#not genocide yet the bosses are HARD

[st4ngray]

Let justice be done.

Also some sketches but I’m not particularly proud of them so hiding them in read more-

[delulustateofmind]

Can My Friend Join?

Your boyfriend wants his murderer of a best friend to join your relationship. You'll do that for him, right?

Yan!SatoSugu x Reader

Part two

TW: Yandere Behaviors, dubcon/noncon?, Manipulation, SatoSugu, Potential grammatical/spelling errors, oral/fingering (f! receiving), Trapping/love bombing. MDNI

WC: 5.2k

You see, it wasn’t totally unlike your boyfriend to make crazy decisions.

Satoru was rash, impulsive, yet completely and utterly in love with you in a way that made it hard to say no to him. And he always knew how to work that to his advantage. You’d let him get away with just about anything—like buying a penthouse in Shibuya without even stepping foot in it, or whisking you off on spontaneous trips for “work” that had your boss threatening to fire you every time you gave him a last-minute call about your absence.

Crazy decisions were his specialty, after all. Including the craziest one of all: dating you, a non sorcerer, that was not a well-kept secret from his clan.

And now, his most recent decision was leaving you staring at him in stunned disbelief.

“Come on, baby, he’s going to therapy,” Satoru murmured into your ear, his arms snug around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. His voice was soft, almost coaxing, as he peppered gentle kisses along the curve of your neck. “You remember Sugu, right? You even mentioned you had a little crush on him before we started dating.”

Suguru Geto. The man who’d slaughtered a village, started a cult, and declared genocide on nonsorcerers like you.

But now, according to Satoru, he was “better.” Redeemed, even. Whatever that meant. He wasn’t a deranged cult leader anymore, apparently. Therapy had fixed him. Or at least, that’s what Satoru was claiming with his usual breezy confidence.

“My love,” you began softly, setting the tea you’d been preparing down to turn and face him. His cerulean eyes shone with that familiar affection, the corners crinkling slightly as he gazed down at you like you hung the moon. It made your chest ache. “I know you two… had a thing. But why does he need to be a part of our relationship?”

You tried to keep your tone gentle, like you were trying to reason with him. Because, honestly, you were.

Satoru tilted his head, his grin widening just enough to tell you he’d been prepared for this question. “Mmm, well,” he started, the teasing lilt of his voice softening. “You were there for me, weren’t you? You’ve kept me grounded—saved me, even.” He leaned in to nuzzle against your cheek. “I figured… maybe you could do the same for him. Help him down a better path, you know? Keep an eye on him.”

Your heart sank.

“And,” he added with a sheepish laugh, his blush deepening as his hand rubbed the back of his neck, “well, he was actually the one who suggested it.”

That had your stomach twisting uncomfortably. You searched his face for answers, for some sign that this wasn’t as serious as it sounded. But all you found was that lovesick smile of his.

And you knew.

Satoru still had feelings for Suguru. He’d never said it outright, but the signs were there. The way his voice softened when he spoke of him. The wistful, almost mournful glint in his eyes whenever Suguru’s name came up. And, of course, the times he’d accidentally murmured Suguru’s name in moments of intimacy with you.

Your throat felt tight.

“Satoru…” You struggled to find the words, to balance the storm of emotions swirling in your chest. Jealousy. Confusion. Heartbreak. And, strangely enough, pity.

“It won’t change anything between us,” he said quickly, like he could see your doubts forming. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing soothingly against your skin. “I promise. You’re my person—my love. I just… I can’t let him go again. Not like before.”

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “And what if I can’t do this? What if I can’t… share you?”

Satoru’s expression softened, his usual playful confidence replaced with something raw and pleading. “Please,” he murmured, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. It wasn’t like him to plead. To beg. “Just think about it, okay? You won’t be home alone as much anymore when I’m out on missions. With Suguru back, there’ll be two strongest sorcerers. That means I won’t have to work or be on call as much. I’m thinking about us, baby.”

His words were so earnest, so filled with affection, that they pressed against your chest like a weight. You should’ve voiced your opinions, should’ve argued, but the guilt crept in before you could. Satoru had done so much for you—letting you live with him rent-free, covering your schooling, and showering you with a kind of love that had felt impossible in a world where you were so much weaker than him.

How could you say no to him? Not after everything.

So, what if you were allowing some murderer into your relationship? Satoru said he was better now. Satoru loved you. He wouldn’t steer you wrong… right?

You bit your lip, glancing away before nodding hesitantly. “Can we… take things slow, Toru?” Your voice was soft, almost unsure, as you sheepishly met his gaze.

Satoru’s face lit up with relief, his cerulean eyes shining so brightly it was almost blinding. “Oh, of course, baby. As slow as you need to. I know I can be a bit… eager, heh,” he said with a nervous laugh, his hands cupping your cheeks tenderly. Then, with a playful grin, he squished them together, molding your lips into silly fishy shapes.

“There it is! Cute as ever,” he teased, leaning closer, his voice softer now. “But I still love you. You know that, right?”

You nodded automatically, leaning into his touch despite the unease swirling in your stomach. Perhaps, you were overthinking this. Relationships need a bit of spice, right?

“I know,” you murmured, forcing a small smile. “I love you too.”

The words almost came automatically, yet your anxiety continued to ring alarming bells.

He grinned, his usual teasing confidence returning as he kissed your forehead. “That’s my baby. I knew you’d understand.”

And so, within a week, Suguru Geto moved in.

It was awkward at first. You weren’t sure how to act around him—this man who carried a dark, complicated history yet exuded a calm, almost disarming aura. Offering shy smiles felt like the extent of your bravery, and more often than not, you retreated to the sanctuary of your bedroom.

At least Suguru had the decency to move into the guest room initially. That small gesture was a relief in itself. And thankfully, with Satoru and Suguru being sorcerers, you were rarely alone with him. At least not yet.

But Suguru was... considerate. You couldn’t deny that. He had a quiet, almost effortless charm, and while you had your issues—big issues—you couldn’t ignore the fact that he was a handsome, beautiful man.

“Ah, do you need help?” Suguru asked one day, his deep voice breaking the silence as he spotted you reaching for the Christmas decorations tucked away on the highest shelf of the closet.

You froze for a moment, clutching at the edge of the shelf. “No, I’ll be alright… thank you,” you murmured, your voice almost too shy.

Suguru tilted his head, his dark eyes softening as he took a step closer. “It’s no trouble. Here.” Without waiting for permission, he reached up effortlessly, his height making quick work of retrieving the box.

You thanked him quietly, clutching the box as you avoided his gaze. His lips quirked into a faint smile, but he said nothing, stepping back to give you space.

Then there were the times he helped without hesitation, like during grocery trips.

Satoru would inevitably dart off down the aisles, hunting for sweets or whatever caught his attention. Suguru, on the other hand, stuck to your side, the picture of calm efficiency. He’d scan the list you held, nodding thoughtfully before reaching for items on the shelves—always grabbing your favorite brands without you needing to say a word.

“You cook often, don’t you?” he remarked once, glancing at the cart as he placed a box of your preferred pasta into it.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, startled by how observant he was. “It’s… kind of relaxing.”

He hummed in agreement, his expression neutral but not unkind. “I can see that. I’ll have to try some of your cooking sometime.”

The comment left you flustered, unsure how to respond. Satoru would’ve teased you mercilessly, but Suguru simply kept moving, scanning the shelves like he wasn’t even aware of the small storm brewing in your chest.

It was moments like these—small, thoughtful gestures and quiet interactions—that left you unsettled. Suguru wasn’t what you expected. You’d braced yourself for someone dangerous, cold, someone you couldn’t trust. But instead, he was... kind. Maybe too kind.

And that was what unnerved you the most.

Because every time you caught his lingering gaze or noticed the way he seemed to effortlessly fit into your routines, you couldn’t help but wonder: Was he doing this for Satoru? Or was he doing it for you?

It started off slow. Like a light sprinkle before the storm. 

Satoru was still the same as ever—the fun-loving boyfriend, full of laughter and mischief. He’d press kisses to your cheek, wrap you in his arms, and tease you in that playful way that made your heart flutter. But lately, his words carried a strange edge, a hint of something you couldn’t quite place.

“Maybe start showing Sugu a bit of love,” he teased one evening, nuzzling against your neck as you brushed your teeth. “He’s trying, y’know. Don’t be difficult, baby.”

You froze for a moment, the brush stilling in your hand as you quickly spit out the toothpaste. That… hurt. His tone was light, but the implication stung. Was he disappointed in you?

Still, you managed a tight smile and nodded, swallowing your unease. “I’ll try.”

Satoru grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “That’s my baby.”

But then Suguru began to be more… involved.

It wasn’t anything overt at first. He’d sit quietly in the living room while you watched TV, occasionally commenting on the plot like a polite guest. Not as the boyfriend he was supposed to be, that you didn’t want him to be. He’d help with household chores without being asked, his quiet competence a stark contrast to Satoru’s chaotic energy.

But there was something about the way his presence lingered—like a shadow stretching further than it should.

“Tired?” he asked one evening, his voice like honey as you struggled to keep your eyes open on the couch. You felt him sit down beside you, close enough that his warmth seeped into your side.

You nodded, your words slurring slightly. “Yeah… long day.”

Suguru reached out, his fingers brushing against your temple as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was gentle, almost tender, but his dark eyes… they hid something.

“You should rest more,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Satoru worries about you.”

You blinked, struggling to process his words. “He does?”

Suguru smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course. We both do.”

The way he said it—we—sent a strange chill down your spine.

As the days passed, the small, unsettling moments began to pile up.

Suguru had a way of always being there, always watching. When you left a room, you’d turn to find his gaze following you. When you spoke, he listened so intently it felt like he was dissecting your every word.

And Satoru, who’d always been possessive in his teasing way, started pushing boundaries in ways he hadn’t before.

One evening, as you tried to excuse yourself to your bedroom after dinner, Satoru caught your wrist, pulling you back to the living room where Suguru sat quietly.

“Don’t run off so quick,” he said, his grin wide but his grip firm. “We’re a family now, aren’t we? Stay with us for a bit.”

Suguru looked up from his tea, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Satoru’s right,” he said softly, his lips curving into a small, almost inviting smile. “It’s nice when we’re all together.”

The way they looked at you—Satoru’s bright gaze brimming with love, Suguru’s dark eyes filled with something deeper, darker—made you feel trapped.

And then, Satoru had to leave.

He was off to Kenya for a mission with a student, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the apartment felt… quieter. You’d thought, perhaps foolishly, that Suguru would be sent off somewhere too, leaving you to breathe for a moment, to process.

But no.

Suguru stayed.

The first few nights felt strange, the absence of Satoru’s boundless energy a sharp contrast to Suguru’s quiet, deliberate presence. He wasn’t pushy—if anything, he gave you more space than usual, offering soft smiles and polite conversation. But there was always something in the air, something unspoken, something that made the silence between you feel heavier than it should.

And then, one night, as you lay in what felt like a bed too big without Satoru’s warmth beside you, you felt it—a hand wrapping around your waist, firm yet gentle, pulling you back against a solid chest.

Your breath hitched as a woodsy, earthy scent filled your nose, inky dark hair brushing against your shoulders.

Your heart sank once again, something it’s been doing a little too much as of late. 

“You’re awake,” Suguru murmured softly, his voice warm and low, like he’d been waiting for you to notice. His lips ghosted against your cheek in a feather-light kiss, making your skin prickle. “Satoru said I should join you. Keep you safe.”

Safe? The word felt foreign, almost cruel, as if it was meant to comfort you when it did the exact opposite.

“Suguru,” you said, your voice trembling as you tried to pull away, but his arm around your waist tightened, holding you in place.

“Shh,” he soothed, his breath warm against your ear. “It’s okay. I know it feels strange, but Satoru trusts me to look after you. He said you get lonely when he’s away.”

Your stomach twisted. This wasn’t Satoru’s doing—at least, not entirely. This was Suguru, using Satoru’s words, his trust, to inch closer, to blur the lines you’d been desperately trying to hold onto.

“You don’t have to do this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His hand moved, sliding up to rest lightly against your ribs, his touch slow and deliberate. “I want to,” he murmured. “You deserve someone to care for you, even when Satoru can’t. That’s what we agreed on, isn’t it?”

You froze. Agreed on?

The realization hit you like a wave, cold and suffocating. This wasn’t just Satoru’s idea. This wasn’t just about keeping you “safe” or “happy.” This was part of something bigger, something the two of them had decided for you, without you.

“I don’t think—” you started, but Suguru cut you off, his voice still maddeningly calm.

“You don’t have to think,” he said softly, almost kindly, as his fingers brushed against your jaw, tilting your head slightly so he could press a kiss to your temple. “Just go to sleep, yeah?”

But the way his grip on you remained firm, the way his body pressed so closely against yours, made it abundantly clear that this wasn’t a request.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a frantic rhythm that you were sure he could feel where his arm wrapped around your waist. Go to sleep? How could you possibly sleep with this man lying so close, his breath steady against the back of your neck, his warmth invading every inch of your space?

Suguru shifted slightly, his arm pulling you tighter against him as though sensing your discomfort. “You’re tense,” he murmured, his tone carrying a strange gentleness. “It’s okay to relax. I’m here.”

His words sent shivers down your body and tendrils of anxiety in your mind, and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to calm down. But how could you relax when your instincts screamed that something was wrong? That something about him, about this situation, was profoundly off?

You tried to focus on your breathing, hoping it would drown out the sound of your racing thoughts. But every inhale carried the faint, woodsy scent of him—so different from Satoru’s familiar, comforting smell. It was calming, yet suffocating all at once.

A small voice crept in your mind, you shouldn’t feel calm. 

Suguru hummed softly, a low, melodic sound that sent another wave of unease through you. “You smell nice,” he said, almost absentmindedly. His nose brushed against your hair, and you froze as he inhaled deeply. “Like home.”

The words were meant to be reassuring, you thought. But they felt wrong, invasive, like he was claiming a piece of you that wasn’t his to take.

You wanted to say something—anything—but the words caught in your throat. And in that silence, Suguru’s hand shifted, moving from your ribs to rest lightly against your stomach, the weight of it grounding and possessive.

“You’re safe with me,” he whispered, his voice softer now, almost tender. Almost loving. “I’ll keep you safe. Just sleep, okay?”

Your throat tightened, and your breathing came faster as you tried to steady yourself. Safe. He kept using that word, as though repeating it would make it true. As if he were tricking your mind into thinking it was true. 

But how could you feel safe when every instinct in your body screamed at you to run?

Suguru’s grip didn’t waver, and the steady rhythm of his breathing filled the silence, lulling you into a state of uneasy stillness. You didn’t know how long you lay there, rigid and wide-eyed, before exhaustion began to weigh on you.

Your body betrayed you before your mind could catch up. Slowly, reluctantly, your eyes fluttered shut, and your breathing evened out.

You stirred awake to a sensation so surreal, so tender, that in your dreamlike haze, you convinced yourself it was Satoru.

The soft brush of hair between your thighs, a large, calloused hand rested on the fat of your thighs, keeping your legs open, as your eyes were slowly opening from sleep. 

You felt his tongue drift up you sopping slit, moving to circle around your bundle of nerves, a whine escaping your lips as you shifted a little only for a warm hand to press against your abdomen to keep you from moving as he continued to dive deep into your cunt, his tongue switching from spelling a name on your sensitive clit to fucking your tight dripping heat. You couldn’t help but muffle your moans by biting the sheets. 

“Toru…” You whimpered out in pathetic small breaths. “Feels…s’good” it wasn’t like Satoru to be this in-depth with eating you out. It felt like he was mapping out your entire insides as he slowly inserted a finger into your dripping mess. 

You felt a nip on your inner thigh, causing a whine and for you to finally open your eyes. 

“Wrong boyfriend,” Suguru murmured, his voice a low, velvety hum that sent a shiver rippling down your spine. His dark eyes gleamed with amusement as he hovered just above your pussy that clenched around his fat finger that curled in just the right spot, your gummy walls clenching, no, greedily sucking in. His lips curled into a faint, knowing smirk. 

He tilted his head, his inky hair brushing against your trembling thighs as he leaned back down, his movements deliberate, controlled, as though savoring every moment of your reaction. His breath ghosted over your poor pussy, slowly licking up the mess you were leaking as he pushed his finger knuckle deep inside you, before slowly, teasingly adding another one of his thick fingers inside. Compared to Satoru’s thin long fingers, his was different, it was almost mind-numbing as your poor cunny tightened at the sudden intrusion of another finger.  

“Suguru” You panted out. “I-” and a gasp left your lips as you felt him curl both his fingers. Hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars, no colors, all sorts of stars and colors, as he pried you open. Your mouth left agape as you tried to think of anything besides the pleasure and the sickening wet sounds that were filling the bedroom. 

You shouldn’t be enjoying this. You mind sang to you. But god, did it feel so good. 

“Mmmm, such a sweet pussy” he said softly before lightly sucking on your nub, earning sweet moans and whispers from your lips “Want me to stop, pretty?”  he said softly as he released your poor abused little clit with a loud pop. Offering a small kitten lick as you were trying to form a coherent sentence. 

“Come on, baby girl, use your words f’me.” His fingers slipping out of your slickened folds that caused you to look down at him with half-lidded eyes and a pout. You were so fucked.  

“You need me don’t you? Need me to help you?” He said softly as he pulled away, his big warm hand cupping your heat as you bucked your hips, his thumb lightly grazing your clit, toying with it softly. His chin glistened with your juices as he moved close to your face. 

It didn’t help that he was so devastatingly attractive—so effortlessly pretty, yet undeniably handsome. Every sharp line of his jaw, every curve of his lips, and the way his dark eyes seemed to pierce straight through you made it impossible to look away, even when you wanted to. Even when you knew you should.

“Give me a kiss, just one little kiss, and then I’ll let you cum. Okay, pretty?” Suguru hummed softly, his gaze lingering on your plump, red lips, his voice almost syrupy in its coaxing. His dark eyes sparkled with amusement as he took in the teary-eyed expression you offered him. “Can you do that for me?”

You wanted to fight him. Wanted to kick him off, shove him away, bite that insufferable smirk right off his face.

But he made you feel so good.

You were warm, fuzzy, and completely disconnected from yourself. Every logical thought dissolved into the haze of pleasure he’d wrapped you in. Your body betrayed you, nodding mindlessly like some desperate, needy thing you hardly recognized.

“One kiss?” you murmured meekly, your voice trembling.

Suguru’s grin widened, predatory and oh-so smug. “Just one,” he purred, watching as your eyes flickered away from him.

That’s when you saw it.

The camera.

Nestled discreetly in the corner of the room, its cold, unblinking lens stared back at you. Your stomach dropped, the haze clearing just enough for panic to creep in.

Suguru followed your gaze, and when he saw what had caught your attention, he chuckled—a low, dark sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Oh,” he said smoothly, as though you’d stumbled upon a delightful surprise. “You found the camera.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours, his voice a whisper now. “Say hi to Toru.”

Before you could react, his lips crashed against yours, the kiss fierce and consuming, stealing the breath from your lungs. It wasn’t gentle—it was possessive, demanding, a declaration that left no room for resistance. His hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you in place as his tongue brushed against yours, coaxing a response you couldn’t deny.

Every fleeting thought of resistance melted under the heat of his touch, leaving you utterly at his mercy, the world narrowing to the overwhelming intensity of him.

That fuzzy, dreamlike feeling reeled in your mind, spinning you further into a haze. The high you were on didn’t feel natural—it was too consuming, too overwhelming. Even after you came for the nth time, your body still burned with need, craving more despite the exhaustion creeping into your limbs.

You glanced at Suguru through the haze, his expression soft, almost tender, as he leaned down to scoop you into his arms. His strength was effortless, and the gentle smile that tugged at his lips felt entirely out of place with the aching mess he’d left you in.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” he hummed softly, cradling you as though you weighed nothing.

Your body refused to cooperate, too spent and trembling to do anything but lay limply in his embrace. Resigning yourself to your inability to fight, you rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your cheek. It was almost comforting if not for the gnawing unease beneath the surface of your mind.

As he carried you to the bathroom, his voice broke the silence, low and soothing. “Satoru’s coming home today,” he said, his tone so calm, so casual, that it sent a chill down your spine. “He’s going to be so proud of the progress we made, yeah?”

The words hung in the air, their weight suffocating.

The day stretched on in a blur, and though Suguru remained by your side, tending to you with a gentleness that felt far too intimate, you couldn’t shake the words he’d spoken.

Satoru’s coming home today. He’s going to be so proud of the progress we made.

Each passing moment only tightened the knot in your stomach, the uneasy anticipation building to a crescendo by the time the front door opened with Satoru’s familiar sing-song call.

“My sweet sugar bears, I’m home!”

His voice echoed through the apartment, bright and teasing as always, but it carried a weight that hadn’t been there before. You stiffened, clutching the edges of the blanket Suguru had wrapped around you as you sat on the couch, your heart pounding in your chest.

Suguru, seated beside you with a calm, almost serene expression, stood and moved to greet him. “Welcome back,” he said, his tone warm and inviting.

Satoru appeared moments later, his bright cerulean eyes sweeping over the room before landing on you. His grin widened, mischievous and utterly unapologetic.

“There’s my girl,” he said, striding over and crouching in front of you. His hand reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. “Missed you.”

You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say as his gaze lingered on you, almost too intently.

Then he turned his attention to Suguru, who was now leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed as he watched the interaction unfold.

“And you,” Satoru said, his grin taking on a sharper edge. “You really outdid yourself this time, Sugu.”

Suguru inclined his head slightly, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m glad you think so. She was… responsive.”

Your stomach twisted at the way they spoke, as if you weren’t even there—or worse, as if you were some sort of project they���d been collaborating on.

Satoru’s attention flicked back to you, and his grin softened into something almost affectionate. “I loved the video,” he said, his voice low as he leaned closer, his breath brushing against your ear. “You looked so perfect for him, baby. It made me jealous.”

Your blood ran cold.

“The—video?” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling as your mind raced to catch up.

Satoru tilted his head, his grin widening again as he straightened. “Oh, come on, don’t play coy now,” he teased, reaching out to ruffle your hair like you were some pet he was fond of. “You knew about the camera, didn’t you? Suguru said you even looked right at it.”

Suguru’s chuckle was low, almost inaudible, but it caused your chest to tighten. Throat to clench up, you suddenly wanted to cry. 

“We’ll have to make more next time,” Satoru continued, his tone light, almost playful, like he was discussing something as mundane as dinner plans. His grin stretched wide, carefree, but his words carried a weight that left your chest tight. “But don’t worry—I’ll be in the next one. No way I’m missing out again.”

The floor beneath you might as well have disappeared. The weight of their words pressed down on you, heavy and suffocating, and your heart hammered as panic welled in your chest.

“No,” you said, your voice trembling. “No, this isn’t… This isn’t right. You can’t just—”

Suguru stepped forward, his movements unhurried, deliberate. His dark eyes locked onto yours, unreadable yet brimming with a quiet intensity that made your skin prickle. He stopped just behind Satoru, his presence looming, steady.

“We’re a team, after all,” he said softly, his voice smooth and calm, like he was explaining something obvious. “It’s only fair we share.”

“No,” you said again, louder this time. The word came out sharp, cutting through the air like a blade, though your hands trembled as you clenched them into fists. “This isn’t fair. This isn’t normal, Satoru, Suguru—this isn’t love.”

For a moment, the room seemed to freeze, the weight of your words hanging in the tense silence.

Suguru’s lips curled into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Is that what you think?” he asked, his tone soft, almost disappointed. He tilted his head slightly, his dark hair spilling over his shoulder as he regarded you with something akin to pity. “You think this isn’t love?”

“Yes,” you said, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your confidence. “This isn’t right. You’re asking too much—this isn’t something I can give.”

Suguru took another step closer, his gaze unwavering. “And what do you think love is, then?” he asked, his voice low, coaxing. “Is it not trust? Devotion? Sacrifice?” He leaned in slightly, his presence suffocating as his words wrapped around you like a vice. “After everything Satoru and I have done for you, everything we’ve given you as of late—are you really saying we don’t deserve your love in return?”

Your breath caught in your throat, the weight of his words sinking into your chest like stones. You had to swallow back your tears. “That’s not what I—”

“But it is,” Suguru interrupted, his voice never rising, never breaking its calm, steady cadence. “You’re saying no to us. To him. To me. After everything we’ve done to keep you safe, to give you the life you have now.”

You’d be nothing without them. You almost owe your life to Satoru alone. 

His words twisted in your mind, sharp and cutting, making you question the thoughts you’d clung to just moments before. He stepped even closer, his dark eyes softening, his tone shifting to something almost tender. “Do you really think it’s fair to push us away when all we want is to love you? To care for you? To protect you?”

Your lips parted, but the words died in your throat.

Satoru crouched slightly to meet your gaze, his cerulean eyes wide and impossibly soft. “Don’t you love me?” he asked, his voice heartbreakingly gentle. “Because if you do, baby, then you can love us.”

Suguru nodded, his smile warming into something deceptively kind. “We’re not asking for much,” he murmured. “Just for you to trust us. To let us take care of you. Isn’t that what love is about?”

The room spun, their words swirling in your mind, drowning out the panic that had gripped you moments before. Their voices, so soothing, so insistent, chipped away at your resolve, making you question everything you thought you knew.

“Shh, you’re cryin’,” Satoru said softly, brushing his fingers against your cheek, his touch gentle as he wiped your hot frustrated tears. “Don’t overthink it, baby. Just let us love you. That’s all we want.”

Suguru’s hand came to rest lightly on your shoulder, his grip firm but not forceful, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You don’t want to disappoint us, do you? Satoru has given you everything. Don’t you think you owe us this much?”

The words struck deep, guilt twisting in your chest as you struggled to breathe.

They loved you. This is love, right?

[nanamineedstherapy]

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Headcanons

Controversial Opinion: The Anti-Sugar Baby Manifesto (Tumblr/Ao3)

Long Fics

Currently Ongoing Series

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Summary: Staying never guaranteed closeness, and Geto learned that the hard way. When jealousy turned to shame, he found himself drifting from Gojo, too scared to bridge the widening gap. Now, years later, Geto is determined to restore what they once had—only to find that Gojo has moved on with Nanami. With Nanako and Mimiko by his side, Geto hatches a plan to tear them apart and reclaim what was once his. But love, like everything else, isn't so simple.

Or

Suguru finds himself entangled in a web of his own making, unsure whether he’s trying to fix what he broke or just ruin what Gojo has built. Meanwhile, Nanako and Mimiko’s meddling could have consequences none of them are ready for.

It's turning into a full-blown JJK Rewrite at this point with Sukuna being sealed in Shibuya!

Mouth to Meat - Cannibal Yakuza Sukuna X [Retracted] F!Reader - (Tumblr/Ao3)

Summary: Dr. Y/N L/N is tasked with profiling Ryomen Sukuna, a feared yakuza boss known for his violent tendencies and taste for human flesh. Through a series of therapy sessions, she gains his trust—or so it seems. But Sukuna isn’t the only predator in the room. Behind Y/N’s professional demeanor hides a secret far darker than even Sukuna’s sins. When the masks drop, it’s clear: monsters don’t always look like him.

Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage - F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader X Gojo Satoru X Nanami Kento - (Tumblr/Ao3)

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

Crack Humor Oneshots

The Gojo & Geto KFC Break up: A Reenactment - (Tumblr/Ao3)

Help! I'm a Woman & I got my two Male Boyfriends Pregnant - (Tumblr/Ao3) Summary: You got your boyfriends Gojo Satoru & Ryomen Sukuna Preganat; now they are spirling, thinking you are going to leave them. Send jesus!

Oneshot Fics - Completed

Fluff

Bubble Butt Problems - Nanami X Reader X Gojo - (Tumblr/Ao3)

Smudges & Giggles - Sukuna X Reader - (Tumblr/Ao3)

Sips of Solitude - Gojo's Drunk Birthday Adventure - Nanago- (Tumblr/Ao3)

Angst

In Shadows of his Heart - Watching Megumi Fushiguro fall in love with someone else - (Tumblr/Ao3) Silent Whispers - A Toge Inumaki Story - Inumaki x Reader - (Tumblr/Ao3) Through Tears & Determination: Lovely Runner meets Nanami Kento - (Tumblr/Ao3)

Smut

Velvet Sin & Clandestine Vows - Nanami x Billionaire F!Reader - (Tumblr/Ao3)

Asks - Open

I love writing angst and mostly dark stuff as well as fluff, so feel free to send ideas you'd like me to explore. I'd be happy to tag you if you allow me.

Not yet good with smut, though, as I'm still new to this.

For personal reasons, I'd refrain from any kind of incest or grooming relationship, but murder & genocides are fine. Hahahaha.

[number-1-kuaidul-fanboy]

Which final antagonist (Bakura/Zorc, Nightshroud, Z-one, Don Thousand, Z-arc, or Ai) was your favorite or do you find most compelling?

Getting this ask made me realise that I don’t actually like any of the final antagonists that much apart from Ai and sort of Darkness. But I'm gonna talk about them anyways because I enjoy doing these all series posts and declaring which series did the best at a particular element. Because yes. All series. I’m a Bridge era fan so I’m including Otes from Sevens. Though no one from Go Rush since we don’t know who the final antagonist will be yet. This is also a long one (3 pages long in Google Docs) with spoilers and critique for every series so I'll put the wall of text under a read more:

Zorc is boring. I have nothing else to add.

He’s just a giant monster for the heroes to defeat with no personality. Which is perfectly fine for the story but not very interesting on its own as a character.

Bakura meanwhile upsets me.

It's not because he’s necessarily a bad character though. It's because of how the narrative treats him, and the fact that his story has elements that I find incredibly problematic and upsetting. I am not saying Bakura was right for wanting to destroy the world, let me make that clear. I am saying that the narrative of a villain who the narrative deems as irredeemably evil and “must die” having the backstory of his entire village being murdered before his eyes as a child to in order to create weapons of mass destruction for the corrupt monarchy who ordered genocide on said village in the first place because everyone in it was “pure evil” and thus “deserved it anyways” is a narrative that I raise an eyebrow at. And if anything, it felt pointless to throw on. Bakura would have been completely serviceable as just pure evil with no backstory for me. He would’ve lacked substance on his own, but the way he was built up throughout the series and affected the other characters, like some later villains I’m gonna discuss, would have been compelling enough to at least be serviceable. This backstory though just adds all this complexity that the anime clearly wasn’t equipped to handle and in my opinion, fumbled completely. I still enjoy the final arc overall but THIS is one of those things that bothers me the more and more I think about and feels like an instance of the writers not realising their implications. Which as a writer myself, absolutely can happen by accident. I am not accusing anyone on the writing team of anything malicious here. But as a result of this, Bakura's character to me, especially as someone who doesn’t go back to the OG Duel Monsters that often, is unfortunately just tied to this issue for me.

Nightshroud, or Darkness as I know him in the sub meanwhile, is probably the most effective villain to me out of this set.

He's just a pure evil monster so again like Zorc, I'm not interested in him as a character but as a being of pure evil who represents and spreads all the terrible things in the world he works well. Also the impact he has on the characters, especially in season 4 where Sho, Asuka, and Manjome are essentially torturing themselves with their own graduations anxieties in Darkness's world is one I find to be incredibly compelling. So Darkness as a character is not interesting but what he represents and the effect he has on the other characters is very compelling, as is the Judai vs Darkness duel of season 4 which is subjectively, my favourite final boss duel of the franchise.

Z-One is huge missed potential.

I think even the die hard 5Ds fans agree on that one. He was initially set up to be this older jaded version of Yusei from the future who had to turn to more destructive methods to save the world and that concept, as much as I famously do not like time travel, is GREAT. It’s the same plot The Lego Movie 2 later did, in my opinion, to great effect. But 5Ds chickened out of this amazing concept. They couldn’t commit to making Z-One that future version of Yusei (who wouldn’t exist after the ultimate ending of 5Ds anyways so it wouldn’t have even destroyed Yusei’s character) and instead just someone who looks like him which is not nearly as interesting. So. Z-One. Great concept that 5Ds chickened out of. The duel itself was decent though and a good finale to Ark Cradle, if just for Yusei on a flying motorcycle.

Don Thousand is certainly a guy who exists.

He’s kind of like Darkness but without the profound impact on the other characters or any representation of a deeper concept. The way he uses Vector is mildly investing and the way he twisted the Barians’ lives to lead to them becoming his pawns is very interesting and pretty much the sort of thing I want Studio Bridge to do with the Creator and the Velgearians in Go Rush come to think of it but anyways, back on topic. Other than those elements, Don Thousand feels a bit underdeveloped and is ultimately just there to be this big bad that all three warring factions of the show: Earth, Barianworld, and Astralworld, put aside their differences to defeat which is really cool conceptually and it's a fun duel so I can forgive Don Thousand being boring on his own.

Z-Arc’s god awful overly long duel is my villain origin story.

I like Zarc’s story in the flashbacks we see. I think conceptually he’s a great idea. So the honestly flat character we get in the duel, lacking all of the depth those flashbacks gave Zarc, was very disappointing. And the actual duel being so overly long drove me up a wall. Also de-aged baby Layra being a vessel for Zarc is one of the worst instances of a show, let alone Yugioh or even Arc V, committing character assassination that I’ve ever seen. Z-Arc is a great concept, and that scene of Yuya being able to relate to and understand him in the final duel is phenomenal, but the duel and the character in it is just terrible to me.

Ai by contrast to all these other guys is my favourite character in Yugioh VRAINS and definitely my favourite of the characters in this set by a wide margin.

I firmly believe Ai is a comic relief character done right as IN THE SUB he’s actually funny without taking away from the seriousness of any scene, while also being a character with depth, complexities, and motivations of his own outside of whatever the protagonist wants. His final duel with Playmaker is very emotionally impactful and definitely the objective best of these final boss duels, even if it isn’t exactly “fun” to rewatch due to how hard-hitting emotionally it is, and other problems I personally have with VRAINS that aren’t relevant to this discussion. Point is that the series set up the characters of and connection between Playmaker and Ai so well that by the time the series develops Ai into Playmaker's final opponent, it feels earned and the emotions really hit. Ai is just very well set up as the final antagonist in general. It’s potentially a surprise to the audience when he has his turn to villainy but it adds up with what the show presented us about his character beforehand. He’s well built up to. Unlike the next character-

Otes

Okay, that’s a bit misleading. I think there are sufficient hints before the finale to hint at Otes being a villain, and that it was a good idea on paper. The problem is how it happens. Pacing wise, it comes out of nowhere and unceremoniously cuts off another villain, Yuga Goha’s, arc, and not even through something that might be understandable like a duel. No. They duel and Yuga Goha DEFEATS Otes. And seemingly steals his memories to prevent him from being a problem. Only. Nope! Surprise! Otes is later revealed to be immune to the memory erasing effects of Monster Reborn because he apparently created the card (a revelation that may not even be true anymore) and kidnaps Yuga Goha, abruptly putting an end to his villainy to make way for Otes’s. Yuga Goha isn’t even brought back as a villain again later or made Otes’s underling or anything like that. His siblings, who he previously betrayed and stole memories from multiple times, just save him. That's a bit rushed, but it’s a nice moment so I can forgive it personally. My problem is that immediately afterwards, Yuga Goha simply agrees to join his siblings in their less relevant than the main cast’s contributions to defeat Otes, who by that point is left only a few episodes to be a full-blown villain. Yuga Goha and Otes would have both made great antagonists if it was paced better. But instead, Yuga Goha is suddenly shafted and redeemed (even if he still has a dark streak, it’s really only used comedically) at the speed of light and Otes barely gets any time to be a villain so they both just end up feeling like wasted potential. That said, Yuga vs Otes is a great duel, probably my favourite final boss duel in the franchise after Judai vs Darkness.

And that’s all the final bosses of every complete Yugioh anime so far. Overall I’d say that Z-Arc and Bakura are the only ones I don’t enjoy. Zorc is just a boring means to an end. Z-One and Otes (and Yuga Goha if you count him) had potential but while their duels are fun, they ultimately lacked substance. Don Thousand and Darkness are not characters, just means to an end but Don Thousand does his job serviceably and Darkness does his exceptionally well. And Ai is just the best one of this set in every single respect.

[beevean]

Lanolin: Ha! Nobody can criticize my shitty behavior because I'm a woman!

Lenore: Preach it bestie!

Annette: Get on my level bitches!

Oh so you just want me to die? :^)

Well, Lanolin and Annette really are similar. They are hard to like, with abrasive personalities and quick to insult and demean, but they are catered to by the characters and narrative because... they are cool, I guess? With their honest mistakes that could make them interestingly flawed never acknowledged. Compare Whisper and Tangle still sticking to Lanolin's side after the Silver incident with Richter developing a crush over the woman who insulted him for his lack of magic, which is directly tied to his trauma.

Well, Annette hasn't physically assaulted her friends yet. That makes her just a little bit better than Lanolin.

But which is worse: being solely defined by your trauma, or not having a trauma that could explain why you're such an asshole? :P

I'll give Lenore that at the very least, she was written to be a villain at first. You are meant to find her awful, even if in a "oh she's so cool when she plays Hector like a recorder, manipulate me into slavery too mommy <3" way. And then S4 forcibly sanitizes her so that we forget all of her crimes lol. But it's not quite the same thing.

Now, Alucard being the biggest turbo cunt to Trevor for no good reason, and Sypha justifying him because he has Bad Depression, unlike Trevor who has Funny Depression... now that's more in line with the other two. Which shows it's not about sexism.

(although yes I have read people say that it's sexist to genuinely hate Carmilla and Lenore to then stan for Dracula and Isaac. I do see their point, in a way - they all suck lmao. I think the difference is that Carmilla and especially Lenore hit too close at home to be liked even in a fictional sense, much like the assholes I mentioned above. A genocidal monster is hard to encounter IRL, and while they sadly exist they feel distant, they are menaces more than people; but pricks who believe they can boss you around without repercussions and lying abusers are everywhere in the world, sadly)

[trans-advice]

I'm a newly hatched egg and something I'm struggling with is I had a mom who was very supportive of the lgbtq+ until it came to her own kid. Like she had butch lesbians and femme gays as friends and I could talk to her about Elliot Page and Caitlyn Jenner transitioning. She even constantly told me it was fine if I was a lesbian. But whenever I would express my gender dysphoria to her, she would always shut it down with "it was always my dream to have a daughter" and "i kept having kids until I had a daughter". She put so much pressure on me to be more femme, to wear more makeup, to put on perfume, to wear dresses and skirts.

I also feel dumb for letting it affect me so much because I cut contact with her years ago for other reasons so why am I letting it bother me so much? And idk who to talk to about this and I feel dumb for bringing it up when there are people whose families are way worse than mine. I can't afford therapy.

Idk i'm just so confused.

1: your mother basically told you get entire relationship with you, including pregnancy, (including introducing you to her friends) was a relationship where you were constantly dehumanized & objectified the entire time, like waiting for a candy egg with pink paint to come out of a candy machine.

2: part of your self esteem as a trans person was seeing realistic examples of queerness via your mom's butch lesbian & femme gay friends.

3: the strictness of the gender binary reinforces the boss-worker heirarchy your mother had with you her child. This is why she felt so comfortable telling you that she ordered a girl as if you were a server who gave her a wrong item from the restaurant kitchen. Then, when she sees that doesn't get her anywhere, she does conversion torture on you, basically treating you like a piece of food on a restaurant plate that she has to fix the seasoning herself, whether it's like removing mushrooms or scraping meat or adding sweet 'n low to a stir fry dish. She's never recognizing that you & your body are not a product to consume. She never recognized your right to bodily autonomy. (To say the least of it, I do mean there's probably more bugs under those unturned stones.)

Point being, part of seeing living, actually existing, realistic, queer adults, is part of building our self esteem. By the way, realistic transition goals is part of building positive self esteem in general. (This is why TDOV in March was developed by trans people, because we didn't trust cis people to help us back then, and we wanted to combat genocidal narratives that lied about our prevalence & life outcomes.) And so your mom's queerbaiting anti-trans conduct hits hard because now you've found out that you need new role models (other than the ones your mom gave you), in order to build your self-esteem with, which will shake some expectations you had for your own life for a while until at least you make more pro-trans lgbtqia+ friends to help you secure your bearings.

Like I'm going to also be blunt here too and I'm going to say that your mom probably would've abused your girlfriends in a similar way she abused you because she would've seen them as yet another candy egg covered in pink paint. So yeah, it's good to keep no-contact with your mom, especially to help protect your new support network including yourself.

Good Luck, Peace & Love,

Eve

[ask-the-six-human-souls]

💛 Spoilers for Undertale Yellow ahead! (If you don't want to be spoiled, don't read this!!) 💛

Alright so, I ended up playing Undertale Yellow for myself and I beat the pacifist route just now and...gosh...IT WAS AWESOME (And really sad ;U;)

Anyway, someone asked me what my thoughts were on the game and so I thought I'd make a post about the things I really liked about/thoughts I had throughout the game! Here we go!

First off, music and graphics were AWESOME I loved it all so much! New Home and some of the other areas were so memorizing to go through cause of just how beautiful the art of the game was! And the music was really catchy!

One thing that was really interesting to me about the game- I just be rlly bad at the battling system but- its the fact of how hard the pacifist run was. Like, in Undertale, the pacifist run was hard for certain bosses- but in Undertale Yellow I dreaded even running into some of the enemies because of how frustrating there bullets could be. The Guardener robot fight I did like probably 20+ times!! I was getting do frustrated at these things that I honestly almost thought about ruining my route and fighting these bosses/enemies to make it easier. Thats just interesting to me...especially with how many ppl have the same interpretation that the Justice soul fought and possibly dusted many monsters.

The ending was really surprising...but, it made lots of sense! I was totally expecting that Clover would fight Asgore...but he didn't. It makes me reflect on Justin's backstory a lot...him and Clover went to the Underground for the same reason, but, unlike Clover, Justin was kinda already blinded by anger halfway through...he realized his purpose for going down there was in vain, just like Clover had, but, he had no one to keep him calm or 'distract' him like Clover had. Unless you count Chara but...yeah...

I'm really glad they added that message at the end..."You hear someone cry for help. You answer their call." I assume thats a reference to the Flowey fight and it makes me happy that added that in. :3

Thats all the thoughts I can think of rn...but feel free to ask me about my thoughts on things I might have missed. I've done no secrets, and I haven't done the genocide route yet, but I plan on it like...possibly right now. Rip...just when I got the good ending...

I might make a post when I finish the genocide route, but we'll see!!

[razistoricharka]

most people hate managers and their boss, most people do not hate their neighbors, yet it's so hard to convince them to want to genocide the former and so easy to do so for the latter. it doesn't add up, why is convincing most of the population to care about meaningless identity politics so easy over something as tangible as class which every single human being experiences every single day and engages in class dynamics for most of waking life if they're gainfully employed?

[laurelnose]

like. tfw you’re mathematically predestined for damnation and trying to make the utilitarianist best of it and then your ███ saves your life in a way that is so morally repugnant to you that you somehow end up shacking up with Mr. All-Caps I Love Genocide because he’s got an idea that will save your entire species from hell

tfw you’re the most senior scientist left because everyone else fucking died, including your boss because of information you gave him that turned out to be incomplete, and you’re struggling with a contagious infocancer with vectors that are opaque to you and one of your people is exposed, but she’s not showing symptoms yet and if you tell anyone they’ll fucking murder her, and you love her, and how far is too far to go to contain a threat like this?

tfw you’re isolated from your home and people and struggling to maintain a normal social life because of the trauma of something heinous you were forced to do as a child and an alien crashlands in your bathroom and tells you, we’re soulmates, serendura, our destinies are intertwined, I need to obtain a weapon that will save your species from enslavement and you’re the only who can help me because our souls match, oh btw mine is ontologically evil. jsyk.

tfw you and your best friend since childhood start an organization to do extrajudicial murder of people who will never face normal justice together but he does way more extrajudicial murder than you thought he was going to, so you expose him to his wife, your other best friend from childhood, and she dumps both of you forever, so now it’s just you and him, locked together, you hate him, you love him, you can’t let him do anything as evil as that ever again, don’t think too hard about the part that you did

tfw an alien shows up in your office and says do exactly what I tell you or I’m destroying the entire fucking planet, and you’re like, well, fuck, okay, I may have to commit some true atrocities, but there’s nothing that can possibly be worse than the extinction of humanity, and it never even occurs to you that you could have bargained with him before selling out Earth until it’s almost too late

[itsprobablybetteroffthatway]

My mental health has been not so good lately!! I’ve been dealing with processing some childhood trauma and coming to terms with its role it plays in my life. And with the pummeling one major world event one after another: the next steps in multiple genocides, devastating hurricane, then another one, record breaking heat waves, flooding in the Sahara, videos of Palestinians being brutally murdered on our very screens. It’s all too much. I lay awake at night thinking about it all.

And then the Palestinians that are reaching out to us on tumblr. Because it is their last resort, their last hope. It’s chilling. I am frozen in my tracks. I can’t make consistent donations as my work has been very very slow. Paying rent the past month was terrifying, I barely scraped it together. The shame I feel that not only am I having a hard time taking care of myself, all I can do for them is answer the messages, pass the links along in hopes that someone else can send money is astounding. I feel like I’ve stopped living my life. I don’t feel human. I go to work (when I have appointments scheduled), come home, try to eat, and just stare at my phone screen at the unfolding man made horrors beyond my wildest fears for hours.

But I am lucky. I have family in my area, I have a boss and a manager that are working with me to bring more people to my schedule. I have a partner that I plan to move in with by late winter/early spring of next year, which will cut a lot of my bills in half or at least by a third. I have clients that love my work and try their hardest to come see me at least once a month. I have loved ones that care about me and will want to help me if I were to ask.

So I need to figure out how to survive the next winter months, more mentally than anything. I just need to find the balance of caring and doing the work to help people, and taking care of myself and living. Because the world hasn’t ended yet. It’s horrible and awful and also it’s still here. I’m still here.

[tribal-chief-reigns]

This is just my personal opinion. Feel free to disagree with it and discuss it if you want :) but after finishing the Undertale Yellow Neutral route, (haven't gotten to the other two yet, might never do genocide :'D) I really do not like Ceroba and I'm going to find it hard to spare her when I get back to her boss fight. I find what she did to just be unforgivable despite what poor old Starlo says :^)

[mako-neexu]

Same person who sent that arknights/FGO idea from a while ago but here's another one 😁 the doctor and Romani talking about their wards but before Romani leaves he asks the doctor to tell Ritsuka "good job but take it easy sometimes okay? You've worked hard enough" if they ever meet before dissapearing from existence again.

ANON IM GOING TO JUMP ON YOU BTW i rushed this so bare with me (dies) i initially wanted a convo between two doctors but then... i lost braincells www so have this instead/???? TvT I present to you my first ever cheesy crossover fic between the two gacha games i play. im so very weak for roman...

—

How should they go about this?

The Doctor taps their fingers against their arm, both crossed in a pondering manner he habitually uses whenever he has to negotiate with a high-ranking individual.

It was familiar by now, though merely because deep inside, it was practically muscle memory for them to be able to convince and deceive anyone.

Doctor hums lightly, moving forward to lean against the railing of the landship alongside the dark-haired boy and the orange-red haired girl.

Their stay was soon going to end, with the unknown organization calling themselves ‘Novum Chaldea’ preparing to return them home after a month of life here as Operators of Rhodes Island.

It was a bit sad… considering they and the many people living in the landship had grown fond of the two Casters who were not from this world.

They had already said their goodbyes, each of them promising to visit once more and fight alongside them.

“Welp, no use getting sad over this!” Gudako laughs, her hair whipping around her face like silk fluttering in the air. “After all, I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

Gudao sighs with a smile and turns to them, “Yeah, sometimes, there’s cases where we randomly end up in different worlds while sleeping. So who knows? We really might get to visit again.”

Doctor smiles, reaching out to nudge the boy’s arm with a fist, “Rhodes Island is happy to welcome you both with open arms then.”

The atmosphere turns a little solemn. Perhaps it was the sunset. Perhaps it was the fact that they all knew that they wouldn’t be seeing each other again after this.

While the boy had a peaceful expression on his face, the girl’s own was conflicted. The two of them had bonded with so many people here that it was understandable that the pain must be near indescribable for them.

“You know,” Doctor says, eyes downcast as he looks at the dry soil of the ground beneath the ship, “In case Kal hadn’t yet offered, you both can stay here as just staff.” The only thing they could hear was the soft blowing of the wind and their voice.

The two ‘Casters’ had told them of their story. Of a world where Grail Wars exist, hundreds of ghosts summoned to fight alongside and against, the world burned except for handful of people including them, forced into committing repeated mass genocide all for the sake of their own survival-

The Doctor knew what that man’s words had meant as soon as they were told about Gudao and Gudako’s stories.

It was near unbelievable, but considering that they have their own brand of ‘magic’ and technology, they and Kaltsit had been the first ones to believe their origins. While Kal had her own reasoning, the Doctor’s own had been different.

“The two of you are young, barely into adulthood even and you both are forced to dye your hands with the blood of your allies and foe alike.”

Who were they to say that when they have former child soldiers of their own, and current children at that, employed as an Operator to allow them treatment to slow down the effects of their Oripathy.

But they still have a chance to do something for these two.

“‘Retreat is a victory itself. Nobody would fault the two of you if you decided to stay here.” Where no grail war, no ‘Servants’, no forces out there would enforce upon them a cruel position.

Gudako smiles. It was a bright yet sad one. “Thanks for the offer, boss. But-”

“-We want to take back our world, no matter the cost.” And Gudao finishes for her.

The Doctor stares at them, takes a good long look before shaking their head good-naturedly.

…No matter the cost, huh?

It’s seriously like that man said. 

Before they could say anything, a blue hologram of a little girl appeared before the two Masters.

“Gudao, Gudako! The rayshift will now start in five minutes! Be ready for my countdown, okay?”

“Yep. Thanks Da Vinci.” The two replied before the connection was cut off.

The two turn to the Doctor, all smiles and solemn goodbyes, “Thanks for taking care of us here, boss.” Gudao says, his arm wrapping around Gudako’s own.

They cross their arms with a half-hearted huff, “I hope the both of you take care of yourselves. The medical examinations we conducted with you guys for the past weeks had all of the medical team worried.”

After all, the results they gathered and concluded had been vague at best. But they made sure that the two were in perfect shape even if it's just the outward appearance.

But-

“We’ll do our best! No promises, though.”

Doctor’s eyes flit from their pocket to the two of them.

A beat. One, two…

Their gaze softened, and so did their tone, “And I don’t mean that from Rhodes Island and myself alone…”

Then, he pulls out a pair of white gloves they knew to have been recognized by the two judging from the gasps and astonishment in their gazes.

Doctor hands it to them, unable to meet their stares, “That man… He said he was proud of the both of you, how you made it this far with everyone despite the odds. But he also wanted for you both to take it easy. Rest if it gets heavy, move forward even if you no longer have a path.”

The hands that took the pair of gloves were shaky at best. And the Doctor could see from the corner of their eyes that Gudao and Gudako’s eyes were shiny.

…That man must have been what he is to Amiya. 

The only difference was that their doctor no longer exists.

Reaching out, they patted both the teenagers’ heads in a similar way he had done so with Red and Ifrit.

“Good job.”

—was that man’s message to them from a dream they had before Gudao and Gudako came to Terra.

As a physician themselves, death was a familiar and intimate concept. Loss and grief follows second.

To think that the man laid his life down to pave the way for these two…

The two clutched at the gloves, no doubt that it was drenched by now.

But Gudako suddenly shot up and cried, “H-How did you see him!? H-He’s no longer here- that would be impossible! U-Unless-”

Doctor shook their head, “I met him in a dream. When I woke up, the gloves were sitting on my desk.”

Da Vinci appeared once more, the hologram now occasionally interrupted by static, “Alright! Thirty seconds left. I’m sorry commander, but we need them to be still now.”

They nod as their hands slip away from the two Masters’ heads. “He’s a kind man.” They smile at the memory of fluffy peach hair bouncing from embarrassment, gloved hands shooting up to rub his nape in a sheepish manner, “Your doctor, that is.”

The proud blush on the two was endearing. “W-Well, he’s the reason why we’re able to push forward.” Gudao imitated the same manner as that man’s habit.

They rest a hand on their hip, amusement filling their smirk, “I suppose that’s why you prefer to call me boss rather than my primary title.”

“Sorry! It’s just that that title holds a special place in our hearts.” The red-haired girl laughed.

“It’s fine,” They respond with equal emotion, fifteen seconds left.  “But I wish the both of you luck.”

From them, from Rhodes Island, from Closure, Amiya, and Kaltsit—

As a blue light came from above and engulfed Gudao and Gudako, the Doctor waved them goodbye

“And his wish was to see the both of you happy.”

[plasticfangtastic]

Can We be Lonely Together? Ch. 12 2/3

A Homelander X Stalker! Reader fanfic

This is a G/N reader but male leaning for crack purposes.

A/N: Part 3 soon, long chapter ahead, part 1 is currently a pin post on my blog as of 30/7/2023. prev. chapters in the #My Fic tag and #can we be lonely together tag on my blog. Thanks to all the ones who have read this.

R18+ S.A and rape mention, child abuse and child death mention, murder. long chapter ahead

Chapter 12 cont.

Entering wasn’t difficult– no more difficult than co-ordinating with The Deep in order to steal a minor dosis of V and placing it in your car the day prior without the boss finding out, clutching at your bag, and the SD card in your pocket you began to re-play a collection of tragedies.

You needed to sell this and as controversial ‘The Method’ acting technique was, it worked in a pinch– these weren’t just enemies of Vought, or Homelander but of all Supe kind. Even on a microdose of V you could suffiencently heighten your powers. Vought had plenty on this group of FBSA contractors, their rap sheet miles long: terrorism, murder, assault, kidnapping, speeding, drug and gun peddling and now social media influencing.

Your escape plan virtually nonexistent, this was a do-or-die situation counting on Starlight having some humanity left… after all she was a Supe too– and that one man might just be pretending to be making exceptions to his genocidal goal.

If this didn’t work out then Homelander would never learn, you repeated over and over drilling it into your skull as you got closer to your goal.

It was for his own good, you repeated.

Welcome by the assault of a bloodtrail of thoughts you shook, gagging at the vividness of it all. These people were brutal, you had resided in carveries, dozens of bodies had gone past you yet their attitude was too much when compared to Dolores and Kent. One so odious and angry you began to reconsider your plan, yet you stepped foot out of the elevator as the ornate doors opened before you.

You had a catalog of tragedies to draw out tears, playing death on command feeling those final memories, the pains of love with nowhere to blossom, screams atop of lungs, and torment and pain of your own and others, you stood in that hallway until your eyes welled up, until your reflection must’ve looked haunting, each step forward meant a death without witnessing your sun once more.

‘Greywal & Co.’ Your hand shaky as it challenged itself to knock– how hard should you hit it? how desperate should you look? did your clothes look composed yet disheveled? How clammy was your skin? Thankfully you’re still sweaty and achy from sex.

Your knuckles hit the door lightly, shrinking, making yourself small, leaving out all of your pesky bravado.

You waited knowing you were noticed but each member grew increasingly silent, looking at each other– who could’ve possibly known their location? Sinking your teeth into your madness, you knocked again.

One already had a gun in his hand as he approached, a tiny jumpy thing, his mind clear but quick, a myriad of narcotics still fresh in his system from last night bender, he opened the door, you made eye contact, noticing the dark circles under his eyes, and his tight bright coloured shirt, he offered a jumpy glare-- this one was a functioning addict.

He opened his mouth speaking with a thick french accent.

“We didn’t order anything.”

“Is… Is…” Your voice so small and breathy each letter caught in your tongue, the man leaned forward to catch your stuttering–… Is William Butcher here?”

His index creeping closer to the trigger.

“I must speak with him!!” Oh that cracking so good you earned your cookie– please…” you pleaded.

As the scene grew, Plan B entered the play– Starlight stood from her desk, narrowing her eyes, it took so much of you not to grin. She moved quickly, recognizing a nobody like yourself; Which made sense considering how the last time you both had made eye contact was back before restaffing efforts in the analytics department.

“You’re from Vought… yeah… I remember you, you were with Analytics!”

“Starlight!?” you took a step back, clutching at the straps of your backpack– thank god… I… I… Please help me.”

Your knees wobbly from before, wobbling at the perfect moment, thankful for the aching on your back and hips.

“I’ll giv’ you one minute of my time, luv– before I ask you to get the fuck outta of ‘ere.” the English man put his boots down from his desk, signaling to the two to let you walk in.

You could see why Homelander found him tantalizing, he was too much of a bad boy, practically screaming that he would ruin you with that somber look in his eyes, but deep down you could tell he was a softy if you dug and hated yourself enough– you could’ve tried that without breaking too many nails.

Marching towards your butcher, you took a SD card out of your jacket cradling it in your palm, swallowing the knot in your throat.

“Nobody at Vought would help me…” You swallowed– I… I don’t want to die… if… if they don’t kill me… he will” Your eyes reddened, lying like this pained you– I-I-I can-can’t do this anymore." you stuttered-- I learned you guys dealt with supes! The cops can’t help me and I'm a nobody so the press would never believe me… the FBSA won’t do nuthin’ about him either.”

He stared at the SD card in your hand yet still uninterested.

“... please… I beg you… please help me” You cried lightly, your whole body shuddering knowing what was about to escape your mouth would hurt him– please…”

“Who's the cunt? What could you possibly ‘ave here that would make me wan’ to ‘elp you? Not even a sob story?”

“Homelander. He… He did things to me…” you cried– I needed to find a way to get away from him… I thought if I found something dirty on Vought or him, they would put me on witness protection or something!! But they will… they will fucking kill me for this! God I wanted to get away from him, not this!!”

His whole body stiffen, your tears far too genuine, their eyes too uncomfortable to look at you for a millisecond longer, exchanging worried glances urging a brave soul to approach you.

Starlight's hand took you by surprise, flinching and slapping it off of you, she clutched her hand staring at you looking like a caged animal.

“So-sorry… I– I– I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Is that true?” the Englishman asked with a low voice, and forced sarcasm– quite the story you got I almost bought it.”

A quiet rage invaded you, furiously unbuttoning your dress shirt, dropping layers in excess, flashing him, his mouth dropped at the sight of a hundred strokes– this was more than he had hoped for, leaving him nothing more to want.

“I’m not lying!!” You growled– does this look fake to you, asshole!?”

Your torso imitated a car crash victim, turning in shame just enough for him to catch a glimpse at the sore bite marks around your shoulders and neck.

“I’m losing it…” you cackled with your sobs– am so fucking dead.”

“Jesus Christ Butcher!” Starlight shouted picking your clothes to cover you– hey! hey come sit down.”

The bastard had actually thought you weren’t his type.  

Turning his love letters into weapons, brought you into a screaming fit of tears, it hurt you, he would not forgive you… he shouldn’t… but… he did it first.

In his desolation he would go back to you, nobody would love him like you, he would understand he could only belong freely in your arms.

Following her to the gross little couch, while making little notes on the names of their family members, passwords, embarrassing secrets– all the juicy things you needed to start Plan R.

A handsome man, the family oriented one offered you tea. Both him and Starlight’s voice were nothing but a buzz, your sight glued on Butcher.

“How did you found out ‘bout me…?”

“You've been after him and Vought for a while…” the crack on your voice harsh– you killed Stillwell… Translucent… Mesmer… the Payback bitches… but  I read that they kidnapped your wife– so I put two and two together and assumed you had a vendetta.”

“What y’know ‘bout my wife?”

“I read she was kept in a facility to help rear Homelander’s son– something about providing a stable environment that supported his emotional needs. From the look in your face I gather I’m not the only one.”

You cleaned your tears.

“So that’s what you found? You think that’s gonna do shite againts them? As if they won’t spin it as my Becca being a heartless harlot who ran away with his kid!”

You were too angry for your own good, maybe just as angry as him.

“ I’m not stupid… I stumbled upon some files called ‘Project Patriot’ and ‘First True American Program’ leading me down a rabbit hole– back in the 70’s and 80’s Vought conducted research using high spec Supe sperm and eggs on… unwilling participants” You cleared your nose, your voice sounding detached– they took runaways and girls from ‘Sage Grove’ to help make what would become ‘The Homelander’… they- they were other kids… he was the only survivor. His mother… she was found a few weeks ago… she was a missing girl called Frida Gillman…”

You looked up, clearing your nose loudly. The Englishman gave a commanding look to his group, the tall black guy did a quick google search on his phone, the first result was a youtube video talking about old unsolved mysteries finally solved, it seemed for many years Frida had had a following in the true crime community.

Showcasing an old grainy picture of Frida, both men could immediately see the family resemblance.

“How confident are you that you don’t got the wrong girl?”

“He killed her in front of me. He… he found her… I have the autopsies pictures too… it…”

“He laser her brains off?” He scoffed, for all the bullshit talk he had in front of him with Soldier Boy… that had been rich to hear.

“She looked the same. She didn’t age a day… I think Vought briefly considered using her to make anti-aging face cream… he didn’t like that.”

The lab had been repainted after you whispered it to Homelander.

Butcher took a seat across from you, already finding twelve different ways to kill you before his men could stop him, disliking the tone of your voice far too much.

“Kept goin’’”

“The American program…” You took a short sip of your tea, never lifting your face for too long– they collected his kids, he told me once… he thought he… he couldn’t make babies… Vought lied to him. Something about his DNA, basically fused with Compound V! So his offspring would always be born natural Supes– in theory… so they took the kids and put them in Big Brother’s house… forced the moms to agree to the experiments once the kids showed powers– if not dispose of them and continue without them.”

He could smell the pretense in your delivery, he was sharp, you liked the challenge strangely enough, it made your heartbeat jump with excitment.

“His son… Ryan… he seems like a good kid. As much as I hate him… as much as I wanna see Homelander dead… I cannot be the reason an innocent child goes through what they did to him and his kids.” You whimpered– The things… you can’t even imagine the things they did to him and those kids!! They were babies!! Like how can anybody do that to a child!!? You wouldn’t even do that to an animal!! I saw a fucking toddler be hit with a sledgehammer!! Shot at! Poisoned! Drowned!! I saw his kids being hooked to generators!! Have you ever seen a kid's eyes bursting!!!??” You stood up, your skin turning green. This couldn’t be faked– have you ever seen what happens to a body after it experiences a sudden atmospheric pressure change? not talking scuba divers… talking submarine chambers.”

You plop down, sinking in the leather seat, holding your clothes in place, watching their disgust and horror. You offered the SD card, the man struggled to take it off your hand, thinking of how dead he would be as if wasn’t already on a timer.

“– Vought has too many ears… after the V scandal… and I can barely get away from him…”

You could practically hear the victory bells, with clumsy fingers you took your phone out, the burner one that only served Roman. Too many selfies of you and Homelander, too many short texts between you two on your current phone.

“Wait you walking ‘roun with that shite on your phone!?”

“Well if he kills me, maybe the cops would find this in my phone… I… I was sort of counting on Homelander just not caring to check.”

You played a single video, a little blonde kid no more than eleven sitting in front of a row of shot glasses, a younger Jonah Vogelbaum sat beside him holding a bag of Peach gummies, for every shot the kid took he earned a gummy and a pat in his head, it wasn’t until the third shot glass when the group that had huddle around understood what was taking place– as the boy spat furiously, droplets felt across the metal sizzling whatever they touched, the kid crying with a painfully hoarse voice that it burnt too much. Vogelbaum stood up offering a single candy then forced him back into the chair, telling him that he shouldn’t cry, that he must do this for him if he wanted to earn this week’s reward.

The kid cried slowly, calming down as he took the next cup, snot covered bright red lips and cheeks as he tried looking strong for Voguelbaum.

“It goes on for five minutes.”

“Is that Homelander?” The lanky white boy spoke nervously.

“Yeah… that’s not even the worst… even if you kill me for the files only I got the password and good luck cracking it. I’ll give you the files if you can get me protection…”

“You think you can run away from him?” Asked the englishman– "can't even get rid of him now– those bruises look fresh.”

So here you could tell more awful lies, little tears soiled your cheeks, he just simply did not like you, not liking that you now held their price hostage, but it didn't need to turn bloody.

“I liked him… but one day he got loud, he scared me… and since… no matter what I did he would just get more angry. Before I knew it… he did this to me, and if I cried he would get worse… I… I want him to stop but am just a mudperson.” Starlight tilted towards you at the mention of that word– Nobody can kill him… or lock him, there is no prison built for him… but if Vought dies, if there’s no more Vought then there’s no more Homelander. He seems like the kind of guy who would kill himself if he found out about what they did to the kids… Even if I don’t make it… I could be okay with that if that meant Ryan would be safe– Let me at least go to hell with one less sin.”

He briefly considered torturing you to get you to reveal it was an act, but watching you, watching this divine offering, knowing this would never happen again he had to agree, Homelander would kill you, watching the look of anger and defeat brewing reflecting of your face, his walls began to crumble. He hated Homelander, watching that clip didn’t change anything but Ryan remained… The thought of his Becca forced to agree, to comply as they forced Ryan to drink acid– Butcher imagined the same scene, his wife holding the gummies in place of Jonah encouraging the small kid to take another sip. His stomach churned.

“I can make some calls to the FBSA…” he muttered, his mind in another timeline.

“The one run by the head popping presidential candidate?”

“How do you—?” asked Starlight.

“He talks… I think he thinks I'm his therapist– he says a lot of things… as if nobody ever did so much as pretend to listen. He was nice…” A saddened smile unnerved Starlight– a guy like that doesn’t look at somebody like me– it wasn’t hard to like him. It was hard to learn he was a monster… he says a lot of things. Too many. ‘bout the company, ‘bout himself, ‘bout the people who serve him.” You looked up– you. That’s how I learned your name… you’re the big bad wolf trying to blow his house of straws.”

He chuckled.

“So he kept comin’ back because yer a good listener? Give me a day and I can reach some contacts in the CIA that might be able to get you out the country– can you survive until then?”

“Don't have much of a choice.” You wrapped yourself in your clothes properly this time, your eyes sore from all the tears– the kid… the kid will be alright, no?”

“We’ll do everything we can to help you…” Starlight spoke, her hand sticky on your shoulder– you can trust us.”

“Certainly hope so. I can’t wait to get the matching set” You hissed scratching at the bite mark on your left shoulder– thank you…”

“Have to ask… what’s your name?” William asked– for the paperwork of course.”

He still didn’t trust you, good things don’t come this easily, these were jaded people but your carrot was too big and tempting, he had no qualms killing you, he had no issue with Homelander knowing this address, for he seemed far more interested in playing house and running Vought to the ground than to pay him a visit.

You gave them your current cover… only Homelander knew your real name.

You had liked that name, ideally it would be replaced by his last name, you watched him grin and offer you a tissue, the french man telling you where the bathroom was so you could wash your face. They wasted no time aiming for a background check speedrun world record, your name led them to various social media accounts, your usage was sporadic but consistent on topics, even a personal update about starting work at Vought, soon after that you posted less and less. 

They could possibly find everything about you, all the fake shit you carefully build, and if they had weeks they could possibly find the new one you’ve crafted to get away from Roman earlier on. With their CIA connection as limited as they were, it wouldn’t be impossible to uncover your many past lives in time, at least your original self, that have once been sealed in the Vought records of your Pusher days were permanently deleted.

As your face dried your phone chimed, a short  message: ‘Can’t you come back early? Babe, I want both you and Ryan to meet the surprise. Oh and should I get some from that cake shop in Sydney? the one you like??’

You looked around knowing nobody had come close.

‘Get the lemon pistachio. I can be there at 4. will try to finish this quickly tho. Luv u.’

Starlight was quizzed on who you were, she mentioned noticing Homelander descending to the lower floors, but she was more busy about everything, after all you had arrive on her last weeks of work soon after Edgar stepped down, you didn’t stand out but she saw you– after all there were only like five people down there.

You re-entered as M.M. lowered his computer screen, heading towards his desk you handed him the SD card.

Clutching at your bag straps, looking wounded and exhausted.

“How do we know we can trust you? Maybe I believe you or maybe I don’t, luv.”

He was going to give you a final jab.

“Margaret and Elena recently purchased a homestead… 8 acres of land down in Colorado and are rearing llamas for fur… I could’ve given Homelander her address, phone number, new social security number, the license plate to her blue 1999 Chevy Silverado, even down to the last thing she ate at Taco Bell last saturday at 4:33 pm based on her Bank of America account transaction. I also know she texted her three days ago.” You pointed at Starlight– If I was your enemy I would’ve gotten her killed. My supervisor deleted the footage of a van picking her body but she missed one from a Ring doorbell camera one store away”

You showed him the clip, different angle, dark but obviously them.

“Trust me or not, don't care… just help me get away from him, if I had contacts with the CIA I would’ve tried running away on my own, but the worse part about working for Vought is that the people in my department are fucking good at their job. Call Maeve if you like to confirm she’s alive, if you want.”

The room tensed.

You took a couple steps back, your phone ringing and ringing, you had said no and even if your message was reasonable, it didn’t matter.

The more it went on the more you could sense this ending very poorly.

“That’s him, Isn’t it?” Hughie asked.

“... the password is ‘limerence’ no caps… I… I have to go.”

The phone kept going and going you stood there for a whole minute while it rang incessantly, taking a deep breath, you began walking away.

Your eyes, two whole red saucers, the french man followed you to the door, watching your eyes welling up, your arms trembling as you took the phone to your ear.

“You answer when I fucking call you!” John shouted into the phone, making you jump.

Loud enough they could hear his unmistakable voice echoing down the halls.

You ran for the stairs, knowing there was a camera set up, looking down as you heaved in your sprint. M.M. looked at the security feed watching your jacket fade as you run and seemed to apologize.

Hughie took an old computer from one the many filing cabinets, if anything was to be destroyed by a virus it wasn’t going to be one of theirs, there was no denying those bruises in your body, Annie had winced, her sight fixated on each patch of skin and its unsavory coating– some fresh some ancient, some barely there until the light hit it just right, all your wounds in spots that your clothes could cover, it made her stomach churn thinking of what he had done to get you like that and even as you runned down the stairs you could hear them so clearly.

The SD card opened up displaying three folders within, Hughie and company tried typing the password on all of them, getting lucky on the last one.

Inside hundreds of files, documents, images and videos on ‘Project Patriot’.

Even as the city grew sleepier, they were fixated on the screen, even without the other folders, even without anything else– Vought could be done for.

It left a bitter aftertaste… he lost sleep watching recordings and recordings of nameless kids, fading from history, kids that had never formally existed outside of God’s gaze.

Just overwhelming misery.

Inside that now emptied office, he took a cigarette out to the sounds of a little boy taking an oral test, a light stutter had to be eliminated out his mouth, made to read out loud passages from some American history book, made to repeat everything if the stutter presented itself watching the child grow more stressed and embarrassed.

He was living on borrowed time, he considered for longer than he could afford to do.

“scorched earth” the smoke drew swirls in the air– what should I do Becca?”

Homelander's nose and ears ached, the thought of taking another step inside this shelter was genuinely agonizing, the excitement, the fear and fecal rainbow of the four-legged beasts all around, smacked his senses.

This was quicker than getting one from a breeder, it would look good for his new fanbase-- he was told, the lady's jittery motion gave him a headache– shut up!! He wanted to scream as she spoke non-stop leading him to the cattery, rows of stainless steel boxes… cages… rows and rows of cages. 

Not even enough space to walk away from the litter box, his tongue dried thinking of his own cage, the latrine always visible.

“This donation truly means a lot to us, Homelander, sir.” she said excitedly.

 A hundred-thousand dollars was chump change to him– a lot for this independent shelter, watching these tiny cages he might double it on the promise they would make them bigger.

Rows of kittens and cats mewl and screamed, too many noises, too many smells, it was dizzying, he had to hold unto Ashley’s shoulder as his ears were assaulted by screams and purrs, hisses and yowlings, barking, and scratching, this place was a violent, his chest tightening as his ears ached– his eyes pressed tightly. John’s mind was so quiet, his brother still ignoring him squeezing his knuckles until they cracked. Homelander gave the room a quick glance, picking a random cage that housed two older cats.

These creatures screamed the loudest, demanding to be seen.

“Oh those two they were surrendered to us last year… not a lot of people want to take older cats, much less bonded pairs.”

He read the tag, a pair of seven and ten year old cats– a brother and sister. The brother a fat slob of a beast, its long fur made it look like a scraggly cream coloured cloud, its whiskers just as long and curly at the tips, its nose too long and its eyes big and green while his sister a skinnier but not by much… still more fur than it should have, just a boring brown mackerel.

“We’ve been trying to get them to lose weight but they aren’t very active during playtime, still lots of improvement from last year.”

This was just to make you happy, they would only last a couple more years and by the time they died you wouldn’t want more. Ryan would get the pet experience but as most children he assumed he would grow disinterested in a couple months.

“Do they get along with dogs? And kids?”

“Kids, yes!! Dogs not big ones” she blurted, already opening the cage– want to hold them?”

Forcibly smiling, he took the fat girl, hefty, she talked displeased, just blubber and fur, the lady made a motion encouraging Homelander to press her against his chest, chirping and chattering, the eye contact was intense, as he wanted this weird tuna smell away from his face and the cat was clearly puzzled by his presence. Its tongue was so strange, he flinched lightly as the animal licked his nose, sniffling at his face.

From the cat's perspective the man had no aroma, nothing but a fawn wearing human clothes.

“Perfect, I'll take them!” he handed the creature back– my boy cannot wait.”

“well… sir… we usually have an interview pro–

“I said I’ll take them– Ashley give the lady her check!”

An assistant handed him a cartoonishly large check, this was after all going to be a PR opportunity at least. Ashley, still processing what was happening, all she knew was that after a light lunch he came and ordered her to get this organized.

He waited outside the cattery texting you and getting nothing, he was inside this place for you and now you didn’t answer inmediately.

He shouted.

“Sorry!! Trying to organize some ingredients for Dolores she needed my help!!” 

“What's with your voice?”

His anger melted instantly.

“I’m running down the stairs!!”

“Are you okay…?”

“Yes! I just don’t think I can talk with you while they’re around– I’ll call you when I can. I love you.” 

Hanging only made it worse.

Three floors under them, you are still close enough to listen to the French man, his knowledge of chemistry inspirational.

Homelander entered the room again to get a photo taken with the cats, each animal more displeased than he was.

By the time he made it back to the tower, he searched for your heartbeat.

Still not there, but Ryan was busy with after school activities, and going to the library with his buddies Jaythaniel, Haoran and Oaklynn to do their homework.

He watched the men set up the cats' stuff, Ms. Cha making sure they didn’t leave a mess, cursing in Korean how the cats were going to make her work more than she ever had yet still throwing them an adoring look.

He sat on his couch after letting the cats out, not paying much attention to what they were doing.

“Ms. Cha, could you keep an eye out for the cats? I still need to run some errands. If Y/N gets home don't let them in until I get here.”

Never in her twenty years of working for this man, had he ever called her anything. Assumed the hero didn’t even know her name... much less she existed.

Running across the city looking at your phone for the time, you jumped on the subway until you made it to Dolores's restaurant, two staff led you quietly to the back as the lunch service was still happening. 

A young woman shouted commands in code, the staff moving like extensions of their voice, Dolores examining each plate before a waiter took it, she had no need to taste for her nose did all the work, she pulled her second in command and placed them in charge walking away for you to follow into a cramp fridge.

“Supe.”

“Soup?”

“I can get you Firecracker for the next epulary.” you bluter excitedly.

“Get out of here.”

“Her editor and script writer lives in Queens… She goes every Thursday to her house for wine and discusses the next episode of their podcast. Vought might be running the show now but she still needs her best friend’s input.”

She looked at the labels around.

“How are you going to do it?” She moved the trays around dictating freshness thus urgency– she got bulletproof skin.”

“Tetrodotoxin… a couple drops in her wine”

“I can get you some puffer fish by tomorrow. I know that on a normal human the meat will be useless but… a Supe like her… am curious.”

“Her friend is a supe too, they met at Godolkin their power is stupid– X-Ray vision but overall normal.”

“Don’t get me too excited, babygirl.”

“I’ll deliver it in two days then, just need to get away from John for a minute and you do your part, right?”

“I’ll have the clean up crew just text me when you’re on your way. And ‘John’? Oh… not just Homelander this time.”

“I think he was gonna buy a cat for me.”

“Jesus christ what did you do to his dick? Any tips?”

“Just gotta suck it like you’re a repressed middle aged man with two kids and a wife at a dingy truck stop gloryhole.”

“Damn.”

“That or just tell him he is a good boy.”

She opened the door with a wide smile, jumping at the thought of tasting Supe meat again, it had been a long time since you guys met and you’ve help her..

“Oh I gotta make dinner… Can I?”

She lowered a tray of porterhouse angus for you.

“I take this as my advancement.”

“You should take our mash potato and brown buttered carrots– I’ll have them pack you some”

“Oh I got this Cassolette recipe I just stole from a killer”

“How good?”

“Remember Lil’ Nina from the Russian’s?”

“Oh the one she tried having me make? and who fucked us over with the Czech back in the day.”

“That one… small world indeed.”

“Fuck the angus take the dry-age wagyu.”

Time slips away but it's still four o’clock but shy of 5, by the time you rushed past the security check he was already waiting for you, dozens of eyes looking at you.

You lifted the grocery bag.

“You’re late.”

Still a quarter to five. He looks lost and upset, trying to keep composed in public.

“My apologies sir… I had to take the subway.”

“Your car doesn't work?”

There’s many people around you to speak comfortably.

“Sorry, I thought it would be quicker if I didn’t drive, sir.”

You looked away, clutching at your belongings, his glare was not worth the Uber ride you paid to get here.

“I’m going to go get Ryan from… whatever the fuck their names are… you don’t go inside until am back.”

“Jaythaniel, Haoran and Ooklynn.”

“What?”

“Those are his friends' names. You like Ooklynn, she is a well behaved one.”

“Those can’t be real names…” he softened his posture, taking a fancy paper bag from behind him– we’ll talk later.”

Seeing him take the front door out was a terrifying look, you stood there for a couple minutes trying to understand what just had happened, his mind had been so quiet.

The ride up was uncomfortable, the walk home just as bad.

“What did you do to him?” Ms Cha asked, already waiting for you outside– "I had it easy for years and now you make him give me more work!”

“I clean up after myself.” you defended.

“He has lost his goddamn mind.” she blocked the door– not allowed until bossman comes back.”

“How pissed was he?”

“Quiet. Just looks ready to kill somebody for the hell of it.”

“We both know that doesn’t narrow it down.”

“Not murder for funsies but premeditated.”

You both looked defeated just standing in awkward silence.

“Since when does he take the elevator?” Ms. Cha nudge at you, waking you up.

“It was nice knowing you.”

Ryan shot you the same look Ms. Cha gave you before, John's brows just buried enough yet not touching, his lips a thin line and he was looking straight at you without much blinking, the thrree of you huddling together as the door opened.

“Go in! come on.”

Ms. Cha bolted out at the opposite direction, she was not going to clean that up. Ryan wondered what could you’ve possibly had done, for him to be so absentminded when he picked him up, there was no urgency this time… heck he would had agreed to stay there for an extra 10 minutes without complaint.

It didn’t hit you at first until you noticed the cat tree by the window towering over the living room, and a child squealing as he spotted the two cats hiding under the coffee table.

“Toaster and Blender.” he gestured towards the worried cats– now you and I let's go to the kitchen for a chat.”

“You… You… oh my god…” 

Fuck him, you ignored him live this time– you jumped after the cats, Ryan aready snatching the fat tabby the moment it lifted its neck out the table, taking the other and squeeling like a lil' girl.

“I love it… oh my god you are so cute!! Can we keep it!?”

“Dad are we keeping them!!?

A thousand yard stare cemented in his eyes, underestimating the power of cats had in people, even Ashley had cooed at the critters.

“Yes. But you two have to clean the litter boxes.”

"I love you, Dad!!"

That conversation did not take place until after dinner, something about childhood excitement being shared by you two was far too overwhelming and hectic for the already stressed hero, you washed dishes as Homelander entered the kitchen.

“What was that today?”

The cats eat by the entrance, and it seems that wet food alleviated all their anxieties, specially at 4 dollars a can.

“A lot of mob front restaurants use high quality ingredients– I was organizing something for Dolores' private Epulary.”

“Bullshit.”

“Look I was in a room full of mobsters who could’ve killed me before you broke their door.”

“You could’ve called me later.”

“John. I’m Sorry but I was busy–

“I did that for you!” He pointed at the cats– what else do you want!? You’re still ignoring me! Acting distant– like what the fuck!” He shouted sounded more wounded than angry, exasperated in his panting.

“I wasn’t ignoring you, I was busy! I told you I was going to be busy!” You dried your hands, bothered that he was in his suit– I was hunting!! God fucking dammit John I been tagging these two whores for days!!”

You threw the towel.

“Hunting?  Wait you– you’re still killing people?”

“Not since you and I. God I thought the drugs made me happy but… ” You slumped onto the kitchen floor, just letting your legs give up– I need this. I need it… this is a different sort of adrenaline than sex or drugs and I like it. Oh god I fucking love it– I didn’t think I actually did! and you kept coming home covered in blood like you’re rubbing it in my face that I couldn’t!”

He stood frozen, his chin tucked, looking down at the mewling cat as if it asked him if they both heard the same thing.

“I love this. I love you.” You whined– I love domesticity but god I need to feel high!!– I don’t mind it, I am stressed and I haven’t hung out with my bestie in a while, either. Look, I'm just gonna kill these whores, have a girls night and then I’m all yours… is not fair you get to have all the fun.”

“Oh. Pumpkin you could have said something– communication is key to a successful relationship!”  There he was signing with relief blowing raspberries trying not to chuckle– "If you needed it, you could have asked me I could’ve brought you somebody!”

“No!” He looked offended suddenly– Look. Is the hunt that makes the kill fun, the trailing, the selecting, the ever fluctuating levels of difficulty… you do this in perpetual ‘easy mode’-- I don’t.” You smacked your head back– I got these girls, they got lots of friends, close family who will notice the moment they are missing, full-time work with lots of close colleagues and dependants… when girls like that go missing and nobody ever finds out what happens– that’s my bliss.”

A few red flags waved in his head but he ignored them because at least you were being honest with yourself and him, your speech back during your first fight must’ve been denial he thought.

“As long as you see their beady little eyes cloud–

“Boring!” you sang.

“Thought you hated it.” he picked the cream feline– Poor Toaster had to hear us scream.”

He takes his place beside you, cat still in arms.

“Me too. You remember the cat’s name before your own kids bestfriends?”

He had no reply to that.

“Why kill people for dinner?”

So he didn't.

“Rich fucks pay a lot of money to see pretty girls murdered while they eat spaghetti… they bid to select the method.”

“Can I help? I mean if you needed to kill people you could’ve asked me instead of being a bitc– being so mean to me.” He caught himself but you didn’t mind his slip.

“Maybe next time…?” you bit your lips– I was worried that if I was embracing this side of me… you… would be grossed out, and you wouldn't like me anymore.”

“Babe. Pumpkin.” He cooed, He kissed your temples, nudging closer as he softly petted the cat’s side– I said I would take all your bad… I bet you would look so beautiful covered in blood.”

“You certainly do.”

You took your phone showing him a picture of Firecracker’s friend.

“She has lots of followers on Instagram… and her feet pics sell really well– just look at that ass!”

“Wow! You think is better than mine?” he pouted– I bet she would even look pretty when you kill her.”

“Oh fuck no, Your ass could cause an earthquake with that bounce.” you kissed his chin laughing into him– I’ll take some pictures for you, if ya like…?”

You purred, he pictured your tasteful nudes arriving in the middle of a meeting, seeing your sensuous shape covered in this cheap whore waiting for him to clean up.

Oh there was a prideful glimmer in his eyes, his hand stroking the fur– addictively soft, there was a lot of fur throws around the house, perhaps in the recess of his mind a deprivation of textures had brought a subconscious fascination with fur, he mindlessly stroke the feline and you wondered if somehow your powers had influence his decision, this cat looked somewhat like his mother’s– the cat began to purr, and you both sat there looking at the overweight animal as it nestled itself comfortably in defeat.

Your cheek resting on his arm with an eagle picking at your scalp.

“Ooklynn is not a real name.”

“Well her parents are white… her middle name is Meribeth if you prefer.”

“Becca did right by calling him Ryan. Ryan is nice, simple, easy, perfect.”

to be cont.

[clarktooncrossing]

Giraffe's Eye View: Christmas Specials Special (2023) | From All Of Us to All Of You

Chestnuts are roasting on an open fire. Jack Frost is nipping at your nose. Mom and dad can hardly wait for school to start again. All the dogs in the neighborhood somehow learned to bark Jingle Bells in sync. Yet retail workers are still more annoyed with Mariah Carey. Snow is getting shoveled, tossed, and formed into sentient beings leading parades without permits. It makes for an excellent distraction as the Krampus abducts children for bad behavior. Fruitcake is exchanged only to find its permanent home in the garbage. Terrorists have hijacked the Holiday office party right before your boss can give you a Jelly of the Month Club membership as your bonus. And of course, the Turducken has returned to wreak its fiery vengeance upon an unsuspecting world! If all this doesn’t put you in the Christmas spirit, perhaps these following Holiday specials will!

Greetings people of today and robots of tomorrow! It is I, Santa Clark, your geeky giraffe friend with a deep love of Christmas! My obsession for the yuletide is rivaled only by Maleficent’s hatred for it, which is saying a lot considering she once teamed up with Mad Madam Mim to kidnap the literal Spirit of Christmas. Yes, that really happened. I know this due to my annual pilgrimage to the Island of Misfit Specials, home to obscure or nerdy festive media ranging from movies, TV episodes, and comics. It’s no easy journey. Constantly I find myself confronted by sinister snowmen, genocidal gingerbread men, and worst of all, crappy commercials. Getting stabbed in the foot by a candy-cane wielding cookie is one thing, but I swear I’ve seen that ad for Wilbur’s White Elephant Gift Emporium more times than I’ve seen Miracle on 34th Street! Sometimes at night I catch myself reciting that jingle. Wilbur’s White Elephant Gift Emporium: Where Christmas meets Convenience! Huh, maybe Maleficent had a point.

Nah, my deep-rooted appreciation for this time of year can weather even the most moronic marketing! It helps that most of the merry media I’ve seen have put me in the perfect Holiday mood! Examples include the time a Ninja Turtle found himself trapped in a truck full of stollen toys, a drunk department store Santa stumbling onto a wish-granting magic bag, Big Bird nearly becoming a popsicle, Gwenpool waking up in a world where Galactus took the place of jolly ol’ Saint Nicholas, a terrifying tree stump trying to slaughter some saps over a stupid ship war, and the year when Death gave the Little Match Girl the greatest gift of all. Needless to say, I thought I had seen it all. That is, until I took my friends on a trip to the Island, tasking them to find me new, strange, seasonal specials to review! Some of them were fair, finding me festive favorites as comforting as coco in front of the fireplace. Others were fiendish, wanting to feed off my misery like Gremlins after midnight. Regardless of how naughty or nice my companions were, I’ve compiled all of their suggestions into a makeshift advent calendar! So stay tuned everyday until Christmas to see how badly my buddies can shred what little sanity I have left.

On the thirteenth day of Christmas, my buddies gave to me...

Being a Disney fan today is hard. The parks have been ravaged, their films flop on arrival, their continued downplaying of animation is annoying, and don’t even get me started on how they handled this year’s Writer / Actor Strike. Not to say there’s no diamonds hidden in the rough every now and again, but for the most part the buzzards running the Mouse House believe in profits not pixie dust. Worse, they have forgotten the most crucial ingredient to any creative undertaking: risk. Go big or go home, make a splash or stay dry, spending money makes money. Perhaps no one knew this better than Walt Disney himself. The man mortgaged his home to finance Snow White, nearly drove his company to bankruptcy to build Disneyland, and embraced television when the rest of Hollywood cowered in fear of it. He understood that television could be a powerful marketing tool that could help his brand grow in the long haul. Ironic, innit? Uncle Walt became a beloved figure through the small screen, hosting the Disneyland series and making a brief appearance at the opening from From All Of Us to All Of You. Premiering in 1958, the seasonal special proved so popular that it airs along with a sampling of various shorts to this day in other countries. Including Sweden, home to the rambunctious robotroll SIM-N (Finjix), himself having fond memories of watching it with his family. Being a classic Disney fan myself, I was actually eager to see if the hype the malicious machine was peddling was valid.

A pity it’s not on Disney+! First the Star Wars Holiday special, then Snowed in at the House of Mouse, and now this!? You advertised everything would be on there, Bobby Boi. What gives!? Thankfully where you fail, the Internet succeeds! Let’s just say I found a copy well archived on a specific site. It also had One Hour in Wonderland, Walt’s original Holiday offering from 1950. Sadly it was nothing special, just the Magic Mirror from Snow White showing clips from several projects to Kathryn Beaumont, Bobby Driscoll, Edgar Burgen and his iconic puppet pals. Aside from Walt’s daughters Diane and Sharon making a brief cameo, this trip to Wonderland is only notable for how many times it promotes Coca Cola. Man, is anybody else thirsty for a Sunkist?

Let’s pop a cold one and we can check out From All Of Us together! 

Walt, now the same size as Tinkerbell, welcomes us to the program. He wishes everyone at home a Merry Christmas before  turning things over to the real musical Masters of Ceremony; Jiminy Cricket (Cliff Edwards) and Mickey Mouse. Together on piano the cartoon celebrities sing a rousing rendition of The Little Drummer Boy mixed with Peace on Earth! Or rather Jiminy just shows off his collection of Christmas cards. Each card cues up a segment from a beloved animated feature that’ll already has or will be unnecessarily rebooted in live-action. Which features depend on the version you're watching, this recreation including Bambi, Peter Pan, Cinderella, Pinocchio, Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, along with two additional short films, Toy Tinkerers and Santa’s Workshop. The former features famous foul Donald Duck (Clarence Nash) comically dueling against Chip and Dale in toy warfare, the latter showing Santa prepping at the Pole for his annual sleigh ride. It also features an unfortunate bit of blackface, something I hope is cut from reruns. At least they didn’t show an entire segment from Song of the South like One Hour did. Remember folks, Disney’s most controversial film was once endorsed by Coca-Cola!

Overall, From All Of Us is decent blend of Holiday warmth and Disney magic, a warm cup of cocoa laced with a pleasant amount of pixie dust. However, I feel like it’s unnecessary in this modern age. Call me crazy, but why watch this clip show when I’ve seen these movies in their entirety via VHS, DVD, Blu-Ray, or streaming? For SIM-N, the answer is comforting nostalgia. While I might see it as regifted film scenes with barely any new material, SIM-N sees it as an excuse to get together with his family and watch the moments that made us realize magic was real. Knowing that makes this special a yuletide treasure in my book. Still, if you want some comforting Christmas capers centered around Mickey Mouse, I can do you one better. Or should I say three better?

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[iraniq]

Surreptitious

It was a normal morning, it waking time could be called a “morning”. The underwater reek was specifically strong today, but you were used to it by now.

The breakfast was something between puke and partially molted – delicious for this geographic place. The biggest terror was the boredom, nothing to do here, but slowly perish. But today was a good day – you all would have a new toy to play. They announced their arrival last night to agitate you. The simple mined ones were in fact eager, you – not so much!

621 to population! – the warden yelled as he pushed a man inside.

He was rather skinny, some punk boy who had recently discovered he was born wrong, because this is where the defective ones go.

The Box was the most underrated metahuman prison in the world. Simply because men/women did not know of it’s existence. Men/women who were born “wrong” thought the bullets will kill them, but death was a blessing. Here … here was the real Hell.

The skinny boy just stood there, looking around. Some of the simple minded attacked him. He turned out to be quite skilled fighter … for someone his size.

Skinny punk boy spend the next year participating in the underground fights and won a higher place in the prison community. You assumed he was some kind of a gangster outside, since he had the thinking of one – establish power, learn/earn advantage – use it to become lethal.

No one bothered you tho. Not after what happened 4 years ago. It was yet another sunny /artificial lights have been replaced and now the dim light was blinding/ afternoon when appeared as dark haired, but not actually, boy approached. In the close distance you saw he was actually a grown man, mid 30s maybe, which explained some of his skills. One that come with specific age experience. And the brown hair was actually dark green.

So what is your deal. – he casually sad, sliding an orange pudding your way.

The orange colored were the least gross. He was obviously properly schooled by whoever ratted.

You just nodded and started eating with less than a zero care.

I learned you are one of the bosses around, since I became one last night … - he waited, for what, you to congratulate him, you just shoved another spoon of the orange goo in your mouth. – Well  figured we might team up. I have the lizard people and the molesters … - you choked, really, the molesters … - Yeah, yeah I know … he put a strand of his hair away. They want to leave the most. So … I was thinking, you might want to join us too.

Do you even know who I am.

You are her, the one who ate an alive human 37 years ago, you are an urban legend.

Am I .. you air creatures definitely need a hobby.

We do have one … urban legends.

Do you know what happened 4 years ago?

You killed some extra strong freak of an experiment gone wrong metahuman with 2 hits. Been a fan since I found out! – you make him choke on his blood while munching on his liver, so yes,2 hits. He was technically right!

So you do have a type! – you motioned to the snake eyed girl that has been tailing him the last several months.

Oh no … I don’t  do attachment. We are just having fun!

Well … then I a hard pass!

You want to date me peach, I am flattered.

You choked on his silly joke. Poor skinny punk boy had no idea who you were.

Tell me your name skinny punk boy!

The one and only – Joker. – he dramatically pointed at himself – Also know as The Clown Prince of  Crime, Ace of Knaves, Harlequin of Hate, Mime of Destruction, Grand Mogul of Mountebanks, Thin White Duke! – the last one fitted his skinny ass.

Excuse you, but the one One who wears the “Thin White Duke” is David Bowie.

Where do you think I stole it from! – he proudly winked at you.

You forgot “Jester of Genocide” and “King of Gotham”.

So you know me.

I was bored … - and the orange goo was over. – I will listen to you when you get me a new one. – you just got up and walked away.

You did not see His Royal Majesty for a while. Then one day he popped up, extra happy … happy for this place, this man was nuts!

Ready peach? We drift off in 3 days.

You know I can rat you on the guards right. I will be getting my orange pudding for a week.

Come on sweetheart, you look bored, tell me there are better places to be than here.

You know how I got here?

He shrugged.

I chose to! The outside world was too chaotically boring. I like the order here.

Wow … so very dramatic? Are you joining us or what.

I told you, tell me your name!

I did!

Not the one you chose for yourself, the one your poor single dad gave you, after your mom overdosed at the factory she worked in and died, also there, on that heat summer night. The last one Gotham had … in 29 years. – the pale punk boy got even whiter.

How …

I am special, this s a metahuman prison after all. You have less than zero powers, why are you here?

I …

Careful! – you pointed at your lips – lies cost lives here!

Normal prisons can’t hold me, Gotham’s wanted me permanently dead and since they failed at doing so, they send me here.

Ah yes, the scar!

How do you know!

Your mane boy! – you raised your voice and half the creatures around just left the place.

Wow …

Name!

He sighted, like the effort of revealing was physically painful!

Jack Joseph Napier.

Sweet! So you know who you are, you are sane, so sane it makes you nuts to live in this world, that feels like a delusional dream!

So you are here because of this!

Yes! And to answer your questions, I see your soul. And your life until this very moment, like I am watching a movie … not gonna talk about the lizard thing..

Please don’t! – he laughed, and for the first time in 67 years you felt a person being genuine about something.

I can’t leave and be outside in the open air alone, I need a soul to be bound to, since I don’t have one. I was created by … the last semen of a dying man and some virgin to be  prostitute when the first artificial insemination was created.

Wow … like that book “Alraune” by Hanns Heinz Ewers.

Where do you think they stole it from! – it was your turn to proudly wink at him.

Neat! So you can hypnotize people to do your bidding?

Sort of! I also consume one’s essence for a living.

So what, you eat souls?

Sort of, I consume the soul and the life spawn of the creature with it.

How old are you?

Don’t you know to never ask a lady this!

The process was created in 1922… so 100?

Close, 93.

So… how…

One bonds to a soul!

Yeah?

You pledge yours to me, I will bite out of it and place it where mine is supposed to be.

Kinky … buy why you don’t have one.

A Soul Eater powers is unlocked by one eating their own.

Not so kinky! – he made  face like the food in his imaginary plate was gross.

You laughed, this was a funny one.

How did you get in and how will you go out.

My ex – Harls got herself a new lover, her so called best friend Gre… Pamela. So now my arch nemesis Batsy will get me out. Since I am the only one that can help him against the League of Shadows…

Shush… too much info! Fine … we will make a deal, you give me a bite of your soul and a ticket out and I will help you in your endeavors.

You will be my bad ass sidekick.

You rolled your eyes.

No…you are a sneaky one … I will present you as m weird talisman, you will barely say a thing and all will think I kidnapped you or something, they will think you are of value … will try and quite possibly grab you, offer you deals, include you in big plots, confess their love …

That is so boring. – humans always thought love was something important.

They will tell you some fancy stories, their deepest secrets even … you will be on 1st row of all the drama … you love it don’t you!

Yes! – and for the 1st time in 37 years, since you came in, a sparkle bloomed into you. Finally a nice drama to involve yourself in.

What do I win tho? – he got the dirt out of one of his nails.

Immortality. I am an eternal entity who can not die. As long as I am pleased with the surroundings of mine. You will share my immortality and higher for humans strength and healing.

Wow … and all this for a tiny piece of my soul.

Yes – you smiled wickedly.

What if you get bored?

I will consume your essence and move on to another.

Then I will make sure to keep you entertained my darling.

You smiled, baring all your teeth.

I’ll be damned. I am in. – he stretched his hand. – should we seal the deal with a kiss? – he joked.

Yes, yes we should! – his surprised lasted less than a half blink and then your lips crashed his.

He did not felt anything. Even laughed about a kinkier sensations. You smiled and breathed in.

Three days later, as promised his weird bat fetish friend unsealed the hatch and fresh air came in – no hallucinogens and sedatives. You felt it, it was the middle of the night on your schedule, but it was a bright afternoon for the rest of the world, their last one.

The Box’s inmates were awoken by a scream. A scream like nothing else, even you got the chills. You entered their dreams, feeding on fear, then enter their waking minds, shifting reality. Then you absorbed their souls and nothing but dust was left. Your new friend told the sad dressed in black child that some experiment gone wrong was horror  downstairs “no one can be saved”, he said, not knowing there was nothing to be saved. You consumed them all! He sort of felt it, as your essence flew by him … like the ashes you left behind you, you roamed the open world, looking for some innocent girl’s body to inhabit, as you and J had agreed upon the settled scenario!

Let the games begin!

-------------------

inspire by @diyunho 's story vibes!

@loki-hargreeves i know you will like it

haven't done that in a while ... dunno who to tag. Enjoy you all i guess!

[want2belikegracekelly]

Will They? Won't They?

Who would have thought that just slightly over 100 days to the US election the Democratic nominee and incumbent president would pull out of the presidential race?

Like JB just ran unopposed while looking like a slightly alive corpse. The mummy is real it is JB! He was being blown away by the wind and doing some very worrisome antics like acting like your grandpa just before he goes down for his nap and he is stopping conversations mid sentences, staring into space and referring to people as who they are not. All these traits are okay for your oppa but not for the running again presidential candidate. Since the primaries last year everyone was wondering is he cognitive enough to make it coz we have watched his rapid decline with awe and very much fear. dread. Would dude tap out?

Nope. Blue Maga literally hollered was he’s okay, "you know he’s the best we have to defeat Cheeto". We were all like whaaatttt??

Really with all them actually alive people over there and you are relying on just about to die man. This was all in the backdrop of his loosing popularity over the genocide in Gaza.

P.S if you don’t agree there is a genocide in GAZA GTFOH and stop perusing my page this is and will always be FREE PALESTINE forever.

The blue party should have just listened to critics of JB aka the mummy and actually held nominations instead of endorsing a walking disaster. The usual bullying tactics of declaring how, not cognitive man was the final boss stopping fascism and everyone was like, is this a puppet government where there is another white man actually running the government while corpse man signs the decrees. it was giving Denny crane being managed. Denny Crane was hilarious though and did not hold the key to the nuclear codes

Now it is team Kamala, a name that many people of the ghost complexion are finding hard to pronounce. Why? Still unclear yet they can pronounce the first and last name of the president of Ukraine which is phonetically more challenging. I will leave that to your own deductions.

Team Kamala is in and there comes the big question will Blue MAGA's biggest rabid attack dogs, white women, rally behind her?

The white feminist of the blue party persuasion are Katniss cosplayers who quote The Handmaid's tale while wearing T Shirts proclaiming, "We Are THe Witches YOu Couldn't Burn". Very girl power girl boss type shit. their greatest weakness is that they refuse to learn or even acknowledge intersectionality. Here come trouble here comes the danger (IYKYk) because Kamala is a black woman will they choose to look past their own disdain for the wisdom of the black women and actually get her to the presidency

we are talking about a demographic who have constantly voted against their own interests. Let us not forget it was over 51% of white women that allowed Trump Chapter 1 to become a reality. This election will be determined by how white women talk among themselves and finally read and understand intersectionality and rally their troops

This episode in the US elections is just another example of when a white man has caused a huge mess and then hands over the reins of the almost derailing train to a woman (even better if she is a woman of color) and all the consequences are now on her shoulder.

Now we are in the hold you breathe moments with intriguing episodes with so many unanswered questions:

will white women finally get with intersectionality?

how much extreme racist talking points will be the center point of the red party campaigns?

will Kamala have better to offer than the usual defeat Evil motto that has been carrying democrats since time immemorial?

will white women ever read The Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler?

Also, big ups to the black men who have posted their insidious nonsense of how they'd rather be slaves than vote for a black woman. Harriet Tubman would have left you behind Uncle Ruckus!!