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Entry tags:
honey vanity
Title: honey vanity
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Character(s): Odasaku, Kunikida, Yosano, Tanizaki, Kenji, Atsushi
Pairing(s): None
Genre: Fluff??
Word Count: 1,000
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Dreams of a man writing by a window.
Notes: Little late putting this up here.
Kunikida rarely dreams. He was told once before that this might contribute to his level of stress - that dreams are the mind’s way of working out the troubles of the daytime during the night. It’s a reasonable theory, but not something he can do anything about.
Kunikida’s current daytime trouble is a bandage-wasting partner of his - everything else comes back to Dazai eventually - but that’s not who he sees when he shuts his eyes.
A man he doesn’t know sits by a window. Outside, the ocean is visible, beautiful and tranquil. Inside, the man taps his pen on a notebook.
“I’m sorry about him,” he says. “Dazai.”
Kunikida tenses a fraction. “Do you know him?” he asks.
“We’re friends,” the man says. “He’s actually gotten much better in the past few years.”
That’s hard for Kunikida to imagine. To be much worse than he currently is, Dazai would have to cross the line into being an actively terrible person.
“Thank you for putting up with him,” the man adds. “I know it’s hard.”
Kunikida sighs. “I have to at least tolerate him,” he says. “Don’t thank me for that.”
“...If you say so.”
He remembers nothing when he wakes up.
Yosano’s dreams are about an even mix of pleasant, unpleasant, and just plain weird. Some of her more pleasant ones are ones others wouldn’t find as fun.
She doesn’t know where to categorize this one just yet.
The man sitting by the window scratches something into his open notebook, then looks up at her. “You do good work,” he says, simply. “Thank you.”
“I know,” she says, because of course she does, she’s a doctor. The smell of the sea reaches her nose. “Have we met before?”
He shakes his head. “If we had, I couldn’t come here,” he says. “I can’t visit Edogawa or the president because of that. And definitely not Dazai.”
“I didn’t realize those three had a mutual friend.” A passing acquaintance is more likely.
“We only met a couple times - I owe the first two an apology. Edogawa especially. I still don’t know what I want to say to Dazai even after all these years.” The man looks down at his paper. “I’d ask you to forward the apology for me, but you probably won’t remember this at all.”
She doesn’t, but she does have a nagging feeling that she’s forgotten to do something important.
Tanizaki thinks of his dreams as fairly normal. Most of them are good ones, with the occasional exception, like dreaming that he’s arrived at work without remembering to put on pants. Fukuzawa’s judging stare felt almost real.
This isn’t nearly as bad as that.
“What’s it like to have a family?” the man writing in his notebook asks.
Tanizaki has to think about it. That’s not the kind of question you give a half-baked answer to, not when it’s asked so seriously. “I think… it’s having someone you can count on no matter what.”
The man nods, and shuts his book. “Wouldn’t the Agency be a family, if you thought of it that way?”
“I guess it would.” They’re not bound by blood like him and his sister, but they’re as reliable as any family he knows.
A soft smile appears on the man’s face. “That’s good. Dazai will like that someday, if he stays around long enough.”
Dazai is the most unreliable of the bunch, but even so, Tanizaki can’t imagine the group without him. “I hope so.”
When he wakes, he feels a strange compulsion to check on his sister. She’s peacefully asleep, and he sighs in relief.
Kenji’s dreams are as wild as his trains of thought. He dreams of purple elephants, of flying trains, of all kinds of things that don’t exist in the real world.
A man sitting by a window writing in a book is disappointingly normal in comparison. Kenji peeks over his shoulder to get a look at it.
He only catches a brief glimpse of what’s written there before the man forcefully shuts the notebook. “Please don’t look at my writing before it’s done,” he says, almost apologetic. “It’s not very good yet.”
“Okay,” Kenji says, and then, “Sorry,” because even he can tell when he’s been rude.
“It’s alright,” the man replies.
“When can I see it?” Kenji asks, his head tilted. “Soon?”
The man studies the cover of his notebook for a moment, then says, “Hopefully, a very long time from now. My writing isn’t the kind of thing you should be in a hurry to read.”
Kenji nods. “I’ll remember that I want to read it! And I’ll ask you again the next time I see you.”
That gets the man to chuckle, just a little. “Okay. I’ll remember that you’ll remember.”
Kenji wakes feeling well-rested, full, and content.
Most of Atsushi’s dreams are nightmares, so he treasures the ones that aren’t. Dreams of hot food, warm beds, and loving people are something to be savored.
This isn’t a nightmare, at least not right now. The sound of the ocean’s waves in the distance brings Atsushi a sense of peace.
He doesn’t try to peek at the man’s notebook, even when he doesn’t immediately greet Atsushi. Some things are personal.
“You met Dazai recently,” he says at last.
Atsushi nods.
“This is a lot to ask, but would you please help look after him?” the man asks.
It’s a strange request, and it gets Atsushi to pause. “...Isn’t he the one looking after me, though...?”
“Hm.” The man considers that for a second. “Then, you should both look after each other, as friends.”
That sounds… if not doable, then at least something that makes more sense. Atsushi swallows. “I-I’ll do my best.”
“Thank you.” The man rises from his chair. “I can’t do much for him now, but it’d mean a lot to me if someone helped him.” He holds out his hand.
His hand’s too cold when Atsushi shakes it, but his smile is warm. Atsushi smiles back.
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Character(s): Odasaku, Kunikida, Yosano, Tanizaki, Kenji, Atsushi
Pairing(s): None
Genre: Fluff??
Word Count: 1,000
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Dreams of a man writing by a window.
Notes: Little late putting this up here.
Kunikida rarely dreams. He was told once before that this might contribute to his level of stress - that dreams are the mind’s way of working out the troubles of the daytime during the night. It’s a reasonable theory, but not something he can do anything about.
Kunikida’s current daytime trouble is a bandage-wasting partner of his - everything else comes back to Dazai eventually - but that’s not who he sees when he shuts his eyes.
A man he doesn’t know sits by a window. Outside, the ocean is visible, beautiful and tranquil. Inside, the man taps his pen on a notebook.
“I’m sorry about him,” he says. “Dazai.”
Kunikida tenses a fraction. “Do you know him?” he asks.
“We’re friends,” the man says. “He’s actually gotten much better in the past few years.”
That’s hard for Kunikida to imagine. To be much worse than he currently is, Dazai would have to cross the line into being an actively terrible person.
“Thank you for putting up with him,” the man adds. “I know it’s hard.”
Kunikida sighs. “I have to at least tolerate him,” he says. “Don’t thank me for that.”
“...If you say so.”
He remembers nothing when he wakes up.
Yosano’s dreams are about an even mix of pleasant, unpleasant, and just plain weird. Some of her more pleasant ones are ones others wouldn’t find as fun.
She doesn’t know where to categorize this one just yet.
The man sitting by the window scratches something into his open notebook, then looks up at her. “You do good work,” he says, simply. “Thank you.”
“I know,” she says, because of course she does, she’s a doctor. The smell of the sea reaches her nose. “Have we met before?”
He shakes his head. “If we had, I couldn’t come here,” he says. “I can’t visit Edogawa or the president because of that. And definitely not Dazai.”
“I didn’t realize those three had a mutual friend.” A passing acquaintance is more likely.
“We only met a couple times - I owe the first two an apology. Edogawa especially. I still don’t know what I want to say to Dazai even after all these years.” The man looks down at his paper. “I’d ask you to forward the apology for me, but you probably won’t remember this at all.”
She doesn’t, but she does have a nagging feeling that she’s forgotten to do something important.
Tanizaki thinks of his dreams as fairly normal. Most of them are good ones, with the occasional exception, like dreaming that he’s arrived at work without remembering to put on pants. Fukuzawa’s judging stare felt almost real.
This isn’t nearly as bad as that.
“What’s it like to have a family?” the man writing in his notebook asks.
Tanizaki has to think about it. That’s not the kind of question you give a half-baked answer to, not when it’s asked so seriously. “I think… it’s having someone you can count on no matter what.”
The man nods, and shuts his book. “Wouldn’t the Agency be a family, if you thought of it that way?”
“I guess it would.” They’re not bound by blood like him and his sister, but they’re as reliable as any family he knows.
A soft smile appears on the man’s face. “That’s good. Dazai will like that someday, if he stays around long enough.”
Dazai is the most unreliable of the bunch, but even so, Tanizaki can’t imagine the group without him. “I hope so.”
When he wakes, he feels a strange compulsion to check on his sister. She’s peacefully asleep, and he sighs in relief.
Kenji’s dreams are as wild as his trains of thought. He dreams of purple elephants, of flying trains, of all kinds of things that don’t exist in the real world.
A man sitting by a window writing in a book is disappointingly normal in comparison. Kenji peeks over his shoulder to get a look at it.
He only catches a brief glimpse of what’s written there before the man forcefully shuts the notebook. “Please don’t look at my writing before it’s done,” he says, almost apologetic. “It’s not very good yet.”
“Okay,” Kenji says, and then, “Sorry,” because even he can tell when he’s been rude.
“It’s alright,” the man replies.
“When can I see it?” Kenji asks, his head tilted. “Soon?”
The man studies the cover of his notebook for a moment, then says, “Hopefully, a very long time from now. My writing isn’t the kind of thing you should be in a hurry to read.”
Kenji nods. “I’ll remember that I want to read it! And I’ll ask you again the next time I see you.”
That gets the man to chuckle, just a little. “Okay. I’ll remember that you’ll remember.”
Kenji wakes feeling well-rested, full, and content.
Most of Atsushi’s dreams are nightmares, so he treasures the ones that aren’t. Dreams of hot food, warm beds, and loving people are something to be savored.
This isn’t a nightmare, at least not right now. The sound of the ocean’s waves in the distance brings Atsushi a sense of peace.
He doesn’t try to peek at the man’s notebook, even when he doesn’t immediately greet Atsushi. Some things are personal.
“You met Dazai recently,” he says at last.
Atsushi nods.
“This is a lot to ask, but would you please help look after him?” the man asks.
It’s a strange request, and it gets Atsushi to pause. “...Isn’t he the one looking after me, though...?”
“Hm.” The man considers that for a second. “Then, you should both look after each other, as friends.”
That sounds… if not doable, then at least something that makes more sense. Atsushi swallows. “I-I’ll do my best.”
“Thank you.” The man rises from his chair. “I can’t do much for him now, but it’d mean a lot to me if someone helped him.” He holds out his hand.
His hand’s too cold when Atsushi shakes it, but his smile is warm. Atsushi smiles back.