#I’m so sorry for the sad shit

[simp-is-here]

Reaching For Hope: Dazai Osamu x FemReader

Warning: HEAVY ANGST, before story miscarriage, self harm, ptsd, struggling to cope, probably ooc Dazai, hope at the end, if there’s anymore please let me know

Summary: After the two of you go through a devastating loss Dazai tries his hardest to try to bring you back and see you smile again

(A/n: I am terribly sorry for anyone who has ever gone through this, and I’m sorry if I trigger or make anyone upset with my writing. I hope I didn’t inaccurately write this, I’m very sorry if I did and will do better in the future)

No matter how much he reaches out to you, there was always something that pulled you back.

He sat beside your chair, telling you about his day. But just like before you only stared out the window blankly, not even your breaths broke the silence of the room. Your hand was loosely laying in the hold of his grip, not even a twitch of acknowledgment.

“-And then he asked why I wasn’t done my paperwork.” He chuckled glanced back towards you, the slightest bit of hope that you’d laugh at the story like you used too.

The hope was once again crushed by your distanced gaze towards the window. You had been like this since you found out, your words stopped, and even when you did look at someone it was as though you were looking through them.

A soft knock on the door disturbed the silence, a nurse held a clipboard to her chest and walked a couple steps into the doorway.

“Mr. Dazai, I’m very sorry but it’s time for her to sleep.” She told him, putting the clipboard down and making her way over to you

You stood with her help, as though you were a ragdoll. The covers were draped over your body before the nurse made her way back to the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Dazai told you, kissing the wedding band on your hand before exiting the room.

After the nurse closed the door he stopped her before she could continue her rounds.

“When can I take her home?” He asked her, he had been asking this question for what felt like months

“Soon, we just need to make sure she’s not a danger to herself.” The nurses calm tone made his frustration build

He tried his best not to squeeze her arm, with a quick recovery he let her go. Waving her goodbye as he goes to leave.

“But…”

He turned at her words, wanting. no. needing some good news.

“If you get permission from the doctor you can take her out for a little bit. Some familiar faces might cause a reaction. Just remember to keep an eye on her, and make sure she has paper or plastic stuff so she doesn’t see herself.” She informed him, patting his shoulder before continuing with her rounds

••••

“Atsushi hasn’t stopped asking about you. Everyday I come into work he asks me how you are before anything else.” Dazai says as he teases the white haired boy in front of him

“Hey! It’s not everyday.” Atsushi replies, his cheeks warming a bit

“It might as well be, it’s like your new routine.” Dazai comments, hoping to get at least a look of amusement from you

“He’s right, you do.” Kyouka said bluntly

“Huh!? Well, maybe I ask a lot.” Atsushi scratches his head with an awkward smile on his face

You haven’t replied to anyone yet, your gaze was fixated on the bun that was on your plate.

“Dazai!” Kunikida’s voice echoed a bit

“Hey Kunikida. Come to join the party?” Dazai asked with a fun wave

He came up to the brunette and started shaking him by his collar, steam practically coming out of his ears.

“Don’t think you can get away with leaving all your work unfinished! I came into the office only to find all of your work on my desk!!”

The violent shaking caused your coffee to fall over, ruining your untouched meal and spilling onto your lap.

“Are you alright!? Here let me clean it up.” Atsushi panicked, wiping the coffee with thin napkins so it doesn’t spill anywhere else

Kyouka took the plate and the coffee cup, and went off to find a place to toss it out.

“Hey, uh. I’m out of napkins. Does anyone know where they have more?” The white haired boy asked holding the soggy paper in his hands

“Well don’t just hold those, throw them out before you make an even bigger mess.” Kunikida told him, letting go of Dazai to find more napkins

“Don’t think you’re getting away with this Dazai.” He quickly scolded once again

Dazai held up his hands plastering a smile onto his face.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

When he turned back to face you, you were gone from your seat. He looked around but couldn’t find you.

“How much coffee was in that-“ the blonde got cut off by the look on Dazai’s face

“What’s-“

A crash alerted everyone’s attention to the bathroom, fear overtook Dazai as the crashes continued.

‘So she doesn’t see herself’

‘So she doesn’t see herself’

‘So she doesn’t see herself’

He slammed the door open only to see you repeatedly slamming your arms into the mirror, tears flowing down your blank face.

“Y/N!” He called, going over to you, trying to pry your hands away from the broken mirror

You yanked your hands back and kept slamming them into the shards, blood seeping from your skin and onto the counter.

“Stop!” He managed to turn your body away from the mirror but was greeting by the harsh slap of your hand

He froze in place, the sting still lingering on his cheek. Slowly he turned his head back to you, the blank look in your eyes was replaced with regret and guilt, your mouth opened no words came out.

He guided your head to his shoulder and held you close as your sobs left your gasping into his coat. He followed you to the floor when your knees gave out, he caught sight of the paramedic in the doorway ready to take you back to the hospital. He raised your head from his shoulder and wiped your tears away.

“We’re gonna get up, okay?” He told you, your nod in response would have made him overjoyed if not for the circumstances

He got you up and led you to the ambulance, blocking your view of everyone’s pity filled expressions, it would only send you further down this road of madness.

The pain he felt as he was washing your blood off his hands, your home felt so empty without you there.

He wants so desperately to reach out to you again, but he’s losing hope.

••••

Time after that incident merged together, he had been allowed to see you again 2 weeks ago, the routine of visiting everyday came back.

Everytime he was there you were in your usual spot staring out the window, but now that the blank look was gone he was finally able to recognize the emotions hidden in your eyes.

Longing

When you went to bed he looked out the window from your chair and knew what you were staring at, behind a couple of trees was the park that the two of you met at, back when everything was simple and sweet.

With permission from the doctor he walked you to the park, revealing where you were visiting as though you had been wearing a blindfold. He sat you down at the base of one of the trees, the stars twinkling above you.

“Now, I know I’ve never told you this but, I’d been watching you for a bit before we met.” He admitted, raising his bandage covered arm to point at an area

“You would always be right there, you’d be reading, painting, bird watching, everything you did was always in that spot.” He placed his hand back down beside yours

“Then finally I actually met you, do you remember how clumsy you were? I was reading when I suddenly got run into by this girl in the most wild looking shirt ever she dropped paint all over my shoes. What was it again that I compared your shirt to?” He asked himself, trying to remember

A hand placed itself on his, interlocking the fingers.

“A carpet.” You said

He turned to you in shock, when he looked at you finally you were looking back at him. The corners of your mouth twitching a bit.

“Yeah.” He said breathlessly

He rubbed your hand with his thumb and smiled to himself.

“I liked those shoes too.”

The snort you let out was like music to his ears, he couldn’t stop himself from letting a tear fall at the sight of your smile, no matter how small I was, it was still your smile.

You placed your head on his shoulder, fiddling with his fingers. His soft lips kissed your head, speaking silent words that had finally grown loud enough for you to hear.

Your words spoke back as you kissed the ring on his finger, locking your fingers together again once you set your hands back down.

He didn’t need to reach out to you anymore, you were finally here with him.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

(Please do not post my work anywhere else without mentioning that it’s written by me)

Thank you for reading. If you have any requests just send them to me and I’ll try to write them to the best of my ability

And remember you are a fantabulous human being and that is my opinion to which you can not change my opinion so better just accept that you’re an amazing person who is doing a fantastic job. Keep up the great work. Have a good day or night or whatever you’re reading this at

Request

[irlplasticlamb]

kazia parkerowska aka spider star is an 18 years old polish doomer art student who got bitten by a radioactive spider and then convinced (khe khe forced) into a superhero role by her kooky hippie auntie majka. woohoo. nothing better than to save the world when you don’t give an absolute shit!

prints + merch + commission info

[itrulyhatethisworld]

i just wanna cut everyone off and rot away in my bed

[lakrimasx]

I’m a terrible person and everyone I love is suffering because of me

[anxietywasright]

"Whats wrong?" What isn't.

[ourlifesstuff]

The thing about bpd is …. I don’t know if my feelings are real or if I’m overreacting and that’s devastating

[stealingyourbones]

Spent so much time making sushi for dinner and was so excited to have a funky little sushi roll and eat it like a burrito but then my nori ripped apart mid roll and I had to eat it as a salad and apparently my brain doesn’t like the texture of imitation crab + seaweed and rice rn :(

[girlyteengirl16]

when i remember the most hurtful memory and all of a sudden the hole in my chest reappears

[dark-nimbus]

Spoilers for season 5

TW: character death(ish)

Spartan kicks your door: WHO WANTS TO BE SAD?

So between Hizashi and Aizawa both work like five jobs: Hizashi has his radio station, being a pro hero, and teaching; Aizawa has being a pro hero and teaching

Now if they had just started as teachers it would make sense that they have extra jobs because teaching doesn’t pay shit (support teachers and push for better wages, seriously. It’s bullshit how little educators get)

However, both started out as heroes, and I have to at least hope that hero work pays well enough for you to make a liveable wage. So why the extra jobs?

Sure the radio show could just be a little passion project, and teaching could just be to fill up empty time, but I want to add something more depressing to the mix

What if the reason they work extra jobs is because they made a pact between the two of them to provide for Oboro’s family after he died?

They were so close during their hero training, and I know Aizawa especially would feel so much guilt over what happened

They would’ve done everything in their power to make sure the Shirakumo family didn’t have to worry about a thing

[mooseonahunt]

The way I wanna see Luis go completely apeshit and just start doing things that he wouldn’t do in canon. In canon we know he feels immense guilt for his past and wants to make up for it all. We see him trying to do good over and over again. He wants to redeem himself and prove he’s changed.

But a part of me so badly wants him to kinda just,, lose the plot for a hot minute. The whole “be the monster they always said you were” kinda ordeal. He gets left for dead after the Krauser attack and nobody came back for him so he’s kinda bitter about it. I know it would be out of character because of what we’ve seen him go through and do, but… I do kinda wanna see it happen anyway.

[itrulyhatethisworld]

i wish i could stab myself over and over again

[lakrimasx]

Being miserable is so familiar, this is who I am

[anxietywasright]

I need to stop checking my phone every minute no one loves me

[un-pearable]

krypton is a gaping hole in kal-el.

clark kent is, according to his driver’s license and his about me blurb that prints increasingly smaller on his corner of the new dailyplanet.com, a classic sweetheart from western kansas with a bachelors in journalism and a one bedroom half bath three streets and a bus ride away from the daily planet in the heart of downtown metropolis. clark kent is celebrating his recent win - getting the printer to work without the hinge suffering a sheer fracture - with an extra sugar packet in his second cup of joe for the day and humoring his next desk neighbor’s heckling over it.

kal-el — superman — is the man receiving the mayor’s accolades with the world and the laser focused glare of the police chief weighing on his shoulders. according to, kal-el is,

clark kent is the well-meaning dork who never quite grew into his size and was bullied in high school, when asked he recounts being too sickly to join the football team and too unpopular to get over it. clark kent arrives early and works late to work off his four and a half years of student loan debt. clark kent has childhood friends, and an ex-girlfriend, and a budding romance with the abrasive, dyslexic, isn’t-she-just-lovely lois lane at the desk next to him who’s recently recruited him as her partner-in-foiling-crime.

superman — kal-el — has a baby blanket wrapped around his shoulders, a hunk of metal in a barn a couple thousand miles away, and a name with syllables even his mother can’t pronounce. a logo on his chest that he does not know and a dedication to love and truth and saving that is deeply, entirely human.

krypton is an aching absence in kal-el. krypton is the word he carries in his mind for when he fumbles his keys and almost breaks the doorknob, for when he hunches and smears his glasses. krypton is the lack of an explanation. krypton is, simply put, not. krypton is to kal-el not what kansas is to clark kent. kansas excuses the overfriendliness and the impromptu vacation days “to care for his ailing mother” and the handiness with a tractor. krypton is the torch they carry alongside their pitchforks when the bludgeoning begins. krypton is the response when the tragedy is unpreventable, when the wariness pitches into fear.

krypton is the world he holds in his heart when he can’t help but wonder. krypton is the sword his enemies hold over his head — a condemnation, a promise, a hope — and lord over him. the world is trapped in memories not his own, preserved in the perverted motives of those who would trade lives for tradition.

krypton is, later, eventually, a bridge. kal-el, an ambassador from a culture he’s borrowed to the one he was fated. clark kent, a haven. krypton is a girl in a spaceship of her own, fleeing from a krypton that was.

[camgoloud]

you ever just. become overwhelmed by a sudden out-of-nowhere wave of tenderness and affection and longing for reconnection directed towards someone to whom you no longer speak for Very Good Reasons

[tragedykery]

[ID: the prophecy from percy jackson and the lightning thief transcribed into tengwar, tolkien’s elvish script. the prophecy reads:

you shall go west and face the god who has turned / you shall find what was stolen and see it safely returned / you shall be betrayed by one who calls you [a] friend / and you shall fail to save what matters most in the end.

/end ID]

ipa transcription + rambling under the cut!

this was originally practice for my phonemic english tengwar mode with inherent vowel schwa but it got. a bit out of hand lol. tenchnically the mode’s still under construction but that’s mostly bc I’m running into issues with the guide I wrote for it (mainly font & accessibility issues)

both the ipa and the tengwar transcripts are based on how I personally would pronounce the prophecy if I were to read it aloud slowly & carefully. which is to say I don’t sound that much like a stuck up ass irl lmao. the ipa is mostly based on geoff lindsey’s transcription guidelines for standard southern british, with a few adjustments. also I didn’t use stress markers in monosyllabic words bc I’m lazy

ipa (so warning for screenreaders):

jʉw ʃal gəw wɛst and fejs ðə gɔd hʉw has təːnd | jʉw ʃal fɑjnd wɔt wɔs stə́wlən and sij ɪt séjflij rɪtə́ːnd | jʉw ʃal bij bətréjd bɑj wʌn hʉw koːlz jʉw frɛnd | and jʉw ʃal fejl tʉw sejv wɔt mátəz məwst ɪn ðij ɛnd