🇩​​🇪​​🇱​​🇮​​🇻​​🇪​​🇷​​🇾​⦂┆ ° ♡• ➵ ✩ ◛ ° ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥"ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ, ᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ" {ᴛᴇᴇᴛʜ - 5 ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ} ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥"ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ, ᴄᴀɴ ɪ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ?" {ꜱᴘɪɴᴇ - ᴡᴇꜱɢʜᴏꜱᴛ} ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ "ɪ ɢᴇᴛ ꜱᴏ ʜᴜɴɢʀʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ" {ᴄᴀɴɴɪʙᴀʟ - ᴋᴇꜱʜᴀ} ⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇ What You Need To Know: ❥ Reader: Gender Neutral ❥ Mature Audience: Only ❥ Requests: On ⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇

Yet again Ranpo Edogawa, his rival even in the matters of love. He watch as you idly drifted off into space, a faint blush dusting on your cheeks, as you twiddled with your thumbs. All because of Ranpo, and he was forced to watch, knowing the one that he held dearest to his heart, didn't feel the same for him, that they would sooner or later abandon his side. Leaving him with this wretched sense of emptiness. That he himself often read about and even occasionally wrote himself. He wondered which type of story this would be the kind where the friend got the girl? Or when the crush got the girl. Who would the readers root for? He hoped it would be him, yet he knew the likeliness of that. Yet one day as he stumbled across something he realized their were somethings only he could do. Now who knows what would come next to befall on 𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓡𝓲𝓿𝓪𝓵

After being caught in Dazais trap, he is forced into isolation, white walls, white floors. That he wished to splatter red onto. Restrained as if he were an animal, stuck in the same pose as he had been before, although he had allowed that person to capture him. He wondered just how long he would be stuck like that, and their you were (L/n) (Y/n) asked to look into him, to look into his head really. He smirked at that very thought, as he could easily see their intentions in sending you. You come by day after day, both looking into each others mind, the gears turning. Before slowly Fyodor looked into your heart, your past. Everything about you, a growing interest, a growing obsession he's well aware of what he's feeling, he accepts it. As he slowly digs deeper and deeper into your mind, who knows what will happen now that he has his hands on you who can say. He will have his fun, playing this ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇ with you.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ ᴏꜱᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ "ʀᴀᴡ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ꜱᴜʀʀᴏᴜɴᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ᴄᴏɴᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴ, ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇᴅ ɪᴛ'ᴅ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇꜱꜱ." Sheer cracked white, faint imprints, the soft warmth of the substance, filled across the skin of his hand, submerged in the insides of his friend. An injury never faulted Dazai, hardly ever unintentionally that is, injuries lathered on his skin, in failed attempts of himself, do the wounds bleed now? A gnawing painful warmth falls the sides of his face, clutching his friend to his chest does he bleed to him. Biting the insides of his cheeks, does he feel himself waver, in any resolve for a better ending then that proposed, choking back a sob, does he pull the sides of his face, to bare white. "ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ɴᴏ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʙᴇɪɴɢ. ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇᴀᴋ, ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀᴘʜᴀɴᴇᴅ. ɪ ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴊᴜꜱᴛɪᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴇᴠɪʟ...ʙᴜᴛ ꜱᴛʀɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀꜰᴜʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢ" The comment was almost comedic if not void of the pretense, however Dazai followed his words even beyond the grave, in black he attended to him, visiting on the effective day it'd be normalized. Clutching an umbrella in hand, gripping at the cloth of his chest, never did Dazai want to suffer, or be in pain, in death, a cal

You were kind to him when no one else was, you volunteered at the orphanage where he had gotten abused. Everyday, you knew of what happened yet you couldn't do anything to stop it, you tended to his wounds, you were their for him, giving Atushsi as many material objects as emotional things. When you had heard he'd been kicked out of the orphanage you frantically looked for him. Searching for him hoping you'd find him. Yet that was no longer necessary soon locking eyes with him, and trust me he had missed you so much, and now that he is no longer restrained by so many things. He will make sure that you'll never leave him. Cover is not mine, nor characters. I merely modified them.

This never should've happened, it never would've happened, hadn't it been for a few change of events. You never had meant to be the item of obsession for the Silent Rabid Dog, you never wanted to, yet that was never an option, as soon as his eyes were set on you, he couldn't tear them away. He had never once known love, how could he possibly know that what he was doing wasn't love but obsession, but would it have even changed anything? If someone had he wouldn't have even cared, still deeming it as a weakness. A chance encounter is what it was. That is what led you to your demise, to your own life traded for that of a human but to nothing but a pet, a dog. The cover, pictures, and characters do not belong to me, I just modified them and the plot.

{Dazai is still in the Port Mafia. In this case this is the other possibility of Odas death, instead of turning to the other side he decided to just the opposite. To stay in the Port Mafia, he saw Odas death as not an awakening but just proving what he already knew, the world is cruel and horrible place that their was nothing that anyone could ever do to fix that. Not even himself so why bother? Instead he continued to work as an executive completting all jobs, setting his well planned out traps} Dazai is manipulative, cruel, obsessive. He never put much effort into anything at all, scratch that, nothing. He didn't care for his life, all he wanted was a slow, nice, easy death, unlike others he didn't wish to have an effect on the world. He already understood well enough his impact on this Earth. He bloodied it, and he still will. Yet a simple change of things, a simple series of events, and he had met you. A person so interesting, so different from so many others, you were their right in front of him, just inches away, he reached out and soon enough you were in his grasp. His dear belladonna♡ Hope you enjoy♡

What is love to you? A question often asked, the mystery question that no one can really put an answer beside it. What lengths would one be willing to go how far? He himself doesn't understand what he's feeling, what is slowly circling around him, what is slowly eating away at him, and all he had to offer, all that grounded him. It was a never ending pit, that somehow still continued to grow all the more dark, murky. Was it love? He doesn't know, it was the right form of it, yet it was love no less, within the rather broad category of the subtopic. It was wrong it felt wrong, but how could it feel so right. Your presence was enough for him, was is the key word here, he wanted more. But he's scared, he doesn't know whats happening to him, he doesn't understand it. He wants to make it stop, no matter which way he has to, whether he is forced to shove it all down, or simply put it to rest, yet it can't stop, it wont. Even if he manages to hide it, it will only continue to grow, until it spills out until it overflows, until something shatters, whether it be sanity or bones, who could say. What happens then? You'll find out. He means no harm, he can't help it. 𝓗𝓮'𝓼 𝓢𝓸𝓻𝓻𝔂