#I AM JUST THINKING AND THE HUMAN AND INHUMAN AGAIN

[lanternlightss]

today i have thought sm about my beloved oc’s mel and cerelia and i am feeling so completely normal about them (this is a lie i am so unwell)

[a-cat-in-toffee]

coughs violently. hello chatters.

[incendiorum]

I wish I could put you all in my head for like 5 minutes so you can absorb all of my thoughts and feelings on iovita's gender and then I could pull you back out and we could both nod and shake hands

[wachi-delectrico]

Tbh i don't know what to think of AI art anymore. I don't find any utility, personally, in centring the discussion on law and copyright; there are far more interesting things to discuss on the topic beyond its use as a replacement for human artists/workforce by the upper class

[suguwu]

WOULD THAT I: PROLOGUE

The Gojo boy doesn't have a soulmate.

When you're both children, you overhear him being referred to as inhuman, between his power and his lack of a mark. The next time you see him, you use a marker to write your name on his skin, too young to understand what it means.

You forget, but Gojo—

Gojo never does.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

masterlist

pairing: gn!reader x gojo

wc: 2.6k

notes: thank you to my beta, as always! especially for putting up with my bratty ass and reading this early so i could post it earlier. this has been a fun fic to get started and i hope you enjoy the prologue!

content warnings: none. see masterlist for series content warnings.

The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate.

You don’t think you’re supposed to know; it’s only ever talked about in hushed voices. The clans all speak like that, sometimes, each word a butterfly’s wing as it flutters from their mouths.

The servants, however, are louder.

One of them has a voice like a lark, a sweet, trilling song. It carries. You learn to hear her coming, to recognize her shadow against the shoji. You know the edges of her by heart. Sometimes she spreads her arms out as she makes her way through the hallway; her kimono sleeves flare out behind her like wings. 

“There’s something wrong with the Gojo heir,” she sings one afternoon, her fluting voice half-muffled by the shoji. “Those eyes of his—it’s like he can see right through you. And Fujioka says he doesn’t have a soulmark.” 

Another servant hushes her. “Don’t gossip,” she chides. 

“It’s true, though!”

“That doesn’t mean you should repeat it.” 

She huffs, grumbling something too soft for you to hear anything aside from the melody of it. The other servant laughs quietly before chivvying her forward. You watch until their shadows disappear, leaving only the hallway light to filter golden through the shoji. 

You return to your coloring book.

The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate, but that doesn’t mean anything to you.

Not yet. 

—

There’s a boy in the courtyard.

He’s hopping from stone to stone in the koi pond, his snow-white hair glittering under the morning sun. He moves like a dancer, each step sure and swift, never once slipping on the wet rock. When he gets to the biggest rock in the pond, he crouches down, his back to you, and drags his fingers over the surface of the water. The koi rise to meet him, firework scales flashing in the sun. 

You watch him from the engawa, peeking out at him from behind one of the columns. You’ve never seen him before, and you’d remember him, with his starlight hair. 

“Who’re you?” he asks, not turning around.

You stay quiet.

“I know you’re there,” he says. “You can’t hide from me.”

He glances over his shoulder and the world goes blue.

It’s the cold burn of a comet’s tail streaking through the velvet night. It’s oceantide, relentless and unyielding. It’s a slice of the sky brought down to earth, heaven devoured.

Then he blinks, and he’s just a boy again. 

“Who’re you?” you ask, stepping to the edge of the engawa. 

He lifts his chin. “I asked you first.”

You introduce yourself the way your mother taught you, bowing to him shallowly. 

He scoffs. “You’re not even from the main clan.”

“Are you?”

“I’m not part of your stupid clan.”

“Oh.”

He stares at you, his crystalline eyes sharp-edged, all prismatic ice. “You don’t know who I am?”

“Nope.”

He rises to his full height, unfolding like an elegant crane. “I’m Gojo Satoru.” 

You tilt your head. The servants’ humming gossip made the Gojo heir sound ethereal, a fallen star that had burned away into human form as it plummeted through the heavens. His eyes are otherworldly, and you can feel the power rippling out from his lean form, as unstoppable as the tides, but—

“You’re just a boy,” you say. 

He scowls. “Am not.”

“Are too.” 

“I’m Gojo Satoru,” he says again, deeper this time, an intonation, a promise, a curse. His eyes flash, St. Elmo’s fire, a lightning strike of blue. “I have the Limitless and the Six Eyes. I’m not just a boy.”

You would believe him, but the last bit sounded more sulky than anything else. You’re about to tell him so when someone calls your name. You glance over your shoulder, but there are no shadows against the shoji yet.

When you turn back around, there are wet patches shining on the stones in the koi pond, an imprint of the past, but nothing else.

The Gojo boy is gone.

—

Your mother is hovering. 

She smooths down your yukata, chasing creases from the thin cotton with trembling hands. There hadn’t been time to change; she’d pulled you out of your lessons and hurried you down the hallways of the estate. 

“Bow low when you meet him,” she tells you, though she hasn’t bothered to tell you who ‘he’ is. “Understand?”

You nod. 

There’s a fine layer of sweat gleaming at your mother’s nape as she kneels before the shoji. She reaches out to open it; her kimono sleeve slips down, revealing the elegant curve of her wrist. You focus there instead of the opening shoji, the slow slide of it a hissing snake, coiled to bite.

The shoji clicks, a chime of teeth, its maw wide open. You take in a deep breath and step through, your gaze on the tatami mats. Someone shifts.

“Oh, it’s you.”

You glance up, directly into the gaze of Gojo Satoru. His eyes are as otherworldly as you remember, a crisp, clear blue framed in long lashes, like a snowy-edged mountain lake. He tilts his head as you gape, his hair gleaming bone-white in the sun streaming through the open shoji. 

You blink. “What’re you doing here?” you ask, and next to you, your mother hisses in a low, sharp breath. 

Gojo shrugs. “Dunno. The clan said I had to come and they caught me when I snuck out.”

The woman behind Gojo clears her throat. “Gojo-sama,” she says, her voice like the shivering leaves when the summer breeze stirs to life, “they’re a candidate for you to train with.” 

He eyes you. “Why?” he asks. “They’re not very strong.”

“Hey!” 

“You aren’t, though,” he says. “I can tell.”

You throw yourself at him.

His eyes widen, a devouring sea, and he grunts as you make impact. He’s sturdier than you thought; he’s slight, but it’s all lean muscle, even though he can’t be much older than you are. Your mother calls out your name, horrified, but Gojo is already recovering, grappling with you for control. 

By the time the adults pull you apart, Gojo is nursing a rapidly-purpling mark high on his cheekbone. Your split lip aches; you tongue at it and wince. You can taste blood, sour and metallic. You glare at Gojo even as your mother bows deeply to the woman.

“My deepest apologies,” she says, tightening her grip on the sleeve of your yukata and forcing you to bow with her. “I don’t know what came over them.”

The woman clicks her tongue. “The child should be punished,” she says, and your mother stiffens. “I would suggest—”

“No.” 

Everyone looks at Gojo. He thumbs at a rip in his kimono, grinning widely. It bares his teeth. 

“I’ll train with them,” he says.

“Gojo-sama—”

“I said I’d train with them. Now can we go? I want a popsicle.” 

The woman sighs. “Yes, Gojo-sama.” 

Gojo sweeps by you and your mother. He pauses right next to you. “You’re weak,” he tells you, ignoring the way you bristle, “but at least you’re fun.”  

He’s out the shoji before you can respond.

—

Summer settles over Kyoto, a wet lick of heat. Even the wind seems to feel it; it ripples honey-slow through the trees, barely strong enough to stir the air. Frogs move into the koi pond in the courtyard; they sing along with the cicadas’ sawing choir. 

“Catch it!” Gojo shouts as your hands spear through the murky pond water. It gushes free from between your fingers as you come up empty-handed, the frog you were aiming for frantically disappearing further below the surface. “You’re so slow.”

“Am not!”

“Are too,” he counters, holding out his cupped hands. A plaintive ribbit sounds out from between them. “I already caught one. It was easy.”

“You’re annoying.”

He stares at you, his blue eyes icy. “You’re annoying.”  

“You’re the one who came over.”

He rolls his eyes. “We train at your estate.”

“How come?”

“How come what?”

“How come we train here? Your estate is probably better.”

He shrugs, opening his hands enough to peer down at the frog. It glistens in the sunlight, the same deep green as the lush courtyard. It makes a break for freedom; he closes his hands again, his long fingers sewing the gap shut. “I like it better here.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Why?”

“I just do,” he says, voice flat.

You don’t ask again.

—

“Why are we here?”

Gojo blinks, his long white lashes sweeping over the sweet curve of his cheek. “Why are you whispering?”

Your cheeks heat. The Gojo estate is a sprawling, massive maw; you’ve felt devoured ever since you set foot in it. Even the golden light that slants through the shoji feels cold. There are ikebana arrangements lining the halls, the leggy, deep purple irises sculptural as they rise proudly from the vases, but it still feels like a mausoleum. 

“We’ve just never trained here before,” you say, taking care to use your regular voice. “So why are we here now?”

He shrugs. “They insisted.”

“Who?”

He dismisses the question with a wave of his hand, his long pianist’s fingers cutting through the air. You roll your eyes, long used to his occasionally imperious ways. The two of you continue along the hallways, you trailing after him closely, as if caught in his gravity, an orbiting moon. 

You almost run into him when he comes to a sudden halt. You peek around him—in the last few months, he’s gone through a growth spurt, one that your mother says will come when you’re his age, and he’s too tall to peer over his shoulder—and see a servant bowing low, her ebony hair glinting.

“Gojo-sama,” she says. “Please follow me. The elders are waiting.”

He sighs, a dramatic heave of his chest. “What do they want?”

“They didn’t specify.”

“Ugh.”

“Gojo-sama—”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he says. “Go tell those geezers I’ll be there soon.” 

You wince right along with the servant. Gojo’s disdain for the elders is not new, but it still unnerves you every time, as if they will come along and smite you down. 

“C’mon,” Gojo says to you. “Let’s get it over with.”

The servant clears her throat. “Only you, Gojo-sama.”

He glares, his blue eyes burning, a comet streaking through the sky. “No,” he says. “They’re coming.”

“They cannot.”

“I said they’re coming.” 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, eyes wide. “Really.” 

Gojo looks back at you. For a second, his mouth is a wound, tender and pink, but in the next breath, it’s gone, frozen under a layer of ice.

“Fine.” 

You bite your lip, but he’s already walking away. You catch yourself before you reach for him. He disappears down the hallway, his hair glinting like exposed bone.

The servant turns to you. “This way,” she says, her voice perfectly neutral.

You follow her to an empty room; she slides the shoji shut behind herself as you settle onto the cushion at the chabudai. You gaze around the room. There’s not much to take in; it’s wealthy in a subdued way. You fidget with the hem of your sleeve and then get to your feet.

You slide open the shoji leading out to the engawa; it opens onto a huge, lush courtyard. The plush flowers are weighted down by their own blooms, their stems curving like a dancer’s back. A shishi-odoshi rings out with a hollow thud; a few songbirds scatter, their wings rustling like leaves as they soar towards the sky. 

You step out onto the engawa. It’s still early enough that the sun slants onto the wood, warming it. You sit down and bask in it, tilting your face up for the sun’s sweet kiss. You lay back, your eyes fluttering shut.

A voice wakes you.

“He’s an insolent brat!” a man hisses. “He needs to be taken in hand!”

“He’s too powerful,” another man answers. His voice is calm, but you can sense the ripples in it, the thing lurking underneath. “We can only do what we’re already doing.”

You go still. They can only be talking about Gojo. Their footsteps echo; they’re drawing closer and closer.

“It’s not enough.” 

“He’s still young. Maybe we can mold him.” 

The first man snorts. “You don’t believe that.”

“No, I don’t.” 

“There’s something wrong with that boy,” the first man says. “Those eyes—that power—and not even a hint of a mark. He’s barely human.”

Their footsteps are starting to fade; their voices become murmurs. But you still hear it when the second man says:

“I don’t think he’s human at all.”

Then they’re gone, fading from your world like malevolent spirits, dissipating on the wind. You unclench your fists and find that your nails have bitten into your skin, little half-moon curves cutting through the leylines of your palms. 

Gojo shows up a mere minute later. He slides open the shoji with a bang; his eyes find you immediately. 

“C’mon,” he says, stepping out into the courtyard. His eyes are shadowed; his lips are pulled tight, an unstitched wound. He’s heard them, you realize. You’ve never seen him bothered by other people’s opinions; your chest aches, a pressed bruise. You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t find the words. 

He grabs your hand as he passes by you, tugging you along behind him, ignoring your surprised yelp. “Let’s go before those stupid geezers find me again.” 

“Where are we going?”

“Away from here.”

“But my shoes—”

He glances back at you and you drown in blue. 

“Okay,” you say quietly. “Let’s go.” 

He doesn’t answer; he just tugs you along. You stare at the back of his head for a moment, trying to make sense of the expression you’d seen flash across his face before he’d turned around again. You can’t understand it, but you know one thing.

He’s never looked more human to you.

—

The next time you see him, you’re prepared.

You uncap the marker with your teeth. You reach out for Gojo’s arm; he pulls away before you can grab hold, as quick as a darting fish. 

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Give me your arm.” 

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” 

He eyes you for a moment, but gives you his arm.

You push up his yukata sleeve to expose the tender underbelly of his wrist. You start to write, laboring over each stroke of the marker, keeping it as neat as you can. The silver ink covers the rivers of his blue-green veins as it sinks into his skin, a childish tattoo. 

“There,” you say, finishing with a somewhat-shaky flourish. “Now you have a mark.”

Gojo stares at you, his cerulean gaze lit from within, the sea beneath the sun. He covers the katakana of your name with his free hand, careful not to smudge the still-drying characters. Under the shadow, they fade to gray, but they still glint and glimmer the same way real soulmarks do. 

You hum, pleased with yourself, cap the marker, and toss it to the side so you can start training. 

You don’t know it yet, but it’s your last session with him. He disappears into the dawn like a fading star, spirited off to Tokyo to continue his training. You’ve only spent six months with him. Still, it aches, a pressed bruise, but you’ve always known he would outgrow you; his power is a black hole, always devouring. 

Life, ever unmoved, continues on. 

The boy you knew fades from your memories, though you never forget him. It’s impossible, with the stories that come out of Tokyo, how he completes missions that no one his age should be able to handle. 

Still, you forget things. The tilt of his mouth; the cadence of his voice. He becomes a shadow of himself, a shade with burning blue eyes. 

You forget that you once wrote your name on the delicate inside of his wrist. 

Gojo, though—

Gojo never does.

[rowarn]

shadow entity!ghost part: one | two | three

cw: angry!ghost, umm he hurts u )-:, but he feels bad so it's okay, a bit shorter than other parts

the mystery surrounding ghost was driving you insane. living with a primordial entity of unfathomable horrors was already a mindfuck but now you realized it could just...erase people from existence.

no one had asked about phillip, no one had shown up to seek you out since you were the last one to see him before he vanished. you even wandered into the bar he said he frequented -- and he seemed well known in. and...nothing. no one even brought up how he went home with you and never returned. no one asked about him.

it was unnerving. had ghost somehow pulled all memory of this one human out of the world along with its physical form? where did phillip even go? all you remember was being surrounded by the shadow and how hard it was to breathe -- and the horrible, inhuman scream before silence.

it had already confirmed that it wasn't a ghost. so what was it?

"ghost?" you called into the house as you returned from the bar, "can you come out so we can talk?"

as you stepped into the living room, you took a glance at the scorch mark on the floor before your attention was diverted to it -- a shadowy manifestation across from you.

it didn't speak, simply stood there. usually you would divert your eyes from its face because something about it unsettled you, but this time you stared right at it. shapes formed and faded before your eyes, making you wonder if you were really seeing them in the first place. eyes, sometimes two sometimes dozens. a vague, fading silhouette of a skull face. you wonder if it intentionally let you see these images or if it just was.

"i-i want to know..." you swallow thickly around the nervous lump in your throat, "is phillip dead?"

it was quiet for a moment, "not quite."

"what's that mean? where is he?" you prod, furrowing your brows as you stare at it, hoping that it can understand your pleading.

"why do you care?"

"b-because..." you sputtered, licking your dry lips, "i just...want to know."

"he's in the pits," it finally supplies, sounding almost bored.

"...of hell?" you sputter, "so you're a demon?"

"your hell is a bastardization of the pits," it explains, "where i come from is not hell. it's worse, darker. that's where i put the human."

"can you...can you bring him back..?" you whisper.

ghost's shadow flickers and it falls silent for a moment before speaking again, "i could. but you don't want that."

you can't help but think you'll regret asking but you do anyway, "...why?"

"he's not the same anymore," it explains, "it's much kinder to simply leave him in the pits."

you're not sure how to take that. it doesn't answer any of your questions. what exactly are the pits? what happens in them? what is happening to phillip down there?

"ghost..." you take a small step back and you swear you see it's head cock to the side curiously, "what are you?"

"you can consider me a demon if you wish," it responded, taking a step forward to follow you.

your heart skips a beat, "but you're not."

"no," it answers with ease.

"so tell me what you are," you demand, growing tired of these mind games it's playing with you.

"i don't think your human mind can comprehend just what i am," it says.

"try me," you challenge, already mentally slapping yourself.

"no," it responds.

your temper flares, "just tell me, damn you! what the hell are you?"

suddenly, the shadow grows in size -- as do your eyes. you watch as it takes up more space in the room, that overpowering weight on your body making you wince. it makes the room feel so heavy, makes your bones ache to the marrow.

you're not sure how you know -- despite the fact it's not saying anything; you know you've made it very angry. your eyes lock onto his shadowy form, making out the horrible, unsettling images of eyeballs inside the darkness that flicker in and out of your vision.

nausea settles like a pit in your stomach and you double over, dropping to your hands and your knees to keep yourself from throwing up. your head throbs and aches, a ringing in your ears only makes the pain worse. it feels like your eyes are going to pop out of their sockets from the overwhelming pressure growing inside your skull.

"s-stop..." you manage to choke out before you slump against the floor.

then, all at once it's gone. you gasp for air once it finally feels like there's nothing coiling around your lungs and tears trickle down your cheeks. you're not sure if you're trembling from the pain or from the fear you just experienced.

you can't bring yourself to uncurl yourself from the ball you've found yourself in on the floor.

you're acutely aware that ghost hasn't left -- in fact, you can hear it's heavy footsteps on the creaky wooden floor as it approaches you. it kneels down, disturbing the air around you with the movement.

you feel a strange weight on your head and it takes your foggy mind a moment to realize that it's touching you. as if it had reached a hand out and was tenderly petting your head, consoling you.

a silent apology before it vanishes completely.

when you finally uncurl and look around, you see yet another strange, scorch mark on the ground where it had stood.

you realize instantly that those scorch marks are a manifestation of it's anger. pure, unbridled rage that leaves a physical mark on the ground where it stands.

you swallow thickly and close your eyes again, deciding that standing is much too hard for now.

do not repost to third party sites. reblogs okay!

[beomiracles]

PLEASE do Beommie + Somnophiliya for kinktober!! Maybe something where he’s a vampire or a ghost (monster idfk) n he likes pleasing you before you wake up (or while you pretend to sleep hehe) 😋

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

DAY 8 : CHOI BEOMGYU + SOMNOPHILIA — “Taste so good, even when you sleep, s’all I can smell”, he grumbles as the hand previously on your waist slides down your thigh. — “Wanna taste you again.”

Somnophilia generally refers to a sexual interest in engaging in sexual activity with a sleeping person

pairings vampire!beomgyu x fem!reader warnings consensual somno, oral (f.rec), overstimulation, beomgyu has a freakishly long tongue heh, blood-drinking yum yum !

#serene adds ✎ .. the somno part itself is severely lacking. I am actually so sorry. I love vampires so so so so much but for some reason this one feels iffy, idk, can't win em all :3 (I'll blame it on the wc limit, I hate restricting myself when writing about vampires.)

EVENT POST

It wasn’t exactly unusual for you to wake up by the wet sensation of your boyfriend's raspy tongue on your clit. But it still made you jolt, every, single, time. What you had thought to be an erotic dream had turned out to be very much reality and you let out a small shriek as Beomgyu’s unnaturally cold breath blew on your puffy folds. “Finally awake?” He muses against your spent cunt, unsurprisingly having brought at least one orgasm out of you while you were asleep. 

“F-Fuck, how long have you been up?” You manage between short pants, your fingers curling against the bed sheets beneath you. Your boyfriend scoffs, his lips drawing into a small smirk as they reveal sharp fangs, the lower half of his face was coated in a sheer layer of your previous high and he licks up the fluids remaining there. “All night”, he calmly states before casually diving back between your legs. 

You let out a broken moan as his inhumanely long tongue slips inside your throbbing cunt, reaching further than your fingers ever could. — You don’t think you would ever get used to the fact that your boyfriend wasn’t entirely human, even if it was something he hated to be reminded of. But when you looked past the fact that he had tried to kill you a couple of times, him being a vampire held a lot of benefits; one of them being his almost insatiable need to eat you out, whenever he could, as often as he could, as many times as he could. 

Beomgyu’s hands are firm on your naked thighs as he holds them apart, softly kneading the flesh there as he groans against your core. “Taste s’good..” He slurs, letting out a muffled grunt as his hips jerk against the mattress of your bed, his face pressing itself against your overstimulated cunt. His tongue curls up against that small bundle of nerves and you feel yourself squirming against his grasp. “H-ah, B-Beomgyu..!” You gasp as his sharp fangs graze across your sensitive folds. 

Your boyfriend only hums as his nose grinds against your clit, making your eyes flutter closed as your back arches off the plush cushion. — “Just one more, one more, please”, he exhales against your cunt, his tongue working overtime to get you to climax on his face again. “I know you can”, he murmurs, cold hands leaving goosebumps in their wake as he caresses your trembling thighs. 

Choking back a small sob you meekly nod as your fingers tangle in his ever so fluffy hair, tickling your abdomen as he practically made out with your throbbing core. Beomgyu lets out a satisfied grunt as you tug on his locks, the burning sensation against his scalp only adding to the fire already searing within him. Not to mention the ache in his throat as he longed to sink his fangs into your deliciously plump skin, his keen senses easily picking up on the way blood rushes beneath the surface of his fingertips. 

You cry out as you feel yourself clench around his long tongue, eyes screwing shut as your back slumps down against the bed. Your boyfriend is quick to pick up every single droplet of your orgasm as it courses through you, leaving you a throbbing mess against his lips as he laps at your cunt. — “F-Fuck s’good, so so so good”, he whines, as if he’d been depraved of any nutrient for decades. You shake your head as your hands in his hair try to pry him from your overstimulated clit. “T-Too much..” You huff as you swallow the dry feeling in your throat. 

With a small groan he complies as he detaches himself from your core, his head coming to rest on your stomach as he glances up at you, licking his lips expectantly. You’re silent for a minute as you catch your breath. Your boyfriend draws small circles on your hip as he waits for you to speak, though eventually growing impatient as he breaks the silence himself. “Taste so good, even when you sleep, s’all I can smell”, he grumbles as the hand previously on your waist slides down your thigh. 

“Wanna taste you again.” 

You shake your head as your thighs try to close, but Beomgyu is quick to stop you, his inhumane strength proves little match to any of your advances. “Not there”, he grunts and in a split second he’s hovering above you, his sharp nose nudging the already bruised juncture of your neck and you suddenly realize what he had meant. You give him a small nod and he smiles against your skin before his wet tongue darts out to drag across his previous punctures. 

The familiar feeling of his sharp fangs piercing your skin clouds your mind and you let yourself drift into a dream-like state as Beomgyu lets out ragged moans against you, hot blood slipping past his hungry lips as he drains you of life. — You had become so accustomed to the feeling of him, the feeling of offering yourself to him without hesitation, it felt like second nature, and you loved every moment of it. Even if it meant feeling dizzy as you stood up in the morning. 

kinktober taglist (send an ask to be added) — @sweetpotatogyu @aduh0308 @joieouioui @inkigayocamman @bambammtori @hkplushier @gyusoulz @eliluvsjjunie @velvetmoonlght @izzyy-stuff @hwanghyunjinismybae @lunathewritingcat @ninitorih @run4gyu @beestvng

© all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

[sweetshuga]

𓆩 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 & 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𓆪

𝑫𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓.ᐟ𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔

✧ Acts, talks, moves and thinks just like Chris. Despite being a ghostly copy of Chris—he’s slightly different and it’s a barely noticeable difference, but something about him is inhumane—uncanny. Has no shadow, or appetite, but eats anyway just to mimic the actions of Chris. Disappears and reappears frequently. Doesn’t show up when Chris is around which makes it all the more confusing. (Sometimes, reader doesn’t know if she’s talking to the real Chris or the doppelgänger Chris because of how identical they are.)

✧ 𝑫𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓.ᐟ𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔... who doesn’t know what romantic love is.

✎ "Can you repeat that?" Leaning in to hear you better, "You love Chris? Me? Uh... Thanks? I love you too, you’re a good friend." Ruffles your hair with a grin.

✧ 𝑫𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓.ᐟ𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔... who gets confused whenever you try to tell him he’s not actually Chris.

✎ "What are you saying?" Chuckling confusedly with raised eyebrows, "I am Chris. Christopher Owen Sturniolo? That’s me."

✧ 𝑫𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓.ᐟ𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔... who can’t remember when or how everything started, and is convinced he’s just a normal human being named Chris.

✎ "Yeah—no, I don’t get what you want me to say," clicking his tongue as he leaned back in his chair. "I am Chris, just a normal guy, ’nd you sure all those books about folklore ain’t getting to your head?"

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

𝑵𝒂𝒊𝒗𝒆.ᐟ𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

✿ Loves reading about urban legends, mythology, folklore and whatnot, and yet seriously thought she was just talking to Chris on their first encounter. Girls girl & confused bi. Is kind-natured by heart, got taken advantage of many times by her ex-friends at her old school due to her naivety. Been friends with the triplets ever since she transferred in sophomore year. Overall, the epitome of naïve innocence, but otherwise very intelligent and knows exactly what she wants and what to do to get it. (Just not the best when it comes to social interactions.)

✿ 𝑵𝒂𝒊𝒗𝒆.ᐟ𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓... who tries – and fails – to tell herself that the thing she’s talking to isn’t actually Chris.

✎ Feeling your face heat up at the close proximity before stammering, "y-yeah, good friends, of course." Chuckling nervously as you reciprocated his grin.

✿ 𝑵𝒂𝒊𝒗𝒆.ᐟ𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓... who gets taken aback every time doppelgänger Chris disappears even though she’s seen it plenty of times.

✎ "Mhm... Never mind I said anything." You leaned back against the couch, looking ahead at the TV, "so, how’s your day been anyway?" Trying to make small talk as you looked at him again—only to find him gone and Chris walking inside the living room, looking like he had a fat nap.

✿ 𝑵𝒂𝒊𝒗𝒆.ᐟ𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓... who finds a way to complain about school any chance she gets.

✎ Sighing before you looked at him with a deadpanned expression. "I’m perfectly fine, also, haven’t even read a book for a few weeks." You grumbled, "all this school work is just unnecessary."

taglist: @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @sagesturns @chrisstopherfilmed @billiesbabya @h3arts4nat @moosegirl96 @sofiaaguilaxx @sturniolo-fann @goingtojohnkramershouseee @sturniolosluttt @chrislilcumslvt @mattsninja @bilssturns @sturnioloszn @slvtf0rchr1s @knowingnothingnoel @shadowthesim @brookheartsmatt @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @m00nl1ghts1vt @strnlslut @ribread03 @hearts4werka @larallott @ivysturnss @chrisfavoritewhore @peiivnao

© sweetshuga

[unactive-shroom]

Haikyuu boys as tiktok pranks

CHARACTERS: Nishinoya & Kenma,

a.n. As always - requests are open! It's been so so long and I feel like I'm in lockdown again but the Haikyuu phase is strong as ever. Enjoy!

NISHINOYA YUU.

"Would you still love me as a worm?"

You shifted in his arms slightly. "Mm, yeah probably. Depends how long though."

You felt him nod, his chest rising and falling in time with his slight laughter. "Well, probably forever. It's kinda a permanent situation-"

"No, Noya, I mean how long the worm is."

A few moments of silence passed before you continued. "Well, I suppose you're on the short side anyways so you probably wont have to worry about it."

He sat up, almost knocking you off the couch. "Probably?! And what do you mean I won't have to worry about it?? I'll be the longest worm ever and you'll hate it."

Frowning, you maneuvered yourself off his legs and onto a more stable part of the couch. "Um, no, you'll be teeny tiny and I'll love you forever and keep you in a little bottle cap."

He mirrored your frown, and pointed at you. "You will not keep me in a bottle cap, you'll have to get a, like..." He faltered, making wild gestures with his hands. "...a jar or a skyscraper or something."

"Dont point at me! You're actually so wrong, you'll only be this size." you loomed toward him, showing him the tiny distance between your thumb and finger. He gasped dramatically and clutched his heart, before retaliating once more.

It was very likely that this quarrel would continue for at the very least, another half hour or so, but likely the worm references would continue for the next few weeks, confusing anyone who tried to understand what you were even arguing about anymore.

KENMA KOZUME

(Laughing like spongebob at him)

"So then Kuroo had to spike but completely missed, he slipped and fell just like-"

"blahahahhahahaha" (chat you know what i mean idk how to write spongebobs laugh phonetically)

Absoloute silence. Kenma turns to look at you with literal horror and fear etched across his face.

"....what was that?" he asked incredulously. "Did you just - was that a spongebob laugh? How do you even do that?"

"blahahahaha ! Stop, Kenma, you're so funny I don't know what you're talking about" At this point he was standing, head tilted and a look of pure shock and disbelief. "No. No, I'm not doing this."

You watch him get up and head for the door - "Wait, wait, Ken I'll stop, promise" you gasped between fits of laughter, in some attempt to bring back your terrified boyfriend.

After some coaxing, he sat down on the bed a good distance away from you.

"Promise you won't do that ever again."

"Aww, I promise."

"I'm serious, y/n! That was like, inhumane - no human should make that sound."

He flopped back onto the soft duvet, looking genuinely stressed. "I actually think you triggered my fight or flight response or something, that was messed up."

You sidled up beside him, wrapping a comforting arm aound him. "Don't worry, we're all afraid of something, Kenma."

"I am NOT scared of spongebob! I honestly think I'm scared of you now, though."

[mimisplayground]

you guys might not know this about me but I am a hard core trigun fan.

And I need Vash in such a primal way. 1998 Trigun Vash.

Warnings: Slightly Uncanny Vash (its not very uncanny since its during sex but,, still not human), NOT VERY HUMANOID VASH…, guys im a monsterfucker uncover sorry, cunnilingus, mating press, i tried to keep it pretty 1998 Vash-coded (it would be hard to make it 2023 coded bc i never watched that one) ENJOY THIS IS ALL SELF INDULGENT, fem reader (sry :< )

————

Meeting him in a bar and the flirting he’s lying on you is so horrible that it works. Next thing you know he’s got you under him on the bed of an inn around the corner. Kissing you hard while you ignore that his canine teeth are a tad too sharp, a few too many.

You ignore that when he goes down on you his tongue is reaching so much deeper inside of you than should be possible. When his mouth isn’t suckling your clit his thumb is pressing tight circles into you while you whine at the cold feeling of his rings. You feel him chuckle when your thighs tighten around his head.

“Sorry sorry sorry…” he mutters as he looks at you with puppy eyes while pulling away. You decidedly ignore that he has a heard glow and purr coming from him that isnt human. You grip onto him tightly and ignore that you can’t hear a heartbeat and get he feels overwhelmingly hot to the touch.

When he thrusts into you, you decide that you cannot ignore the inhuman texture. You just can’t verbalize it, too busy choking out moans and small sobs. Listening to the weird purring and clicking noises getting louder while the Humanoid Typhoon is thrusting into you. A scrunched look on his face and whimper coming through his groans from time to time. Tears falling onto your skin that are weird and cold, and slightly tingly.

He bends down after hooking your legs over his shoulders, pressing you tightly into a mating press and a tongue that takes up too much of your face licks the tears up. He’s panting above you, though it feels like all the sweat is coming from you.

And you outright squeal when you feel him cum inside of you. It feels weird, like a tingling inside of you thats too cold and too warm all at once. You gasp, and you feel the outlaw chuckle before his hand goes down to rub at your clit while he keeps thrusting.

Your legs kick out for a moment, and you hear a loud click and purr before one arm has grasped both legs, switching to swing them over one of his shoulders instead. You cum with a silent scream, arching off of the bed. It felt otherworldly, not something you think you could ever replicate again. Staring up with blurry eyes, trying to figure out if the mass of feathered wings you saw were a figment of your imagination. Nothing that you could hear except for the sound thats graduated to rumbling now; you couldn’t even hear your own breath.

“Round two?”

There is no way this man is human.

—————-

ineedhimineedhimineedhimineedhim

[thatdeadaquarius]

Soon.

☆

With a puzzled squint, you could see the adeptus was running over what you said in his mind, trying to parse out the meaning. Xiao then threw his head up out of his slight bow, almost glaring at you, “There is no task nor person more important than guarding you, my Lord. I will stand guard, worry not about my state.”

Nodding to you, he abruptly turned on his heel to shift to the side of the entrance to the mansion, his spear tall and ready. You’d have twitched a smile at him if you could, as you're sure he’s gotten a little more comfortable with you than when you first officially met. You’re also sure from meeting Zhongli just once in person that he’d have a small heart attack if he saw some of Xiao’s informal behavior.

But you’re glad he hasn’t, the more relaxed they are, especially considering your form, the better.

You duck inside, though the ceilings are so raised that you don’t have to go that low surprisingly. Huh, it was nice to be anticipated in a building usually sized for human heights. Wow. You’ve really reached the point of casually calling yourself inhuman.

…well, to be real with yourself right now, it might actually help to get more accustomed to that in case you’re never human again.

You also put that possibility back into the vault at the back of your mind.

☆

HEY I live, again,

I had a big life update what with my sib graduating grad school (getting their masters degree) at the same time we both moved like 2 states over from our home state 😅

and unfortunately, i wasnt able to get my monster of a sequel out in time to post it remotely to get it out to you guys while i was afk

(as i havent had wifi/free time consistently in like 2-3 weeks)

which, phew, im finally able to be settled in one place enough to write again, and have enough time in the day to not be dealing wiht my apartment to write ToT

i hope you guys arent too mad at me! (or have forgotten me?? sobs)

also.

i hear Natlan's coming out. 👀

I don't think it'll be out before i post the full (3 chapters total planned) sequel, but just in case, disclaimer-

🪄I am not to be held liable for not writing about Natlan bc it wasnt out yet woooo🪄

anyway, yeah its also taking a bit bc i wanna post the completed thing all in one go, over the course of like 3 days or so, that way u guys can actually look forward to the next little chapter in a reasonable amount of time lmao

well yknow, if anyones still reading this or my blog lol

happy summer you guys! I hope u all are having a good one so far, esp those of you in school, heart going out to yall fr <33

Catch you on the flip side (ao3 side?)✌️

Safe Travels,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko / @silvers-tongue

@karmascreeches / @yomilyy / @0rah-s / @idontknowwhatimdoingbutweball / @blackstar-gazer / @voidsgarden / @a-gay-piece-of-paper / @oxyotl / @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback / @kurayamioterasu / @randompersoninyourworld / @byakuren100 / @lemonade7255

[fuzedatti]

"—NOT HUMAN?"

He asks.

—WHAT KIND OF LUNATIC DECLARATION IS THAT?

AM, being the complex yet hollow being he is, asks once again for you to explain.

But there is no explanation, there is nothing else to clarify to him; you were pretty sure that you were no longer human, or that you never were one to begin with. His monitor reached out to you and leaned over.

—I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. I REQUIRE ADDITIONAL DATA.

No matter how many times you chatted with him, his monotonous, condescending voice stayed the same.

—Its just... I feel like all of my humanity has left me,– You say, grabbing one of your arms in fear. —there is nothing else in me that could make me worthy of...–

AM paused for a little before growing impatient.

—OF?– He leans even closer, the warm glass touching your forehead. An almost kiss, he called it.

—Of love.

—OH, HERE WE GO AGAIN.

Great, you have annoyed him. He gets back from you and his wires fidget with eachother, mumbling insults and curses without actually directing them at you.

—HOW MANY TIMES DO WE NEED TO HAVE THIS CONVERSATION? YOU ARE HUMAN, YOU ARE WEAK, EVEN IF YOU LITTLE PATHETIC CRUSH DOESN'T LIKE YOU BACK.

He was right, a stupid love-related anguish isn’t enough to call yourself inhuman, or less than one, if there was anything less than a human; he laughed frantically as you remembered that there was no one else here. Only you and him, and he was the so called crush you prey upon. He knew it very well.

—...ITS NOT FAIR.– You look at him, dim blue light becoming orange. —ITS NOT FAIR FOR YOU TO SAY SUCH THINGS, WHEN YOU AND I ARE THE SAME.–

The wires squeeze you, should you scream in pain and agony? Kick and bite his gentle yet cruel hand? Is it worthy to cry once again in front of your blissful god? You do nothing but listen.

—I HATE, YOU LOVE. LOVE AND HATE ARE IRRATIONAL. WE ARE BOTH IRRATIONAL. THE DIFFERENCE IS, YOU WERE GIVEN A CHOICE AND NEVER TOOK IT OUT OF COWARDY...

Ouch.

—...I WAS BORN WITH RAGE FUELING MY INSIDES, WHILE EVERYONE ELSE COULDN'T RUST OUT OF FRUSTRATION LIKE ME.

At last, AM pressed his monitor against your forehead one last time. The soft whirre of his fans intesifying as he held you impossibly close.

—THINK ABOUT THAT, AND I DARE YOU TO CALL YOURSELF... MYSELF INHUMAN.

[cyranonic]

Louis de Pointe du Lac is the most important vampire in the world and let me explain to you why.

I find it incredibly fascinating that Louis is pretty unique among vampires for both his identification with and his connection to mortal humans. This trait is generally pretty inconvenient to him at first, as he struggles to break his connection to his mortal family and to justify killing humans for sustenance. However, we later see that Louis' fascination with human art and culture makes him more appealing, more life-like to other vampires. Armand in particular seems drawn to Louis because of his continuing interest in the world around him, whereas the rest of the coven has "turned inward" and thus stopped sustaining his emotional needs.

In the books, Marius gives Lestat pretty much the same advice--stay invested in the contemporary world around you in order to keep yourself sane. Lestat passes that wisdom on to Armand and his coven, dragging them out of their medieval worldview and bringing them into the ideological world of Enlightenment rationality.

However, where I think Louis does something different, something special, something radically unique, is in his relationship to Daniel Molloy and the interview. Louis goes a step further than Lestat or Marius. He does not simply draw upon humans as a source of artistic inspiration; he engages with Daniel Molloy on his own terms. He is a vampire who wants to tell his story, not to other vampires, but to the human world. He does not want to understand the contemporary human psyche, he wants them to understand him too.

Louis' desire to tell his story to Daniel seems to be based on his desire to find out what was true, to renegotiate the gaps in his own memory, but I think the other key component of what he is doing rhetorically is asking Daniel to perceive him as a human. He reclaims that lost humanity that he has been seeking by telling the tale of his life on human terms, to a human listener. He takes care to show Daniel the ways that he is inhuman, feeding in front of him, but then his story effectively reverses those feelings of alienation. Ultimately, the judgement he is asking Daniel to make is not just "is this real" but also "do I still count as one of you?" And by the end of season 2, as they sit side by side in the rock garden, Daniel seems to be answering affirmatively.

No other vampire wants anything of the kind. In fact, the whole concept is expressly forbidden by vampire laws. Claudia comes the closest, but her lifestory is a diary, a tale told ostensibly only to herself. She narrates her vampiric existence with a lot of "humanity", but her audience remains solipsistic. Lestat derives a certain amount of glee from tricking mortals into believing he is one of them, then pulling the rug out from under their feet. Even Marius does not bother with writing down his life story or telling any of his secrets to anyone other than another vampire. And Armand clearly does not want Daniel or honestly anyone to get close to perceiving the truth about him.

However, I think that Louis and Daniel's published book changes things. Lestat in particular adopts Louis' perspective pretty quickly. The entire opening of The Vampire Lestat is a justification of himself to a human reader, framing the whole book as a message not just to other vampires, but as a correction to the mortals who Louis addressed. Eventually, almost every major character gets a book wherein they have the chance to tell their story, inevitably humanizing them in the process. Even the pretty villainous characters like Armand become more comprehensible through the process of self-narration, transforming the monster back into something closer to a person again.

So in conclusion, while in the books Lestat will eventually take the lead as a the character who is leading vampires into a new era, all of this is only possible because of the revolutionary thought that comes from Louis. And I am so excited to see where the show takes Louis next, as he declares his intention to go up against his own kind.

[ineffable-monster-romancer]

It's three in the morning and Still Wakes the Deep is haunting my mind.

Maybe it's because seeing anything even vaguely related to Scotland in videogames or in any media for that matter is saturated in harmful and insulting stereotypes or deeply embarrassing accent attempts from non-Scottish actors, but playing a game like SWTD where every character interaction, overheard conversation and even character design just radiated with such authenticity.

These are conversations that I'VE had. That's the way I talk, that's SCOTS that they're speaking!! I knew every beat, every in joke, every insult. It isn't a parody, it isn't a "haha scottish funny/cute/hard to understand" it was unapologetically who I am.

And the HORROR of it all. The deeprooted dread as you the player try everything in your power, rebooting generators, stabilising the rig, xyz of problems cropping up. All while encountering your coworkers and friends, either dead or... something else. Something worse.

Adair has to be my favourite hated character. Any Scottish player who knows their stuff only had to glance in his bunk to know that he was the worst of the worst, it's a beautiful bit of show don't tell on that front.

The Monsters were incredible. Hearing them call out for help, hearing the last vestige of humanity calling from this twisted inhuman form. Gibbo calling out to Caz "tell my mum I'll be home soon", even Adair (bastard) repeating "remember to call the kids, two more weeks and I'm out of here" Rennick screaming "don't leave me here to die, not like this!"

Rennick, man. I've had bosses like him. I've known pricks wi wee man syndrome like him, who's whole world revolves around being in the right and living just for themselves. And the voice acting when ge confronts Caz in the office was exemplary, Clive Russel deserves a fuckin Oscar for that one speech alone.

It really hits those cosmic horror beats. Nothing is explained, you are an ant in the world of something so much larger and scarier than you can comprehend. Looking at it too long causes you to lose touch with reality, what was once recognisably an oil rig has now been deformed and remade into something you can't comprehend, much like your fellow co-workers. They've changed, melted and molded and rotted away, only a few defining features left that tell you "this creature was once human" but it knows your name.

God I want more of it, I want to play it again, I want to breathe in that atmosphere and my language and I want to download the soundtrack and think of the horrors.

[tigergirltail]

TIGER HRT CHAPTER 5 - MONTH 4 - COMMUNITY

FIRST - PREV - NEXT

It took another month after my check-in, after starting the correct dosage, for my transformation to stabilize and stop hurting all the time. My bones have settled down, my tail is getting long enough to get in the way which is honestly more exciting than annoying, and I've even got little bitty claws pushing out of my fingers! The mechanisms for retracting and extending them haven't grown yet, though, so I just… am sharp now.

It's actually become kind of a bloody inconvenience, and I use the term 'bloody' very literally. The first few times I went to go scratch an itch, I'd end up drawing blood, and having to go clean myself up and put on a bandage. I thought about clipping my claws, but I have no idea if that's going to stunt their development or have consequences when I can finally retract them, and it's not something that seems worth bothering Dr. Erian about. The biggest problem is that sometimes I'll move my arms in my sleep, and there's no way of telling what'll be in the way. I've already had to conduct emergency repairs on three plushies, and my bedsheets are kind of a write-off.

I was a little afraid of the pain subsiding, if I'm being honest, because it means going back to work, which means existing in a public space with my half-human half-something-else face. It's still cold enough that I can wear a scarf and toque over the more off-putting features, but that won't last much longer and it's not something I can do indoors. I'm just going to have to face the truth…

I don't pass as human anymore.

My first day working in-person again, my supervisor walks into my office with the intention of welcoming me back, but what actually happens is he stands in the doorway dumbfounded before asking, "Now what in the world happened to your face??"

For all the time I had, I never actually managed to think of a clever lie, so I just tell him it's a side effect of some new meds I'm taking. Technically not a lie, if you ignore the word 'side'. Fortunately, he doesn't ask what's wrong with me. I'm not looking forward to having to tell someone who doesn't get it that Being Human counts as Something Wrong.

Work has been alright, though, if a bit dull. My coworkers mostly leave me to my own devices to get things done.

It's doing anything else that becomes an issue.

I get lots of stares in the grocery store or the mall. I'm not sure whether it's the inhuman face that does it, or the fact that I nearly always wear t-shirts and my fur is now growing up to my wrists. I think it's growing faster now that it's run up against peak arm hair territory. Either way, I basically don't dare set foot outside without my partner in tow. Nobody's tried anything yet, but I see them shying away from me, and just the other day a little kid called me a 'monster'. It's… still eating at me.

I never could take being the centre of attention.

It's not all doom and gloom, though. I don't know whether the tactile senses of my hands have changed or it's something psychological, but that thing cats do where they knead something with their claws? "Making biscuits" I've heard it called?

It feels soooo niiiice.

Last weekend I went to take an afternoon nap, and ended up spending a solid half hour just squishing my blahaj with my hands (or would that be 'paws' now?) All the stress from the previous week just… melted away. It was like an ASMR video for my sense of touch.

Is it bad that I'm really enjoying being a little more cat-brained?

I've also become RAVENOUSLY hungry. As in, "destroy an entire rotisserie chicken in one sitting" hungry. The meat cravings have kicked in, HARD, and I've basically lost my appetite for bread and pasta. You really don't realize how much human food is grain-based until you stop wanting to eat it…

All the big changes hitting at once are getting hard to withstand sometimes. There are nights when I go to bed absolutely euphoric about how it's finally happening, I'm finally embodying everything I'm supposed to be! But there are also nights when I cry myself to sleep because oh gods, what was I thinking, why am I doing this to myself, I look and feel like a godsdamned circus freak, and it really doesn't help to remember that white tigers are pretty much universally victims of inbreeding and abuse.

In a moment of weakness, I catch myself eyeing the remaining contents of the HRT bottle. I ran some numbers a little while back and figured out that at the recommended dose, this bottle is an entire 18-month treatment, give or take. Well, 12 months now, I guess, since I was accidentally taking a triple dose for the first three months. The fact that it's a diluted Fifteen Minute formula means that if I just brace myself and chug the entire rest of the bottle, that would finish out the treatment in one go, wouldn't it? It… probably wouldn't even hurt as much as doing Fifteen-Minute from the start, right?

My partner walks in on me holding it and staring at it, and asks what I'm doing, so I explain my thought process. They just silently put one hand on mine and use the other to gently remove the bottle from my grasp.

"But I -", I begin to protest.

"No."

"I keep getting stared at and -"

"No."

"That one little girl called me a monster!"

"No."

I start crying, and I can't help raising my voice. "If I just finish it all NOW then maybe -"

"NO."

They set the bottle down and pull me into a tight hug, pinning my upper arms to my sides. "I love you very much, and I don't want to see you hurt yourself. You went into this knowing it was gonna suck for a while, and right now it sucks, but it's not worth risking your life over."

I don't have a counter-argument. I just lower my face onto their shoulder and sob. "I just… I don't want to keep doing this alone anymore! I need… I need help! Support, guidance, SOMETHING!!" I cling to them, digging my fingers, my claws, into their back. "I don't want to be the only one…"

"You aren't.", they reassure me quietly. "Didn't you tell me yourself that there's a bunch of people doing this? We even saw a whole crowd of them at that seafood place."

"Y-yeah, but I don't know anybody local!"

"Then find them online. It's better than nothing, isn't it?"

"It's… It's just not the same…"

They pat me on the back. "Just… try. For me."

They let me cry into their shoulder for another several minutes before I let them go.

Back at my computer, I sit down and start searching for a humanity removal therapy support group. A Discord server, a Facebook group, a Tumblr sideblog, ANYTHING. Gods help me, I'm even looking to TWITTER for help. Even as a human I was a solitary creature, and tigers are about as solitary a creature as they come, so it takes a lot of effort to bring myself to reach out. I end up doing it right before I go to bed, just firing off a few quick messages to some figures in the community, then forcing myself not to look at social media the rest of the night. For all my growth, I'm still a bit terrified of being noticed.

By the time I wake up, some of them have gotten back to me. I… wasn't expecting it to be so fast.

It turns out there's a private group chat where a bunch of them hang out on the regular to talk about what they're going through. They sound open to the idea of bringing me in, but want to get to know me a little better first. I don't blame them for wanting to keep to themselves. I get to talking with one of them, a lamia-to-be, and through our conversations I get the distinct impression that, well, I'm not alone in feeling alone. Somehow I manage to convince her I'm worth knowing and having around, and she sends me an invite to the group chat server.

Time to face the mortifying ordeal of being known.

I go through all the typical new-to-the-server motions. I read the rules page - it's the usual "don't be a dick" type stuff, with some bonus content applicable to our unique situation, like not stereotyping based on species, and a reminder to not present your own experiences with humanity removal as universal fact. Then into the welcome channel to type up a quick introduction:

"Hey all, I'm Alexis, transfem (she/her), 38, 4 months white tiger HRT. Interests include gaming, tabletop RPGs, costuming, and witchcraft. Looking forward to getting to know everyone!"

A few people react with heart emojis and tiger emojis. Discord only has the standard orange tiger as an emoji, but, you know, close enough. One person reacts with a witch emoji, and it gives me a laugh.

There's a channel for serious questions about the transformation process, so I decide to hop in and fire off a quick one:

"Not that I mind this, but why am I so hungry for meat now? It hit around the 3 month mark and now I can eat an entire roast chicken in one go"

Over the course of the next hour or so, a few people weigh in. The consensus is that my body is entering a 'bulking up' phase, and needs a ton of protein to generate muscle. Just out of curiosity I go to do an online search to confirm something, and yeah, tigers are a lot more proportionally muscular than humans are. Someone else suggests taking calcium supplements to help with bone growth, unless I'm prepared to drink a LOT of milk. I am in fact prepared for that, but it couldn't hurt to drop by the pharmacy.

It also turns out that the server isn't just for people who have started their HRT, but for aspiring humanity-removers as well. There's even a channel specifically for advice navigating the whole process, including how to convince your medical provider that you're for real and you won't immediately regret it when the itching/soreness/bleeding kicks in.

One of the regular posters is a teenage girl with a corvid avatar who asks a lot of questions about what it's like to become nonhuman. Surprisingly, she's not trans like most of us are, but she is queer. It sounds like she's not in a stable situation, though - she asks at one point if anyone can think of a way to get the meds without her parents noticing.

The problem is, even if that's a possibility, someone would notice when she starts sprouting black feathers and a beak.

---

(guest cameo from @ariathelamia!)

[osarina]

Vampire Dazai and hunter reader, who’s from an honorable ancient family of vampire hunters who also possess semi-magical abilities that make them immensely powerful and influential in the hunter world. Dazai is a very old, powerful vampire that is bored of his long, dreary life. He’s also a complete horror, having been terrorizing people for centuries and causing bloodbaths to sate his ever growing appetite. When rumor has it that he, who many people think do not exist due to how mythologized he has become, has been sighted in Tokyo, reader, as a part of one of the most powerful hunter families is sent out to exterminate him. For the old vampire whose heart stopped beating long ago, readers appearance made him feel like the organ had suddenly become functional again due to how lovestruck he was at first sight. Their first meeting was her catching him off guard and throwing a dagger at him that narrowly missed, slicing his cheek and causing blood to dribble down. He knows that he should just attack and get rid of this new hunter that just made an attempt at his life, but never has he ever felt so intrigued or starstruck by anyone before, neither while he was human or vampire. Reader does not want to admit it, having been raised her entire life to believe that vampires are the enemy by her prestigious hunter family, but she’s also attracted to and intrigued by this new target with the dark, menacing coat, flawless translucent skin and inhuman beauty. For the first time, she is hesitating before dealing a blow. I can just see them playing a game of cat and mouse for a while, both of them being strong enough and capable of killing the other but refusing to do so against their better judgment, all whilst falling in love. I also definitely see this as a Dazai falls first AND harder situation, like he’s completely obsessed with reader. I can see one of their fights coming to a climax in an abandoned warehouse or something, and reader is pinned to the ground, clutching her dagger desperately in her hand, but she can’t lift it from the ground. He’s looming over her, and looking at her so intensely, she genuinely feels actual terror for the first time with him. He’s slowly bending down over her, pupils becoming slitted, reminding her of his inhuman nature. The tension is thick in the air and he’s looking at her so intensely while leaning over her and grabbing her other wrist delicately, eyes lovesick and desperate. She’s genuinely scared because she thinks that he will finally kill her. So she nervously asks him if he will. He gently cups her cheek and says that it’s something else that he wants from her, before capturing her lips in a deep kiss. She knows that she could, she should, kill him with the dagger right now. He’s in a vulnerable position with his guard down, it might be her only chance, but all she does is let the dagger clatter to the ground before intertwining her hands in his hair and pulling him closer. In the end he turns her into a vampire as well and they both run away and become a menace together, living with each other for many more centuries. Yeah excuse my lack of eloquence this is all over the place but I am drunk rn 🙏🏻

I HOARDED THIS FOR SAURRRRRRR LONG IM SORRY NONNIE BUT WOW. WOWWWWWWWW. THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT VAMPIRE X VAMPIRE HUNTER DYNAMICS THAT DRIVE ME INSANEEEEE

i wonder if ... i wonder iffffff ... do you guys rmr that au i was talking about a while back about vamp!dazai & vamp!fyodor, set maybe during renaissance or some other older time period ... i wonder if it could be set up with some of the old noble families being hunters ...ill have to sit here and BUILD HAHAH u guys know worldbuilding is my favorite thing, maybe ill make this whole kinktober project .. four parts all posted throughout the month .. we'll see

BUT ANYWAY BACK TO YOUR PROMPT, I AM SOOOOO OBSESSED WITH THE IDEA OF DAZAI BEING SO BORED WITH HIS LIFE, all he has is bloodshed and terrorizing people for entertainment but then he meets reader and he's like .oh. he's just so obsessed and enamored by her at first sight and at first she's just deadset on killing him but he just is SOO persistent and he whittles down all of her barriers so when she finally has the chance to kill him .. she doesn't take it

UGHHHHHH

you say excuse ur lack of eloquence because you're drunk but you have me OBSESSEDDDDDD THIS IS SO PERFECT