EXPLODIEREN.

“As long as we are under the same sky, we shouldn’t be sad when we part ways.” CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT & BASED OFF CANON AND HEADCANONS. KINDERHEIM DETAILS ARE LARGELY THEORIZED.

[dernarrleid]

⸻ WARNING: This is a 21+ independent, mutuals only, multimuse blog for Naoki Urasawa’s ‘MONSTER’. There will be mature themes such as abuse, mentions of SA and graphic violence (all tagged with tw). Especially with the use of Johan and Wolfgang. If that is not for you, I suggest you unfollow. Most of my portrayal is anime & manga related with the alternative verses deviating slightly with headcanons. Knowledge of Monster is not needed, I usually try and acclimate some characters to different worlds anyway as they're pretty flexible.

CARRD / MEMES

loved by Lav , 21+, EST,   blogroll: @adaminfinitium, @returnbymori

[dernarrleid]

TELEGRAM FROM @mad-hunts READS: barton sighed underneath his breath as he very carefully stuck a needle beneath tenma's skin near his eyebrow (bevel up), only to inject the anesthesia inside as quickly as possible — the doctor pulling the needle out once he was done and holding his glove to the site afterwards to apply pressure. it was unfortunate that tenma had to get hurt for him to begin wondering whether he was working too hard; but hey, he himself could remember working too hard during residency for sure, so he wasn't judging. barton was just concerned for tenma as a colleague. ❝ you know... in the future, dr. tenma, you really ought to give yourself more breaks during the week. maybe you should even consider going on a short vacation? because if you keep on going like this, doctor, i fear you may not only put the integrity of your work at risk but your own patients. ❞ barton paused as he pondered the thought himself, which made him grimace, because if you were putting your patients at risk... that was a good way for the board to look into what you were doing and possibly have your license revoked. ❝ and i don't think you need me to tell you how bad that could be. so, please do something about how much you've been working. ❞

Kenzou chuckles weakly. "Do you take breaks, Doctor Mathis?" A few bruises, nothing major. That's what Kenzou tells himself right up to the point of contact with the needle. A deep gash runs along his temple to the edge of his brow bone. His leg must look worse but from Barton's expression, he can imagine the kaleidoscope of blues and reds and purples to be found in a few hours, when the blood seeps to the surface from all the tiny vessels snapped from his fall. Just a few more minutes until Kenzou had to leave but he had to attend to another patient. Compulsive? Very possible. There were minimal mishaps but he can admit when there any at all. Where he should have been more careful. It's manageable. He can handle it and he almost says a much but—but Barton.

The thing is? Kenzou has no doubts about the board looking into his file about this incident if they weren't already keeping tabs. Since Germany, and all the stories and rumors and paper trail died down, he would say it's been relatively good since then. Not stellar, and Gotham left much to be desired but Kenzou could function like a normal doctor without someone questioning him based on a series of unfortunate events that sound just the right side of insane to not be believed. Patience here were a bit cruel and the city had such an air of... of what he couldn't name it. But he felt a dull ache at the back of his head whenever the sirens blared, only because they'd been reverberating throughout the city at all hours of the day. If he didn't hear the tell tale sound he knows he'll deal with the fallout later in his domain—whether that should be a comfort to him is grounds for another panic, but when Barton presses against that dull ache, he winces and it pulls him back.

"Thank you for patching me up, I'm so—I don't think I have the coordination to do it myself." He neglects to say tired because, really, if he can take a short nap it should be fine right? At least until another bench frees up in the break room, then he'll sleep rather soundly for another thirty minutes. Obviously, to anyone in the hospital, Kenzou should've been home a day or two ago, but duty calls on him more times than he can admit. The guilt does too. Though he'd rather not dwellon that.

"My patients are never at risk Doctor, you know that." Kenzou sighs, leaning back against the reclined half of the hospital bed. His toes graze the metal stool jutting out the bed, hands pointedly in his lap to keep from doing something stupid like play with the hem of Barton's shirt. "I'll be... I'll try to rest a little more. I'm sorry. Though, knowing this place, are you certain those vacation days aren't just for show?" He tries to laugh but the pain fires off again, dampening his expression. And mood.

[dernarrleid]

TELEGRAM FROM @yeonban READS: Δ = tobias playing with nina's hair while she's trying to talk . ( i'm sorry he finds her reactions amusing asf 😭 #ragebaiter )

In a time of incredible peril, Nina concludes it wasn't the best idea to include Tobias in her errands. After their last meeting, she's sure the undercurrent of uneasy and humiliation will last a lifetime. Who thinks of going steady after the suggestion of a date? There aren't much to do in the shop now that he's made it impossible for her to maintain the illusion of cute, mysterious cashier—a title her friends have enjoyed using while hanging out more often than she thinks is necessary. She isn't really complaining about the company, in the attempt to juggle various shopping bags and folded cardboard boxes, it paid to have a strapping young man—just an extra hand really. It's been a drag lately having to pick up most of the logistics behind work, almost to the point where if the manager did drop off the face of the earth it would have been months ago without her knowledge. Her fingers grow weary with how heavy the bags are, the string digs into them leaving angry red lines when she sets them down.

"I know it's probably boring," Nina says, "but I need to make sure we're taking it to the right office." She fumbles, a bit frustrated at how twisted the straps her on her shoulder, finally fishing a burner phone from her purse. Nina gestures Tobias to a stray seat from an outside lounging area of a cafe. Hopefully no one says anything because it's absolutely not the time. As the phone rings, she casts Tobias a weary look. Before she can say anything however, the line picks up with a suspicious (very clear) low thumping base and chatter. She fumes silently, doing her best to remain polite despite the way her leg bounces.

In the mix of pleasantries and the effort she musters to make sure her voice has no infliction of anger, she feels a tug at her scalp. Nina's head snaps to Tobias, slapping his hand away immediately. A reflex, which she admonishes with a redder face than when they rushed for the train an hour ago. She holds a finger to her lips, mouth forming a 'shh', flustered when her manager asks her a question.

"Y-Yes, I can definitely pick that up on the way—" Nina yelps.

How she wants to swipe the smirk from his face, though perhaps that would be a bit much. She feels his fingers work their way through the strands locked under all the baggage around her and gets through the call without tearing either of their heads off. But as always, her annoyance holds a lighter tone despite how strained she sounds when she says, "Tobias, is there something—do you want to maybe eat now?" Are you trying to get me fired? "I-I'll treat you of course, you've helped me so much today... Though you—I don't have taste quite like yours so we can go somewhere that suits you."

[dernarrleid]

@lured-into-wonderland's / Nunnally!

[dernarrleid]

doing a double today working until midnight. but i'm off tomorrow :sobbing: the only day i don't have any work. which is also the day i get most of my writing done. god bless me, i haven't forgotten the others who liked that art post, i have just not had the time, but i will finish them this weekend

[dernarrleid]

I think I might set myself free of the shackles and turn my Subaru blog into a multi

[hide-and-seekrets]

[petaltexturedskies]

Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse

[petaltexturedskies]

Mary Oliver, from “On Meditating, Sort of” in Blue Horses: Poems

[leafymemes]

Reblog this post if you don't mind jumping around the timeline for different threads!

[leneemusing]

EMOTIONAL/PLOT DRIVEN INTIMACY PROMPTS

[ 1 ] for our muses to be in the midst of foreplay/building up to sex but one stops the other to make some kind of confession.

[ 2 ] for sender to wake up receiver after having a nightmare and initiate sex as comfort.

[ 3 ] for receiver to wake up sender after having a nightmare and initiate sex as comfort.

[ 4 ] our muses have just made up after a fight and begin to get intimate, trying to rebuild trust.

[ 5 ] one muse has just gone through a break up and goes to the other for comfort which leads to sex.

[ 6 ] sender had a bad date and receiver shows up at their door to cheer them up. they get a little tipsy and start making out.

[ 7 ] receiver had a bad date and sender shows up at their door to cheer them up. they get a little tipsy and start making out.

[ 8 ] our muses reunite after having been apart for an extended length of time which leads to sex, clothes everywhere, barely making it to the bed or not at all.

[ 9 ] sender is upset, receiver tries to confront them but rather than talk about it, sender initiates sex.

[ 10 ] receiver is upset, sender tries to confront them but rather than talk about it, receiver initiates sex.

[ 11 ] our muses try to break up only to end up having emotional/heated sex.

[ 12 ] sender confesses to having a crush on receiver which leads to receiver initiating sex.

[ 13 ] receiver confesses to having a crush on sender which leads to sender initiating sex.

[ 14 ] our muses lose power during a storm and have sex to keep warm or out of boredom.

[ 15 ] our muses are not together but sender confesses to receiver how lonely they are which spurs on receiver to initiate sex for comfort.

[ 16 ] our muses are not together but receiver confesses to sender how lonely they are which spurs on sender to initiate sex for comfort.

[ 17 ] sender pausing in the middle of sex to say "you're so beautiful/handsome"

[ 18 ] sender pausing in the middle of sex to say "i love you"

[ 19 ] sender pausing in the middle of sex to say "i missed you"

[ 20 ] for our muses to hold each other after sex, naked and warm and unwilling to detangle just yet.

a few sentences:

❝ i just want to feel something good. ❞

❝ i missed you so much. i just need you close to me right now. ❞

❝ let me show you how much i love you. ❞

❝ let me show you just how much i need you. ❞

❝ it doesn't have to mean anything, i'd just like some company tonight... ❞

❝ can i stay over tonight? i don't want to sleep alone right now. ❞

❝ i like the way you make me feel. i want to feel that way right now. i need to be with you. ❞

❝ no better way of getting over someone than getting under someone else, hey? ❞

❝ hey look you're not 'using' me if i'm the one offering. don't you think i get lonely too? ❞

❝ i miss the feeling of you inside me. ❞

❝ i miss being inside you. i miss feeling like we're the only two people in existence. ❞

❝ god all i did was think about you earlier and i got...excited. ❞

❝ i don't want to miss you anymore. please just kiss me. ❞

❝ will you just hold me for a little while? ❞

❝ this doesn't mean i'm not still mad at you— ❞

❝ i'm not sure if i forgive you yet, but i miss you. and i'm tired of missing you so... ❞

❝ i'm not sure how to ask this but—i've had a shit night. and you always used to make me feel good. ❞

❝ just come here. let me take care of you. ❞

❝ just relax. i'll do all the work. ❞

[mournfulroses]

J. M. Grosvalet, from her book titled "Sugar Spells," originally published in 2025

[dernarrleid]

liked for a surprised! / @mad-hunts

It's hard for Kenzou to hide it, though one could say he wasn't hiding anything. Not for lack of trying. It's been ages since he was able to have someone... close. Have his hands planted in the empty space between Barton's lower back and the wall, fingers dig into the exposed flesh under his shirt when the thigh wedged between his legs shifts. He's a little shorter, but he makes up for it with a slight lift on his front soles, gentle (enthusiastic) push against the wall for balance. The arms slung around his shoulders make him dizzy as the weight grounds him to the reality that they are definitely heading toward dangerous territory. He remembers giving the man a sedative just a few weeks ago, bemoaning his decision though ultimately deciding it's just one of those things that comes with the territory. Seeing the man thrash like that—a patient in general, Kenzou loathes having to make the difficult choice, with him it's worse and he knows why. Barton drives him crazy with how attentive he is. It's normal for a doctor, but his own experience in Germany led him down the path of cynicism as far as other colleagues were concern.

He tastes good, Kenzou thinks. He doesn't know where the thought came from, but when Barton's tongue locks with his, and saliva that pooled around them drips from his chin, he can't help but think how sweet it is. He pulls back slightly, can only open his eyes enough to see how blown Barton's irises are. He's studied the phenomenon, they both have enough to be everything short of fucking in the quaint locker room of the hospital's fourth floor. It still marvels him that Barton is capable of such reactions, and Kenzou knows it's strange to assume the man's intent behind it all. Maybe to him it's all quick and will go by as fast as their hips grind into each other. (Hell, his ex fiancé even thought his overthinking ruined what little time he did have to make her feel good.) The way he feels drawn to him even in a city (damn the city, this hospital for Christ sake) full of people he'd much rather not be associated with, it's truly a miracle.

Kenzou's hands wonder along the man's body, grabbing handfuls of his ass, kneading what he could hold to control the rhythm before he finished sooner than he needed. It's all about making the other man feel like this is worth it. He groans when his tongue knicks one of Barton's teeth in their bid to get the other to break contact. Kenzou could barely breathe before he concedes, lips immediately finding the different crevices of his neck that make him jolt. His own belt was in tact but Barton's were undone by Kenzou sometime during the kissing. His pursuit down, down, down, leads him to the next conclusion floating around in the haze of his brain. He all but drops to is knees, manhandling one of his slim legs over his shoulder, the weight of his cock pressing against his forehead while he takes in his scent once more.

Kenzou's tongue licks up from the deepest it can go in his pants that aren't fully undone, to the tip. He does this again, making his way back down just to come back up slower. It's from there, where Kenzou is slowly feeding Barton's cock to himself, each inch gliding over his tongue with a warmth that reaches his toes, that he feels even mildly satisfied. He imagines doing to laying down, and mourns the lack of time they may have had if he simply asked the man out like a normal person, yet he maybe there's a charm in these kinds of frantic, quick moments he'll miss. He certainly catalogues each fit of stifled moans as a plus for their encounter. Fingers that were once at his back caressed the top of his thigh, arm tucked under to give him leverage of any kind over just how much he can take. He bobs his head to match the uncontrolled roll of Barton's hips, pulling back when he feels his cock twitch on his tongue.

"You can do it," Kenzou says panting. His eyes look up to find the most sinful expression and wonders how he must look too. He gives him an innocent smile, betrayed by the lick across his spit and cum slicked lips. "My throat, you can... fuck it, I can take it, don't worry."

[dernarrleid]

sex on the brain, who wants a blowjob :/

[dernarrleid]

TELEGRAM FROM @yeonban READS: maybe he's having a bad day. / Tobias for Grimmer! He's looking to gauge Grimmer's opinion on murderers based on his/their morals or lack thereof

For Wolfgang, it's not about the blood or volume of viscera caking the concrete path. It's even about the profile he can piece to them. The little photocard clipped under a stack of paper outlining everything, from mild inconvenience to undoubted evil. It's more about the way he can see it them, like a phantom pain from a cut limb, he can see them. He swears they'll focus in view one day and jump right out to grab him. To drag him down to the only retribution he knows he deserves. They'll be waiting for him anyway, but in the land of the living Wolfgang swears as the day is long that all of the people he's murdered to this point are watching him fumble through life. Ah, it's better this way, his mind supplies endlessly. It's better that he thinks about them in small doses everyday than have the memories worm into the parts of Steiner he can't parse yet—

His thumb glides through the sweat dripping from his chin, the exertion of a mere two miles to beat his personal best, he feels a little embarrassed. Normally it would be encouraging? No, that's not the right word, more freeing? Indicative of his age and how far he's come since... then. That he has to do these things to feel the same thrill and sense of urgency is a damn good thing.

Wolfgang peddles a few steps to his bag, brand new and could probably be mistaken for a college student's (he's been pretty excited about it because of how trendy it looks). The water bottle (also brand new) is immediately emptied of all it's contents. A relief like no other. The combination of all these things, coupled with the ear phones connected to his real phone, Wolfgang is just extremely happy through random moments of the day because of things new gadgets. Which is why he doesn't shut Tobias down as quickly. The audio from his earphones muffled with the last half step on the jogging trail, but he heard enough of the mumbling to have an opinion. And he had enough experience with said opinion to know it deserves a proper answer. One that isn't floating through the air near nosey students and elderly doing tai chi.

"Au contraire! You and your probing may see a date from me this morning." Wolfgang says, dripping with sugar. "Of course that depends on Mister Bigshot's ability to speak with us commonfolk in a normal setting." The high stakes of Tobias's world amuse Wolfgang, but he's not crazy. One look at him near a casino and people can more or less assume his naivety in the way he walks. He attempted it to see if his hunch was correct; a night flouncing about, just curious. Even with the intent of being a simple bystander, he can't help but let it all sweep him away.

Of course it didn't end up making a dent in his finances and because of the aforementioned man, wasn't dealt with in his pursuit to play with pay. "I'd send you my address, but I assume you already know the color of my couch, so please invite yourself in before I regret saying those words!"

[dernarrleid]

@mannequinentity 's Manny!

[dernarrleid]

@dis--parity 's Alexandria!