#Ranpo Edogawa angst

[causenessus]

comforting you. | bungou stray dogs

inc. chuuya, dazai, ranpo, odasaku

written is second pov (no gendered pronouns used)

"you deserve this." by men i trust

word count: 4.6k words

notes/warnings: separate scenarios for each bsd man and how they comfort you when you’re feeling down, giving you both love and realistic advice. i feel like i bounced between writing generalized headcanons and hyperspecific scenarios, so i’m sorry but i hope you enjoy this <3 each of you is deserving of so much love and patience <3 you deserve to be here <3 each pairing is in an established relationship. also (relevant for odasku’s scenario), the orphans are still alive. my writing my universe. i'm actually beastzai in another au where everyone lives and is happy and everything is okay. use of pet names "sweetheart" (chuuya scenario) "angel" (dazai scenario) and "love" (oda). general hurt/comfort drabbles :) lmk if I should add anything! i would NOT consider this proofread because I read it half-asleep at midnight trying to edit it so forgive me for any mistakes 🙏

special shoutouts to @dorotheasdiary + @aouzi for hyping me up/listening to my rambles abt this work!! sorry for the tag </3

chuuya.

sometimes the urge to give up became too strong. 

was it too much to ask time to stop for just one day? it seemed all your pleas to the sky were falling on deaf ears.

still, as all things do, you eventually lost the motivation to keep pushing forward on your own.

like a runner who trips upon a small pebble and can’t get back into their pace, slowly, slowly falling behind the others.

the one difference was that you had come to a complete stop. you'd never allowed yourself a break until you were completely burnt out; unable to move even a muscle.

you haven’t even made it out of bed the whole day. 

the room was starting to feel sick and stuffy with how long you’d laid in those sheets that no longer seemed to provide any comfort. rather, you felt like you were simply dirtying the sheets by continuing to lie there, purposeless, useless.

you barely had it in you to call out of work before drifting back into a mundane sleep that you continued to wake up and fall back into for the better half of the day. you hadn’t looked at your phone after sending a quick text to your manager, unprepared for whatever kind of passive-aggressive response they'd messaged back with because of your late notice. the unknown was too much right now, you couldn't focus on anyone you couldn't read but yourself. you didn’t want to be around friends, family, or people out on the street, where your mind would run rapid laps around itself, trying to figure out what everyone thought of you.

at work, it was the same; sizing yourself up to your coworkers, figuring out how well-liked you were— how replaceable you would be if one day you suddenly up and dropped, or, more likely in your mind, you annoyed everyone enough that they let you go. 

never really knowing what others thought terrified you. obviously it wasn't the norm despite living in a world filled with those gifted with abilities to be able to read another's mind but that didn’t mean your mind could simply let the anxieties go. your head always seemed to be buzzing, preoccupied with concerns about something.

which is why you had tried to block everything out, the moment you woke up this morning and every rustle of your legs tumbled in the sheets was too loud for your ears; a playlist of music on shuffle played softly from your phone nearby, giving your brain something mindless to focus on while you had your head pressed between pillows to deafen out the rest of the world.

you didn’t feel any better or any energized despite how much you had slept today, but at the very least, sleep often took you away from constantly having to listen to whatever your mind wanted to rave and overthink next.

'what time is it? have i even gotten up once today? i should at least walk around. clean up. i'll never be motivated to get out of bed like this—' there your head went, taking one simple question and turning it into spindles of chains to wrap around your throat.

but when you feel the mattress sink beside you, suddenly everything goes quiet. the sheets become just sheets again–not something you’re sinking into or dirtying. someone has opened the curtains, revealing an orange sunset outside, and something nice is playing from the speaker of your phone, you realize.

he is the only one who doesn’t make your head spin. he is your grounding anchor, the gravitational force keeping your feet planted on this earth, opening your eyes to the beauty of the world you couldn’t otherwise see due your own anxieties.

“you been here all day?” he must have snuck in without you even hearing him (which isn’t hard to believe, considering the cushions you’d just been pressing to both of your ears), even giving him enough time to change. chuuya’s hair is still in a loose ponytail and he wears that black choker around his neck as always, but he’s dressed in a white shirt and some sweatpants, his gloveless hands reaching out to rub circles in your back.

he’s bare with you, and that’s what you love most about him.

you’ve had you’re insecurities about not being good enough for him and anything else typical within a relationship, but he never leaves you wondering. he grabs your hand to keep you from floating away too far, getting lost in your own thoughts, often pulling you back into the moment, when you’re lying in bed with him on quiet nights, the sides of your faces only lit by a nearby warm bedside lamp. he’ll trace the side of your face, searching your eyes, asking, “where did you go?”

and you can’t always answer, but you know, every time he asks you this question, that at least you can tell him where you are now. you’re at home with him. 

and this moment is no different, with his calloused hands gliding up and down your back, and you only let out a small whine, shuffling closer to him as best as you can with how tangled you are up in his sheets.

“what’s wrong?” he asks softly, head tilting towards you slightly as you shimmy closer. “how can i help, sweetheart?”

you like how clear he is. how he always tells you what he’s thinking. he never leaves anything up to interpretation, always silencing your thoughts before they can make an assumption and run far with it.

while in the beginning of your relationship, it was hard to always voice what you needed, you came to realize with time that when chuuya asked you what he could do to help, it wasn’t him pressuring you to tell him what was wrong. it was simply how his head worked; he wanted you to be clear about what you needed. if that meant talking out your problems, he would listen. if that meant leaving you alone, he’d give you as much time as you needed (albeit probably checking in at some points just to make sure you didn’t need anything, it was just his nature to care for you). but all in all, he just needed you to talk to him. he would talk to you, you would talk to him. that's how miscommunication was prevented. your mind always felt so clear when you were around him because of how rationally he seemed to think of everything—all you had to do was follow his lead, and everything else came easily. things were never sugar-coated between the two of you, they were said plain and simple. (and with how charming he was, chuuya’s words often ended up being just as sweet as sugar anyway, not even needing to be wrapped up in some false front. when he said “i love you,” it was something clear. a fact, not something said just to appease you or mellow things out, he said it because he meant it).

and how refreshing it was, being lost in a sea of your own murky, unclear thoughts based off of assumptions upon assumptions, to be pulled from that ocean to the shoreline and be promised that the sun would rise again.

eventually, opening up to him became easier. even thought it sometimes took a few hours, you always ended up telling him what was on your mind and he waited patiently every time. he only ever listened unless you asked for more, and he never invalidated your feelings. trusting that he was just going to listen to you, it began to take even less time to prepare yourself to open up. it became as easy as taking a sip of water; something you had to do voluntarily, but was still needed, healing, and often refreshing.

the pitch of your voice slightly heightens as you hum a “yes” in response to his question, curling up closer to him, and his fingers have found their way into your hair, combing through it. “got tired of everything,” you whisper softly, resting your forehead against the side of his thigh, thankful for his contact.

“yeah? i’m sure you did, baby. you’re doing a lot. it’s good to take a break every now and then. anything in particular spur you to take the day off? there’s no shame in just deciding to take a rest day for the hell of it either, though,” he speaks as gently as his actions, shifting slightly on the bed so that you can rest more comfortably, your head now laying in his lap, and he brushes your hair out of your face as you look up at him and his pretty bangs framing his face as he leans down towards you.

you hum in thought at the question, searching your brain for the answer. was there something that had triggered you to break today? or was it just the build-up of it all? “not really anything in particular,” you shrug slightly, still admiring his golden-brown eyes, hooded and soft, gazing into your own, “just felt like everything came toppling down today. i’ve just been thinking too much about what others think of me. i don’t feel that important to the world, or my job. i’m easily replaceable–nothing special–and yet i have to keep fighting for this job. i have to fight to occupy space for myself in the world when i never even asked to be here in the first place. —and of course you make everything better but i mean–you know me. you’re good to me. you’re too good to me. and sometimes i can’t understand why you waste all of that goodness in you on me.” by the time you’re finished, he’s gently lifted your head out of his lap to lay down on his side next to you, continuing to face you the entire time. 

you finish your long-winded explanation of unreasonable worries, and he only stares into your face, and you begin to shift under his eyes uncomfortably. his head his propped up in his hands, and he wears a small smile on his face, eyes flicking every few moments to focus on a different part of your face. “...chuu?” you whisper his name quietly, and his smile only grows.

“sorry, got too caught up admiring your pretty face,” he apologizes, and there he goes again, being so honest it makes your heart squeeze sometimes. he shifts his position slightly, reaching out his free hand to intertwine his slender fingers with yours, gently pressing the pads of his fingertips against your own, playing with them. “well, first of all, don’t think of your life through the lens that you are now. you can’t control or read anyone else’s mind, and that’s okay. people make a lot of irrational decisions anyway, it’s impossible to predict what someone will do, so don’t worry about what they think. what makes how they perceive you or what they think more correct than what you feel? they could be totally wrong about something, and they are if they think you’re replaceable, or bad, or whatever. don’t make yourself smaller for anyone else. you’re so smart and thoughtful and if anyone makes you feel bad about who you are, i’ll talk shit back to them, alright?”

you nod at his words but don’t meet his attempt to lighten the mood, only shifting closer again, hiding your face in his chest, breathing in his scent. his hand is back on your head, keeping you close while combing through your hair. “i think you're perfect as you are, [y/n]. i wouldn't want you any other way. you're the only thing on my mind all the time and you’re all i think about—if you're worried about what goes through my mind. i'll always be here for you, i'll be right behind you even if the world is against you. all you need is me, i’d burn everything to the ground for you in a heartbeat."

dazai.

as a kid, you quickly learned not to fight back. 

others were allowed to be angry and lash out, but when you did the same, it was wrong wrong wrong.

when you were young, you learned that love was conditional.

there was no understanding when it came to your emotions. no matter the kind of day that you had you were still expected to always be kind and patient, and never yell back.

to be loved–or rather, to simply survive in this world, you had to be the smaller person; never expect someone to love you for who you are, but because they like that you’re agreeable, quiet, and passive. never expect anyone to care about how you feel, no matter how close of a friend they are.

and surely, you couldn’t expect any kind of empathy from a coworker.

but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, and you could feel the way your chest contracted, suffocating with you, every time you were the brunt of kunikida’s critiques. there was no middle between letting the man belittle you to a husk of your former self or the scariest option of all: say something and risk your dynamic with him worsening even more.

setting boundaries and speaking your mind had never been things that came easy to you, as admitting that something was wrong in your relationship with someone always seemed to leave a gaping hole in the relationship that would always be prevalent, at least to you. telling someone who seemed to be unaware of how unkind their words were “you’re hurting me” seemed to always make things awkward between you and the other party. they realized they could no longer throw you around and every time they left, you couldn't help but think you should've dealt with it and kept your mouth shut. 

so you smile and nod along to whatever kunikida’s ordering you to do next, fake laughing when he says something about how important the job is and to make sure you don’t fail, as if such an option was even possible. you had never messed up anything he asked you to do, and with how long he went on about the importance of the job, you never planned to. but his ending words always reminded you of how little your efforts seemed to matter to him. he would never trust you or see you as anything better than just a little office worker to dump work on.

your face drops as soon as the man turns his back to you, and you let out a quiet sigh before returning to the laptop in front of you before hands upon your shoulders scare you.

“caught you!” a voice pops up from behind you, making you exclaim, jumping in your seat, whipping your head around to see a familiar brown-haired man. he was always causing problems for kunikida and getting scolded, and yet he seemed to be able to take everything as a light-hearted joke. he came into work every day with a smile on his face and new ways to irritate kunikida, while you couldn’t see yourself ever returning to this office if that man yelled at you the way he yelled at the boy in front of you even once.

“dazai! you scared me,” your eyes follow him as he slides into the chair next to you, slightly rolling away from you with how he’d launched himself into the seat. “what did you…catch?” you ask, watching as he scoots closer back to you again, resting his cheek on a bandaged arm atop of the oak desk you both sit at.

“now, now. let's not try and act all innocent. why are you letting him talk to you like that if it hurts you?” he asks with a smile, while your face only pales, your heart completely freezing up the moment you hear the question you fear most. you have to tear your eyes away before he sees through you anymore, and you look down into your lap, where you’re picking at your fingers. if dazai noticed it, surely others did. had kunikida been able to read your face? had you offended him because you refused to communicate your true feelings with him? maybe you seemed like a stuck-up individual in his eyes if he could tell that you were faking with him, and you weren’t sure if him believing that lie or finding out the truth would be worse.

“well i…” you trail off when his fingers come into your line of sight, intertwining them with yours, stopping you from the bad habit.

“have i ever gotten upset with you for very understandably getting annoyed at my endless antics? have we ever disagreed on something we absolutely refused to resolve? no to both. but are humans creatures of imperfection by nature? have we all made mistakes? yes, and that’s why they’re able to forgive each other unless they’re insufferably stuck up. but don’t let your head turn kunikida into a monster he’s not. he’ll understand if you ask him to speak to you less directly, or with more belief in you. he’s giving you these jobs because he trusts you, you know. he just rambles on about the importance of them because that’s who he is. you know that, and you know him. you know he’ll work to treat others with the respect they deserve, you just have to tell him so first. but he’s not going to get mad at you,” your eyes flick up from where he’s running a thumb along your knuckles up to him, only to find him already looking at you with those warm hazel brown eyes of his. he’s right, and it feels nice to be seen and not bashed for your true feelings. instead, you're being understood. under his gaze, you no longer feel weak for how sensitive or emotional you may feel. he’s looking at you like you’re worth something, worth enough that you can fight for yourself, worth enough to deserve to be comfortable in your relationships, rather than used by those near you.

“thank you,” you mumble, and he’s pulled you close by the wheels of your own chair, your knees knocking as one of his hands reach up to caress the back of your neck, soothing you further as you continue to look at him.

his lips are still curved into a smile, not the trickster one he wears as he comes up with his next plot to harass kunikida, but a soft, genuine one, like he loves and cares about you, without you even asking anything of him. maybe this is what love is; being looked at and known, without even having to open your mouth.

“of course, angel,” he murmurs, fingers brushing against the back of your scalp, “bring it up while atsuhi or i are around if you want, we’ll help you explain how you feel. you’re not alone, you never were and you never have to be."

ranpo.

ranpo’s heightened abilities to observe, infer, and understand go far past anything related to his detective work. 

the first time he found you feeling down and wanted to comfort you, he defaulted to what he knows helps him feel better (i.e. sweet treats, dim lights, warm, quiet environments). the entire time, while his hand is on your back, rubbing it soothingly as you lean against him, soft cries muffled by the blanket he’s placed over you, his brain is running the entire time with what he can do best to support you; did you like what he brung you? do you prefer to isolate yourself or do you like the company when you’re feeling down? blankets or no blankets? do you want him to talk to you and try to provide a distraction or is just being there for you what you need? touch, or no touch?

ranpo is so attentive to your needs. whatever you want and is best for you, he will get you and do for you. he gives all thanks to fukuzawa, for helping him realize not everyone sees the world the way he does, all those years ago. since then, he’s learned to be more responsive, emotionally thoughtful, and soft-hearted in his responses if that’s that what you need. but if you want to hear logic and how he’s rationalizing out your situation, he can do that, too. again, he is completely willing to bend and shape himself to your needs. the only thing he will always push for is to be in a room with you when you’re feeling down, even if you don’t want company </3

he knows when you really need to be alone, but he doesn’t like to let you be on your own for too long. he’ll always be in the next room over if you need anything, quietly pacing the room, only worried and thinking of you and if he can do anything more for you. if you’re curled up in bed all night, he’ll eventually knock on the door to ask if he can sleep with you and keep you company. he wholeheartedly believes letting other people help you and be there for you helps, especially to prevent you from spiraling down any pits of despair or insecurity. he wants you to know how much he cares about you and your wellbeing, he wants to be there to hold you close, press gentle kisses to your head, and murmur promises that he’ll never ever leave you alone.

but if you say no to company, he is happy to sleep on the couch and will be up the moment you call his name if you need something or decide you do want company. he is there completely for you always and whenever, and all of it comes from a place of love. he’ll never push you to do anything or tell him anything you don’t want to, and he’ll try not to infer anything even if he knows he could use context clues to find out exactly what’s upsetting you. he knows you’ll tell him when you’re ready if you want to, and it’s never his job to be in your business. his only responsibility is to love you and make sure you know it <3

oda.

you’ve never been great at facing your own problems, and you’re even worse at facing others in your time of struggle. it feels impossible to rely upon anyone, no matter how close they are to you.

sakunosuke oda is a selfless man, always taking care of others, putting their wellbeing above his own. he took in five orphans despite knowing the increased risk to his own safety that would come with taking care of them, and he still chose to do it despite not having a place of his own to take care of them at. he gives half of his wage as one of the lowest-ranking members of the port mafia to the kids every time he receives his salary and he’s never once deviated from the habit.

you know he’d drop everything for you if you told him what was wrong, but you couldn’t do that to him. it didn’t feel that serious. and worst of all, telling him how you were feeling would only cause him to cut his job short and then he’d be standing there with you while you continued to wallow in misery; of course his presence would help you feel better, but it wouldn’t immediately solve everything.

it wasn’t worth it. was your justification as you slipped out of your shared apartment. it wasn’t worth telling someone else how you were feeling, because they couldn’t solve it. you couldn’t solve it. you couldn’t even figure out for yourself what was wrong. you had to make your existence worth it instead, then. the best way you found, to distract yourself from your feelings and make sure they remained pushed down, was by helping others. no one whose in need of help often asks how others are truly doing, and you like that about them.

you don’t tell him where you’re going. you have nothing to hide; you just don’t want to worry him. you’ll tell him if he asks, but for now, you’re on your own.

but what kind of partner would he be if he didn’t know you? if he hadn’t memorized and kissed every mole, freckle, and blemish adorning your body? he knew you better than you realized, although you could never fully accept the fact that he paid attention to you, remembered your likes and dislikes, and knew your habits and routines like the back of his hand, all just because he loves you.

and when he comes home from work to an empty house, searching for any traces of you, he’s not worried. he has an idea of where you are and he knows that all he needs to do is text you, if he's curious. and he doesn’t immediately push his assumptions onto you about why you might be out and where; he knows you can take care of yourself and that you’ll communicate your needs to him. so when he texts you, it's not that he's demanding that you come home or ot tell him your whereabouts. rather, his texts are just to let you know he cares and is waiting for you at home.

sakunosuke ♡ : i’m home, just wanted to let you know

sakunosuke ♡ : text me if you need anything. and be safe

if he sees that you haven’t at least read his message within an hour or if he just can't wait to see you when you get home, whenever that may be, he already knows where to find you nine times out of 10. he’ll text the owner of his favorite curry shop, asking him if he’s seen you while already on his way down to the restaurant.

it's usually where he can find you there when you’re feeling down; braiding sakura’s hair, folding their laundry, coloring with one of the boys, helping out downstairs in the kitchen, or wherever else you can find a place to keep yourself busy. he knows that you’re always like this when you’re upset, and if you won’t take the day off to take care of yourself, then he will do it for you happily and well. he won’t even try to pull you away from what you’re doing–he’ll simply sit down with you, grabbing his own colored pencil while making small talk with the kids, giving you a small smile when you realize he's come into the room. or suddenly he’s next to you, helping you carry and hang up laundry, or drying off the dishes you’re washing.

and then before you know it, you’re walking home with him, hand in hand, a plastic bag rustling in his free one. you’ve both stopped to get food on the way home, and once you make it there, he’s immediately sitting you down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “let me do everything, love.” he’ll help you out of your clothes into something more comfortable, holding your hair back while you wash your face and clean up, he’ll pull your chair out for you as you sit back down, and run a hand through your hair, keeping any stray strands out of your face as you eat. 

outside of the house, you can bury your feelings as much as you want to and work to please others, but at home with him, you’re the focus. you’re the one who’s honored and worshipped in the house. sakunosuke’s not letting you lift a finger if he can help it, and you can’t get away with continuing to ignore your feelings when his only desire is to help you.

and you’ll tell him what’s bothering you when you’re ready. he knows that after how long you both have been together. and so in the meantime, he’ll wait patiently, showering you with all the love in the world. ♡

[moomuzan]

— 𝖇𝖗𝖔𝖐𝖊𝖓 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖘

requested , you break up with them , angst , chuuya , kunikida , ranpo , dazai x gn! reader , requests are open xoxo

Dim lights suffocated your shared apartment in silence. You sat by the window, staring at the buzzing city that blinked like distant, uncaring stars. Your heart ached in its cage, heavy with the weight of too many broken promises. Too many nights spent waiting, too many lies wrapped in pretty words.

You had told yourself this time would be different. This time, DAZAI would mean it.

When the door creaked open, the faint scent of alcohol drifted in with him. Dazai stood in the doorway, his coat slung carelessly over his shoulder, his hair disheveled. He had that same crooked smile, the one that used to make your heart flutter but now only made it crack a little more.

“Ah, belladonna,” he said softly, shutting the door behind him. “Still awake? You didn’t have to wait for me.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you turned to look at him. He noticed the empty wineglass on the table beside you, the untouched plate of food you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to eat. His smile faltered for just a moment, but he recovered quickly, as he always did.

“I got caught up,” he said lightly, shrugging off his coat and draping it over the back of a chair. “You know how it is. Things happen. Time slips away.”

“Time doesn’t slip away, Osamu,” you said, your voice quiet but sharp. “You let it.”

He stilled, his back to you, his hands tightening on the chair. For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator, a hollow sound that filled the space between you. Slowly, he turned, his face carefully blank, though you could see the unease flickering behind his eyes.

“I told you I’d change,” he said softly, stepping toward you. “I told you I’d try—”

“You’ve been saying that for months,” you interrupted, standing up from your seat. Your voice broke on the last word, and you hated how small you sounded, how tired. “And what’s changed, Dazai? What’s actually different?”

His hands twitched at his sides, and for once, he didn’t have a clever response. “I’m trying,” he whispered, his voice almost pleading.

With hitching breath you shook your head, tears spilling over despite how hard you tried to keep them in. “Trying isn’t enough anymore,” you said, your voice trembling. “I gave you everything I had, Osamu. I waited for you, believed in you. And all you ever gave me was pieces of yourself—never enough to hold, never enough to feel whole.”

“Belladonna,” he said, his voice breaking, stepping closer as if the sound of your name could mend the fractures spreading between you. “Please. Don’t—”

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, stepping back from him, your hands trembling as you reached for your bag. “I love you, but loving you feels like drowning. And I don’t want to drown anymore.”

He froze, his face crumbling in a way you had never seen before. The ever-present mask slipped away, leaving behind a raw, aching vulnerability that nearly stopped you in your tracks. “Don’t leave,” he said, his voice cracking, desperate. “I’ll do better. I’ll—”

But you shook your head, your heart shattering even as you turned away. “I’ve heard it all before,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. “And I don’t think you know how to be better, Osamu.”

The door closed behind you, and for a moment, the world outside felt just as suffocating as the apartment you had left. Inside, Dazai sank to the floor, his head in his hands, his chest heaving with the weight of everything he hadn’t said.

For once, there were no words, no excuses, no clever remarks to hide behind. Only the sharp, aching truth: you were gone, and he had only himself to blame.

,

The room smelled faintly of sugar and salt—the remnants of the snacks he had devoured earlier, his wrappers still littering the coffee table. The curtains were drawn, the world outside shut out as always, and RANPO lounged on the couch like he didn’t have a care in the world. You stood by the window, the cool glass pressed to your fingers, staring out at the city lights that stretched endlessly beyond the horizon.

This wasn’t what you had wanted. Not now. Not anymore.

“Ranpo,” you said, softly at first, and then louder when he didn’t respond. “Ranpo, we need to talk.”

He glanced up from the handheld game console in his lap, tilting his head with that casual, almost dismissive smile you had grown to dread. “What about?”

You crossed your arms, trying to steady your voice, trying to ignore the way he was already looking at you like you were overreacting. “About us. About how you keep promising you’ll take this seriously. That you’ll try. But nothing’s changed, has it?”

Sighing dramatically, Ranpo set the console aside. “Oh, come on. Not this again. I told you, didn’t I? I’ll work on it. I just need more time.”

“Time?” you repeated, the word sharp in your mouth. “How much more time, Ranpo? How much longer am I supposed to wait for you to care enough to do something, anything, for us?”

His brow furrowed, his lips curving into a slight pout as if he were offended. “You’re acting like I don’t care,” he said, shrugging. “But I do. I’m here, aren’t I? Doesn’t that count for something?”

You laughed bitterly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Being here isn’t the same as showing up for me, Ranpo. You keep me at arm’s length, always distracted, always playing your games or solving your mysteries like they’re the only things that matter. You keep saying you’ll try, but you never actually do. It’s like I’m begging for scraps, and I can’t do it anymore.”

His expression wavered, his confident mask slipping for just a second before he replaced it with indifference. “You’re blowing this out of proportion. You know how I am. Relationships just… aren’t my thing. I thought you understood that.”

“That’s the problem,” you snapped, the tears spilling over now. “I do understand. I understand that I’ve been waiting for someone who’s never going to meet me halfway. I’ve been fighting for something that’s never going to change.”

Ranpo leaned forward, his voice softening. “You’re overthinking it. You always do. I’m fine with how things are—why can’t you be?”

“Because I’m not fine, Ranpo,” you said, your voice breaking. “I’m exhausted. I love you, but I feel like I’m the only one trying, the only one who wants more than this endless cycle of nothing. And I can’t keep breaking my own heart waiting for you to catch up.”

Grabbing your coat, your chest tightened as you heard him shift on the couch behind you. “Wait,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically low, uncertain. “You’re not serious. You’re not really leaving, are you?”

You hesitated, your hand trembling on the doorknob. “I don’t want to leave,” you whispered. “But you’ve left me no choice.”

The door clicked shut behind you, and the air outside felt sharp, cold, and biting. Inside, Ranpo stared at the spot where you had stood, his hands limp in his lap, his mind racing in ways it never had before.

He had solved countless puzzles, unraveled mysteries no one else could touch, but this—this loss, this empty space where you used to be—was a riddle he couldn’t solve. For once, his brilliance was useless. And for the first time in his life, he felt truly, utterly lost.

,

The faint sound of keys jangling outside the door stirred you from where you sat, curled up on the couch with your arms wrapped around yourself. The clock read 2:37 AM. You didn’t need to look to know it was him. The heavy stomp of boots, the rasp of his breathing—alive, but barely.

As the door swung open, CHUUYA stumbled inside, his coat hanging in tatters, blood splattered across his shirt. He was holding his side, though he tried to hide the wince as he stepped forward.

“Don’t,” you said, your voice low, strained. You didn’t even look at him, staring instead at the cold, untouched tea sitting on the table.

Chuuya froze mid-step, the smirk he’d been ready to give you fading into something softer, something more uncertain. “Babe—”

“You can’t keep doing this, Chuuya.” Your words were barely above a whisper, trembling with all the emotion you couldn’t hold in any longer as you stared at his side as blood spilled to the ground.

He flinched at the sound of your voice, his hand dropping from his side. “I’m fine,” he muttered, stepping closer. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”

“Just a scratch,” you repeated bitterly, your knuckles white as you clenched your fists. “Every time, it’s just a scratch. And one day, it won’t be. One day, someone’s going to walk through that door, but it won’t be you. It’ll be Mori or someone else from the Port Mafia, and they’ll tell me you’re gone.”

Feeling his jaw tighten, he didn’t speak. He couldn’t.

“I’ve waited up every night,” you continued, your voice breaking. “Every single night, wondering if this will be the time you don’t come back. I can’t do it anymore, Chuuya. I can’t keep loving someone who doesn’t love themselves enough to stay alive.”

The red-head moved closer, reaching for you, his gloves sticky with blood. “Don’t do this,” he said, his voice rough, desperate. “I’m here, aren’t I? I came back. I’ll always come back.”

You stood, stepping away from him. He stopped in his tracks, his hands falling to his sides. “And for how long?” you asked, tears streaming down your face. “How many more times do I have to patch you up? How many more times do I have to wonder if the next fight will be your last?”

He stared at you, his chest rising and falling as if he couldn’t catch his breath. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the words didn’t come. He didn’t know how to promise you something he couldn’t control.

You grabbed your bag, your heart breaking with every step toward the door. Chuuya reached out again, his fingers brushing against your wrist, but you pulled away. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice so quiet it was almost swallowed by the silence. “But I can’t keep doing this. I won’t.”

The door shut behind you, the sound reverberating through the apartment like a gunshot. Chuuya stood there, frozen, his hand still outstretched.

And then, slowly, he sank to his knees, his head bowing as he pressed his bloody hands to his face. The room felt colder without you in it, the silence deafening. He had faced death countless times, laughed in its face even, but nothing had ever hit him like this.

He sat there for hours, unmoving, his chest aching with a pain he couldn’t fight, couldn’t fix. You were gone. And this time, he couldn’t bring you back.

,

The apartment felt lifeless, weighed down by the hum of the overhead lamp. KUNIKIDA sat at his desk, rigid as always, his pen gliding over the pages of his notebook with the same precision he brought to every corner of his life. The faint scratch of ink against paper was the only sound, filling the chasm where your voice used to belong.

You lingered by the doorway, your shadow stretching into the room, unnoticed. The sight of him—the man who once looked at you as if you were the one constant in his world—cut deeper than any words could. His face was lit by the cold, clinical glow of the desk lamp, sharp lines of exhaustion etched beneath his glasses. You wondered if he even realized how distant he had become, how hollow his promises now sounded.

“Kunikida,” you said, softly at first, the word trembling on your tongue like a final plea.

He didn’t stop writing. “In a minute,” he replied, the words automatic, lifeless.

Your lips parted in a bitter smile. A minute. How many of those had passed? How many hours had you spent as a footnote in his grand designs, the love you’d once shared overshadowed by ideals scribbled in neat columns? “No,” you said, the word firmer this time, cutting through the quiet. “We need to talk.”

The pen paused mid-stroke, his brow furrowing as though your interruption was a disruption in his carefully crafted world. He turned to look at you, his sharp eyes dim with impatience. “Is this really the time for dramatics?”

His words stung more than they should have, but you bit back the tears threatening to rise. Instead, you stepped forward, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I’ve waited for you,” you said, each word heavy with a grief you could no longer swallow. “For months, for years. I’ve waited for you to let me in. To give me even a piece of yourself that isn’t already claimed by this—” you gestured to the notebook, the desk, the rigid structure of his life “—this endless pursuit of perfection.”

Kunikida’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “I’m building something. For us. Don’t you see that? What I’m doing matters. It’s not about—”

“It’s not about me,” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “I know. It never has been. You’ve spent so long chasing your ideals that you’ve forgotten the person standing right in front of you. I’ve begged for scraps, Kunikida. Scraps of your time, your attention, your love. And I can’t do it anymore.”

The air between you seemed to thicken, silence stretching taut like a string on the verge of snapping. His mouth opened, but for once, Kunikida Doppo—so eloquent, so composed—had no words.

“I needed you,” you said, stepping back toward the door. “Not the future you’re building. Not the man you think you’re supposed to be. Just you. And you couldn’t give me that.”

You turned before he could see the tears finally spill over, the door clicking shut behind you.

Kunikida remained frozen, staring at the empty space where you had stood. The notebook lay open before him, a half-finished list of tasks glaring up at him like an accusation. Slowly, his gaze dropped to his hands, ink smudged on his fingers, trembling slightly.

This was supposed to be temporary, he told himself. The long nights, the endless sacrifices—it was all for something greater, something noble. But what good were his ideals now? What use were his plans if they had driven you away?

He closed the notebook with a trembling hand, the echo of the shut cover resounding through the empty apartment. And for the first time, Kunikida felt as though his vision of the future had slipped irreparably from his grasp.

,

The casino lights always felt too bright, too harsh, masking the emptiness that lingered behind them. The man sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped, his head bowed as if the weight of the entire world pressed down on him. His hands twisted nervously in his lap, trembling faintly, though SIGMA tried to still them.

You stood by the window, staring out at the neon glow of the city beyond. The glass reflected your silhouette back at you—a hollow figure, worn down by the same conversation you’d tried to have too many times.

“Do you even hear me, Sigma?” you asked softly, your voice breaking the stillness.

“I do,” he replied immediately, too quickly, his voice thin and fragile. But he didn’t look at you. He never did, not when it mattered most.

You turned, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Then why?” The word came out sharper than you intended, slicing through the air between you. “Why do you keep pulling away? Why do I feel like I’m the only one trying?”

Sigma flinched, his head sinking lower. “I’m trying,” he muttered, though the words sounded empty even to him. “I am. I just… I don’t know how.”

The confession hung in the air, brittle and raw.

You sighed, the anger slipping into exhaustion, your voice softening. “I don’t need you to be perfect, Sigma. I never did. I just needed you to try. To meet me halfway. But every time I reach for you, it’s like you’re not even there.”

His hands stilled, his fingers curling tightly against his palms. “I want to,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “But I… I don’t know how to be the person you need. I don’t know how to be anything but this.” He gestured vaguely at himself, his expression filled with a quiet despair.

You stepped closer, your chest aching at the sight of him so small, so utterly lost. But it wasn’t enough. Your love wasn’t enough. “I’ve waited, Sigma,” you said, your voice trembling. “I’ve waited so long for you to meet me in this, to choose me the way I’ve chosen you. But I can’t keep waiting for someone who doesn’t even know if they can try.”

The tears pooling in his eyes didn’t fall, but you saw them, glinting faintly in the dim light. He finally looked up at you, his face pale, his lips parted as though he wanted to speak. But nothing came.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words shattering as they left your lips. “But love can’t fix what you won’t even fight for.”

You grabbed your bag, the silence between you suffocating. Sigma didn’t move, didn’t stop you. He only sat there, his hands gripping the edge of the bed, his breath shallow and uneven as the door clicked shut behind you.

And then the stillness consumed him.

Sigma let out a shuddering exhale, burying his face in his hands as the weight of it all crashed down on him. He wanted to chase after you, to say the words he could never seem to find, to promise he could be better. But deep down, he knew the truth.

He had always been too small for this world, and now, he was too small for your love too.

a/n: HERE ML!! it’s not as angst-y as my other works but i added more characters so maybe you’d feel good!! lmk if i did it wrong <3 lowkey in love with kunika’s part

[ay-chuu]

He wondered that if there was a thing he wouldnt do it for you... but even when he was thinking it he realised how his pride is crushed for you. But did it matter he wondered. While you were in another's arms, did his sacrifice matter or did it just made him more pathetic.

Or did it matter when you kissed your's ,truly, in front him; who was also yours... truly...

☆

-> (Bsd) DAZAI, Ranpo, Poe, Chuuya ; (LnD) RAFAYEL, Xavier, Oh lord... Zayne ; (Obey me) SIMEON. SIMEON... Solomon, Lucifer, Diavolo, Barbatos ; (Twisted wonderland) Malleus, Leona, RIDDLE, Cater ; (BNHA) Amajiki, Shoto, ...Deku ; (Genshin) Scaramouche, Thoma, Kazuha, Zhongli, Neuvilette...

...And the other mans that you 'love'

[hyaha-ha-ha]

TW - Implied Character Death

This takes place right after the end of the chapter 114.5 :D

[ms-dead-inside]

Do you ever think that Ranpo accidentally lets out, like, major secrets because he genuinely forgets what these less-intelligent life forms can and cannot figure out for themselves?

"Oh, it was so obvious I thought everyone already knew it and was staying silent out of politeness."

"No, we didn't know! And why would we stay quiet over such a matter???"

"I DON'T KNOW HOW MANNERS WORK!"

[uravitypng]

coworker ranpo knows exactly how you feel about him even though you try your best to hide it from him and the ada

coworker ranpo constantly shows of in front of you, prideful of his intelligence and his newest achievements

coworker ranpo wants your attention all the time.

coworker ranpo who's too lazy to do any paperwork so he spends his time talking to you instead. you need to focus on your work but you can't bring yourself to stop talking to ranpo, especially when he initiates the conversations

coworker ranpo likes bringing you along to his cases so he can show off to you

coworker ranpo who always knows when you've had a bad day, instead of trying to cheer you up with words he'll offer to share his snacks with you. everybody who overheard in the office immediately stopped what they were doing, shocked and in disbelief, when they heard his offer

coworker ranpo who will seriously craves kissing your lips after you've eaten something sweet. that lollipop you were just sucking was one of favourites and he can't find any others in his snack pile, he's sure you'd make it even sweeter.

coworker ranpo rests his head on your shoulder while he sleeps. you don't know if he's really asleep or if it's just a front to not do any paperwork

coworker ranpo misses you when you suddenly don't turn up to work for a couple of days

coworker ranpo who does like teasing you and messing with you, whenever you make mistakes or you don't know something he'll be there but his comments never seem harsh when directed at you.

coworker ranpo who likes getting a reaction out of you every time he stands too close to you or praises you. he likes watching a shiver run down your spine and a bashful smile on your face which you try and hide it by looking away.

coworker ranpo will invite himself to places you're going and tag along. "you're going shopping? let's go now because i need more snacks."

coworker ranpo doesn't seem that bothered when he starts getting your hopes up that feelings might be mutual. that just means you try to find ways to spend even more time with him than usual and he enjoys your company

coworker ranpo thinks you're smart enough to realise they're not mutual and that hope you have is only fleeting

coworker ranpo has a sweet spot for you

coworker ranpo has no intention of changing the current dynamic you share. you're his favourite coworker.

[drearycrow]

NSFW mdni

Poe slowly thrusts into you as he puts his full body weight on you. The way your cunt takes him so well is driving him insane. It feels like you were meant for him. This is the 5th time this month that Poe asked you to come over. He shouldn't be doing this with his best friend's fiance. He should've stopped months ago when he saw the ring on your finger but he couldn't stop indulging in you. Soft moans and whimpers are echoed into your ear as he thrusts harder. He gently takes your hand and rubs his finger over your engagement ring. "Please call off the engagement with Ranpo and stay with me. I love you my dear." He whispered softly into your ear. Your phone buzzes as another call comes from Ranpo. You reach out to answer it but Poe tosses it to the side. "Stay with me." He repeated over and over again like a chant, thrusting harder and faster into your cunt. You chose to ignore the call once again. Poe bites your shoulder as he fills you to the brim with his seed. You finish shortly after him. Poe snuggles up to you, not wanting to leave your warmth.

Ranpo tosses his phone across the room when his call goes to voice mail. He wasn't an idiot. He knew exactly what you were doing with Poe. He knew from the beginning that you were having an affair with Poe after he introduced you to his best friend. There's nothing but emptiness in his heart knowing about your affair. He sinks down onto the floor and hugs his knees. He buries his head on his knees, weeping softly.

[bee-writes-n-spins]

on the other side of that metaphorical one-way mirror, is a trembling little boy. is a fearful child.

he's so scared. so scared they'll see past the facade he puts on to imitate those around him. so scared they'll see his true self.

that mirror is the only thing about him that shows confidence.

but then he meets you.

you're the only one who can see through as if it's a window. you're the only one who can hold that small child and tell him it's okay.

please.. just tell him it's okay..

RANPO, ango, poe, kokichi, UZUI, giyuu, and any of your falsely confident favorites!

[rosalinesurvived]

Fukuzawa's so fucking funny to me i cant even. He's insane. Raised up in a state sanctioned military school. Raised to master several martial arts styles and taught to master a sword since he was a kid. Didn’t go to war because he hated the army hierarchy. Stopped being a government’s catspaw because he realised liked killing people too much and Thats A Bit Fucked Up. Mind you, not that he was killing people, that he liked it. He can get so angry that people stop their cars on the road mid-movement on the road in horror at his rage. He's a freak magnet. He meets Ranpo and thinks of 50 different ways of killing him. His act of helping a 14 year old with no job, no home and no parents is to offer him assistance as a bodyguard. Free for once. He's insane. He then builds up an entire agency of gifted people and gets into several wars to assist this kid. He killed the Minister of Justice’s father. This is never addressed beyond the guy framing the Agency for mass murder (including his own). He likes cats. His main shipping partners are the maybe-pedophile main villan of the thing they're directly enemies with and also his also-main enemy ex-bff military dude with a time travelling stabby stick who kills his not-grandkids. His childhood friend of thirteen years started to hate him because Fukuzawa refused to fight a full on fucking military war with him. After refusing to fight a war he decided to skip a step and just become an assassin. He thinks you should’nt critisice other people’s food choices. He steals all of his other ex-husband’s kids in their divorce battles. He wears a haori, yukata, tabi and zori plus is a trained swordsman in modern day japan. His afformentioned ex-bff wants to make him into the leader of the world because he thinks Fukuzawa’s an uncorruptable person. Fukuzawa liked murdering people.

[milkshakesmoothiee]

In love with your Ranpo fics fr, could I order another Ranpo fic? Maybe something similar to unrequited love again (⁠ʘ⁠ᗩ⁠ʘ⁠’⁠) but this time from his perspective

❝𝐈𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮?❞

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐠𝐬

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐄𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, (𝐘/𝐍) 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐒𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠... 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 // 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

【ＳＦＷ】

GENDER NETURAL BUT AFAB READER sorry :')

NOT PROOF READ !

REQUESTS ARE OPEN ! check the bottom of this post for information <3

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

Ranpo Edogawa, it was hard to describe him... He was definitely special, to you. There was just something about the way he'd happily say your name as he would run up to you with the latest snack he'd find... Or how he'd ramble about his day to you... Or the way he'd call you his favorite assistant.

He definitely knew how to make someone smile... But he also knew how to make someone feel dumb.

It's been... How long since you've known this guy? How long have you been trying to make it obvious that you liked him?

For someone who called themselves the world's greatest detective... He could also be clueless.

How many gifts, snacks and treats, have you left on his desk since you've met him? How much do you have to deal with his cockiness and tease? How long. Have you waited. For him to say. Three simple words?

╰┈➤ ❝I love you❞

Maybe its time you give up. There's no point in trying. He'll just never notice it, huh?

Or maybe he has, but just doesn't care... Maybe he just doesn't see you anymore than just a friend.

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

Ranpo stepped into the Agency a few days later, ready to be visited by your great smile and a big hug from you ! He always loved it when you'd give him attention, it was a different kind of attention compared to the other agency members.. similar to that same respect that he had with Fukuzawa.

"(Y/NN) !" He called out to you, noticing how you were at your desk, not jumping to greet to him, like you often did. He didn't suspect anything at first.

You turned to him with a straight look, no smile at all... "Yes?"

"wellllll?" He dragged along, holding his hand out. You were silent for a moment before pulling a small lollipop from your pocket and placing it in his hands. "That's it??" He questioned, disappointed. You often brought him big and new things from different stores and bakeries. Besides, didn't you promise him a surprise a few days ago??

"I don't have anything else on me," you spoke before turning your attention back to your computer, typing away and choosing to end the conversation there.

Ranpo stared at you for a moment, quiet.

He didn't want to question it, so he chose to ignore it and sit down at his desk. 'Maybe you're just feeling down. Or having a mood swing.' he thought to himself while he put his legs up on his desk and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

.

It wouldn't take long for Ranpo to notice a pattern after just a few days. You seemed to be ignoring him more and more. You gave your attention to the work and other members instead of him.

What, him jealous? No..

Why would he be jealous? He's the world's greatest detective ! The thought of love just didn't sit right with him. He was too busy helping dumb little cops with their cases to get into that business ! ...right?

That night, he stared up at his ceiling, not seeming to fall asleep as he thought about your pretty face or how you'd smile at him... Or the way you'd pamper him with more attention then he could ever get compared to all the other agency members combined.

...

...maybe he did miss you, just a little.

...

What felt like forever, only a few weeks, since he's actually hung out with you, he's decided to confront you about this! Obviously there's something upsetting you that he's not knowing about? It's that easy to see!

"(Y/N)." His voice had called out to you as you were ready to enter the Agency building. You turned to see him standing with a frustrated and upset, yet saddened, look on his poor face.

"yes-?"

"why are you ignoring me." He cut you off, not wanting to wait any longer to know the truth.

You were quiet to say the least, but not surprised. ".. whatever do you mean?"

"don't act stupid, (Y/N). I can easily pull out my glasses and use my ultra deduction if I wanted to." He paused with a sigh as he looked up. He had noticed a small leaf fall from the sky, the wind carrying it as it fell on top of your head. He couldn't help but smile a little, but he was still serious about getting an answer. "But I want to hear the reason from you."

"... You tell me, Edogawa." He was a little shocked by you calling him by his surname. That was.. a different approach. Slowly he pulled his glasses out and pushed it up the bridge of his nose, staring at you quietly.

"... y'know, you could've told me all that time, yeah.. I was bound to.. deduce it eventually.."

"..I know." You lied.

"..so why didn't you?"

You were quiet for a moment before pulling that leaf, that fell on your head, out of your hair and holding it in between your fingers. Ranpo didn't like the friction in the air, it oddly felt intense to him. Maybe it was just the awkwardness between you too... But he didn't understand why it had to be like this. "...I don't know."

"no, you do know."

"..I guess," you paused and sighed, letting the leaf fall to the ground. "So what now?"

"..is it too late to say I love you..?" He spoke under his breath, the smallest tint of blush on his pretty face.

"..yeah."

"..you've lost those feelings, huh?" You nodded your head while awkwardly smiling at the ground, your hands were held tightly together. "..sorry. I was an idiot."

"let's just stay friends..."

"..ah, of course."

It hurts to be the greatest yet feel the worst.

︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵

REQUESTS - I am accepting any requests for any character for the following fandoms:

Bungo Stray Dogs, Genshin Impact, Danganronpa, Ninjago, Southpark, Obey Me, 7 Deadly Sins, Tokyo Revengers, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Death Note, Walking Dead, Demon Slayer, Assassination Classroom, Hunter X Hunter, Komi Can't Communicate, Diabolik Lovers and Doki Doki Literature Club

I will write any of the following: smut (all characters WILL be aged up), fluff, crack/joke, specific plot, angst, HC's, BL, GL

Do not expect me to write any of the following: intense gore scene, sexual themes that are disturbing to most people and anything that will get me banned for a specific and obvious reason.

I accept requests for any character from any of the fandoms I have named :)

[oyostol]

No dad pt. 2

[yurgemini]

Just realized the parallel between Ayatsuji and Ranpo

---------------------------------------------------

Ranpo: I am a person surrounded by monsters

Ayatsuji: I am a monster surrounded by people

Good day, everyone :)

[iovetecchou]

bittersweet / ranpo edogawa

prompt... "Don't raise your voice at me."

contains...! angst, breakups, slight comfort, making ranpo cry... sorry...

GN Reader.

1,000 words.

“Ranpo?”

Nothing, not even a glance your way.

“Ranpo!”

Silence once more. The only sound that filled the room was the noises emitting from his handheld game.

“How long are you going to ignore me?”

No semblance that your words were even getting through to him. Ranpo could be so frustrating at times like this. You understood that he was hung up on a case. But, each time he hit a roadblock like this… he would shut down.

You’ve been with him long enough to know what made him tick. The only problem was… your patience was wearing thin. You understood that everyone needs their time and space. But… Ranpo would neglect you and your relationship an immeasurable amount of times.

You were starting to feel like you came in dead last on his list of priorities. How many more times would you be able to put on a mask of contentment? Pretending that his lack of concern for you didn’t affect you in any way?

“You know what, I’m not dealing with this right now. I’ll crash at Yosano’s place tonight.”

Still nothing. As if you were talking to the void. You swallowed a lump that had formed in your throat from holding back your tears. You felt pathetic. Getting emotional from being overlooked like this. But… being disregarded by the one you love most hurt worse than any physical torment you’ve ever been put through.

You hurriedly packed all your belongings that you would need for your overnight stay. Blinking back tears and scoring your bottom lip with your teeth; in an attempt to silence your cries. Ranpo heard your soft weeping. Finally breaking out of his trance.

He turned in your direction from where he sat on the sofa. Taking in your disheveled form as you hastily threw on your coat. Slinging your duffle over one of your shoulders. And making your way to the front door. Ranpo quickly shot up off the couch. Catching up with you before you could slip out the door.

“Wait, y/n. Don’t go.”

Frustration coursed through your whole body. Your back was facing him as your hand clutched the doorknob fiercely. You could feel his presence looming behind you as the unsettling silence sunk in once more tonight.

“Don’t go? It took me almost leaving for you to finally care?”

You hiccuped out. Turning on your heel, finally coming face to face with a seemingly puzzled Ranpo. “What are you saying? I’ve cared this whole time. I was just…”

You scoffed. He couldn’t even give you a proper explanation? “Just… what, Ranpo? Just too invested in that damn video game to give your partner the time of day?” His eyes shot open at your words. Emerald orbs were now boring into your own.

“It’s not like that, and you know it. I just needed some time to think. This case it’s-“

“I don’t want to hear this excuse for the millionth time, Ranpo!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me.”

Ranpo flinched, taking a step away from you. The second your words left your lips, you regretted it. You didn’t mean to explode the way you did. The last thing you wanted was to startle him, no matter how frustrated you were in the moment.

“Ranpo I- I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-.”

You reached out for Ranpo. He tensed for a split second, which you noticed. Your regret was eating away at you. You cautiously reached for his hand. Grasping it within your own before you spoke up once more.

“Ranpo… I’m really sorry for shouting at you, I am. But… I still don’t feel right about all of… this.” His head snapped back up in your direction. Eyes locking with your own. You noticed tears began to pool at Ranpo’s lash line.

“You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?”

His voice was barely audible as the tears spilled freely. Rolling down his reddened cheeks. It hurt you to see him distraught like this because of your actions. But you had to do what was best for you.

You knew things weren’t going to change. You’ve brought up your concerns to Ranpo countless times. Yet nothing ever seemed to alter. Always false hope and empty promises. He wasn’t ready for something committed like this; but you were.

“I’m sorry… but… I think we just need different things at the moment. You may want to be with me, Ranpo… but it's not what's best for either of us right now. I feel like we hold each other back…”

Your words hit deep. Ranpo felt like he had been stabbed through the chest with the way his heart ached. It hurt more than anything because he knew what you were saying was nothing but the truth.

Ranpo knew he struggled to meet your needs and make time for you. He knew it. But that didn’t mean he was ready to let go. He wasn’t ready to lose you. Not now… not like this.

“Please… don’t go… I still love you.”

He grasped onto your hand tightly. Ranpo knew that if he loosened his grip… he would be letting go of you and your relationship for good. You took in a shaky breath, bringing your free hand up to wipe away the onslaught of tears that continued to roll down his face.

“I know… baby, I still love you too. But I have to do this. For both of us.”

With that, you placed a chaste kiss on his lips. For the very last time. Pouring all of the love you had left for him into it. Ranpo sobbed against your lips. His faint whimpers tore your heart in two.

As you pulled away, his grasp on your hand finally loosened. As much as he hated to do so, Ranpo knew he had to let go. You couldn’t bare to see him so distraught any longer. You quickly turned on your heel, swinging the door wide open and leaving without another word.

[littencloud9]

on road trips, new beginnings, and dazai discovering what it means to have a family

🦐 gen, 2.1k. featuring bad music, a chaotic snack shopping trip, and fukuzawa being the Dad™️

🦐 written for @starrynightarchive :) happy birthday vi!!

[hyaha-ha-ha]

Ranpoe angst ranpoe angst yeayyy !!! ⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾

This is supposed to take place during Ranpo's first visit of Poe's manor

[mncxbe]

Could you please write a Poe x f!reader x ranpo? Can be all together or separate, can it be either with a insecure reader or just them cuddling together?

This was so cute istg I decided to write both the separate and together ^^ Hope you like it. Sidenote the story I referred to in Poe's part is "The Murders in the Rue Morgue". y'all should read it it's really cool♡

Sun and moon ☽𖤓

𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐, 𝑷𝒐𝒆 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff♡/ light angst to set the scene

°☆○

𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐

It's been a few months since you started going out with the world's greatest detective. You got acquainted with him through Poe, a common friend, and instantly hit it off. And how could you not like him? He was fun to be around, highly intelligent and above all, a good person.

You felt such great pride whenever you saw his smiling face on one of the billboards that adorned the streets of Yokohama; which announced that once again he had helped prevent a bombing, the kidnapping of an important political figure or a heist.

Although he was usually busy with cases until late in the evening, when he came home he was energetic and cheerful. Your boyfriend always inquired about your day and actively listened to what you were telling him, showering you with sweet kisses and hugs whenever you were upset or stressed.

And yet, you failed to see what he saw in you. What could possibly be there to like about a wannabe writer who couldn't even find a part time job at a café? With each week that passed the feeling of doubt was growing stronger and you were becoming increasingly insecure about your relationship.

Of course, your observant boyfriend could tell something was wrong but he couldn't figure out what exactly it was. So one day he simply decided to ask you.

"Hey, Y/N. Can I ask you something?"

You were currently watching a sappy movie with him and lounging on your cushioned couch; his head rested in your lap as you gently ran his fingers through his coffee-coloured hair.

"Yes of course, dear. What is it?" you replied without averting your eyes from the TV.

"I was wondering if there's anything bothering you lately. You seem a bit tense and distracted."

His sudden question took you by surprise and you instinctively squeezed your thighs together.

"No, not at all. I'm good" you lied, but your attemps to conceal the truth were futile. Ranpo could tell that you were hiding something from him.

"Sugar" he spoke again as he straightened himself "Please talk to me. I don't like seeing you like this." There was nothing you could say so you remained quiet, gaze fixated on the glowing screen.

As a response to your avoidance, Ranpo's shoulders slouched "Did I do something to upset you, love? If I did I'm sorry please talk to me."

That was all it took to make you face him. Hurriedly taking his hands in yours, you finally looked him in the eyes. "No, dear. You didn't do anything wrong, I promise."

"Then why don't you spend as much time with me anymore? I just can't figure out why you're so distant all of a sudden. Do I not make you happy anymore?"

Your heart shattered at the sound of his words. His voice, although calm, was laced with frustration and doubt and you felt your eyes and neck burning.

"Baby no wait don't say that. I love you a lot and you make me very happy." you babbled out, cupping his cheek with a trembling hand.

"Then what is it?"

"I guess I'm a bit insecure" you finally confessed in a cracking voice "I don't understand why you like me so much. You're so amazing and I'm just, well... me."

"Oh sugar. How could you say something like that?" Ranpo's gaze softened as he pulled you into a tight hug. His hands caressed your back as he continued speaking. "You're the most caring and creative person I've ever met. I love your kindness and how supportive you are and I'm so lucky to have you in my life so please, don't say such things about yourself, okay? I love you."

You began sobbing, crystal tears damping the front of his shirt. "I'm sorry, Ranpo." you mumbled as you returned the hug.

"It's alright love. No need to apologize." he chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. He used his index finger to raise your chin, making you meet his gaze as his thumb gently brushed over your tear stained cheeks. "Hush now don't cry. I don't want to see my pretty girl sad."

You choked back your sobs and pulled him into a kiss, which he gladly returned.

"That's more like it" he smiled lightly as he pulled away, gaining a chuckled from you.

"Thanks for reassuring me, dear. I needed it.". You nesteled against him, placing your head atop of his chest as his lithe fingers lazily interlocked with yours.

"Anytime, sugar cube"

𝑷𝒐𝒆

The silvery glow of the moon glazed the room in a soothing, ethereal light. You gazed at the empty spot next to you, delicate fingers ghosting over the cold bedsheets; from the room next door a soft, scratching sound echoed faintly as Poe's fountain pen's nib scribbled the paper.

You were accustomed to your partner's habit of staying up late at night, working on his novels until the break of dawn, but you still longed for his presence.

"Edgar?" you called out in a sleepy voice "Could you come to bed, please?"

"As soon as I finish this page, my love. I have a few more lines."

You mumbled a quick "a'ight" before closing your eyes; no matter how hard you tried to stay awake, your eyelids felt heavy. One of your arms reached to the other side of the bed and grasped Poe's pillow. You snuggled the soft cushion, relishing your partner's scent.

It seemed like an eternity has passed before your boyfriend finally entered the room. Upon laying his eyes on your sleeping form, a smile rose to his lips.

"My love" he hummed, seating himself on the mattress. "Could I have my pillow back?"

His voice half awakened you from your slumber and you flashed him a warm smile.

"Edgar you're here" you said as you snaked an arm around his waist. Poe took the hint and laid down on his side next to you. You quickly discarded the pillow and pressed your whole body to your partner's, head nesteled in the crook of his neck.

"Don't get too comfortable now. I still have to go take a shower." he said in a silvery voice, trying to push you away but you wouldn't buy it.

Your lips brushed over his sweet spot as you left a trail of feathery kisses along his neck "Please don't go. I missed you love"

Poe sighed loudly and wrapped his arms around your waist, earning a smile from you. "You do know how to get what you want, don't you?" he chuckled, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

After a couple of minutes he turned to his back and gazed at the ceiling. His face was illuminated by moonlight and the halo of dark curls framing his head made him look like a fallen angel.

"What are you thinking about, love?" you inquired, leaning your head on his chest as your arm lazily wrapped around his torso.

"Just the novel I'm working on. I'm a bit stuck on a part."

"If you want to you can tell me about it. Maybe it helps you organize your ideas better."

"You know what, that could actually help, Y/N"

He started telling you about the protagonists and summed up the novel's plot: it was about a detective who decided to solve a strange case, the gruesome murder of two women in their apartment.

Due to your sleepy state you weren't really paying attention to the narrative; his voice was slowly but surely lulling you to sleep. The steady sound of his heartbeat was the only thing that kept you grounded. But not for too long...

"You still listening, love?" he eventually asked, noticing how you haven't said anything in a while. You gave a small nod, cuddling closer to his side and he immediately knew you were almost asleep.

Poe's heart was literally melting like wax next to a burning flame. He gently caressed your cheek with one hand, tucking a strand of hair behing your ear.

"Goodnight, my darling" he whispered softly as he pulled the blanket over your bodies. "I love you"

𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐𝒆

Ranpo and Poe were "rivals", a term the latter liked to use instead of "partners". It was true that at first there had been some tensions between them, but now they worked together on almost every case.

The only thing they still competed for was the title of best boyfriend. Almost each day you returned home from work one of them had a surprise for you; a handwritten love poem from Poe, a glazed chocolate donut or a bouquet of flowers from Ranpo.

"Hey, Y/N. Aren't I the best boyfriend in the world?" asked Ranpo one afternoon as you were lounging about on the sofa. He was leaning against you, head resting on your chest.

"You're good, Ranpo" you replied playfully, deliberately not indulging him.

"I know I'm good" he pressed "But don't you think I'm the best?"

You chuckled lightly, the tips of your fingers gently caressing his arm. "I love you both equally, Ranpo. I can't compare you".

From the other side of the couch Poe groaned: "Hear that, Mr. detective? She loves me as much as she loves you. I consider this a win."

"I still think she likes me better tho" replied Ranpo as he cuddled closer to your chest.

You gave Poe an understanding smile. The novelist was often the one who backed down during these little arguments hence Ranpo was acting so childish.

With a playful curl of your finger you motioned Edgar to come closer to you and he meekly obeyed, a deep shade of pink tinting his cheeks. He carefully wrapped his arm around your shoulders as not to disturb Ranpo and smiled lightly.

"How about we go to dinner tonight. Just us" he proposed, his voice a mere whisper "My treat"

Before you could reply Ranpo's head snapped towards Poe, a smirk dancing on his lips "This attempt to win Y/N heart is futile. I've already foreseen your plan and ordered food at home. It should arrive in half an hour or so."

The novelist grit his teeth but you could see the glimmer of adoration in his silvery eyes. No matter how many times Ranpo intervened with his plans, he still admired his ability to predict his actions.

You burst into a mirthful laughter at the sight of Poe's expression. "God you look like you saw a ghost, love". You swiftly hooked your arms around your partners' necks and pulled them into a tight hug, causing them to yelp.

"You two are something else, you know?" you giggled as you smooched their cheeks, earning a different reaction from each of them: Ranpo smirked, his gaze lingering on your plump lips while Edgar blushed heavily and covered his face with the back of his hand.

Just as the detective was about to initiate another kiss, the sharp buzz of the intercom caught your attention.

"That must be dinner" you chimed, briskly slipping from their embrace. "Be right back, darlings"

After paying the delivery guy you returned to the living room carrying the two plastic bags. A savoury smell came from the unopened boxes, making your mouth water as you carefully placed them all on the wooden table next to the sofa. Ranpo had ordered bonito sushi and pork gyoza for you, some noodles for Poe and sweet curry and donuts for himself.

You ate dinner in silence before going to bed; as usual, Poe was sleeping on his side facing you, his slender fingers lazily interlocked with yours while Ranpo spooned you. You soon fell into a dreamless sleep as the detective chanted sweet nothings in your ear and caressed your waist. You haven't slept this well in a while.