#or rather proofread/posted

[flowersforthemachines]

.

news just in: this tumblr user is NOT dying of melanoma as she had suspected and worried herself sick about since yesterday. hooray 🎉

[courfaeriedust]

Alexander H— and the Merlin Story

So almost anyone who has talked to me about The Night Circus has been treated to my pet theory that Alexander is Merlin, which I’ve never really explained. I’ve changed this slightly based on my latest reread, and I figured it was time to finally write it down. My theory is no longer that Alexander is Merlin. It’s that Merlin is Alexander.

So, first off: the story of Merlin in the Night Circus is usually there as a metaphor for being trapped. Widget tells the story to Poppet, and they have a conversation about whether it’s such a bad thing to be trapped somewhere (which is heartbreaking because they’re 8 at the time of this scene, but that’s another post.) It also comes up later, when (spoiler) Tsukiko intends to imprison Marco in the Bonfire.

Tsukiko doesn’t call it the Merlin story, though. She calls it the story of the Wizard in the Tree. And Kiko always, always knows more than she is saying. Now that could just be that — it could just be about entrapment and confinement. But the ground is soft and I’m here to dig.

Here are some facts about Alexander:

He doesn’t have a shadow

He doesn’t interact with the world as others do (as a child Marco never manages to be as silent as him in museums; at the party to celebrate the 13th anniversary of the Night Circus Alexander doesn’t stir up the rose petals littering the floor as everyone else does)

He is very, very old (though not immortal)

He is always grey. He’s introduced as the Grey Man, and he’s never associated with colour (aside from maybe the black cradle he sends for the twins, and the black rose at Tara’s funeral. However, when it’s just him everything associated with him is grey.)

Alexander has seen the decline of magic in the world. This is inferred, I grant, but he’s very dismissive when Widget says that there’s still some magic about, as if to him it is nothing. And although we never actually see him do much magic (he binds Celia, manipulates Tara, and teaches Marco, but that’s all I believe we see directly), his power feels present.

Following from that, very few people remember his name. Is this the manipulation Marco picked up? It could be. It could also be that he’s not fully there. Furthermore, his name isn’t really Alexander.

He is, at heart, a kind man. (This isn’t relevant to the theory, I was just surprised by how often it showed up. Anyway.)

I have always taken these things to mean he attempted what Hector did, but much more successfully. He disdains what Hector tried to do, though — he’s uninterested in immortality, and unimpressed that Hector attempted that. And so, I posit: what if Alexander did this to himself not as a choice, but because the other option was being a tree? What if the tree is his touchstone, just as Celia and Marco’s is the Circus, just as Hector doesn’t have one and is therefore diluted? A smaller area, and presumably stronger magic (assuming this is long ago when magic was more than it is today), would make him more able to interact with the world than any of the other three. This explains his lack of shadow, and his minimal interaction with the world.

It’s unclear how old Alexander is; the only real clue we get is Widget at the end saying that “if I calculated the ages of everyone I have behind this proposition, the total might trump your own age.” That doesn’t actually help that much, because we don’t know how many the Circus number, and theoretically Rêveurs could count amongst that number. So he’s very old, but human. I have just now realised that Hector is one of his first students, which means he can’t be that much younger, so what I’m about to say won’t hold up with this revelation but hey, we got here already so I’ll keep going. Trees can live a lot longer than a regular human. Trees can lose branches in the way that some parts of Alexander’s history are lost to Widget. Tree growth is non-linear, much like the circles and overlaps Widge sees in his history too.

Okay, back to things I won’t immediately poke holes in myself: Alexander lived through the downfall of magic. And what if that’s because it happened to him? I do think this makes Hector the beautiful student he told all his secrets too, which is again another post for another time, but the tale it has become doesn’t have to be the tale of how it started. Hector is, frankly, awful. He’s a horrible man. Can you see him imprisoning his teacher to get more power for himself? Easily. Now Alexander isn’t much better, but he claims he was a romantic “in his youth”, and also, when he gets the chance to be he is so often kind. He tells Celia she’s an Angel. He takes Marco out of an orphanage for his own ends, yes, but also to give Marco a better life. He does care, deeply, about Marco. He tries to save Herr Thiessen. He has many many moments of small kindnesses throughout the book. Can you not imagine him trying his best to share his knowledge of magic? Can you not imagine him settling for more knowledge by way of a challenge, instead of enacting revenge?

(Hey look at that, Alexander’s kindness did turn out to be relevant!)

There’s also something about young Celia pointing out that Alexander is to him as Prospero is to Hector. I don’t know what to make of that — perhaps Alexander’s true name is just old, and would draw too much attention. When Marco summons him, he inscribes symbols in the shape of an A, though. The Night Circus feels like it takes place in a world where true names have power.

In conclusion: I think Alexander is the basis of the Merlin story, and textually there is little that denies that. I hope you’ve enjoyed this freshly ploughed ground; feel free to plant seeds in it should you wish.

[somerunner]

Draft from Feb. 28, 2025 that I’m finally posting to clear up my drafts folder:

I just came across a reblog by someone I follow (and rather respect), of someone else’s multi-part post that’s very anti-Mormon (i.e. against the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints). And I’m fine reading posts that criticize the USA, or heteronormative culture, or white cis men, etc. despite belonging to those categories as well. Maybe it’s because I don’t feel as much attachment to those things; maybe it’s because of history classes I took in school, making me think that it’s fine to be criticized for these things without taking it personally. But anti-Mormon posts hurt a little bit more than that.

This post especially hurt because it got so many things right. The things they talked about *are* real, harmful results of the way our church is structured. That post also made a few assumptions that (as far as I know) are incorrect, but that only weakens their argument, it doesn’t negate it.

Anyway, it makes me think of two things: one, how often I fall for hate-mongering propaganda about other groups (and not just religious groups; also about North Korea, European countries, etc. (it’s not just “oh these conservative groups are maligned? Better have more sympathy now, only for the conservative groups!”)). And two, my own complicated feelings about my church.

I guess I’ll just leave this post here with an excerpt from my response on this post:

I don't think of myself as a good person. I think that's why I stay in the church -- for both of the reasons you might expect from that last sentence (i.e. it makes me better the more I participate in it, and in addition I'm not principled enough to strike out on my own). I feel compelled to both defend and criticize the church in the same breath, because doing only one of those things feels wrong.

[kp-alice]

small update: i'm slightly behind on the next kinktober fic so instead of today it will have to come out tomorrow (its almost midnight where i am)

thank you for your patience and understanding and see you tomorrow!!!!

[irawhiti]

to be clear with regards to my post attempting to coin ngāti rangiātea, i say a few times in vague terms that people will expect you to go to drastic lengths to find your iwi that are not reasonable nor moral. i'm not remotely exaggerating, especially about the moral part.

the final straw that prompted drafting the post and term for me was when, after mapping out my entire family line to pinpoint the person who came from aotearoa to australia over multiple years only to find VERY solid evidence that they were born on the ship to australia and their mother deliberately obfuscated their identities + there is literally no tribal record due to them fleeing aotearoa during the musket wars, i was told to send a physical letter to a person who married into my family who i found out by chance currently lives in aotearoa. this was only possible because i found she is semi-popular in certain circles and has a p.o box at her work address.

despite this being a pretty extreme invasion of privacy, i sent a hopeful letter asking for any information she may have had. obviously i never got a response. this was met with people telling me that i need to send more letters to this complete stranger. when i said "yeah i don't want to do this, there is a 99.9% chance she doesn't even know we're māori due to my specific situation, she clearly isn't interested in speaking to me, i've just found out she was a truly awful person towards my immediate family, and this is a gross invasion of privacy" i was criticised for giving up.

and forgive me for saying that i just don't think that this should be the state of things. to put the concept of Maybe Potentially finding one more crumb of info to put towards Maybe Potentially discovering a piece of your family history above basic human decency and respect.

and it's like... alright. theoretically: what if this did lead to the discovery of my iwi? what exactly does this do for me? like, functionally? i'm not from aotearoa. my family have been diaspora māori for almost 200 years now. my fires have been put out, i have no access to a marae, my entire family (alive and dead) has had a fundamentally different life experience than the other māori from the iwi we came from. hell, entire iwi have come and gone in 200 years, absorbed into other iwi through marriage or wiped out through conquest.

apart from being a brief nod to my whakapapa in a pepeha (followed by the harsh reality that i still wouldn't know my hapū to recite immediately after my iwi), what would this mean for me? for my whānau? why am i expected to run around in circles, ripping myself and everyone around me who may have a single fucking crumb of information apart? who does this validate? because it sure as hell doesn't validate me. i've decided that i'm much more interested in representing and learning about my whānau than the people i was separated from nearly two centuries ago at this point and hey, if that makes strangers feel a bit pissy for some reason, that's really not my problem.

so, i'm ngāti kangaru, a tongue-in-cheek label, and i'm ngāti rangiātea, a call to action.

and above all, i'm done doing morally objectionable shit and begging like a kurī for a scrap of fucking respect.

[sweeterthanmydreams]

It was harder than it should have been to get a good picture, but I was amused with how well my glasses matched the cover. Super aesthetic. u-u

My sisters picked up a copy of Dracula for book club ages ago, and I've been looking forward to reading it since catching up on #DRCL (a gorgeous manga btw); I might be stupid, but I didn't realize #DRCL was a direct adaptation of Dracula for a hot minute. The cover design & usual imagery associated with Dracula (see: old horror movie poster vibes) gave me a completely different impression of the book so I've always passed it up; I think I got it a little mixed up with Nosferatu visually. Epistlary story with Bible-like structure (mix of letters, bits of news, personal journals, etc.) was NOT what I thought it was! Love me a found footage horror story.

I might take a stab at designing an alternate cover for the book at some point; something that matches better with my impression of the book as I read it. Speaking of covers, I really like the simple cover, aspect ratio, and typesetting of this version and so I thought: might it be nice to own a little collection of Lifetime Library classics? This copy was picked up at a second hand store so I check the books itself for the publishers information and boy did I fall down a rabbit hole! It's by Sweetwater Press which (tl;dr) doesn't seem to exist???

It started with googling it, which ended up at a Reddit thread (the only source online about it), and I've gotten the impression that it was once an imprint of Harper Collins printing Books-a-Million exclusives. At that point I was under the impression that BAM! went under so spotting a 2023 copyright date inside the book sent me for a loop. Fact checking this post sent me down the rabbit hole (again) but I've come out with a decent idea of what's going on and the new knowledge that 2nd&Charles is part of the BAM! umbrella; that & all three (BAM!, Sweetwater Press, & 2nd&Charles) are all Alabama based. Still can't figure out where to buy more Lifetime Library classics on purpose.

[osterby]

I'm a grown man. I hit "no" because my parents do not know my username or what I post about, but I think my dad is aware that Tumblr is one of my hangouts.

do your parents know about your tumblr account be honest

[toestalucia]

hi dear ppl, in case someones interested i moved my gbf muses from my general multi to their own blog dawningsky yaayyyyyyy

[petalbcrnes]

oh, i’ve been gone for a few days, but !!! i have a little something for you guys <3 changing up my post’s styles a bit. i’d like to focus on headcanons and small imagines from now on. (dw my series won’t disappear). i just want to try something new! 🌷

a/n: not proofread, this work is sfw. have fun reading. MASTERLIST HERE !!

✹ ꕀ 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 : ‘ 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽? ’ ( ✦ )

( ✦ ) In a few words, to describe a relationship with Jason Todd would be a fever dream, a reverie you didn't even know you were in until those sea-green eyes hit you like waves; you find yourself wanting to lose yourself in this dream.

Despite being a man with a reputation of a rather not-so-savory kind, he unexpectedly shows the most softness and tenderness for his partner out of all the Bat-boys.

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 ⠀. ᰋ .. 🪻

JASON TODD loves quietly. He's subtle with his affections. The fact he loves you will be shown in the small details that collect over time. You don't even notice it at first. He's not used to expressing his feelings in a way that's obvious to the fleeting eye. Only someone who pays attention would see how utterly devoted your boyfriend is to you.

It's the way Jason always has a hand on the surface of your back or waist, guiding you through crowds or holding you while cooking in the kitchen. The touch serves as a safety net for you and a chain that connects the two of you. He needs you close to him. Your presence in the early morning or even in the busy streets of Gotham City has him feeling even calmer.

Jason devotes himself to learning everything about you. He silently watches you when you talk about the things you enjoy. It's a soothing sound to his ears. He makes sure to keep any important detail you mentioned tucked away in his mind.

The specific drink you like at that coffee place you've grown attached to, that book you've been reading (he's picked it up too, he wants to talk about it with you), what temperature you enjoy your tea, the route you take during your day—do you want that pretty ceramic cup he saw at the shop? He thinks you would. He's getting it for you, because when you're happy—he is too.

🗨️: Sorry, I talk too much.

J: But I want to hear you.

There are moments in your relationship when the confidence Jason tried to show you slowly crumbles around you. He doesn't realize that it's the walls he has built around himself finally disappearing when he's with you.

It's shown in the way he sleeps soundly next to you. The way your touch doesn't send spikes through his skin. The way he's more open talking with you. It comes to him naturally—talking with you all night, words slipping past his lips that he wouldn't trust anyone else with.

Acts of service is an important part of a relationship with Jason. He's up before you are. The hot cup of your favorite drink sits steaming on the counter. He's already fussing around the kitchen, trying to cook up a meal for you. (Keyword, trying. I don't have much faith in his cooking, and neither does he.) He's the first to go out for groceries. His hands are always full of the bags you carry. No matter how many times you reassure him you're okay on your own, he shakes his head. He's doing this because he wants to.

🗨️: It's okay. I can carry them.

J: No, no. It's okay. While we're at it, give me that bag you're holding in your left hand, looks heavy.

🗨️: You literally have five bags already!

He has a habit of resting his head on your shoulder or placing his chin on top of your head when he’s tired. He’ll murmur something like “Five more minutes, babe” if you try to move.

I already mentioned in a previous post that you two are not only lovers. Friends to lovers is the romance I see Jason being in. You're his best friend, and he's yours. You're the first one he looks for in a room because you're the only one who really knows him—in and out. He's Jason Todd to the rest of the world, but to you, he's your Jay. The Jay you met and slowly became friends with. The Jay you spent hours huddled away in a library with. You two discuss books non-stop in hushed whispers. Those whispers slowly turned into something even bigger, something that settled deep in your bones.

Jason adores physical touch, but only from you. He’s the kind of guy who acts grumpy about PDA but will still pull you into his lap when you least expect it. Forehead kisses, temple kisses, pulling you closer by the waist when someone walks too close to you—those are his specialties.

Dates include, you guessed it, library dates, that cozy restaurant you two found, the park during the evening, the homey feel of your shared apartment at midnight while a cheesy romance movie plays in the background, late-night walks around the busy streets while the kaleidoscopic colors of the city dance across your figures. It's all very saccharine sweet and simply soft.

The pet names I see Jason using are: a classic babe, pipsqueak (a more teasing one), a shortened version of your name, and pretty.

Jason isn’t a fan of social media, but he keeps a private account just to follow you. He never posts, never likes anything, but he’s always watching. If you post a picture of yourself, he’ll send a text: “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Might be surprising to some, but he's a big gossiper. He's talking about everyone and everything with you. It's a monthly talk you guys have. Basically, gossip buddies.

Arguments are rare with Jason. I've already mentioned that love with him is a process of boundaries and promises to take things slow. I think the two of you don't cross any lines.

Even if something happens, he cannot bear to get mad at you. You're his person, his other half. It ends with apologies, and he needs to be in your presence for the next few days (like a cat with separation anxiety, following you from room to room).

God forbid someone threatens you in any way. Which in itself is rare, because of the automatic scary boyfriend privileges you have. Though, if someone is foolish enough to try, all you need is to give Jason permission, and the person is getting into big trouble.

He likes to write little notes for you. Slipping them into your book, sticking them on the bathroom mirror, or tucking them into your pocket. They range from “Don’t forget to eat” to “You looked so pretty this morning, I almost forgot how to breathe.”

He walks you to class. Shyly, he takes your hand in his and has a small celebration in his mind that he managed to do it. Off you two go, strolling through the campus as if it's your own world.

I think Jason would playfully tease you too. He's your best friend and now boyfriend. It's a requirement now. That's where the pipsqueak pet name comes from. He enjoys your reactions, the little huffs of exasperation or the way you try (and fail) to glare at him.

If he ever catches you crying, Jason immediately goes into comfort mode. He might not always have the right words, but his arms are strong, his voice is gentle, and he’ll hold you as long as you need.

🗨️: You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be okay.

J: I know you will. But I want to be here.

Jason is so in love with you, it’s ridiculous.

But at the end of the day, despite all the teasing, all the quiet acts of love, all the soft whispers and quiet mornings, Jason Todd is just a man who loves you with everything he has. And he always will.

♥︎ . .. ♥︎ .. 🌷 ♥︎

© petalbcrnes | all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are not allowed to be reposted, translated, or modified.

[calmlb]

adding my two sense because it’s probably the best Dazai analysis i’ve read to date…

i think that Dazai's distorted self perception is vital to his character (similarly to how Yozo in NLH was an unreliable narrator). he cannot see himself as good no matter how much good he does, or how many people tell him, because he believes to his core that he is bad— so bad that he is disqualified from being a human being. and so he is consumed by shame, adding to his hopelessness.

the irony in this is that Odasaku was right— Dazai didn’t (doesn’t?) see much difference between right and wrong. it’s hard for someone like Dazai to see the difference, with as smart, and able to see through people as he is— because the hypocrisy of human nature is so blatant. plus, when you can’t find a reason to live, nothing really matters. everything starts to become pointless. what’s the point in discerning between right & wrong if life itself is pointless?

i think this mindset contributes to Dazai’s apathy towards killing. when you don’t see the point in living— when it doesn’t feel worth it— it becomes nearly impossible to fathom why anyone else would want to be alive… to fight to stay alive (enter Dazai’s fascination with Chuuya).

“There is nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonging a life of suffering.”

it might even seem like mercy to end someone’s life (i don’t know if Dazai saw it like this, but i don’t think he saw it as a bad thing. and we saw him show mercy to the GSS solider by killing him so he wouldn’t suffer a slow, painful death). we know Dazai considered dying to be a luxury— he was giving the soldier exactly what Dazai himself wanted so desperately, hence his slight mental breakdown in that scene.

“Ha ha ha. What a luxury. Ha ha ha ha ha!”

i also think this excerpt from stormbringer is so important because it shows that Dazai rarely, if ever, enjoyed the things he did in the port mafia, such as killing (and this remains true). that’s the point.

The longer he worked for the Mafia, the darker and more unfathomable he became. Nobody knew exactly why, either. Nevertheless, Dazai continued to slaughter his enemies and serve the Port Mafia in order to force himself into an even darker place. His achievements were outstanding. But there was one person who did not take delight in his glory: Dazai himself.

he joined the port mafia, pushing himself further & further into the darkness, thinking that if he could observe death up close, he could find out just what it was that made people fight to live. yet he still couldn’t find it— partially because he took no pleasure in the things he did. whether or not he felt negatively about his actions, i'm not sure, though if Dazai does feel a lot of shame it’s possible. but at the very least, he was neutral/apathetic about them. like op said, it was logical… able to be rationalized— the optimal solution. a way of thinking that he was naturally inclined to, but was trained into him even more by Mori.

most of the things Dazai had to do were either:

1. just part of the job/how the mafia functioned. i think he very quickly became desensitized to death & violence, if he wasn't already before meeting Mori, which i don’t think he was completely, based on his reaction to seeing the Old Boss murdered.

OR 2. orchestrated or subliminally influenced by Mori. Mori was training Dazai because he saw himself in him— he projected on him because of his own loneliness and groomed him to be, probably, the next boss. i don’t think a lot of people realize how Mori’s abuse of Dazai actually worked. it was much more covert and subconscious manipulation. he put the idea in Dazai’s head to recruit Chuuya, and how to do it, but he did it in a way that made Dazai initially believe it was his own idea. Mori was trying to train Dazai to think like he did— to always make the optimal, logical choice— because that’s how Dazai’s brain was already inclined. but as we saw in dark era, Dazai was much more emotional than Mori (or at least, he couldn’t completely put aside his emotions for the sake of logic. and after Odasaku’s murder, Dazai wouldn’t put aside emotion for the sake of logic— another reason he left the mafia).

Dazai is not emotionless, nor is he sadistic. this is one of the reasons i’m so passionate about doing away with using the “Demon Prodigy” nickname in the fandom so casually (it was originally a spin on a line from a fan translation of The Heartless Curr, but it’s found nowhere in canon). in my opinion, it badly mischaracterizes Dazai because it pushes the idea that he was an absolute demon of a person. when in fact, the moments when he could be interpreted as sadistic, cruel, or heartless were usually just masks.

Dazai is a chameleon— he shows people exactly who they need him to be in order to accomplish his goals. if you think PM Dazai was a demon, then Dazai (and Mori) accomplished their goal. Dazai, because as a child in the mafia & the boss’s right hand man (& accomplice in the murder of the Old Boss), this protected him. Mori, because if everyone feared Dazai, not only would they listen to him, but Dazai would be even more alienated and lonely. this would make him even less resistant to Mori’s influence, and to suppressing his emotions & connections in favor of the end goal, which is what Mori was training in him.

this isn’t to say that Dazai didn’t do anything wrong when he was in the mafia. obviously he did, but most of it was just doing his job. Chuuya and everyone currently in the mafia still do those things every single day, but i don’t see people acting like they’re merciless killers all the time. intentions matter, and from everything we’ve seen in canon, even when Dazai looks like he’s doing something wrong or cruel, etc, it’s always with a good intention (unless i’m forgetting something).

much like Kyouka, Dazai was very talented, and his skills served him very well in the mafia. but that doesn’t mean he himself was well suited for the mafia, or that his skills couldn’t be used for good (hence why he was able to get through to Kyouka).

one of my favorite things about Dazai is how he’s always taking in the strays. i don’t know if he’s consciously aware he’s doing it, but he’s always saving the lost or those with nowhere to go. this was true even when he was in the port mafia— he recruited Chuuya (granted the idea was put into his head by Mori but my point stands), he recruited Odasaku, he recruited Akutagawa, and Gin by extension.

after he joined the agency, Dazai recruited Atsushi, who in turn recruited Kyouka (but Dazai aided in that too), and now we have the potential of Sigma being recruited (we don’t know how the Tanizakis & Kenji joined so who knows? maybe Dazai had a hand in recruiting them too).

Dazai is naturally inclined towards helping people, no matter how much he’s blind to the fact (other examples include leaving the choice to Chuuya in stormbringer, renting out an entire building for Oda’s orphans to keep them safe, training Akutagawa so he wouldn’t end up killing himself, etc).

but Dazai doesn’t let himself get close or attached to people, because:

1. everything he wants is lost the moment he obtains it. yet there are certain people he can’t help but get attach himself to. like a barnacle, along for the ride so he observe these people he finds “interesting,” and hopefully learn what makes them want to live… because that what’s he’s after right? a reason to live.

Dazai doesn’t want to die because he’s depressed. he’s depressed because he wants to die can’t find a reason to live. i think Dazai is more of a case of “doesn’t want to be alive” as opposed to “wants to die.” it took me a long time to understand the meaning of this quote from dark era, but once i did, i think it perfectly sums this up:

“Awaken me from this oxidizing world of a dream.”

being alive is too painful. and Dazai hates pain.

awaken me = death. oxidizing world = just the act of being alive is eating away at him. world of a dream = this world has to be a dream because if this is reality, it’s too painful to bear, so he’s clinging to the hope that whatever comes after death is better than this.

and 2. like op said, Dazai is terrified of people seeing his “true self,” which he believes is not human. so even though what he wants most is to be seen & known, it’s also what he fears most. he hides behind his masks and resigns himself to being misunderstood. this disorganized attachment style dooms him to his loneliness just as much as his intelligence does.

“He's sharp-witted with a mind like a steel trap. And he's just a child— a sobbing child abandoned in the darkness of a world far emptier than the one we're seeing." He was too smart for his own good. That was why he was always alone. The reason why Ango and I were able to be by his side was that we understood the solitude that surrounded him, and we never stepped inside it no matter how close we stood.

Dazai’s loneliness is just as vital to his character (and this intense loneliness is also what Dazai and Chuuya mirror in each other).

“…nothing beyond your own expectations will happen. Nothing in this world can fill the hole that is your loneliness. You will wander the darkness for eternity."

even now, in the agency, that loneliness still isn’t gone. Dazai still feels alienated by his intelligence and imposter syndrome and feeling like a monster masquerading as a human in a world of humans. he still doesn’t want to be alive. but he’s still searching for a reason, and he figures, while he’s here, he might as well help others along the way

(and you know he’s being genuine here bc harukawa sensei drew him with the faded effect <3)

Writing a complex character such as Dazai is actually really hard even for people who understand him because he is, as you said, extremely unpredictable. I don't know exactly what to tell you, but I'll try to help a little bit!

The whole thing about Dazai is that he doesn't understand humanity. He understands the basics and why people do what they do because he is analytical and has been studying people's behavior and human connections forever. But he doesn't feel connected with humanity and empathy the same way other people do. He perceives others from like, the other side of a barrier. He studies them carefully. Manages to care about them deeply sometimes. Even deeper when they're able to see him and get to him (Odasaku, Atsushi, Chuuya, the whole agency in fact means something to him). But there's always this layer of disconnection and apathy and emptiness he doesn't know how to get rid of. It's like he cares, but he actually doesn't because he rationalizes everything and turns it into a game of chess, more or less? And I think that frustrates him. He isn't used to caring about people because he doesn't understand them, but he takes an interest in the people he finds amusing to study and once he cares deeply, they're taken away from him (that's why he mourns and regrets Oda's death so much. He feels like the world takes everything away from him the second he manages to feel human). Hence the whole thing about not feeling human (amongst other things). He cares and yet he is realistic. He has regrets and suffers and feels pain and he can care about others (ignore all the people who keep portraying him as an emotionless monster, please) but he doesn't drown in self-pity when it comes to all the people he has killed and his past because he can rationalize that. It was another era. He has moved on. And if it's for the greater good of the mission or his journey to find something to live for, he doesn't care how many random people he has to kill (when he was younger he valued other people's lives way less, of course. Now that has changed because his apathy is something he doesn't turn into cruelty and instead uses to rationalize plans and help the world and the agency. Basically, when he was part of the mafia it was kind of "I don't give a fuck about random people" because he genuinely didn't feel anything for them, but now, even if he doesn't genuinely care for them, he protects even random people because that's what the image of kindness Oda had planned for him). Oda tells him that, if the good side and the bad one are the same and he hasn't found anything to live for yet, why not help the world while he's at it? And it's such a beautiful thought because Dazai has this issue with understanding humanity and making bonds. But he understands, now more than ever after Oda's death, what living and killing means. He might not actually care that much for society and its well-being, but maybe he can find something to live for in the light more than he would in the darkness. He keeps wanting to kill himself, right? He keeps trying. But he doesn't actually want to. It's common sense. If he truly wanted to, he already would've done it. "I don't like pain" is the most common thing to say when you don't actually want to do it. I think that, unlike Nikolai, who actually craves to die as a representation of freedom, Dazai only wants to keep trying and trying to find a reason for living. Chuuya was that thing when he was in the Mafia. Chuuya and Oda, because Chuuya is quite literally his soulmate (in the sense of bringing amusement to his life and also making him feel human, as his ability is the only thing that can help Chuuya. And also Chuuya not being human but being the most empathetic and emotional of all the people Dazai has met in the mafia) and Oda was the first one to actually understand him and see him for who he is, something I don't think he'll ever find again and that's why Oda's death fucked him up so bad. He found a place to belong and somebody to live for, and then he dies and leaves him alone? It's not fair, but he'll try to fight for good and live in the light if that's what Oda wanted for him. As if Oda knew him better than he knows himself because I also think he has a hard time with his own perception and personality.

In simpler words: Dazai has a hard time understanding humanity because he feels disconnected from it by a layer of apathy and the fact that he doesn't understand basic human needs/actions because he doesn't share them. One of the things that makes us human is desires, right? Wanting. Loving. Longing. Dazai rejects all of that because he doesn't know what he wants and nothing he tries ends up making him feel whole. In "No Longer Human", actually, you can read things like "It is almost impossible for me to converse with other people" and "I have never known what it means to be hungry / Eat or die, the saying goes, but to my ears, it sounded like just one more unpleasant threat". So he isn't a monster, his brain just functions in a different way. He sees everything. Analyzes every little thing. He's smarter than everybody else and he's aware of that, but he feels lonely there and only wants somebody to understand or something to fight for. Oda gave him both things, and the agency gave him a reason to keep going because he genuinely cares about doing good and keeping them safe. I don't think Dazai's journey has ended, because he still fights against.... So many things with himself. His past. His future. His desires. But at least now he has a thing to enjoy and bring him happiness. His constant act of being "silly" isn't that much of a facade. I mean, I think it is because if he acts like a clown, nobody will ever see the true self he hides. But I think he ends up having fun with the agency and annoying Chuuya because he sees them respond to his behavior and he finds it amusing. I think being extremely smart and lonely and tormented can coexist with being fun sometimes.

As per writing in his POV.... It depends on what you want to write, really. I think his brain functions differently depending on his mood. I guess the most important thing is to keep in mind his surroundings because he's always hyperaware of every little thing. But it frustrates him not knowing how he's feeling or not understanding what he actually truly needs, often focusing on others instead of looking into himself, because every time he does, he only finds himself empty and craving for something he doesn't know what it is. In his worst moments, I think it's quite obvious he tries to fix things with distractions and impulsive actions like substance abuse. In his more analytical moments, it's when he becomes more apathetic and sees the world as his game of chess and people as only pawns. He knows he's human, he just doesn't feel like it. Fyodor has a sense of superiority Dazai doesn't share. He's smarter because his brain functions differently, but he is no God. He is no entity. He analyzes from the POV of somebody external to humanity but knowing quite well he isn't God. And when he's having genuine fun and feeling some type of care/love? I think he's grateful. The emptiness is always there, though. Always haunting him. In the back of his brain. But he sees hope in Atsushi and a place to keep his promise in the agency and maybe fulfill his heart. He might always have a fucked up perception of himself, but at least he's aware that doing the right thing fills the hole in his chest more than tormenting others. As I said, he likes it there (and Chuuya) because it makes him experience humanity even if he keeps telling himself he isn't human (No Longer Human quote: "You miss her, don't you?" / "Yes." / "That's human nature, I guess").

I don't know if I helped you?? I think it's a bit of a mess, sorry 😭 It's like 3am and I don't know if what I said makes any sense, but I really hope I was able to help you!

holy FUCK it took me fifteen minutes to read all of this and i'm glad i did because this is the most succinct and articulate analysis i have ever seen of dazai's underlying nature and his ambitions in relevance to the plot OP I THINK IF ASIGIRI CANT WRITE ANYMORE YOU SHOULD TAKE OVER BSD MANGA BC I THINK U UNDERSTAND DAZAI BETTER THAN HE DOES SOMETIMES TBH💀💀 aaaa jkjk i digress you were so real for bringing up the yozo/dazai parallels bc there's genuinely so many and if i still had my fucking BOOK :side eye: i could go through the intricate and profound commentary i left in the margins but alas my dear friend insists on keeping it longer. there's nothing more i can say on this topic bc i agree w you on everything wholeheartedly i think you deserve a scholarship to harvard or smth bc god DAMN you would slay as a lit or lang major

[rinnstars]

youre my world!

in which they accidentally reveal your relationship to the public (and confirms it)

bllk boys x reader (reo, nagi, rin, sae,): fluff, crack, pro-athletes bllk boys, drabbles, not proofread + likes n reblogs are appreciated!

reo mikage:

sometimes, contrary to what reo believes, he’s simply impulsive and childish in the face of love - excitedly posting a story of you and him at your favourite cafe, beaming at the way your hands merged with him so well - so well that he posted it to his main public account associated with both mikage corporation and his soccer career in manshine city where everyone witnessed it up for 12 hours before he wakes up to his PR calling him freaking out. to be honest, he thinks it shouldn’t be such a big deal right? its not as if the media hasn’t speculated over his relationship status for months now - from every little jewellery that fits perfectly onto his wrist, neck and fingers, from every visits to designer clothes store, to designer jewellery store, to designer shoe stores bringing out huge shopping bags that make his frame look petite in comparison, from every single photo he posts on his feed that they scruntised from the angle, to the place, to the clothes that seem to belong to a matching set somewhere somehow. its expected some thinks - he’s rich, he’s got a decent career, he’s charming both in looks and personality publicised in front of television for many to swoon over, there’s no way he isn’t taken just yet. but now, the focus that he’s so used to shifts to you, who’s only half a face is revealed but has gathered just as much attention a selfies he posts on social media at the request of his managers. and perhaps he now feels it - the jealousy that runs green at his heart as if its always been there tugging at the red muscle, and suddenly all he wants to do is to keep you in his treasure chest of things only he can have, keep you caged in his warm embrace like after practice forever, keep you safe away from the public side of the world that he’s practically born to face. but right at the same time, he wishes nothing more than to parade you in front of the world that he’s sure he loathes secretly in his heart, to share with the world of hte blessing that the world has given him in the bitter and harsh world, to express his love in the way he knows how to.

he thinks it was fate that he accidentally posted it on the wrong account, and who is he to go against the universe that have led you to him in this lifetime. and so, he posts a photo dump of you and him right on his main account - filled with pictures gathered and kept by him in his phone in a folder, whether that be a picture of you eating that sugary-sweet treat that he can still taste from the kiss he shared with you right after that photo, picture of you with him right after his first ever win in his career beaming ear-to-ear hat he looks at like its his lucky charm till this day, picture of you and him wearing that matching chikawa pajama at his apartment studying late into the night together for your finals together. and next time the reporter asks him, he doesn’t hesitate to profess his love of you to the world as though he’s waited his entire life to confess it out to the world.

nagi seishiro:

nagi seishiro is practically on the hunt list by paparazzis - infamously hard to capture on film not because of his bright white hair that seems to avoid flashes but rather that he rarely goes out of his apartment - and when he does, does the paparazzi goes crazy especially when he leaves his house on a blue moon, hands tangling with someone else’s. to him, it was just another day - dragged by you to go to wherever you want for the day that you surely deserve after sleeping over at his place for the past few days cramming for your assignments and whatnot in a quiet environment that just so happens to be his room whilst he lazes around in his bed playing his game with his earphones on glancing at you unbeknownst to you. it was supposed to be just another lunch date just like any others you’ve been with him, wearing whatever to go to your nearby cafe that practically recognises you and nagi and hides you at the corner booth where he first confessed to you out of pure impulse after seeing you chat excitedly about your interest with such passion he can’t help but feel his heart skip multiple beats at once. and yet here you both are giggling at the edits and theories his fans have came up with in defence against a dating rumour as you two lie on his bed, body practically melted together, limbs tangled with his — whether that be deeming you as his little sister that hes strangely close to, to deeming the photo as a breach of privacy, to deeming the photo as straight up edited. he thinks its sort of funny, isnt it clear you two are clearly together romantically? with his hands wrapped around yours that fits just right like a puzzle piece fitting into one another. his eyes glancing at you as though youre his entire world, his smile that rarely appears on his face as he listens to another of your passionate chats.

and he supposes he must be a pretty passive or straight up bad partner when on his next win, a reporter asks about you in such a demeaning and insulting way that ticks his brain the wrong way. he thinks its too much of a bother to get fired up, he thinks its useless to get all upset and red in the face, he thinks its only fools that let their emotion overtake them — yet its against that comment that he suddenly stands up that surprises his members, the reporters around and even the crowd, his mouth leaning onto the microphone that for the first time speaks of something other than mediocre and uninterested responses but the same passionate tone that he thinks you must be rubbing off him, announcing your relationship with him with nothing but love and pride in his voice. and maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t regret it and its no bother to defend you to the world - its you and him against the world anyways.

itoshi rin:

all of this started simply because of rin’s first win in the world cup - pulling at the promise ring attached to his necklace to kiss in celebration that went trending on social media. its not uncommon for football players to celebrate on field or have lucky charms - but for fans to see the logical and detached itoshi rin to indulge in such superstitious habits is unnerving, completely out of character of the cool and calm player that practically overwhelms the field completely. he doesn’t think much of it, youre his lucky charm anyways - every game he makes sure to kiss that polaroid of you that he took of you badly with your new digicam that is slightly blurry and slightly way too bright but he kisses that beam of yours anyways, every game he makes sure to hear that voice message of you wishing him luck in that cheery tone that just makes him replay it over and over until time is up and he practically runs out to the field for the game, and every game he makes sure to dedicate each and every step. kick, turn all to you. he doesn’t get why the reporters keep asking him the same old question - “are you dating someone?” the answer is obviously yes, but that doesn’t mean he can say it - whether it be due to his PR manager, whether that be due to not wanting the media in his personal life, whether that be simply to protect you from the spotlight. its irritating, standing under that spotlight as questions gets thrown at him again and again - all he can think about is you on the stand still waiting for him probably getting cold from the harsh and ruthless wind that your sweater might not be able to keep you warm despite it all, all he can think is the congratulationary kiss you give him after each game that melts both yours and his lips together that makes his entire face go uncharacteristically bright red and his eyes go wide, all he can think about is you so close to running off mid interview again like hes a spoiled child throwing a tantrum as the media described it just to see you a little earlier and spend a little more time with you rather than these irrelevant people. really, not even the harsh critics by the media and fans that compares him to a clone of his brother that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, not even his PR manager’s scoldings and nagging can deter him from running away from all of these to you, and hell hes sure not even if the world ended right in front him right now would he hesitate before running with all hes ever known, even faster than he runs during these matches to get to you, to at least kiss you once last time before you two turn into mash like those zombie movies that perhaps have gotten a little too into his head.

and he ticks his tongue again at that same question. are you dating someone? he sees you from the corner of his eye, walking away from the venue likely going to his car to get some warmth at least, and he cant stand to see you walk alone and so it leaves before he realises. “yes.” one word before he runs as though he’s back right into another life-or-death situation on the field. runs as though that is his only way of salvation, runs as though hes chasing after world - you. and its with you he thinks that he loses that logical and cold persona that everyone forces on him - because with you, hes just itoshi rin, your boyfriend and not any of the names the media and the world wants to throw on him whether positive of negative.

itoshi sae:

every time he goes back to japan, he swears his luck goes all the way down - first time where he goes home and finds out that his middle school had closed down where he went there the morning after, second time where he realises the convenience store he goes to closed down for the very week he was staying, and third time where he finds a photograph of him buying a ring for you going viral online. and he finds out when he sees you giggling hunched over on the other side of the red. his right side feels awfully ice cold without your arms wrapping around his body drooling in your sleep that he’s much more used to. if anything, he’s more surprised that youre awake - he doesn’t know what time it is, a stark contrast to him in spain that’s practically like a robot to the way he automatically wakes up at six on the dot and automatically does his exercise routine on auto pilot - all he knows is that its certainly too early for you to be leaving his side to laugh at god knows what. its only in your apartment that he gets to act all grumpy as though he’s back to been thirteen sleeping over at your house where he spends the night completely awake at your tight embrace on him as though he’s your plushie that’s now on the floor abandoned for his warmth and wakes up completely sleep-deprived that’s remedied by your bright grin. he doesn’t hesitate to turn a little to your side and snake his hands around your waist, his hands fitting right with your body, earning a flinch from you from his ice cold hands that contrasts with your warmth. its only then he realises his surprise has been completely spoiled - its not the only thing the media has pretty much put a dent in his life, constant comparison that drove a wedge deeper into him and his brother relationship, flip-flopping between praise and criticism of each and every of his gameplay on the field that makes him secretly doubt his own self that he doesn’t wish to admit, and now spoiling a surprise he was excited thinking of spending the two of your life together for the rest of eternity. your laugh clears any of the black cloudy joke that hazes over his mind with negative thoughts of self doubt, of insecurities, of irrational fear in your eyes, you don’t hesitate to hold him in your embrace, turning him back to his previous sleeping position - away from your phone, away from any distraction, away from the outside world. and he knows, he knows, even with that surprised spoiled, he’s sure you might just say yes to the diamond ring he still has kept in a dark red box right in his luggage tonight for a home-cooked dinner.

and he supposes he can give the media a glimpse of his life once in a while, playing the disappearance act for a few months as per usual before he posts a photo of you and him - draped in white cloth surrounded by white flowers with you and his friends and family at the side away from the camera, draped in jewelleries that he’s surprising not well-known to in the media that’s picky about the picture-perfect facade of itoshi sae that they have long decided on, draped in each others tugging at each other with nothing but love between both of you. in this world, its you and him whether or not with the media included or not, but he can’t help but to show you off to the world his angel can he?

[freyito]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪᴍᴇʀᴀ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ...

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti, mr. reca, sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, jiaoqiu, moze, mydei, phainon, anaxa (seperate) x reader

✩ in which: you bring home a chimera that looks like them.

✧ a/n: SOMEHOW IT FEELS LIKE ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE POSTED A FIC??? IDK IF THIS IS NORMALLY HOW LONG IT TAKES ME BUT AUGHHH!!!!!!! i got a job again and many more things happening irl but i am FINALLY! FINALLY!!! starting to get back into the groove of writing and drawing and even gaming teehee... sometimes all you need is a change to get out of a slump i guess.

you may also notice that a few characters are missing from this post! thats cause whenever i do one of these big ol posts, a couple of characters really tend to make it feel like it drags on for me. that leads to me really dreading writing the fic and, of course, leads to me taking a month on the fic lol. this will be one of the last posts i do with all the male characters (and female, if i ever decide to write for them in the future), before i move onto writing five characters at most. im sorry if you guys liked these posts and your favorite characters werent written for, i know these are like. my most popular pieces. it just takes so long and by the time i reach certain characters i feel like im all outta juice.

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread

✎ wc: 4.3k

⎯ Aventurine

“Well… I suppose we’ll see how this goes…”

AVENTURINE isn’t exactly against the idea of a chimera, but with all his catcakes, is it a good idea…? Both of you don’t know, and you feel a little embarrassed to admit that you didn’t think of this before bringing home the chimera. He’s not mad though, he’s quite taken by the little creature. But, with his penchant to collect catcakes, he worries about possible socialization issues.

The chimera, however, fits right in– aside from its striking eyes. Loafing and lounging with the catcakes, day in, day out. With a big ol’ smile on its cute face, happy to be with its kin�� You think. Chimeras have the body of lion cubs, right? So aren’t they like… kind of related to catcakes? It’s a question you’d rather not ponder. Still, even so far from home, the chimera seems quite content. Paired with a bunch of companions who are all spoiled equally.

That being said, it seems you have chosen one of the laziest chimeras known to man. Ever since you had brought it home, it had kept Aventurine in bed even later, refusing to get up from his chest, even if the man had a meeting. It seems Aventurine has spoiled it far too much, or it has gotten so used to the comfortable life that it’s gotten quite stubborn…

⎯ Dr. Ratio

“Interesting….”

Most would not take RATIO as any type of pet person. No cats, certainly no dogs, no birds… the list goes on. Even his colleagues would not have guessed he’d take such a shine to such a… cute creature. As far as they know, cute is not a word within Ratio’s vocabulary. So, when his peers and students see a chimera toddling behind him, they can’t help but be interested.

He acts like he isn’t attached to the chimera, treating it more like a specimen than the cute little lion-butterfly-thing it is. When you first brought it to him, he was quite intrigued. A creature from a planet that not even the memokeepers can reach… It's a wonderful research opportunity, and a gift. One he cherishes, despite his logical approach to it. 

It seems he has bonded with the chimera on a deeper level than you expected. It just so happens that you have picked up a chimera that not only looks like Veritas, but also one that was just as enlightened as he was. You think. You don’t understand a lick of the chimera’s little chirps, but Ratio seems to understand well enough. Then again, the math that he prattles on about with the chimera, you don’t understand either.

⎯ Boothill

“Awh, who’s this little feller?”

BOOTHILL is actually quite delighted when you bring a chimera home to him, even if your reasoning is a little… odd. Looks like him? Well, there’s only one of him and that means there’s only one look-alike; the man in the mirror. Still, despite this, he’s practically in love with the chimera. It’s been so long since he’s even had a pet– and he’s always missed the dogs and cats on the ranch– so why not indulge in your silly little shenanigans, and appreciate this little critter you’ve taken the time to pick out for him?

The two get along so well. Boothill had always wanted a pet eventually, but with his lifestyle he was afraid to ever adopt. Considering he was running around half the galaxy, he was wanted, and the closest thing to home he knew now was a ship, it was just unfair to subject any sort of animal to that life. Now that he had you and a proper home, however, he had been debating getting a pet for a long, long while.

So imagine his surprise when you had handed off a chimera to him the minute he got home after a particularly rough bounty. Even the most snarkiest, annoying personality would have him charmed. It could constantly choose you over him, and he’d still fawn over the thing. He’s happy you have someone to keep you company when he’s away, but the little kid in him (who remained, despite the fact that everything around him had burned to ash) is much more happy to come home to a pet once more.

⎯ Gallagher

“Another stray, hm?”

Despite the chimera’s protests that it is not a stray, GALLAGHER doesn’t seem to mind a new pet. He’ll just pretend he didn’t hear that comment about the chimera looking like him. You had compared him to a dog so many times before, that he was practically immune. Even if a chimera wasn't a dog, or a cat, or… well, there was no use in wondering what exactly it was. Though, he was quite intrigued that you had brought home something from Amphoreus of all places, it seems that the nameless just keep going for bigger and bigger marks.

The chimera itself is quite happy to get away from its work and laze about. On the days that Gallagher is home, it enjoys curling up on his lap (or his chest, if Gallagher is napping), and bathing in his and your attention. It’s quite domestic really, you have seen Gallagher with his other pets before, but he’s more of a big dog kind of guy. To see something relatively small curled up with him, when he’s watching TV or getting ready for bed, it makes you feel… light.

He’s also quite happy to have a pet that can actually talk back. Gallagher often catches himself muttering to himself because of how much he tends to talk to his pets. So when he gets responses from the chimera, even if it’s asking to go back to bed or telling him that this work is just ‘too much’ (all Gallagher was doing was pouring himself a drink, the chimera simply chose to follow him), it was still wonderful for him to have a buddy. It’s not everyday that you have a pet that can talk back to you, right?

⎯ Sunday

“Ah… you thought of me…?”

Now, SUNDAY isn’t against pets, he’s just a little nervous. The last pet he had… Well, you know what happened to it. But, by all means a chimera is an extraterrestrial. So, naturally, he’s a little shocked. Even if the little chimera is as cute as a button and just so damn happy to be in his lap. While he knew stepping aboard the Astral Express would mean he would see quite a lot– which included different planets, and by proxy, different flora, fauna, people, and what not– he never really expected to be face to face with such a… thing.

Looking into its wide, golden eyes, however, he feels a sense of… kinship. As weird as it is. He does his best to ignore it, not to get too overly attached to the chimera. After all, surely you must bring it back to Amphoreus. Right? He does his best to ignore the papers in your hands, and chooses instead to believe that this ‘adoption’ is more of a ‘foster’ situation.

That worry dissipates with the coming days. He finds himself quite enamored with the chimera, even sneaking it leftovers when he can. He doesn’t mean to, but he ends up reading the creature passages from his books, or from some data entries he borrowed from the archive. In fact, the idea that you would have to bring the chimera back breaks his heart a little. Not that you would, it’s quite cute to watch the chimera follow Sunday around.

⎯ Argenti

“What a stunning creature!”

Isn’t the word ‘cute’ better instead? Nevertheless, ARGENTI is quite enraptured by the chimera. So much so that he doesn’t seem to realize the similarity of the creature. Really, when you saw the sparkle in its eyes, you knew this was perfect for him. The similarity was uncanny, really. With the way the chimera was staring into your very soul, chattering off (which, you could already imagine it was praising the beauty of you), a part of you wanted to get it contacts.

Needless to say, The chimera is glued to Argenti. Or perhaps it's the other way around? The man doesn’t have any traveling companions, and he had preferred for you to stay on his ship whenever he was out on one of his excursions. The chimera, however, seemed to be quite the trusty companion. That little ‘awoo’ must be vicious, given how highly the man spoke of it. ‘It’s like a cry from the very heavens!’

It seems your gift is quite well loved, though. Not that Argenti would ever dislike your gifts. You could give him a rock– one that isn’t even shiny or shaped in an interesting way– and he’d treat it like you’d have proposed to him. The chimera, however, seems to have struck a rather special chord within him. It is hard to know if you’ve truly surprised him, but you can definitely see how attached he is to the chimera. It has been too long since someone gave him something so meaningful. Perhaps even the first time.

⎯ Mr. Reca

“Ah, is this a new crew member…? Or perhaps, a new star?”

Is there a universe where MR. RECA isn’t looking for some scene to capture? ‘Cause it’s definitely not this one. No one has ever had the ability to capture something, anything from Amphoreus, so of course he’s fascinated with the chimera. He glosses over the fact that the critter looks like him. Not enough time to think about that, when this is a star in the making. What shall he come up with this time?

He unknowingly dotes on that poor little Chimera, as well… in his own way. There’s no critiques for the creature's performance (though, you must think that it doesn’t understand exactly what Reca’s goal is.), only dazzling praise, even for something as simple as curling up and taking a nap. Such a tiny little thing, full of all sorts of inspiration! It deserves nothing more than the best of praise!

For at least a month straight, he simply cannot stop thinking of ideas and ways to make the chimera a star. A documentary, perhaps. No, no, that’s too simple. A thriller, maybe? Now, that would be interesting. How could he use such a cute creature for such a medium…? Ah, so many things to work out! This excitement keeps him fueled for days. Oftentimes, he’s writing out scenes at his desk, pacing, or even talking your ear off. All while the chimera is curled up in his lap, content as can be.

⎯Sampo Koski

“And what’s this? A new business venture?”

Of course SAMPO looks at the chimera and sees a business opportunity. Not that he’s planning to sell it, no… this little fella could be the new face of his business. Cold Feet Junior, even. Needless to say, he loves the chimera. Who wouldn’t? Such a precious little treasure from way out there, somewhere not even the great Sampo Koski can get to.

Aside from the chimera now being the face of his business, he brings the thing everywhere like it’s a little chihuahua. It gets pampered to high heaven, with little treats even you have never heard about before. From all sorts of places, from Izumo to Punklorde. You start to wonder if these treats are even good for the chimera, considering just how different these foods must be from the ones back home. The chimera seems fine enough, however.

When he can’t bring the chimera with him, however, he’s the most pathetic man you know. He’ll fake cry, use a voice that is just so tear-jerking, and say a sorrowful goodbye to the chimera. He texts you everyday when he is out, begging for pictures, asking if it's okay, asking if it's eaten… and so on. You, of course, do your best to shower him with pictures of the chimera, assuring him that it’s never been better. To which, he always responds with some sort of keyboard smash (rare for him), and praises going your way, and the chimeras way.

⎯ Jing Yuan

“Hmm…”

JING YUAN could never turn down a gift from you, of course. Especially one so cute. If you hadn’t caught him at such an inopportune time (also known as nap time), perhaps his reaction would be more grand. Or the same, he’s never been one for big expressions. A simple ‘thank you’, a kiss, and something in return has always been his style. However,  this seems like a lot more than just a simple gift. A creature from Amphoreus… and a potential playmate for Mimi.

‘Potentially’ becomes a ‘definitely’ after some socializing. Instead of the chimera attaching itself to Jing Yuan, it’s very, very fond of Mimi. The grimalkin is quite well tempered, if not tolerant. The way the Chimera climbs onto him, like he is a mighty steed and not a proud lion… it’s charming in its own way. And yet, all Mimi does is maybe huff a little, and be on his merry way. Most of the time, he’d do the exact opposite the chimera wanted, by the sound of its annoyed chirps. Perhaps this was his way of playing with such a smaller creature…?

The chimera ultimately finds its spot on the bed. When you and Jing Yuan cuddled up, Mimi took his spot at the end of the bed. The chimera, unsure whether to stick themself at the end of the bed, in between you and Jing Yuan, or just sleep on the floor. Before it decides to exclude itself, Mimi makes the decision for it. With another huff (perhaps irritated that he had to leave his warm spot), he hops down from the bed, grabs the chimera by its scruff (not without it complaining, of course), and hops right back up. When you wake up in the morning, you find the chimera, stuck between Mimi’s paws, with the most content, familiar, smile on its face, while Mimi licks up its cheek repeatedly.

⎯ Blade

“...”

How many more times will this happen? First a cat cake, now a chimera. What’s next? A seal? BLADE really doesn’t know how to react. To be thought of is wonderful, but does it really always have to be in this kind of way? How many more creatures out there look like him? He can only hope you don’t find them for your ‘Blade collection’. Those poor, poor souls…

Regardless of his… pondering, the gift doesn’t go unappreciated. The chimera and Blade are like two halves of a whole, really. While Blade is sulking, so is the chimera… right next to him. When you adopted it, you swore it was just full of energy. Chirping and chattering to anyone who would listen, chimera, human, chrysos heir, no one was free from its chattering. In truth, you thought it was silly that something that held such a resemblance to such a broody man had such whimsy.

So, to see the little critter suddenly adapt Blade’s sulking and… edge, it’s a little surprising. Or not, if you understood how this tale has gone before. It’s actually kind of cute in its own odd way. When you point out the similarities in personality, all Blade feels he can do is grumble and huff. He should be used to your penchant for finding things that look and act like him by now, but somehow you always manage to surprise him. 

⎯ Luocha

“What an… intriguing gift…”

LUOCHA is never one to turn down your gifts, and he certainly won’t start now. But, despite the worlds he has traveled to and all he’s seen, somehow he’s never seen quite a creature. Perhaps it is the resemblance that throws him off. He doesn’t want to turn down your gift, but where he travels to may not be the safest place for the little Chimera. Very rarely does he stay home long enough to take care of any pet, either. He rationalizes that while it is a little amusing, this must be for you.

And of course he isn’t going to take that kind of companionship from you. It’s actually kind of endearing to him that you went through all this trouble to find a cute little look-alike. He’s more entertained by the way you dote on it, by the way you call it ‘Luo-Luo’ (even though the Chimera seems over it), and he wonders to himself if you truly got this chimera for him, or to have something to coddle while he was away. Not that you coddled him, normally. He isn’t a man to be doted on like that, and you are just too shy to do that to him.

He indulges in the adoption of the chimera, of course. Even when he’s out for months on end, he makes sure to call and check up on the Chimera (and you, but he does that normally). He shouldn’t be so surprised to see all the little outfits you’ve stuck the critter in, from cats (which makes no sense, considering the body of a chimera was a lion), to wolves. He wonders how many people you have commissioned for these little outfits…

⎯ Jiaoqiu

“And this charming little companion is…?”

JIAOQIU truly thought that the Tuskipir would be his only pet. He didn’t really need a service animal outside of the emotional support, considering he had a cane, and he knew the Yaoqing like the back of his hand. You, however, decide that if one critter does well, why won’t two do better? Plus, while the Tuskipir was used for more emotional wellbeing, Chimeras were experienced with work, and when you think about it, they’d make quite the service animals. 

What a shame that he can’t see the resemblance clearly. Still, he is quite touched by the thoughtfulness behind your gift. The chimera warms up to him all too easily, immediately taking its place by his side. Jiaoqiu doesn’t verbally admit it, but being thought of in such a way, especially after a trip that took you across the cosmos warms his heart. Even if he is pretty much completely recovered, it was quite nice to be cared for. Even as a healer.

In truth, as endearing as your gift was, he had expected the chimera to get in his way, under his legs, and become annoying in all sorts of ways. Given how happily it yipped and barked when you first arrived with it, he truly assumed it would be an annoyance. He’s pleasantly surprised that once the chimera has acclimated and settled, it becomes a wonderful companion. Chimera’s stomachs are so strong, you think, watching as Jiaoqiu feeds the critter a particular slice of beef that almost looks red, with the amount of spice he has put in the hotpot broth.

⎯ Moze

“I… Hm.”

It is rare for MOZE to talk without thinking. It is even rarer to interrupt his thoughts all together. You should be impressed with yourself. When met with the gloomy demeanor of the Chimera, Moze can only squint, open his mouth to form words, and ultimately lose them. What is he supposed to say? He’s never had a pet before, the strays in the alleyways who liked his scent were the closest thing to having one. All he really can do is hold the Chimera and stare into those oddly familiar eyes.

There is a quiet camaraderie between the two, once the confusion settles from Moze’s mind. When Moze is home (considering his work is too dangerous for any sort of pet), the two have a tacit, quiet understanding that you can’t quite… get. The Chimera follows Moze around, at a distance, and studies him closely, as if trying to commit his movements to memory. You swear, at some point, you heard Moze say ‘this is how you sweep’. When you walked in the room to check, the two were quiet as can be, while Moze was sweeping the kitchen floor, the Chimera perched on the counter.

When Moze is out, the Chimera sits by the door, or in the living room, or sometimes sleeps in his spot on the bed while waiting for him. It’s almost kind of heartbreaking when you think about it, knowing Moze is gone for most of the week. At the very least, it seems the Chimera is much, much more receptive to cuddles than your dear lover is. As much as it seems to miss its twin, it can’t resist curling up in your arms and taking a nap. It seems that the Chimera catches up on sleep in Moze’s place.

⎯ Mydeimos

“Hmph.”

MYDEI refuses to acknowledge the similarity. He pouts, sighs, and does his best to walk off and ignore the furry little companion you had brought home. The chimera trots after Mydei regardless, happy as can be, even if the man was ignoring it. You had to commend him, really. If you had something that cute following you around, you would fold immediately. But Mydei was stronger than you (and much, much more stubborn).

When Mydeimos wasn’t home, the chimera took up all his spots, short of the one in the kitchen. It’d sit in his chair at the table, enjoy the warmth of the private bath, and even take his spot on the bed. Which, Mydei truly doesn’t appreciate. Some days he is out from dawn till dusk, but he has always made it a point to come back home just before you fall asleep, so the two of you could sleep together. So to find you curled up with this little rascal, who was oh so happy to take his place, he doesn’t know what to feel.

He’s not jealous. No, no, he swears he isn’t. Why would he be jealous of a chimera? How silly. Despite that, you notice how he’s suddenly in much more of a rush to see you on the days that he is gone. He tries to beat the chimera to the bed, establishes his dominance in the kitchen (as if anyone could beat him), and makes it known– well.. you don’t know what he’s trying to prove to a chimera of all things. But it’s quite funny watching him try to one-up the creature, who was simply acting oblivious. Everytime you pet the chimera or praise it, you can always hear Mydei sigh. It’s not that he was neglecting the chimera in any way, not, he just had to one-up it. Almost every time he could.

⎯ Phainon

“Aha… Do I really look like this thing…?”

You are the third person to tell PHAINON a certain chimera looks like him. It worries him a little. Does he, a truly fearsome warrior that totally doesn’t have the air of a puppy, look like such a cute little creature? Looking into the chimera’s eyes, which are practically shining, he can’t help but concede… only for you, though. 

The very first thing this chimera does is challenge Phainon himself. To his surprise (and dismay), the chimera starts to take all his favorite spots.  Right by your legs, on your chest when you're sleeping, or when you're just laying down, and even in the baths. You find it cute, but Phainon… he’s not one to turn down a challenge, even if it’s initiated by a chimera. He takes every chance he can get to sweep you up off your feet and carry you off somewhere the chimera can only watch, like the hot baths.

While you find this kind of charming, if not funny, you can't help but feel bad for the chimera. When you show even the smallest amount of pity for it, however, Phainon decides its time to switch tactics. Instead of taking everything the Chimera did as a challenge, now it was a battle of charm. Anytime the Chimera begs for food (within his proximity), he rests his chin on your shoulder and tries to snatch the food from you. If the Chimera is sleeping on your lap, he makes an effort to also try and lay his head in your lap, and always, always, looks up at you with those pretty blues. You have to admit it's cute, but kind of pathetic. Not that you would ever want him to change.

⎯ Anaxagoras

“Hmph. But it is no Dromas.”

You, of course, know about ANAXA’s love for Dromases more than anything. You were one of the few who were graced by him and his magnificent onesie’s presence, after all. But, still, when you saw the little chimera, with its muted green coat and its missing eye, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Perhaps he is truly amused at the fact that you have found his doppelganger? Or maybe he’s finally figured out where one of his eyepatches has finally gone… either way, his tone is hard to read.

It is not long until you notice how he dotes on the chimera… in his own way, at least. He doesn’t outright ignore the critter when it toddles behind him, and on more than one occasion you have caught him talking to it, prattling on about his theories while he cleans his gun. Despite acting annoyed that you had taken one of his eyepatches for a ‘silly little costume’, he does not attempt to remove it. Not once. You take this as a victory, of course.

The real kicker is when you caught him sewing a Dromas onesie for the Chimera. His hands aren’t the steadiest, but he sits so quietly (for once), all while the Chimera lays curled up right next to his legs. You don’t mean to stare for too long, but he ends up catching you. Instead of acting shy (Which, he never did), and brushing you off, he only huffs softly, and shakes his head, before going back to his sewing. You read this as an invitation to properly watch, and when you step into the room, he doesn’t complain.

© freyito, 2025 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS

[b1mbodoll]

pairings: lee heeseung x f! reader

warnings: hybrids + oral + somnophilia + biting + anal mention + hee cums in his pants

💌: lion hybrid! heeseung and somnophilia <3 probably repetitive but ‘m too shy to have someone fully proofread this before i post, so deal with it! /lh

lions are typically more active at night so it’s no surpise your hybrid stays up late, watching you as you sleep, your chest rising falling steadily.

it’s become part of heeseung’s nightly routine since you adopted him to “protect” you; stalking around your living room whenever a car passes by, his tail flicking in irritation because he’s always convinced that someone’s out to get his sweet, defenseless owner.

however, rather than pace around and wait for an intruder that’ll never come, tonight’s one of those nights where heeseung has to be near you; he’s lying in your bed as you sleep soundly, lazily dragging the tuft of fur at the end of his tail along your exposed leg, deep purr-like rumbles filling the quiet of your room.

little does your big catboy know of the filthy fantasies that your sleepy brain comes up with, causing you to let out breathy whines and squirm, thighs clenching together to relieve your needy cunt.

heeseung’s rounded ears twitch at the first sound you let out, grumbling appreciatively when the scent of your arousal hits his nose, the sweetness coming from your slick pussy so strong he swears he can fucking taste it, poking his tongue out as if to test that.

he wastes no time in slotting himself between your legs, his furry ears tickling the skin of your inner thighs as he shreds your sleep shorts and panties, rough tongue swiping from your cunt to your clit before delving into your tight heat, juices already collecting on his chin.

your lion’s a possessive one, fucking his textured tongue into you like he’s trying to ensure your cunt remembers that you’re his.

sure you technically own him, at least on paper; but in this moment, he owns you.

owns your cunt, your clit, hell, even your tight asshole that he’s never once touched, but dreams of ruining.

maybe one day he will; just not tonight.

no, tonight is for your pleasure, not his, despite how fucking hard his barbed cock is beneath his sweatpants, pearlescent beads of precum already causing a wet patch to form where his length lays.

the obscene sound of slurping and heeseung’s deep groans against your leaking pussy should be enough to wake you, but there you lay, unknowingly grinding into hee’s face because of your dream and the pleasure that feels all too real.

you let out another moan, from the pleasure heeseung offers or the erotic dream playing in your subconscious is up for debate, but it causes him to lose his mind a little more, spreading your thighs further and pulling away for a moment, just to press his nose against your cunt, letting his mind go a little foggy as he takes in the scent of your arousal.

meanwhile in your pretty little head, dream hee’s pounding away at your pussy, the tip of his cock pressing a kiss to your cervix with each harsh thrust he delivers, tail wrapped around your leg as his sharp teeth tease the soft skin of your neck, causing you to beg for him to do it; bite me, you whisper, please.

your mumbled plea makes heeseung freeze.

are you awake? sleeptalking? do you mean it?

who knows? he surely doesn’t, and he doesn’t want you awake.. not yet, at least. but who is he to deny his beloved owner’s request?

so he begrudgingly parts from your pussy altogether, nuzzling his face against one of your thighs, squeezing it with his large hand before opening his mouth, deadly canines used to bite, rip, tear, are instead being used to graze your delicate skin, afraid to draw blood.

god, does heeseung want to rip into your flesh.

not because he wants to harm you, no; but simply because he wants his mark on you; his teeth imprinted on your exposed skin, punctures specifically from his canines.

it’d be so easy to break through the skin, he thinks. his hybrid features would make sure of that; there’d be no resistance.

well.. maybe from you.

he knows it’d probably hurt you, yet the thought of you squirming and scrambing to escape the pain make his soaked cock twitch.

heeseung opts for marking you with hickeys. just for now, he reminds himself. he’ll claim you soon enough, he just has to be a little patient. you are a human, after all.

a soft, delicate, dumb human; oblivious to the apex predator that’s using all his restraint to keep from wrecking you as you sleep.

he lets out a whine. it’s unlike him to let out such a… pathetic noise. you should be the one whining.

it’s desperate, laced with need, and it drags on as he laves his tongue along your inner thigh, leaving a trail of thick saliva in its wake until he’s finally reached your empty hole again.

your juices dribble between the crack of your ass and heeseung doesn’t think twice; his tongue is already following the trail, collecting the slick before the pink muscle is poking and licking at your pussy, tail flicking behind him contently.

his movements are sloppy now, face flushed red and his hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat, ears perked and alert, ready to catch any noise that he draws from you.

meanwhile, your fantasy has shifted to dream heeseung eating you out while you’re sat on his face and it’s intense. your mind is either really fucking good at making these feel real, or you’re just so infatuated with your hybrid that you’re able to dream up a perfect replica of his moans and grunts of pleasure.

okay your dreams are normally good but this.. is different. the vibrations against your center feel too real to just be in your head… and his sounds of pleasure are too accurate… and fuck, you’re going to cum.

your climax builds, knot in your stomach tightening, and your mouth falls open in a groan, thighs clenching tight but not..touching?

is that a pillow between your legs? no.. it’s not soft enough.. are those ears? what the fuck?

your orgasm begins to wash over you in your sleep, but then you wake yourself with a squeal due to his tongue, the feeling too much to ignore and your eyes drop between yourself to see heeseung there. he looks breathtakingly beautiful; almost innocent. were it not for his nose and chin wet with your cream, doe eyes peering up at you and it’s disarming.

how does such a dangerous hybrid look so inviting?

however, that’s a thought for another day. at the moment, you’re too lost in pleasure to deny yourself from reaching down and tangling your fingers in his hair, making contact with his sensitive ears and the sensation has heeseung’s eyes rolling back in pleasure, his moan is absolutely sinful, vibrations once again felt directly on your pussy making you keen.

heeseung is cumming, spilling his hot load in his pants all while you roll your hips against his face, chasing yet another orgasm.

the second one hits harder because it’s real.

it’s really heeseung, not just in your head.

he wants you just as badly and it makes your brain shortcircuit, painting his face in your essence again.

the two of you take a moment to collect yourselves, panting and coming down from your highs, but heeseung brings you back to reality instantly by dragging the furry end of his tail along your inner thigh, grinning up at you dumbly.

he’s just getting started.

[clawsdevour]

pervy

wc: 0.5k content warning: post-timeskip, established relationship, suna x reader, smut, masturbation, not proofread.. pervy suna is the vision :3

့✿⠀ —

suna's not one to admit, unless caught red handed, that he is one heck of a pervert.

ever since you two started dating, you can't help but notice his eyes staring at you through the mirror whenever you changed in his bathroom. testing this theory, you always left a little visible crack to see if he'd be right behind the wooden border that divided the two rooms.

it was no coincidence either whenever you open your drawer to grab a new pair of undies or a bra to put on and see them out of order.. what a perv. always, you can't help but set up these "traps" to catch suna in the act. though, you haven't caught him fully in the act, just slightly.

a few days ago you slept over, and maybe left all your dirty clothes at his place to which he'd do the laundry for. heading over, you thought it'd be nice to help suna with the laundry since you should probably also take your stranded pieces of clothing home as well instead of just leaving it somewhere at his place.

whenever you came over, you never bothered to message him since you have his location. a tap away, is how you'll know suna's home, and of course he was.

using the spare key he gave you, you quietly turn the knob to do a sneak attack to surprise him. though, walking in, it was pitch silent. not a word, a sound. the lights were all off. you're thinking to yourself, something's weird, maybe he's still asleep since it's still early?

dropping your stuff on the couch, you walk to suna's room. at the door is when your ears start to pick up on something. though, it wasn't very audible. pressing your ear on the cold door, squeezing your eyes shut trying to focus on the sound.

okay well.. suna's definitely awake right?

biting your lip as you focused even harder, suna's groaning... and calling out for you? was he having a nightmare?

well shit, i gotta do something if he's having a nightmare.

putting a hand on his doorknob, you slowly and quietly twisted it to ensure he was napping. however, he wasn't… well, suna was rather engrossed in his own little hobby that made all the noise.

the moment you saw was the moment the door squeaked and caught suna's attention. making eye contacted as you both your eyes widened in shock, you slam the door shut behind you while your cheeks flush a vibrant shade of pink.

there you go, you just caught suna in his perverted acts. you saw him sitting on his bed using your panties from the other night to help get him off. his t-shirt was held up using his teeth while he skillfully thrusted his cock up and down his grip that surrounded your panties that were damp with his essence.

his brows were so furrowed at the thought of you, pretending his hand was your warm and tight cunt that wrapped around his length. a sheen layer of sweat covered the top of his forehead while it creased to the of pleasure spread upon his skin. his slender eyes were shut so tight the moment he was about to reach his climax till he heard the door squeak open.

maybe you should help suna out.

masterlist here

[bootycallin]

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🍒 ⋅ ˚✮ want me that top!

꩜ .ᐟ basically; vi’s the type of top…

cw; female reader. tons of praise. fingering (r! receiving). pet names (baby, babe, etc.). vi can’t stop yapping (💀), softdom! vi. not proofread.

a/n: first thing i post omfg. i got into arcane recently and wrote this on a whim, i want this woman so bad. if u see any more warnings i missed, please tell me!

NSFW UTC.

vi’s that type of top that just wants to see you feeling good <3

vi’s that type of top that just can’t shut up. she can’t help it. praises spill from her mouth like a leaky sink when she pushed herself on top of you, staring down at you with what almost seemed like heart eyes. if that was anatomically possible, it would happen to vi. or maybe there would be little birds spinning around her head. you’re so pretty it makes her dizzy.

vi’s that type of top to touch everywhere. she wants her hands all over you. she wants every part of you to be properly appreciated. she wants her handprints, her nail indents all across your skin.

vi’s that type of top to also kiss everywhere. no matter if you think it’s weird or embarrassing. she just wants herself all over you. she wants her dna mixed with yours, she wants her skin to melt into yours. if she could blend you and her, she would do it. but she’ll settle for just marking you in every way she can.

vi’s that type of top to almost never touch you too hard. she might touch you firmly, but never once will she try to bruise you. she could never, even if she tried— your skin is just too perfect, *you’re* too perfect to be marked and marred by bruises. she does get a little out of control sometimes, though… she’s trying!

vi’s that type of top to sniff you like a dog. you might be sweating, sticky and all, but she doesn’t care. she wants to smell your skin. she wants to breathe and live you. so she’ll keep her face buried into your shoulder at any time she can, trying to commit your scent to memory until all she can breathe is you.

vi’s that type of top that wants to feel you. she doesn’t really like straps, only when she’s stressed and really just needs to fuck some of it away. vi likes fingering you. she likes feeling you from the inside out, feeling how wet you are, your warm, soft texture against her roughened fingertips.

vi’s that type of top who just can’t stop yapping when you’re about to cum. yeah? gonna cum for me, princess? come on, give it to me, baby. it’s what she does when she gets excited— also when she gets nervous, but she’d rather die than to admit that. she just wants you to feel good.

vi’s that type of top to be shameless. she’s vocal and she can’t shut up and she loves you. truly a killer combo.

“s’ fuckin’ pretty,” she groans into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss up and down, stopping to gently tug at your skin. her hands are under you, one grabbing and squeezing one of your thighs as she keeps it apart for her, the other pressed against your sobbing cunt, knuckles deep where you want her most, palm squishing against your poor, sensitive clit.

“vii,” you whined, hips bucking against her. she shushed you, gently biting your skin again as though it was a warning.

“shh. good girl, good girl, that’s it— fuuuck…”

you could’ve sworn she was the one getting fucked with how she grunted and groaned. she wanted to smack herself for being so weak, so mushy. it wasn’t her fault you felt so damn good squeezing around her, gummy walls molded to the shape of her fingers.

“shit… so fuckin’ perfect, my pretty girl,” she mutters against your skin, fingers digging deeper and deeper into your cunt, rubbing against the top side of your pussy to try and find that special little spot that made you cry for her.

“so fuckin’ sweet, ain’t you? yeah,” she muttered, squeezing your thigh, then giving it a soft smack. “so fuckin’ sweet. pussy so fuckin’ sweet, so fucking wet…”

the way she speaks, almost nonchalantly, the way she says those types of things so damn easily— it was always something that surprised you about vi. she could say the dirtiest things ever and yet make it sound so sickeningly endearing— and exciting. you gush around her hand, slick covering her fingers, and you can hear her chuckle softly.

“oh gosh, baby. you’re dripping,” she briefly pulls her fingers out of your pussy just to see the wetness that coats her fingers, much to your dismay. your whines of protest are quickly quieted when she presses the tips of her fingers to your twitchy clit, rubbing soft circles against it.

“vi, please…” you whined, not even sure what you wanted. you just wanted her in general, you needed her.

“please what, baby?” she muttered, like she didn’t know damn well what you wanted. “words, sweet thing. i’m no mind reader,” she was smirking, and you could hear it in her voice. she could be so mean.

“please, fuck—“ you whimpered, hips bucking against her fingers to try and seek friction, trying to look for some respite for the aching down there, the growing need. “please… please, wanna cum…”

you expected there to be some more begging, but you cut yourself off with a moan as you feel her fingers prod at your entrance again, slipping in with ease, her thumb now pressed against your clit to follow. you almost scream when she finds that spongy spot inside you, the knot that was building in your stomach tightening impossibly more. “fuck, how can i deny you, baby?”

she really couldn’t. not when you looked so damn cute, squirming and crying, face as red as a tomato. she pulls her face from your shoulder to look up at you, soft blue eyes almost peering into your soul.

“viii.. gonna-“

“gonna cum, baby?” she’s rubbing the pads of her fingers against your g-spot, thumb circling your hardened bud at the same deliberate pace. it was slow, but not lazy. if anything, it was careful. meticulous. measured. she wanted to give you the best orgasm you’ve ever had—which wasn’t really hard for her, but she tried her damndest every time.

“you’re dripping, babe,” she muttered against the love of your ear, briefly kissing over it, “fuck. gonna cum, aren’t you, baby? gonna cum f’me?”

you can just barely whine out her name, eyes rolling back, and she smiles, pleased with herself. she doesn’t let herself stop though. “fuck, yeah… just let it go, baby. wanna see you cum f’me. cmon, give it to me, baby, yeah, just cum f’me…”

and it doesn’t take much more of her dirty talk and praise for you to gush onto her palm, orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, thighs trembling, head thrown back. if she could only explain how perfect you looked. she could probably reach her own high just seeing you cum.

“fuuuck, that’s it, baby,” she grunted, kissing up and down the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving goosebumps in the trail of her lips. “that’s it. good girl, yeah… let it all out f’me. gimme everything, babe. like that, goooood girl-“

she doesn’t stop until you’re completely spent and starting to get overstimulated, shaking your head and trying to push her away by the shoulders. “good girl. so good. so fuckin’ pretty,” she mutters as she pulls her fingers out of your cunt. not before wiping her fingers up your slit to gather every ounce of your orgasm and arousal she could, bringing it to her lips shamelessly.

“vi…” she smirked. “what? just tastin’ my sweet thing.” and she kisses you, the taste of her lips mixed with your essence slipping onto your tongue. she pulls away with a sigh.

“pretty girl.” she muttered. “my perfect girl.”

vi’s that type of top that just can’t shut up, who practically begs to see you cum. because at the end of the day, all she wants is to make her baby feel good <3

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 © bootycallin on tumblr. do not copy, translate or cross post without permission. ᛝ

[kthologue]

2 + 1 — gojo satoru

synopsis. two times megumi thinks gojo is a lost cause and one time he approves of the white haired idiot

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, ooc, misogyny (from the clan heads), he is so pathetic for his wife (nauseating!), slight yandere behavior, violence, in megumi’s pov, not proofread eep

notes. can you tell i've been obsessed with the apothecary diaries? >< also how long has it been since i've posted a fic? anyways... enjoy!

fushiguro megumi has always wondered how that blue eyed idiot managed to marry you. he must have resorted to underhanded tactics; or at least that's what the sea urchin suspects. though he's never voiced it, the question has bothered him since the day he first encountered the both of you.

nobara clicks her tongue. “this is borderline creepy.” her orange eyes are filled with nothing short of distaste.

“there’s more too,” megumi’s voice responded, carefully flipping the page. the delicate artifact in his hand is something that he should have not touched. perhaps he should have wrapped it with a talisman and destroyed it while he had the chance.

it was too late for that anyway, because not even a second later, gojo satoru bursts through the shoji doors of the classroom. 

with eyes blown wide as if they were caught committing a crime (they were), the first years who had pulled three seats up to a singular desk stare at him. satoru's eyes widen behind his blindfold as he catches sight of the object of their focus.

there lies in the middle of the wooden desk was the physics textbook that all first year jujutsu tech students were required to read. however, this wasn’t just any plain old textbook. it was gojo satoru’s former textbook. brimmed with doodles of their beloved [name] sensei and gojo himself when they were back in highschool.

any free space that was not filled with words were taken up by drawings of you inside of hearts and sometimes a depiction of a chibi version of the two of you.

a true testament to gojo satoru’s pining and devotion to you.

“sensei, we can explain–” yuji attempts to explain himself but gojo holds up a hand to silence the boy. 

unlike you, megumi finds it a lot more challenging to read the white haired sorcerer’s expression with the blindfold on. he wonders if his punishment will be a painful beating disguised as a sparring session (megumi will run to you, who will scare gojo into backing down). you have that effect on him.

it seems like the heavens have answered megumi’s prayers because gojo satoru doesn’t seem to harbor any anger at his shocking revelation.

“i can’t believe you guys found this old thing.” satoru dismisses his students’ personal space by leaning closely to observe the pages. the black haired boy makes a noise of disapproval, but was quickly cut off by his benefactor. “megumi, be grateful that i’m in a good mood today.” he doesn’t elaborate the ominous message, rather choosing to hum happily as he studies his own drawings.

megumi is smart enough to keep his mouth shut. 

“i never took you to be the pathetic type,” kugisaki continues to flip through the pages of the textbook. yuji nods furiously, as if to agree to her observation.

“you seriously never noticed?” megumi mutters under his breath.

gojo places a strong hand on megumi’s back, a languid smile on his face, “it was only natural, considering the lengths i had to go through to win her over.” he ignores the way megumi gasps for air.

“seriously?” itadori asks in disbelief.

“seriously.” gojo confirms wholeheartedly.

megumi shudders, recollecting memories of times before gojo tied you down for good.

2009

“sorry i’m late!” gojo bursts through the dingy apartment door with a convenience store bag in his arm. he was breathing heavily, an indication that he had run to the apartment. an uninterested seven year old megumi doesn’t bother leaving his place on the couch to greet his benefactor.

“they’re in the kitchen,” he says in his monotone voice, eyes never leaving the book that you had just gifted him.

“they?” gojo walks up to megumi to ruffle his hair aggressively. he receives a hiss in return.

“tsumiki and [name]?” the black haired kid says it like it was obvious. his sentence is accompanied with an eyeroll.

at the mention of your name, gojo immediately perks up. megumi imagines that if he were a cat, his ears would be swiveling and his nose twitching, attuned to pick up any trace of your presence. he had just learned that from the nonfiction book in his lap. 

“[name]?! here? now?” gojo’s eyebrows are raised all the way to his forehead. the white haired sorcerer immediately started fixing his uniform and hair. megumi thinks it was comical. he was a lost cause.

the snarky look on his face is quickly wiped off when he sees gojo leaning down, mouth wide open.

“oi brat, check my breath,” gojo opens his mouth wide for megumi to check. the black haired kid shrivels up into the couch the further gojo leans down. megumi considers summoning his newly discovered jujutsu technique, hoping to avoid his fate.

“—toru? what are you doing?” your voice, like a divine intervention, stops gojo from sending megumi to the depths of despair. a sigh of relief escapes his lips.

now it was his turn to watch gojo squirm. the older male’s face contorts to an awkward smile and all of a sudden gojo is reduced to nothing but a mess.

“don’t worry about it darling!” gojo slowly turns around to face you. “agh—?!”

megumi has to peek around satoru’s big frame to see what elicited such a response from the man.

he’s met with a wave of underwhelming familiarity. there you stand, clad in a frilly apron with a wooden spoon in hand, the essence of domesticity incarnate. the soft glow of the warm kitchen lights dances around you, casting a warm aura that seems to envelop the room.

“welcome home, satoru.” you give him your signature closed eye smile. “i mean, you probably don’t consider it your home but—“

you’re cut off by satoru banging his head on the nearest wall repeatedly. he’s muttering something under his breath that you don’t hear.

to his dismay, megumi's keen ears catch every syllable. satoru's voice, though hushed, carries a hint of longing, "what an angel," he whispers, his words laced with adoration. "just marry me already."

unamused, he watches while you try to desperately pry gojo from his strange outburst.

a lost cause indeed.

2009

in that very year, megumi learns that gojo’s efforts to win your affection had yielded no progress. it had become increasingly apparent that his frequent visits to megumi and tsumiki's humble home were motivated to immerse himself in the semblance of domesticity that your presence offered. megumi almost pitied the man, if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew you deserve someone more sensible.

me

[name]

[nameeeee]

i’m dying.

and it’s your fault t^t

[name] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

excuse me?

me

i’ll have you know that i worked the hardest that i have ever worked to finish all of my paperwork so i could see you tonight… only to find out from megumi that you’re on a date?!!?

i feel like my chest is caving in. 

i’m going to throw up.

[name] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

oh this is what you’re interrupting my date for?

me

i’m going to be sick.

please tell me, is he hotter than me? wealthier? funnier?

megumi quickly looks away from gojo’s phone screen when the white haired male slams it shut and mutters under his breath a couple of curses. he’s pretty sure half of them were death threats.  honestly, couldn't you have attracted someone with more dignity?

“change of plans,” gojo claps his hands together. “movie night’s off.”

“what?” megumi protests, confusion etched in his features.

“our beloved [name] is getting swept off of her feet. you wouldn’t want that to happen, right?” gojo continues, his tone light but his gaze sharp as it bores into megumi's soul. something unpleasant coils in the pit of his stomach.

megumi feels a chill run down his spine, his mind racing with the implications of gojo's words. if you choose to date this new guy, he realizes, you won't need him or gojo anymore. and that thought terrifies him. it pains megumi to feed into gojo's delusions.

but he can’t let this unnamed suitor steal you away.

a wolfish grin makes its way to gojo’s mouth when he realizes that he’s won.

“what's the plan?”

2016

it was only years later that megumi had seen the true monster that lurks inside of gojo satoru. 

on a hot summer evening, amidst a gathering of esteemed clan heads, he and satoru found themselves in a traditional chamber. while the finer details of the meeting escape his memory, the image of the room that altered his perception of gojo satoru is etched in his mind indefinitely. the wooden walls, adorned with subtle yet elegant designs, speak volumes about the room’s significance as a venue for the most influential members of jujutsu society.

throughout the meeting, he finds himself driving in and out of focus, content to let his mentor represent the gojo clan. however, his attention is abruptly seized by a particular remark that cuts through the haze of his thoughts.

“how’s that whore of yours, gojo?” a clan head jeered, clearly drunk on the sake that was constantly refilled by the servant on the side. his flushed complexion is scarcely discernible thanks to the dim glow emanating from the few lanterns scattered around the room. 

there was only one person he could have been referring to: you. underneath the wooden table, his fingers tightened painfully into fists. pretentious bastards, megumi thinks.

another geezer rubbed his beard thoughtfully, “she has a nice body. perfect to be a concubine, but i would marry a more submissive woman.”

megumi's gaze stealthily darts towards gojo, seated beside him.

he’s startled to find the white-haired man wears a wide grin that belies a hidden truth. unseen by the elders before them, lurking beneath gojo's outward expression, is a manic gleam in his eyes—a revelation that sends a shiver down megumi's spine.

“i’d hold my tongue if i were you.” gojo satoru’s voice was dripping with venom. he sounded downright murderous.

"i'm right, am i not? we can share her if you'd like- name the price." the drunkard continues loudly.

megumi senses an instinctive wave of primal dread washing over him, compelling him with an urgent, almost instinctual need to flee or die.

before he can move a muscle, the flames that surround the room flicker before extinguishing in succession by an unknown force. the metallic stench of blood fills the air and all he can hear is the sound of flesh mutilating and bones crushing accompanied by the painful shouts of the men that once sat in front of him. he doesn’t have to see it with his own eyes to be able to sense gojo’s strong curse residue that suffocates the room.

“stand up megumi. we’re leaving.” his voice carries a feral edge, leaving no room for objection.

on their way out of the compound, the two don’t utter a word at what had just transpired. 

megumi's gaze remains fixed on the ground beneath his feet, the images of the recent events swirling in his mind, leaving him unsettled and shaken. with each step, he grapples with the unsettling realization that beneath gojo satoru's charismatic facade lies a darker, more sinister nature.

the strongest sorcerer of today, riled up by the mere mention of your name.

megumi supposes he doesn’t feel much remorse for those clan heads anyway. he was never the type to mourn over people he didn’t know dying. especially not people who he knew would live on to do evil. it doesn’t help that they were blatantly disrespecting you. perhaps he could sympathize with the monster inside of gojo.

oblivious to the turmoil that stirs inside of megumi, gojo starts to smile.

“i know what you’re going to say,” gojo hums happily. “gojo sensei, you’re so cool! i approve of you marrying my beloved [name]! kyaa~’” he makes a pathetic attempt to imitate megumi. 

the black haired boy grunts. he was going to say something along the lines of his approval for his benefactor, but all desires of flattering the white haired sorcerer disappeared.

gojo watches the black haired boy intently before tutting.

“not that it matters.” megumi is startled to hear how his voice dropped an octave. “i was always going to marry [name] and i’ll be damned to let anyone stop me.” 

2018 – present day

after satiating his students with tales from his pining days, your husband comes home often clingier than normal (is that even possible?). the moment satoru enters your home, his arms envelop you, caging you in his hold.

you can't help but giggle as his hair brushes against the side of your neck, his embrace pulling you in close, as if he's inhaling your presence.  his muscles flex when you attempt to slip away, keeping you in his tight embrace.

“sato– what is going on?!” 

“is it a crime to show my wife some love?” he kisses your neck. when his flurry of kisses stop, he resorts to absorbing all of your features with those cerulean eyes of his.

you don’t bother pushing him away again, choosing to thread your fingers through his soft hair. even after all these years, you will never not feel the effect of satoru’s eyes on you.

“i was telling my first years about you today,” he says softly.

you smile, “is that so?”

he pushes his nose into your neck again, nodding.

“you’re so good to them,” you whisper. despite the initial shock behind satoru choosing to pursue education, you’re extremely proud of how far he’s come.

“mhm,” satoru inhales. “i’d be good to our little ones too.” one of his hands sneak to your stomach.

you delicately guide his face away from your form, your fingers tenderly urging him to meet your gaze. "is there something you want to tell me?" you inquire softly, your eyes reflecting the warmth of your affection.

satoru's smirk deepens, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "perhaps," he murmurs, his touch light as he guides you towards the bedroom. without hesitation, you yield to his lead, eager at his sudden intimate gesture.

from outside your home, three first year students stand, waiting for their sensei’s cue to enter.

“do you think he’s forgotten about us?” yuji furrows his eyebrows, hands full of grocery bags that were going to be prepared for dinner.

extra notes. had the idea of gojo and megumi crashing your date in my drafts for so long. maybe ill elaborate on it if the ppl want to see :,)