sillyytashii
sillyytashii
tashi !
20 posts
part time uni student, qualified clown ✩°。 ⋆⸜
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sillyytashii · 13 hours ago
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It's Yuri Day!! I offer you Nina x Toku ~ 💎🌸
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sillyytashii · 15 days ago
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A Giant Stone Statue (Balbal) Found in Kyrgyzstan
A balbal (stone statue) with a height of up to 3 meters was found during agricultural work in the Ak-Bulun village of Tyup district in the Issyk-Kul region of Kyrgyzstan.
Balbal, is the name given to the tombstone that was erected around the grave or some of the kurgan people for the memory of the person in ancient Turks.
Erkin Turbaev, 60, discovered the balbal on October 15 in the evening. When the plow suddenly broke on something, he was preparing to plant potatoes. Turbaev made the decision to dig it out and discovered a more than two-meter-long stone statue at a depth.
Many Balbals have been found in Kyrgyzstan before. Many stone warriors (balbals) of the nomadic Turks are found in Çolpan Ata and Karakol on the shores of Issyk Kul. It is estimated that the balbals were erected in the 6th century. These grave markers in Kyrgyzstan and throughout Central Asia were erected by nomadic Turkish tribes, and almost all of the balbals in Kyrgyzstan are distributed in the Chuy Valley.
The Balbals to the sculptures of the Central Asian Turks, usually in the form of a sword and figure, usually carved on a piece of stone, symbolizing the enemies that the warrior had killed, and the people believed to be his servants in the other world, planted around the tombs of the deceased warriors at the time of widespread preservation of the validity of the shamanic religion.
When the number of these stones is the right of the dead person; the power, the courage, the hero of the hero. The balbals, which is prevalent in the pre-Islamic period, left its place to gravestones after acceptance of Islamic religion. Balbal word is a word from the Old Turkic language and means Bal+Bal (honey + honey), ie hit, cigarette, lighter.
The stone balbals in Kyrgyzstan, which are located on the outskirts of the townships of Sai and Bulak villages, are exhibited in the Kara-Batkak museum.
Historian Zhanbolot Abdykerimov said that many historical monuments can be located on the territory of the rural municipality.
“There are historical kurgans (burials) that date back to the 3rd century BC between the settlements of Ak-Bulun and Frunze. There are such kurgans in Fergana and Almaty. There is historical evidence that the ancient city of Sarybulun [Chigu or Chiguchen – in Chinese sources, the “City of the Red Valley”] was in the eastern part of Issyk-Kul,” the historian noted.
According to Abdykerimov, that the statue has special marks: inscriptions on the head, a pendant in the neck area and a hand in the middle indicating belonging to some title. There are pictures on the back and a belt. A short sword similar to an akinak is drawn. Such weapons were actively used during the Saka period. It is difficult to determine without archaeologists to which period the balbal belongs, the historian noted.
Balbal, which was slightly damaged by tractor drivers during excavations, is 2 meters 70 centimeters long. It was stated that such stone sculptures had not been encountered before in the village.
By Leman Altuntaş.
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sillyytashii · 2 months ago
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from that one sonic screenshot
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sillyytashii · 2 months ago
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Piccolo in Dragon Ball Daima
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sillyytashii · 2 months ago
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Utah
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sillyytashii · 2 months ago
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new dragon ball movie idea: these two meet
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sillyytashii · 2 months ago
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Nahare, depending on how it’s written, could mean like. Idk how to really translate the severity of 無 in English rlly. It means like nothingness, complete and desolate. To be completely devoid of something, of anything. 晴 refers to like. Sunshine, sunny weather, etc. so 無晴, if that’s the kanji used to write it, would mean Completely Void of Sunshine which is a very dramatic name for Shin. It’s edgy, evil sounding. Which would be reason enough for him not to use it anymore and instead go by Shin, which is derived from the Chinese word for God. It’s more suitable for his new life as a supreme kai and a sign of leaving his past as a demon behind. If that’s the etymology of Nahare, I wonder if Shin was born from a golden apple after all, or if he was born from a black apple and destined to be a makaioushin (would this localize as Demon Supreme Kai? Evil Supreme Kai? I have no idea) instead, but was able to overcome the evil nature he would have been assumed to have from his birthright. It really makes you think.
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Not that Nahare would be written in Kanji of course. It’s more likely written in katakana as ナハレ like all Glind names seem to be, even Shin is written as シン instead of 神, but the etymology comes from words using kanji. This would also make Shin one of the only Glind with a name that doesn’t come from an archaic form of “to be” or “to exist”.
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sillyytashii · 2 months ago
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my baby boy 😭😭😭🥺💖
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screenshots that i am very normal about
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sillyytashii · 3 months ago
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Giant lion's paws at the entrance of Sigiriya Fortress, the only remaining parts of a colossal lion statue.
Sri Lanka, Anuradhapura period, 5th century AD
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sillyytashii · 3 months ago
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im afraid this is how we gonna start sounding at this rate
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sillyytashii · 3 months ago
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i love zenji so much, why u so nonbinary coded. also the green pigmented makeup ARE U KIDDING MEEEEE guys it matches the hair it matches the ha- explodes with mind ‼️🤯
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sillyytashii · 3 months ago
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Gold and amethyst ring, Khmer (Cambodia), 11th-12th century AD
from Sotheby's
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sillyytashii · 3 months ago
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Gold and rock crystal ring, Khmer, 9th-13th century AD
from Sotheby's
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sillyytashii · 4 months ago
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happy birthday rui 😊😊
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sillyytashii · 4 months ago
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before the coffee gets cold
tags: subaru kagami x gn!reader, fluff, soft, cafe date
word count: 780 (my longest piece yet ╥﹏╥)
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subaru was the embodiment of perfect imperfection. he liked to think of himself as organized—modestly, of course—and to everyone around him, he was. maybe that was all that really mattered: how others perceived him. but today, for once, he was slipping.
the administrative tasks for his house, hotarubi, had piled up, leaving him running late—not just with work but with something far more important: time with you. he had suggested this outing, insisting that you needed a break from your relentless inspections, moving from one mission to the next. and truthfully, so did he. but subaru was the kind of person who never acknowledged how much he pushed himself—always carrying more weight than he let on.
when he finally arrived, slightly breathless yet still composed, his eyes sought yours with a quiet apology. but you simply smiled. you understood. the café was just as he had described—small, peaceful, tucked away from the world. according to him, they served the best matcha, and as you settled in together, the weight of the day slowly melted away.
“sorry i was late…” his voice was soft, almost hesitant. “is the café to your liking?”
you met his gaze and smiled. “it’s lovely, subaru. thank you.”
a quiet moment passed between you, filled only with the faint hum of the café and the warmth of shared company. you both ordered matcha, the delicate scent of freshly whisked tea wrapping around you like a gentle embrace. then, a soft patter against the window caught your attention.
“oh, look—it’s started to rain.”
subaru exhaled a small chuckle, resting his chin against his hand. “it seems the rain follows me wherever I go…”
you glanced at him, the corners of your lips tugging into a soft smile. “it seems that way, yes.” a pause, then a quieter confession. “it’s comforting, though. like you, subaru.”
for a moment, he said nothing—just stared at you, eyes widening slightly, caught off guard by your words. then, a small, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. a comfortable silence settled between you both, broken only by the waitress placing down your matcha.
“so—”
“i—”
you both started speaking at the same time, only to pause, eyes meeting with a flicker of amusement.
“oh no, you go!” you insisted with a small laugh.
subaru shook his head, lips twitching, “after you.”
“well… i brought a book with me today. it seemed to fit the mood.”
“oh?”
you lifted it from your bag, turning it so he could see the cover. “before the coffee gets cold. my friend recommended i give it a try!”
he leaned in slightly, inspecting it. “it’s quiet cute, i like the little cat detail.” a thoughtful pause. “how convenient—i brought a book, too.”
“oh? and what might that be?”
“a collection of japanese poetry. it reminded me of zenji.”
you giggled. “ahaha, you’re right! it suits him perfectly.”
“well?” subaru tilted his head slightly, amusement dancing in his gaze. “shall we read?”
“lets get to it!”
⋆˚࿔ 🍵
time slipped by unnoticed, the quiet between you both warm and unspoken. occasionally, you’d exchange a passage or share a line that resonated, lingering on the imagery together.
finally, subaru glanced at his watch with a faint sigh. “my, the time…”
“back to the dorm, huh?” you murmured, stretching slightly, reluctant to leave the cozy atmosphere.
“it seems that way.” he glanced toward the window, where the rain still drummed against the glass. “and still, the rain doesn’t let up.” reaching for his bag, he pulled out an umbrella, holding it out to you. “here, take mine. i insist.”
you blinked, shaking your head. “n-no, you don’t have to do that.”
subaru only smiled, his tone light yet unwavering. “don’t worry. i’m used to a bit of rain.”
you hesitated, but as his fingers brushed yours, pressing the handle gently into your palm, warmth spread through your chest.
“t-thank you, subaru.” a shy smile.
“you’re more than welcome.” his voice was softer now, almost fond. “farewell for now.”
as you stepped outside, umbrella in hand, the gentle patter of rain filled the quiet between you. just before parting ways, you turned back, hesitation laced with something softer.
“let’s meet again here soon,” you said, tightening your grip on the handle. “so I can return your umbrella.”
subaru blinked, then smiled—small, but undeniably warm.
“i’d like that.”
and with that, you walked into the rain, the quiet warmth inside you lingering long after he was gone. not quite butterflies, no. something closer to fireflies. 蛍火 (hotarubi)—the glow of fireflies, or the lingering embers of a fading flame, flickering softly in the dark.
gentle, yet persistent—just like the feeling subaru left in your heart.
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sillyytashii · 4 months ago
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guys support my bestie, shes so talented and she deserves more love 🥰🥰
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Trigger warnings: fem! reader, pm! dazai, angst, blood, death, guns, alcohol, angry at waitress (abusing staff is never okay), dazai-typical suicide comments, please comment if I'm missing anything
Belladonna: silence
Word count: 3.8k
Author notes: This have been in my drafts since late November and I wanted to get it out before I turned 19 (that didn't exactly happen), so here's a birthday gift from me to you. I also apologise because all my other Dazai drafts are also angst.
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The rain started to pick up but neither of the two teens bothered to pull out an umbrella, not that they had one, or take cover beneath the restaurant awnings. They welcomed the light shower which soaked their clothing and prevented the blood that coated it from permanently staining the garments. Trailing behind the bandaged young man, who skilfully avoided the lit streetlights which would reveal the darkened red patches to an innocent passer-by, was a young girl of the same age in equally dark clothing.
“Have you ever considered leaving the Port Mafia?”
The question made the boy’s artful steps pause as he turned to his companion.
“Why? Do you plan on leaving me, Belladonna?” he teasingly replied with that classic ambiguous smile that never got close to reaching his eyes.
The girl paused, lips parted slightly as if to say something but shut just as quickly. She stood there facing him, however her eyes never met his unbandaged one, instead staying fixated on the straightness of his nose and pointiness of his jaw. After a moment of pause, the answer followed.
“Of course not, I could never leave you… till death do us part.”
The boy’s piercing stare didn’t soften. The answer was hardly satisfying considering the prolonged pause used only by those yet to master the art of lying. He said nothing though, and simply turned back around, relieving the suffocating atmosphere that unnerved the weary office worker unfortunate enough to pass by them in that moment.
The pair continued their walk once more under the starless night sky whose hopeful twinkles were slaughtered by the insomniac-inducing brightness of city-light neon.
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The office door closed with a slight click as the person failed in their attempt to enter unnoticed. The man that sat conceitedly in the plush leather chair, which looked out of the floor-to-ceiling windows, turned his calculative eyes upon his visitor.
“Ah, Dazai, what brings you to my office?”
“Why did you give orders to execute Y/N without consulting me?”
“Come now, you are smart enough to already know why.”
“I won’t let you.”
“Why? Because she is your girlfriend? Surely you aren’t foolish enough to actually fall in love.”
Dazai gave no response, only hardening his glare at the man still seated in the plush throne of an armchair.
“As an executive you should already be aware that such relationships are a weakness not needed in the Port Mafia.”
Silence from Dazai continued to pervade the room as his stare took on a bloodthirsty edge which would have unnerved anyone else.
“Let me handle this, there is no reason for you to involve others when she is my subordinate.”
“No, another executive will be tasked with the mission of eliminating Y/N and you are not to interfere. Should your personal feelings get in the way then I will have no choice but to take disciplinary action against you.”
Knowing he no longer had room to argue with his superior, Dazai reluctantly resigned from the verbal battle. Though he was sure to leave the with the stench of unfinished business, and a clear promise of defiance which certainly wasn’t his brightest idea but not regrettable to the boy.
With the insolent slam of the office door, Mori picked up the phone beside him and dialled a number. It didn’t ring long before a familiar snarly voice answered the call. “Chuuya, could you come to my office?”
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The tight dress felt constrictive around the girl who was used to her looser work clothes that provided the freedom of movement needed for her line of work. The boy opposite her, who stayed in his usual attire despite his request to dress up, busied himself with the menu although it was obvious that no words were being comprehended. The girl’s menu, wrapped in an elegant black leather cover characteristic of such a high-end restaurant, stayed in its neat form, untouched.
Without ever having removed his eyes from the cream tinted paper, “Are you not going to order, Belladonna? You’ve been staring into space for the past fifteen minutes.”
She startled out of the daydreams that violently consumed her like a starved beast and shakily grabbed the menu from its resting place only to tear apart the binding with more brutality than necessary. She quickly flicked through the pages while restlessly shuffling, from the overpriced entrees that wouldn’t be more than a mouthful to the extensive wine selection flown in from every famous vineyard in Europe, none of the elegantly printed words registered to her frazzled brain still drowned in its own paranoia heavy enough to block out the world around her.
She was saved seconds into reaching the last page by the waitress that seated them that evening and had already been waved off by Dazai prior for the two guests were then still indecisive. With a practiced upturn of the lips she patiently asked if they were now ready to order.
The boy closed the menu and handed it back to the woman, not once taking his eyes off the fidgety girl across from him, as he recited his order that consisted of the priciest steak and a bottle of vintage wine he definitely wouldn’t enjoy.
When silence followed his response, Dazai asked, “Belladonna, have you made a decision?”
The frazzled girl dared to glimpse at the eyes of her lover which she had until then avoided all evening so far. Dark pools of hollowness which took in everything they saw without giving away anything themselves caught hers and trapped them there inconsiderate of her pleas to look away.
“Belladonna.”
His voice took on a sharper commanding edge this time but still sounded light and teasing to any stranger.
“Uh, I- I’ll have the same, thanks.”
“An excellent choice, ma’am.” With that the waitress left the two teens to their uncomfortable silence.
Dazai’s mouth was moving, and the girl could just barely make out the hot air spilling from his mouth from their close distance. But his words never registered, blurred instead with the dozens of other patrons merrily chattering away till it became incomprehensible white noise. Her eyes drifted longingly to the door a dozen or so paces away and just barely obscured by the oriental plant that didn’t quite suit the establishment’s French aesthetic.
“-re you listening to me? Belladonna? I’m recounting my brush with death here, and you’re spacing out? Do you not care about me anymore?!”
The buzz finally subsided into a medley of words again, and the girl was confronted with the pouty face of her lover           whom she starred confusingly back at with owlish, empty eyes still not quite present.
“… I’m listening, you were talking about-“
She was thankfully saved by the waitress who had returned with the exorbitant wine comfortably blanketed by a bucket of ice and was placed at the edge of the table. She took the already uncorked bottle and poured the bloody liquid into two glasses then elegantly wiped the nozzle on a white cloth, the colour bleeding into the pure shade, before slightly bowing and leaving them to savour the ambrosia.
As Dazai lifted the glass toward his date in preparation of a toast, the last few drops were already sliding down the glass and past rouge painted lips.
“Belladonna, you’re meant to savour such wines. You’re lucky that slug isn’t here to chew you out for such barbarism,” he teased as his own lips kissed the glass only to slightly pucker at the unaccustomed sweet fruitiness not found in his usual choice of poison.
Now drowned in a strained silence once again, and with no attempt made by his partner to break it, Dazai decided to make the first move and asked, “how was your day, Belladonna? I was so busy overseeing a weapons shipment that I never got to visit you.”
“Oh, it was fine, just the usual boring paperwork regarding mission reports and such.”
“Aww! And without me there to entertain you it must have been so boring you were willing to finally join me in the afterlife to escape this oxidising world’s mundanity!”
An empty, sad chuckle left her chewed-up lips at the Dazai-typical comment as she placed the glass down that was already half empty of her second drink.
“No, not yet. There are still things I want to do with my life, places I want to see once I’m finally free.”
The unnoticeable twitch on Dazai’s lips lasted no more than a split second, though whether it was a smile or a frown not even the demon himself could tell. “Free? And what exactly do you mean by that, my Belladonna?”
The poor girl didn’t get out more than a few frantic stutters before they were interrupted by the waitress again who had arrived with two steaming plates of their finest cuts personally cooked by their renowned head chef himself. A look of blissful relief painted the girl’s countenance at the sudden end to a tense interrogation.
Dinner was shrouded in silence as the two quietly ate their meals while the steak was still juicy and tender, and salad still fresh and crispy. Dazai had scoffed his down with a little too much vigour (probably being the first thing he’s eaten today, maybe yesterday too), and with only a few mouthfuls to go finally looked to his partner. She, on the other hand, had barely touched her food, and was currently chewing with about as much enthusiasm as someone forced to eat sand.
“What’s wrong, Belladonna? Is the food not to your liking? You look like the slug whenever we’re forced to work together.”
“Oh, um- it’s a little dry, I guess…” she stuttered, avoiding eye contact with the boy in front.
“Really? It looks fine to me. Here, let me try some.”
The girl frantically grabbed the plate and yanked it away from the outstretched hand, the knife fell in the process with a deafening clatter. Two pairs of owlish eyes met, though one had a touch of fear that the demon could definitely discern. Sheepishly, the girl returned the plate back to the table and collected the knife from the floor while avoiding the impassive eyes of her partner.
Another minute of tense silence was thankfully broken by Dazai as he waved down the waitress.
“My dear Belladonna here says the steak is dry. Bring the chef out so he can fix this abomination, I can’t go serving anything but the best to my Belladonna.”
“Oh! Of course, Sir. I’ll bring him here right away, Sir. I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” the waitress hysterically apologised with overly exaggerated bows to the two.
“Ah- No! It’s fine, really! The steak isn’t that bad actually, and I wouldn’t want to cause them any more trouble.”
“Belladonna,” Dazai’s strict chastisement shut the girl up. “If it’s not to your liking then say so. You’ve been a mess all evening, it’s getting annoying.”
A muffled sorry escaped bitten lips.
“What are you still doing here? I already gave you an order.”
The waitress, who till now had been watching the two, turned around in a panic to escape the wrath of the demon before her.
“You know what, it’s fine, I’ve lost my appetite. Belladonna, we’re going.” Dazai stood up with a loud clatter and grabbed his partner’s hand to drag her away from the teary-eyed waitress fearing for her employment.
 “Ah! Dazai, wait!”
The boy turned around, only to address the waitress that was too distressed to move. “You can charge our meal to my dog, Chuuya Nakahara, when he visits this weekend,” he proclaimed, before promptly storming out of the fine-dining establishment. The mood, already soured by the earlier commotion, felt even worse now as all the staff were already well aware of the rumours surrounding his reputation.
The cool breeze nipped and chilled the girl’s bones to ice as her jacket was sadly left abandoned on the side of her chair back inside. Her wrist was still being painfully clenched in the vice grip of her partner who clearly had no intention of loosening his hold.
“Hey, um- thank you for tonight. Though, I need to go now, I have an early mission tomorrow and am really tired.”
“I want to take you somewhere,” Dazai interrupted as he stared absently into the distance.
He started walking off into the pitch black yonder, and while his grip slightly lessened it did nothing to ease the hand-shaped bruise forming, nor the tempest of anxiety in her stomach.
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The full moon, tinted an eerie blue, illuminated the abandoned warehouse and its surroundings just enough to make out the outline of a young man in a pitch-black coat. Obscured in the shadows was his partner, the young girl of the same age in equally dark clothing. A gentle breeze tickled the two’s hair enough to send a chill down the shadowed body’s spine (or was it the boy’s stare?). 
“Have you ever considered leaving the Port Mafia?”
The question made the girl’s eyes widen as her muscles tensed in trepidation. 
“Of course not, I could never leave you.”
She tried her best to hide behind a smile, but the rueful upturn of her lips easily gave away her secrets to the boy who could read her like a book.
“Then tell me what you were thinking of when you colluded with the Special Division?”
The girl wasn’t stunned by the statement that she had already known was coming, though it certainly didn’t help her prepare for this situation. She  stood in silence, no longer worried about the chilly evening that didn’t bother her anymore, instead more concerned for her trembling soul being consumed by the red-eyed demon.
“Answer me!”
His response lacked the subtle warmth and adoration it once had, to the point she thought all of their history together was just  an unrealistic dream that would never come true. And maybe that was so because…
Now all the fear that had been building up in her stomach and tormenting her mind was finally on full display at the sight of that all-too-familiar tarnished silver barrel. She flinched. Not the subtle jerks she had been giving all night whenever he said her name, but a jolt backwards like she was prepared to flee.
She wanted to throw up. Spill the pricey contents that unsettlingly filled her stomach across the gravel below.
She wanted to run away. Leave her life and everything- the good and the bad- behind to start anew in a foreign country far, far away from the Port Mafia.
That was the plan after all. But what did it matter now? What did it matter now that she was cornered by the man who used to whisper sweet nothings into her ear under sweaty sheets, the man who now forced her to either stare down the imposing loaded barrel waiting to dole out her inevitable fate, or the demonic, unfamiliar, red eye.
She wanted to breakdown and cry. Maybe his non-existent heart would have just enough pity to end her suffering quickly rather than continue this pointless torment. But what was she expecting from the mafia’s greatest torture specialist, the demon prodigy himself? He was probably relishing in her suffering, quietly laughing behind those watery eye mocked her for naively believing their relationship was ever truly real to him.
She wanted to give up. So tired of all these mind games and bloodshed that maybe she knew this was the only true way to release her soul from the bloodstained underworld, from all this worldly suffering she regrets enduring.
The click of the safety being turned off broke the agonizing silence. The muzzle pointed between her eyes at an almost point-blank range that even a blind man couldn’t miss. Most in her situation would be on their knees by now pathetically begging for their lives as they lie through their teeth about some loving family they can’t bear to part with, however she just stood there. Eyes were murky with tears that refused to fall, and a defeated smile graced the lips that he wished to kiss such sorrow off of because they only ever deserved joy.
“I love you, Osamu.”
The sorrowful crow whose beady black eye had silently judged the scene took flight in a frenzy as the gentle thud disturbed it. The dark liquid which miraculously until now had yet to stain the girl’s dark clothing soaked the black cotton a disturbing wet colour till the original shade disappeared in its entirety.
A barely visible stream of smoke rose from the hot muzzle as it rested by the side of the heartbroken lover.
The silence that followed suffocated the midnight air which took on the faintest hint of an irony scent.
“You can come out now, Chuuya, the deed is done.”
The shadow clad figure hesitated but didn’t seem surprised by the address from his partner. Unmistakeable orange locks came into the moon’s view for the first time since arriving at the warehouse as their owner floated down from the cracked window on the second floor.
“I didn’t think you would actually go through with it,” the ginger apprehensively replied.
“Oh come on, Chuuya, we’re partners, you should know me better than anyone, that a demon can’t fall in love.”
“Then why do you look like you’re about to cry?”
Dazai never answered Chuuya. Never spat back a teasing comment like usual to raise the ginger’s short temper in hopes of him kicking the bucket from high blood pressure. Dazai never even looked his way.
Instead, his right arm started to lift. The heavy object weighty in his hold, and the slight sizzle to his temple unpleasant, though it didn’t matter when all would be over soon. Nothing mattered anymore now that the heart that once beat for you both had gone silent at his own hands.
He was ready. Always had been for the past eighteen years. All he had to do was pull this trigger and-
“Hey!”
A swift kick to the wrist was all it took for the gun to fall from his grip with a resonant thud.
“Geez! If you were going to take it this badly why’d you kill her at all, you clearly knew I was following you.” The chihuahua’s barking never registered to his ears which still rang with the sound of his yet-again failed attempt.
“Oi, are you even listening to me?!” It was clear by the lightless eye that he was not. Chuuya seriously didn’t understand why he still bothered with this enigma of a man. Even if he was the only one who could read him, Dazai still managed to dumbfound him at times.
Though, looking back on his meeting earlier in the day, he supposed the outcome was inevitable.
“Chuuya,” the mafia don started the second his office door clicked shut, “I have a mission for you.”
“What is it, Boss?”
“I want you to eliminate Y/N. She has been caught leaking important documents to the Special Division in hopes of defecting from the mafia under their protection.”
The words clearly shocked the young man as his mind raced with any possibility that such a statement was untrue. He had met the girl several times while in the company of their mutual, Dazai, and was never once struck with any suspicion of possible disloyalty from her. Afterall, she was (somehow) the Demon Prodigy’s lover, and Chuuya knew that despite his general laziness toward work his partner would never tolerate betrayal to both him and the organisation. But Chuuya also knew better than to question the words of the boss as the former doctor would always, always prioritise the organisation’s security no matter the cost.
“I’ll see to it that it’s done,” was all the ginger could respond with.
“Chuuya… Dazai will try to interfere, you don’t have to stop him, just make sure that the task is completed. Afterall, I’m sure he won’t risk his position over some senseless feelings that need to be purged.”
With that, the young man was dismissed from the office and sent on his way to end the life of his work partner’s cherished lover.
“hehehe hahahaha!”
Chuuya was broken from his thoughts by the deranged laughter in front of him.
“Oh, hat rack, did you honestly think I could ever fall in love? Someone like me isn’t capable of such senseless feelings… no, if they do exist, they should be purged or else I might start seeing a point to living.” His tone was kept light the whole time, even his partner somehow bought it, though deep down he wasn’t entirely fooled by the lack of eye contact and the brunette’s quivering shoulders.
They stood like that for some time, in the silence of midnight which ate up the distant noise of Yokohama’s always bustling nightlife. They ignored the corpse not even five feet from them despite knowing they would have to call the cleaner to dispose of it and the blood which had somehow dried despite its unsettling size, a testament to how long they stood there.
Eventually, the silence and the cold became too much for Chuuya who had started to make his way back to the busy streets and toward home. But he stopped after only a few paces.
Dazai had not moved from his position, not even looked toward his partner, and instead opted to continue staring into the jet-black sea that perfectly reflected the moon’s azure glow.
“Hey… you coming or what?”
All he got was a hollow hum of approval in reply, though it still took Dazai another minute to finally set off. Chuuya never tried to leave without him despite his muffled grumbles of “damn, it’s cold,” and “hurry it up already.”
As they finally set off, Dazai couldn’t help but stop beside the cold body of his once lover. Her skin a ghostly pale- even for a corpse- and a clear icy blue tint to her lips that even his favourite vibrant red lipstick couldn’t disguise. And yet she was still the most beautiful woman to ever grace his sight, and probably ever will in his (hopefully) short, pitiful life.
“Don’t worry, my dear Belladonna. I’ll join you in hell soon.”
And as if it was a careless afterthought, whispered to the winds, the boy didn’t even realise the words escaped his lips.
“I love you.”
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Extra (because I really wanted this in but didn't want to ruin the vibe):
“Oh, and I’m not paying for your meal, stupid mackerel, or sharing the rest of this bottle with you after you wasted it.”
“Aww, but as my dog, it’s your duty to serve your master.”
“You- I’ll kill you!”
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sillyytashii · 4 months ago
Text
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Gold, garnet, and rock crystal ring, Java (Indonesia), 700-1400 AD
from The British Museum
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