So, India Is Dying.

I pulled Dazai!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

I love him and his antics so much <3 who flirts with a lion and then gets bitten <3 he does, he shouldn't be trusted in any public spaces please (read: PLEASE) keep him away from any public spaces <3

Quotes from she:

"I find that people are much more afraid of living - because there are more chances of being in pain. Not many fear death, but many loathe pain."

"If I gave you my heart you would chew it until it turned blue, and all the beautiful tapestries inside had been discolored, all the sweet melodies would turn into cacophonous shrieks. That is why I'll never give it to you."

"Do you think death is greedy and selfish, or lonely?"

"Some days, I feel a deep sadness for all the things I could not do or see. I stand outside and watch the sunset because I'm afraid it won't look the same tomorrow."

__________

Hopefully I'll finish her doc in February or something 🤩✨ I've actually loved working on her, she rivals my old OC for MHA, I spent four years on that one 🧍🏾‍♀️ The thing about BSD is that you get a range of authors, so you really need to think & analyze their philosophy and idealogy they display in their writing and poetry.

Lotte, WIP

Confessions Of Memories. | • 7.

1. | 2. | 3. | 4. | 5. | 6. | 7. | 8.

Days had started overlapping with blurred faces and rotting emotions that dried on the hill that was her memories. Her feet could only remember one dance, and that was to shuffle around the room of scrolls and books. Her mind was clattered, rearranging the books in pointless positions.

"You've been so mindless, gosh! Take a week off, that should be enough." Her co-worker sighed.

Please don't fire me.

I'm ting my best. I promise.

The sun made its way down the sky as she left, leaving her key with them. Her body was as heavy as broken heart. Her eyes were burdened with bags of dis-ease, yet empty with confusion.

One person was to be forgotten, yet they kept disappearing. No matter how many wishes of her mother's she pushed herself to fix, she was still left forgotten.

She slid the door open, letting her hair down. She glanced at the hairpins, hopelessly rolling them around in her hands. The house smelt of burnt rice, the flowers that grew outside dulled without water. Maybe she could tidy the house.

But she couldn't bring herself to do it. Her body just felt too heavy.

"Jiji? Are you there?" Xiao asked softly, peering his head through.

He saw her, quietly glancing at the window he was perching on. He exhaled in relief, his eyebrows relaxing.

"What's wrong?"

"I wanted to come and personally thank you, but you weren't there."

"Just, my memory has gotten foggy."

Are you beginning to forget me?

"Ah." He stopped.

"Yeah."

His hand clenched, his lips twitching with a frown. His heart choked in his chest.

Summer.

The hot night wafted the area with a starless night, and a lonely moon. The wind brushed his scent onto her. She smiled, despite her chest aching. The emotional agony was sitting at the back of her mind, the dull reality of her eternal life being paused by his presence.

He brushed kissed her forehead, as if to kiss her doubts away.

Of course it could never work.

But, she'd like to pretend. The temporary feeling that grew, only had so much space.

"Please stay, Xiao."

"Call my name, whenever you need me." He looked at her once more, his hand resting on her head softly.

With that, the wind that burst around her left only a hint of him in the room. Once again, she was alone.

Her bed made her hostile. What nightmare was on the menu tonight? Whether it was marble or molded faces, she didn't want to see it. What could she do? Beg?

"Mei?"

"Who else brings you to the beach?" She chuckled.

"This is your favourite moment at the beach, isn't it?"

The sun spiralled into the ocean, the sky tinted with setting grey. The sand was cold, and damp. The small rocks were littered across the vast area. Her face was missing once again, but she could see her expression.

It was smothered.

"You have a good memory." Mei pranced.

"Sometimes,"

Sometimes I can't remember want I want to.

"Sometimes?"

"It feels like a curse."

"How can having a good memory be a curse?"

Li looked felt her eyes burn, as she grabbed Mei's arm, her grip pleading.

"Because whatever I remember never makes me happy." She sniffled.

"It's tiring. I'm forgetting everyone. I don't want to. I don't want to!" Her voice was absolute, the beach dead with her resolve, Mei silent.

She sighed, patting her head.

"How much happiness are you going to sacrifice?"

You don't have to live like this.

-

Okay I was thinking recently about the fashion within BSD, and what if the creators of their clothes are creators of fashion books? Like the one immediately coming to mind is, 'The Glass of Fashion' by Cecil Beaton??

Ohmyg OHMYG the blending and hair lighting 😭🫶🏾

RAMUDA

DAMN IM BACK LIKE KINDA ILL PROBS GO DEAD AGAIN AFTER THIS but i tried watercolors with ramu and im crying it turned out so good GRRRR folo4mor like damn im so good

my commissions are closed but i'm selling those mfs for 40€ to practice dm if interesteeddd i can also ship them to you :3 another exampl under the cut that was actually commissioned afghds ok bye

also since i've been like super dead i'd appreciate reblogging for a little boost so i dont flop hard msjfsd thank you

Uhhh 🧍🏾‍♀️

Should I make a BSD OC dump?-

"Is There Anyone Else You Can Call?"

UHM this has been in my drafts for a while so ‼️ Enjoy‼️ I haven't edited this and haven't really looked this over either so 🧍🏾‍♀️ This is from months ago, I don't have any other written pieces in drafts DJDJ

A white ceiling. How crude. 

"Sorry, miss? We can't reach your emergency contact. Is there anyone else you can call?" 

Ah. The only remaining contacts were those that she hadn't talked to in a decade at best, forever at worst. The rush of noise blinded her ears, as she hopelessly ran through names. 

"... Dazai Osamu." She sighed. Should she cry at her stupidity? Or should she cry at her misfortune? 

Could she even cry, in this state? The physical cauterised her emotional wounds, a gentle but unnerving ease that she succumbed to, becoming a shell of herself. 

-

Like a doll with a soul, she woke up. The scratchy fabric brushed against her thin fingers, her hair still tainted by her own blood. Lotte suddenly regretted her actions - perhaps she shouldn't have called anyone at all. What could they do for her? Sleep restlessly as a sign of affection? 

She sighed. The gothic hand of sorrow that stitched her emotions tightly had fallen limp, reducing her to a needy child. A craving so disgusting, a gentle love she so wanted, for someone to waste and kill their time by her side. 

In spite of her childlessness, she could tell he would never arrive. He could never love like that; he wasn't that person. There was no space for her, and for him there was none either. 

The room was so white it looked blue. The walls stared back at her, the click of shoes passing the doors, an overwhelming sense she was alone. All of her contacts were dead and useless. She had become - no, made -  an insentient doll, one that could not be remembered with fondness. 

"Lotte?" His voice called out. That annoying and wretched man had appeared once again, despite her best assumptions. Why had the heartless brang her comfort?

Dazai walked closer, calling her name once again. Her eyes grew hot, her nose flaring. She sobbed, her body like a plastic bottle, sniffling and gasping as if she was drowning. 

"There's other ways to tell me I smell bad, okay?" 

"It's not that!" She said through her unpaced tears. 

__________

California girls, we're undeniable 🍒🎶✨

trench coat jason !!

UH - UHM uhm UHM I- UHM 🫶🏾❤️???????

yo.

Bsd Oc 💀💀

His name is Alyosha Karamazov, and i know that you know where from he is inspired