#[universe of strays 1]

[askchuuyanakahara]

I wonder, how does the food taste? I can imagine Chuuya is a really good chef

Chuuya: "You seemed to like it then so I figured you'd still like it now.."

@fictional-men-especially-chuuya

Chuuya: "It's fine, I'm not all that hungry, I'll just eat my portion tomorrow."

Dazai: "Chuuya always bothers me about eating, it's only fair if I do the same."

Chuuya: "Doesn't mean I owe you anything though, considering I made the food."

Chuuya: "I am actually kind of hungry.."

Dazai & Chuuya: "Right?"

@bioluminescentcat

Dazai: "To keep a gift for this long.."

Chuuya: "That's all."

Chuuya: "Being in the light is a good look on you."

[warpstarrie]

[prev]

[next]

[first]

[moxie-girl]

can u imagine tumblr in the BSD universe. i think Haruno would run a popular straycatj/pangur and grim-esque blog about mii-chan and. could u imagine the drama of “popular beloved internet cat turns out to be some guy with an ability”

[scrapoddles]

rewatch szn

[rervraiilsaukl]

|| RANPO EDOGAWA ||

// Altered Page AU \\

Eventually, I'll post an APAU character sheet for him, along with a design analysis/explanation included with it.

More AU info for those interested:

Note : (I saw a couple people on here saying they were interested in my altered page au(and hsr x bsd au��im working on both at the same time), and i have a couple irls who actively get on my ass about working on it haha, so that was enough to give me the motivation to start working on it again and making more drawings for it... expect a lot of au related artwork ^^)

The Altered Page AU(APAU) is my own bsd AU where Fyodor was actually in the helicopter crash, survived, and rewrote The Page to revert, rewind, and change reality to find The Book. This causes several characters to belong to different affililiations(Sigma, Oda, Akutagawa, Shibusawa, Gin, etc), have different backstories(Akutagawa, Atsushi, Sigma, etc), in some cases have minor/major personality changes(Nikolai, Chuuya, etc), and to make different choices than they made from events in canon.

In the APAU, Ranpo is one of the few characters that is mentally the same as their canon counterpart. The other two that are the same as canon are Dazai and Fyodor.

All the other characters do not remember anything from the canon universe.

Out of the three characters that remember canon, Ranpo is the only one that was technically altered by the page rewrite. He is younger via the page writing, but still has the same mentality, knowledge, memories, and mind of his 26 year old self. He is just in a younger(by a couple/few years) body, like almost everyone else in the AU.

Ranpo is on good terms with Kunikida, Dazai, (eventually) Nikolai, and Yosano.

His relations with Sigma, Fukuzawa, and Atsushi are iffy/complicated. For the beginning of the AU, Sigma absolutely hates Ranpo(they may or may not end up dating, haha...) (I am a rarepair shipper. I dont ship mainy mainstream ships, so dont expect skk, fyolai, etc.)

He hates/is enemies with Fyodor and Shibusawa. Possibly Bram, too, in a way.

Ranpo is also one of the characters who suffers the most in this AU. Having several existential breakdowns, getting stabbed on several different occasions, and having to deal with Fyodor and the DOA/Rats actively trying to get rid of him.

[adhdream1409]

Stray Souls AU: Prologue

I decided to start with arc 2: "Of Men and Monsters" but wanted to add a prologue to sorta ease folks into the story. I will be creating and posting some character Bios (with Illustrations if my ADHD allows) of relevant characters so people aren't flying blind. This story is part of a VERY large overarching universe that involves A LOT of different fandoms. But my goal is to write it in such a way that you can still enjoy the story without knowing those fandoms. This particular story ("Stray Souls") is mostly focused on Poppy Playtime and Underverse (specifically, Nightmare and his gang). They're depictions are inspired by @calcium-cat's "One Small Dream" fic, and another character was inspired by her other fic, "A little Bitty of Hope". I also was very inspired by the fic "To Bring Him Home" by @titantimberwolf. You guys' fics are part of what inspired me to actually write this out. (I HIGHLY recommend both fics.) Also shout-out to my BFF (who I can't tag cuz they don't have a tumblr) for motivating me to write this! So without further ado...let it begin...

The factory stood, empty, devoid of life. It was quiet. They were all gone. The footsteps of a dark figure echoed through the abandoned corridors as he followed an equally dark creature down the lonely hallways in silence. He took in the dark bloodstained hallways, casting a cold glace over the corpses of prison guards. If his companion was to be believed, these men more than deserved their deaths.

Entering a wider area, he read the words written on the wall… “Safe Haven” and written next to it “but for how long?” They followed the tunnel, seeing more bloodstains as the smell of smoke and burned flesh hung in the air. As they neared their destination, they began to encounter the small broken bodies of smiling critters…faces frozen in immortal false smiles all while they lay cold and dead.

They entered what was once the safest place in the whole factory, now gone, reduced to ash and rubble. Nightmare followed the creature to the center of the room, where they paused to take in the devastation that was left. He felt his soul humming and pulsing with the lingering negativity…the last thing these beings had felt before death claimed them. 

The fear, the betrayal, the anger…He felt them all now…just like he had felt them himself so many centuries ago…He turned to his companion.

“Why have you brought me here? To show me this? What do you expect me to do? They are already dead.” He felt his tentacles thrash behind him, the residual rage lingering in the room merging with his own anger at the fate these beings suffered.

The cat met his cyan eye but said nothing. She stood and continued on, meowing at Nightmare, prompting him to follow her. Despite his annoyance, he trailed behind her, continuing to take in the destruction. They took winding paths and strange tunnels before arriving in a large round room. They entered a small doorway along the walls of the room to find a large creature lying dead beneath a large crusher.

His cold indifference wavered slightly at the sight of the creature’s agonized expression. Frozen forever in a moment of pain and sadness. The same anger, sadness, and guilt that saturated the haven filled this room as well. He breathed it in, tasting each unshed tear, each unvoiced regret, each pained betrayal.

And no one would ever know…This place, buried so far below the ground, and no one knew it was there. Any living thing down here…it didn’t have much time left. There wasn’t enough food, or water, or shelter. His cyan eye followed the cat as she gently rubbed her head along the side of the dead monster, and he felt the sadness and disappointment radiate from her.

“I understand that you are upset, but I still don’t know what you expect me to do about it. They are already dead. I cannot revive the dead.”

The cat sprinted out of the room, the dark skeleton following close behind. As they ran, the world seemed to shift. Rocks and drips rising up from the floor to rejoin the ceiling. Water flowed backwards. Everything seemed to be going in reverse as he followed the cat through the building. 

Finally, they stepped back into the main hub of the factory’s first floor. A tall blue statue standing still on its pedestal. Nightmare looked up through the glass ceiling, the moon and sun chased one another the wrong way across the sky. Coming to rest at the dawn of a new day, or perhaps...a day that had come once already.

“I see…I suppose I know the stakes now. And what if we fail? What then? Will you continue to reset this world over and over until someone snaps like Dust or Killer?”

The orange eyes met his. The slow, deliberate, shake of her head confirmed his suspicions: they had one chance to fix this. To give this world a better ending. One shot. They had better make it count.

“Alright then…I suppose we should get started. I take it you won’t be just handing us a solution on a silver platter?”

The cat grinned widely at him.

“Come now, Nightmare…Where’s the fun in that?” She started towards one of the dark corridors…stopping just before rounding a corner. Turning back to look at him one last time the cat gave him one final message, 

“You and your allies are the last hope for these lost souls…they are counting on you, do not allow them to be forgotten and abandoned as you once were…”

With that the black cat disappeared into the shadows, leaving Nightmare alone, time frozen for a bit longer as he collected his thoughts. He looked up at the blue figure. Confusion and loneliness emanated from it. He steeled his features. If they were the last hope for these stray souls…then by all the stars in the multiverse…he would make sure they would never be forgotten again.

A black portal swirled to life, and he stepped through, leaving the building to resume its timeline as a lonely child stood waiting for someone to rescue them.

[bnnywngs]

There are few things that annoy Dazai the most.

The first one is definitely losing to Edogawa senpai in the school exam ranking (he's aiming for first place this year, it's his last chance before Edogawa graduates, studying seriously for once in his life).

The second one is the most important, but also the trickiest. He absolutely hates that Chuuya is so popular. Every year since last year of middle school, when they met when Chuuya transferred to their school from France, Dazai is forced to watch boys and girls and anything in between fall in love with the red head. The amount of chocolate every Valentine's is frankly appalling. Or worst - the amount of times Chuuya has been called from class to receive a confession or an invitation to Christmas dates or to walk together during the cultural festival.

Dazai feels like murdering every single one of those ugly and annoying teenagers who dares to breathe the same air that Chuuya. Odasaku and Ango are always looking at him weirdly when he says those things aloud so he just stares and glares silently. And writes in his Chuuya diary (but that's a secret).

And here he is, second year of high school, having to go through another Valentine's Day yet again.

Everything is going as he predicted and that's annoying him a bit too much that it's starting to show. Dazai himself received some chocolates, both romantic and friendly, and gave none (although there is a little heart shaped box hidden in his bag and he refuses to think about it). Chuuya already has an overflowing bag of chocolates beside his feet by his desk, and there's probably more to come and Dazai is seriously considering murder.

But it's okay, everything's okay. Chuuya never once before accepted any of the confessions. It's fine.

(Dazai is definitely not biting into his metaphorical handkerchief, he's not)

(maybe on the way back home today, he can—)

"Chuuya-kun!"

Dazai turned his head so quickly, his neck made an odd clicking sound that hurt, but he ignored it because standing by the door with a grin and a square box of chocolate in one hand, was Edogawa Ranpo.

"Senpai." Chuuya greeted, voice composed although his expression was of confusion.

Edogawa walked inside their class as if it was normal and paused beside the red haired boy, putting his little chocolate box on his table without another word.

"There's a café I want to go to, I heard their pancakes are delicious. What do you think?" Edogawa asked, shocking everyone around.

Never once before the third year showed any interest in anyone.

Chuuya blushed. Chuuya blushed. Chuuya never blushes.

Oh no, oh no, no, no nonononono—

"Today...?" Chuuya asked, voice breaking at the end.

"If you're free." Edogawa's grin widened.

"I— Yes! I mean, yes. I can go."

Dazai will murder Edogawa, to hell with seniority.

"Chuuya—" Dazai started, only to be cut by another senior.

"Oy, Ranpo-san, class is starting." Yosano-senpai said, lowering her phone, clearly taking pictures of what happened.

"See you later, Chuuya-kun." the older boy waved sweetly and walked out of class.

There are few things that annoy Dazai the most, but only one thing he hates.

And that thing is called Edogawa Ranpo.

[ohhcinnybuns]

Here I am again,

You've been expecting me because I can't keep my mouth shut,

But if we don't know how their story ends, what then?

I have another prompt for you that's sure to really cut

‘  i am aching to hold you  &  keep you safe,  to be pressed against you so that nothing can harm you.  ’ 👀

In his arms, by the sea - Merman! Chuuya and Captain Dazai (OTPOY alternate ending)

Words: 2.8k

The shushing of the ocean waves entered his ears, muffled as if his head was below water. It could be. His mind had felt absent for months, his irises becoming mornings waiting at dawn for a sign—any sign at all. 

Time seemingly moved along without him. Days became weeks and months. Every morning, the same routine. He would walk, wait by the pier, gaze at the horizon, and return to the lighthouse he called home. He waited by the shore, hoping that a streaking comet would surface from below the sea, vermillion-drenched locks and teardrop irises ready to call his name and bring him back from his mind’s deceptive trenches. 

Boats drift by, bellowing their horn, while seagulls turn over vacant shells, searching for a morsel. Whispers of people passing by began to call him insane as if the story of his life that made him human was nonexistent and make-believe.

It was as if he had not been there to witness the tragic event that seemingly had him frozen there in time, wondering what he could have done differently to bring his loved ones home. 

---

All he had wanted to know was answers. All he had wanted to do was to understand why his father never came home. 

Why did Fyodor have to reappear when his father was doing just fine, away from the life of piracy to start anew? Why did the rat have to remove someone who meant so much to him, stepping all over the bond they’d come to build, know, and grow? 

Fyodor never even liked Oda to begin with. He always suspected that Fyodor disliked Oda for walking away from his crew - the mark of the Decay of Angels blemished on his arm, a grim reminder of the gruesome things he participated in. 

Dazai gritted his teeth with every sight of it because that was not the Oda that raised him. There was no piracy to him, only a man in love with the sea, freedom, and exploration. Oda had tried to move away from the decay that wanted to mold him, and in the end, his love for the sea always called him back, like a siren tempting her sailor to come forth and pull him under. They lured him, never to come back this time. 

“Where is he?” Dazai pressed him, holding a knife to the captain’s neck. 

“Have you tried looking at the bottom of the Yokohama port, Dazai-kun?" the captain returned his question with a cackle that turned Dazai’s boiling blood glacier-cold. He shivered, breathing rapidly through the gut-wrenching feeling coiling in his stomach. 

“I’m not playing.”

"If you really want to know, Dazai dear, he never left the port. He tried to run, but unfortunately, Nikolai was much faster than he thought,” Fyodor said with a widening smirk. “He got him right here," he continued his tale, the back of his hand knocking against Dazai's chest, “two shots is all it took for him to tumble off the boat. So very sad, Dazai-kun. I’m so very sorry for your loss." 

A ringing in his ear. A shaky breath. Dizzy, tunneling vision. He had hoped it was a lie, but what did Fyodor have to gain from it? Nothing at all. Nothing was ever enough for a cold, blooded monster like him. No amount of plundering and violence was ever enough. He had told the truth and there was nothing more to it. 

Fyodor took hold of his devastation to make his escape. He shoved Dazai away, swiftly kicking open a barrel of oil and throwing a nearby lamp to the ground before dashing away. 

Fyodor ignited his ship with his followers, plans, and treasure still on it. Their convenience didn’t matter - they were only pawns ready to sink with their captain and ship. 

Dazai managed to escape the stores and jumped out of the burning ship into a safety raft. He cut the rope, ready to return to his boat, when a streak of a reddened bioluminescent tail swam past him beneath the bow of the blazing ship. 

“Chuu…ya?” His heart quickened, and he gulped down a knot forming in his throat in worry. The sound of screaming pirates roaring to extinguish fires blared in his ears, the crackling of compromised wood searing the sky. 

Dazai kept his sights on the water, waiting for any sign of Chuuya to return, but that’s when he heard a creaking, the sound of wood snapping out of place. Dazai gasped, smoky fires penetrating his lungs as his eyes stung from falling ash and soaking sea salt. He knew then Chuuya's plan to stop Fyodor. He couldn't do anything. He felt useless. 

Whatever Chuuya had attempted must not have been enough, the ship continued rocking, and Dazai could feel adrenaline as he waited for Chuuya to return to the surface. But he did not. 

Instead, the sea began to bubble and sway viciously, waves growing and pushing Dazai’s safety raft away from the blazing ship. He had to hold on to the side of his raft to keep his balance; otherwise, he risked tipping into the water. He placed a hand over his mouth and nose to slow the inhale of smog and water from entering his system, and when he was pushed a fair distance away, his eyes were wide as he watched the mighty ship struggle against the sudden force pulsing from below the boat. 

The once abysmal ocean thundered brightly as if a light switch had been flicked on, like an active volcano ready to burst. The sea turned a spilled bloody wine surrounding the vessel before a red and black beam broke through the mainmast. The boat started crumpling like a tin can before the ship splintered down its middle and split into two. 

“CHUUYA!” he had cried, heart drumming so quickly it trembled his body. 

Screaming bodies landed in the ocean, crying for help. The few rafts left on the ship had caught fire, unusable. Dazai searched the chaos for any sign of Chuuya but instead found Fyodor, who tossed aside a crewmate floating on a piece of wreckage for himself. 

The crewmate attempted to scale on again but was kicked away by the captain’s boot, which used him as leverage to float the makeshift raft away. The crewmate submerged underwater, nowhere to be seen. Then he sat leisurely, with a knee raised, surveying his surroundings while removing his wet dressings with a smirk. It made Dazai's blood boil, but it didn't last long. 

The same glowing light that brought down the boat sped towards the wreckage Fyodor sat upon at top speed and pulsed water like a geyser to flip it over, tossing the captain into the ocean’s depths once more. Dazai knew it was Chuuya, and he could not look away, slightly relieved that the merman was still out there. 

Fyodor’s head appeared above water briefly before Chuuya sprung from behind, clinging to a bewildered Fyodor with an arm hooked around their neck and hissing at his prey. He bit into the crook of the rat’s neck, his catch thrashing about and screaming in pain, shouting curses that fell on deaf ears as his surviving crewmates watched in terror, holding tightly to their wreckage and removing themselves from the water as quickly as possible. All the fighting did nothing to Chuuya except clench his teeth tighter. 

Dazai could feel Chuuya's gaze on him; pitch-black irises and red swirling symbols slithered all over his body, making him almost unrecognizable. The hand that held Fyodor became a claw resembling molten magma covered in inky veins, and blood seemed to leak from his orifices, staining his chest, shoulders, and face. He didn’t appear all that responsive, working on autopilot and consciousness.

“So this is… Chuuya’s true from…” is all Dazai could mumble, awe in his shaky breath. He wanted nothing more than for Chuuya to come back to him so he could wrap his arms around him and whisper to him that everything was okay now. He doesn't have to do more. Dazai beckoned for the merman to come close. 

The redhead detached his jaw from the rat’s nape, features twitching as if wincing now and again. He was in a primal state, and his instincts to attack were rampant, but beneath that, there were flickers of exhaustion, and Dazai could see the merman panting as if at his limit.

The merman's claw dug into the side of Fyodor’s throat and slashed it open. Blood rushed, screaming subsiding into gurgles, choking on salted water and iron. The captain's crewmates could only watch in horror as their leader pawed at his neck, trying to remove Chuuya’s hold on him. In the end, it was futile.

Drifting a little away from the wreckage had been Sigma and Nikolai, panting and soaking wet inside of a burnt boat, having seemingly gotten away just in time before the ship fractured. They could hear their captain screaming into the night sky, and all Sigma could do was turn his back to the scene and cover his ears. Nikolai, on the other hand, watched on with a balled fist and furrowed brows, turmoil flickering between Sigma and his captain. Ultimately, he chose to stay seated, watching his captain be mauled with a conflicted gaze. It's every man for themselves in open waters - any fight and loyalty they might have had in them sunk with their ship. 

Fyodor continued thrashing wildly until Chuuya couldn't handle his fuss anymore. The fins that shaped the redhead’s ears fanned back, and before Dazai could call to him, Chuuya dove below the surface with his prey in hand, their tail fanning swiftly to gain as much distance between himself and the surface before the flicker of his tail died out, losing sight of him. Dazai’s stomach drops, eyes round, hands gripping wood tightly as he leans against the bow of his raft for any sight of the merman, but he never resurfaces. 

He doesn't know how long he stood on that life raft out at sea waiting for Chuuya, hoping they would return. There was no sight of his bioluminescence. Dazai didn't know if Chuuya was alive or dead. 

Nothing could have prepared him to grieve as deeply as he did when he stepped back into his ship, rescued by his friends, who placed a blanket over him and directed him to his quarters. 

A piece of his heart sunk to the bottom of the ocean that night, an endless stream of tears over the reality of Oda's death and Chuuya's disappearance washing over him all at once. Everything around him moved in slow motion, rocking with his ship, paused forever in this moment, trapped in a loop that didn't want to let him go and hadn't let him go. 

How does anyone learn to move forward after the death of their loved ones? It is said that time heals all wounds, but what if some wounds don’t close? That has been a question that has plagued his mind since that night. Dazai never honestly thought about it, always having thought that his life should have ended at thirteen when he initially tried to drown himself. Yet, Oda and Chuuya became his saving grace when he thought he would never have anyone on his side, and now he was left to live without them. 

---

The walk back to the lighthouse this evening is a little chillier. Winter starts are always like that, much more polar next to the sea, but Dazai wouldn’t change it. He keeps his gaze lowered, mindful enough not to walk into others, hands in his tan coat pockets, breathing into the bundled navy scarf around his neck. The clicks of his shoes are the only evidence that he is moving forward and not floating to his destination. 

Crisp sea salt permeated his senses, hair fluffed and ruffled by the breeze. He walks the crisscrossing piers, the crescent shape of the harbor leading to a rocky shoreline, where a path veers off at its end, steps leading up to his lighthouse. This is where it all started. It’s only right that this is where he should end—the beginning of them and the entanglement of their Fates after the catalyst of his drowning. 

He had thought that maybe Oda would have loved Dazai buying the lighthouse - a home they could share instead of the shanty shack they used to live in because Oda was humble like that. The lighthouse kept them close to the coast, nights full of lulling tides and wondrous expanses of diamonds in the sky; perhaps it would have saved Oda from his end to have what he loved the most so close to him. Dazai wanted to give him that. 

He also thought Chuuya would have visited him more often. He thought they could meet again at the rocky ledges and dive together to explore the world below, fingers entwined and bodies close. He once joked to Chuuya that in another life, they would be fated sea horses drifting with the rolling tide in a swirling dance. The memory alone makes him smile, remembering the bright red hues that made the merman’s cheeks flush and splash water at him. 

Dazai bundles the scarf around his neck more tightly, the snugness comforting him as he ascends the steps. There is always tomorrow, he supposes as if that’s not what he’s been telling himself for months. There is always a tomorrow. 

As he reaches the door of his home, he unlocks it and enters, ready to close the door. A sound of quick steps enters his ears, and a hand holds his door open before he can fully close it shut. 

“Wait!” the person pants. They continue inhaling and exhaling as if they had been running for miles, finally trying to catch their breath.  

Dazai blinks, instinctively opening his door with a, “Yes? What can I do for you?” 

It wasn't often that he had visitors storming at his door. The last person to visit him had been Atsushi to check on his well-being. However, the sight he came upon made him speechless. 

“You walk…so fast…those lanky legs of yours… goddamn it… How am I supposed to keep up? Wait, I need a minute…” 

Before him was the soul of the ocean incarnate—flaming locks dry, curled, and swept to the side, trying to catch their breath. The stunning blue of his eyes glared at him playfully, a smirk plastered on his lips as his breathing regulated. He wore modern clothing and was rather handsome: a black leather jacket, onyx gloves, and a plain black T-shirt. At his neck rested a choker that replaced the seashell garland he used to wear. But even more surprising was the lack of a fishtail, replaced by legs hidden beneath navy jeans. 

“Chuuya?” Dazai croaked through the lump in his throat. All that time, waiting for time to shift along again. 

The redhead stands tall, a hand on his hip as he beams, asking, “Did you miss me?”

Dazai leaps forward, embracing Chuuya in his arms tightly, body trembling as if scared that the body he held was a figment of the imagination. He feels Chuuya chuckle into his chest, snaking his arms around his waist before whispering a small, “I’m home.” 

Dazai’s grip tightens for a minute before letting the redhead go, pulling back to look at Chuuya again, who gazes at him sheepishly, pink shading across his face. 

His eyes sting, caressing the softness of Chuuya’s cheek tenderly, still processing that Chuuya was standing before him. His hands continued to travel down to his neck, where he could feel their quickened blood flowing, and finally down to his chest, where a thumping heart beats. 

He looks in awe as Chuuya smirks up at him again. A smile surfaces, bubbling happiness overwhelming him as he leans in to capture his lover's lips in a kiss, tears finally falling free. Chuuya came back. 

Chuuya smiles, standing on his tiptoes, wrapping his arm around Dazai’s neck to keep them close. Dazai pulls away enough for their lips to brush together, a gentle “Welcome home” spilling from his lips, as Chuuya thumbs away the droplets from his eyes. 

The redhead grins, raking his hands through the brunette's knotting locks, speaking softly, “Sorry I kept you waiting so long.” 

Dazai hums with a smile and a nod, fondly gazing at his lover before kissing their forehead and taking hold of their hand. 

“You do have some explaining to do,” Dazai says with a small laugh. 

Chuuya laughs along, holding their hands up to place a kiss on Dazai’s wrist as an apology—one of Dazai’s favorite things that Chuuya did. Intimate and gentle. 

“Yeah, I know,” is all the redhead says calmly. 

Dazai nods, stepping away, leading Chuuya by their clasped hands into their home. Finally, time could move forward for him again - no longer stuck with ‘what ifs’  and wondering what he could have done differently for another outcome. No longer would Dazai be in his loneliness, gazing out at the ocean from his lighthouse or at the piers, waiting for a sign of life. Finally, he could live the rest of his days happily with his lover in his arms by the sea. 

[cheriladycl01]

Hey guys!!! MY REQUESTS ARE BACK OPEN!

Feel free to request for any of the following fandoms.

F1

KPOP

Marvel

The Hunger Games

Anime (Depends on the Anime)

Books (Depends on the Book)

Etc

(Even request for other fandoms! If I don’t know it I’ll delete the request or I’ll have a look into it!)

[twin-stars-continuum]

Character Bios

As more characters are introduced and become relevant, they will likely receive short Bios. The two main OCs who are relevant to "Stray Souls" both have longer ones. No portraits just yet guys, but I have some assorted sketches of them on my main blog.

[warpstarrie]

[prev]

[next]

[first]

[skeletalheartattack]

What are your OCs favourite toys? I love toys.

it took me a bit to think about, but i think my characters favourite toys would be like:

Boe: a wooden do-nothing machine

Budd: a stray old tin can

Ruce: just a tech deck

[chouchou-ya]

Our last sunrises 🌄

✨Fandom : Bungo Stray Dogs

✨skk

✨part 1 of the series ‘hunted hearts and hounds’

✨Rated M for the fights (typical-canon v!0lence for a hunger games au)

📚tags: hunger games setting, angst, action and romance, slow burn, strangers to lovers, no bad ending, idiots in love, hunger games canon-typical violence, alliance

Summary:

‘Chuuya never imagined his last sunrises would have been by a stranger’s side. Yet, it was one of the most peaceful he had ever watched. It was the calm before the storm, soon crushed by the noises of reality.’

Chuuya and Dazai both got reaped the same year, having no choice but to face the Hunger Games head on.

[fandom]

Ships

Love is in the air (in hell).

Billford Bill Cipher & Stanford Pines, Gravity Falls

Farcille Falin Touden & Marcille Donato, Dungeon Meshi

Poolverine Wade Wilson & Logan Howlett, the Marvel universe

Ineffable Husbands -3 Aziraphale & Crowley, Good Omens

Destiel -2 Dean Winchester & Castiel, Supernatural

Radioapple Lucifer Morningstar & Alastor, Hazbin Hotel

Buddie +3 Evan Buckley & Edmundo Diaz, 9-1-1

Phan Daniel Howell & Phil Lester, YouTubers

Polin Penelope Featherington & Colin Bridgerton, Bridgerton

Satosugu +16 Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru, Jujutsu Kaisen

Percabeth +76 Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase, the Percy Jackson universe

Bucktommy Evan Buckley & Tommy Kinard, 9-1-1

Hannigram -4 Hannibal Lecter & Will Graham, Hannibal

Labru Laios Touden & Kabru, Dungeon Meshi

Zosan +18 Roronoa Zoro & Vinsmoke Sanji, One Piece

Narilamb Narinder & the Lamb, Cult of the Lamb

Huskerdust Husk & Angel Dust, Hazbin Hotel

Steddie -16 Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson, Stranger Things

Sonadow +27 Sonic & Shadow, Sonic the Hedgehog

Ghostsoap -6 Simon “Ghost” Riley & John “Soap” MacTavish, the Call of Duty franchise

Jegulus -3 James Potter & Regulus Black, the Harry Potter universe

Fiddauthor Fiddleford McGucket & Stanford Pines, Gravity Falls

Byler -19 Will Byers & Mike Wheeler, Stranger Things

Wolfstar -8 Remus Lupin & Sirius Black, the Harry Potter universe

Soukoku -3 Nakahara Chuuya & Dazai Osamu, Bungou Stray Dogs

Bakudeku -6 Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Boku no Hero Academia

Loustat +5 Louis de Pointe du Lac & Lestat de Lioncourt, Interview with the Vampire

Hualian +30 Hua Cheng & Xie Lian, Tian Guan Ci Fu

Chaggie Charlie Morningstar & Vaggie, Hazbin Hotel

Lestappen +37 Charles Leclerc & Max Verstappen, Formula 1 drivers

Hilson James Wilson & Gregory House, House

Narumitsu +13 Phoenix Wright & Miles Edgeworth, Ace Attorney

Spirk +15 Spock & James T. Kirk, Star Trek

Stolitz Stolas & Blitzo, Helluva Boss

Lokius +43 Loki Laufeyson & Mobius M. Mobius, Loki

Merthur -19 Merlin & Arthur Pendragon, Merlin

Payneland Edwin Payne & Charles Rowland, Dead Boy Detectives

Chilshi Chilchuck Tims & Senshi, Dungeon Meshi

Rhaenicent +61 Rhaenyra Targaryen & Alicent Hightower, House of the Dragon

Astarion x Tav +48 Astarion & Tav, Baldur's Gate 3

Armandaniel Armand & Daniel Molloy, Interview with the Vampire

Griddlehark -2 Gideon Nav & Harrowhark Nonagesimus, The Locked Tomb series

Superbat +12 Superman & Batman, the DC universe

Zolu Roronoa Zoro & Monkey D. Luffy, One Piece

Zelink -33 Zelda & Link, The Legend of Zelda

Jonmartin +5 Jonathan Sims & Martin Blackwood, The Magnus Archives

Vashwood -36 Vash the Stampede & Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Trigun

Zukka +20 Zuko & Sokka, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Staticradio Alastor & Vox, Hazbin Hotel

Ratiorine Dr. Ratio & Aventurine, Honkai: Star Rail

Blackbonnet -36 Edward "Blackbeard" Teach & Stede Bonnet, Our Flag Means Death

Hanamusa -9 Jessie & Delia Ketchum, the Pokémon franchise

Wangxian -28 Lan Wangji & Wei Wuxian, Mo Dao Zu Shi

Pearlina Pearl Houzuki & Marina Ida, Splatoon

Firstprince -32 Alex Claremont-Diaz & Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Red, White & Royal Blue

Shuake Kurusu Akira & Goro Akechi, Persona 5

Drarry +6 Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, the Harry Potter universe

Landoscar Lando Norris & Oscar Piastri, Formula 1 drivers

Bingqiu Luo Binghe & Shen Qingqiu, The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System

Shadowpeach +2 Sun Wukong & the Six-Eared Macaque, Lego Monkie Kid

Zutara Zuko & Katara, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Itafushi Itadori Yuji & Fushiguro Megumi, Jujustu Kaisen

Loumand Louis de Pointe du Lac & Armand, Interview with the Vampire

Timkon +25 Tim Drake & Conner Kent, Young Justice

Klance +18 Keith & Lance, Voltron: Legendary Defender

Nuzi N & Uzi Doorman, Murder Drones

Durgetash The Dark Urge & Enver Gortash, Baldur's Gate 3

Cherik Charles Xavier & Erik Lehnsherr, the Marvel universe

Kathony Kate Sharma & Anthony Bridgerton, Bridgerton

Staticmoth Vox & Valentino, Hazbin Hotel

Shin Soukoku Akutagawa Ryunnosuke & Nakajima Atsushi, Bungou Stray Dogs

Huntlow -65 Hunter & Willow Park, The Owl House

Haikaveh Kaveh & Alhaitham, Genshin Impact

Chainshipping Lawrence Gordon & Adam Stanheight, Saw

ButtonBlossom Ragatha & Pomni, The Amazing Digital Circus

Agathario Agatha Harkness & Rio Vidal, the Marvel universe

Broppy Branch & Poppy, the Trolls franchise

Lumity -65 Luz Noceda & Amity Blight, The Owl House

Radiorose Alastor & Rosie, Hazbin Hotel

Imodna -53 Imogen Temult & Laudna, Critical Role

Rosekiller Barty Crouch Jr. & Evan Rosier, the Harry Potter universe

Everlark Katniss Everdeen & Peeta Mellark, The Hunger Games

Wenclair -78 Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair, Wednesday

Kataang Katara & Aang, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Caitvi -5 Caitlyn Kiramman & Vi, Arcane

Adrienette -50 Adrien Agreste & Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir

Davekat +3 Dave Strider & Karkat Vantas, Homestuck

Adamsapple Adam & Lucifer Morningstar, Hazbin Hotel

Twiyor -58 Loid Forger & Yor Forger, SPY x FAMILY

Shuggy Shanks & Buggy, One Piece

Scollace Scott Pilgrim & Wallace Wells, the Scott Pilgrim franchise

Madohomu Kaname Madoka & Homura Akemi, Puella Magi Madoka Magica

Solangelo -23 Will Solace & Nico di Angelo, the Percy Jackson universe

Kimharry Kim Kitsuragi & Harry Du Bois, Disco Elysium

Klapollo -2 Apollo Justice & Klavier Gavin, Ace Attorney

Maxley Max Goof & Bradley Uppercrust III, An Extremely Goofy Movie

Megop Megatron & Optimus Prime, Transformers

Wilmon -34 Prince Wilhelm & Simon Eriksson, Young Royals

Johnshi Johnny Cage & Kenshi Takahashi, Mortal Kombat

Korrasami -5 Korra & Asami Sato, The Legend of Korra

The number in italics indicates how many spots a ship moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded ships weren’t on the list last year.

Love love? Create a Community for your OTP today, and enjoy yelling about it with others in the comfort of your own dedicated online yelling space.

[nasa]

Seeing the Invisible Universe

This computer-simulated image shows a supermassive black hole at the core of a galaxy. The black region in the center represents the black hole’s event horizon, beyond which no light can escape the massive object’s gravitational grip. The black hole’s powerful gravity distorts space around it like a funhouse mirror. Light from background stars is stretched and smeared as it skims by the black hole. You might wonder — if this Tumblr post is about invisible things, what’s with all the pictures? Even though we can’t see these things with our eyes or even our telescopes, we can still learn about them by studying how they affect their surroundings. Then, we can use what we know to make visualizations that represent our understanding.

When you think of the invisible, you might first picture something fantastical like a magic Ring or Wonder Woman’s airplane, but invisible things surround us every day. Read on to learn about seven of our favorite invisible things in the universe!

1. Black Holes

This animation illustrates what happens when an unlucky star strays too close to a monster black hole. Gravitational forces create intense tides that break the star apart into a stream of gas. The trailing part of the stream escapes the system, while the leading part swings back around, surrounding the black hole with a disk of debris. A powerful jet can also form. This cataclysmic phenomenon is called a tidal disruption event.

You know ‘em, and we love ‘em. Black holes are balls of matter packed so tight that their gravity allows nothing — not even light — to escape. Most black holes form when heavy stars collapse under their own weight, crushing their mass to a theoretical singular point of infinite density.

Although they don’t reflect or emit light, we know black holes exist because they influence the environment around them — like tugging on star orbits. Black holes distort space-time, warping the path light travels through, so scientists can also identify black holes by noticing tiny changes in star brightness or position.

2. Dark Matter

A simulation of dark matter forming large-scale structure due to gravity.

What do you call something that doesn’t interact with light, has a gravitational pull, and outnumbers all the visible stuff in the universe by five times? Scientists went with “dark matter,” and they think it's the backbone of our universe’s large-scale structure. We don’t know what dark matter is — we just know it's nothing we already understand.

We know about dark matter because of its gravitational effects on galaxies and galaxy clusters — observations of how they move tell us there must be something there that we can’t see. Like black holes, we can also see light bend as dark matter’s mass warps space-time.

3. Dark Energy

Animation showing a graph of the universe’s expansion over time. While cosmic expansion slowed following the end of inflation, it began picking up the pace around 5 billion years ago. Scientists still aren’t sure why.

No one knows what dark energy is either — just that it’s pushing our universe to expand faster and faster. Some potential theories include an ever-present energy, a defect in the universe’s fabric, or a flaw in our understanding of gravity.

Scientists previously thought that all the universe’s mass would gravitationally attract, slowing its expansion over time. But when they noticed distant galaxies moving away from us faster than expected, researchers knew something was beating gravity on cosmic scales. After further investigation, scientists found traces of dark energy’s influence everywhere — from large-scale structure to the background radiation that permeates the universe.

4. Gravitational Waves

Two black holes orbit each other and generate space-time ripples called gravitational waves in this animation.

Like the ripples in a pond, the most extreme events in the universe — such as black hole mergers — send waves through the fabric of space-time. All moving masses can create gravitational waves, but they are usually so small and weak that we can only detect those caused by massive collisions.  Even then they only cause infinitesimal changes in space-time by the time they reach us. Scientists use lasers, like the ground-based LIGO (Laser Interferometer Gravitational-Wave Observatory) to detect this precise change. They also watch pulsar timing, like cosmic clocks, to catch tiny timing differences caused by gravitational waves.

This animation shows gamma rays (magenta), the most energetic form of light, and elusive particles called neutrinos (gray) formed in the jet of an active galaxy far, far away. The emission traveled for about 4 billion years before reaching Earth. On Sept. 22, 2017, the IceCube Neutrino Observatory at the South Pole detected the arrival of a single high-energy neutrino. NASA’s Fermi Gamma-ray Space Telescope showed that the source was a black-hole-powered galaxy named TXS 0506+056, which at the time of the detection was producing the strongest gamma-ray activity Fermi had seen from it in a decade of observations.

5. Neutrinos

This animation shows gamma rays (magenta), the most energetic form of light, and elusive particles called neutrinos (gray) formed in the jet of an active galaxy far, far away. The emission traveled for about 4 billion years before reaching Earth. On Sept. 22, 2017, the IceCube Neutrino Observatory at the South Pole detected the arrival of a single high-energy neutrino. NASA’s Fermi Gamma-ray Space Telescope showed that the source was a black-hole-powered galaxy named TXS 0506+056, which at the time of the detection was producing the strongest gamma-ray activity Fermi had seen from it in a decade of observations.

Because only gravity and the weak force affect neutrinos, they don’t easily interact with other matter — hundreds of trillions of these tiny, uncharged particles pass through you every second! Neutrinos come from unstable atom decay all around us, from nuclear reactions in the Sun to exploding stars, black holes, and even bananas.

Scientists theoretically predicted neutrinos, but we know they actually exist because, like black holes, they sometimes influence their surroundings. The National Science Foundation’s IceCube Neutrino Observatory detects when neutrinos interact with other subatomic particles in ice via the weak force.

6. Cosmic Rays

This animation illustrates cosmic ray particles striking Earth's atmosphere and creating showers of particles.

Every day, trillions of cosmic rays pelt Earth’s atmosphere, careening in at nearly light-speed — mostly from outside our solar system. Magnetic fields knock these tiny charged particles around space until we can hardly tell where they came from, but we think high energy events like supernovae can accelerate them. Earth’s atmosphere and magnetic field protect us from cosmic rays, meaning few actually make it to the ground.

Though we don’t see the cosmic rays that make it to the ground, they tamper with equipment, showing up as radiation or as “bright” dots that come and go between pictures on some digital cameras. Cosmic rays can harm astronauts in space, so there are plenty of precautions to protect and monitor them.

7. (Most) Electromagnetic Radiation

The electromagnetic spectrum is the name we use when we talk about different types of light as a group. The parts of the electromagnetic spectrum, arranged from highest to lowest energy are: gamma rays, X-rays, ultraviolet light, visible light, infrared light, microwaves, and radio waves. All the parts of the electromagnetic spectrum are the same thing — radiation. Radiation is made up of a stream of photons — particles without mass that move in a wave pattern all at the same speed, the speed of light. Each photon contains a certain amount of energy.

The light that we see is a small slice of the electromagnetic spectrum, which spans many wavelengths. We frequently use different wavelengths of light — from radios to airport security scanners and telescopes.

Visible light makes it possible for many of us to perceive the universe every day, but this range of light is just 0.0035 percent of the entire spectrum. With this in mind, it seems that we live in a universe that’s more invisible than not! NASA missions like NASA's Fermi, James Webb, and Nancy Grace Roman  space telescopes will continue to uncloak the cosmos and answer some of science’s most mysterious questions.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[nanamiskentos]

MAMA, A DIVA BEHIND YOU! — toji fushiguro sfw!

prologue. → toji loves his son, he really does. unfortunately, young megumi is less than receptive when it comes to toji's efforts to impress the pretty neighbour who just moved into the apartment down the hall.

or five times megumi actively made toji's love life worse. and the one time he actually helped.

pairing. toji fushiguro x afab!reader

warnings. megumi is his own warning. mild age gap implied. non sorcerer au, toji is raising megumi on his own. reader has she/her pronouns. nothing else, just shenanigans :) toji gets knocked down a few pegs by his son 😭 mildly ooc toji <3

word count. song inspiration. paper rings — taylor swift

a/n. this is sooo silly and for fun lol 😭 i feel like you can tell this just isn't my genre or writing style 😭

mp3. i like shiny things, but i'd marry you with paper rings <3

TOJI FUSHIGURO didn't have a lot of treasures in life. he just wasn't that type of guy. treasures were for people with their lives together — the kind who budgeted for organic vegetables and owned matching socks. toji's list of prized possessions was short: a semi-reliable pay check, a fridge that kept his beer cold on a good day, and the one channel that aired late-night baseball games.

oh, and his kid. megumi fushiguro.

the little brat was the one thing in toji's life he could call a blessing without choking on the word. but lately? toji was seriously considering the logistics of international shipping. could you send a five year old punk to siberia? where was the paperwork for that?

everything had been fine. hell, downright manageable. until you moved in down the hall.

at first, toji didn't give a fuck. neighbours were usually either noisy or nosy, and sometimes the tragic combination of both. the last guy had banged on his door at least once a week, yelling about toji's late-night weightlifting sessions and muttering something about 'quiet hours.'

toji had pegged you for the same. maybe with a yoga met and too many scented candles.

but then, you showed up on his doorstep with a kind smile that could probably light up half the districts in the city. and a polite, sweet, "excuse me, but could you help me with my bed frame?"

and that was it.

the universe must've been real bored, because that was the moment it decided that toji fushiguro — self proclaimed expert on not giving a damn, was going to lose his damn mind like cupid has struck him with the painful arrows of a crush. and he was a goner.

take #1 — my neck, my back

spring in tokyo had come into full bloom, the kind of day where the air smelled faintly of sunshine, and the cherry blossoms drifted around like lazy, little freeloaders. below the apartment complex, the park wasn't much to write home about — a scrappy patch of grass, a couple of benches that looked like they'd seen some shit, and a swing set that squeaked like it had a vendetta against joy.

but for toji? it was good enough.

he'd figured this 'let me show you around because i'm so friendly' outing would be low effort. easy. casual and neighbourly, even. except now, he was leaning against a tree which was far harder than it sounded when his lower back was screaming at him louder than megumi had this morning about brushing his teeth.

but you stood nearby, smiling that damn warm and disarming smile of yours, gently plucking a stray blossom from megumi's messy hair. the kid, for his part, was pointedly ignoring you both, kicking rocks with the type of dedication usually reserved for a brat trying to avoid his homework.

toji cleared his throat, "so, uh, the area's not bad. quiet most of the time. that convenience store over there's open late. great for snacks. or milk. y'know, the owner's a bit of a bitc —"

"why are you standing like that?"

megumi's voice cut through his rehearsed tour like a rusty knife.

toji shot him a sharp glance. a look that screamed: keep your mouth shut, kid.

megumi just tilted his head, all faux innocence, and then delivered the killing blow with those sea-green eyes gleaming in what toji was certain was pure maliciousness, "dad, your back hurts again, doesn’t it?"

toji froze, scrambling for damage control, but you were already pressing your lips together, trying not to laugh. trying. but he could see the corners of your mouth twitching.

"back's fine," toji huffed, straightening up too fast. something in his spine must have popped loud enough to startle a crow off a branch, "solid a rock, hah! good as new."

megumi glanced at his scuffed sneakers, and then back up, "you said it was hard getting off the couch this morning. didn't you say you're old now and falling apart?"

toji's entire soul left his body. the punk was a traitor to a family name. he should have just sent megumi back to the clan long ago.

"don't you have a rock to kick?" he hissed.

"already did all that."

and that was it. your laugh finally burst out, bright and loud, ringing through the little patch of a park. toji found himself staring at you like some idiot in a rom-com who’d just realised he was completely doomed.

"kids, huh?" he muttered, throwing megumi a glare that promised revenge.

"kids," you agreed, eyes still sparkling as you excused yourself, something about leaving a pot on the stove. you gave toji one last look as you turned to go, warm and soft with that lingering amusement.

toji leaned back against the tree once you were gone, letting out a long sigh. megumi was still standing there, kicking the same patch of dirt, as though he were trying to discover unseen archaeological wonders underneath the earth.

"you're lucky i don’t sell you to a circus," toji grumbled under his breath.

megumi didn’t even look up, "you wouldn’t get that much for me."

smart-ass kid.

take #2 — the liar's pants are blazing on fire

walking someone home shouldn't have felt like scaling mount fuji, but toji fushiguro was now sweating bullet. the evening was crisp, the air cool enough to keep him from outright drowning in these stupid nerves, but it helped little.

the streetlights flickered on one by one, casting a faint yellow glow over the neighbourhood. nothing fancy — just rows of small apartments with laundry dangling off balconies and the occasional stray cat darting under parked car. it wasn't exactly romantic, but in the soft glow of the spring, it didn't look that bad.

you walked besides him, laughing at some half-assed joke he'd cracked earlier. and damn, toji liked that sound. more than he should've. more than he'd admit to anyone, including himself. now though, the silence had crept back in, and he was left psyching himself up for the move.

just hold her hand, his brain hissed, it's not rocket science. come on, man. no! wait, give her a compliment, call her hot. ugh, idiot. don't say that yet -

his thick fingers flexed awkwardly at this side as he tried to look natural. a valiant losing battle when every nerve in his body screamed, you have one job, fushiguro. don't ruin this.

"dad!"

toji's head snapped up like a startled animal, and there he was. megumi. his kid. his little shadow. gasping, clutching his throat, and staggering toward them like a samurai dying in glorious battle.

"dad! i — i can't breathe!" megumi wheezed, voice raspy as he doubled over in dramatic agony.

toji blinked. what the —

"i think i'm dying!" megumi croaked, collapsing onto the sidewalk with all the subtlety of a boulder tumbling down a hill.

toji sighed, already pinching the bridge of his nose. should’ve known. thid kid had been hanging around that white-haired freak downstairs too much. what had that gojo satoru been teaching him? shakespearean death monologues?

"what is it this time?" toji asked flatly, his voice like gravel.

"maybe, maybe it's the peanuts!" megumi sputtered, clutching his chest now, because why not? "the ones i ate at home! i think i'm allergic!"

toji stared at him, unimpressed. this was the same kid who could inhale salted peanuts by the handful, barely pausing for air, like he was training for some bizarre snack-eating championship.

"you're not allergic," toji deadpanned.

"i think i am!" megumi wheezed, dropping to his knees, his little hands shaking dramatically.

"oh my god!" you gasped, wide-eyed. "should we — i mean, do we need to take him to the hospital? i can drive —"

toji waved a rough hand, trying to salvage what little dignity he had left, "nah, kid’s fine. just go on home. i'll handle this."

"but —"

"it's fine," toji insisted, forcing what he hoped was a reassuring smile, even as megumi collapsed onto the pavement like he’d been struck by lightning.

you had hesitated, clearly torn, but eventually nodded, "okay… but call me if you need anything, okay?"

toji nodded, biting back the heat threatening to crawl up his neck. "yeah, yeah. go on."

the second you turned the corner, toji crouched next to his "dying" son, who immediately cracked one eye open and coughed weakly for good measure.

"what the hell was that?" toji grunted, "what did i say about huffing gasoline in the laundry?"

"don't do it."

toji flicked the punk's forehead, "mhm, so?"

megumi shrugged, sitting up and dusting off his pants. "thought i was allergic."

"to peanuts? that shit you eat everyday?"

"better safe than sorry, dad."

toji huffed, ruffling a hand through his choppy black hair. he glanced in the direction you’d gone, muttering under his breath, "you're lucky you’re cute, kid."

the next morning, toji opened his door to find a basket sitting on the mat. a pristine, gingham-lined basket packed with golden, buttery pastries and muffins that smelled like heaven. attached was a note:

for megumi! i hope he’s feeling better!

karmic justice demanded that toji sit down, scarf it entirely, and leave nothing but crumbs for the little brat. he'd earned that much.

take #3 — they didn't get my nose right!

toji fushiguro didn’t get flustered easily. fights? He could eat a punch for breakfast. bills? well, avoidance was a valid financial strategy. but you, sitting on his couch, smiling at him like you’d never met a red flag you didn’t want to rehabilitate, while unpacking groceries for him and megumi? that was uncharted territory.

terrifying.

the apartment was...presentable. which was more than he could say ten minutes before you arrived, when he'd barked at megumi like a drill sergeant to hide every suspicious stain and questionable stack of dishes. now, the faint sting of cleaning spray lingered in the air, and the tiny place almost looked cozy. not that toji would admit it.

"you didn’t have to bring anything," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"oh, it's no trouble!" you chirped, beaming like some kind of saint. "i thought you and megumi might like some fresh vegetables. and i couldn’t resist grabbing some sweets for him."

from the corner of the room, megumi's ears perked up at sweets. he dropped the crayon he’d been chewing (toji pretended not to see it) and padded over, all innocent wide eyes and suspiciously good behaviour.

"dad," megumi started, his tone way too angelic for a kid who regularly schemed like a demonic manga villain, “can i show her my drawing?"

toji utterly froze.

megumi never asked to show off his drawings. usually, he just thrust them into unsuspecting hands like a nosy salesman who couldn't take no for an answer. this? this was premeditated.

"uh," toji grunted, squinting at the kid. "maybe later. she’s busy."

but you, bless your overly trusting heart, smiled and said, "oh, i'd love to see it! i'm sure it's adorable."

toji didn’t even have time to stop him. megumi whipped out a crumpled paper from his pocket like he was smuggling state secrets and handed it to you with an air of triumph.

you unfolded it carefully, and toji wanted to crawl into the walls.

there it was: a chaotic, technicolor mess of lines and smudges.

and centre stage?

a terrifyingly accurate caricature of him labeled "dad," locked in what could only be described as a life-or-death struggle with a rabid raccoon twice his size. above his head, a speech bubble screamed, "no!" while the raccoon yelled back, "mine!"

toji groaned so loud it could’ve registered on the richter scale, "kid. seriously?"

your laughter was instant and loud, the kind that made you clutch your sides and tear up. "this — oh my god, this is amazing!" you wheezed, doubling over.

"it’s not even accurate," toji muttered, crossing his arms, his biceps straining against his shirt like they were trying to leave this embarrassing moment behind. "i won."

"dad didn’t win," megumi piped up, as smug as a kid who’d just blown up his old man’s spot in front of a pretty lady, "the raccoon stole the chips."

"megumi," toji growled, pinning him with a glare that would’ve made lesser beings tremble. the kid just shrugged, popping another crayon into his mouth like this was all part of his five-year master plan.

later, after you’d left, still giggling and promising to "treasure" the drawing, toji leaned over the kitchen table where megumi was innocently snacking on his candy.

'kid," toji said, his voice low and dangerous, "if you ever pull something like that again, i’ll eat your crayons. one by one. and i'll make you watch."

megumi didn’t even flinch, cool as a cucumber, "good luck. i hid all the good ones."

take #4 — take your broke ass home!

the neighborhood festival was the kind of event that came together with duct tape and misplaced enthusiasm. a few janky game booths, a cotton candy machine that looked like it ran on prayers, and a ferris wheel that creaked like it was auditioning for a horror movie. but toji didn’t mind. he had a plan.

this was going to be his moment.

he invited you under the pretense of "fun time" for megumi, but really, it was to show you what a catch he was. buff, capable, ruggedly charming — he was ready to prove it all. what better way than with a little festival bravado? he’d win you a giant stuffed panda or one of those oversized bears that could double as a couch. easy.

you and megumi stood by a booth plastered with painted bullseyes, rows of rubber balls stacked neatly on the counter. toji rolled up his sleeves, flexing his arms just enough to catch your attention. he reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of crumpled cash like he was buying the entire festival, "watch this."

from beside him, megumi crossed his arms. his eyes squinted with the kind of judgment only an six-year-old could muster. then, like a sniper, he fired off the line that would ruin toji's day.

"careful, dad," megumi said, voice loud enough to turn a few heads. "that’s our grocery money for the week."

toji froze mid-reach for the first ball and his jaw clenched. slowly, painfully, he turned to face megumi, who was standing there with a look of angelic smugness.

"megumi," toji growled through gritted teeth, "let's remember who brought you here."

megumi didn’t miss a beat, "oh, right. i'm just worried that dinner tomorrow is soy sauce soup."

"kid’s got jokes," toji muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, his cocky energy now entirely replaced by something closer to "please make this stop."

"oh, i don’t think he’s joking," you teased, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from laughing too hard.

"yeah, definitely not joking," megumi deadpanned, "dad’s gonna start eating protein powder straight from the jar."

"megumi," toji barked, praying for divine intervention that would include his son being carried off by a stork, "you’re grounded."

"for what? telling the truth?"

before toji could escalate into full-on dad-mode, the game attendant — clearly desperate to avoid whatever domestic drama was brewing, handed toji a stuffed panda.

"here, sir, on the house," he said with a strained smile, like he was hoping toji wouldn’t throw a ball through the booth.

toji grabbed the panda and shoved it into your hands with all the grace of a man trying to save face, "here. told you i'd win ya something."

you had just hugged the panda, still grinning ear to ear, "who knew you had a sweet spot? i'll cherish it forever, especially after hearing how hard you worked for it."

megumi, the little bastard, had already wandered off to scope out the cotton candy stand.

toji watched him go, then glanced at you, feeling oddly resigned, "i’m never bringing him to one of these again."

"oh, come on," you said, nudging him playfully, "i'm glad we came. this was fun. besides, he's a sweet kid."

he wondered if you were half-blind, but held his tongue. instead toji groaned, rubbing his temples, 'kid’s not eating for a week."

take #5 — brought the heat back!

it was a quiet thursday evening, the kind of night that lured people into thinking life wasn’t a complete dumpster fire. the sky was fading into a smug sort of pink, and a light breeze was making it just nice enough to forget toji's apartment was a little too warm because he’d cheaped out on air conditioning.

you’d accepted his invitation for dinner, and now here he was, a grown man trying to pretend he wasn’t about to impress the hell out of you with his cooking.

see, toji wasn’t just some dude who could barely boil water. nah, this man knew his way around the kitchen — specifically around a bowl of spicy curry that could win hearts. but he couldn’t let you know that.

toji liked to think that he had a reputation to uphold: rough around the edges, dangerously hot, and way too casual about everything.

so when you walked in, he scratched the back of his head like he’d just thrown the recipe together from a vague memory, muttering, "i dunno, figured i'd try somethin’ new. if it’s bad, there’s takeout."

except this wasn’t new. toji knew exactly what he was doing. his curry was legendary in very specific circles — namely, his own ego.

meanwhile, megumi was hanging around the kitchen like a suspicious little gargoyle, all quiet and sneaky-eyed. that should’ve been the first warning sign.

and when dinner was served, toji had to admit it, it looked perfect. rich, golden curry with just the right balance of spice, heat curling off the plates like a victory lap. hah, an easy win.

you had taken a polite bite, smiling at first. until your face suddenly froze like you'd just been slapped by a fire demon.

"what, it's too spicy?" toji asked, as he watched you struggle to smile. your lips twitching like they were trying to run away.

"no, no!" you wheezed, "it's — it's really good. just got a lil' kick to it, that's all!"

kick? toji blinked. you looked as though you had been delivering a roundhouse to the face.

suspicious now, he scooped up a big bite himself. the moment it hit his tongue, he nearly choked. his sinuses exploded, his tongue went numb, and he could feel sweat instantly forming on his brow.

"what the fuck," he sputtered, slamming down his fork and lunging for his water. toji guzzled it like a man who’d just escaped a desert, while you valiantly kept nibbling as though your dignity depended on it.

megumi, sitting way too calmly at the table, didn’t even flinch. he was eating like the curry was perfectly fine, which made it even worse. this little freak.

toji squinted at his only child, "megumi. what did you do?"

"nothing," the kid said, wide-eyed and dripping with fake innocence. too fake, tsk, toji knew that look. "just...helped with the seasoning."

toji’s stomach dropped, as his blood pressure rose, "how much seasoning?"

megumi shrugged, stabbing at his rice like he wasn’t actively committing a felony, "i dunno. a lot. jus' wanted to be helpful, dad."

"y'trying to kill me? her? yourself?!"

you laughed nervously through the pain, "ah, toji. it’s really not that bad —"

"don’t lie, doll" toji snapped, shooting you a look, "sweatin' like you ran a marathon."

"so are you!" you shot back, snickering. and you weren’t wrong. toji's forehead looked like he’d just finished a full-body workout.

megumi leaned back in his chair, chewing slowly, and said with an infuriating amount of smugness, "i like spicy food."

toji pointed at him, wondering if it would be easier to pick up the kid and launch him out the window, "you better start liking ramen, ‘cause that’s all you’re eating for the next week."

"fine with that," megumi said, clearly unbothered, "isn't that what i eat all the time anyway?”

toji groaned, dragging a hand through his messy hair, which now stuck to his forehead in sweaty, choppy strands.hHe turned to you, desperate for some kind of redemption. "this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. it’s normally amazing. i swear."

"it’s fine," you laughed, even as you sipped water like your life depended on it. "honestly, i think it’s kinda cute."

that threw him for a loop. "cute? what’s cute about this? i just served you a bowl of liquid hell."

you grinned, a little too amused for his liking. "it’s the effort."

toji, for once in his life, had no comeback. he just sighed, defeated, and grabbed his phone to order takeout. megumi, meanwhile, looked entirely too pleased with himself, even lifting the bowl to his lips to smack away the remnants of the soup that he slurped.

interlude: the peace talks

you’re standing outside toji's dingy apartment building, where even the cracks in the walls look like they’ve seen some things. you’re not entirely sure why you’re here. okay, that’s a lie. you’re absolutely sure— it’s because of him. that rough-edged, broad-shouldered man who can bench press your common sense into oblivion. but of course, you’re telling yourself it’s "just to check in."

totally innocent.

you knock. a few beats of silence, then the door creaks open just wide enough for a face to peek out. it's megumi fushiguro, toji's odd kid, and his expression already screams ugh. the kind of look that says, "what does this clown want?"

"uh, hi," you say, suddenly unsure if you’re allowed to be nervous around a first grader, "is toji here?"

megumi stares at you like you just asked if the sky was plaid, "nope," he says flatly, but doesn’t move. he keeps the door partially open, like he’s either waiting for you to leave or deciding if you’re even worth his time.

"oh. okay, that's fine, i'll just —" you motion vaguely toward the stairs, already regretting this whole situation. but then the kid speaks up.

"why do you wanna see him?" his tone is casual, but his eyes? sharp like sea-glass. too sharp for someone so young. he’s leaning on the doorframe now.

you blink, mind going blank.

"i don’t...i mean, i was just dropping by to say hi. that’s all."

megumi tilts his head, scrutinising you like you’re a suspect in a crime only he knows about, "do you like my dad?"

you choke on what must be your last breath on this earth, "what?! no! i mean, what are you even saying, he's..."

you’re spiralling, and megumi's smug little smirk says he knows it. He’s enjoying this way too much.

"sure," he says with a shrug, stepping back into the apartment. he leaves the door wide open like it’s an invitation — or maybe a saw trap. against your better judgment, you follow him in.

megumi plops down on the couch, picking up a laptop like you’re not even there, "you’re not the first," he mutters without looking up.

"what’s that supposed to mean?" you ask, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

he shrugs again, still not meeting your gaze, "just saying, dad’s got... fans." he says it with the kind of disdain only a kid can muster when talking about their parent, "but you’re, like... different."

"different how?" you ask, instantly regretting it. you shouldn’t engage. this is toji's kid, not your personal gossip columnist.

megumi finally looks up, one eyebrow raised, "you don’t seem as dumb as the other ones."

wow. compliment of the century. "that's way harsh. but thanks," you say dryly, crossing your arms. "and here i thought we were bonding."

there’s a flicker of something else in the child's eyes. a glimmer of protectiveness, maybe, "look, i'm just saying...don’t get your hopes up, okay? i don't think my dad's that type of guy."

you frown, perplexed at having this conversation with a child who barely comes up past your waist, "what makes you say that?"

megumi looks like he’s about to launch into a powerpoint presentation on why toji fushiguro Is a walking red flag, but then he stops. his petulant expression shifts, softens, just a little, "i don't anyone to be sad."

and there it is. the kid act drops for a split second, and you see it. he’s not just being a little punk — he's protecting himself. maybe he’s seen toji screw up one too many times, or maybe he’s tired of people coming and going from their lives. either way, you feel a pang of sympathy.

you sit down on the edge of the couch, careful not to invade his space, "i get it,” you say gently, "and i appreciate you looking out for me, and for your father. but...maybe your dad’s not as bad as you think."

megumi snorts, "yeah, right. i think he's a mess."

"well, sometimes messy people need someone to believe in them," you say, surprising even yourself with the honesty in your voice.

he doesn’t respond right away, just stares at the laptop screen like it holds the answers to life. finally, he sighs, closing it with a decisive snap.

"fine. you can...hang out with him. or whatever. i won't pull any dumb shit,” megumi suddenly pauses at the slip of his tongue, “wait, don't tell him i said that word. but if this screws up, i'm saying ‘I told you so."

he sounds like he’s just agreed to let you borrow his favourite video game.

you smile, relieved, "deal."

just then, the front door opens, and in walks toji, all feathery raven hair, sweat-slicked muscles, and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder like he’s just conquered a small country. he pauses when he sees you, eyebrows raising in surprise. "hey, didn’t expect to see you here," he says, voice rough but warm.

before you can respond, megumi pipes up from the couch, "we had important business."

megumi watches you leave, your footsteps echoing down the hallway. you turn back once, smiling at toji like he’s just said something funny — or maybe like he’s not completely hopeless. his dad stands in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically relaxed, a satisfied smirk on his face that makes megumi's stomach churn.

how disgusting.

the second the door clicks shut, toji sighs like some kind of romantic hero from the bad drama his dad loves to secretly watch, running a hand through his choppy black hair and scratching at the back of his neck.

"isn't she cute?" coming from a guy who once tried to flirt with a waitress by asking her how many push-ups she thought he could do.

toji disappears into his room, leaving young, burdened megumi stranded on the couch with his thoughts. his dad — the six-foot-four slab of muscle and bad decisions who calls protein shakes "wizard juice" — is clearly falling for you. and honestly? megumi doesn’t hate the idea. you’re nice. you don’t talk down to him like other adults, and you don’t smell like motor oil and regret like toji's usual crowd.

but toji? his dad couldn’t woo a cactus. if this is going to happen, megumi's going to have to step in. it's the responsible thing to do.

he grabs his laptop again, boots it up, and clicks on the email icon with all the gravitas of a general preparing for war.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: hey gojo i need help message: hey gojo i need help.

he hits send, satisfied. within ten minutes, there’s a reply. gojo's always on his computer nowadays, swamped by senior finals.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: hey gojo i need help message: why are u emailing me. i feel weird emailing a six year old.

megumi rolls his eyes. he’s six, not stupid. he definitely thinks he's smarter than gojo satoru.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: i think my dad has a crush.

there’s a pause. megumi imagines goji sitting in his weirdly pristine apartment downstairs, wearing those stupid sunglasses he insists are cool, trying to process what he just read.

the reply comes in two words.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: come downstairs.

then another one.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: re: re: hey gojo i need help message: let’s debrief. i got cookies.

megumi shuts his laptop, slides off the couch, and heads for the door. it's time someone with real intelligence got involved.

megumi fushiguro sits at the kitchen table, eating rainbow cereal and trying to ignore the way his dad is pacing the room like a stressed-out gorilla. toji fushiguro, a walking, grunting tank of a man, is mumbling under his breath about "women" and "bad timing" and something about his shirt being "too tight." not that his dad has any normal shirts — just those stupid gym shirts.

megumi, as the only person in this house with half a brain cell, knows exactly what’s going on. his dad's got it bad for you.

not that he thinks that his dad would admit it. no, his dad's strategy for dealing with his obvious feelings is to act like a complete idiot whenever you’re around. last time, he dropped a dumbbell on himself while trying to show off. the time before that, he laughed so hard at one of your jokes he spat coffee everywhere. megumi had to clean it up.

so yeah, his dad was hopeless, and apparently, it’s megumi's job to fix it.

but megumi doesn’t think of himself as a matchmaker. he thinks of himself as a tortured genius, forced to live among lesser idiots. and frankly, he doesn’t even like the idea of his dad dating. because that's gross.

but the truth is, megumi's tired of toji stomping around the apartment like a lovesick rhino, and if getting you and his dad together means toji might finally stop asking megumi if his hair looks "cool," then so be it.

he starts small. when you knock on the door that afternoon, megumi answers and blocks the entrance like a bouncer, just like gojo told him to.

"oh, dad's not here again," he says, casual.

your face falls, and megumi immediately clocks it. bingo.

"you're in luck today, lady. wait here," he interrupts, darting inside, "i'll grab him."

except his dad is in there, muttering something about a broken pipe in the kitchen, while tapping furiously on his phone. megumi marches in, hands on his hips.

"i let her in," he announces, like a town crier.

his dad looks up, like a deer caught in the headlights of his own stupidity, "what? why didn’t you tell me? damn punk," he scrambles for a shirt.

"i'm telling you now, dad," megumi says, dully, "also, you’re acting like a weirdo. just go talk to her. ask her out."

toji freezes, halfway into his shirt, "what's gotten into you, kid? gonna drop a knife on me, huh? what am i supposed to say?"

megumi resists the urge to roll his eyes so hard they fall out of his head, "i don't know. say hi to her. maybe don't mention the gym."

his dad frowns, "you're six, punk. what do you know? people like hearing about that shit."

"not normal people."

once toji is finally presentable — or as presentable as a man with permanent bedhead and a scar on his lip can be — megumi ushers him out of the room. then, like the misunderstood mastermind he is, megumi follows quietly, lurking behind the door to eavesdrop.

toji opens the door to find you standing there, fiddling with the strap of your bag. his usual dumb smirk creeps onto his face, "hey, didn’t expect to see you here," he says, leaning on the doorframe like he thinks he’s starring in a cologne commercial.

"yeah, i was just...in the neighborhood," you say, sounding way too nervous for someone who claims this is a casual visit.

megumi winces. they’re hopeless. this is your neighbourhood, too.

toji scratches the back of his neck, a nervous tick Megumi’s only seen when he’s trying not to embarrass himself, "well, uh, you wanna come in? i was just... doing some cleaning. we can...talk, or some shit like that."

megumi knows for a fact that there's a lie in toji's words. the only cleaning his dad's ever done is shoving everything into the closet and calling it "organised."

but somehow, it works. you step inside, smiling at him like he just offered you free ice cream. now, that would be a decent offer.

from his spot behind the door, megumi mentally pats himself on the back. phase one: complete. he decides to clock out, flopping back on his rumpled bed to pull his laptop back out, immediately logging back onto his game.

but by the time you leave an hour later, toji looks like he just won the lottery. you’re smiling too, waving awkwardly before heading down the stairs. and ugh, gross! you lean in and press a soft kiss to toji's cheek before you turn.

as soon as the door shuts, toji leans against it and lets out the most ridiculous sigh megumi has ever heard.

"hah, kid. she likes me," his dad says, grinning like a lovesick idiot.

megumi, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, crosses his arms, "that's foul. but no thanks to you."

his dad opens one sharp green eye at him, and scowls. "what’s that supposed to mean?"

"it means," megumi says, feeling a lifetime of bribery for ice-cream excite him, "you owe me. big time."

toji’s standing in the doorway, looking at megumi like he just asked him to join some cult. he scratches the back of his head, giving megumi that look — like he’s trying to figure out what the hell his kid is up to now.

"eh, you look weird today," toji mutters, a half-smirk tugging at his lips. he reaches down and ruffles megumi’s hair like it’s no big deal, making it stick up even more. his hair gets all spiky and untamable, and megumi scowls, smoothing it down, trying (and failing) to get his dark spikes to behave.

"yeah, whatever, dad," megumi mutters under his breath as toji turns and saunters off into his room. toji’s probably about to do a hundred push-ups and gloat to himself. megumi can already hear the dumb grunting from the other room.

as soon as toji’s gone, megumi sits back down at the table, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

for once, the apartment is quiet. no random phone calls, no weird people showing up, no random training sessions that sound more like a one-man wrecking crew than “exercise.” just peace.

it’s bliss.

he takes another bite of cereal, enjoying the calm and the fact that someone else is going to have to deal with toji’s nonsense for once. it’s about time.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: mission accomplished message: it worked. my dad's in love.

a few seconds later, gojo’s reply pops up.

to: demondog02@mail.com from: thestrongest@mail.com subject: re: mission accomplished message: that's great! wanna help me with the guy i like?

megumi squints at the screen, blinking twice. he closes his laptop with all the gravity of someone who has just solved world peace.

to: thestrongest@mail.com from: demondog02@mail.com subject: re: re: mission accomplished message: no.