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Entry tags:
death prefers us orderly
Title: death prefers us orderly
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Character(s): Ango, Oda
Pairing(s): implied Ango/Oda
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 545
Rating: PG
Warnings: Canon character death, vomit mention
Summary: Thoughts that Ango will never give voice to.
Notes: BSD Rarepair Week day 2, prompt: “Memories are either the greatest poetry, when they are memories of a vital happiness, or a burning pain, when they touch dried wounds.” ―Ivan Goncharov, Oblomov
The position of a government agent requires that Ango keep his personal feelings out of his business as much as possible. If it’s advantageous for the wellbeing of Yokohama, the department will work alongside the most heinous of scum or sacrifice a saint.
Ango knows this and has known this since he took this position. While he isn’t always the best at hiding his emotions, he tries not to give voice to them when it’s clearly a bad idea to admit to those feelings. For example, he would never say the following no matter how many times it’s resounded in his head:
Fuck Mori Ougai.
Fuck Mori Ougai, fuck his plans and machinations, fuck his facade of a responsible leader who’s forced to make hard choices for his organization. Fuck him for leaking Ango’s triple agent status to Mimic and then acting so very concerned when ordering Odasaku to ‘find’ him. Fuck him for inviting Mimic to Japan in the first place and fuck him for deliberately putting Oda in its path.
Fuck him for killing five children to take care of the problem he caused himself. Fuck him for breaking the kindest person Ango has ever met to further the mafia’s goals. Fuck him for killing the person who least deserved it for daring to incite a feeling in Dazai that Mori didn’t approve of.
Ango wishes he’d never met him. More than that, he wishes Oda had never met him and had found some other organization to redeem himself in, one that wouldn’t throw him away like so much garbage. He wishes Mori Ougai had never been born and had never ruined anyone else’s life. He wishes a lot of things.
Ango has imagined the many things he would like to say and do to Mori if he were given the chance. How he could possibly get the depth of his hatred into words. What kind of pain would be suitable retribution for the pain Oda went through four years ago.
…It’s useless to imagine those scenarios, because Ango knows that the next time he meets Mori, he won’t lay a hand on him. He’ll hide all his feelings behind a calm expression and discuss business with the mafia boss he hates more than anyone in the world besides one, and Oda’s name won’t be said once by either of them. He’ll thank Mori after they’re done, and he’ll walk out of that room and directly to the nearest bathroom to be violently ill.
Once, a long time ago, he drank too much at Bar Lupin for some stupid reason he doesn’t remember now. He vaguely recalls how nauseous he felt, but the only part of the memory that’s still clear is his head in Oda’s lap with Oda stroking his hair to try to soothe him.
“You shouldn’t, I’m going to be sick on you…”
“It’s alright. I don’t mind sacrificing my pants to help you feel better.” Oda had kept petting Ango’s hair, and Ango had stayed there until he fell asleep.
That memory burns more painfully every time Ango attaches it to the things he couldn’t sacrifice for Oda: his job, his secrecy, his playing nice with the man who destroyed Odasaku’s life.
Fuck Mori Ougai, and fuck Sakaguchi Ango.
Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Character(s): Ango, Oda
Pairing(s): implied Ango/Oda
Genre: Angst
Word Count: 545
Rating: PG
Warnings: Canon character death, vomit mention
Summary: Thoughts that Ango will never give voice to.
Notes: BSD Rarepair Week day 2, prompt: “Memories are either the greatest poetry, when they are memories of a vital happiness, or a burning pain, when they touch dried wounds.” ―Ivan Goncharov, Oblomov
The position of a government agent requires that Ango keep his personal feelings out of his business as much as possible. If it’s advantageous for the wellbeing of Yokohama, the department will work alongside the most heinous of scum or sacrifice a saint.
Ango knows this and has known this since he took this position. While he isn’t always the best at hiding his emotions, he tries not to give voice to them when it’s clearly a bad idea to admit to those feelings. For example, he would never say the following no matter how many times it’s resounded in his head:
Fuck Mori Ougai.
Fuck Mori Ougai, fuck his plans and machinations, fuck his facade of a responsible leader who’s forced to make hard choices for his organization. Fuck him for leaking Ango’s triple agent status to Mimic and then acting so very concerned when ordering Odasaku to ‘find’ him. Fuck him for inviting Mimic to Japan in the first place and fuck him for deliberately putting Oda in its path.
Fuck him for killing five children to take care of the problem he caused himself. Fuck him for breaking the kindest person Ango has ever met to further the mafia’s goals. Fuck him for killing the person who least deserved it for daring to incite a feeling in Dazai that Mori didn’t approve of.
Ango wishes he’d never met him. More than that, he wishes Oda had never met him and had found some other organization to redeem himself in, one that wouldn’t throw him away like so much garbage. He wishes Mori Ougai had never been born and had never ruined anyone else’s life. He wishes a lot of things.
Ango has imagined the many things he would like to say and do to Mori if he were given the chance. How he could possibly get the depth of his hatred into words. What kind of pain would be suitable retribution for the pain Oda went through four years ago.
…It’s useless to imagine those scenarios, because Ango knows that the next time he meets Mori, he won’t lay a hand on him. He’ll hide all his feelings behind a calm expression and discuss business with the mafia boss he hates more than anyone in the world besides one, and Oda’s name won’t be said once by either of them. He’ll thank Mori after they’re done, and he’ll walk out of that room and directly to the nearest bathroom to be violently ill.
Once, a long time ago, he drank too much at Bar Lupin for some stupid reason he doesn’t remember now. He vaguely recalls how nauseous he felt, but the only part of the memory that’s still clear is his head in Oda’s lap with Oda stroking his hair to try to soothe him.
“You shouldn’t, I’m going to be sick on you…”
“It’s alright. I don’t mind sacrificing my pants to help you feel better.” Oda had kept petting Ango’s hair, and Ango had stayed there until he fell asleep.
That memory burns more painfully every time Ango attaches it to the things he couldn’t sacrifice for Oda: his job, his secrecy, his playing nice with the man who destroyed Odasaku’s life.
Fuck Mori Ougai, and fuck Sakaguchi Ango.