“Stealing from the Tenryou commission is quite a hefty crime. Certainly not a feat many have pulled off, or even attempted for that matter. Now, you, who have stolen my heart; how shall I make you pay?”
Its that time of the year where i feel like moving blogs/starting new, and its hitting especially hard now. so,, i guess this is goodbye to this blog? I don't know if i would want to drop my new blog here yet (maybe if you're interested, i'll dm you the url), but i'll keep you all updated! i'll still check this account every once in a while, and I will not deactivate this account, because i feel like i have a few good fics here that i don't exactly want to lose.
thank you all so much for your continuous support and 200+, it's been great being here with all of you :)
by popular demand i’ll be writing the scara fluff first! hanahaki fic next (i voted for soft bsd just so i could see the results; so technically theyre tied).
Dazai was well acquainted with loss. Having seen the disastrous aftermath, the carnage left behind by the ever moving cyclone of life, having fed body upon body of corpses to the jaws of death, he’d never been one to be in denial when faced with the pain death brought along.
You? Dead?
Dazai just found it hard to believe
You weren’t dead. You couldn’t be dead.
He had hoped, one day, to die a painless death with you in his arms. And that’ll happen, right? You’ll stay right by his side, now and forever?
This had to be some trick. You wouldn’t leave him alone in this cold cruel world. Would you? You promised him you’d stay with him, so why was he alone?
You were the light in his life, the light driving the darkness away, keeping afloat his will to live. Your smile was contagious, and he often found himself eased from his burdens in your presence. It was like dancing in sunshine, letting the rays of light sink into his skin, enveloping him in warmth.
He likes to imagine a world, a world where you aren’t gone. A world where you lay in his embrace, contentedly sound asleep.
Let me live this pitiful fantasy a while longer
𝗔𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿
Red. it was all he could see. Clouds of crimson blurred his vision, his heart thumping loudly, threatening to burst out of his ribcage.
Why does it matter? Why does anything matter?
Chuuya felt a dizzying rush to his head, perplexing yet intoxicating all the same. Feeling the adrenaline rush through his blood, he grins, a mad, wide grin as he delivers a firm kick to an enemy’s chest. Upon seeing the man stagger back, his smile drops.
“Tell me.” grabbing a fistful of the man’s hair, he leaned closer to the man's face. “Why did you bastards kill (Y/n)?”
“I-i-” the man stuttered, struggling to form words as Chuuya's grip on his head tightened.
“Speaking now, huh?” his voice came out a low warning, making the man quiver
“I-I don’t know who that is” the man blurted, raising his hands in an attempt to discourage any further actions that would harm him. Eyes darkening, Chuuya sends a glare at his subordinates, a silent warning for them to back off.
“You really thought that pathetic lie would spare you?” Chuuya scoffed, letting go of the man’s head before giving it a harsh push downwards.
“It's about time you learnt your actions have consequences.”
𝗕𝗮𝗿𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴
“And you, darling? How’s the afterlife treating you up there?” leaning against your grave, she smiled dolefully up at the sky. The sky was oh so bright with hues of blue, shimmering beams of light highlighting the silhouettes of nearby graves, a stark contrast to how she felt.
Yosano doesn’t think she's ever felt so alone. Just when she started to feel a sense of homeliness in you, you were abruptly snatched away by the bony claws of death.
The angel of death, they called her. If she truly was the angel of death, why couldn't she have done anything? She doesn’t think she’s ever felt so helpless.
That feeling of helplessness, so thick and dense with guilt, an ocean of self blame, swallowing her whole little by little.
I couldn’t save them
That feeling of a hole left in her heart by her inability to save you, a deep trench she yearned to fill again.
I can’t save anyone
The overwhelming regret over not being able to do anything about your death was starting to spiral downwards, deeper and deeper, until it became unbearable, a desperate cling to anything that might redeem her, to atone for her uselessness.
I’ll save them like I could’ve saved you. And maybe then, i can redeem myself just a little
𝗗𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻
For the world’s greatest detective, Ranpo thought himself to be stupid.
If he couldn’t save you, was he truly deserving of the title?
If only he had a more useful, more practical ability. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been so useless, maybe then he wouldn’t have had to watch you die. Maybe then, instead of assuring you he’d help you, that you’d live, he could’ve saved you.
But it is far too late for that, he thinks. You were gone, lost to an eternal slumber, and that was irreversible.
He tries to visit you, he really does. He prepares bags filled to the brim with his favorite candy, and some of yours too. But he just can't bring himself to. As soon as he sees your grave, a silent reminder of his inability, he just can't. Setting down the bags, he’d try and talk to you about anything, from how his day went to any complaints he had. But in the end, he always does not muster out even a single word, instead opting to give you a silent goodbye, a silent I’m sorry.
This is your favorite, remember? One day, when we are together again, I'll be sure to treat you to some more
𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲
It was always his wish to grow old with you. To stay with you forever, to love you evermore. To have you by his side through thick and thin, to be able to relish in the light of your laugh.
But it seems fate did not see it that way. For life to have taken you away, for life to have separated you. Life wasn’t fair, and he knew that well.
Fukuzawa saw you in everyday mundane things. A cup of tea, boiled to perfection, without flaw except for the fact it did not taste quite the same as the way you did it. A small figure of a cat you bought him, now alone, though polished regularly. Items left behind before your death, items that he did not find the strength to put away. And though you were long gone, your presence around him never seemed to dissipate.
He’d visit you every once in a while. Arms loaded with fresh flowers and tiny trinkets he knew you’d like, along with a bit of your favorite tea. Carefully polishing your grave, leaving not a speck of dust in sight. Staying until late into the night, a cup of tea set carefully on your grave while he sipped his own. Giving you one final bittersweet smile, before leaving in the early rays of dawn.
PAIRING: Angel Devil/Reader
WORD COUNT: 1.4k
TYPE: Angst
WARNING(S): SPOILERS, Implied drug abuse, alcoholism and sex
NOTE: Clichember Prompt 7: Goodbye Kiss. The end of the event.
Angel doesn’t like thinking, much less drawing parallels or recognizing patterns, but sometimes he realizes Hayakawa Aki is a little like you.
Actually, he prefers not to think about you at all, but Aki just does those things that make it obvious he has little regard for his life and he has to. And sometimes Angel thinks this profession is all about watching other people burn themselves up and then lose all importance when the smoke clears. Though maybe it’s easy to think that, for him, anyway, because he doesn’t get much work done at all.
warnings | hurt/comfort, descriptions of blood and injury, some suggestive language
a/n | i imagine reader doesn’t quite know about aki’s family yet, and his history with the gun devil, because they’re early enough in their relationship that he hasn’t quite opened up yet! keep that in mind when reading and the secrecy/lack of transparency about feelings will make more sense :) cover credit here!
read on ao3
Aki looks like shit.
His normally stark-white shirt is blood-spattered, top knot askew, gaunt shadows pulling his features sharp against his bones.
He barely makes it through the doorway, shoulder leaving a bloody skid against the wall as you try your best to cushion his fall. His breathing is ragged, chest rising and falling so shallowly you’re not sure if it’s the brush with near death that’s making it hard to breathe or if it’s something worse – a punctured lung or a cracked rib – he’s dealt with it all before.
It seems like only yesterday when we first met. Countless memories, countless joys. I will be sure to treasure those moments.
Days, weeks, months, it's felt like a blur ever since I met you.
Will you celebrate this wonderous day with me?
. . .
Hello everyone!
As some of you may know, today, December 4th, marks the 10th anniversary of Bungou Stray Dogs.
It's been a wonderful year and a half since I joined this lovely fandom. I've made so many friends, met so many awesome and inspiring writers, and reached a total of 205 followers here, as of now.
So in celebration, I'll be hosting an event! The description is as follows:
𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬;
List 10 words that come to mind- go wild!
Based on your selection of words, you will be assigned a character, along with a drabble of them on a very special day :)
The drabbles will vary, but should average around 300 words, give or take. (Apologies, long writing isn't really my thing and sometimes I struggle to write more than 500 words for one thing. I'll try my best though !)
… 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 (for mutuals!*)
Thank you for your support and sticking with me !! You'll also recieve a list of things that the character adores about you!
*The reason why this is mutual exclusive is because I would prefer to know more about you before doing this, so I can get a more accurate scope of what you outside of things you tell me!
𝐒𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬; infite, but the first 15 will get their drabble guarenteed. I'll try my best to get to all of them, so don't worry if you got here late!
