#selfessness

[bellamyblake]

Bellamy Blake appreciation week

Day 5: Favorite Rebel!Bellamy moment-Bellamy refusing to let Clarke go in 3x02 and almost getting himself killed because of it

[karmicpunishment]

there’s something extra tragic about tachiharas death/turning in that it comes at the hands of both his commanders

the literal killing is done by the person who he followed for years, who picked him off the streets, who gave him orders and missions and literally changed who he was

and the orders come from the boss who took him back after he betrayed them, who had sunk his claws into his older brother and used him til he broke (something tachihara still doesn’t know)

and his end comes with not a single close connection. the black lizard squad are all vampires too, and even more so he betrayed them (even if they never knew) and didn’t allow himself to fully enjoy the bonds he made with them. his place in the hunting dogs was soured by fukuchis betrayal, and because of it he had to betray them too. he couldn’t be a hunting dog anymore. he lost two families in one day.

and fukuchi couldn’t even let him die on his own terms. he had to take his choices away one last time.

[nishihii]

actual picture of @skleech and i getting destroyed by orphan's double yoyo attack

[gen-0]

WAIT WAIT WAIT

HOLD ON-

PARALLEL???? I THINK THIS IS A PARALLEL??!

[prattham2311]

fly my heart for sky is your limit, let it thunder let it snow, stop for none, be selfish for yourself once for you have loved selflessly others

-the_pain

[reignbowarbiter]

i think baizhu is a really interesting character when it comes to his motives but something about his design and personality kinda sucks to me

[lesbianhotch]

insane how last of us was two nights ago and im still just. joel miller <333

[glassrowboat]

Selfess. Kim Dokja.

Summary: The irony, to be a reader's reader. To view his story in between breaks at work, between sick days and vacations, as words flickered before you the same way they did for him on the subway. Digital words trying to break down every little aspect of a man you know hurts inside with a raw passion. Like scraped skin meeting air for the first time. It made you want to hold him, to listen to him, to comfort him, but Dokja always held you at arms length in some way, even if it was so subtle no one but you could sense it.

Author's Note: This has no spoilers for the manhwa readers but was written for those who have gone through the entire novel

Word Count: 3500+

Written for 'Help Me, Hold Me' a collab by @tomuras

Selfishness. A human trait. One bled into society to the point it has been ingrained in every sidewalk; every ruined shop with shelves toppled over from those searching desperately for food, only to find nothing; every hand held out waiting to be held; and every moment that passes by while you're selfish enough to dare to take another breath. Possibly robbing another of their own air to fill their lungs.

Should you stop and risk apologizing?

No, there was never the time to spare.

Too selfish to stop and give those few precious seconds to another person as they cry for aid or in pure, unbridled wrath as you kill the person next to them. Throat squeezed between your bare hands even after their pulse faded away. Only letting go because you were pushed off. Having, at the time, been shoved to the ground as a murderer just like you rose a pipe so high you couldn't imagine it doing anything other than crashing into your skull as it fell.

Whenever that memory comes up, it somehow always leaves a dull ache in your head, like you're remembering the times that metal became one with your bones and brain. Shattering on impact with a sickening thud that left you feeling sick before it all went black.

That would make sense, after all, wouldn’t it? That man having been the one to end it all for you time and time again, so you never end up making it past that first scenario. (Much like a certain someone.)

The first challenge that faced everyone in this dome.

The one that made everyone in it a murderer.

Self-serving.

Self-centered.

Self-regarding.

That's what you all were.

Even him, having dared to make a request of you.

Even as Dokja rested in your lap, black hair tickling your thighs that had you wondering if shorts really were a good idea for sleepwear even if it was the dead of summer and it's annoyingly high temps that left you sweating even when a sword wasn't grasped in hand. Calluses you never thought you'd have carding through the sleeping man's tresses. Absent-minded as you kept your blurred gaze on him.

It was decided the lot of you would hole up here for the night even with the cracks in the foundation that had you second-guessing the structural integrity, but you had been assured it's fine. Like an office worker had any right to assure you of that, but you still shut your mouth at that and nodded along.

“Sure, Ugly,” on your lips. A teasing smile meeting his grimace at the moniker Dokja never failed to show his hatred for.

Good for him. He can be pissy all he wants. If anything, it just makes you tempted to take your phone out and snatch a picture. That is, if it wasn't shattered to a thousand pieces by now and tossed into the waters below. Fish food now, much like Dokja was after Yoo Joonghyuk dropped him off the bridge.

He doesn't appreciate that joke either.

You had insisted on being the one to stay up, to keep watch even as he fought you the entire way as you and the kids wrangled him into laying down. Gilyoung had kicked your shin for pointing out Dokja's eye bags as he finally laid down. White coat folded up in a bundle, far from neatly at that, and tucked under his head in place of a pillow.

This time, you chose to hold your tongue from joking about his mother never teaching him how to do laundry.

So you sat and waited, brushing off the dirt from the assault the evil little creature (or as you liked to call the kid as you pinched his cheeks) left on you. Footprint easily blending in with all the other layers of dirt you have accrued over the past few days without a proper bath. Wet wipes only proved to be a decent substitution for so long. The sun slowly dipped behind concrete towers until being swallowed away by the waters to come back tomorrow, the moon rising in its stead.

Glowing brighter than you could ever recall it doing before this world turned to shit. The lack of street lamps probably helped. Even if the stars were out, almost so close you could reach out and touch them. Card your fingers through the Milky Way like it was a pot of glitter from an arts and crafts project.

“I know you're still awake.” You finally said after you were one hundred percent certain the kids were passed out. Blankets no longer stirred from trying to get comfortable on the hard floor, and Yoosung's mutterings flowed into her habit of talking into her sleep.

Oftentimes, she would cry for someone to come hold her; even in the dead of night.

“I'm sore from that fight earlier today. And it's taking longer to get used to the concrete than I thought it would.”

“Liar. You just need to make sure for yourself that we'll all be okay.”

You waved off the messages appearing beside you at his reply. Notifications came so often that you had learned to tune them out.

“I'll take over from here. You should get some rest yourself.”

It was surprising he didn't punctuate the sentence with your sponsor's title, or worse, your name. He had a habit of doing that at the worst of times, making himself all cozy by disregarding your last name entirely and simply calling you by ... .Well, by the word that makes you turn your head on instinct the second it's called out.

By now, it was far too fuzzy in your brain to remember that first time you truly met him to recall if you gave it to him or he simply knew it.

Were you, too, a character in his eyes?

The thought had struck you many times, what Dokja saw when he looked at you. Especially now as he turned over in his spot, head propped up on his hand to look at you. Scrutinizing. Like he was reading a blue box perched right under your profile that read out:

Your name.

Your age.

Supporting constellation: Arrow-shooting cherub.

And all that other drabble that came with it.

Or were you a selfish person that he chooses to see as an ally despite having no place in his heart before the world fell?

Honestly, you had no clue which was better. At least with the latter he wouldn't know the times you cried late at night in your room, of the times you blearily made it through the day only to let the worlds between pages be your comfort as soon as the front door locked behind you, of how you would see a character so broken, so damaged and-

“No.” You huffed.

Both to his words and your own mind's ramblings. If you could bury that away the same way the Ugly King was atop that hill as wails filled your ears, you would.

“You're human like the rest of us, whether you like it or not. Got that, bubba?”

Such a different way of calling him ahjussi. Definitely a lot less respectful, but something tells you he doesn't mind as much as some other stubborn men in this world would.

“Here I thought I was a Supernatural character. That's what you like to call me with the others, right?”

At least not enough to roll his eyes at, anyway.

“I think the name suits you well. You're just missing some plaid. We can get you a shirt…or a kilt?”

“Not happening.”

A huff of a laugh escaped him, somewhere between breath of air pushing out of his lungs and the chuckles you can get from him after telling a particularly bad pun.

You two stayed like that for a minute, Dokja laying down with his eyes on you. Somehow, even with the intrusive feeling of him staring through you rather than at you, it was comforting.

Dark eyes shone in the light of the fire keeping the four of you warm. Crackling firewood as it tumbled into a new shape, a new little tent of sticks a better background noise to listen to than the mutterings as they finally slowed down for the time being.

“They care about you.”

To the point Yoosung and Gilyoung were nearly attached to him at the hip. If someone had told you those two were stuck to him on those backpacks with leashes parents used before the fall, you wouldn't have even batted an eye. Maybe even believed it for a moment there.

“Which is why you need to get some rest. The first step in letting someone care about you is letting them force you to sleep, to eat, to sit back and let them…”

Hug you.

“Help you.”

‘Don't think about yourself here’ is a great reminder as to why you pressed your lips together in a thin, impossibly straight line. Refusing to say the words lurking in your mind.

“You mean to tell me I'm not supposed to do everything myself?”

The sarcasm in his voice made you want to snatch that makeshift pillow out from under him. So, of course, that's what you do. A call of your name filling the air as he tried to wrangle it back. Something about how it's too cool to end up ruined and how he went through a lot of effort to get that.

“Last I checked, you wanted it in black!”

He was still tugging it from your hands when you heard a murmured call of Dokja's name over the ruckus you were both causing when you froze. He did, too, looking back at the kids for a moment before sighing in relief.

Just Yoosung. As normal.

“I can't rest if I don't have something to sleep on,” he whispered to you. Tone harsh, but never filled with as much contempt as when speaking to a certain regressor. That, and every other emotion he held for the man.

“But I'm cold.” You dared to say, like it wasn't sweltering hot only hours before.

Well, some did say that the summer nights are the ones that make you truly feel like you're freezing.

“Are you?”

Before you could even nod he had pulled the jacket from your hands, with enough force you couldn't help but wonder if his petty ass stacked a few coins up and pushed them into the starstreams vaults, or however that worked, to up his strength stat. Not even your grippy little fingers helped at all. Your attempts to hold onto it a forgotten cause.

Or not.

Not as he wrapped it around your shoulders with a boyish grin. Something so nice to see, his ability to smile, even if it is only to comfort you.

It would be so easy to let your head fall to the clouds and pretend he's not forcing it. But after what happened recently, another scenario passed you by like a bullet train that whooshed up your scarf and had it flying up and away to follow it even as you desperately reached out to grasp onto it with all you had, you knew that simply wasn't the case.

“It smells like male B.O.”

“Well, I do happen to be a man.” Before you could even protest, Dokja said: “despite what you may say.”

“You got laundry soap in that fancy Dokkaebi Shop of yours?”

“Actually, I might.”

You could see his hand twitching to pull up the menu to check, something you're not even sure of if Dokja is allowed to do in front of you despite the many times he has. Little to no shame about it now that he had become a constellation.

“Later. Or I'll make fun of the fact that your eyebags are so big you can carry all my trauma in there.”

“You literally just did.”

Your hand was on his face before you could even think about it, thumb brushing along the bluish skin as it became more and more tinted the longer this world stayed like this. He would stay up most nights insisting to keep watch even if he was the one to suggest everyone stopped to rest, biting at his thumb as endless possibilities swirled in that stubborn mind of his.

Does he not know it's rude to make others see him wearing himself down like that every day?

“Don't know what you're talking about, bubba.”

And this position is extremely awkward now that you think about it. Hand snapping back to your side to grab at that stupid coat to pull it tighter around you despite not truly needing its warmth. However, it did smell nice. Like him. Despite, well, the gross layer to it.

“Right…”

“You could use some eye cream. Too bad your ugly self never heard of makeup before the dome came up. Otherwise, you might have actually had a social life.”

Beyond just pretending the one he admired with all his heart was real in those moments of weakness when the feeling of being alone truly etched itself into his heart. Was a solid human being who could pat him on the shoulder as they did that awkward man hug.

“Why are you like this?” Dokja asked in the flattest tone he could manage.

“You see, it all started when my parents had sex-”

Dokja shook his head at that. His stupid bowl cut waving back and forth in just the right way that had it slightly tousled up when he stopped.

And we all had problems in this world that made us what we are now.

That's what you didn't say.

“Rest. Please.” Not a request, not a demand, but a plea. One that had your voice cracking in protest at opening up that tiniest bit without the doors to your heart being pried open with a crowbar. Of course, they'd have to get through the chains and boards nailed to the frame first.

Selfishly, you wanted him to be the one to pull those nails from the rotting wood.

In a way, he already has. (The same you know he will never fully free you of them).

And you wanted to be the one to hold the lock over his own, to cradle it, and open it not with a pick or some other cheap tool meant to get to the treasure within so easily, but with a key he willingly gives you.

To know what it's like for him, for once, to be honest with you. Even if that means to stop lying to himself in the process.

“Or I'll get a marker and really draw attention to those bags of yours. Maybe I'll even start calling you an old man and insisting they're a sign of aging. Those stories catching up with you, oldy?

“I never thought I would have missed being called ‘Ugly King.’” He groaned.

But for now, all you can do is watch it dangle before you as it shines in the light of another's hands. Dangling from a black cord. Yoo Joonghyuk. How Dokja looks at the regressor the same way you did him.

“Then I'll be nice for once and keep that nickname to myself if you lay down, shut your eyes, and fall the fuck to sleep.” Before he could ask with what pillow, because, yes, you were already expecting that question, you pat your lap. Far too used to his sarcasm to not see it coming a mile away. “Sleep.”

There was no fight, no bite back as Dokja just sighed and let himself fall down even as he was clearly embarrassed over this. Refusing to look at you like that would do anything to stop the tiniest flush you could see in his skin if you simply stopped to look. Just like you always have. But still, no fight was a good thing. Hopefully, that meant he was too exhausted to even bother because then he would have no choice but to slip away into dream land as your fingers slid through his hair. Easing him into the wakeless world.

“I'll keep watch. I promise.”

You soaked in his time, in him, as you watched those eyes drift shut.

“Last time I heard you singing Gilyoung a song.” The words were particularly muffled by your thigh, the skin growing goosebumps as you felt his breath fanning over you. Somehow, you're too hot and too cold all at the same time as you replied back with a confirmation.

“Are you asking me to sing for you, too? Does little Dokja need a lullaby?”

“Nevermind.”

“Hey, hey, no.” Your hand stopped in his hair for a moment, the dirt under your nails from earlier today so easily spotted as your eyes flicked between him and the calloused hand that has dared to take lives, but still treat him so softly. “I just don't really remember all the words. I can't look them up without wifi and all that so…”

“What do you remember?” He dared to ask.

So, for him, you answered: “enough.”

Enough for you to hum to the parts you're missing and sing the rest as that moon that had risen up into the sky slowly started to drop again. It's much like a video game where you're messing with the time settings just to continue on your quest. Your next adventure. Your next task.

But selfishly, you wanted this moment to last forever as you sang about a little baby moon shining in the sky with his funny little toes in the air.

“And he's all alone in that big blue sky.”

The lyrics had you aching to stop and to bite at your lip as Dokja drifted off to sleep, but still you continued on, because for him, It didn't matter if your throat burned or you legs went numb. Not even when you'd surely have trouble walking the next day as they struggled to pump blood back through them properly, not if it meant he got a moment of reprieve from what you knew was going to happen next.

Is this what it felt like for him watching Yoo Joonghyuk during their encounters? Each passing day went by like a sweet song that you wished to play in your head again and again until you remembered every lyric, every pitch, every note, until the ability to play it through memory alone graced you.

The same way you did the pages of his book. Quote after quote of his assurances to others that he never dared give himself still so fresh even after reading through them for the nth time.

How you wanted to be the one to tell Dokja he'd be able to get through it all.

If he only allowed it.

Only allowed you in to give him more than a moment of reprieve to sleep. To hold him, to listen to him, to comfort him. To cradle Dokja the same way you did your phone after reading translations of the novel in the dead of the night.

It's complicated to hold someone this dear, to look at them and only wish for them to have the best yet know they have been robbed of that. Know they will be robbed of even more.

But this is the choice he wanted.

And who are you to disrespect that?

Even as it has tears falling from your cheeks as you sang that stupid song again, words coming out broken between sobs you hoped wouldn't wake the children and the man you loved in a way that went beyond mere friendship, beyond mere passion for another, beyond mere familial ties.

No, it went beyond that.

That's why you couldn't be selfish, not with him, not even after all those fix it fics you relished in because at least then you'd see him happy. See that boyish grin full of pure joy and nothing else.

So you would stand on the side lines, let him view you as another character to save if he must, and hold your sword tight as it's raised to protect him.

Because, and the words came out like a croak as you whispered them to yourself, a confession between only you and the constellations above. “I love you.”

‘In lieu of loving myself.’

The fate of a reader's reader. Your precious main character.

For your selfishness, for your own broken and guarded heart, for him, this can only be said knowing he can't hear your deepest secret. No, Dokja had other things he needed to do, better, more important things than to worry about you. So you would give it all to him, no matter if it meant shattering yourself too.

[hastyprovocateur]

Mizu's a good person which is why she believes she's an onryo. There's things she's done already done that she finds reprehensible without considering that it's a consequence of being in a patriarchal, autocratic, immoral, masochistic social system where the weak are singled out and eaten alive. For eg, killing Kinuyo became a core memory for Mizu, something she finds shame in having done. She understands that Kinuyo was wronged fundamentally by her own father and Hamata but is unable to use the same to relieve herself of the guilt. She is nowhere close to the evil that actual men in the time period were (and are) and she knows this but somewhere deep down, finds it much easier to just... take the blame. Be the bad guy. Be the one at fault. Because that's all she's done her whole life. Consider that someone who has been systemically taught to always take the blame (In Mizu's case, by her mom, social prejudice, childhood bullies, her own husband) will become obsessed by their faults to the point that they can't physically operate outside those very faults. Mizu operates on this crux of her internal struggle. The needless violence she has willingly embarked on eats her inside but if she stops, all the innocent people whom she sacrificed in the process would have died for nothing which is why she persists. She's unlike Fowler who doesn't base his peace on all his children he's killed. As a man, he believes he's entitled to kill to survive. He takes pleasure is killing. Mizu doesn't. Each fights hollows her more and pushes her towards becoming an onryo. Self sabotage. It's easier for her to think she has nothing else to live for because choosing love would be so overwhelming. Being despicable is easier. Easier to kill and carry the guilt. Because if she dares to reach for love again... instead of the sword, it'll cut her deeper than any masterfully rendered blade. And if she lets go of the fight, she will have to accept that the part of her that was wronged doesn't exist anymore. Which isn't true. She still carries that pain. And nothing but her own acceptance will ease that pain. Ringo, Taigen and Akemi are seeing Mizu for the person she is now and none of them, I attest as per the writing, considered her to be an onryo until Mizu herself reinforced that. She craves their love, companionship and vulnerability but she is the only one who needs to see herself as worthy of it. Worthy of being more than just a sword. She needs to see that she is indeed a good master to Ringo, that she is a skillful, selfess comrade to Taigen and to Akemi... she can be a better man than any.

[boxytheboxu]

"A true selfess act, always sparks another" 🎁

(unfiltered version)

[thebookwassomuchbetter]

Emo about Dead Boy Detectives because this is the story of two boys who’ve experienced absolutely no justice in the world, so together, they decide to make some.

To start with Edwin-he spent the few short years of his adolescence during a World War killing boys his age, probably feeling ‘different’ and isolated and not knowing why. Then he's dragged out of bed, tied up and gagged, and taken to Hell because of it? It's beyond unfair that he, the bully’s victim, suffers for seventy years because of what they did.

And then he gets out, and he finds another boy killed by bullies–even more brutally; at least his bullies did genuinely think they were only giving him a nasty fright–at the exact same school. Nothing has changed. But he doesn't give up. He goes into business with Charles. Charles, who tried so hard to be good and probably only got beaten harder for it, by the very man who in a just world would have protected him. Charles, who was likely one of very, very few boys at that school who wasn't awful or a bystander, and was rewarded for his bravery and selfessness with an agonising death.

But he's not alone in death. And somehow, that's enough. He learns to smile and be nice and friendly when Edwin can't or won't, he spends years perfecting dangerous magic so he can carry what they need, he gets good with a baseball bat for when charm won't cut it. And Edwin pays attention to everything, reads up on how this new supernatural world works, (tries to) pull Charles back when he goes too far. They balance each other out (brains and brawn, but also, snark and charm, overthinking and impulse). They become what the other person needs, and even this terrible world becomes a bit better when there are two of you against it. Even the school brushing their deaths under the rug only inspires them (especially Edwin, I think, probably because of the horrible irony of ‘act of God’) to not let the same thing happen to other people. Together they give people the justice they didn't get. They make it matter.

[leviismybby]

You ever think Levi would ever try to run away with/for the person he loved? Whether he was backed into a corner with that decision to make or his lover forced that choice on him, would he ever just run somewhere far away, safe with his lover?

Hi there!

Hmm, I don't think so because Levi is a selfess person and I don't think he would leave the scouts hanging either, he is aware of his importance. I do think that he would try as much as he can to keep you away from it all, he would put you first but he wouldn't run. I always think that Levi wouldn't date someone in the survey corps, if he did, he would convince you to quit for his sake as well as your own. But I don't think that Levi would abonden humanity. With that being said, if it gets too much he would take a week or so off just to get away with you but permanently? No.

[mocatii]

I've been sobbing over Laika for like 2 days now because she represents so much to me. She represents the animals we sent to space to die. The animals we love. The animals we treat horribly for our own gain. Félicette. Miss Baker. Belka and Strelka. She represents the love humans can have for something. The determination we have. How cruel we can be. How selfish we are. How selfess we are to craft poems and art and statues for a dog we'll never meet.

She's our paitron saint of one-way trips, and the mother of our stars.

[alittlepassionfruit]

im actually such a sucker for "asshole" Jude. i always hate how traumatized characters are usually boxed into being innocent lambs and always sweet and never doing anything wrong and absolutely selfess. it makes the character feel like a trope instead of a complex character and it just further shows how people only accept victims when they're docile. I adore Jude's "problematic" or less than likeable qualities, it makes him feel human and it feels like a more realistic portroyal of how someone with extreme childhood trauma and PTSD would behave. And besides, every other character in this novel says unsavoury things sometimes or acts like a dick. thats just how people are.

I LOOOOVE when Jude barks back. Woof woof!

I think the book does a good job at showing which circumstances make him turn docile and insecure, and which situations make him feel safe enough to stand his ground and push back.

Jude is such a complete person. I wish he could have seen himself that way.

[kozachenko]

One very last thing: I definitely feel part of the moral greyness of this series is ZUN's writing style. On the one hand, he believes that it's easier to write selfish jerks than selfess people, because they don't need a reason to fight each other, and need to have a particular reason to help others. Yet, I also get the impression from all his comments that he admires all his creations in some way. He's never really "insulted" them in any way in the interviews I've seen. He's never stated that the world of Touhou would be better if a character was dead or didn't exist.

Honestly, that's something I really love about the series and it's writing. It's very rare to find someone who is 100% selfless in real life, and while yes fiction is fiction and shouldn't be tied to reality, I do think it's nice seeing some characters who are just unapologetic selfish assholes, because what's more fun? A nice goody two-shoes who's perfect in every single way and doesn't have a selfish bone in their body? Or an asshole who's selfish and highly flawed, but they are so unapologetically themself that it just loops back around to them being fun? It's something that really differentiates Touhou from most media where the series is willing to take risks with a character's personality even if they may come off as incredibly unlikeable. In Touhou, the likeablity of a character is second, and establishing who they are as a person takes precedent. The characters aren't made to please you, they're there for themselves and themselves alone, and there's something really fun about that (at least that's how I interpret a lot of the characters in this series).

With the second thing you brought up about how ZUN sees his characters, I appreciate how even though many Touhou characters aren't morally perfect, they aren't demeaned or seen as lesser than in the eyes of the narrative. Sure other characters may not like them at all, but the narrative itself isn't going to eternally punish them for just existing. Now that I think about it, there's never really been an interaction in Touhou where a character will outright bully and put down another one. Sure we've seen the characters harshly criticize each other, but they still don't really feel like bullying and the narrative doesn't make it a big deal. Most of the time it isn't even one sided and both parties have something snarky to say about the other one. The only character who ever really got close to bullying was Keiki oddly enough, that being her roasting the animal spirits in her pre-fight dialogue (still love that part by the way, it just gives her so much personality and I think that's one of the reasons that she stuck out to me in the first place). I definitely think that ZUN's level of respect for all of his characters comes through in the writing via the character interactions and relationships.

[questiontocertaintyofreality]

Yes bsd is a great manga and anime with thought-provoking story and great characters with philosophical senses but they aren't equal with their real life selfess. The above-mentioned writers put their thoughts into writing for years despite mental illnesses, thought floods and depressions. Some of them wanted their ideas to be remembered, some of them had something they wanted to say, some of them wrote without caring about being read, some of them addressed the world, but there was always one person that they all touched. They deserve to remembered with their ideas and ideologies or at least stories. In Japanese literature, which bsd start with, almost everyone had an anonymous pen name, and the world of japanese literature developed with sources covered up and without archives. The spread of misinformation among fans of this anime, which has very few sources compared to derivative literature and mainly features real-life Japanese authors, has to stop or literarature will be ruined. No longer human is NOT an autobiography. These authors, novelists and poets AREN'T equal with their real-life selfess. Osamu Dazai liked to give his character pieces of his personality and branch out, but that doesn't make No Longer Human an autobiography. The motivations, goals and personalities of the writers are not exactly the same. Of course, when you look deeply, the obvious connections are woven in detail, but they are not exactly the same. When I typed Nikolai Gogol into Google, bsd Nikolai came up and I realized how dire the situation was. Nikolai Gogol deserve to remember as author and with books, stories, poems he write. I mean, if you say i like Nikolai Gogol and i am a fan of Nikolai Gogol, if you don't mention the anime cheracter i want to talk with you BOTH real life author and bsd or only real life. If you mention anime so it's okay lets talk but if you don't then no, you mention real life by mention only Nikolai Gogol you can't denial this. I want to kneel at Asagiri's feet and beg to him to write on manga and anime episodes "The characters in this manga have the same names as living authors and are inspired by them, but they are fictional characters and have no direct connection to the authors." So that fanlad can start to recognize the authors as authors. Now, for Osamu Dazai and Fyodor, it is said that the character in the book creates the anime character rather than the author's selfes. I read The Flowers of Buffoonery (the first story included No Longer Human's protoganist) and I can't reject this theory with certainty. So if we know characters in anime aren't their real life selfess we also understand theories. This is important. False information about writers should not be spread, of course, this does not mean that humor should not be made or shipped, we just need to be able to distinguish the difference. Even though we say Soukoku is literally canon, we must warn those who cite Osamu Dazai's book Memories as a source.

Books and authors life CAN use for characters motivation and connection because Asagiri literally did this. Memories book ia still important for age!15 manga and story just not for soukoku

Credit: @bungoustraydogs-tr

Yes, the real Osamu Dazai was bisexual, but this has no connection to the anime. Fyodor Dostoyevsky also expressed his respect for Nikolai Gogol and quoted and praised him at every opportunity. Moreover, if the author dynamics in Russian literature are examined, it is possible that the two had a sincere conversation. (No historian has given this assurance and there is no evidence just a possibilty) Does this make Fyolai canon? Osamu Dazai imperessed by Fyodor Dostyevski. Or is Dostoyevsky a terrorist? Gogol?

....We cannot make these people, who wrote to keep their thoughts alive, appear to be someone they are not.

Imagine Osamu Dazai's situation. You are finally in peace that you never reach then you turn in to world to see peoples who look at you with no knowledge of you..

I am grateful to @bsd-bibliophile to all literature sources they archive

And if you like these NEVER stop ranting about characters, ship them and make memes. They are us, our loves and beloveds. They are bsd characters. Just stop using books as a source of ships.

What can i say bsd have a universe which ink of each letter written changes the fate of the next page. There are so much more thing to wonder