Givethewriterwhatitdeserves - Tumblr Posts

GUYS WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS UNDERRATED AS FUCK WHERE ARE THE THOUSANDS OF NOTES??? I LOVE THIS THIS IS SO ANXJAJXIAJSQISNAXJAKDJAIXIAJSKAA PLEASE READ THIS

Hi! Can I request Ranpo and Beast in the Shadows for the 300 Followers Event? If that's okay with you of course!

yes it's very much okay with me HAHA I remember enjoying this novella more than I thought I would taglist: @irethepotato, @kisara-16reblogs, @thatdazaikin, @dazaee

Shadow based on Beast in the Shadows (陰獣）

300 Followers Event Masterlist Summary: How could something so celebrated such as love be so painful? Pairing: Ranpo x GN!Reader Genre: Angst. Pure Angst. Word Count: 1.2k Warnings: death, mentions of abuse, suicide (and not proofread oop) A/N: The ending! Imo it's what gave this work so much character from the usual mystery novel. Decided to absolutely forego Edogawa-sensei's writing style because this fanwork is just reveling in angst HAHA hope this is okay!

WARNING: If you plan on reading the original work, please do so first! This contains MAJOR MAJOR spoilers for it! (It's a mystery novel so yes)

Every single piece had finally fallen perfectly into place in his head, and the picture before him was perfectly clear.

“Y/N.”

He opened his eyes to your crumbling form, tears about to spill from your beautiful eyes. For every second longer that his gaze lingered, the knot in his throat tightened. This was not how things were supposed to be – this wasn’t what this room was for. The setting sun’s light that painted an enchanting glow on your sweet face wasn’t meant to accentuate the tragedy about to unfold.

But even before he first stepped inside his decision had already been set in stone.

Each of your attempts to reclaim the warm Edogawa Ranpo you once knew, he brushed off coldly for turning away now would do nothing.

“Y/N, I know who killed your husband.”

You sat there silently while you stared at him with the same imploring eyes. It’s almost as if you knew his intentions from the start – not even a shred of curiosity or surprise could be found on your sullen face.

He took out a familiar, crumpled map and unfolded it. It was the same one used in the investigation, marked with red ink and covered in sticky notes. Everything was the same as it had been, except for one new addition.

“The location of all the residences of this stalker of yours… when you connect them together, it makes almost a perfect circle. Why would that be?”

Usually, you’d answer with your own theories. He’d listen intently even to the most ridiculous ones as long as they came from your lovely mind. Perhaps he’d tease you a bit and remind you of his greatness, but now a single glance at you was all it took for him to lose the patience for an answer that wouldn’t come.

“That means the perpetrator takes the same amount of time to get there and return to their true residence: right here.” His finger lightly tapped twice the center of the circle. “And that place is…?”

You continued to sob, ignoring his question. “Ranpo-san please stop.”

“It’s your house, Y/N. Your house.”

His voice cracked upon emphasis of it being yours – the betrayal hitting harder now than it did when he first saw it all. How could he have been so blind? But rather than at you or himself, the anger and frustration were directed to how ludicrous the whole situation was.

Going so far as to set up a fictitious third party and frame them as the culprit, concealing your true identity as both an accomplished writer and murderer, and all the while ensnaring him with your tender caresses…

You only resolved to flee from your abusive husband when you fell in love with Ranpo – that was the great detective’s conclusion.

You averted your eyes as more tears ran down your cheek. Watching everything crumble and witness the last thing he wanted to see was unbearable; how much more unbearable was this for you?

“You could have asked for help! From someone, from anyone. You didn’t- you shouldn’t have done it, Y/N. There are other ways, other places you could have run to-“

Was that true? Was there, without a doubt, somewhere safe for you to live a new life? That pig would have hounded you – worse, kill you in the most painful way possible the moment he found you again.

That’s why many victims could never leave even if they wanted to.

Ranpo then remembered his own and the Agency;  they were an option, for sure! Why hadn’t you asked them, then? They would have gotten that bastard in jail with not much issue as long as you were willing to-

I should have just killed him!

The cries of the teenage boy of the other case they were dealing with suddenly pierced his memory. You were there too - before all of this shit happened - and you heard it all. How brutally his mother had been murdered by her ex fresh out of jail. How lonely and bitter the family was.

He suddenly remembered that that was the same day he saw your lonely eyes turn fearful.

There is no escape from death but with death itself.

“…turn yourself in. Then forget everything that ever happened here.”

You finally looked back at him. The grip on his cape slowly loosened and your hand fell lifelessly like the sun that sunk below the window’s horizon.

Without your resistance, Ranpo was able to slowly stand up and take in your figure engulfed by shadows one last time. It was the complete opposite of all the rendezvous you had together. How strange it was; how pathetic you seemed.

He’d left you alone in that apartment along with all the fondness he once had for you.

Who’d have known he’d the flame of love would burn in him so wildly? It must have been lit in him when your lips touched his; your own fire easily taking over him. What a dangerous disease – what a terrible torment that he was fortunate to snuff out before it destroyed him completely.  

That is, the fate of those consumed by raging fire was falling into the cold depths of unfeeling water.

“Don’t give me that shit.”

It was only a week after when a body was found floating under a boat near the mouth of the river – it was yours. Strangely enough it was almost identical to the way your husband’s corpse had been discovered.

He refused to believe the news until he saw and touched your body for himself. This could just be another of your schemes, right? Scaring him like that in order to bring him back to you, begging that things be brought to how they were before.

But there you were, lying cold and motionless before him. In the back of his mind he imagined you’d turn to him and coax him to lie into your open arm, just like how you’d done so many times before.

Yet it was the memory of your last meeting that prevailed in his heart: the regret and sorrow from the realization that he had been too harsh on you that evening.

He had killed you with his words.

“Y/N… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry-“

No apology, no matter how sincere and desperate, would turn back time. He could have been wrong: your silence could have meant nothing. Your stalker could have been a flesh-and-blood human who pushed you to your demise, still roaming around the streets of Yokohama. There had to be someone the blame can be thrown on. There had to be someone who could heal the open wound left in his heart. There had to be someone-

Time and time again he’d revisit the same places and evidences in an attempt to find something new. A lead, a suspect, anything. But time washes away traces of the incident like rain slowly eroding loose soil.

In the end he was left with a soggy pile of cinders. It could no longer hold a flame no matter what he did, and amidst the warm light of the fading sun a frigid silence remained.

Only guilt had followed him religiously, like a tortuous beast in the shadows.