#just one big tw

[mossy-rot]

Long post time! been reading and I'm sure someone has talked about this before but. Does Dazai's characterization unnerve anyone else when put in context of the real Osamu Dazai.

I would like to preface this saying this isn't like, a callout post or saying that "you should stop watching/reading BSD because it's problematic and the author should be cancelled!!!!" so don't get yourself all in a bunch if you don't like the post (I've seen y'all with ships, it gets hella ugly). I myself am going to continue watching BSD despite my feelings in this post just because I enjoy the show- if something was going to get me to stop watching it would've been Naomi or Mori lol but I digress.

I'll need to do some research to see if Sango Harukawa has any specific reasoning, if they do this with the other characters and their reference authors, etc but upon reading No Longer Human and reading in depth about Osamu Dazai's life it's all so.. unsettling, choice-wise. I'm most likely predicting the choice was made due to No Longer Human being the second best selling novel of all time in Japan, which I'm hoping is the case and they just made an uneducated choice in poor taste. Again, I'll need to do more research.

I'll be brief but if you want a very in depth explanation about the book and author you can find that here (although I recommend the video if you can handle the topics anyway, it's a great essay). However I cannot stress enough that this needs a massive TW for many things- and that includes this post. If you know anything about No Longer Human, you know that it is extremely haunting and dark. I do not use that lightly. so if you can't deal with mentions of things like: suicide and/or suicidal thoughts, violence against women, child abuse, sexual abuse, alcohol abuse, and drug abuse, please skip this post and the video.

But in brief, the story, which is a partial autobiography about Osamu, it follows someone with a disturbed point of view- he doesn't feel desires or normal emotions as others do, he has a very different way of viewing the world that most don't get. Because of this, he grows terrified of people as a whole- more specifically, their desires, and what they're willing to do to achieve those desires. This is brought to light particularly early when he is abused- physically, emotionally, and sexually- by his father's servants as a child. Many events occur, including multiple unsuccessful suicide attempts- both alone and double suicides with lovers, all of whom do not survive. He slowly picks up a drinking problem along the way, as well as a drug addiction to morphine. This isn't a very coherent explanation, of course, but it's a gist.

Bringing it back to the real person- many of these things reflected into his own life. And although No Longer Human ended with the main character disappearing into an indifferent life, this was not the case with Osamu Dazai, who, one month later, was found having committed suicide with his mistress, Tomai.

So the choice for Dazai to be very suicidal, attempting often, trying to convince women to do a double suicide with him, and for this to be all played as a joke and inconvenience to the main cast- minus Atsushi- especially with Dazai's implied issue with alcohol (although this can be overlooked)- is... unsettling. Something about choosing such a broken and haunting book, and an equally broken author- it just doesn't sit right with me. I would forgive it if his behavior was more crucial to the main plot, or if it was far less prominent, but it's almost always the end of a joke. This is less of an issue in later seasons which is nice, but for me it always leaves this undeniable sour taste in my mouth whenever I think about it.

I love Dazai, I do, but it's a weird choice when you read the book. I had only watched a few episodes whenever I had picked up Junji Ito's adaptation not knowing that it was so, and was taken back by just how dark it was. I delved further, and it just got worse from there. It was a pretty violent shock when I realized that the anime I just started watching had a character by the same name of the author of this horrifying story. This is more a ramble than anything, and if anyone has anything to add or any more info to clear this up or add context please do! I've only watched BSD and haven't listened to much outside of it. I'd love to see some discussions about this.

[siscon-stsg]

could you write a scenario about gojo fucking his sweet little virgin and innocent sister. When he looked so long her cunt, she blushed and said;

Nii-chan, p-please don't look at it

I love your writings <3

(CW: incest, innocent and virgin reader, my bad writing and not beta'd, satoruniichan being manipulative cuz yeah that's him. name-calling. oral (f receiving). corruption. degradation if you squint i guess? finger-sucking. cliff hanger cuz i'm evil)

THANK YOU PRETTY BABY YOU'RE THE BESTTT!!! i'm kissing you on the mouth mmmmmmwah c'mere. i suck at writing full pieces, haven't done it in literal AGES, but i did my best for you!! so sorry if it sucks!! my brain hurts i am not used to thinking for long periods of time. /j

satoru's eyes were impossible to escape from. he'd always make you feel naked under his gaze, like two stars sucking the light out of the night sky.

but now they gazed down at you with such hunger it was almost threatening.

“hmmm,” he hummed with a grin, long fingers tracing aimless patterns all over your wet cunny; “don' close y'r legs, pretty. don' ya wanna make your big bro happy?”

and that only made you whimper more. what was so entertaining about this? you struggled not to close your thighs around his pretty head of white hair. “niichan! don't look!”

your parents could be home any minute! what would they say if they saw you like that? knees to your chest on the living room couch, satoru inspecting you down there like he was eyeing a ring at a jewelry store!

he played with your puffy lips, rubbing them up an down. he pulled down the hood around your clit, he stretched your entrance to the sides with both thumbs; only to laugh at the sticky trails of pussy juice drooling down from it.

“why not?” satoru had to laugh at you. some nerve you had to complain, really, when your little pussy was drenched and pulsing, so far untouched. he spat on you, spreading it around your pink flesh with a thumb, and smirked when it got you all squirmy.

“c'mon, be good 'n stay still”. a firm, steadying hand pressed down on your tummy. “y're more than old 'nough to still be a virgin, y'know? i'd be embarrassed if i were you”.

was that true? was not having sex at your age that bad?

satoruniichan always had so many friends, did so much better in school than you, was always dating one girl or another... he'd know about that sort of thing, right?

after all, you were always picked on for being the prune little sister. your parents never approved of any boy you had a crush on, and being a good daughter you never went against their wishes.

satoru caught on your dilemma quick. he leaned in close, blowing his hot, tickly breath teasingly over your clit. “wan' big bro to change that?”

“change w-what? hm!” you moaned. this time you couldn't stop your thighs from closing when satoru's lips sucked on your clitty, slurping loudly until you cried out.

“pop y'r cherry, dummy,” your big bro chuckled. “that way, y' won' be so pathetic anymore”.

the name stung, “pathetic”. tho you could barely think about that with satoru loudly licking, slurping, kissing, burying his face into your pussy. nose into your clit, and purring. arms hugging your hips so you can't escape his hungry stimulation.

you couldn't even think, only moan and shiver. were big brothers even supposed to do this sort of thing to their little sisters? but then again, it felt so good!

satoru pulled back with your clitty slurped between your lips, giddy for the cute cries you let out. “'nd?” he said, voice much deeper and husky than before.

“c'monnn, say yes!” his cheeks puffed up and satoru pouted, like a spoiled child begging for candy. only that this “child” was rubbing your clit in tight frenzied circles with his thumb, not slowing down even as you trashed and squirmed and whimpered. satoru dove tongue first into your soppy hole, muffling his words in your sloshy muscles: “d'y' wanth t' be p'thethic 'll y'r lwife 'r noth?”

“n-niichan!” is all you could say, or cry. your muscles were stiffing up, specially down your belly. satoru seemed impatient, because his tongue swiftly exchanged placed with two long, too long fingers that crooked inside your virgin pussy. he felt around, until finding your gummy, sensitive little walls.

he thrusted and thrusted from his wrist at a sadistic pace, laughing at you and at your slutty teary face. you were going to be such a whore, he just knew. “wanna cum, huh? my pretty sluts wan's to cum?”

“y-yeees!”

your clit felt on fire under his slimy tongue. your walls were spasming, pussy crying as much as your eyes and it was like your body was made of jelly. you shivered and cried, and when your back arched, hips bucking against his hand, your eyes saw heaven and stars twinkled behind your eyelids and

satoru stopped.

“noooo! no! why'd you sto- mmph!” his slick fingers stopped your whining by thrusting down your throat. you almost gagged, throat and pussy convulsing in synch.

the albino sat back on his heels without pulling back from your mouth; one hand fumbling with his sweatpants until it came out springing. angry red, leaky, pulsing, and he rubbed the tip of his dick a couple times against your slit with a deep grunt.

“didn't give ya permission t' cum, did i? now open up f'my cock, slut”

[jacobglaser]

Now, in the darkness, at the very heart of the world, the drums of war thunder once again. And Azeroth, at last, awakens. The Worldsoul, so long denied me, shall be mine.

→ World of Warcraft: The War Within

[gojoest]

i am thinking about girl dad satoru measuring his daughter’s height by drawing a line on the doorframe and tearing up every time at the difference and how she’s growing up too fast….can’t she just stay his little girl forever? :,) he is not taking it well, really, and it’s your job to pick up the pieces

[termiken]

LAIOS TOUDEN BLINKIES I MADE!!!!

feel free to use but please reblog!

[snackugaki]

one orrrr

two?

[betweenblackberrybranches]

Encounter in the moonlight Part one

>

When meeting a feeding and injured old one it is very important to keep calm. Usually Y/N would leave, put up wards and warn the villagers but this one is way too close to the village to keep everyone safe. So communication is the next best thing. Witches usually talk to old ones by entering their domain. A mental conection is formed and the old one and the witch meet on a level playing field, a dimention linked to all old ones. A risky move but a well prepared witch would be able to manouver a negotiation easily... lets see how Y/N does when unexpectedly Moon joins them.... knowing how bad he reacts to the old ones... and how badly they react to him

[alpaca-suri]

just created a drink i'm calling The Apple 4 Way

it is very radioactive looking (even more so irl) and very sweet

loosely inspired by this image: (source)

ingrediments:

2 parts Suntory Strong Zero Green Apple

2 parts Monster Ultra Sunrise

1 part Gatorade Green Apple

1 part Strongbow Golden Apple

by the way i did try just the strong zero and monster and it was just okay

i also realize this looks like a certain other beloved mixed drink

anyways drink responsibly and all that

[gbirrd]

8/9 - Steph Brown tarot card designs for Complete Candor by @vexfulfolly as part of the @batfam-big-bang

Read the fic here!

Other cards:

1-Babs 2-Cass 3-Bruce 4-Tim 5-Damian 6-Jason 7-Duke 8-Steph 9-Dick

Image IDs

Image 1:

A design of the "Judgement" tarot card. It has the texture of recycled paper and reads "JUDGEMENT". A symbol of two clouds is visible behind the numeral "XX".

Steph Brown faces foward in her Spoiler uniform. She has pupil-less white eyes and is shrouded in purple smoke. There are a few stylised lilac-coloured clouds in the foreground, partially obscuring her. The bottom half of Cluemaster's face is visible in the background with a hand reaching to grab her.

Image 2:

A design of the "Judgement" tarot card. It has the texture of recycled paper and reads "JUDGEMENT" upside-down. A symbol of a rabbit and a wolf is visible behind the numeral "XX".

Steph Brown stands with her back turned in her Robin uniform. She is standing in a pool of blood. A large shadowy Batman is in the background. The lower half of his face is visible and his hand reaches out to grab her. The yellow bat on his chest fades into the blood. The entire card is upside-down.

[brekitten]

Bruce doesn't dream.

He never has, really - at least, not that he can remember. He never even had nightmares from the night his parents died. Maybe that's why; maybe he just subconsciously trained himself to not dream after that night, in fear of the nightmares that were sure to come. But the point is that he does not dream.

And yet.

The dream always starts out the same, every night, every time he closes his eyes and slips into the embrace of sleep. He's in a pitch-black room, one so dark that he can't see his hands even when he raises them right in front of his face. He knows, somehow, that he can walk for hours without coming into contact with anything - walls, furniture, anything at all to indicate that he was even in a room. Yet he knows that he is, although he's not sure why, as there really is no reason for him to know that.

The dream changes, after a while of walking. He knows that he won't find anything, no matter how far or how long he walks. This place is empty, desolate even. It fills him with dread every time. The change is never consistent, always bringing him to a different place each night.

(Once, it was a dusty old bedroom, one that made his heart ache, although he didn't know why. He had taken notice of the various space-themed decorations, the model rockets and NASA posters and stars on the ceiling. It was clearly a child's bedroom, but it hadn't been used in a long time. Another time, it was a darkened lab, illuminated only by the strange vials of green liquid lined along the many, many shelves. Bruce had wondered, after he had awoken, if it was Lazarus Water, but that felt wrong. It was something else. Something more. It had made him uneasy, and he got the feeling that something terrible had happened there. He didn't get a chance to investigate the gaping hole in the wall before he had been whisked away to another part of the dream.)

This time, he is in a brightly-lit white lab, and he has to blink stars out of his eyes at the abrupt change in lighting and color. He looks around; it seems like a typical lab, but everything is pure white, except for a green stain on the table. He can feel bile rising in his throat at the sight of the cuffs on the table, and though he still doesn't know what the green substance is, he gets the horrible feeling that it's blood. A lot of it.

He uses what little time he has to investigate the lab. There is an abundance of medical supplies, but many look unused, with the exception of the scalpels. The pit in his stomach continues to grow. Why were there so many? He reaches toward a vial of red liquid, wrong wrong wrong this is wrong, when the dream changes again.

Now he's in what is clearly a cell, except even the cells in Arkham aren't this bare. The only thing it contains is a familiar white-haired teenager, who is chained to the floor with cuffs that glow the same green as the vials of Lazarus Water that he's seen before.

Though Bruce has never learned his name, he has been in every dream, the one constant (besides the empty room, of course) in each one. The kid has never spoken, never done more than watch, but Bruce has always gotten the feeling that he was the reason for these strange dreams.

He knows that he should be more worried. If some kind of meta has managed to get inside his head, there's no telling what could happen. But he can't bring himself to be. Something is wrong, and it's not the teenager.

He can't help but think of his own children.

Something feels . . . off this time. The kid isn't looking up, isn't even moving - he seems limp, almost, as he kneels on the ground, weighed down by the chains keeping him there. Green blood - Bruce knows it's blood now, it has to be - drips from his still figure, pooling on the ground underneath him.

Bruce can't move. He desperately wants to, what could he even do? but it's like he's frozen in place. He can only watch as the teenager slowly, agonizingly, looks up at him, his bright green eyes dull and filled with fear and desperation and hope and -

Bruce wakes.

[baejax-the-great]

My brother died very suddenly yesterday.

He was the kind of person who always had dozens and dozens of friends everywhere he went because he was easy to talk to and funny and treated people with respect, and his friends ranged in class, race, age, social ability, introversion and extroversion--no matter who you were, he could and would befriend you.

He would scold me for not asking him for help when I needed it, and he would mean it. He taught me to tip well. He loved helping people. He played practical jokes on the new kids at work, including getting one guy to "chop flour" because the flour they had in the kitchen was "too coarse."

He introduced me to some of the best food I've ever eaten in my life. He would always help with a recipe that wasn't working. He would tell me what to buy my foodie friends for their birthdays, and he never got it wrong. He loved meat and whiskey but also wine and fruit and he got me to eat beets even because he knew how to make anything good.

Mostly, he thought that people were all deserving of respect and decency. He was outspoken on this. For all that his friends ranged across demographics, he didn't tolerate anyone being hateful around him. But even then, he was nice about it. He would try to get people to come around to his side. He saw the good in people.

And he was happy. He had finally quit chewing tobacco and managed to stay off it for three years. He had a girlfriend he really liked. The pandemic had put him out of work for over a year, but he was back at his job and doing well and he liked it. He was good at it. And it's complete bullshit that he's gone.

[saetoshis]

the obsession is coming back👹

[quirkle2]

[zombie au] the image is too big for tumblr i had to cut it in half GVEAUYGV (please for the love of god zoom in)

[dustykneed]

Wow. surprisingly peaceful domestic moment. When will it be ruined? /ref Bones + Spock @ Jim (mcspirk)

here ya go anon !! thank you so much for the req<33

the reason bones and spock are always arguing is because every time they agree on something the universe will make jim do something completely reckless and stupid just to fill the old married couple bitchiness deficit in the space-time continuum. (also psst if jim hadn't interrupted his husbands in panel two spock would totally have worked his way up to resting his hand on bones' shoulder lmao)

[sqwdkllr]

I’m also working on some banger art until I got hit with the news that cucurucho went missing and we have probably been watching osito for who knows how long trying to be the serious one. I’m coping very well as you can tell

[aerostaticsurrender]