without meaning.

[nogoodwitch-archiive-deactivate]

Monster Factory Sentence Starters

“Nice baby grab, nerd.”  “Nice robe, Mr. Smith.”  “We have to reduce him to a quantum state.”  “This how you do me?!”  “Leave me something!” “I’m gonna be in a deep depression for a few minutes.”  “This drill thing looks like a sex thing.”  “Things can get bad, but they can get a whole lot worse.” “You remind me of a lover I once took.” “She’s like human coffee.” “This is a woman on her way to disney.”  “I feel like weapons are just accessories.”  “I should eat my ex husband?”  “Who’s gonna be scared of a dog that size?”  “Too many beautiful boys.”  “Oh you want to start shit over this?”  “I’m not gonna do anything morally repugnant.” “I did a lot of terrible shit today.” “I’m gonna have to no scope that one.”  “That might be a situation we’ll have to deal with later.”  “Well, this seems like not the best tactically.”  “What happened to your shit? It got crazy.”  “He seems like he’s a little miffed at me, yeah.”  “I think this is the other place, the hot one.” “This way to my genitalia.” “Oh my god he’s so slippery.” “I can see myself in him. In more ways than one.”  “Take it to the bank, boys.”  “Is this too upsetting?”  “I just found a murder scene.”  “It’s full of demons and it crashes my fucking computer.”  “Please don’t sing Duran Duran songs during my speech thank you.”  “Feast with me you little monsters.”  “I can’t believe it’s nude and nasty here.”  “Everywhere you look, there’s a breast or three.”  “I’m starting to think freebies is some weird sex act.”  “Oh god that animated vagina is back again.”  “There’s three ways to bone in I-R-L.”  “I think I could pull off these looks, but only because I’m a giant pervert.”  “You look like Oswald Cobblepot finally went off the deep end.”  “Now let’s see if this coward can really keep me out.”  “Well that’s fucking fair.”  “Please let us in.”  “These two anime women are saying foul things.” 

[beastrobed]

“ Why did you do something so stupid? “

5 Ws sentence starters. | not accepting!

“ … ” 

there it is again. ryuunosuke stands, his body tense and his posture stiff, with clenched fists and gritted teeth in front of his superior. his unblinking stare is directed at a point on dazai’s chest. whenever dazai is angry with him, he finds it inexplicably difficult to lift his head in defiance and meet that abyssal gaze … but he won’t lower it either.

he may be a dog of the mafia, but that doesn’t make him tame.

“ i believed it was the correct course of action. ”  it isn’t that he’s trying to justify himself. dazai has asked him a question; consequently, ryuunosuke gives him an honest answer. excuses have no place here – he can only show his spine and stand by what he has done. if there is one thing he has learned while working under him, it is that you cannot lie to dazai and get away with it.

dazai’s disappointment is apparent – more than that, it is so painfully obvious that it stings. ryuunosuke is acutely aware that his actions resulted in a less desirable outcome than intended this time around, and that knowledge brings with it the familiar feeling of frustration. sometimes it seems that no matter what he does, he continues to fall short. 

no matter. he will not waver. 

pain is a constant companion, and his respect for dazai transcends anything he may have to endure in order to continue serving under him. he is braced to take whatever punishment his mentor deems appropriate. 

[nullifi-blog1]

im literally stuck between “We’re well past that” and "God can't hear you" and can we just flip a coin.

@domineer | meme

"God can't hear you"

That shuts him up; at least for a second to ponder theconcept.  God? 

A man pushed todesperation cries to even the most unlikely sources.  And desperate doesn’t begin to describe the present situation.

He recoils even further to the back of the chair; the one feardrove him to stand upon, and comes precariously close to tipping the wholething.  

               “ Can anyone ?”  

It’s a sad statement; A rhetorical question.  He may aswell be begging into the null and endless void. But this exercise in futility is a necessary one, an inescapable one asDazai once again catches sight of the horrible object between Yosano’sfingers.  A flu shot is a steep price forsomeone indifferent enough to the health of his coworkers; to someone who hatesthe concept of intentional pain.  But agencypolicy is as inexorable as the bitter end.

That small, happy inevitability relaxes him enough to standstill, at least; step down from the chair and cross his arms in defense.  He frowns; stubborn; the barest hint of a furrowed brow searching forany way out and finding done.

             “ If you’re going to do it, you might as well kill me !”

 Dazai retreats in perfect time for every step towards him the good Doctor advances. A last-ditch attempt; thesliest smile he can muster, a finger pressed against his lips;  

              “ Let’s just say you did it already and save us both the trouble .”

              “ It can be our secret from God .”  

“We’re well past that”

So rarely has Dazai given himself reason to question; sorarely is anything important enough to second guess, and those rare instancesshake him to the point of reflection.

              “ Right .”  

He stops his objection in his throat, swallows it and replacesit with a smile as subtle as it is forced. A single, unintended glance is notone either of them or the ADA can afford.   It’s Fukuzawa who makes the final call; Fukuzawa and his old superior.

But in a farcical cycle; that final call for collaboration spurred that unconscionableglance; spurred the tension suffocating the very air, and the uncomfortable clamminess beadingon his skin; spurred Yosano’s reminder, and the horrible recognition that DAZAI TRIPPED UP.  

He stares at her again, now with a smirk as private as theirhistories; as a half-formed, half-serious plot over too much cheap-wine.  Pitiless.  It’s what she deserves.  

               “ The end will be the same anyway.”  

[beastrobed]

            “ defeat and humiliation                              have been my constant companion.  ”

ind. akutagawa ryuunosuke. / sel. priv. mutuals only. / penned by jam. ––– personals do not reblog!

[nullifi-blog1]

“This is a weird topic...”

@straywhitetiger | meme 

                               “ You’re being too straightforward, Atsushi .”

It’s with COMPLETE nonchalance that Dazaipointedly ignores the complaint; paying far more attention to Chapter 7 of hisholy text than to either his subordinate or the work he’s supposed to be doing. It’s a simple subject; a conceivableconcept, and one that the boy has to be prepared for.  A good superiormust guide, as well as push; and Dazai is nothing if not a wonderful mentor. 

                 “ Honestly, your kidnapping is inevitable, not just likely.  Thinkof it as something to look forward to !”

A flick of a switch, or of his demeanor atthe very least.  Dazai shuts the book;looks Atsushi in the eyes.  It’s only fora second that his tone loses its sing-song lilt.

                   “ Their advice could save your life, youknow.  ‘Street Smarts.’  The topic is only as weird as your future.  ”

He leans back as far as his chair willpermit.  The Complete Manual works just aswell as a blindfold.  He shrugs; exaggerated,arms spread wide in as much of a stretch as a point.  

                   “ Or it could be totally useless and you’lldie either way. “

[straywhitetiger]

“Okay, when you get kidnapped- not if, when”

    And it was always that certainty, wasn’t it? The certainty that Dazai held in his tone, like he knew something well before everyone else, like his innate ability was a degree of omnipotence rather than nullification, was what always set Atsushi’s teeth on edge. Not if- when. When he got….

    Atsushi pushed back from the desk so hard that his chair screeched over the tile, and he instinctually flinched from the sound. But the physical apology was short lived. He trained a incredulous look at Dazai, then hurriedly questioned, “When- when did we decide I was getting- wait, what’s going on? What’d you sign me up for?” He was not briefed on a staged kidnapping and didn’t take kindly to being volun-told about something so dangerous sounding so flippantly!

[doppoem-blog]

INDEPENDENT KUNIKIDA DOPPO ROLEPLAY BLOG. written by reid. 

❝        just what is an ‘ideal’? … if you ask me, the answer is clear. it is a word written on the cover of my notebook. my notebook is omnipotent. It guides me as a principle, as a master, as a prophet. at times, it becomes a weapon and also a key.       ❞

art credit / promo credit. 

[domineer-blog]

❛ who else could pull it off but you and me ? ❜

          laughter bubbles in her throat when posed with the hypothetical, a sweet, bell-like thing that ends in a snort from the sheer hilarity of the mental landscape her imagination creates out of it (she might be a bit tipsy at this point, but who’s counting how many she’s had so far? certainly not her).

          the death of a monarch – no, a dictator. one whose reign is tainted a black so dense that shadows no longer come to play. 

          .a throaty rumble reverberates deep in her hum, drumming her fingertips along the sides of her cup as she revisits old plans that she likes to peruse through when the memories become too much to bear, to keep her mind occupied with wishful thinking and the vengeance she was never able to enact. one that she was denied but one day hopes to seize.

          she would never actively put any of them into motion, of course. the president has saved her once before, and going about something as stupid slicing off mori’s head and seeing if she could revive him after haphazardly putting him back together in the minutes she would have would be suicidal at the very best.

                   at the worst, she’s chained back under his command with no way out,                    and that’s not something she wants to risk.

          “I’m sure we could.” there’s a longing in her voice, wistful as she drains the rest of her drink in one go. she doesn’t stop until she’s gotten every drop, and slams her porcelain cup on the bar to mark her satisfaction. the sake singes and burns, but it’s a welcomed sort of warmth. at this point in time, she’s had enough in her to dust her cheeks pink from her intoxication, head leaning back to rest against her chair.

          “A visit from his old.. acquaintances.” students? pawns? he was hardly a mentor worth following. “I’m sure he’d like that.”

          part of her is curious about his experience with their shared bane, but she knows better than to push for details when he hadn’t opened up too much about it. especially ones as delicate and as personal as this. she fiercely protected hers, and she wonders too if dazai ever knew about her. how much does he know?

          “I’m sure lots of people have called dibs on that though.”

          and… down she goes, arms folded on the bar and resting her forehead on them as she continues, fingers gripping into her arm in a white-knuckled grip, then releasing. she sounds more exhausted than she ever has. “But I think – if anyone can do it, it has to be us. For that purpose.. you could use me however you want to if it means that he winds up on my table, under my knife.”

from here!

[nullifi-blog1]

❝i gave you more money than the civil war cost and you spent it already?❞

@antigravi | meme  | accepting!      

                “ Don’t be so SIMPLE,Chuuya.  You can’t afford it in this lineof work .”

Simple is bothersome. Simple sees right through him. But Dazai knows nothing if not convolution and it’s that comfort that hashim smirking, leaning back with his hands in his pockets to obscure his stackeddeck; his upper hand; (so to speak.)

                “ I invested it.  That money means more now than it ever did with you .”  

He shrugs; exaggerated.  A magician always knows where to draw foolisheyes.  ‘Investment’ is a word of greysignificance, and with the right mind, any purchase can be one in something.  

               “ Besides …”

He steps closer, into the danger zone, the vicious circle;into harms way and pleasure’s reach.  Hisfingers work their craft in his pockets as Dazai draws nearer; a countdown ofpaces. Five. Four. Three. Two–.

               “—Money doesn’t mean anything in the—"

                                                                                  One.

                         “–END!!!!”

It’s and ugly grunt thatescapes him when Dazai strikes with (FULL FORCE); the strength of ten men! (or atleast, ten hands).  His wrists dart fromhis pockets like twin serpents; towards Chuuya’s face; grumpy and exposed.  It’s a good move; enough pull that theelastic tendrils of the 10 sticky-hands he’s purchased spring all in the rightdirection.  Dazai’s agents land with awet smack against Chuuya’s cheeks;against his forehead chin and nose.  Heisn’t so UGLY with speckles of multicolored goo as an accessory.  What he IS, if Chuuya is truly as simple asDazai believes, is angry.  

Money well spent is money worth protecting as Dazai startsto wind the hands back with a haste never known to man. His sing-song chant is no victory cry, but a prayer of DESPERATION. 

                                                    “ don’t doooo–n’t donnnn’t DON’T don’t !!”     

[staraii]

Kid Gorgeous sentence starters

“You ever seen a ghost?”

“Say more right now”

“I used to see the ghost of a little girl in a Victorian nightgown”

“Let’s change the subject”

“This is a weird topic”

“None of us ever really know our fathers”

“We don’t have time to unpack all of that”

“STREET SMARTS!”

“Sit up straight! Be respectful!”

“So say a kidnapper grabs you and throws you in the trunk of their car”

“Brush your teeth! Now BOOM orange juice, that’s life”

“That’ll throw him off his rhythm”

“Weird, psych-out, backroom Chicago violence”

“As any Chicago cop will tell ya, a phonebook doesn’t leave bruises”

“Okay, when you get kidnapped- not if, when”

“If you get taken to a secondary location, your odds of coming back alive are slim to none”

“I thought I was gonna be murdered my entire childhood”

“What would Leonard Bernstein do”

“Give us some money! As a gift! We want a gift! But only if it’s money!”

“Now you have the audacity to ask me for MORE money?!”

“I gave you more money than the Civil War cost and you spent it already?!”

“She’s not gonna do anything else for you. It’s done.”

“I thought our transaction was over”

“Do my friends hate me or do I just need to go to sleep?

“College was like a four year game show”

“Well if it’s too big you can just wear it as a sleep shirt”

“These meaningless politeness rules”

“I like to throw in I’m kidding at the end of jokes now”

“See you at improv practice”

“Of all the sentences that I would be ashamed to hear read in court”

“I am damp all the time”

“I don’t think it’s anything serious”

“I’m gross now”

“Y’know, life?”

“Monkey monkey monkey man”

“I don’t know what my body is for, other than just taking my head from room to room”

“It’s tough to not get grumpy. It’s so tempting”

“I’m trying to stay nice though”

“Maybe they have a different definition of nice”

“If we must go on with salt alone, we will go on with salt alone”

“Famous people are weird as shit. They’re all weird. Your suspicions are correct”

“That must change you as a person”

“Everything was slower in the old days. Because they didn’t have enough to do so they had to slow things down”

“We gotta think of some weird, slow activities to fill the day”

“Everything is too fast now and totally unreasonable”

“Everything is run by robots, and we spend most of the day telling them that we’re not robots”

“Prove to me you’re not a robot. Look at these curvy letters!”

“How’d you like to be indoors and out of doors all at once?”

“May I introduce you to THE GAZEBO”

“It seems like everyone everywhere is super mad about everything all the time”

“There’s a horse loose in the hospital”

“What’d the horse do, what’d the horse do”

“We’re well past that”

“Okay okay okay okay okay okay”

“I have fired the horse catcher”

“How come you opened the door for the horse?”

“I used to pay less attention”

“I’m lazy by nature”

“And you can quote me on that”

“We bought a stroller for our dog”

“Just one more follow up question”

“What did they say in there, what did they do, what did they tell you”

“That’s the same joke twice”

“A charming anecdote that was fake and never happened”

“It’s a word you’re meant to mishear”

“The bread of bread is bread. The bread is good”

“God can’t hear you”

[nullifi-blog1]

antigravi‌:

it’s the slowest hour of his life,  by the way.  chuuya has calmed enough of his outward aggression to press his chin firmly into the cup of his hand,  elbow parked on the base of a dirty passenger window while dazai fumbles with the gears.  drive much?  haha.  he’s ‘bout to vocalize that,  too,  but he’s too mad to make a sound.  the light mock is committed to later,  if he remembers. 

they seem to drive endlessly and endlessly through the fog of nothing,  and it’s amazing how there ain’t one single thing on the other side with the gall to capture his attention.  tends to happen in farmland,  especially when it’s too dark to point out or make fun of the obscure road signs with the one boy irritatingly capable of making him laugh. 

eventually his eyes slip closed,  and they stay that way for an aptly-timed power nap.  he’s stirred back into consciousness around the hour mark when the sleep gets too deep,  too heavy to hold  &  too curious to dream  —  dropping his temple down in a crash against the bone of his wrist,  begging for an ouchie.

ouchie never comes.  instead,  interrogation.  indisputably ignored interrogation.

❝  hey.  just once,  once,  can you cut it the fuck out?  with the cryptic shit.  big mouth.  kiss my ass.  it’s almost time for what?  ❞  interrogation,  take two.  ❝  … are we slowin’ down or something?  ❞  and,  really,  it’s all an accident when he shoves sideways towards the center console,  more so when his eyes flicker towards the FUEL EMPTY light  —  which is thereafter spotted with a passion and furiously pointed at.

❝  are you stupid?  your big plan,  revealed!  running out of gas in the middle of nowhere!  good,  dazai.  stay here and get hit by a truck,  okay?  ❞  the dramatic exit would’ve had more flourish to it had he unlocked the door ahead of time,  instead uselessly wiggling the handle with more spite than bite until eventually he cheats,  kicking it open with the intent to unhinge. 

intent successful.  goodbye,  door!

Dazai doubts that anyone on earth really understands cars. They replaced horses, after all. It’s only logical that they’re equally uncontrollable.  

He busies himself with everything but road safety as he drives, reaching almost across the entire car and most of Chuuya’s lap to rifle through the CDs in the glove box, and switch them out about every 5 minutes or so. It’s the next best thing to a road-trip mix-tape, and an undesired view into lives short-lived.  He pauses again, both hands off the wheel, to pop CD number 8 out and stash it in his coat pocket for a rainy day.

It’s fortunate that Chuuya’s irritation obscures the sputtering death of the car’s engine, at least, for a short time.  Chuuya’s no idiot, and Dazai prepared for as much with a snarky response from the second he concocted his shitty plan.  But opportunity strikes, tragically, too late, because with every eruption of rage come an aftershock of retaliation.  That door flies of its hinges like it’d been waiting its life for the chance.  Dazai let’s out a whistle; bemused, impressed, or just a memory from ABBA’s Greatest Hits.  It’s too bad for the spectacle, that Chuuya chose to send the door to kingdom-come when the car’s gas was all but gone.  It lands a few dozen feet away.  Dazai watches it fall as the car lurches to a stop.

               “great plan, right?  Now we’re both stranded.”

He climbs out of the drivers seat like it’s 4 sizes too small and like he’s 4 times as old as he is. The hassle is exaggerated, maybe, so that he can complain about it later.  It’s a tilt of his head towards the bike; Chuuya’s bike also stashed by the side of the road with no driver to be seen. Dazai’s already poking at it, checking the gauge and tires.  

               “That’s lucky, huh?”

He stretches his arms above his head, then out wide, a big fuck you to anyone small enough to fit comfortably in a Smart Car, and gazes out at the deserted countryside lit only by a distant flashlight in the direction of the station.  He points it out, not with any indication but with a hand to his forehead like a diligent sailor spotting land.  

               “I thought they’d get farther.”

[nullifi-blog1]

antigravi‌:

THIS IS AT LEAST THE 6TH WORST DAY OF HIS LIFE.

for whatever reason,  in spite of this internal turmoil & that patented look of disgust creeping on his features,  chuuya holds the mr. moo bag steady for his partner to peruse at his horribly calm leisure  —  that is,  until he says the four naughtiest words in the japanese language,  effectively graying his hair and stopping his heart simultaneously. 

               ❝  it’s WHAT?  ❞

no,  he doesn’t reach for the singular snack offered in these trying times;  instead he targets the remainder of the pouch with a readied fist,  throwing some elbow grease into the punch that follows.  goodbye, pretz!  such a short life,  undeserved by most. 

fortunately for dazai’s plan,  chuuya stalks along behind him towards the source of the car alarm not unlike a toddler on the verge of a tantru—  ah,  there it is.  stalking turns to stomping.  

          ❝  hey,  listen!  this isn’t fucking funny!  tired?  i don’t care if you’re seconds from riding a wave of REM,  you fuck,  tell me where my bike is!  ❞   OBEDIENT CHUUYA,  incidentally breaking the handle of their new,  flamboyantly compact smart car that dazai has somehow acquired in five minutes or less.  the shock of the metal piece clambering between his feet is oddly enough to pacify a large portion of his fit,  chin darting downwards to hiss out the quickest,  most juvenile little whoops.

doors don’t need handles.  it’s whatever.  ❝  broke your stupid ass car.  ❞  and he kicks the bumper for good measure before planting his unhappy body deftly inside.  ❝  you owe me.  i hate you more today than i did yesterday.  y’mind filling me in on literally anything,  or are you going to drive us into a lake in complete silence?  ❞

Tragedy comes in many forms and Dazai has a policy of avoiding it at all costs. Unfortunately, his walking-curse of a partner seems to leak the stuff like a shitty gas-station fountain lid. And surely, it’s Chuuya’s doing that today is at least the 5th worst day of Dazai’s entire life. And with tragedy comes mourning. And Dazai has never been one to hold back.

               “Nooooooooooooo!”

Comes the horrified wail as his treasured Pretz go flying across the parking lot and into the street. So quick to come into his life and so quick to leave it. Dazai’s arm is outstretched, reaching as it goes, as it goes, and as it’s gone. Fleeting. He slowly lowers it into his pocket, reminded of just how MEANINGLESS this all is. The snack is run over; crushed into powder in an instant. A hint of comfort. He smiles, fondly. 

                                          Wouldn’t that be nice?

But duty calls, and dreams are for sleeping. Chuuya has so kindly reminded him that Dazai has a whole lot of the former and shit to show for the latter. So he strides ahead to the driver’s side.

It’s .05 seconds before Chuuya ruins their new ride. Unsurprising. Dazai laughs; melodic, relaxed; any urgency only underlying his same mocking attitude. It wasn’t the best choice of car, no leg room at all, and Dazai’s half certain that on extra kick has compacted it even more.

                “Don’t go taking souvenirs before you’ve seen the attraction.”

It takes him a solid two minutes to figure out how to start the damned thing, and another three to differentiate between drive, neutral, and reverse.  

It’s after about an hour of driving that Chuuya makes his request. Information. Dazai could easily share his plan. Chuuya is nothing if not trustworthy; PREDICTABLE. And predictably, Dazai ignores the request.

               “It’s so cramped in here!” He groans, conveniently shifting towards the center console, fortuitously obscuring the FUEL EMPTY light beside the odometer.

                 “The lake will have to wait. It’s almost time.”

[nullifi-blog1]

antigravi‌:

          ❝  I ASK YOU TO DO ONE THING.  ONE THING.  ❞

NAKAHARA CHUUYA — by textbook definition — by contractual obligation — at this precise moment in his ripe,  sixteen year old life  —   has utterly, inconsequentially, absolutely had it.  he has had it.  seems it didn’t matter how flourished his tale to their boss only hours earlier had been;  how his bike was never meant for two,  and how the extra weight on the caboose would only slow him down to a slug’s pace.  no,  it didn’t matter,  because that’d be too easy.

know what else would be too easy?  having gas.  having the amount of gas chuuya was positive he had up until the moment they took off,  which in its essence is just another vein waiting to burst on the tilt of his temple.  that being said?  the very last thing chuuya plans to do in this sullen gas station parking lot is give his partner the benefit of the doubt,  an homage to his usual no-nonsense stance on what can only be described as all the time nonsense.  so he stands stiffly,  fingers curled & gripped around the embarrassingly cheery plastic bag sporting only the happiest little cow mascot,  clearly inanimately mocking him from below.

❝  ——  i said wait.  i said wait for me while i pay for the  …  hey.  bitch.  is this why you asked for the pretz?  and the kitty magazine?  where’s my bike?  ❞    ———— @nullifi. ✦

Nakahara Chuuya is a fool;

A complete and undeniable buffoon for leaving his newest and only treasured possession in a situation worse than unattended.

Nakahara Chuuya has played into Dazai’s hands from the beginning. No matter how he complained to the boss, no matter what excuse or story, the outcome was the same. All it took was a simple, disinterested shrug.

                                                    We’ll get there much faster on Chuuya’s bike

Of course, a motive is nothing without something underlying it. Of course, a mission to the countryside—the veritable MIDDLE OF NOWHERE presents an opportunity. And Dazai, resourceful as ever, had a plan prepared.

First, operation LEECH, siphon enough gas as they drove so that a certain shorty would have to stop for a refill—easy enough with the fuel tank near the rear of the bike.

Second, operation humility. Rid yourself of all earthly possessions.

                                                        Or rid Chuuya of one in particular.

Fortunately, two kids on a nice bike draws enough attention. And fortunately, Dazai’s gas station sales pitch is as strong as ever.

             No it's not stolen

             Yeah ill take cash

             Go ahead and take it for a test drive—I’ll take your keys as collateral

And now that his unfortunate partner in crime has returned, operation crab cake can begin. First, he rummages through that precious mr. moo™-bag for his spoils (paying no mind to the white-knuckled bag holding the handles); meow monthly and a salty snack. Dazai is VERY preoccupied, with opening the package as slowly as possible.

               “Oh, that? It’s gone.”

He withdraws one of those tasty suckers from its glorious pouch, and holds it out to Chuuya.

               “ We can take my car. There’s much more legroom. ”

The traded keys, their target’s key; a seedy business official who tried to scam the even seedier port mafia.  He taps each button demonstratively, also because he isn’t too sure which car he traded for, until the blaring car alarm makes it obvious. Dazai starts towards their new car and crosses over to the driver's side with a theatrical yawn.

                 “ That’s all you need to know. I’m too tired to say more.”