#misercndvs

❛     er  ------  everyone  is  busy  ,  then  ?     ❜  said  in  english  ,  as  you  don’t  know  any  other  languages  .  it  figures  that  when  you  need  to  speak  to  a  member  of  the  armed  detective  agency  ,  they  all  turn  out  to  be  working  on  something  important  .  it  surely  couldn’t  be  more  important  than  what  you’re  here  for  ,  but  you’ve  no  choice  aside  from  waiting  patiently  .

@misercndvs​ said:    “Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?” from dazai!

@misercndvs​​ asked: ❝ it is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another. ❞ from aku ! 

Scarlet’s heart lurched as those words befell from Akutagawa-san’s lips; she knew them well, she had read them an innumerable amount of times before, and surely she would continue to do so forevermore.  They were from a book, one that was absolutely integral to her development as a person, of which she constantly kept a copy on her, repeatedly reading it and adding new annotations ever since she was a child.  Until one day, when she allowed someone else to read it.  That copy was so deeply personal to her; she first read Frankenstein only a couple of years following her mother’s death, at first relating quite deeply to Victor when he lost his own mother, and set out to conquer death while his friend who seemed to embody sunshine itself tried to keep him sane, much like Tristan.  However, as the abuse from Benjamin worsened, she found herself further outcast from society, and then when her last flame of hope was snuffed out with her dear friend and brother’s passing, her viewpoint shifted. When [ she ] looked around, [ she ] saw and heard of none like [ her. ]  Was [ she, ] then, a MONSTER, a blot upon the earth from which all men fled and whom all men disowned?

The creature’s tale was of d e e p importance to her, for she too knew the feeling of being cursed with a wretched existence by an uncaring father, and having to live alone, so so terribly alone, because where there once was benevolence and kindness now lived anger and the never ending need for vengeance.  That was, until, she met someone like her, and in a desperate attempt to be FINALLY understood, she allowed him to read the story that greatly mirrored her own thoughts - that put the jumbled mess of emotions into words she herself could never even dream to articulate so clearly.  He had seen her art before, yes, but it could be difficult to understand at times, so hopefully this book could assist, she had thought, and it appeared it had.  For the first time since Tristan’s death, someone had taken a peek into her heart, understood what they saw, and didn’t run away.

She remained quiet for some time, contemplating, before finally replying.

     ❝ ...Only if that means...that you’re guilty for being beautiful. ❞ he couldn’t help how freely he let the red flush along his cheeks at the compliment. things were easier to allow when it was just the two of them.

he takes the ring pop, licks it, and sticks it to dazai’s forehead. he goes back to work. 

@misercndvs​

Early morning, she entered the room in which the man was being kept and removed her crimson cloak, setting it aside, putting on her over-sized white button down shirt that was once used as a smock, but was not repurposed for this current project.  The third consecutive day of these activities, tools laid out on the nearby table, long since bloodied, as she continued her work on the one she used to so dearingly refer to as her father.  Oh, how wrong she was.  Yes, he did take part in her creation, but he did absolutely nothing to raise her - no, quite the opposite actually.  He destroyed her; or attempted to, at least, but she only knew survival.  Yes, survival - living on as everyone else dies by your feet.  She knew the truth now, stuttering apologies befell Benjamin’s lips as he sat tied to that chair in an attempt to gain mercy, like someone confessing their sins before their G O D, but Scarlet was no merciful lord.  She was not cursed, she knew that now, but if anything this revelation only furthered her rage. 

“i’m not afraid to die.” ( akutagawa @ poe )

❛     you’ll  have  to  forgive  me  if  this  comes  off  as  rude  ,  but  ..  why  ?     ❜  you’re  coming  to  find  that  a  sense  of  morbid  curiosity  is  your  most  common  feeling  during  these  meetings  with  the  mafioso  .  you  regard  him  curiously  ,  stroking  karl’s  fur  with  a  gentle  yet  distracted touch  ,  before  you  realize  it  might  sound  less  rude  if  you  elaborate  .

❛     i’ve  never  met  anyone  who  didn’t  fear  death  ,  or  at  the  very  least  wasn’t  unnerved  by  the  idea  of  dying  themselves  .  i  write  of  death  because  i  know  it’s  an  inevitability  ,  but  i  still  fear  it  ..  i  just  don’t  understand  how  anyone  could  manage  to  be  completely  unafraid  .     ❜