inuko-tan

[inuko-tan]

I don't have the energy to make a fancy post.

I finally posted my BSD OC AU fic at a friend's insistence.

Ayo.

[inuko-tan]

Hey it’s me @ravenina14 I’m back with a new blog also just to make sure cause My memory is bad are you an 18+ adult (your age)?

Hiiii wb! Yeah, I'm 22 :3

[inuko-tan]

I mostly just have felt like writing gay fluffy OC x Canon stuff recently, but I have no idea if people like reading about others OCs enough for them to be worth posting hhhhh

[inuko-tan]

3 am list of fics in my WIP bin~

♡ Dazai rescues an abandoned kitten (character study, angst)

♡ ADA caring for a self-harming reader (character study, hurt/comfort collab with @/doppokunikidas)

♡ Akutagawa x OC goes on a date (self-indulgent fic for myself)

♡ kitsune!Dazai x Arahabaki (romance, crossover AU)

♡ Atsushi dealing with a PTSD episode (vent)

[inuko-tan]

I actually really want to write something for kitsune!Dazai but I don't really know what.

Though kitsune!Akutagawa would do something to my brain that I'm not ready to confront.

[inuko-tan]

This motherfucker relentlessly bullying Chūya, who's coping badly with becoming Arahabaki?? And then they fall in love?? Yes??

My friends reminded me Kamisama Kiss exists, and I'm not saying Soukoku AU, but I am saying there is an official kitsune!Dazai and also that AU would fit Soukoku.

[inuko-tan]

My friends reminded me Kamisama Kiss exists, and I'm not saying Soukoku AU, but I am saying there is an official kitsune!Dazai and also that AU would fit Soukoku.

[inuko-tan]

☙ The Apothecary ❧

Poe is in need of some questionable items, and makes a trip to a black market.

This is a gift for one of my best friends/beta reader/roleplay partner/that poor motherfucker who reads everything I write.

770 words

Content warning for discussions of poisoning and kidnapping. This fic features platonic OC and Canon interactions, so if you dislike reading about non-canon characters then feel free to skip.

The back alleys of Yokohama were a place drenched with the scent of danger, a busy nightlife of depravity and bloodshed. The high concentration of ability users and poverty alike, not that the two were particularly mutually exclusive to begin with, created an atmosphere of barely restrained desecration. Despite this lingering fog of uneasiness that would settle upon most others, Poe walked with a dignified purpose through the winding alleyways. His low heels clicked against the loose cobblestone pathways, generating an exceptionally soft and pleasant noise with each stride.

At the end of a long stretch of broken concrete, there sat a bundle of shops nested close together. There was graffiti and shattered glass around the area, many buildings had been hastily patched up where their windows had been broken in. All except for one- a fairly unassuming shop, unlabeled with merely an emblem of a snake adorning the sign posted outside the door.

As he approached the building, he noticed a young girl, with a flared out dress and an aristocratic hairdo, crouched low to the ground, balancing on the toes of her boots. She struck matches against the cracked sidewalk, letting them burn brightly for a few moments before tossing them aside, repeating the action like a mindless robot. Her eyes did not meet Poe's as he passed her.

As he pushed the heavy wooden door open, a delightful and intoxicating aroma of herbs and sweet oils flooded Poe's senses. The air inside the building felt heavy, syrupy like cough medication. A yawn desired to creep from his throat, his eyes threatening to close. He hadn't felt so relaxed in years, as if all of his accumulated adult stressors melted from his flesh.

This immediately put him on high alert.

Behind the counter was a youth, androgynous and pretty, with hair the color of moonlight upon snowdrifts. They turned to meet Poe, their movements lethargic and serpentine. It was truly inhuman, Poe felt in his bones that the adolescent held an ability.

"Welcome to my shop," their voice was slow and even, dangerously hypnotic, "What is it you seek? Do you seek to heal, or perhaps to seduce?"

"I've come to procure tranquilizers." Poe's voice was steady in turn. He straightened his posture, standing up at his full height. This seemed to interest the shopkeeper.

"My, and who told you that I supply such things?" Curiosity lilted their voice, their sleepy eyes gaining a bit of cold focus to them.

"A magpie," Poe responded, "Who collects treasure not only of the material kind."

This caught the youth's attention, a thin smile gracing their lips, "Of course, the magpie. You may call me Feng, and I can supply you with any poison you could possibly desire."

"A tranquilizer, as I said," Poe repeated, a hand reaching up to his shoulder to idly stroke Karl, who had begun to act flighty at the lack of attention he was being given, "I need one to incapacitate an ability user."

"What an ordinary request, I'll have it prepared with haste." Feng yawned into their hand. The way their eyes were cold and glossy as marbles felt unnatural, and Poe found himself wondering if these poisons were not their ability.

His eyes drifted over the rustic wooden shelves that held countless glass vials, some labeled and some not. Karl chattered soft noises of distress into his ear.

Feng returned with a small case, inconspicuous and plain. They offered it over the counter.

"It will induce fainting within thirty-four seconds, and maintain a state of unconsciousness for up to forty minutes. Paralysis will stay induced for two hours afterwards." Feng's voice was smooth as a bowl of pudding, their explanation was nearly enough to lure Poe into a trance, "And if you so desire, the price tag on such is thirty-thousand yen."

Money was of no such concern, and he easily handed over the bills. Feng thumbed through them, a hum on their lips as they counted. When they were satisfied they'd gotten their dues, they pushed the case closer to Poe.

"Thank you for your business," Feng's voice returned to a heavy, silky drawl, "And tell the magpie that I wish to see her again."

As Poe began to exit the building, the curious girl from before stormed past him, her hair smelling heavily of sulfur. As she approached the counter, a soft yet cheerful cry of "Yuri!" was drawn from Feng. Ah, so even this mysterious poison dealer was just a sweet teenager underneath. A small smile crossed Poe's lips as he took once again to the streets, satisfied with this encounter.

[inuko-tan]

It's my ♡ birthday ♡ and all I wanna do today is read Dostoevsky and think about boys

[inuko-tan]

☙ Specter ❧

A request from @ravenina14, thank you for your request!

Edgar Allen Poe / Akutagawa Ryūnosuke / H.P. Lovecraft (separately) x fem!Reader who can summon ghosts

189 words each / 567 words overall It was a coincidence they all ended up at 189 words wow

No content warnings! Just fluff!

And a bonus thanks to my friend who beta read these for me.

She was his muse, his vision of love, his pièce de résistance. She was a living horror novel, and she was everything he could ever dream of. There was no moment that she looked more beautiful than when the frosted winds whipped at her hair and her skin was alight with the ethereal glow of the hallowed.

She stole his breath with her grace, with her lips against his. Night after holy night, Poe sat awake by the warm glow of candlelight to compose sprawling romances in her saintly name. Obsidian ink stained his hands, and ruby lipstick stained his neck. She would sit curled in his lap, with all the grace and allure of a pitch black cat. His fingers tangled in her hair, her lips ghosted over his sharp jawline. She whispered confessions of love, he returned them with dark prose murmured under his breath.

The spirits danced around her like fanciful gale winds, frightening and with a radiating power. He revered his graveyard queen, and in his heart of hearts, he pleaded that he would be hers until he joined the ranks of her consecrated souls.

Two forces of destruction, twins in their fearsome presence upon the battlefield. One wielded the souls of the departed at the tips of her fingers, the other cloaked in a devouring beast. One to raise, and one to destroy.

Her heart was a brilliant white, blindingly radiant. Akutagawa feared it would swallow him whole. He'd lived his life wandering in the shadows, turned from salvation as if it were a swarm of locusts to devour what was left of his soul. It left him dazed that a girl who was so closely entwined with death could harbor such hope within herself.

Akutagawa was perched upon the edge of a rooftop, carelessly smearing splattered blood across his gaunt cheeks. His gaze drifted over the picturesque horizon of the city, his lifeless eyes not reflecting the twinkling lights that glittered across the skyline. The sun dipped into the ocean, dying it hues of red and orange. Her head rested upon his shoulder, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. In moments like these, he wondered if her commune with the supernatural meant she could save his damned soul from retribution after all.

She was a fascinating creature. A woman who could control ghosts at her own whim, blurring the lines between the otherworld and our own- That was something that certainly caught Lovecraft’s attention. He watched from afar, as if she were a deer that would bolt off into the trees and be lost to the fog if he dared step too close. He met her in battle, hypnotized by the hazy forms that surrounded her like loyal knights. His head hung limply to one side, languidly tracing each movement she made.

Lovecraft sat upon a lavish couch, the cushions plump to bursting with down and crushed velvet. He did not stray from a heated staring contest with the wall. He did not flinch when Twain slapped his shoulder and jeered at him for the way he was mesmerized by the woman with the ghosts.

“Are you in love with her, you big oaf?” He belted out with a chuckle, expression full of delight.

“Love? Is that what that feeling is?” Lovecraft’s head tilted backwards, inhuman and obscene, as he contemplated his thoughts. “Yes, I suppose that is what it is.”

[inuko-tan]

Are you an 18+ adult ? Just checking

Also do you write for BSD Poe, Lovecraft or Mori?

Yep, I turn 22 tomorrow! I've written for Mori a few couple times in the past

[inuko-tan]

☙ Requests Open ❧

I finally got out of tumblr jail, it's worth remaking this post now!

Before you request:

I only write for Bungō Stray Dogs. I haven't had the time to pick up most of the light novels, so at the moment I am only confidently up to date with the mainline manga.

I will write character x character, whether it's a popular ship, rarepair, or crack! I will not write ships involving minor x adult, and I will not write 18+ content for underage ships.

I will write canon x reader, but only for 18+ characters. I can do fem, masc, or gn! Just let me know which your preference is!

I will write various kinds of dark or heavy content! I am fine with, and prefer, writing serious subjects (trauma recovery, self-harm, mental illness, etc). However, it is up to my discretion what I write, and I reserve the right to refuse any subject I feel I cannot write in a respectful manner!

I'm only taking SFW requests at this time. I'm scared of being put back in tumblr jail...

I don't tend to be too picky on what requests I choose to write, with the exception of requests involving the Akutagawa siblings. I'm very selective on what I choose to write for them, my apologies!

I'm an adult with a full-time job, so my apologies if it takes a while to get to a request!

[inuko-tan]

☙ My Boy ❧

...I have gender issues.

Akutagawa Ryūnosuke x transmasc!Reader (written as romantic, can be read as platonic)

508 words

No content warnings today! It's all fluff from here on out, boys! This is very rare from me...

Akutagawa Ryūnosuke was not an easy man to understand. The frozen face he wore as an adolescent was alarming to others, and as an adult he had only barely begun to understand how to outwardly express any emotions aside from rage and disgust. He had no filter for his bitter thoughts, yet if he could feel pleasure, he seemed to hold it close to his chest.

Those who'd heard an inkling of a rumor that he kept a lover often whispered sympathies for such a person, how cold and tragic it must be to handle such a volatile emotional cocktail such as Akutagawa. If such petty chirping bothered him more than most things did, he showed no particular hatred for it. But a rumor is all it would be- Akutagawa knew all too well the dangers of affections. All it would take was one unlucky night, one spiteful survivor, one overly bold attack dog, for the sky to collapse and the sun to never rise again. He could never confirm his capacity to love, if he wanted to feel assured that tomorrow would not be brought in with unwanted blood spilled across his hands.

Akutagawa's slender fingers curled around the cold brass of his apartment's door handle, pressing his meager weight against it as he shoved it open with a bit more force than necessary, as he often did. His apartment was already occupied, the cozy and oddly ill-fitting tartan sofa in the center of his living room was taken by a figure curled up neatly into a ball upon it. Without ceremony, Akutagawa pressed his toe up against the heel of his dusty shoes, stepping out of them easily. His coat was thrown over the nearest piece of furniture, his hands messing with quickly loosening his jabot as he approached the figure curled upon his couch.

As he drew closer, he caught the sparkle of tears brushed away with flushed palms. Eyes rimmed with red widened as Akutagawa leaned against the back of the sofa, humming as he unbuttoned his sweat-soaked blouse.

"Why are you crying." He lacked tact, he always did. His voice always had the distinct cut of a knife, but malice did not permeate his words. He was simply blunt to a fault, a creature without manners.

"You're home way too early."

"You're dodging the question."

Those sore, tired eyes shot a look of playful hatred towards the slender man as he shrugged off his clothing, a soft hum in his throat, "Are you going to tell me the issue or not? I don't have all night."

"Is that all?"

"I'm trans, Ryū," the confession came out in a strained whimper, pitiful and tiny, "I'm not a girl."

"What do you mean that's all! Aren't you disgusted? Are you mad at me?"

Akutagawa’s head cocked to the side in the manner of a confused dog, though his face betrayed no emotion. He shrugged loosely as he turned to tug on a clean shirt with a nonchalance, "Why would I be mad at my boy?"

[inuko-tan]

☙ And I'll Hold My Breath ❧

Gin has a night terror, Akutagawa helps her through it.

A vent fic written in the early morning to process a sudden PTSD episode.

1485 words

Content warnings for graphic descriptions of a panic attack and self-harm.

I am aware some people ship Akutagawacest so... to clarify, this is not a shipfic. Just Akutagawa being a doting older brother.

Every night is drawn out, strung out, endless, suffocating. The air is never silent, it is tense with terrors unremembered and screams that taste of blood and filth, it crushes the esophagus and pierces the lungs. Chipped nails dug into bruised flesh, fingers trembling with an aimless rage. Lips wet with spit and tears parted in an unearthly wail, an indignant howl at the moon that reflected no light back upon the broken.

Akutagawa Gin was only fifteen.

She lay alone in her bed, her midnight hair feathered out like a halo upon her pillows. Her bedding had been thrown to the floor in a mindless fit, her spine twisting as she tore at her own throat and face. Gin was not awake, but neither could it be said that she was asleep. Trapped in the in-between, aware of her own caustic memories that burned at the inside of her skull, and yet pitifully unable to save herself.

Through some thought she would harbor later on when she was somewhat more conscious, she would ponder to herself where all this pain came from. She could not remember the beginning of her agony, she did not recall the end of her happiness. Scarlet pooled under her nails, she continued to fill the dark room with an endless screech.

Gin hated the dark. For most children her age, such a fear would be unfounded, petty, shameful. Gin knew what lay in the dark. Men with ill intentions, and abandoned dogs that would sink into living flesh simply for the taste of fresh meat- frankly, the two were barely distinguishable from one another, each their own kind of undomesticated animal committing sins for survival. The darkness held dangers that a child could not hope to fend off on their own. In the darkness, she could hear the screams of those long dead and could smell the gunpowder that permeated her lungs like a bloodline curse.

Hot tears stained her cheeks, a build-up of watery mucus choked her breathing until she had no choice but to roll onto her side. Leaning over the side of her bed, Gin’s body was wracked with convulsions and emptied itself onto the floor. Her fragile frame trembled and shook, coiling into herself as she felt a thick bile burn at her throat and splash onto the hardwood floor.

This was enough to tip her over into some state that could be compared to “awakeness”. Gin stumbled to her feet, swaying with all the anxious unsteadiness of a small deer. Her palm pressed into the cold wall, bracing herself against it as she dragged her body to the bathroom she shared with her elder brother. Heavy arms struggled to properly locate the light switch, a few moments of desperately slapping the wall was needed before the light blinded her sore eyes.

Gin met herself in the mirror. Her eyes were dark and reflected no light, glossy with tears. Vomit and saliva trailed down her chin, staining the heavy flannel shirt buttoned up to her sternum. Her hands fumbled as she stripped off her clothing, regret filling her throat as she glared at her spindly body. She abhorred such a reflection. If her body had not felt full of lead, she feared she may have smashed the mirror in a rage.

Her hand darted out suddenly, grasping a razor that sat on the rim of the sink. Her eyes held no focus as she cracked the flimsy plastic against the ceramic, fingertips splitting open as she pried the blades from it. Crimson began to bead up and pour down, pooling in her palm. Her chest was racked with a barking cough as she raised her arm, her translucent skin mottled with purple scars and weeping sores. The cool metal parted flesh so easily, splitting apart like a blooming rose and pouring out her boiling pain. A soft sigh of relief left her lips, the tension bleeding from her aching body.

Dopamine was an addiction. Her flesh broke apart and her mind slipped from itself, marble tiles painted scarlet. A warm nothingness flooded her tiny body, a blanket of depravity to soothe her aches. Gin was unaware of the fresh tears rolling down her jawline, plastering her hair to her cheeks. She was unaware of the footsteps racing down the hallway.

“Gin-”

Her head snapped upright, eyes blown open as she was rocked back into attentiveness. Her brother stood in the doorway, disheveled from a long night of running useless errands for his mentor. His eyes flitted up and down her shaking form, and she could have sworn she saw embers of agony in his own lifeless eyes as he drank in the sight of her weeping wrist. With no words, he slapped the small, bloodied metal from her grasp and gripped her upper arm.

“Ryū- Please stop, that hurts-” Gin gasped out finally, her voice frail as lace. She was met only with a rough grunt, dragged across the cold bathroom. The sound of rushing water hit her ears like knives on a chalkboard, and she couldn’t help but wince.

“Get in.” Ryūnosuke was rarely in the habit of asking things of others, and Gin was aware she had no choice. As his back turned, she tore off her underwear and curled into the scalding hot water. Her knees drew up against her hollow chest, appreciating the comforting burn of the bath. Her brother returned with a cloth, kneeling beside the tub.

Frozen fingertips pressed underneath Gin’s jaw, tilting her gaze towards him. Ryūnosuke held the cloth beneath the gushing water, wiping away the mess from his sister’s face with a tenderness reserved for no other creature. Her whimpers were met with a rasping breath, a death rattle that soothed her frantic thoughts.

Ryūnosuke’s hand drew back as Gin was cleaned to his satisfaction. For a moment, there was no exchange of words, only the rushing water and ambient cry of the city’s nightlife. Gin did not flinch as blood seeped into the water, swirling around her in a grotesque painting of regret. Her eyes fluttered shut as her brother’s fingers combed through her wet hair, tucking the loose strands behind her ear. The moment was savored like a piece of rich chocolate, melting on her tongue and covering the taste of her earlier torment.

“Why.”

Gin shrugged loosely, sinking deeper into the water, “I remembered again.”

“I’ll ask Dazai to stop having me out so late-” Ryūnosuke nearly lurched forward, unable to cover up his concern and suffocate it with his sadism. Gin shook her head fervently, feeling heat creep up her cheeks.

“No, it wouldn’t be good to upset him even more.” She muttered softly, glossy eyes tracing the stains seeping through the bath. She swallowed down an itch in her throat. “I’m sorry that I keep-”

She was cut off with a snarl, Ryūnosuke tugged on her ear, eliciting a puppy-like yelp of surprise, “Gin. You know I hate when you say that.”

“Ryū, what did we do to deserve that?” She pulled herself out of his grasp, her head hung with shame. Her complexion was flushed with a fever and her eyes burned, raw with salt and sore from all the tears already shed.

“Nothing, Gin,” his voice was firm, but her sorrow softened his words. A corpse would feel pleasantly warm compared to his frigid skin, but the way he cupped her cheek was welcomed. She sat, unmoving, paralyzed with exhaustion. She licked her pale lips, and she realized she had begun to tremble.

“When will the pain stop?”

“You know that I don’t know the answer."

His fingers wrapped around her wrist, dragging her hand away from her body before she could tear her nails through her knees. Gin let out a weak breath, a barely audible whimper. Her vision was dizzy, her head felt so light that she could almost believe it would float off into the atmosphere. Ryūnosuke’s voice was once again soft as he brushed her bangs away from her forehead, “Let’s go to bed, little sister.”

His cold lips pressed to her forehead as he lifted her shaking body from the water. If he cared that his clothing had gotten drenched, he was keen on keeping that to himself. The pain that had taken so long to present itself finally radiated through Gin’s torn arm, the loss of blood leaving her feeling ill to her stomach. She let her eyes flutter closed as her temple pressed to her brother’s shoulder, a dreamless nothing to soothe her.

The sun had only just begun to rise when Gin next awoke, the lemonade light of the sky painting her cheeks shades of pink. Her fingertips traced over her body, running over rough gauze wrapped around her throat and forearm. She pushed herself upright, blinking the sleep from her tired eyes.

A chocolate bar sat on her bedside table.

[inuko-tan]

Hi! You can call me either by Inuko-tan or D-chan, I pay taxes and can legally drink alcohol. Bungo Stray Dogs is my comfort media, so I tend to consume and create a ton of content for it!

My OC and love of my life is Inuko Haato. I tend to enjoy writing lots of drabbles involving her, especially fics with my friends' OCs or shipping her with Akutagawa. Her design and reference sheet was done by @doppokunikidas

I tend to write a lot of emotionally cathartic darkfics- or, alternatively, really tall glasses of lemonade. I love discussing headcanons and fic ideas, so please please feel free to ramble to me about yours!