Oh No I Like Bsd

Revamped art of Lotte :))

Despair is impossible in humans. They often are deceived by hope, but are also deceived by the notion of despair. Let me state this plainly. People fall into the depths of misery, but they grope for a ray of hope as they are tumbling down.

Dazai Osamu, Pandora’s Box

Time to go back to my roots (RWBY) after abandoning them for various things (Bungo Stray Dogs, Nana, My Hero)

I didn't even realize the show had such a large fandom on here what

REBLOG IF I CAN MESSAGE YOU 'HEY' AND START A FRIENDSHIP.

THE CONTRAST 😭

If I ask nicely who will rb this telling me what is the last song u listened to 🥺

Literary Stray Letters

This wraps up Lotte's collection of short stories. I personally found this and the first story to be my favourites, so I hope you enjoy them too.^^

Hot people?

Hot people. 😌

 Quitting.

____________

Lotte sat on the bed, Dazai sitting up. He leaned on the bed frame, grabbing the whiskey from the bedside table. The sunset bled on the sheets, pure of any stain. The stubs of a cigarette fell and sizzled onto it. The bedsheet had now learnt impurity, the ashes making the delicate fabric curdle.

The glass clinked as it was solemnly lain on the table, the glass distorting the ugly brown.

 “There’s something funny about me, “ He began, tilting his head back as he looked at Lotte. Her thin dress strap fell off her shoulder as she patiently waited for him to finish, her cigarette amber at the tip.

 “I don’t actually like whiskey. “

She stared at him blankly, no distinct change in her face. “Then why do you drink it?”

 He sighed and looked to the window.

 “Isn’t better to taste something than nothing?“

 “No,“ She puffed out, “You'll lose your sense of taste with meaningless drinks.”

“Then why do you smoke?“  He leaned his cheek on his hand, watching the sun turn her dark eyes a luminated shade of orange, a pit in the middle.

 “Because I feel less stressed.”

They looked at each other for a moment. A lock from the hairs of time had fallen, chopped with the scissors of misery.

She took the glass and squashed the cigarette into it, letting it hiss until it burnt out.

 “I'm quitting today.“ 

He fell silent, watching the soggy cigarette butt fold in the cup.

 “I'm sure healthy lungs will look cute on you. “

____

Happy Birthday, Dazai!

Confessions Of Memories. | • 4.

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

Mine never wanted me.

My father is something of a dead myth, and my mother was a criminal.

A perfect upbringing for me really.

Li Jing looked to the unfinished diary entry, the words burning through her pupils. Her eyes constricted, as she cradled herself, shoving it away with her foot. She scrunched her raven strands in her fist, as she chewed on her lip.

XXXX

My dream got eaten last night..

But I'm recovering.

"Xiao wasn't responsible, was he?" She sighed, to no-one in particular.

That was the truth. The secret that she so desperately needed to tell him. To at least chip away at his guilt- even slightly - wasn't possible. He would never know, because she would never tell him.

XXXX

I don't want to stay with her.

The page lay unfinished.

The next week after the entry, Li Jing was alone.

Loneliness plagued her life without hesitance. She dragged herself through a path that only led to more loss. Yet if she stopped, she would betray her mother. Being loyal to her mother was the only thing she needed.

She wished.

Li Jing shuffled to the door, quiet as she looked to the dawn that was illuminating him. Xiao was perched there, like his usual self. His breaths paced, body stiffly stuck in one place. She sat beside him, watching the sun glide over the debris of the moon.

"You really need to relax sometimes." She glanced at him.

"Hmph. And where's the time for that? Liyue isn't a place for rest."

"Then where is?"

Xiao hummed, looking to her arms. Her arms, were probably warm. But they had also probably forgotten him.

"Well what about you then?"

"History doesn't rest, so I can't either."

"Promise me you'll rest." His eyes clicked with her own, his tone soft.

"I'll keep the promise if you rest as well."

"Fine."

He leaned forward. He hesitated. With her eyes screwed shut, a soft warmth was pressed to her head, his sleeve dragging across the wood as he retracted. Li Jing's cheeks flushed, as her heart was pierced with ache once more.

"What are you guys doing?" The Traveller looked up to them, sleepy and worn with leftover fatigue. Xiao arched his brow, gracefully landing infront of the Traveller. Li Jing took the stairs down.

She linked arms with the Traveller, leading them away from him.

"The book you picked wasn't easy."

"Why?"

"The memories of the author are dead. None of their memories were clear."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"I'll need to meet this village's historian."

She brushed her hair rapidly, taking her two hairpins out of her side pocket.

"Who gave you those hairpins?"

"These? Oh."

"One is from Xiao."

Her face flushed red with fever. Days were blurring together as she looked to the outside, which had a quiet pond. The only thing keeping the days apart was Xiao.

His eyebrows were furrowed. Xiao leaned closer, his lips pressing a soft kiss to her head. Her eyes were heavy with fatigue, the cold cloth on her head slightly aiding her.

"Get well soon, please." He murmured, placing a hairpin in her hand.

She held his hand, a soft smile glazing her face.

"The other is from my best friend."

The summer sun was set on the water, as they padded through the sand, their arms gritty with wet sand. She paused, dirting her dress as she searched for an item.

"Mei your dress!"

" My mom doesn't care. Here! I got us matching hairpins! "

"What'd she look like?"

"I can't remember."

-

"I remember you! You must be the village historian?" Li Jing quipped.

"Yes, it's an honour to meet someone who has been documenting for centuries."

Her chest creaked with unease. She looked at his dark eyes, chuckling lightly.

"You knew the author?"

"Quite well actually. She passed on just a decade ago."

"I hoped she lived well."

"She did, being the great- granddaughter of Honghui. "

"Honghui?"

"I'm going to marry Hui! "

"You're only ten!"

Mei huffed, crossing her arms.

"True love doesn't wait, does it?"

"I can't believe she's dead. She was only 18!"

"Honghui is so distraught, he won't even leave his study."

"Yeah, he's an old name now. His tale is quite sad- moving on, you needed information for the book?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Make yourself at home."

"I'll be leaving in fifteen minutes, it's really not necessary."

She shuffled, tucking her sleeves to her side. The man glanced at her, his eyes lingering on her. Li Jing let her eyes fall to the table.

"No need to rush."

-