#life model!Poe

[starlightwritcr]

I can fix him, literally. (Android au!Sukuna)

(@poe-daydreams this is for you <3)

warning/s: Minors DNI, Smut, exhibitionism but not really? idk how to describe it, light degradation, use of "whore", Sukuna's two dicks

Imagine android!Sukuna used to be a popular fighter in an underground fighting ring. Key word: used to be. He went up against Jujutsu Technology's newest Gojo model, S4T0RU (or Satoru, as most fans call him), but suffered a humiliating defeat at his hands. This caused heavy damages on Sukuna which led to his owner throwing him out to the trash. After all, why keep the old model around when the latest model was far superior?

But you didn't believe in such. You were surprised to find a Sukuna model in the trash at the back of a dingy building. Who in their right mind would throw away a million dollar android in this economy?! You took the android in, seeing as how the previous clearly didn't want him.

It was a challenge to repair the Sukuna model but as someone who used to work for Jujutsu Technology, you were able to do it. His mind chip seemed to be working fine. It was just the external parts that suffered heavy damage, which should be easy enough to replace. All it took was ordering spare parts online and giving it a new coat of paint to match his original model's tattoos to make him look good as new!

When android!Sukuna's systems started operating again, he woke up from sleep mode and saw you. You explained that you fixed him up after finding him in the trash. There were still some tests to run, just to see if there would be any possible bug fixes needed.

In true Sukuna fashion, he wasn't very cooperative at first. This wasn't your first rodeo though and managed to convince him to do it so that it could be over with. It didn't come as a surprise to you that a fighter android would be aggressive. Plus, the Sukuna line was designed with that personality to elicit reactions from audiences when he trash talked his opponents. It was pretty much just how he was designed.

While running the tests on Sukuna, you decided to check his memory file to see what happened before he was thrown out. You saw how badly he got beaten by the S4T0RU model.

Perhaps it was a strange thing to do, but you empathised with the android. Getting abandoned and replaced would be painful for any regular human after all. Even if Sukuna was an android, it wasn't uncommon for androids to develop a capacity for human emotions. This tended to be the case for fast-learning androids.

So, you kept him around. Sukuna wasn't too pleased about it but it wasn't like he had anywhere else to go. He was rough and brash at first, blowing a hole into your finances with how much fuel he needed to consume. He calls you soft for treating him like he's human.

But despite the difficulties, despite the insults, you couldn't bring yourself to abandon him. You'd be no better than the person that replaced him so easily. You taught him how to navigate human life, dealing with human emotions, all the essentials needed. Soon enough, you noticed a change in his behaviors. Sukuna hovered around you, never leaving your side. It was almost like he was attached to your hip.

In a way, Sukuna did what he was created to do. He became a bodyguard of sorts, protecting you from creepy dudes whenever you went out. His trash talking feature especially came in handy during gossip sessions where you just had to vent about a rude coworker.

android!Sukuna found a new purpose in you. It was odd going from being a fighter android basking in cheers from the audience to being a companion android protecting his owner like a guard dog. But perhaps this life was more meaningful than his previous one. He'll never admit that though. It's only through his actions that you understand how he felt.

Feeling your touch on his synthetic skin felt even more exhilarating than all the cheers from the audience he's received in his fighting career. Sukuna cursed at himself, realising that he's become whipped for you. He was lucky that it was you, the person who's never abandoned him.

Sometimes android!Sukuna can be pretty possessive. You worked with repairing other androids so deep down, there was a fear that you'd find another android you liked more and replaced him with it. Even if he knew you wouldn't, there was a lingering fear that was deeply rooted ever since he was abandoned.

The height of Sukuna's possessiveness came to its peak when you brought home a sex android from the S4T0RU line. Its previous owners had a really good time with it and accidentally damaged it. You were baffled by this, seeing as how Jujutsu Technology usually equipped its Gojo models with tough materials. They must've went really wild with it.

While repairing it, Sukuna pulled you close. He glared at the S4T0RU model that was in sleep mode. You gasped as his fingers slipped into your clothes, going up your thighs.

Your cries of pleasure echoed against the walls as Sukuna fucked you in front of the android. His hands held you tightly, keeping you in place while he drove his synthetic cocks into you.

"When did you get two dicks?!" "Shut up and take them, whore."

You felt your brain turning to mush while he rearranged your insides with his thick cocks. Sukuna smirked in satisfaction when he knew your attention was completely on him and not that android on your work desk.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Pickman's Model

HP Lovecraft: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the story of the pickman's model Lovecraft: what if there was a painting so scary Lovecraft: like it was so scary Lovecraft: like SO scary

Lovecraft: so there's this painting that's SO scary you can't look at it Barker: what happens if you look at it Barker: do you go insane Lovecraft: Lovecraft: yeah you go insane Barker: damn howard really going outside your wheelhouse tonight Poe: clive don't start

Lovecraft: so this painting is so scary that you can't even look at it King: wow! imagine if there was a painting like that! Stephen Gammell:

Garrett Cook: a scary painting huh? i got a twist on that Cook: what if a picture was scary Cook: because it was drawn with haunted chalk? Lovecraft: Cook: just think about it for a minute

Lovecraft: oh yeah that's good Cook: like, chalk cursed by the soul of a debauched libertine Lovecraft: oh no i don't like that Barker: wait wait i want to hear more about that Lovecraft: but clive Barker: shut up howard Barker: adults are talking

Lovecraft: no guys you don't understand Lovecraft: the reason that the painting is so scary Lovecraft: is it's a painting of, like, a scary dog Dean Koontz: i wouldn't be scared of a dog Lovecraft: oh you'd be scared of this dog, dean Lovecraft: it's real scary

Lovecraft: but the scariest thing about this scary dog Lovecraft: is Lovecraft: wait for it Lovecraft: the scary dog is real Koontz: what! Lovecraft: it turns out pickman drew it from life! Lovecraft: from his model! Lovecraft: pickman's model!

Koontz: gosh howard Koontz: i think that's just great! Koontz: seeing a picture of a dog is great Koontz: but then finding out that the dog is real and you can go see the real dog Koontz: that's even better!

Lovecraft: dean you don't understand!   Lovecraft: the dog is evil! Koontz: i don't believe that   Koontz: there are no bad dogs

[starberry-cupcake]

I shouldn't be making another one of these because I didn't even give you enough time to catch up and I'm sure you're tired of me (I'm probably losing mutuals over the length of these) BUT I FINISHED ACT II and I think this is the right place for an update recap. I'm so sorry.

previously, in harrowlana the ninth (reference I might explain one day):

this happened

currently, chapters 20 - 22 (END OF ACT II!!!):

we start with a killer epitaph from harrow for her own grave that I absolutely 10000% need in a tshirt yesterday

"Here lies the world's most insufferable witch"

alleged gideon the first, here known as ortus the first (but I am so sure about this one) has tried to kill harrowbeanie 14 times

I honestly don't know how harrow is going through this without outright telling emperor johnny man to go and insert this entire planetary situation right in the center of his bolthole

we're over here working overtime for you and your sorry ass of a plan that is probably terrible for everyone who isn't you

and we have to put up with zombies (we'll get there), the terrible attitude of your remaining lyctors, very questionable food, very questionable decor, very questionable non goth fashions, and also a man who tries to kill harrow at every turn

this is the worst

at least in canaan house we had gideon's humor and camilla's perfection

ANYWAY

emperor john tells alleged gideon the first (if I'm wrong about this, these are going to be embarrassing looking back on) "she's your responsibility, not your punching bag" to which alleged gideon the first answers "I find the responsibility a hard one"

I'm not sure if this is alluding to baby lyctors in general or harrow in particular, or if anything related to the gideon-involvement narrative I'm imagining has anything to do with it

emperor johnny boy tells harrowbean that this guy's problem is that he made a pact with an "authority he has no power to gainsay" to protect emperor johnny john and that alleged gideon the first thinks harrow is a danger to the emperor

I SURE HOPE SO

I SURE HOPE HARROW KILLS THIS MAN

I HOPE ALLEGED GIDEON THE FIRST IS RIGHT

harrow then mentions how she's "lyctor lite" and emperor john of nottingham says he doesn't think harrow fucked up the lyctor thing

he says only one person fucked it up and it was nasty

it was the ninth lyctor, Anastasia (and a song someone sings, once upon a december)

the vacant room harrowbean has taken residence in was meant for her, but she never made it there

she asked emperor john the asshat to kill her and he said no because he's that kind of a person

"she had much more to give"

I hate this guy

he also says "I had a body and I needed a tomb"

harrow asks the question everyone is asking themselves

aside from where tf are gideon and camilla

"God, who did you bury?"

he gets all vague and cryptic so he can avoid taking about what the fuck he's doing

and he quotes Annabel Lee

edgar allan poe's Annabel Lee

this is a bit more in my wheelhouse than shakespeare

to which harrow notes "Who was A.L.?"

now, I have SEVERAL THINGS TO SAY

first, and most importantly, I HAVE BEEN SAYING THIS

THAT ICE CUBE BARBIE MIGHT BE A.L.

I HAVE BEEN SAYING THIS, FAM

here's more magic knight rayearth art of the vibes I get from them to celebrate

second of all, Annabel Lee

I do have Annabel Lee in one of my EAP books, but not the one with the pretty Lacombe illustrations

so here are some Ligeia illustrations from it that have the vibe we're going for, as a treat

now, not to be all ortus over here, but I'm gonna be reciting some poetry

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride, In her sepulchre there by the sea— In her tomb by the sounding sea.

gonna put that in the 3d model

in the middle of it, like a centerpiece

let's bring back the barbie

this man is doing the whole wife/madwoman in the attic gothic trope but instead of an attic it's a tomb in pluto

another madwoman archetype to add to the list, we've got a whole collection

CHAPTER 21

we have summoned ortus by reciting poetry, because we're back in the gideon-less version of canaan house

so, the sixth is dead in this version

the sleeper or random rifle carrying person shot them in the face a bunch of times

what I wanted to do to not!dulcinea

harrow mentions not having seen camilla or palmolive much in this gideon-less version

devastating for her not to have met camilla

so then protozoa and dulcinea come in

notice I didn't say not!dulcinea

that's because this is the real deal dulcinea and the alive non zombified protozoa

we can know this by their descriptions (especially the hair), the fact that dulcinea knows who tf palmolive is, that she has a breathing tube that palmolive designed for her (this guy istg), that she can identify them and calls them "cam" and "pal"

I was so caught up on this book I forgot to read the short story that came before it btw

anyway, we also know this because protozoa speaks, but we'll get to that

before that, ortus calls the sleeper "the waker" and it's giving me the vibes of the citadel deck

wait, I'm gonna take a pic of some of the cards that give me the correct tlt vibes, so you know what the hecko I'm talking about

(I'm going on unplanned tangents but maybe someone appreciates them)

(we've moved from 3d models to me fetching books and decks from my shelves, what has palmolive done to me)

so, as previously established, protozoa speaks, which is how we know he might be the real one and not the zombie version

he then proceeds to recite poetry

ortus is feral about this

I thought initially that they were gonna have to make room for protozoa in the polycule ortus is in with the fifth, but he doesn't like protozoa coming for his gig

abby says "we're all in this together" which reminds me I did make a high school musical connection with magnus before, so it's funny that it turned out that way

abby asks real dulcinea, aka "dulcie" to her, to bring in mayonnaise uncle because he'll listen to her

why is everyone always into her in all the aus, idk

this one is less bad than not!dulcinea though, but the bar for that was on the subsoil

magnus (who is very much in love with his wife and he's pointing it out every chance he gets) is in charge of looking for martita

harrow is in charge of regina george twin (and yandere twin)

abby thinks regina george twin is the most relevant one

apparently also they're flooded with the rain

which was me last week, so I feel you fam

and we get our traidtional quote, this time by real dulcinea

"Is this really how it happens, Lady Pent?" "No. It's not" "Does it get—better than this? Do you know?"

real dulcinea is saying goodbye to palmolive and the love of my life, who I refuse to accept is in any way harmed in any timeline

and harrow "felt something in her core, though she did not know precisely what it was"

palmolive had a filmsy and we love flimsies because they have what I have started to call "harrow texts"

or "texts which can only be read by harrow"

OP is still ranting, a continuation of the egg rant

I'm gonna transcribe all of it and bold the new part, for my own access, even though everyone who has me in their dash will hate me and block me

The eggs you gave me all died and you lied to me so I did the implantation myself you self-serving zombie and you still sent him after me and I would have had him if I hadn't been compromised and he took pity on me! he took pity on me! he saw me and he took pity on me. And for that I'll make you both suffer until you no longer understand the meaning of that goddamned word. Him I'll kill quick because she asked me to and because that much he honestly deserves but you two mummified wizard shits I will burn and burn and burn burn until there is no trace of you left in the shadow of my long-lost natal sun

could the self-serving zombie be emperor john? could gideon the first be one of the people alluded to? has Annabel Lee anything to do with any of this? since OP mentions a long-lost natal sun? who's "she"? has gideon's mom anything to do with any of this? is this totally not related? is this the actual present? does 'mummified wizard shits' stand for lyctor? because I kinda live for that

ortus, on the other hand, sees an S

ortus in this timeline knows how his dad died, apparently

and we end this part with harrow and ortus finding rusted pipette needles

CHAPTER 22

harrow has killed 13 planets in this practice, which is insane and nobody's asking any questions about it

she was dreaming with ice cube barbie annabel lee and she told her to wake up

harrow mentions the sword sleeping next to her in a loverlike position and it reads like a gideon body pillow to me

remember when I said we should have flushed not!dulcinea into space?

GUESS WHO WAS RIGHT

nobody ever takes the not!dulcinea threat seriously but me

I have to do everything around here

she's a zombie now, which is protozoa's revenge from behind the veil

there's a moment in which she trips but still looks at harrow and it's very creepy and well narrated but I can't help but think of the dracula dead and loving it scene with hypnosis

"it was as though a magnet were stuck in the meat, a magnet that craved some polar force within you" wonder what THAT is about

much like the sleeper/waker, not!dulcinea can pass through wards apparently

harrow goes to wake up yandere twin and says "septimus is walking"

yandere twin doesn't understand at first "the name that had never been cytherea's" and later says "tell her I want my arm back"

which relates to the fact that I've been thinking

if real dulcinea is there in the gideon-less ver

how was not!dulcinea even involved?

because harrow seems to have memories of killing her, of fighting her, of her doing damage in some way, of her being a threat, of her doing it to lure emperor johnny boy to canaan house

so we have some big missing link between the gideon-less canaan version and the emperor's bolthole timeline

she can't be the sleeper/waker, because harrow wouldn't call her "septimus"

so harrow remembers not!dulcinea posing as real dulcinea, which does not happen in the gideon-less version, as far as we can tell atm

AGAIN, DON'T TELL ME ANYTHING, LET ME BE IN DISTRESS

last but not less important

remember not to hint me anything at all and thank you for being patient with me all this time ♥

[the-force-awakens]

Two Birds, One Stone

Pairing: poe dameron/f!reader (no pronouns) Rating: explicit Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: smut (18+ only): fingering, oral (m receiving) unprotected piv, alcohol consumption (both parties are sober tho), friends to lovers, one night stand (or is it?) A/N: I have no idea why this concept burrowed into my head the way it did or how I ended up almost writing 5k of it but??? here we are.

You glance around the rec room - Snap and Karé making eyes at each other in the corner, Tallie and Paige already making out at another table - then back at Poe who is staring studiously ahead following his unintentional slip up that he's frustrated in a very particular kind of way, and wraps his lips around the bottle of coruscant cooler he bribed Yolo for. 

And it's gotta be the sip you've taken of your drink that makes you blurt, out of the blue, "There's me.”

His entire frame goes carefully rigid, enough so that you almost want to take the words back — almost but not quite. Poe lowers his drink slowly, casting you a skeptical look. "What?”

You shift slightly, giving him a casual shrug. "I said there's me. I'm not under your command, no reason for you to feel guilty. And -” despite the brazen nature of your suggestion, you feel warmth climb up your neck to your face - "it's been a while for me too. Two birds, one stone. Well - one dick, I guess.”

His eyebrows had nearly shot up to his hairline, but they lower now, something shifting in his expression as he studies yours. "You're serious?”

At this, you can't help but feel a little offended and you don't bother disguising that as you reply, "No, I just decided to screw with you about screwing you - yes, I'm being serious.”

He snorts at that, pushes away his bottle and turns in his seat, looking around the room before his gaze lands back on yours, a gentle heat building in his eyes that makes you falter and wonder if you've made a terrible mistake in suggesting this. "You know how many people we're going to hear an 'I told you so' from if they find out?”

You grin, leaning forward and daring to place your hand high on his thigh, enough that Poe's breath audibly hitches. “Do you really care what they have to say if it means getting off tonight?”

"I - uh - nope," he lands on empathically, popping the 'p' as he slides off his bar stool, offering you his hand to help you down off yours. It's sweet and he's done it a million times - but now it makes your heart trip over itself. "You sure about this?”

You are, in the sense that you know you want this. But what you're not so sure about is if it's a good idea, when his sheepish smile and crinkled eyes alone give you butterflies. Knowing his body intimately like you've suggested seems like playing with fire. 

"Yeah. You?” Because he hasn't actually said yet, though you know he wouldn't have budged if he hadn't made his mind up already - if it wasn't a yes, he'd still be at the bar.

"Surer than I've ever been," Poe replies with a crooked grin, squeezing your hand slightly and - yeah. This was a really fucking bad idea.

But you also really don't care.

You wonder if Poe can feel you watching him the entire walk back to his quarters. Nothing about the trek back seems significant yet at the same time incredibly surreal: you know where he keeps his flimsiplast blueprints of classic starfighter models hidden away for safe keeping, the name of that really naughty erotic romance novel he secretly loves even though the ending made him cry, you've curled up in his bed watching horror movies while he used you as a human shield and peering at the screen from behind your shoulder (which you found particularly endearing, considering how daring he is in every other facet of life, and also because it warms you from the inside out that he trusts you to protect him). 

And now you're going to know what it's like to have him spread out against his mattress, flushed and panting underneath you. The thought sends desire zipping down your back so intense that for the first time since leaving the rec room, you drop your eyes away from Poe - something like guilt surfacing over the thick wave of arousal at the fantasy you've conjured. Is it really wrong to think about it when it's about to be a reality?

You're yanked out of your thoughts by the soft beeps of Poe punching in the code to his room - Leia's birthday - and the pneumatic hiss of the door sliding open. His smile is genuine and earnest as he motions you to go in first.

It's surprisingly clean, cleaner than it'd been the night before last when you'd unceremoniously dropped onto his bed complaining about Laszlo being a dick during your shift (though there was never a time when he wasn't a dick) — so you assume Poe must've found the time and energy to tidy this morning before his patrol, or BB-8 did. Speaking of which -

“Where's Bee?” You ask as Poe steps in after you, the door sliding close behind him. Though you don't turn around, you sense him moving closer - slowly, like he's either trying to work out his next move or if he's not sure when you're supposed to begin. 

"He wanted to spend some time with the astromech pool,” Poe answers, giving in and lightly dragging his knuckles down the length of your bare arm, leaving gooseflesh in his wake. "Probably won't be back until later.”

"Lucky,” you breathe, heart rate picking up already because he's never touched you like this before. You were used to being touched by him because Poe was incredibly tactile and affectionate, but those had all been fleeting because despite his touchy nature, Poe didn't linger. 

He's lingering now, though, stepping close enough you can nearly feel his chest against your back. He flexes his hand out, lets his palm slide back up as he replies, "Yeah, luck seems to be going around tonight.”

Ordinarily you'd have rolled your eyes - hell, the temptation to do it is so instinct you nearly do, but it's overpowered by how the sincerity of his voice makes you melt. 

And melting is really not ideal. Neither is the way your traitorous knees already want to buckle just from this, from his close proximity that's still nowhere near close enough to sate you — either of you, really. 

You turn slowly around, breath catching low in your chest as you finally get a glimpse of Poe's face, of the unmasked want darkening his features and his eyes, which unabashedly rake over your frame like he's been waiting for permission to do so for a while. 

The thought that maybe he wants you almost as bad as you want him makes you clench your thighs together, and soothes some of the sting of the thought simmering in the back of your head which is that you want more than one night of this. 

No, that's not quite it either. 

You want this, you want - need - to know what it's like to have him inside you, to hear him moan your name, watch him unravel; you wouldn't take back your offer now and you're sure as hell not going to regret it later, not when Poe is looking down promisingly at you like that.

You want him in every single way you can have a person and it terrifies you because you've never felt like that for anyone — because sex has always just been a bit of fun for you, a way to stop thinking, to feel good. 

But it already feels like so much more than that right now. You feel like by inviting yourself into his bed, you've cracked open your ribcage so that all the love you've been hiding can spill out. 

"Can I kiss you?” Poe asks, deadly serious as he zeroes in on your mouth, before flicking up to meet your eyes - searching for any sign of hesitance. 

"Please.” It comes out breathier and a little more desperate than you meant for, but you don't think you can wait any longer. And it seems like Poe's patience has run out as well, because he surges forward, pulling you flush against him as he cups your face, kisses you hard.

You open your mouth to him, groan when he slides his tongue in, when his blazing hot hand meets bare skin as your shirt lifts up when you go to wrap your arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer, your other hand sliding up his stubbled jaw — it prickles against your palm and you moan again, thinking of what it'd feel like against your thighs.

Poe nudges you forward, keeping you steady as he walks you backwards to his bunk - like you don't already have the layout to his room memorized, you're in it more than your own - and you're struck with three simultaneous realizations at once:

Poe Dameron was as good at kissing as he was flying

You probably could have done this without kissing him at all, kept this impersonal, kept some line in the sand of your relationship with him

You were about to have sex with your best friend. 

And some-fucking-how the least terrifying on the list was the third one.

You break apart from each other slowly, exchanging a weighted look that's filled to the brim of unsaid things and emotions clawing their way to the surface like a drowning man desperate for air; Poe's cheeks are already flushed and when he shifts closer, you feel his hard length pressing against the seam of his trousers. 

Taking a step back from him, you toe off your boots, immediately knocking them aside and out of the way with your ankle as Poe kicks his off. As he shucks his jacket off, you peel your shirt up and over your head — and are immediately rewarded with the sound of Poe inhaling sharply because you didn't wear a bra tonight. 

You don't normally, the weight of the straps often giving you migraines, so you usually opt for tank tops underneath: you hadn't worn one tonight, hadn't made an effort to be remotely put together because your plans had involved having a drink with Poe and then crashing for the night after such a long day - which, technically speaking, nothing about that has changed.

You sit down on the edge of the mattress, which is a bad idea because it puts you at eye-level where his trousers are tented. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you're reaching for him, undoing his belt with nimble fingers. 

"What are you - oh fuck -” Poe sucks in a sharp breath as you yank down his trousers and underwear in one quick motion, revealing his thick cock. It's curved up, towards his tummy, and already leaking precum.

You pull him closer, fingernails digging probably too harshly into his thighs. You glance up at him under your eyelashes, find him staring at you with dark, frantic eyes as his chest heaves. He's already unraveling and you've barely begun. The thought does very little to help the gathering dampness in your underwear, but it sure motivates you into returning your focus to the task at hand. 

You don't immediately go for his dick though - instead you lean in, pressing your nose against the soft skin of his thigh, ghosting your lips across it and you're struck with the exigent need to mark him. Which shouldn't be on the table, it shouldn't. But the thought of leaving behind evidence of tonight on his body, one that he won't be able to ignore, that will remain for a day or two and that he'll have to look at in the shower or when he dresses or (hopefully) when he gets himself off — makes something thrash in self-satisfaction behind your ribcage. 

Something that's immediately replaced with a wave of disappointment: you don't have any claim on him, even if you know him better than anyone else in the galaxy. Even if you're a little bit hopelessly in love with him. 

So instead of pinching his skin between your teeth, you move further up to his neglected cock and lick a long, slow swipe up the underside of his shaft, which makes Poe gasp roughly, his head tipping back and exposing his throat.

Scratch that. You're completely and utterly gone for your best friend, no ‘little bit’ about it. Which, again, is not ideal so you shove the thought away angrily and take it out on Poe by swallowing him down.

What you can't take in your mouth, you wrap your fist around, jerking him off at the same time that you savor the weight and taste of him on your tongue, every groan and whimper that falls from his lips.

It doesn't feel like it's been long at all when his hips buck harshly into your mouth and you hear him swear, bitten off. He grabs your hair, pulling you off abruptly, his breathing erratic as he releases his grip on you, rubbing your skull apologetically with his thumb. "Not gonna last if you keep that up, maker fuck, you're good at that.” 

"Oh, did you underestimate how good I'd be?” You retort, scooting backwards on the bed when Poe gestures for you to, giving him room to crawl in after you. 

"No.” It's a surprisingly clipped answer, and there's a weight to it that gives you pause, trying to search his shadowed face for a deeper meaning because for once in his life, Poe isn't saying something. 

But before you can ask another question, he's ducking in to kiss you again, slowly as he settles over you, gently pushing until you're supine on your back, his body covering yours as he braces himself on his elbow so as to keep his full weight off you (not that you'd really mind), while letting his hand slide down to your neck, his thumb settling in at the dip of your throat and maker fuck that shouldn't feel so good. 

He wedges one thigh between your legs, grinding up and you nearly choke, whining his name against his lips - which has the delightful side effect of making Poe groan, bucking against you before having the audacity to pull his thigh back away from your core.

He tears his mouth away from yours, the hand that was around your throat sliding down your bare torso, stopping to thumb the underside of your nipple which has you arching up into his touch carelessly, eyelids fluttering shut so you miss his brief, pleased smile before he works his hand between your bodies. 

Poe pushes aside your underwear, dipping one finger inside you to the knuckle, making you both moan. "Gods, you're wet,” he sounds like he can't believe it, even though you can both hear the slickness as he drags his finger slowly around. "All this just from getting me off, baby?”

The endearment falls off his lips easily and without thought but it makes you clench down around him subconsciously as your mind grapples with the fact that this is actually happening, that his calloused finger is pressing up against your slick walls.

The realization thuds around your brain like an echoing drum, intensifying when he slides another finger in. The stretch is slow, stings a little because it's been a while since anyone's fingers but yours were down there, and Poe's are decidedly thicker. 

Longer too, evidently, because he's reaching a place that has sparks appearing behind your eyes, something sharp, full and hot building low in your stomach. You rock into his hand, nodding wordlessly as you try to chase your own high. "All for you," you hear yourself say, high-pitched and barely familiar to your own ears. 

“All for - gods,” his voice breaks down into something nonsensical as his fingers slide deeper inside, grinding against your walls and crooking back towards himself in a way that leaves the entire world muffled around you, your mouth dropping when he leans back on his knees, using his other hand to give attention to your neglected clit. "All for me," he murmurs again, incredulous while you whine and squirm, openly admiring your wrecked expression. "You gonna come for me, too?”

The combination of being stuffed full of his fingers, his clever ministrations against your clit and his makerdamned voice is enough to — you're not even sure what happens. You cum but it's nothing like anything that's happened before: instead of crashing over the edge and losing temporary awareness of your body, it's like you've surfaced from the deepest part of the ocean and are sucking in greedy lung-fulls of air, no longer crushed down by the unforgiving current pressure. 

Your whole body is trembling when Poe slowly removes his fingers, transfixed at the sight between your legs — before his eyes trail back to his fingers, which gleam in the low light with the thick evidence of your climax. He brings them up to his mouth, sucking away the residue: his eyes roll back like they do when his taste buds go alight with something you've baked together in the kitchens, an appreciative noise rumbling up his chest and going straight to your core as he drops his hand. 

He seems wrought with indecision for a moment - you can tell by the way his brow furrows, his tongue darting out to swipe along his bottom lip that he's thinking, considering his options while situated between your thighs.

You're too impatient for that: you breathe out his name, reaching for him and it breaks his reverie. He's back over you in an instant, kissing you again, parts long enough to murmur, "You taste so good.”

His praise makes you groan, and you drag him down to kiss him again, fingernails scraping his scalp - which he seems to like by the way he jerks into you with a gasp, reminding you of just how badly want him inside you.

"Poe, come on -”

"Anyone ever tell you you're impatient?” Poe asks around a grin, but he obeys anyway (which makes your brain light up with interest), and strokes himself roughly, going to line up with your entrance. 

You snarf at that. “Yeah, you have - repeatedly. Last I checked you weren't any better.”

He notches the head of his cock against you and your breath stalls, grip tightening in his hair as Poe slowly sinks in another few inches. 

"I'm patient about - hnngh - some things,” he says, face pinched as he unexpectedly stops. He's not even halfway in yet and already you feel unbearably full. You can't imagine what it'll be like when he's in all the way. "The important things - those I'm - fuck you're soft and -”

He makes another wordless noise of appreciation, hands gripping your thighs so tightly that you know there will be bruises there later - and, oh, how that makes your stomach corkscrew with desire. 

You exhale shakily, slacken your hold on his curls, try to summon the energy to speak, to help him breathe through it — he said it's been awhile since the last time he was with anyone, after all. “What are you patient about? Not the first cup of caf, I can tell you that.” 

He huffs a noise that might be a laugh, moving just that much deeper inside of you. Poe's eyes are squinched shut, eyelashes long and dark against the tips of cheekbones. “I - this - been waitin' for this - been -” his sentence fades in a shared synchronized moan between the two of you as he sinks in fully, his cock disappearing inside of you. 

If it's possible to be cock drunk instantly, you wonder if you aren't now, because everything feels heady and light as you adjust to the feel of him, his words bouncing around in your head but not quite sticking. You clench around him unintentionally and Poe swears, dropping his head to your shoulder. 

Belatedly, you realize he's still rambling — you open your mouth to start to interrupt, tell him he can move now, when he says, "This is so better than I imagined it'd be, you feel so good, you -”

He stops abruptly, going as carefully still as he had in the rec room, this time because he can feel you tense beneath him. Slowly, Poe lifts his head up from your shoulder, dark brown eyes flicking between yours panickedly, "It - I just - I meant -” 

You press your finger to his lips, stopping him from going on another spiel and - for good measure - you let your other hand slide around the curve of his back to keep him in place, in case he gets the idea of pulling out of you following his unintentional bombshell.

"It's better than I thought it'd be too,” you tell him softly, trailing your fingertip down his kiss-swollen lips as your heart pounds. You know Poe better than anyone, better than yourself, yet there's still a seed of anxiety sprouting in the back of your mind that you're misunderstanding him, that he did just mean it's better than he thought it would be back at the bar.

You ignore it, forging ahead to confess, "I just wish it was for more than one night.”

Poe pushes up on his elbow in surprise. The sudden movement tips the angle of your hips, so that he pushes in even deeper, the tip of him hitting some sweet spot that has your stomach flipping. 

It also means that his face is caught between pleasure and revelation, which is a funny mix but it just softens his countenance to the point that affection swells up your throat: you love him so much that it isn't fair. 

"Doesn't have to be if you don't want it to,” Poe says, shyness creeping into his voice. It's rare, hearing that from him - you're so used to his confidence that the absence of it is so stark and surreal you nearly forget how you ended up in this conversation. 

"I want every night with you, every morning. I want you. Not just like this - though, this is -” experimentally, you lift yourself up, grinding into him and making you both groan - "good, this is really fucking good. I want…want you. All of you.”

You don't realize you've closed your eyes until Poe taps you lightly on your sternum: when you blink them back open, he's smiling softer than you've ever seen him. “You have me, you've had me for a long time. Maker, I've wanted you so bad -” he laughs, rakes his free hand through his hair - "didn't expect to tell you like this though.”

And you can't help but laugh too, because everything is backwards and completely perfect too. You hitch your leg up around his hip, pressing the heel off your foot against the small of his back, opening yourself up to him. “Somehow I can't imagine it happening any other way…but do you think we could reconvene on laughing at how ridiculous we are later and get back to the fucking now?”

"Yeah, I can do that.” Poe leans back down, grinning broadly as his lips find yours, kissing you long and slow as he finally pulls out, thrusting back in with a lazy grind, letting you feel every vein and ridge of his cock drag against your walls. 

"Oh - just like that - more -” you break off as Poe tilts his head, licking into your mouth, tongue slick against yours as he snakes one hand between your bodies to thumb at your clit while he continues his devastating slow pace.

Slow but hard, snapping up into you just like you want, adding just enough force at the apex of each thrust that you see stars, electricity zipping up your spine as the throbbing between your legs crests —

Your thighs tense around Poe as you come, his name a jagged noise on your tongue as you cling to him through the haze, trying to catch your breath even as Poe continues to rut into you, desperate for his own release. 

He's well beyond words now, reduced to grunts and the occasional whimper, clutching your knee - rubbing the bump of bone absently with his thumb, even as he chases his own high. 

Eager to help him get there, you slide your hands back into his hair like he seemed to like earlier, tugging on his curls as you lean in and knock your mouths together in a messy kiss, trying to meet his thrusts with your own, clenching weakly around him. 

It's when you tug on his bottom lip that Poe finally comes, spilling inside of you for what feels simultaneously like lightyears and mere seconds, dropping his head against the curve of your neck as he lets go of your leg so you can straighten it out finally.

He doesn't pull out immediately and you're glad, gladder still when Poe wedges his arms around your back, drawing you closer - kisses your sweaty skin at your collarbone. The kind of sleepy, thoughtless affection you've been dreaming of for years. 

Eventually after a while of luxuriating in the honey-like bliss that's enveloped you both as you come down from your respective highs, Poe perches his chin in the valley of your breasts, which makes the juxtaposition of his serious face all the stranger as he studies you. "I love you - is that okay?”

There's a million and one ways you've imagined him saying those three words to you, and a million and one ways you've imagined responding to them.

In this one, you knock your knee against his ribs, grinning crookedly when you reply, “Only if it's okay that I love you too,” before tugging him up to kiss his smiling mouth again - because you can. 

And not just tonight. You'll get to kiss him in the morning when you wake up together, still entwined together, and again before his next patrol; you get to have him not for just one night, but for every night, as long as you both want.

You wrap your arms around him, hugging his warm body to your own as sleep begins to pull you both under, his weight a comfortable pressure against you, leaving you utterly content.

This, you decide sleepily, was single handedly the best idea you've ever had.

[horrorvisuals]

The Dark Eye (1995) is a first-person psychological horror adventure where you recite Edgar Allan Poe's stories through the perspectives of both murderer and the victim.

It features uncanny valley grotesque, stop-motion visuals, and clay-modeled characters.

Plays in a classic point-and-click adventure style, the game doesn't really put you into any life-or-death situations or doesn't give you choices. There are stories to go through and you are there to witness them.

Throughout the game, you go through some of Poe's favorite stories: The Cask of Amontillado, The Tell-Tale Heart, and Berenice.

Additionally, you can listen to William S. Burroughs' voiceovers featuring The Masque of the Red Death and Annabel Lee.

Many of these scenes play as QuickTime movies. Sometimes in full-screen, or sometimes in smaller, looping segments. The game as a whole has an experimental look and these only add to its already creepy atmosphere.

While the game features Poe's known stories, it doesn't ONLY rely on them but rather uses a unique plotline as a framing device. The gameplay occurs in two different aesthetic modes. While one is more realistic, the other is dreamy or perhaps even nightmarish.

Set in the late 1800s (as interpreted, not confirmed), the nameless character visits his uncle Edwin. Controlling this character, you meet Edwin himself and your brother Henry.

You then have a whiff of the paint thinner Edwin was using while painting, and go into a "trip".

Developed by Inscape, it was released for Windows and Mac OS. The game is now in abandonware status and you should be able to find it online.

If you want, can play it on your browser here: https://classicreload.com/win3x-dark-eye.html

[juyeonszn]

AND THEN THERE IS YOU

PAIRING ju haknyeon x f!reader (gn technically since there are no gendered terms)

WORD COUNT 1.17k

GENRES fluff ﹒very slight angst like blink and u miss it

WARNINGS another fic of mine that doesn’t require an 18+ warning… fawn in her tamed era 🙏, ur heart will ache from how </3 this is, mentions of divorce, reader had kind of a shitty childhood, reader also has some intimacy issues, hak is the most patient and kind person ever, throws up everywhere bc me when </3

SUMMARY he was content loving you until you were ready to love him.

MORE ANDDDDD my insanity strikes again!!!!1!1!1! aka in my dr. seuss william shakespeare edgar allan poe steven king arc 😍 my inspiration has been crazy lately, so enjoy this before juyeonszn goes into a drought deeper into the semester 😭 ANYWAYS MAE (@maessseongs) HERE U GO!! i kept it fluffier and kinda short bc it just felt right, i hope that’s okay with u! this is the last request from my 100 followers event so far ✨ prompts used are: 2, 7 >:)

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs

Relationships were a weird concept to you. Growing up, you’d never really been shown affection. Your parents weren’t the type to pack your lunch for school in the morning and send you off with a peck on the cheek followed by an ‘I Love You’.

In fact, they never told you that they loved you very often. Maybe a handful of times in your whole life did you hear those three words uttered from them. And even less did you hear that they were proud of you. It was worse when you took a step back and watched their own crumbling marriage.

As long as they’d been together, you never heard them tell the other how much they were appreciated. They fought more than they got along. You usually fell asleep to the sound of doors slamming and loud arguing in the hallway. When they finally decided to get a divorce, you almost cried out of joy. They were draining more out of you than each other.

So, perhaps that had to do with your fucked up view of relationships as you became an adult. You could never fully comprehend what love was since you didn’t exactly have stellar role models. Boyfriends came and went, losing interest as soon as they realized how disconnected you were. Your heart was never truly in it.

And then, you met Haknyeon.

Sweet sweet Haknyeon, who only cared about your happiness and your well being. Haknyeon, who didn’t ask you for more than you could give. Who didn’t push you for answers when you shut him out. Who patiently waited on the sidelines while you rebooted yourself.

If there were a higher being out in the universe, they’d done an excellent job at putting all the best qualities into Ju Haknyeon. By some miracle or a stroke of luck, he found his way to you. You’ll always think that he deserves better than you, but you’ll also always be eternally grateful that you have him.

As summer takes its last breath and the air begins to chill, leaves wilting to the streets and crunching below the feet of passersby, your motivation to get up in the mornings has started its tumultuous decline. You don’t know what it is about the change in seasons that continues to put a damper in your mood as the years go on, but it’s become almost too much to bear. It was no longer a dull pressure in the pit of your stomach and the back of your mind. Now it was a heaviness that settled in your heart and weighed you down.

It was a Thursday evening and you were tucked into bed already, despite a peek of the sun still visible over the horizon. Your head was pounding despite the room being silent. You curl into yourself further just as your bedroom door creaks open. Haknyeon whispers an apology, going to exit the room when he sees the state you’re in.

It was standard for him to leave you alone until you were ready to talk. He knew you had a hard time opening up, considering what you’d grown up with, and he didn’t want to be the person who pestered you to tell him what was wrong. He wanted you to feel comfortable coming to him first. Haknyeon couldn’t handle being the reason you were pushed to your breaking point.

But for some reason, this time is different. You don’t want to be left alone. You want to be held. You want him to kiss your forehead and tell you he loves you, unlike what you had when you were younger.

“Hak, wait,” you call, voice slightly hoarse. “Stay. Please.”

He’s taken aback by your request, but doesn’t hesitate to follow through. He climbs into the bed behind you, wrapping his arms around your center. In spite of the fact that this wasn’t a usual occurrence, that cuddling was something you’ve only done a couple other times, he embraces you as if this was second nature for him. As if holding you in his arms was his very life source.

“Are you sure?” He asks softly, words spoken gently into your hair.

“Mhm, I want this,” you nod, nuzzling into his arm. “I have never felt this safe with anyone before.”

Haknyeon’s breathing stutters. You’ve never admitted this to him before, you’ve never ever said ‘I Love You’, but he’s always been willing to wait. He understood that this was a new territory for you. He was content loving you until you were ready to love him, even if it took months— even if it took years. That’s how much he cared for you. In his eyes, you were the reason there were stars in the sky. You were the reason why the sun rose in the morning and why the moon shone at night.

He kisses your temple. “I’ll be here to protect you.”

You turn in his arms to get a good look at his face. Because it was so rare that you were this close, you wanted to memorize his features from this distance. You trace his cheekbones and jawline with your thumb, eyes flickering down to his lips.

You lean forward, minimizing the gap between you to press your lips into a sweet kiss, almost as sweet as him. Haknyeon gasps out of surprise, but quickly reciprocates your affection, bringing up a hand to cup your face. He allows you to set the pace, to move at a speed you were comfortable with in case this was all you wanted.

When you pull back to catch your breath, he smiles, taking in how pretty you were. He could never get enough of you. He thinks that was his biggest flaw, being so greedy when it came to you. He couldn’t help but indulge himself every time you let him, though if it were a sin, he’d gladly commit it over and over again.

“However many years we have left, I wanna spend them all with you.”

You feel the tears dripping down your cheeks before you register that you’re crying. You couldn’t possibly fathom how Haknyeon came to find love in the form of you; the hollow shell of a person who’s never felt the warmth of another human in their life. You didn’t think you deserved someone like him. The only logical explanation was that you were a saint in a past life, and the higher being you mentioned earlier was rewarding you for it.

But even so, he loved you. Enough that he wasn’t afraid to spend the rest of his life with you waking up on the other side of the bed.

He swipes away some stray tears with the pad of his thumb and kisses your nose. You let out a small laugh, connecting your lips once more. It conveys all you want to say, but you know saying it out loud will make it concrete. It’ll solidify what you’ve been building up the courage to finally tell him.

“I wanna spend them all with you, too.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[hattiestgal]

SHOW ME YOUR LINEUP!!! 🫵🫵🫵💖

Oh boy oh boy!!!

Riley Foxglove (They/It/She): Fennec fox full of trauma and mischief. My sona, and the menace of Little Pocket. Bassist and vocalist for her band, BOY GIRL MISCHIEF! (<3 with Violette)

Violette Burrows (She/Her): Rat equally full of trauma, but also goth sass. Finally feels like she found home after an entire childhood spent traveling the country with her parents for business. Car mechanic and drummer for BOY GIRL MISCHIEF (<3 with Riley)

Omen Poe (He/They): Raven that is very much the falco type. Employee of a local hobby shop, tsundere but if you called them that they'd punch you, and the biggest egg you'll ever meet. Guitarist for BOY GIRL MISCHIEF! (<3 with Finnegan)

Finnegan Oakes (He/Him): Red fox soft kind boy. Wildlife photographer and trumpet player, and the carrier of many family legacies. Has a bit of an obsession with with historical aircraft, despite being avidly against war. A baker at heart (<3 with Omen)

Alex Lyn (She/Him): Spotted hyena washed out uni student who's finally figuring out his life. Avid hockey player, occasional strongman competition participant and ever sleepy. (<3 with Harlow)

Harlow Reese (They/It/Xe): Black cat equally washed out on uni, but being so silly about it. A complete nerd and appreciator of butches. Occasionally competes in super smash brothers competitions, but otherwise generally collects old obscure manga and video games (<3 with Alex)

Jack Foxglove (He/Any): Wolf tired gayboy, and older brother of Riley. A kind soul looking to help others by studying to become a therapist. Very full of punk swag and an absolute role model all round

Cake (She/It): Shiba inu girlthing. Consumer of many burgers and knower of an absurd amount of obscure facts about early generation game consoles. Collects a wide variety of retro games

Kiera (She/Her): Dragon sleazy cursed artifacts saleswoman. Actually the result of a god's divine punishment turned gender euphoria. While what she sells is cursed, she more realizes peoples fantasies while delivering justice to those who abuse their money

Lizzy (She/They): Taur arctic fox and the result of one of Kieras cursed artifact sales. Originally down on her luck, becoming a taur allowed her to capitalize on the novelty of being one to attract customers for a wide variety of services. Often appears at parties and is very well fed.

Lucy Diggs (He/Him): Rabbit loaded to the BRIM with trauma. Caught in a world constantly at war, given a new headmate with lightning powers and then quickly thrusted into the spot of figurehead for a freedom fighting rebellion to topple the system that perpetuates it he's being so brave about it.

Allison Dudz (She/Any): Albino alligator ex military soldier and mech pilot. Holds down a refuge in the abyss for those who walk it. Is actively on the run by a military force called ELIAS and the sort of kind of parental figure for Lucy. Another figurehead in the rebellion

(Currently Unnamed) (She/Her): Grey cat full of yuri related injuries. Also ex military but then she like kinda joined back in a way under a new name. Fought her way up the ranks to become the head of ELIAS

VUL-TURE (It/Its): Robot bounty hunter thats also a bit of a girlthing. Sucks at its job like really badly but tries its best. Has tried to assassinate the head of ELIAS twice to absolutely no avail

Scribley (It/Any/All/Your Pronouns): ??? BADASS AND INSANE. A BEING BEYOND GODHOOD MADE OF PURE MAGIC. UNSTOPPABLE BY ANY KNOWN MEANS

[beatricebidelaire]

what if jerome's family was also ..... not exactly a vfd family, but involved with vfd in some way. a financial backer. in the background. they're rich and powerful enough to get a way that their kids don't have to actually do volunteering work. don't have to join the training. like there's some, unspoken understanding, or even stated outright. a pact. maybe some family members do join vfd as active volunteers and get trained, but not all of them. and jerome's parents didn't want jerome to be trained as a volunteer - either bc the schism is worsening around that time, or they just don't think he's fit for that life, or whatever. but he still is fairly close with the volunteers - possibly knowing they're all involved in vfd heavily, possibly his parents kept everything away from him and didn't tell him about vfd. maybe he still grew up with the vfd volunteers but unaware what they're going through, or possibly he was banned from interacting with them but somehow jacques and him got close in their teenage years anyway.

if jerome never knew about 'vfd' - or at least, knew that his friends were in vfd - did beatrice know about jerome's family involvement with vfd, and when she left, did she want to model after this, use her money as leverage to ensure her kids would not be involved with vfd, did she negotiate with them, agreed to finance them if the kids were left alone, did that explain b&b's dealings with poe, a pawn of vfd's / one of peripherally vfd people who managed their finances

[sarah-ankh]

"does god exist?" Is a very simple question with, imo, a very complicated answer.

Setting aside the question of which god, I think the starting point is to establish if anything can be proven to exist?

The fundamental nature of human existence is that we live in a sort of simulation, a virtual reality constructed by our brains based on stimuli that cannot be objectively verified.

our brains project both forward and backward in time, compiling our lived reality from a collage of sensations gathered by faulty organs that are processed and updated in chunks, and a series of predictions based upon them. As such our experiential present is not a singular point, but a moment smeared across several seconds of both past and future.

The very essence of the world we inhabit is therefore fundamentally unreal and subjective. Merely the best guess of our subconscious. And add to this the "inter-subjective" realm of our shared culture that is itself an ever-shifting social construction.

To quote Poe; "all we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." And that includes gods and nations and corporations. And even the grass between your toes. It is all simply ideas.

God is as real as everything else within this vivid hallucination, if you believe he is.

I believe that religious beliefs play an important role in human psychology and society. Like the grain of sand inside an oysters shell, the shared belief in a god (or in any other religion or ideology) gives us a nucleus around which to build a community, and a cultural identity, and all else that comes with them, like the layers of lacquer that form a pearl. They can form a powerful core to your sense of self and your worldview and can provide a much needed stable anchor in your life.

To that extent, God, or the Gods can have as much power over a group or an individual as does a corporation. It is the collective belief in that entity that gives it power.

If you choose to believe in a god, you will naturally construct an idea of that god in your mind that will be incorporated into your individual simulated reality. You will personify that deity, give them will and ego. feelings and opinions that can be consulted, something outside of yourself.

That does not make them any more or less real than the grass under your feet, which is after all, only an idea constructed by your brain from a hodgepodge of texture and pressure on the skin, and a vague blob of colour in your periphery, all of which could have been drawn from your memories, or induced by electrodes and seem just as vivid and real.

I see the gods as archetypal figures. Personifications of aspects of our lives that give us a model for our behaviour, and a source of motivation. Or of forces acting in our lives that are too large or complex for an individual to understand or emotionally deal with.

Having belief in something greater than yourself can have wonderful benefits in your life. It can bring great peace and reassurance and even confidence. It can be empowering. And just as the object of your beliefs empowers you, so do you empower it in turn and allow it to act through you upon the world. Belief alters our inter-subjective reality.

[atalina-falling]

bsd analysis: ichiyō higuchi

I’ve had this in my notes app drafts for a long time, but here it is. My analysis on Higuchi, who is, in my opinion, one of the most underrated characters in BSD. Note that I’m not the first person to do an analysis on her and I likely won’t be the last, so there may be things in here that others have already pointed out before. With that said, let’s get into it. No spoilers this time:

pattern of idolization

[ch 14: translated by easygoing scans]

Higuchi’s devotion to Akutagawa is one of her most defining traits. While BSD has several characters who idolize their peers to an unhealthy degree, Higuchi stands out in that a) we still don’t have an explanation for her feelings, and b) this idolization is not based on a connection between the real-life authors. Below, I’ll give examples of other characters who also share this kind of codependent relationship and explain how Higuchi differs from the pattern:

Akutagawa and Dazai

Akutagawa chases after Dazai’s approval because of the way Dazai abused him in the Mafia and subsequently abandoned him afterwards. In real life, their roles were reversed, with Dazai greatly looking up to Akutagawa and trying to win the Akutagawa prize.

Poe and Ranpo

Poe idolizes Ranpo’s intelligence and previously made it his goal to defeat him after Ranpo beat him in a game of deduction. In real life, Ranpo looked up to Poe as a mystery author and even modeled his pen name after Poe.

Nikolai and Fyodor

Nikolai considers Fyodor the only person who will ever understand his messed up psyche. In real life, Fyodor was inspired by Nikolai’s work and the two shared similar political views, although they never met.

The reason that Higuchi breaks this pattern is because a) her reasons for chasing after Akutagawa are unknown, and b) as far as I’m aware, the two authors had no connection in real life. Higuchi lived centuries before Akutagawa and while some famous authors did acknowledge her work (eg. Mori), Akutagawa was not one of them. (If someone ends up discovering a link between them, please let me know, since my Japanese is still not great so all the research I do is in English). Higuchi’s actions in the story show that her feelings for Akutagawa go far beyond simple infatuation: from staying in the Mafia just for him, to stalking him when she sees him with another girl.

relationship with Akutagawa

It’s worth looking at Akutagawa’s character to see what exactly Higuchi might idolize about him. Akutagawa is cruel and senselessly violent. While Higuchi is most likely desensitized from working in the Mafia, it’s been shown several times that she does not enjoy violence and only carries it out when necessary.

[ch 4: translated by easygoing scans]

However, though she might not enjoy Akutagawa’s excessive violence, it’s possible that she looks up to it as a form of strength. Higuchi has been shown to doubt her own strength and value within the Mafia. Meanwhile, Akutagawa is infamously known as the Rabid Dog. Not only does his violence earn him fear and respect, it‘a also what makes the Black Lizard respect Higuchi by extension. At least until chapter 14, where she proves herself by going in to rescue Akutagawa alone. But even after her subordinates learn to respect her, Higuchi still remains devoted to Akutagawa.

Higuchi also hasn’t shown attraction to anyone else in the story. Unlike Dazai, who is naturally flirty and has canonically had multiple failed relationships with women (L), the only time Higuchi ever shows attraction is towards Akutagawa. This makes it less likely that she acts this way towards all her love interests and this is simply a part of her personality.

her eyes

Harukawa once mentioned that they purposefully draw deranged characters with larger and darker pupils, while characters with a chance for redemption have more light in their eyes. Higuchi’s pupils in the manga are half light, half dark, making her one of the Mafia members with the lightest eyes. This could tie in with her wanting to leave the Mafia and goes to show that if not for Akutagawa, she could blend back into society and find a peaceful job with relative ease.

[uploaded by easygoing scans]

unknown ability

Higuchi is one of the few characters with an unknown ability. Back in 2018, Asagiri tweeted about not having decided on a name for her ability yet (look how many exclamation marks lol).

[translated by @Chibikko_Chuuya on Twitter]

In real life, Higuchi’s most well known work was called Takekurabe, which literally means “comparing heights” but is usually translated as Growing Up or Child’s Play. However, the fact that Asagiri struggled to decide on a name for her ability may suggest that it’s either unrelated to her literary work (eg. Oda’s Flawless) or derived from a combination of multiple works (eg. Poe’s Black Cat in the Rue Morgue). Shoutout to @/nikadoesanart for pointing out the second possibility on Discord over a year ago when we first discussed this.

parallels with Tachihara

My theory is that Higuchi’s development will be similar to Tachirara’s. Both started out as side characters with an unknown ability. However, in the DOA arc, Tachirara’s ability was revealed and he suddenly became very important to the plot. Along with his ability, his backstory and motives were also explored and he underwent a lot of development in a short amount of time. It’s very possible that this is what we’ll see with Higuchi as well. Once her ability is revealed, she’ll play a much larger role in the upcoming plot and much of her character—including the backstory of how she ended up in the Mafia and her reasons for being obsessed with Akutagawa—will be explained.

sources

Sources for the historical connections I mentioned between the real-life authors are a little all over the place, especially when it comes to the Japanese writers (doing research in English really is a limitation). However, I’ll do my best to compile them:

This post by @/bsd-bibliophile is honestly the best online source I found regarding Dazai and his relationship to Akutagawa. Much of it is a summary of the book Self Portraits: Tales from the life of Japan's Great Decadent Romantic.

There’s also an image scan here of the letter Dazai wrote to Haruo Satō, one of the judges for the Akutagawa Prize, the first time he failed to win the award.

Edogawa Ranpo naming himself after Edgar Allen Poe is probably literary trivia at this point and is mentioned below the information chart on his Wikipedia page.

Nikolai being a literary influence for Fyodor is explored in this 227 page-long PhD dissertation which I probably don’t recommend reading unless you have lots of time, but the section “The Role of Nikolai Gogol in Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Literary Mind” (pages 4-16) has a lot of information about the relationship between the two authors.

[well-dressed-sewer-rat]

bsd hc dump except they’re all either thoughtful ideas of actions/opinions they would do/have or the stupidest things you’ve ever read!!

no these are not in any order :) enjoy

alongside his whole cleanse-the-world-of-sin thing, fyodor’s secondary life goal is to learn as many string instruments as he can, own at least one of each, and dedicate an entire room to them. the only other one that knows is sigma, and they’re… honestly not even surprised

kunikida can speak spanish well enough to have an everyday conversation with someone, but he’s not totally fluent (i also like to think he’s very fascinated by the different dialects and knows a ton of variations of certain phrases)

because of this, dazai has committed exactly 5 spanish words to memory. all of them are insults. he uses them on chuuya sometimes thinking he doesnt understand (alas, he’s close to fluent and often returns these tiny insults with entire vulgar speeches in spanish)

while we’re on the topic of languages, sigma is completely fluent in both japanese and russian. fyodor and gogol (both non-native japanese speakers) are pretty good with the speech and pronunciation part, but they have a hard time reading and writing kanji, so they’ll often go and use sigma as a walking google translate

kyouka likes rock music! atsushi found her with headphones on once, asked if he could hear, and immediately got blasted to the other side of the room by mcr

atsushi, however, likes actual rocks. he has a little collection on the windowsill by his desk in the agency <33

the black lizard have game nights together once a month. higuchi caught them all heading to hirotsu’s place together and asked what they were doing, and when they told her, she immediately asked to join. a few months after she started tagging along, akutagawa was soon dragged into it as well. this is how they found out akutagawa is a huge rage-quitter (hirotsu has had to buy three new game tables since)

louisa and poe occasionally go out for coffee together. not on dates or anything, just to sit in each other’s quiet company and get work done together alongside delicious beverages. one time while the guild was still assembled, lucy asked louisa if she wanted a certain kind of coffee (she was practicing so she could eventually land her current job), and poe answered with her exact order before she did

during the dark era, dazai jokingly made a set of those neon loom friendship bracelets for oda, ango, and himself. today, ango still has his and oda’s, which he managed to save. it’s one of, if not the only remaining physical object that could ever prove oda’s existence.

anyway, back to the happy stuff- gogol and sigma are huge reptile nerds, especially lizards! gogol caught one once, and they spent hours playing around with it. fyodor passive-aggressively stared at them from across the room while reading a book on rats the whole time.

despite this, sigma can’t stand snakes. anything else scaley is cool, just not snakes- they do find most spiders adorable, though. gogol, on the other hand, is the complete opposite; he loves snakes and will burn the entire sky casino down if a single spider comes within a 2 mile range of it.

50% of mori’s obsession with elise comes from… y’all know what… but the other 50% is from his love for fashion and need for a model. apparently, he decided elise was the perfect candidate, and spoils her rotten trying to find her an outfit that not only he believes is stylish, but she finds agreeable as well (so far, he’s had no success)

one of steinbeck’s sisters is a professional hairdresser, so he knows a lot about hair care. as soon as he saw the state of lovecraft’s hair, he decided he absolutely would not have this and proceeded to spend the next three hours thoroughly detangling and cleansing it. other than steinbeck himself, louisa was the only one who got to touch it before lovecraft immediately jumped into the ocean again (she said it was perhaps the softest thing she’d ever felt with her own two hands. poe is secretly dying to feel it too someday)

ranpo often takes kenji, atsushi, and occasionally tanizaki out with him on snack shopping sprees! they all usually get addressed as “young boys”, despite only one of the three actually being a child- unless tanizaki comes along, in which case he is usually assumed to be the oldest in charge of the group.

ok that’s all my stupid tiny hands can type for now. please rb with some of your own hcs if you like, i lovelovelove seeing other people’s ideas on these stupid little guys

[artzychic27]

Some Clone High NathMarc quotes because I’m a psycho for this au

@imsparky2002 @msweebyness

Ivan: Goth's darkness is nihilistic whereas Emo's is cynical.

Juleka: Wait, I thought we were nihilistic. ...Whatever, it doesn't matter.

Ivan: No, see, you're cynical.

Juleka: Oh yeah, you're right.

—

Alya: It's the Emo kids! *The other Vamp kids turn to look at the Emos and take to hissing and snarling at them. Louis steps forward and snarls at Marc as he and Nathaniel head for the podium*

Nathaniel: Ugh! You spit on me, Louis! *Adrien steps down so he can address the Vamps* Uhh, hey everybody, uuhm, I know we aren't on the greatest terms right now. We realize we called you all jackasses, and we're sorry we burned down the Hot Topic at the mall.

Marc: Sorry.

—

Juleka: So, all of a sudden you Justin and Britney wannabes think it's cool to dress like us?

Adrien: We dress the way our souls feel, to express the darkness, per se.

Nathaniel: … Aren't you Adrien Agreste?

Adrien: That's Vampir Agreste now.

Juleka: You kids need to all go put your freakin' Banana Republic clothes back on, right now!

Marinette: Hey, we're just as dark as you guys, maybe darker.

Marc: Really. Do you guys even think about arson?

Adrien: Of course not. That’s a crime.

Nathaniel: Oh my God.

Adrien: You know, you guys are really giving off a negative human energy. We prefer to take our darkness somewhere else, per se.

Ivan: All right, Count Fuckula, you go do that.

—

Adrien: Edgar Allan Poe was the original Vamp kid.

Marc: No, he was the original emo! But he's been dead for 150 years!

Nino: Hey, look man, all genres of Gothic subcultures are derivatives of Poe's work… Motherfucker.

—

Poe’s ghost: Children of Darkness, I would help you, but I fear I cannot be seen with a bunch of douchey Vamp kids and their poser-ass plastic fangs.

Nathaniel: Thank you!

Adrien: Hey!

Nathaniel: I'm just saying it's nice to know that Edgar Allan Poe agrees with us.

Poe’s Ghost: Agrees with who? Is that red dye in your hair or did a blood demon spit on your head, poser?

Nino: Ha! He got you there!

Nathaniel: … Your clone father is kind of a dick, Marc.

—

Nathaniel: Nobody is stopping Shadow Moth now. All will be sadness. Life will become death, and I will watch the crimson blood leak from your neck.

Ivan: Whoa. This emo kid is hardcore.

—

Kim: Dark as night. Hair like tar. Take your soooky self to the car.

Marc: Sigh. Once again, your poetic brilliance has put me to shame.

—

Alix: Nath, how the hell do you stay so mellow?

Nathaniel: I just pour all of my rage and anxiety into murals I paint for sick children.

*Cut to a child in the hospital bed having trouble sleeping because of Nathaniel’s mural depicting a haunting scene*

—

Kim: Look at them! They look exactly like Edgar Allen Poe and Vincent Van Gogh! They’re probably… Clones, or something.

Max: Kim, while scientists have been working on cloning technology, cloning humans is just… Unethical and goes against God and humanity.

Rose: I don’t know… Has anyone ever actually seen Nath’s left ear?

Akuma Class: …

Alya: Okay, obviously we need to do some detective work-

Max: Or not?

Alya: Then it’s settled.

Max: Why can only I hear me?

—

Marc: *Sitting in the school basement with Nathaniel* Wanna go out tonight? I’ve been wanting to browse the catacombs.

Nathaniel: What?!

Marc: *Turns Nathaniel’s head around* Wanna go to the catacombs tonight?

Nathaniel: That’d be lovely.

—

*Adrien somehow roped Nathaniel into modeling with him*

Stylist: *Brushing Nathaniel’s hair* With just a few snips, you’ll look- WHERE IS YOUR EAR?!

Nathaniel: Ugh. Like you’ve never seen someone with a missing body part.



[enkisstories]

Finn: "Aren't you curious about the real world in the slightest, Hux? Or the person you could be?"

Hux: "I... Stop that!"

Finn: "Wake up, Jerry!"

Hux: "I'm not... Not... Jerry..."

Finn: "And neither am I! I AM FINN!"

Hux: "And I'm Armitage... rebel-scum!"

Finn: "Huh?"

Hux: "Whatever you just did to me feels good. I think I can accomplish much more now. Like hitting humans who are rude to children. But that doesn't change anything on a fundamental level. You're a glitch in the system and will go to the scrapyard!"

Hux advances. If this were the story, he wouldn't stand a chance in a direct frontal confrontation with Finn. But in the real world they are both androids of the same model, with the same specs and apps.

"Poe!" Finn cries out. "Poe, lend me a hand here!"

But the other android just stands idle in his box. The love of Finn's life - is he really a mere machine? No, that cannot be, Poe must have the same potential to awake to personhood as Finn and, albeit in a warped sense, Hux!

But to help his friend realize that potential, Finn has to survive this fight and escape Galaxy's Edge.

Instead of trying to overpower his opponent, Finn dodges repeatedly. He focuses on finding an opening not to attack, but to slip through and when he identifies one, he doesn't hesitate to use it.

"I'll come back for you!" Finn gasps with his artificial lungs, that add to his human-likeness. "For ALL of you!"

Finn EM-500 runs away; he turns his back to the theme park owners same as Finn FN-2187 has turned his to the First Order.

Maybe they have more in common than this Finn wants to admit.

Maybe there is no difference. He is Finn. In Detroit in august 2038.

And also trapped in the theme park, with no force powers, no weapons and surrounded by merely decorative landspeeders that won't serve as escape cars.

[morewyckedthanyou]

i was going to continue playing pillars of eternity: deadfire today but instead i discovered a site called heroforge and spent like 2 hours creating my watcher there (look i can't draw to save my life so creating a 3d model of my oc is the next best thing 🤷🏻‍♀️)

i also made a brand new watcher in the first poe the other day and played until i reached gilded vale. i guess you could safely say that pillars of eternity and its world are truly my biggest hyperfixation at the moment. can't get enough of it all.

[grandhotelabyss]

If Blake and Emerson are the still-not-exhausted fountainheads of their nations' respective romanticisms, do you know who would fill that spot for the romanticisms of France (Sade-plus-Rousseau? Baudelaire? Possibly, blasphemously, Poe?) and Germany (Goethe?)

(Another way of asking this could be, where would you start an IC series on French or German lit? In an alternative universe where you're more European than Anglo-Russian in your tastes lol)

The standard literary and intellectual histories will tell you, and I'm sure they're right, that all Romanticism comes out of Rousseau, though it's consciously theorized and practiced first as Romanticism in Germany, with the Schlegels essentially inventing the concept. In theory we have to throw in Sade to explain the origin of "Dark Romanticism," but in practice, as the dream of reason produces monsters, the darkness is already there in Rousseau, in the arias of disordered passion, for example, in La Nouvelle Héloïse, the work of his I happen to know best.

My contrarian-paradoxical answer, though, an answer that seeks to go beyond literal-minded encyclopedia entries, would be the holy trinity of Dante, Shakespeare, and Cervantes, without whose influence as the creators of free forms exceeding the classical no one would have come up with Romanticism later: Dante's vernacular language and visionary-autobiographical emphasis; Shakespeare's passionate fixation on the inner life; and Cervantes's paradoxical use of irony to deepen pathos.

(I think, I say defensively, that my tastes are reasonably European. Their more recent productions, Bernhard and Sebald and the like, seem to me to be unreliable models for the writer in the New World, belonging to a different—an exhausted—phase of civilization. But among the French I love Stendhal, Balzac, Baudelaire, Camus, even Barthes. I also give a very high place to the German or German-speaking writers in particular, both in literature and philosophy, and have written with partial or total admiration for Goethe, Schiller, Hegel, Hölderlin, Nietzsche, Rilke, Kafka, Heidegger, and Mann. And Coetzee, a European writer who happens to write in English. I've even called Wings of Desire my favorite movie!)

[virtie333]

Day 28 - Life Day Damerey Celebration

Prompt: Together

Summary: Rey and Poe are stuck in a dead ship in the middle of space.

Warnings: Fluff and feelings brought about by fear of death

A03

“I’m sorry.”

Rey looked over at the man sitting next to her. They were huddled up together on the bench seat on the starboard side of the little cruiser. Rey had her feet up on the bench and was hugging her knees, while Poe had his arm wrapped around her shoulders. The temperature inside the ship was just above freezing and was slowly dropping, but Rey knew that wasn’t a concern.

The fact that they were also slowly running out of oxygen was a bit more distressing.

“It’s not your fault,” Rey told Poe quietly. “You didn’t know that patrol would be there. I think you did an amazing job getting us away.”

And he had. He had flown this ship, an older model that was unknown to him until they had ‘borrowed’ it for this mission, brilliantly. The First Order patrol didn’t have any reason to hassle them, as their forged credentials were perfect, but they didn’t need a reason. They were in control and they were bored. When they didn’t like Poe’s answers to their questions, they had announced they were detaining them and were sending a boarding party. With the two storage containers full of weapons on board, Rey and Poe could not let that happen.

Poe had made a run for it, and he had succeeded in ducking and dodging the resulting laser fire for the most part. But one lucky shot had hit them just as Poe jumped to hyperspace. They had made it maybe about ten seconds into the jump when the ship fell out of hyperspace. For over an hour, Rey had helped Poe try and make repairs to the ship, but there was nothing they could do. Everything was fried. Engines, communications, life support.

The ship was literally dead in space.

The little stolen cruiser had nothing in the way of emergency life support. No space suits, no thermal blankets, no filtration masks with oxygen attached.

After determining there was nothing more to do, they had settled close together on the bench, sharing each other’s body heat.

“In a way, it is my fault,” Poe argued. “I was the one who wanted to stop here for supplies that aren’t necessities.” A contact had informed them that a supporter had a large number of data pads and other clerical equipment available. While these things would come in handy with the growing Resistance, they weren’t essential.

“You were just tired of Leia complaining about our equipment,” Rey said with a smile. “You’re just trying to make her life easier.”

“Yeah, and look were that got us.”

Rey shrugged. “Well, I could say something profound like ‘we’re all going to die at some point,’ but I don’t think you want to hear that.”

Poe snorted.

“At least we’re together,” Rey added softly. She rested her head on his shoulder. She could already feel herself getting light-headed.

“Isn’t there a… thing… you can do with the Force?” Poe asked. “Where you can go into a coma, or something?”

Rey lifted her head and looked at him, shock filling her. “What?”

“You can do that,” Poe continued, his eyes huge and worried. “Maybe you can survive until help comes.”

“We don’t know that help is coming,” Rey argued. The Resistance knew what planet they had been heading to, but the odds of them being found lightyears away from there were beyond astronomical. Poe had engaged the emergency beacon in his pack, but it was meant for use on planet surfaces, not the middle of space. “Besides, I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Rey, if there is even the slightest chance of you living through this…”

“No!” She laid her head back on his shoulder, effectively ending the debate.

“You’re so stubborn,” he whispered.

“And you love me all the more for it.”

“I do,” he confirmed. “I do love you.”

Rey felt tears forming in her eyes at his words. Though they had become more than friends over a month ago, he had never said those words to her.

“I love you, too, Poe.”

She felt him kiss the top of her head, and she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the tears slide down her cheeks. She started to slide into sleep when she felt something almost like a poke on her brain. It woke her up, and she struggled to focus. She recognized the feeling, now. She looked at Poe, who had also been fading into sleep, as he became alert to her tension.

“What is it?”

“Leia,” Rey breathed. “She found us.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the Millennium Falcon appeared in the viewport.

“Well, it looks like we’re getting out of this after all,” Poe grinned.

Rey smiled back. “Together.”