#I just like angst man

[synodicsoma]

[triona-tribblescore]

TW// Abuse implication

Thinking about possible Vox and Angel's interactions and how they'd go down. Theres such a unique mix of hatred to each other and common ground with their different experiences with Valentino, has me thinking.

Also just want to clarify I love Vox's character a LOT but ofc obv don't sympathise with him or think he is any way shape or form a decent individual, cant with stupid toxic dumbass x

AND IF YOU SEE ANY MISTAKES OR TYPOS NO YOU DONT- (i was so tired when drawing it forgive me TwT)

[hyenaa-euphoria]

hope 1/???

more angst!! i am actually building an au around this comic but I’ve never done aus before so like this is new to me!!!

[hinamie]

all i have left

[o-sunny-day]

“Don’t… don’t tell him you think dingbat fonts are cool.”

AUGH @forgettable-au fanart :3 been on another roll with it (in agony constantly)

theres some untranslated wingdings cause i love translating it myself, hope others do too :D

not confident on how “canon” or in-character this is but- I HAD FUN this AU has really got me in the rendering spirit, I really enjoy taking inspiration but also adding mu own silly twists on it and AAA everything looks even more tasty now

I view this as them in New Home after getting something to eat (after the last page update) and heading back the same way since Alphys’ place is on the way to The Lab. The font convo comes back up again and then yeah

Alsoooo if youre interested in behind the scenes stuff heres the speedpaint :3

also i never poster about this- but i had another forgettable dream. it didn’t make any godamn sense. I woke up and drew the only scene I could remember:

Wingdings and Sans had a fight and ig wingdings killed Sans 😭😭😭 in a stairwell for some reason

and current Sans, Papyrus brother Sans, is like watching all of this and was brought here by Lancer like a Ghost Of Christmas Past type situation. Idk why. I choose not to attempt to make sense of this anymore. But i swear this is an actual dream i had 😭

[benevolenterrancy]

Scholarly peak is catching up on recent literature

[timethehobo]

Once again thinking about Emmy during those weeks when Rook was gone. The angst potential. 👌

[motorghost]

anyone else get occasionally assaulted by thoughts of holmes and/or watson dying in sussex? like, maybe one day, when they are both very old, holmes wakes up to watson in his arms and he knows right away. he genuinely believed he would be the first to go. he steps downstairs and lights up a pipe. he stands there for a long time. he writes a few letters and sends them out. he walks around the house, observing everything. then he goes outside to sit near the bees. he listens to their soft humming and passes away in the sunshine.

or, one day, when they are both very old, watson comes back from the village to see holmes asleep in his chair. he knows right away. he genuinely believed he would be the first to go. he sobs and sobs and sobs. he writes letters by candlelight. then he writes more. he writes until he has nothing left to say. then he goes out and sits by the bees, who are all silent. he passes away under the moon.

[starry-bi-sky]

mmmmmm read a disciple shen yuan/shizun luo binghe fanfic about two days ago where the first chapter was the Immortal Conference arc, and SQQ was the one who had to be pushed into the abyss (he was still the villain) except Luo Binghe was refusing and was like, lowkey losing his mind about SQQ being so close to the edge. SQQ ended up having to be the one to fall in himself because of the system's punishment system. The rest of the fic is leading up to that moment. But like, MMM i've been obsessively thinking about that first chapter for DAYS ever since.

now i've been in svsss for a grand total of *checks watch* a week. but god obsessed with that. I want to write/read a fic where disciple SQQ goes a little nuts down there. Like keep all of the things that make SQQ, SQQ, but just. Throw in a little bit more trauma in there. A little bit of a mental break. Let him go a little nuts as a treat. Just a tad unhinged. I wanna see him go, just a little, "god fuck it, i've tried so hard to change this shitty story's outcome and it feels like everything i've done has been for nothing. I'm going to die in this world no matter what I do, I've been doomed from the start, so might as well die the way I want to." and he just, breaks a little! Under all the stress.

He still retains the traits that makes shen yuan, shen yuan, like his overwhelming kindness. But he's just! yk. A little less patient. Paranoid. Jumpy. Colder. A little more aloof and closed off. A little more Shen Jiu. He's no asshole child abuser, but he was a Number One Hater in his past life and he's leaning into that old habit a little more now.

(On a totally coincidental not-at-all related note, there's not enough SJ-and-SY-are-the-same-people fics out there that i've found. This is totally unrelated...)

The Endless Abyss turns the mind into an over-sharpened blade, and SQQ is both fascinated and perhaps a little excited to explore a place that doesn't have a lot of info on it in the mortal realm, but still terrified out of his mind. And he's no Luo Binghe, he doesn't have the sheer brute strength and power to just bulldoze his way through, so he has to be a lot more sneaky and cunning if he wants to survive.

The fic itself role-swapped LBH and SQQ so that SQQ was the half-demon (which lowkey fucks) and LBH the human, but I'm equally-if-not-more obsessed with the idea that LBH remains the half-heavenly demon and SQQ the human. If only because I keep thinking about SQQ befriending some demons (particularly and specifically a group of succubi) and they grow very attached to this Human Cultivator so through magic plot stuff they create some kind of seal/illusion/talisman that makes SQQ appear as a demon because a human cultivator in the endless abyss may as well be the equivalent of putting a giant neon target on your back.

And iirc Shen Jiu was taught demonic cultivation by that one guy(?? i've only been here a week so im not caught up in ALL of the lore yet) so that could totally happen here.

(On the other end of the realms, poor Shizun Luo Binghe is just. losing his fucking mind over losing his most precious and beloved disciple. About .5 seconds from burning down the peaks himself. somebody sedate him.)

The Endless Abyss sucks and SQQ is having a really terrible time and can feel himself going lowkey mad, but also holy shit look at all this WORLD-BUILDING. look at all this flora and fauna, and oh if he had the equipment for it he'd be writing all of this down. ALL OF IT. He was kinda-sorta-already planning on never leaving the Abyss as some sort of fucked up self-exile and self-preservation thing, but now he might? actually just?? never leave if he can help it, like he lowkey likes it down here.

anyways the next time anyone ever sees SQQ again he's got hair so long its almost touching the ground and he's either in rags and half-feral or he's been completely dolled up by his adoptive succubi sisters and still about three seconds from biting anyone who tries to touch him. (he's also lowkey trying to book it back down to the abyss even if he has desperately missed all of his friends and shizun)

[yourlocalabomination]

I am not immune to funny crackships.

+ Bonus

[itslilacokay]

AVA 11 SPOILERS!!!

hiii heres a screenshot redraw of agent angst (got lazy on the chair a bit hehe

+closer look at orig image

this is the ONLY TIME we see agent go through something so far i think. so obviously i took this chance to draw something like cmon now the material is RIGHT THERE

[flicklikesstuff]

“Maybe the flash was to blame. Or maybe it’s his shrunken state that gave the looming witch the illusion of being exactly 10 feet tall.

Whatever it was, it had flicked something within. Suddenly, he was no longer a lizard. Nor a great, powerful wizard. Not even “Rick Shades.”

He was a little Gourami.

Only 12 years old. Eyes wide and unobscured. Skin smooth from the lack of scars. But most of all, untainted by the horrors.

And unlike that little Gourami, he was entirely aware of what’s coming for them. He could warn the 12 year old. Maybe save them even. Tell her that continuing this approach is a bad, BAD, VERY TERRIBLY BAD IDEA!!

…

But he couldn’t.”

My inspiration pieces: :)

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 231

doomed timeline

u ever think about how literally every single one of the thousands of aradias that traveled back to fight in the trolls' boss battle was from a doomed timeline where she had to a) watch all her friends die b) process that she was also doomed and c) then power through all that to do a bunch of time travel detective work so that she could advise the alpha iterations of her friends on how to avoid splitting into that doomed timeline in the first place? before traveling to a battle she knew she wouldn't make it out of?

yeah man

[necrotic-nephilim]

au - tim sneaking out of jason's room one night at the manor and accidentally locking eyes with dick who is sneaking out of bruce's room at the exact same time, breakfast is very awkward the next morning

(i did think of having it be jason instead of tim but honestly jason has 0 shame and even less issue outing himself if it means fucking with bruce and, to a lesser extent, dick)

i'm cackling I love these types of things so much. they're so silly. sometimes we deserve mindless crack for these ships. have a *very* low effort ficlet bc this just makes me snort, enjoy <3

Dick closed Bruce's door as quietly as he could. Usually, he didn't have to sneak around when he slept with Bruce. But the temporary room Bruce had given Jason in the manor was just down the hall, and Dick didn't feel like looking Jason in the eye if he walked out of Bruce's bedroom in the morning at the wrong time.

Just because he was pretty sure Jason knew, didn't mean he needed confirmation and confrontation.

Dick had almost caved to staying in bed with Bruce when Bruce tried to pull him back down, but he kept some level of wits about him, prying Bruce's arm off of him and giving him a final kiss on the cheek before heading for the door.

The one thing Dick did allow himself, though, was wearing one of Bruce's shirts instead of his own. It was a size too large on him but smelled safe and comforting. Dick breathed a quiet sigh of relief when the door latched silently. He let go of the handle, turning around to creep off to his own bedroom in another wing.

And found himself staring at another figure.

With all of the lights off and only faint moonlight streaming through the windows, Dick couldn't tell who it was, at first. His reaction was embarrassing no matter who it was, jumping nearly a foot backward and clutching a hand over his chest.

He was a goddamn vigilante. This was just embarrassing.

The other person wasn't nearly as shocked as Dick, but they stood perfectly still, staring with wide eyes that faintly reflected what little light illuminated their face. Dick squinted, leaning forward to see who it was.

"Tim?" Dick hissed, trying to keep his voice to a whisper. Bruce had fallen asleep and if Dick woke him up now, he was never going to get the stubborn bastard back to bed.

Tim, still looking like a deer in headlights, just blinked at Dick.

"What are you doing up this late?" Dick asked. They'd all agreed to take tonight's patrol off, letting Babs, Helena, Dinah, and Zinda handle it in exchange for tackling the massive human trafficking ring in the morning with fresh eyes and cleared heads. The job was the only thing that had gotten Jason to agree to work with them in the first place. Bruce barely managed to strong-arm Jason into sleeping in the manor, with a decent amount of guilting from Alfred.

Jason, who was in the room only a few feet away from Dick. The room that Tim's hand was resting on the doorknob of.

"That's Jason's room," Dick said slowly.

Tim just nodded. "I know." He wasn't whispering like Dick was, but his tone remained impossible to read.

He just saw Dick walk out of Bruce's room. Had he put it together? It was Tim, after all. if he hadn't yet, Dick assumed he only had a couple minutes before it dawned on Tim.

"What were you doing in Jason's room?" Dick frowned. If he focused on Tim, it could keep the focus off of him for as long as possible. Dick tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating.

Tim's expression was hard to make out in the dark. "We were talking about the case." Still, his tone remained entirely neutral.

Too neutral, for Tim.

"At two am?"

"Well, what were you doing?" Tim huffed slightly when he said it, folding his arms over his chest.

He was shirtless, Dick just realized.

Shirtless and coming out of Jason's room.

"I was-" Dick stumbled over his words, choking as he tried to come up with an alibi. "We were talking about the-"

"I already used that excuse, pick your own," Tim deadpanned. Dick was pretty sure he also rolled his eyes. "I've known about you and Bruce for years, you know. You don't have to pretend."

The noise that came out of Dick's throat was almost as mortifying as the realization that not only did Jason likely know, but so did Tim.

"It... okay it has not been years," Dick's face was hot and he was glad it was too dark for Tim to see his blush. "I mean- it's been a while but not years-"

"Whatever you say." Tim shrugged, sounding unconvinced. "There have been feelings between you two for years, close enough for me."

If Dick died, right here, in this hallway in front of Bruce's door, he hoped the cause of death would be put down as homicide instead of natural causes. Because every word from Tim's mouth made another piece of Dick die inside, just a little.

"It's none of your business either way." Dick tried to stand up straight to sound more in control of the situation, clearing his throat.

"Trust me, I don't want it to be my business."

Dick would've laughed, if this was happening to anyone but him.

"What about... you and Jason?" Dick asked carefully.

Tim shifted on his feet. "What about it? I told you, we were talking about the case."

"Right." It was Dick's turn to roll his eyes. "In his bedroom, at two am, without your shirt?"

Tim stared at Dick for a long, torturous moment. A moment that made Dick agree with Tim, about not wanting to know any sordid details.

"I'm going to bed," Tim said suddenly, turning away from Dick. "Goodnight."

Dick had a thousand more questions he wanted to ask. How Tim and Jason even got together, when it happened. Last Dick knew, they could barely stand to be in the same room.

But Tim was walking away at an alarmingly brisk pace and Dick just sighed. He was too tired and mortified about his own secrets to chase Tim down for an impromptu interrogation that would just end up embarrassing them both more.

Maybe it was best for Dick's sanity if he didn't know the specifics.

Dick didn't consider how awkward it would be until he was standing in the kitchen, staring at Jason bent over a cup of coffee.

Did Jason know Dick knew? It didn't seem like he did, but he had always had a good poker face.

When Tim ambled into the kitchen and grabbed overnight oats from the fridge, he didn't even look at Dick. He seemed to be pointedly avoiding it, sitting as far away from Dick as he could at the oversized dining room table.

All while Dick couldn't seem to stop staring.

"Your cereal is going to get soggy," Jason muttered, and it took Dick a moment to realize Jason was talking to him. "At least eat it before trying to explode my head with your mind, or whatever your staring problem is."

"I'm not-" Dick stuttered. he shut himself up with a mouthful of cereal when Cass gave him an odd look.

Would she be able to figure it out just from his body language?

Dick had never fully understood the lengths her ability to read people could go. he looked away from her and stared at a random spot on the table, trying to eat at a normal pace.

Bruce was the last to wander into the kitchen. He squeezed Dick's shoulder as he walked by, making Dick jump. It was an innocent enough touch that no one would question, but all Dick could think about was the brief look from Tim before he quickly averted his eyes again.

The silence around the table was going to eat Dick alive. He started eating cereal faster.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Jason broke the tension, throwing his head back and slamming an empty mug down onto the table. "Everyone knows you two are fucking, alright?" He gestured between Dick and Bruce. "Stop being so goddamn weird about it, you're acting like there's a bomb in the room."

Bruce choked on his coffee. "Jason." He tried to sound reprimanding, but his voice was a few octaves too high.

Dick threw his hands in the air. "I knew you knew about that, but I didn't know about you and Tim until last night so excuse me for feeling a little awkward."

"You didn't know about what?" Bruce nearly yelled, spinning around to face Jason.

"Damnit, Dick!" Tim groaned, putting his head in his hands.

Jason just scoffed, pointing a fork at Bruce. "Oh don't even give me that self-righteous bullshit-"

Their argument went back and forth while Tim just rubbed his temples, muttering to himself and glaring at Dick.

Worst of all, Dick was pretty sure Cass was giggling next to him under her covered mouth.

Dick just sighed and ducked his head, dutifully waiting for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

So much for his breakfast.

[yayll]

~ a little something about you and Dazai trying to love each other a little bit less ~

It's Sakura season, and it's not being shared with someone you love. That's fine, you think to yourself as you sit on the bench, the sunset overlooks the port and you have the park to yourself. The fragile petals fall all around you, covering you in flakes of pink, like snow that won't melt. Though they will shrivel up, you think that might be worse than the instant loss of a melting snowflake. The thing about snowflakes is they melt upon warm contact but these petals won't melt at the touch of cold nor warmth, they'll lie there until their beauty fades along with what's left of their fleeting life. You stare at one in particular as it lands into your coffee cup, floating at the top instead of sinking.

That's what it was like to be in love with Osamu Dazai, and what it was like to sense his dreadful presence approaching you like the wind billows on a starless night. You ignore him, staring down at your coffee cup like it's going to save you, knowing it won't. In your peripheral vision, he looks spectral, and you catch a wave trying to get you to look up along with a familiar voice that reeks of faux friendliness.

"Are you always this avoidant when people try to greet you?"

You bite the soft flesh inside of your cheek, gripping your coffee just a bit tighter, unresponsive.

He continues, hands tucked into his coat and a smirk on his face.

"The blooms are nice today, eh? At their peak. Thought I'd stop by to enjoy them but it seems someone's already taken my favorite bench. At my favorite spot. What a shame."

After another long pause, his voice loses the playful edge and he says your name in a firm tone. This causes you to finally snap to attention, eyes wide and as fragile as those petals that shower you both. He smiles once more, but it's uglier this time, mocking. You mirror him by calling out to him right back, a hint of bitterness in your voice.

"Dazai."

He steps closer, towering over you. He always thought you looked best when you were looking up at him. It would almost sting that you're using his last name if it weren't for the fact that it sounded so good coming out of your mouth. He leans down to you just a tad bit.

"Sooo flustered..."

"I'm not flustered."

It's a joy to know he can still make you feel something, you were always wearing your heart on your sleeve, and your emotions on your precious little face. He sighs dramatically, waving his arms around.

"Mhm, sure you're not. You're lying... And it's honestly boring me to death! And I love death!"

You look away towards the port and roll your eyes, a quiet scoff escaping you along with it.

"Oh, so we're doing this."

It's almost like they're flirting, he thinks. Just like old times, maybe. It sends a thrill down his spine.

"Yes. We are."

You smile faintly, but it disappears just as fast as it materialized.

"I'll head out now and leave you to your favorite bench at your favorite spot, then."

He doesn't even allow you the chance to stand up before he shifts to stand fully in your way, imposing himself with an unreadable expression on his face that's hiding his real thoughts.

"Stay here a minute, I'd like to ask you a tiny little thing."

You tilt your head, the way you used to every time he perplexed you with some nonsense he'd spew out either to toy with you or when he'd say those three poisonous words you could never handle hearing from him.

"Dazai, I don't know if that's wise..."

He knew what you meant by that, because if you stayed like all the other times, you'd never leave. He sees the effect he has on you and he uses that to his advantage. His voice softens, something you aren't used to anymore.

"... But will you do it anyway? Stay here?"

You bite the corner of your lip and sigh... Of course you do.

"I guess... I will."

His eyes narrow and he fights back a smile at the thought of being able to stump you like this.

He's not sure where he's going with this but he's sure he'll think of something to say, he just wants to keep talking to you a little longer. He invades your personal space, and almost reaches out to place a hand on your face but decides not to, opting to keep the unbalanced dynamic going. You breathe out, unable to handle the silence, your cheeks already turning pink.

"Seems to me like you're stalling."

He observes you knowing how desperate you are to hear what he has to say, enjoying the moment of simply holding your gaze when he really should think of what the hell to ask you. He becomes dangerously close, his voice taking on a velvety approach with that lazy smile you love so much.

"Me? I'm doing nothing of the sort."

You look down at your shoes shamefully, something that would have made you so giddy to hear before now just feels like a slap to the face. Your eyes flicker to the way his hands now rest at his sides and it makes you wish they were wrapped around your neck instead. It all causes you to mumble without thinking.

"You always want to stop me from something... You keep me frozen in time."

He tilts his head, finally reaching out to take your hand but when you don't meet him halfway he settles for hooking his pinky around yours instead. He won't move it until you do first.

"Is that so bad? To be frozen by me?"

You're losing this battle, you know that because you can feel your heartbeat in your pinky when he tightens it just a little but it's enough to feel him invade you even further. He feels it too.

"I wish I thought it were..." You say, lamely.

"Why don't you, then?"

He asks quickly, amused. He squeezes your pinky harder and it's starting to cut your circulation off. You look back up with that ridiculously innocent face that always made him want to jump into the river, you didn't even know how precious you looked that way.

"You know why, Osamu."

Oh it's like a shot to the heart when you switch to his first name. How dare you. He wishes you'd say it under different circumstances because he doesn't like this one. That, plus the urge to mock you for your emotions always being so damn sincere causes his gaze to shift. It's less playful now as he stares into your eyes, his voice going low.

"... I don't think I do."

You bite the inside of your cheek again and taste blood from how hard you're holding back the urge to just. Go. But you can't and you won't. It's the same doomed story over and over again.

You murmur with pathetic longing.

"No, you never seem to."

He's figured out his question, and he figures why he's holding your pinky like he's a tourniquet and you're bleeding out, but he doesn't intend on saving you, he's not that kind of guy.

It's dark now, and the Sakura petals are slowing down their fall to death, almost afraid to interrupt the tension going on here. He nods towards you, amused.

"Please, enlighten me."

You look away, a sad smile on your face.

"I don't know if I'm strong enough for that tonight."

He knows that, and you're stupid if you don't think he knows every single little thing about you. This is all just a review. This is all just his way of making sure you haven't moved on this time for sure.

"Aww, look at you, unable to resist me.~"

He mocks you, yet moves his over hand to the small of your back to really make sure you stay here with him. You instantly regret letting your heart speak for you when you said you'd stay earlier. You frown, eyes glistening as the moon makes its presence known. The moon doesn't care to interrupt you two, but somehow it feels like it's on Dazai's side more than anything.

You shake your head, sighing.

"You're being mean. You should be home tonight and so should I."

He keeps staring into you, thinking how beautiful you look when you become so vulnerable around him. He finally releases your pinky, unable to take it anymore, and cups the side of your face instead while the other one still stays on your back. He shrugs and sighs as well, though it sounds more like an imitation of one.

"Perhaps I should be home. But I don't feel like it. Neither do I feel like letting you scurry away."

This causes you to purse your lips and knit your brows together, your patience running out from his games. He should have taken you out back and put you out of your misery ages ago, it's not too late, you think.

"Then what do you propose we do?"

"Hmm... Will you let me kiss you?" He asks as if this were the first time he's ever done it. As if he were concluding a successful first date. Your lip quivers, and he can feel you tremble.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

When you don't reply, he moves his face until his cheek is against yours and whispers into your ear.

"Are you going to say anything, silly? Or can I take this as a yes?"

You finally breathe out, the shock somewhat subsiding. You don't think twice, you're just as pathetic as you've always been. But so is he for asking.

"Kiss me."

You said yes. He gets what he wants from you, thank god. He won't tell you that just this morning he had a dream, or rather a revelation of you letting him kiss you. That he blew off his duties at the agency and visited every single place you used to frequent together until he found you here to make the prophecy come true. That this is a selfish attempt at getting not just that kiss, but your entire being. Your noses touch, and he whispers once more.

"Are you sure about that? You don't sound so sure, little thing."

You swallow hard, and your voice comes out meek and soft.

"I always am."

"Even now?"

He doesn't even wait for your reply before he's closing the distance between you, locking your lips together and sealing you against him, as if worried after all this time you'd still try to move away and leave. The kiss lasts longer than it was intended to, but eventually Dazai removes himself from you, he couldn't bear it if you did so first. You never would, you think to yourself. His gaze is genuinely soft now, his cruelty melting away like a snowflake, but you're dying in his arms like the petal.

"You've always known I'm yours, right? And you're mine?"

You want to cry when he says that, if only it truly was that mutual.

"I want it to be that way, but it seems you only kiss me when no one's around."

The empty outdoor space that envelops them, along with the waves rhythmically crashing against the port punctuates the silence that follows after. Dazai breaks the pause, something about what you just said bothering him deeply.

"If I kissed you when everyone was around, wouldn't they start to look?"

He knows that's terrible thing to say to you, but doesn't want to admit that the thought of others seeing him happy makes him feel like it's an omen, that the second he openly recognizes he's yours you won't stay his for very long. That it will all be a dream from another world. You scoff as you look away, your eyes stinging.

"Mmm... You're funny."

"I'm serious, me being in a relationship? Imagine that. I think the whole agency would be at a standstill. How scandalous."

He doesn't mean that, but he doesn't know why he can't stop pretending he doesn't have feelings and just speak the truth. Surprisingly, you crack a small smile at that, trying to find humor in the fact that you'll never figure him out.

"They'd all think you're looney, which you are."

"That's an understatement! They'd think I'm deranged for letting such a cute person take me away from my very important duties.~"

He plays along with your sarcasm, what matters is you're cooperating.

"They'd all say I'm too good for you, anyway. Especially Kunikida." You really make sure that one hurts, but all he shows is a sly grin.

"It's just better if people don't know we're together, right?"

You look away, the moon's fully illuminating you both.

"It's better not to be together at all, Osamu."

Your words actually hurt like a knife to the chest, and once he goes there, he can't stop it. You weren't supposed to make such a permanent statement. He narrows his eyes, but his voice remains soft, desperate even.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what I mean, I'm not some secret you keep."

He somehow recovers and replies as smug as possible.

"I like you that way. Frozen in time, remember? The prettiest ice sculpture for me to adore for all eternity.... What else do you want me to say?"

You wince at that.

"Just say anything. Can you say it? Can you at least tell me you loved me at one point in time?"

That does it for him. You look so sad, you look so pliable and it's so attractive, but he's not looking to exploit that anymore tonight. It brings out something else. Something he can't take back.

"You do know I don't ever want anyone else, right? It was real to me then, and it's real to me now. Don't be dense."

He didn't notice the tears in your eyes before, the way they glisten thanks to the moon who's always on his side. He's stern when he speaks to you, his eyes locked on yours to make sure you get it through you stubborn little skull how devoted he has always been and always will be, even if he doesn't show it in the way you want him to.

You're irritated and enamored as you sniffle.

"And what am I supposed to do with that information, huh?"

He speaks above a whisper, you barely hear it yourself; It might as well be an auditory hallucination. His face is solemn, matching yours for once. He's not hiding anything right now.

"Keep it close to your heart and be mine..."

He clears his throat, and moves his other hand from your back to the other side of your face, fully holding you, making sure you have no escape.

"... I'm all yours, so be all mine. Okay?"

"We really are the same kind of stupid, Osamu... Now what?"

You say with a scoff that turns into a small laugh, your voice remaining bittersweet even in between sniffles.

"Now?" His voice trails off, humming as he pretends to think. There was never another outcome to this story, he was never going to say anything different. It's just the way he prophesied it. The way it's meant to be.

"Now you're going to take me home. We're going to get back to your place, and you'll reintroduce me to your very cold and lonely bed I've missed so much as I hold you forever and ever. You'll have no choice but to fall madly in love with me again, as I am with you. Done."

He drops your face and takes your hand properly now, hoping to lead you away into the night. He knows he doesn't deserve this, so he has to make it count.

He's hoping you won't find him crass and reject his request, he doesn't mean to be so blunt. He's just a desperate idiot who refuses to see another season change without you.

When Dazai says he misses intimacy with you, it's because he does. It's because he wants to tell you that this is the last time the cycle repeats itself, this is how he ends it but he needs you to want it too. You stare at him in disbelief at first, your hollow breathing now becoming shaky with each inhale. You choose to believe him, something in his face tells you he's being real for once. Besides, you already have nothing, so you can't lose anything.

"... Then lie in it again. Convince me."

You tuck a strand of his messy bangs that frame his face behind his ear, and you realize how pretty he looks this way. You never noticed he could be even more devastating than usual. You hope he'll keep letting you push it back like this.

He smiles, his voice dropping to a pleading tone at your reverent touch. At your mercy.

"Oh, I plan on it. We've made it this far. Even if it wasn't mutual anymore, it doesn't make it any less true... at least not for me. And just so you know, I did love you at one point in time, and I love you now, you fool."

You look down once again at the fallen petals at your feet already turning brown, and you realize this won't be you tonight, or ever again. You realize there is meaning in all of this and you won't be the snowflake nor the petal, you're going to be Dazai's. You squeeze his hand back, the corner of your lip curling up as you both walk away under the moonlight.

[the-dragon-hearted]

Part 1

There is a universe, somehow, where everything aligned just perfectly and left four desperate children on Silco's doorstep. A universe where Piltover is just a bit more ruthless: where Vander's connections aren't trustworthy and where his foolish sentimentality wins.

Vander's arrested, in Vi's place. He's so proud of her for trying to do the right thing - but he'll not make a sacrifice out of Felicia's daughter. The violence in the streets has to stop and Piltover won't stop until it has someone to blame for the theft. So the Hound becomes a sacrificial lamb.

But remember, his agreements are flimsier, and the trust between enforcer and undercity is as thin as the razor blade Mylo keeps in his pocket. The gold-trimmed enforcers aren't happy with a Hound dressed in wool - they want the girl. The one Jayce identified. Some pink-haired snot-nosed filthy brat. The thief. The terrorist.

They labeled her a terrorist: Vi. For a near-harmless explosion in a district she would've been beaten in, just for the grime in her hair.

And the Hound won't have that.

For the second time in his life, Vander's knuckles are stained with enforcer blood and the undercity begins to burn. Vi's next to him, eager to fight, but scared. She's just a kid after all. Always eager. Always scared.

Claggor, Mylo, and Powder come running as they limp back to the Last Drop. Powder's too busy crying into Vi's shirt to pay much attention to the screams outside. Reinforcements are just a few minutes away. The rats of the undercity retreat to spare themselves from the brutality beneath an enforcer's heel and the streets grow quieter and quieter. They all know how to slip away when the time demands it, but this is more than sneaking through the sewers and waiting for the storm to pass.

The enforcers, the council, Piltover: they'll keep coming. The blood on Vander and Vi's hands ensures that much. And they don't want him -

He looks to where Vi is hugging Powder back, a: "Sorry Powpow," being breathed. "Didn't mean to scare you -"

He can't let that happen. He can make himself the bigger problem - the biggest threat and that will buy the kids time and give those rich bastards a victory.

But then... it'll just be them.

Claggor's strong, Mylo's sly, Powder's clever, and Vi is brave. They're all tough as nails and they'll make it. At least until this underbelly starts ripping itself around. Vander's a smart man who knows what will happen in his absence, the cannibalistic tendencies of desperate people who need scapegoats.

And Vi's already willing to play the martyr. She proved that much. No, if he leaves he needs to leave them with something. Anything. Something that's as willing to fight for their future as...

That's when he gets the terrible idea. Right around the same time he hears the tell-tale racket of enforcers running down cobblestone. He grabs a bar napkin, and Claggor bars the door. He fumbles messily around for a piece of graphite or a damned pen.

Vi pushes Powder behind her and grabs a half-empty bottle from a table. There's a shatter as she arms herself with razor glass. These kids are well versed at making weapons, they have to be.

They'll only get better at it if he finishes this note. He's signing their lives away to a different demon. There's no guarantee they'll live long enough to give him the note. It's a terrible idea -

"I'll never betray Zaun's children"

Powder's climbing behind the bar with him, clinging to his leg. Mylo climbs over the other side, fiddling with a collection of rusty steak knives. Claggor's grabbed a chair and broke it, two wooden beams in either hand.

Suffocating in the streets is better than dying on a bridge.

"Take this," he gives it to Vi before slipping on his knuckles. "Find Silco. Ask around, and he'll find you."

"What?" it's a challenge from her. She's ready to fight to keep what she has.

She doesn't realize that every fight comes with a loss. And eventually, it's going to take everything from her. Once you bloody those knuckles you never stop - not really.

But not today. Today it'll only take him, and hopefully, she'll remember what they talked about. She'll remember that despite this shitshow - he's proud of her for finding a peaceful solution. He's proud of her for putting down those fists.

But there was no way in hell he was going to let her go.

"Take care of each other," he orders slipping on his other gauntlet. Mylo and Powder stare at him with wide eyes. Claggor's lip is trembling.

"Remember. Remember, to look out for each other!" he orders.

"No!" Powder seems to understand now as Vander pulls the bracings away from the door. She scrambles over the bar with a muffled wail. Mylo stops her right as Vander throws the door open.

"Vander!" Vi screams, but the hound is loose.

He's in the streets and he's set about making these fools remember why they follow the light. Why they fear the undercity so badly they chase its children to sate their fury. Dark things live in the undercity. Zaun's children are raised in air so heavy it turns their lungs to iron. Her streets sharpen their teeth and build calluses over their knuckles until the only thing they feel is the warm crimson in their wake.

Vander had hoped he'd never do this - be this. But jaws shatter under his fist faster than glasses fill with his whiskey. He's good at this. Always has been. The kids slip away - he knows that much.

Everything else is a bit of a blur. He glimpses Ekko, once, on the rooftops. The boy heads after the other four and Vander is thankful for that. Benzo didn't survive the first wave... he doesn't have much chance to reflect on that because there's another enforcer in his grip and a new scream in the air.

He buys the kids plenty of time. Too much time.

Enough time for all of Zaun to hear the news: the Hound's fighting back! Five enforcers are dead! Six! Ten! Enough time for Vi and Mylo to find their informants.

Silco isn't exactly a subtle name. He's well hidden, that's true, but a familiar blond limped his way over to one of the abandoned warehouses after Vi kicked the shit out of him. Word on the street is that he's in with someone named Silco. Doesn't mean much to the informant or to Vi.

It's enough. They slip into one of Zaun's many industrial districts just as Vander finally falls.

Piltover's attack dogs got him - they would eventually, he knew that much. A wild hound is fierce but numbers always win. Part of him's happy to die on familiar cobblestones. Better than the cool stone of prison - better than anything Piltover had in mind for him. This way, the kids would know what happened to him. They wouldn't do anything stupid.

Well... they'd probably still do some stupid things. He coughed out a laugh, blood hacking out of his lungs as it all began to fade. Good. They deserved to be a bit stupid. They were kids...

Just kids.

Hopefully, Silco remembers that...

Silco? Oh, Silco remembers. He'd been making a plan revolving around that. Kids are foolish. Kids are loyal. Children are painfully easy to manipulate and kill. Children are easy to make disappear.

Killing Vander and his children was quite literally on his upcoming schedule. It was going to be a glorious sort of revenge, making Vander watch it happen - helpless to stop it as he drowned in his own pacifism. It was going to be inhumane. The final nail in Silco's old coffin.

So pardon him for taking a moment to stare at the victims delivered to his doorstep. Half of him wants to laugh. The other half feels like he's been shoved back into that damn river.

The children only stare back, wide-eyed and curious. Scared too... haunted in some wonderfully poetic way.

"Can I help you?" Silco demands cooly after his disbelief has been satiated.

The pink one steps forward, naturally. She's Vander's little favorite, his poster child: basically a replica. Taking charge is probably laced in her veins.

She hands him a napkin.

"He told us to come here," she breathes, and it almost sounds like a prayer.

Silco cannot focus on anything but the napkin.

"Well... not here," the wily boy in the back disagrees slowly as he gives a scathing glance to a dead mouse in the corner. "He told us to find you."

Silco watches them carefully and then unfolds the napkin. If this is a trap it's ridiculous and definitely not Vander's idea. Perhaps these children are simply suicidal - or stupid.

He reads it.

Pauses. Reads it again.

He glances to that pink one again: Violet. Felicia's daughter. The other one is to her right, clinging to the elder's bruised knuckles. Powder... right?

Mylo. And Claggor.

Vander's children.

Vander's children!

He reads it one more time.

"It is kind of messy," Claggor's sheepish tone contradicts his appearance sharply. "He was in a rush -"

"I can read it," Silco snarls. He whirls around and plunges further into the bowels of the warehouse.

The children follow, blindly. Because they were told to. They follow the devil into his den because Vander told them to.

Why Silco let them, he'll never be able to explain. Never. Why he didn't finish was Vander started: destroy all remnants of their old life, including those damned children - he'll never say.

He can't. Because Vander sent him his children and a note. It changes nothing.

Except it changes everything.