
Dazai began questioning everything in existence again, which is something he despised a lot, to be stuck in your own dark mind with no distraction to save you. What should he keep living for? Should he just actually end things here?
Second by second, his body becoming more and more desperate for air.
Oh god, it’s taking so long and painful! Definitely not a beautiful way to go out.
He found himself subconsciously struggling, attempting to free himself from that rope. Had Death took this suicide seriously? It was actually working when he didn’t want it to.
Dazai’s mind began torturing him with memories.
The Armed Detective Agency.
Chuuya.
Odasaku.
Atsushi…
Atsushi, the boy who needed Dazai like how Dazai needed Oda.
Why was he leaving him?
Calm down, Death. Let him pass out peacefully or just kill him already.
Only if a beautiful angel could join him in death save him.
Then out of a sudden, his body hit the solid ground.
All he could hear was his loud panting, followed by the sound of a figure landing and a womanly voice.
"Are you,… alright?"
He slowly moved his head to face her, feeling dizzy.
His vision, slowly clears, till the beauty was reveal.
Oh lord. You’re gorgeous.
The more Dazai looked at you, the more you look like you were naturally glowing. With cherry blossoms blooming behind you, as the wind gently caresses the locks of your hair, the ground lifts you with pride, and the sun kisses you.
What is this strange feeling in the chest?
It felt as if flowers had bloomed in his chest.
Literally.
He tried to form a word but his mouth only hang open. The words stuck in his throat. You leaned in randomly and checked on his neck, which caught Dazai off guard.
"Poor you! What were you thinking!" you exclaimed as you checked on his condition.
Dazai once tried to explain but couldn’t make any sound. Only stuttering. Did he lost his ability to speak?
Dazai realised how embarrassing he must have looked right now, especially in front of a beautiful lady! His hair and clothes were completely disheveled and he was unable to speak. All his charms were gone just when he met an ethereal woman.
"Hold up! Let me call-"
Dazai immediately grabbed your wrist, gesturing a "no". And attempted using his own sign language to show that he was completely fine and that he had to go.
Dazai tried to act cool as he stood up just to fall back. Why was his body acting so weak now?
You tried offering help just to get aggressively rejected by him.
He stood up straight then immediately walked to the opposite direction from you, trembling yet stubborn.
With all his remaining strength, he yelled "don’t you dare follow me!"
Why was this man so mad at you?
How could you help him when he's pushing you away?
You didn’t have time to nurse him at all.
You were already late for your 26th work interview (how silly of you!) so you gotta run real quick.
When Dazai regretted his decision and decides to talk to you again, you were already leaving.
"Wait-" he coughed aggressively, covering his mouth with his hand.
Just to see petals of flowers covered in crimson red…
CONTEXT Dazai hangs out with reader at a spot by the river. What was supposed to be an ordinary hangout ended up becoming a night of creating memories together with the help of your camera <3
NOTE I’m not part of jirai culture, so I’m sorry if I made any mistakes!! I tried my best to avoid being disrespectful and did careful research before writing this! Feel free to correct me as well!!
Taking a sip from his soft drink, Dazai’s gaze lingered on the night view of Yokohama before him as he leaned against the barrier separating the walkway from the river. This was your hangout spot, a place where you both could be teens free from worries and enjoy the nightlife.
Street lamps lit up every dark corner. A vending machine - where he had bought his drink from - stood between two of them. The place made Dazai realize how much he had missed his own city. Dazai rarely wandered through Yokohama, and when he did, it was usually routes ordinary people wouldn’t take.
You were supposed to arrive by now, but Dazai knew you would be late. To entertain himself, he started trying to study the towering buildings on the other side of the river. He was so focused until he felt a cold finger touch his neck.
Front bangs and a color palette of pink, black and white, he immediately recognized you. His Jirai partner.
“I knew you would come!” you said with a smile as you grabbed his hand.
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I?” he replied, intertwining his fingers with yours in return.
The two of you sat on a nearby bench, facing to the river.
“Nice view, don’t you think?” Dazai spoke as he crossed his legs and put the drink down, looking at the buildings again.
“I’m surprised there aren’t many people here with how pretty this place is.”
“Maybe they are at the bridge?” said Dazai, pointing at the famous Yokohama Bay Bridge.
“Oh yeah! I forgot that exist!” You laughed, embarrassed for not noticing, “this place’s better, right??”
“Hmm,” he hummed, “I think I like it here better though. Pretty quiet. You got good taste,” he complimented you since you picked the place.
“Guess what I brought!” You pulled out a mini bag.
He was confused at the random switch in the topic, but decided to go along, “why would I guess when you’re gonna tell me anyways?”
“Just say whatever you think first!”
“Uh…” Dazai knew it was going to be small, but the bag made it hard for him to figure out its shape, “umm money?”
His answer made you chuckle, “seriously? Why would I act if money is a special item? I know you’re not using your brain.”
“You said say whatever you think!” He smirked, although he didn’t exactly know why he said that.
“Alright fine! It’s a camera.” You pulled out your baby-pinked camera, the type that prints out your photos.
“Anddd I’m guessing you’re gonna take a photo of me with that view as the background?”
“Why not? I’d like to look at your photos! You never send or give me your pics!”
“Well it’s just that I don’t really have photos of myself heh,” his voice quieter, realising that he had kept no memory for most of his childhood.
“My camera can fix that!” You poked his cheek affectionately, “but if you’re not ready now, it’s okay. But you’re taking at least one tonight..”
Your affection made Dazai smile slightly. When he glanced at you, you were already trying to take a photo of yourself, and he of course, saw his opportunity to get slip himself into the frame.
CONTEXT reader gives dazai a little makeup for their date
NOTE fluff, SFW, first fanfic
Dazai didn’t even know how did he end up in the fancy room of a perky girl who’s very into fashion… and him. In front of him was a desk with makeup products scattered all over and a mirror displaying his reflection enhanced by lightings. Beside him was you, applying concealer right under his eyes before gently blending.
Your room was messy with magazines laid on the floor in all directions, wigs of all kind, glittering thousands of accessories and wardrobes full of stylish clothes. Despite the mess, your room was warm and cozy, a contrast to his dull room in a container.
“Is it doneee?” his voice came out with a sense of impatience, carrying a slightly dramatic tone. He tried to shift a little from the current position he was in for hours. His poor attempt failed miserably when he felt her pull him back.
“Come on, sweetie. Just a few more minutes,” you tried to reassure, “after this we could do whatever we wish. I have so many fun plans for us!!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. This day was already starting off tedious with this makeup section. But I can’t complain. I do like being touched by you and having all your attention on me,” he finished with a shameless smirk, hoping to get a flustered face.
“At least you get to see yourself differently and avoid your friends spotting you,” was the only thing you said in return, completely ignoring his cheeky comment. Dazai felt a little embarrassed but decided to act as if he was not affected by it.
By the time the makeup section was done, Dazai looked at himself in the mirror. You weren’t wrong; he did indeed looked different, his attractive features standing out clearly. His face wore a satisfied smile, impressed by your skills.
“I guess the time was worth it.. You’re quite the excellent artist, aren’t you?” he complimented as he tried making expressions with his new look.
“Of course. There’s no need to hesitate when it comes to trusting me,… in makeup,” your voice was filled with pride as you looked at him endearingly.
A random thought crossed his mind, “aren’t you afraid of other girls trying to steal me away from you with how handsome I look now?” he teased, waiting for your reaction.
“You dare think about flirting with other ladies?” you raised an eyebrow, feigning offense, “well, actually it’s okay. No girl will ever keep up with you the way I do. You will always end up returning to me in the end. Might lose me though.”
Your response amused Dazai. He was expecting you to be all jealous and possessive. Instead, this made him more interested in you.
please help spread this,Indonesians that are speaking up are actively being silenced.if you didn't know,Indonesians are protesting against their own government but instead of listening they decided to silence us by shutting down TikTok live in Indonesia since people are updating about the protest through there.Now the police are being told to harm the very same people they are supposed to protect. No one is safe. Recently,on 28th of August a 21 year old delivery driver named Affan Kurniawan was struck by a police vehicle not once but TWICE.the police vehicle stopped for a moment and ran him over again,what baffles me the most is that they said it was an "accident".there was also a video where one of the polices in the car was caught saying " Tabrak aja"(just hit them).people said that multiple people were also struck by the Police vehicle but I don't know if its true or not.recently in Jakarta mass shootings are actively happening,there were teenagers that got hit and died some weren't even joining in the protest.the police are also attacking the medical teams and journalists even though there's a rule to never harm or attack them.all of this isnt entirely the polices fault,it's mostly the politicians that ordered them to do it.it was also said that some of the d3ad bodies were even thrown into the lake.
Please pray for us and help spread this.
Like I said,Indonesians are actively being silenced about this situation.they are even planning to cut off the internet and electricity so whenever you try to record what's going on you will hardly be able to see anything.
idk abt others but yes i do eat up every single one of ur hs au bc it's so silly and yes i am looking at you with a chuuya plushie in my hand to ask for a dazai x reader hs au fanfic
✧ "YOU ARE THE CITY OF MY HEART"
☆ synopsis ↺: skipping class with your classmate, dazai yet again. but this time, you explore the ocean of your feelings together.
☆ content ↺: HIGHSCHOOL AU 15ZAI, musical prodigy! dazai, photographer! dazai, introvert! dazai, slightly ooc, fluff
☆ NOW PLAYING ↺: UNDERSTAND — keshi
☆ w/c ↺: 2k
you don't think you have ever lived without noise,
ever since you were a kid, you were talked your ear off by your parents, lectured by several adults, and screamed plentifully with friends. when there was silence, there was music to mask it. good or bad noise, it existed, survived, and was a huge part of your life.
but you,
Dazai Osamu, are probably the quietest person you've ever known.
the only sound you could associate with him was the shutter of a camera taking a picture—the same sound you've been continually hearing.
It was a regular school day, both dressed in full uniform, baking under the bright rays of the morning sun. There wasn't anything particularly wrong about this day. you could pick off the reddening leaves from bark-ridden tree branches and soak in the imprint of tree stumps, looking ever so similar to that of a fingerprint. it was a pretty autumn day; you just so happened to get to see that. you think, taking a withering leaf into the palm of your hand.
shutter.
"osamu, stop taking photos of me." —you chide, gently swatting the pointed camera out of view. the brunette in front of you, currently crouching, laughs boyishly as he removes his face pressed against the camera, gaze now overseeing the autumn sight before him. "sorry," dazai whispers, tinkering with a few buttons to review the photos he took. "you don't have to skip class with me, y'know." he murmurs, eyes glued to his camera.
he was a photographer, a pretty one at that. quiet and mysterious, you were rather surprised to learn that a boy reads fine literature and other classical means. sometimes, he picked up a violin or combined delicate fingers to gracefully waltz with a grand piano. his most prized possession was a camera, freezing the most beautiful of the intricacies of nature and people. but who was he? the boy who read books instead of taking notes in lectures, wavy chocolate brown hair that sun rays adored to find a home in, and a tall and slim build fitted in a school uniform and bandages. to capture the slope of his cheek, the deep hazel in hollow irises, and his olive skin. he was Dazai Osamu, a walking mystery.
so, you'd like to know where you stood with him in terms of relationship and if he even likes you at all. skipping class together, sneaking in your window at night, pretending to hang out with friends if it meant seeing him—it didn’t feel like something close friends did, like he was a secret you wanted to keep for yourself. but you couldn’t tell if that greed was reciprocated, if he was bored, or even considered you a close friend, a best friend. but instead of worrying too much, you only watch how his fingers work with a bulky camera, capturing nature's highs and lows.
“i know,” you twiddle with your fingers, grumbling, “class is boring anyway.” the brunette furrows his brows at the photos, brushing your excuse off, “this is shit. i think i’ve taken enough photos around the school.” he groans softly; you could practically hear his creative mind burning in the process. “did you delete the picture of me?” you question, standing over the lanky boy’s crouched form. “no, that one is good. i mean, the actual background, it's all repetitive.”
you tap a finger on your chim, “ahh,” you hum, pretending to understand his perspective. “winter should be here already.” the teenager grumbles under his breath before letting go of the camera to let it hang off his neck. you pace around slowly, feeling the surface of leaves crushing under your heels. “I mean, you don’t have to stay in school if you’re already skipping class.” you mutter, watching as a boyish grin lights up on his face. “you’re right, [y/n]! let’s go!”
a cold hand wraps his fingers around yours before dragging you to the nearest exit—"dazai!” you whine as the brunette drags you, “it’s cooooolllddddd!” you complain, your scarf nearly falling off as you run and run. hand in hand. this rather rushing feeling brings you a taste of memories you barely remember you had.
no one understood Dazai Osamu,
because he was a prodigy, he was something. something big, something great, something that made other geniuses seethe in envy. the boy had extraordinary intellect but a weak mind. no, dazai wasn't weak. he was just always unwell to a certain degree, and to most, it didn't take much to figure out—wearing long sleeves in summer, loving bandages for the comforting feelings even if he didn't need them, and reading books guiding the suicidal. dazai never hid it—that he was unwell, almost like a cry for help.
but for the genius that he was, nobody understood that.
but you did, in seventh grade. you were sniffling, pacing in remnants of snow as tears blurred your vision. though in your hazy field of sight, you outline the figure of one of your classmates approaching you, his tall frame catching the snowflakes from hitting your face. slowly, a boyish voice calls out.
"...are you okay?"
it was dazai, the stone-faced boy and talented prodigy. he wore a black trenchcoat, a little too big for his figure, and covered one of his chocolate brown eyes with bandages. you shook your head, a throbbing pain added from the tinge of snowflakes collecting in your hair. his stoic gaze never left you, standing there in the middle of a snowstorm, crying. the boy himself couldn't muster a feasible reason for walking outside in a snowstorm at this hour, so out of courtesy and a slight tinge of nervousness, he whispered, "let's go for a walk."
suddenly, nimble fingers reach out to grab yours; your fingers are used to originally wipe snot and cover your face. but dazai had no reaction to anything gross like that—like snot and tears. instead, he took shaky fingers into the cold ones of his own, pulling you gently along the sidewalk. you could barely make out his face or your feelings at the moment, only focused on his broad shoulders covered by that raven trench coat, soaking up snowflakes and the well of your tears.
from there, you walked and walked. hand in hand. soon running together with no particular destination—only feeling your body starting to warm up, sore feet clashing against snow, and his hand that never let go of yours.
Dazai Osamu never knew why you were crying, nor did you know what ever went through his head that day.
but from that moment forward,
you understood him.
soon, you were led by that same hand past pretty autumn leaves and into a foresty meadow, closed off from the rest of the world. several forms of wildlife scrapped by, followed by a murky pond under the sun's wake, surrounded by trees of reds and oranges. it perfectly provided what the school's campus couldn't—a sense of divergence reeling in the soft convolutions of your brain. "pretty, isn't it?"—the brunette chimes, panting from the long distance you two ran. "why'd you do that?" you grumble, rubbing your abdomen from an incoming sharp pain, "don't you have asthma?"
he immediately backtracks, shooting you an unamused glare, "that's.. enough." dazai huffs, before removing the strapped camera around his neck, "here, maybe you can take better pictures than i can." the boy chuckles shyly, a very drastic verbal response than his usual arrogance.
"hmm," a gentle hum slips past your lips, squinting one of your eyes in order to press the machine against your face. "i can try." after scouting the area with his camera for a few seconds, you began to snap a few shots at the darkening lake, carrying several leaves in its wake.
and as you paid full attention to the awaiting winter, dazai's gaze stayed on you, his autumn. his gaze softened and his slightly chapped lips parted in a momentary surprise, taking you in with every breath he took. Dazai himself loved photography; he loved capturing moments that would soon get lost in time. the brunette, with a talent for many things, found solace in photos. he loved to take photos of resting cats, dark sceneries you'd only find in an alleyway of a fantasy novel, and candid pictures of random couples on dates. dazai loved taking photos but detested that he didn't have a camera on hand at the moment—for he wanted to freeze this divine sight of you in the confines of his brain. your face, fingers, the dip and curve of every facial feature, and how the lighting kisses your skin and hair.
"how's it like? being a total genius?"
you were rather familiar with all your classmates, just curiously getting to know the mysterious musical prodigy, dazai osamu. it was a work period, and everyone in class already begun to slack off, especially since there was a supply.
and you knew that the lanky boy was eerily quiet when the school's athletic hotshot, Chuuya Nakahara, wasn't around. so, asking stupid questions won't exactly result in stupid answers, or so you thought.
"why? wanna be like me?" — he smiles teasingly, tilting his sharp jaw in your direction. "don't think someone who cries in the snow can do it, sorry." you freeze up and scoff, slightly embarrassed from the former interaction you had with him. "dick." a peaceful but awkward silence fills the air between both of you before the boy clears his throat awkwardly. "But i'd be willing to talk about it if you let me bother you at lunch.?"
the question itself caught you off guard. looking around at the chattering students, "i—" the brunette backtracked, hiding his face slightly with gauzed fingers. "Actually!—I am going to bother you. you're friends with chuuya, aren't you?" you shrug, eyes fluttering to the ground, "..i guess so, but i don't eat with him or his friends."
A breathless chuckle slips past the prodigy's lips before covering his mouth softly, completely ignoring you, "alright then, see you anyway, crybaby."
he hates himself for not knowing what to do with you, but he loved you more to let hate consume him, like usual. dazai wanted you; he didn't know what yearning was until he saw pieces of you in sunsets, rain and snow. he's felt destiny with his childhood friend, chuuya nakahara. but he's never felt something so desiring, pining — like he wanted to be with you every day. and maybe one of those days he'll feel you without the stupid gauze wrapped around his fingers. maybe one day he can hold your hand without the excuse of dragging you somewhere new. maybe one day, dazai will figure out how to ask you to be his, how to love you, because he's sure you're the one he wants to love.
"ahh, wait.."
you cock a brow at his shocked face, grabbing onto your sleeve as if the prodigy were reaching for the stars.
"I wish I were a painter, instead." the boy pouts, holding your sleeve childishly, pulling a chuckle from your throat, "why is that, huh?"
dazai's eyes, ever so empty and unfilled, now gleam, pretty and gentle. Softly reaching out to part a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear, gazing up at you feverishly. "usually, I'm so prideful about these things, photography.."
The prodigy clears his throat, his fingers threading through soft strands of hair tucked behind your ear. "But your eyes, they are really pretty." Your lips part bashfully surprised, overcoming your ability to move.
The boy continues as if his mouth was switched on autopilot: " So I wish I could paint them instead. I guess just looking works, too, though."
He smiles cheekily.
all you ever knew was noise,
but you, Dazai Osamu, had that kind of silence to keep you awake at night. Whether that'd be holding hands in a snowstorm, or the few moments he'd stare into your eyes.
Little did you know, that was the moment he fell in love. Or rather, the time it took him to realise you don't fall.
That love has grown before you can even realise it.
