will o' wisp.

voyage du rien. indie andre gide. written by silver.

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ARE YOU 18 years or younger and need a dad? accept andre gide today!

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edgyfire:

He had to admit, that explanation was fair. This was an abandoned warehouse after all; not exactly a place where you would expect to run into many people. Or anyone at all, really. That had been Salem’s reason for coming here, it wasn’t strange to think that someone else had the same idea. Unfortunately, this meant he wasn’t -in fact- alone with his thoughts.

“Ah well… you might want to work on your ninja techniques then.” A sad attempt at being funny. He wouldn’t admit it to a stranger, but it was nice to have mindless chatter with a new face for once. Especially if you knew that neither part would stay around too long; no dangers of getting attached. It was just good enough to fill a few moments of silence.

Taking another breath of smoke and blowing it out, orange eyes watched the little cloud float upwards, slowly thinning out and eventually disappearing into the void of the world. Sometimes he wished he could do the same; float away like a soft cloud of smoke.

“You a traveller then or something? Cause if you’re up to something shady I might have to stop you right here. Which I hope I won’t have to- I don’t like cleaning up during my free time.” 

      gide raises a brow slowly, finding little humor in the words. perhaps it was the fact it was coming from a stranger, perhaps it was the fact it was in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of the night... or perhaps it was both, which was the better choice, all things considered. while gide doesn’t feel threatened by this young man -- teenager? he can’t tell -- in the slightest, that doesn’t change the fact his presence being here is out of the ordinary. simple common sense tells the former soldier this person is not a ‘normal’ individual. gang related, maybe port mafia.

he’d prefer anything but the latter, as he’s done away with his involvement with them 4 years ago.

“... if i were genuinely trying to avoid detection, you wouldn’t have noticed me.”  gide answers at last, side-stepping away from the stranger.  “and i am no traveler. i’ve lived here for 4 years, thank you.”  he gestures to the bag on his shoulder, shrugging lightly.  “my friend is a doctor helping those who cannot attend a normal hospital and she left her bag here recently. i came to retrieve it. that is all.”

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edgyfire:

@feuxfallets

The air blowing into his face was cold, almost painfully so, as he walked down a path he knew not many people frequented at this time of the night. Solitude was what he sought, hoping to find it in his usual ‘thinking spot’ by the abandoned warehouse. He needed to get his mind off things; specifically a scene he had witnessed earlier but wished he had not. 

His footsteps echoed against the hallow walls of the building he had entered a few seconds ago. Sure enough, he seemed to be alone. Taking off the hood of his jacket, Salem let out a heavy sigh. It was basically his own fault he felt like this, he told himself, he had no right to feel this miserable. Yet he did, and it bothered him.

Half-frozen fingers reached into his pockets, taking hold of his well-known box of cigarettes. Placing one of the deadly sticks between his lips, he was swift in lighting it up with the lighter he always carried around. Taking a deep breath of it, Salem choked when he realised he was not, in fact, alone and it took him nearly a minute to catch his breath once more.

“Jesus, dude! You freaking scared me there. You could have said something instead of just standing there in the shadows!”

      pros of knowing an underground nurse : gide has no need to go to a hospital and be asked where his immigration papers are since he, in fact, does not have any and she will tend to him herself without question. the cons to this? when she leaves some of her supplies on the bad side of the city necessary for her work, gide is the one she calls to go retrieve it since she isn’t stupid enough to go by herself at night.

gide is glad she has that much common sense, but at the same time it isn’t as if he wants to go either and possibly get involved in something he doesn’t. 4 years ago was his final act with any organizations, especially those of a criminal nature. if he could get in and get out in this abandoned warehouse without anyone being around to notice, he’d be satisfied.

he was nearly feeling good about the situation until he notices a young man light up a cigarette, illuminating the former soldier’s shadow against the wall to his left. gide frowns, hesitating as he shifts how the bag hanging from his shoulder sits. he waits until the stranger catches his breath, then deadpans.

“i didn’t want to be seen to begin with.”  gide admits matter of factly.  “i’ve no business here to begin with outside of retrieving something for a friend of mine, speaking to you included, boy.”

[feuxfallets-blog]

whomst wants to write me a starter bc i have no ideas

[fukainoumi-deactivated20181202]

    ❝ I don’t want love anymore;  though it’s the one thing I’ve been searching for, though it’s the one thing that I miss the most. Now I’m afraid to be alone. – ♪ ❞ The gentle lilt of Fai’s timid voice dies slowly when the wind picks up the sounds of footsteps behind him. It’s not as if he’s particularly embarrassed to be caught singing – he’d done this so many times before when he was not alone, but it was that he felt guilt. Just a little bit. He thinks he might unintentionally disturb this person if he continues ( not everyone is friendly to a song or two ).

    ❝ Ah…. pardon me. I hope I’m not in your way. ❞ It’s but a faint murmur almost swallowed whole by the howling of the autumn wind around them. ❝ … This is a nice place. It’s quiet. ❞

@feuxfallets

[feuxfallets-blog]

      there’s a small chill in the air, one that is just subtle enough to be more comforting to gide than anything. a lover of the cold, the snow and winter, he can only lean back to relish in the feeling as he exhales cigarette smoke into the air. basile lays next to him at his feet, lounging in the sun. he lifts his hand to take another drag, pausing when the gentle voice of a man hits his ears.

singing? it’s rather beautiful.

he turns his body, watching as a blonde man comes into view, stopping in front of where gide is leaning against a tree. the former soldier smiles politely, waving the hand holding his cigarette reassuringly.   “don’t let me stop you. you have a charming voice, it’d be a shame to stop before you finish.”

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edgyfire:

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edgyfire:

[aesthetic-hymn]

André Gide (BSD)

“We lost our homeland and our honour. We became ghosts wandering a wasteland in search of enemies to fight.” 

Song: In My Time Of Dying by Led Zeppelin

➥request from anon

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the knife through your second rib.

          LEGACY DIES SILENTLY IN THE THIN SHADOW of friendship, slaughtered by medea’s loving hand. she towers over the burning memory, embraced by the divine’s chariot: just like her, ango sakaguchi casts a downward gaze upon the man he ruined. the agent’s face is empty of emotion, statuesque and complete in its emotionless beauty. he does not smile. he does not peel open his own face to show remorse. he is surrounded by loneliness, and as he walks towards gide, that loneliness seems to thicken.

          ❛ how domestic. ❜ he says, ignoring the question posed in the other’s expression, and his voice is laced with a wild, vicious venom, shoved down but struggling to surface. ❛ civilian life seems to be treating you well, gide. ❜

      there is merely a ghost of the man gide once knew -- a will-o-wisp of rose scented candles and whispers in his mother tongue he sometimes wishes he could have back. 4 years is a long time, and 6 years is longer, but andré gide can still distinctly remember the day he had met sakaguchi ango; he can remember the days that followed, how he had come to care for the man who said he was there to help him.

help from the snake in the so-called ‘garden of eden’ is nothing but the road to ruin. years ago, gide didn’t care how he got there so long as he could lead his men to it. that isn’t what hurt. what hurts is the metaphorical blade shoved into his second rib and straight into his heart, twisting and curling as he is reminded of BETRAYAL.

“i’m sure you envy me for it.”  gide shoots back, the calculating cottian alps coldness in his eyes fading on his command when he blinks it away.  “civilian life does not treat me, i treat it, and i live as simply as possible. unless you’re here to take me away from it, government agent.”

[feuxfallets-blog]

it’s winter time in yokohama -- gide’s favorite time of year. it’s the fourth year he’s spent the season in this city, the place he’s learned to call home since the fall of mimic and their leader, who was unfortunately still alive, decided to take a new path. he hasn’t forgotten the words of the man he wanted to kill him, the words of an oda sakunosuke saying that he doesn’t have to die, that he can choose another life to lead.

gide never would have thought that his life would be in the same city that man was from, or he could live so peacefully, so simply. even now as he walks down the snow-covered sidewalk fumbling with some new paint brushes and a bag of sweets for the children that would be visiting him on the weekend.

they’d be spending christmas with their families, so he plans on celebrating a bit early so they don’t feel bad he can’t be arou--

his shoulder knocks into someone in the midst of his thoughts, and paintbrushes scatter around their feet. gide kneels down to pick one of them up, cursing quietly. “shoot, i’m sorry about tha--”

when he looks up, any apology dies in his throat. as if his throat has filled with blood from a silver bullet, as if gunsmoke is making him choke on his words, his lips can do nothing but say one word:

“saku... nosuke...”

@redestine.

[feuxfallets-blog]

      “hey, hey, calm down - the food’s not going anywhere, alright?”  the man chides gently to the puppy  (his newest find a few days ago)  nearly inhaling the dog food he had just poured into a bowl for it. across the yard that was more or less completely dirt, a few other strays are calmly eating at their own portion. basile, being the only dog to truly be owned by gide, is sitting behind him on the stairs and watching in silence. however, something creates a rise in him, causing the dog to stand up and give a low growl from the back of his throat.

gide’s brows raise, turning his head in the direction basile is glaring at - and everything seems to stop. something in gide’s body freezes over, then reheats in the same moment, sending a nauseating feeling to his head so fast he feels dizzy.

the former soldier sets a hand atop basile’s head, gently shushing him until the dog slowly relaxes under his touch. though gide says nothing in greeting to the agent standing just outside the entrance to the empty lot from the side alley, his expression does enough:

why are you here?

@defaces.

[feuxfallets-blog]

( inmaculati. )

     gide had once called his and oda’s ability omnipotent. though it was mostly used in battle, to prevent his own death, technically it could be used anytime he wished to do so. in other words, he could technically foresee gide’s next moves ( and gide, oda’s ). but something odasaku dislikes is depending solely on his ability – he hopes to be much more skilled than what his ability allows him to.

however, this means that the sudden touch, gentle against his cheek, is anything but expected from the former assassin. for a split second, oda wants to reel back, his eyes widening in clear surprise. it’s as if time had stopped for him – part of him wonders if the ex-soldier feels the same way.

but after that, when his heart begins beating normally once more, oda feels a warmth bubbling in his stomach, as gentle as the touch itself. he almost feels regretful when gide pulls away, and it takes everything not to show it. ⎡ i don’t know why you’d be so willing to do so much. ⎦the sigh that leaves his lips is one of exasperation, wishing to know why. ⎡ but…thank you. ⎦

      sometimes, gide is a bit regretful sakunosuke is so oblivious to this bit of truth despite him being a detective -- at the same time, he’s glad for it knowing that he can keep his secrets to himself without the younger finding out, if he so chooses to never speak of them. had the redhead been anyone else, been any different, he would’ve long since known by now and let him be.  ( had he been anyone else, perhaps gide would not be in love with him either. )

the voice of an annoying detective and awful company echoes in the back of his head, and he contemplates just saying it... but he can’t. knowing him, he’ll say it and leave because of his newfound cowardice, and doing that now would leave his company stranded -- the soldier has some sense, after all.

“well... it doesn’t matter too much in the end, does it? you deserve the help, and i’m willing to give it. that’s all there is to it.”  gide answers at last, before he turns to head back to his bike.  “you look tired. i’ll take you home now.”  he pauses for a moment as if remembering something, glancing over his shoulder with a warm smile.  

“and -- thank you for telling me more about you. i come to like you more and more by the day, sakunosuke.”

[feuxfallets-blog]

inmaculati:

     ⎡ you’re an idiot. ⎦ he responds, red eyes looking straight into gide’s silver, voice as deadpan as always. the lack of distance is not something that bothers odasaku– they’ve been even closer than this, after all, in each others arms as they fought to the death. 

if anything, he feels oddly comfortable being this close to the soldier, sighing softly as he watches the other step back, the ring of smoke disappearing above them. 

what oda had said– was not a response towards gide’s teasing, but towards the idea that his life does not matter to anyone. though he may be a war criminal, unable to step into his home country, oda finds it ridiculous that his family would toss him aside so easily. if they’re a family worth remembering so fondly, then they must also hold the same opinion of the ex - soldier, missing him as much as he misses them. because that’s what family does – or at least his own definition of family.

all the ex - assassin can do is turn his head away and face the sea once more, smoking the cigarette until it’s no more than a butt that is thrown aside. ⎡ we should go back to yokohama. i don’t … want to keep bothering you. ⎦

      “perhaps.”  gide wastes no time agreeing. he knows that his actions in the past, and now, are nothing short of foolish and the whimsical hopes of a ridiculous man trying to find a reason to keep going while drowning himself in distractions he hopes will give him some meaning. the only reason he stands here now instead of being a decaying corpse with ribs filled with flowers is because of this man.

( he’s fallen hopelessly in love, heart wrapped in red string and tied to sakunosuke’s wrists, so he may follow like the loyal dog he is -- you saved me, i love you, so i would do anything for you, i’ll do anything you ask of me. )

his love is so apparently obvious to everyone but the intended person -- is this punishment? irony? whatever the case, he knows he deserves just this, that someone like him is not worthy of sakunosuke’s affection, but... dazai’s words still ring in his head. it makes him purse his lips while finishing his cigarette and dropping it to allow it to be snuffed out by his boot.

“you’re never a bother, sakunosuke,”  gide assures him, a hand reaching out to cup his face and brush a thumb over his cheek. his smile is warm, happy even.  “for you, i’d do anything you ask of me -- and happily.”

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inmaculati.

it would be, oda thinks in silence, eyes focussed on the calm waves that come and go from the shore. he considers it little more than a faraway dream, one that will run farther and farther away as he tries to approach it until it will, surely, turn into dust. part of him wants to give up on it, let become nothing – because he does not feel that he deserves such a wonderful fate. 

but his stubbornness shines through every day, forcing him to take a step each day in that direction so that, maybe one day, he can reach that dream of sitting down on a desk with a seaside view. 

⎡ i never considered you to be a sickly person. i was, too – well, am. smoking doesn’t help.⎦ fighting a chuckle, oda smirks as he, for added irony, pulls out a cigarette, lighting an end of it with a match. letting silence fall between them, he inhales, taking a moment to savor the taste of the tobacco. the thought of gide having a normal life, with a mother, cousins, and uncles. enjoying their life happily like normal people. 

it’s a concept that is so foreign to odasaku that he can’t even will himself to feel any amount of envy towards the ex - soldier. instead, he exhales the fumes, eyes closing. ⎡ it sounds like a nice life. ⎦ he fishes through his coat pocket, bringing out the box of cigarettes and nudging them in gide’s direction. ⎡ do ever you miss them? ⎦

      most wouldn’t, seeing how i look now. gide thinks, but he doesn’t find it relevant enough to voice with words. instead, he remains silent, arching a brow at the redhead and his ironic commentary. really, the two of them haven’t changed at all in the end, have they? they still do things they’re well aware taking a toll on their health, choosing the slow and painful route towards death because they feel they still deserve it.

what fools they are.

‘a nice life’, he says -- gide can’t put it any simpler than that. it was nice, quaint, pleasant until he was old enough to join the army, barely being able to enjoy the name he made for himself until his life as a commander was ruined by the same country he swore to protect.

“i suppose,”  the older admits, studying the box offered out to him before accept it and opening the top to pluck one of the cigarettes out the container. he tries not to think about the letters he has hidden away in one of the drawers of his art room, all written to the same person -- juliette rondeux, a loving mother -- that he has no intention of sending. after all, he is a dead man, a traitor to his country. as far as his family knows, he’s dead... and gide figures that, ultimately, it’s better off that way.  “but i don’t think my existence matters much to anyone anymore, let alone my home country and those in it.”

he places the cigarette into his mouth, pausing when he realizes he has no way of lighting it. silver eyes shift to focus on the cigarette burning in sakunosuke’s hand before he steps closer, their foreheads almost touching as he presses the end of his cigarette against the redhead’s until it finally catches its own dull flame.

“you should try to stop smoking, sakunosuke. it’ll make your job a whole lot more difficult, you know.”  he teases as he steps back, blowing a small cloud of smoke over their heads.

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takaisuru:

“Has Odasaku told you that we’re friends again? We’ve managed to come past our differences and his awful tastes to be united once more. That means you can expect to start seeing me around a lot again! Aren’t you so excited?” Dazai talks as he pulls out a credit card ( that clearly does not belong to him ) to pay for the treat. “I’m sure we’ll have lots of fun together.” 

      gide isn’t sure what sort of response to give to such a declaration. dazai isn’t the type to lie about such a thing -- when he’s mad, he’s mad. end of story, no playful joking around it. the former soldier supposes he isn’t lying, and if that’s the case, and what the other is saying is the truth -----

well, gide can see why the man in question didn’t tell him this useful piece of information.

robotically, the older accepts the card, swiping it through the machine and waiting for it to be accepted. he notes the name on it isn’t dazai’s, which isn’t surprising. the brunet continues to be expectantly disappointing in every possible way.

“yes, i’m just buzzing with excitement at the mere thought of it.”  the silver haired man answers, voice blatantly deadpan as he slides over the other’s order.

“your crepe, sir.”

[feuxfallets-blog]

decadiscourse.

Sakaguchi Ango’s To-Do lists are ever crowded, but today is a special case. Certainly, Ango is much better off this time than he was the first time his car was wrecked with Dazai in the passenger seat, but his car is a bit worse for wear.

What an understatement that is. The entirety of the door on the passenger side is crushed (he supposes that he’ll have to pay for a new one) and the mirror has been broken clean off. As lamentable as his situation is, he finds solace in the fact that he is unharmed. By greater importance, he is elated that Dazai is safe. His car was towed away, and now he finds himself at the mechanic’s.

Ango stops short when he sees a familiar face and figure — one of large stature and tall. He sucks in a breath, plucking a pamphlet from a shelf, and immediately opens it, raising it up to his face in an attempt to hide it. When Gide had mentioned his assortment of jobs, Ango never imagined a mechanic would be one.

He hopes to whatever God that’s listening that he isn’t noticed.

| | | | | | @feuxfallets

      think of an occupation -- you name it -- and there’s a good chance it’s one of the countless jobs andré gide has to busy himself. at this point, he’s made a good name for himself to the point he can come and go between them all as he pleases, always changing his schedule. being a man who is technically not even supposed to be in this country, he’s a bit glad he’s trusted.

today, he’s been asked to come in and fix some poor man’s car. from what he had been told, the entire passenger side was crushed and the mirror was done for. a bit hilarious considering he always labeled the japanese as the careful sort, but he doesn’t comment on it as he studies the damage and a coworker walks up with a clipboard in hand.

“andré-san, the details you’ll need. the car make, year, all that. if it’s you, i’m sure it won’t be a problem. we really appreciate it!” the soldier is told, and he accepts it with a polite nod. 

he sighs out contemplatively, flipping a page, wondering what poor sap could’ve done something like this -- and a brow soon hitches up in a bit of surprise seeing the name of the owner. of all people...

“that makes a bit more sense.”  gide mutters to himself before looking around, attention focusing on a familiar build that happens to be hiding their face with a folder. he can’t help but shake his head a bit, resting a hand on his hip before giving a high-pitched whistle intended to get ango’s attention. it should, knowing him.

“hibou, you can stop hiding and come over here. i need to ask you some questions.”