#sincerely sewer rat

[sewinrat]

What if the reader is Randal's twin sister that is always calm and quiet but yet more intimidating than the rest of the ivory household and is always abusing or scaring Sebastian?

It's just something I made up in my head! 😭

Only if you have the chance to do so, of course!

Hey I know I disappeared but I'm going to break my own rule to give you all content

*Reader implied to be female. Also this will not be a fic, just those headcanons thingy

Being Randal's More Intimidating Twin Sister;

Goodness, Randal would never have a boring day if he decides to watch your torture sessions daily

He definitely doesn't like how quiet you are but Nyen and Nyon are the same and he doesn't have a not-fun day watching them so he lets it be. But he's definitely forcing you everywhere with him. You are his twin after all and two is better than one as the humans say!

Clothing wise I'd say a Japanese school girl outfit with blazer and wearing gloves to match Randal's outfit. Honestly it doesn't matter what you want to wear as long as the colour is inverted of Randal's. White outfit and black gloves. You wear glasses but most often contact lenses. The feeling of them intrigued you but glasses are also usually a hindrance in your day to day activities.

The day when Luther gifted the both of you a human pet, you are ecstatic. Your face doesn't show but Randal knows and he's ecstatic as electric as well. Both of you have the dynamic of Maud and Pinkie that's why he can tell. The day after that is the day Sebastian the human pet learns true fear.

You are unnerving and rightfully so. Especially when you keep chasing after him with those garden shears. If Randal has scissors, you have bigger scissors. You like to snip snip Sebastian's body parts. Hair, legs, hand, you get the point. You won't necessarily kill him on purpose, only by accident but Luther will stop you when Sebastian's at the brink of death. Which he wished for more than escaping after weeks upon weeks of torture. Too bad Randal is enjoying this too much which encourages your behaviour.

More often than not, Luther had to tell you to clean up your mess after you finish your fun activity. He doesn't encourage it but he doesn't stop you as well because in his words, who is he to stop his little sister discovering her hobbies and enjoying them.

Two peas in a pod the both of you. It doesn't matter how different you both are, you're still twins. If anyone knows anything about twins, is that somehow they have a deeper bond than with anyone else around them. If you mess with one of them, you have to deal with the other or together if you wanna get messy.

Nyen won't say it out loud obviously but he much prefers you over Randal if we're talking about violence and perfect fit to be the next heir if it ever comes to that. I mean obviously because we're speaking the American cat here. If he's 'lucky', you might spar him one on one. Nyon on the other hand definitely avoids you like the plague. Not a fighter and definitely does not want to be your next experiment but too bad for him, you're still above him in ranks.

Satoru won't favour you more than Randal but he'll definitely ask for your help to make him 'real' to which you happily complied. Remember that spider girl in Vol.2 and Avalona Mercury? Yeah they're your besties. Don't ask how but they just naturally are. Unless you're someone who seeks to pursue a relationship with one of them which I guess go off. No one really cares.

Known as well as the ratmen's worst nightmare. They wish to never come across you ever or else they're better off as a taxidermy head on top of a fireplace. Even if there's a slight chance they'll be let off uninjured, there's a high chance they'll end up getting owned or dead.

Wednesday Addams kinnie I just realised but hey maybe that's what you wanted.

Randal would definitely dragged you into his own mess by making you dress up as him and take the blame. Sometimes you let him do whatever he wants, other times he ends up bloodied.

Ranfren Characters thoughts on You(ooc);

Randal: "You've met my twin?! Oo! Oo! How are they?! Did you have fun with her?! She's really fun to play with especially with those shears of hers!" Excited to rant about his twin. Get comfortable or not because he can go on and on and on.

Luther: "Ah yes. She's quite a delight isn't she? I just wish she wouldn't leave such a bloody mess everywhere and anywhere she wants but oh well~ I can't stop her from enjoying what she loves doing." Dismissive yet acknowledged. Just don't get blood on the new carpet or curtains and you're good like you're avoiding angering your mother too much but brother instead.

Nyen: "Would love to fight against once. With her next in line, everything will definitely turn for the worst but it'll be very fun." Nothing else to say except he gives more respects to you than to Randal but won't admit it.

Nyon: Like I said, avoids you like the plague. It got to the point where he can't come up with an opinion on you because his mind goes automatically to 'avoid her alert'. That's not to say he hates you, he could never hate his master's family, he just rather not be under your torture sessions.

Sebastian: "Please don't tell me she's behind me." Shivering scared little thing. He likes his limbs to be intact 24/7 of course so even by the mention of you have his thoughts rapidly flashed the flight or fight instinct. But it's only flight no fight. He's not that bold.

Bonus! Tsukada Satoru: "Randal's twin is nice. She helps me when I needed her most especially when it comes to hurting. Glad to see her interacting well with those two." He's too much focused on Randal to care but since you're Randal's other half, his literal twin, he has to care enough about you.

[sewinrate]

Go to @sewinrat if you're gonna request me a Ranfren x reader

[sewinrat]

I'll volunteer

However, the fic, it might not be the one you want so I'll make two

WHY we need more satoru tsukada from ranfren vol 2 x reader fanfics.

hello tumblr. you will not address me with a name or anything of the sort. i am simply the thing eating away at the back of your head that leech onto every single thought that you ever so have. even now maybe i’m in there. who knows.

i’ve grown sentience to tell all of you ranfreners on tumblr something that my friend kept bugging me to ask, WHERE is the satoru fanfics? and no, i don’t mean the ones with randal. those are very fruitful, yes. highly recommend them especially the one that made me weep while shitting on the toilet. but… 

*i sigh as i tuck a single strand of hair behind my ear* w-w-w-w-why not me..? i want a cute anime boy with a box cutter in some dream world to harvest MY organs, not randals. :/// my point is that no i can not write whatsoever and if i do i’ll be publicly humiliated by everyone in the fandom as they throw tomatos at me

okay, we’re getting a little bit off topic, so. here is a list of reasons why satoru tsukada x reader fanfiction DESERVES to exist

1. satoru tsukada is a very complex and multi-dimensional  character in the surrealist webcomic ‘randal’s friends’ otherwise known as ranfren created by the person living inside my walls named captainhowie. even though he is only fairly recently introduced in the series, satoru is a rather well written character, considering the fact that he

2. 

3. im desperate

[marzipanxx]

guys please hear me out

[vanglaggle]

day 4: compliments

[jinxxed-vexx]

My infamy travels past the reaches of Twitter. >:)

Also for anyone wondering the lore of my name...it's from this meme.

I just thought it was the funniest shit I'd ever seen like three years ago and I haven't changed it since.

[stewy]

i saw your tags about cameron being more similar to house than wilson and if you have any notes or explanations on that i'd love to hear them! cameron is such an interesting character and i feel like she's really not analyzed enough

she isn't! idk if it's because people simply forget the earlier seasons as they progress with the show, but they forget cameron is an actual character who is written as consistently as any other character in the show save for house himself. not liking her is one thing but to dismiss her as if she isn't one of the most important people in house's life when her love literally got him out of that building is. lol

cam and wilson have a lot of similarities: they’re self-sacrificing to a detrimental extent, they value social niceties and acts of kindness, caring and empathetic, multiple marriages, in love with a sewer rat, etc. but they sort of stop there. cameron is a strongly moral character; wilson’s morals are flexible to the point of being barely there. cameron won’t sacrifice her values for the sake of making anyone feel better; all that wilson cares about is making other people feel better, preferably to his own detriment. cameron is much more sensitive and emotionally driven than wilson imo, you can see her actively struggle to put her feelings in the backseat in pretty much every situation, while that seems to come as second nature to wilson (though cameron gets better at that through experience). but she is also much more stable and true to herself than wilson, who struggles with letting his true feelings show with anyone other than house (simply because he knows his friend won’t give a shit). you see house call cameron “pathetically sincere” and that’s something you’d never hear him say about wilson considering his pathology is that he loves Everybody, with no discrimination. i think their specialties also speak to their own personalities: wilson is an oncologist, all of his patients already have cancer and most likely will die from it; his job is to treat them but it’s also to make them feel better about their imminent fate. cameron is an immunologist, taking care of someone’s autoimmune system with the sole focus of getting them stronger. this is also their approach to house himself btw

house and cameron are two sides of the same coin. a lot of people would disagree with me & hugh laurie in saying that house is a strongly moral character, but he is. the difference between himself & cameron is that he doesn't care what people do with their lives. if someone wants to kill themselves after he's done treating them, that's their problem. even when she despised the patient, she couldn't dare to see them live in pain (informed consent) or to play god and kill them herself (the tyrant). they're both extremely sensitive, stubborn and closed off. isolating themselves to the point of making their significant others (stacy and chase) feel lonely in the relationship. they both often look insane to everyone else, but have an innate understanding of each other. cameron opened herself up to house in a way she could never do with chase because she saw him, and she was the only person he truly emotionally connected with other than wilson. she was bothered by his impersonality and he was bothered by her sensitivity, because she wore with pride something he thought made him (and other humans) lesser. they tried to bring characters like masters & adams (even park?) to act as foil to house but it didn't work because they lacked what cameron and house had: a relationship.

[imliketheiceifreeze]

Recombinant Miles Quaritch x OC

My Little Scientist- Chapter One

Warnings: Smut themes, Minors DNI

2,182 words

Blue skin glistening with sweat moved over bulging muscles that showed years of dedication, beads of sweat dripping down a long neck before pooling at the clavicle. Gaia's tongue instinctively dipped out of her mouth to lick her lips.

"Quit eye fucking the colonel for once Gaia."

"I was not!"

She spat, tearing her eyes away from his tall form as he commanded his troupes so effortlessly in the heat of the Pandoran sun.

"Oh you so were, you've got it baaad for him."

Her good friend and fellow scientist June smirked.

"Ugh as if, that man is so.."

She trailed off, thankful to be interrupted by Mike.

"What are we talking about here ladies?"

He asked, slapping his food tray down beside them both, taking a seat next to June.

"Oh just Gaia's hopeless crush on Colonel Quaritch."

"Pahahah, oh I would not have expected that."

They both teased, much too loud for her liking as she covered her cheeks in her palms, attempting to hide her heated face.

"I DO NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON THE COLONEL."

She all but screeched, taking an aggressive bite from the bread roll in front of her.

"Oh so you just want to fuck him then, coz honey the way you looked at that man I thought you were about to go into heat,"

June jibed, both her and mike howling with laughter at their own hilarious nature.

"How would it even work? I mean their dicks must be at least 15 inches,"

Mike chipped in, watching intently as Junes eyes crinkled with laughter, small tear droplets forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Now who's the one thinking about their dicks?"

Gaia only mumbled, attempting to ignore them both to steal another glance at the colonel out on the field. She really didn't have a crush on him, as a scientist she just appreciated the technology it took to create such a brilliant warrior's physique- was all she thought as her eyes glazed over his massive forearms, striped like a tigers fur.

"There she goes again, earth to Gaia,"

June snapped her fingers in front of her face making her glower.

"Wow you really need to get laid,"

another man you didn't know too well mused, obviously eavesdropping on your conversation.

"Go away Abe, only me and Mike are allowed to tease Gaia, I'll absolutely destroy you if you upset my baby,"

June giggled, pinching her cheeks and cooing, causing her to swat her hand away and grumble in annoyance.

"Can you and Mike stop flirting in front of me its making me sick,"

she narrowed your eyes at Mike whilst June pretended to dry heave dramatically.

"Oh stop being grumpy because a certain someone hasn't noticed you,"

Mike Laughed halfheartedly, pushing at her forehead.

"Why don't you try and make a move Gai?"

June questioned, for once in sincerity. She were silent in thought for a moment before answering honestly.

"Come on, the Colonel's not gonna go for a girl like me,"

her eyes cast downwards a little as she attempted to hide her disappointment.

"Don't be like that, you're gorgeous trust me,"

June stroked her arm softly to cheer her up.

"You have to say that you're my friend,"

she whined, tipping her head back in frustration.

"Um I certainly do not, I can tell Mike he looks exactly like a sewer rat even though we're friends."

"Hey!"

Mike slapped her arm playfully causing them to fall into another argument as Gaia tuned out, thoughts mainly focused on a certain soldier and how they looked during strenuous physical exercise.

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

After her lunch, Gaia had settled back into the lab, running through various samples of Pandoran plants, yielding fascinating results about the connection between the planet and every living being. It truly was a wonderful place and how she wished she could inhabit her very own recombinant body.

A firm knock at the door ripped her from her thoughts and her eyes almost popped out of her skull at the sight of the Colonel himself stooping underneath the doorframe to enter her own tucked away laboratory.

"ahem,"

he cleared his throat, seeming a little out of place in such a small room.

"I was told I'd find the Na'vi expert here,"

he gestured to her, keeping a wide stance with one hand resting on his belt loops.

"Um I wouldn't say expert,"

she faltered, causing his gaze to harden.

"But I mean, I'm one of the scientists currently studying the interactions between Pandora and the organisms that inhabit it,"

she babbled nervously, the catlike golden eyes in front of her causing her to stutter as they seemed intent on holding her gaze.

"Gaia Ambros?"

He questioned, raising a brow, seemingly unimpressed at her insecure nature.

"Yep that's me sir."

"Well then.."

His grimace turned into a predatory smile, eyes glowing as they bored into her own intensely,

"They tell me that you're the expert round here darlin', How's about you give me some lessons in this whole Na'vi bullshit?"

He cocked his head to the side, causing her cheeks to heat up further at the nickname as she struggled not to let her eyes drop to admire his impressive form up close.

"uh...lessons?"

She asked incredulously, biting the inside of her cheek nervously.

"That's what I said lil' darlin', I don't like repeating myself,"

he tutted, growing impatient with this drawn out conversation.

"Um, well I guess I can teach you what I know about Pandora if you want sir... when would you like me to?"

She asked, craning her neck from her seated position to meet his eyes once again.

"In the evening at 19:00 sharp, come to my office,"

he commanded, not acknowledging nor thanking her for her offer as he turned to stride away, ducking under the door frame and vanishing as quickly as he had appeared, leaving her head spinning with possibilities as she tried to refocus herself on the samples in front of her that had long since lost their intrigue.

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

"He did what?"

June screeched in her ear as she tried to hush her on her way to the canteen.

"He just said he wanted lessons about Pandora,"

she attempted to speak calmly, knowing she had her first little meeting in only a few hours.

"Lessons my ass, there's gotta be another reason he wants you all alone in his office at night,"

she wiggled her eyebrows at Gaia.

"Maybe he just wants some relief after his long hard days as a Colonel, it must be so difficult,"

she mused, dropping into a deep register to impersonate his voice,

"Oh Gaia just try to fit it in, just the tip will be enough, yeah that's it, there's a good little scientist."

Gaia practically shoved her into the wall, storming off in front of her, attempting to purge the dirty scenarios out of her mind before she would have to be in a room alone with the man.

"Oh come on I was just teasing,"

June pouted at her, hoping to win her forgiveness.

"Sure,"

she murmured, taking her seat at the usual table beside Mike and a few of the other scientists. June then began a dramatic retelling of her story with the Colonel to the whole table, causing giggles to be heard all round as Gaia hung her head in shame, trying to fill the pit in her stomach with the food in front of you.

"Oh yeah, I set that up,"

Mike stated nonchalantly as he continued to eat the stew and stale bread provided by the RDA.

"You what?"

Gaia finally tuned back in, confusion set in her features as she wondered how on earth he could have.

"Pulled a few strings, got some RDA soldier mates and higher ups you know, just recommended you for one of their special missions, said you were keen to work with the Colonel yada yada... I guess it's not something they hear everyday,"

he snorted, making her eyes widen in shock for the second time that day. Cursing out at the thought that the whole ship now practically thinks she's begging for the Colonel's dick and she wished the ground could swallow her then and there.

"You can thank me later,"

he smirked, patting her back smugly as she sat stunned, still processing the news.

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

7pm unfortunately rolled around far too quickly and Gaia trudged her feet towards the huge recombinant Colonel's office, somewhat terrified of what would occur.

"Well there you are goldilocks, you gonna come in or stand there all day?"

Herr mouth ran dry, looking up at the sneering man as he gestured her into his office- equipped with an enormous chair, desk, even a Na'vi sized coffee mug sat on the table. It all made her feel a bit like Alice in wonderland if she was honest.

"Yes sir,"

she mumbled, stepping in tentatively and looking around in bewilderment

"Oh take a seat wherever you want darlin',"

he jutted his chin out, referencing her awkward stance as he calmly lowered himself in the chair behind his desk. So she took the liberty of attempting to drag another large chair to the opposite side of the table in order to face him, failing miserably as she found she was unable to even move the thing an inch, huffing in frustration at the pathetic display.

"Oh right, sorry there,"

a voice rang out from behind her and the chair was lifted from her hands by two much larger blue ones to place it effortlessly in the location she'd been struggling so much to bring it to. Half of her wondered if the colonel had purposefully not moved the chair prior to her arrival to watch her suffer.

"Um thanks,"

she murmured, blushing darkly as she eventually slumped down in the large chair, making an effort not to brush her legs with her superior.

"So what have you got for me today goldilocks?"

The nickname made her squint in annoyance, she'd almost prefer if he'd just come out and call her a dumb blonde.

"I was going to teach you about the connection between Pandora and the Na'vi people,"

she straightened herself out, watching him raise his eyebrows and smirk, his eyes telling her to go ahead.

She continued with her little speech for a while, as the Colonel eventually leaned his head on his hands, eyes studying her face curiously and allowing their legs to lean together comfortably in the tight space.

After an hour had passed she deemed it long enough and decided to end the lesson.

"Well that was... interesting,"

Colonel Quaritch mused, showing his fangs a little when he spoke.

"Hmm I'm glad you thought so,"

she replied attempting to ignore his sarcasm.

"Well I'd better get going,"

she began to push herself up from the chair but a foot knocked her leg out from under her, causing her to fall back down. She glared at the culprit, only causing his smug smile to widen.

"Not so fast sunshine, I have another proposition for you."

She gulped nervously, why did the question sound so suggestive coming from his mouth?

"u-m and what would that be sir?

"Calm down brainiac I'm not gonna force you to... anyway.."

he coughed, laughing to himself.

"I'm going on a mission to the Na'vi forest in the next three days, I would like you to accompany me and my troupes to help us...connect with 'Eywa'."

He seemed disbelieving of her teachings but nevertheless, she'd never pass up the chance to see Pandora up close.

"Absolutely Sir,"

she rocked forward in your chair in sheer excitement.

"Well then, ain't that outstanding"

He clapped a hand down on her shoulder, the force leaving shockwaves ringing through her body, reminding her of how pathetically weak she was in comparison with both the recombinants and any Na'vi people she might stumble upon during the mission.

"Sir,"

she tested the waters before propositioning her question to him. He raised his eyebrows in confusion, before quickly withdrawing his hand as though he may have offended her.

"I have a question for you."

"Well ask away sunshine I haven't got all day."

He crossed his arms over his chest, causing the muscles in his arms to strain against his taut skin, rippling whenever he shifted slightly.

"Well It's just as a human I'm so weak,"

she paused watching a smirk appear on his lips.

"In return for helping you and your soldiers, I'd like to request my own recombinant body."

"Ahh, I see sunshine, I think that can be arranged for you... since you've been so generous."

He looked down at her mockingly, though soon she hoped they would be on equal footings, more or less. She nodded at him, starting to leave, hoping he wouldn't kick her back into her seat again.

"See you in three days cupcake, don't make me wait."

He called after her and she had the slightest feeling his eyes were burning holes into her back as she sauntered away, feeling quite proud of the arrangement she'd come to.

[theother9tenths]

To say that Gortash’s coronation was an illuminating experience would be an understatement. As you descend the stairs, his words swirl in your mind, one sentence standing out in particular.

“Gods, you are a sight for sore eyes!”

The way he’d said it had surprised you. You’d expected hostility, even disgust. But the look on his face, mischievous and autocratic though it was, had been almost… relieved? If you removed the layers of blind ambition and tyrannical superiority… it was almost as if he was happy to see you.

Of course, upon revealing your lack of memories, his face fell into a mask of indifferent amusement, that of a person who holds all the possible cards. He revealed the whole awful truth of it. This whole mess that you and your friends are in instigated by none other than you yourself. Everything you’ve apparently done. Everything the two of you have apparently done together.

“I tolerated Orin. But I liked you.”

Your skin hasn’t stopped crawling since he said the sentence, coated in a decadent layer of hidden meaning. You agree to the alliance numbly, The Emperor reminding you that you can break it if needed. You can barely pay attention to the sham coronation, despite Wyll’s anxiety for his father’s safety radiating next to you.

The whole thing is too much, but the sinking pit of your thoughts is instantly made worse by Gale’s comment.

“Well. It seems you have a type,” he throws out half-jokingly as the group of you stroll across the bridge out of Wyrm’s Rock toward the Lower City. “I’ll endeavor to be retroactively less hurt at your firm rejection of my past advances.”

Before you can protest, your type in question does it for you.

“Excuse me,” drolls Astarion. “I sincerely hope you’re not implying that that slippery worm and I belong to the same category.”

Wyll’s voice cuts in. “Dark, brooding, power-hungry, and clearly traumatized? Yeah, I can see it.”

“If it’s any consolation, Astarion,” You can hear Gale’s smirk without having to turn and look. “You’re much prettier than he is.”

“Can we just focus on finding an inn?” you blurt out, turning back to the group. “We’re finally in the city and I don’t know about you lot but I’d like to put some of this gold we’ve looted to good use.”

The three of them blink at you for a moment before Wyll concedes. “Right as usual,” he admits. “No use in being rich in coin if we end up sleeping on the docks.”

One figurative (and literal) song and dance later, the group settles into the Elfsong Tavern, and Astarion approaches you. He stands silently as you remove your armored boots for the evening, watching.

“...Yes?”

“I’d like to hear it from you,” he says with a pout.

“What?”

“That I’m prettier than him,” he clarifies, his tone breezy. “I would certainly hope I am considering how I spent two centuries using my beauty to lure in victims for Cazador and Gortash looks like a sewer rat who polymorphed into a man, but I’ve got this awful issue with mirrors, as you know.”

[randomthefox]

I have never seen a SINGLE ISSUE of Archie Sonic that looked even passingly readable as a legitimate book of sequential art on its own merits as a stand alone piece of media. Let alone one that didn't ACTIVELY ENRAGE ME as a fan of the Sonic video games.

I sincerely and honestly do not think that anybody actually and sincerely enjoys this comic book. I think everybody who thinks they enjoy it simply has read so much of it that their brain has been rotted and they don't remember what decent quality writing is anymore. It's like if you cook and eat nothing but sewer rats for long enough, eventually your brain acclimates and starts thinking that it tastes good.

Look at the way people who like Archie Sonic talk about it. They don't talk about it like it's a real piece of art. They don't talk about it the way I talk about the video games for example. Analyzing thematic throughlines. Charting and dissecting character development. Analyzing cinematic intentions and symbolism.

They talk about the fucking comic like it's a daytime soap opera. In a language they don't speak. It's nothing but posting panels from the comic and going

This comic isn't fit to be my fucking toilet paper.

[dragonfairy19]

A Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Wedding

The sewers of New York City were abuzz with excitement. The Ninja Turtles, Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo, were getting married!

The Wedding Day

The wedding was a grand affair, held in a hidden cavern deep beneath the city. The Turtles' friends and allies, including Splinter, April, Karai, and Casey's father, were all in attendance.

* The Ceremony: The ceremony was conducted by a wise old rat named Master Yoshi, who had been a mentor to Splinter. The vows were heartfelt and sincere, and the couple's love for each other was evident.

* The Reception: The reception was a celebration of love and friendship. There was plenty of pizza, cake, and dancing. The Turtles and their brides shared their first dance as a married couple, surrounded by their loved ones.

The Honeymoon

The newlyweds decided to spend their honeymoon on a tropical island. They enjoyed swimming, sunbathing, and exploring the beautiful scenery. It was a much-needed break from the dangers of their lives as ninja turtles.

The wedding of the Ninja Turtles was a momentous occasion, marking a new chapter in their lives. It was a celebration of love, friendship, and the enduring bond between the four brothers.

[sewinrat]

Randal x Unhinged!Human!Reader who just loves how weird and feral he is.

I just think the idea is funny af

Whoever sent this, I love you - this gotta be my favourite request so far. If anyone remembers kindergarten game, that's how technically unhinged you'll act.

"Hey, you wanna try some dirt?" You offered a handful of dirt to some random kid with glasses. You grinned brightly as your face is covered in dirt, mud and grass. The said random kid grinned unnervingly yet cutely and exclaim in happiness, "Yes please!" He snatched the dirt from your hands and eat it quickly, making his glasses titled and face messy.

You laugh in glee and continue to play with the ground, now with a fun company who had introduced himself as Randal. A funny friend indeed. He rants on and on about his fun adventures, especially with his family or whoever this 'Satoru' is. In exchange for listening, he listens to your rants about your messed up school that experiments on children but you managed to blow it up with some game cards. It's a fun silly story telling you both had.

Soon after, you meet his family because Randal didn't came home before curfew so they had to physically pick him up. Literally. The cat with the 'Nevada' on his shirt picked him up by the collar and Randal started to struggle while whining about wanting to play more. Luther promises that you both will meet again, he just cannot go home late at night or else. You piped in saying you can visit his house sometimes, bringing the infamous card game you told him about with you to play. Luckily, Luther allowed you to visit and now you basically feel like you live there instead and visit home with how much sleepovers you both had.

"Wanna try some sand?" You offered to Randal as he stand his doll. He rapidly nods, "Yum! Yes please!" And you spoon fed him while he works on a 'very important' thing he's making.

[lordsovorn]

The sky above you is getting paler, the clouds disappearing in the white static. Between the rustle of leaves and the footsteps of horses, a quiet even hum is slowly growing louder. You can't yet point it out - and later on you'll simply be too used to it to notice.

...

Introduction to a setting I haven't posted about before.

...

More and more houses are dotted along the road. Tents, shanty towns, old taverns with overgrown gardens. Figures shuffle in the shadowy alleys of this limbo, neither out in the wild, nor inside the safety of the City.

Perhaps your village was ravaged by bloodthirsty marauders or merciless creatures of the night. Perhaps a storm came, and left it a twisted cobweb of molten stone and burnt bodies. Perhaps a maneater swamp slowly seeped under the foundations of your home until it was too late for everyone but you. Perhaps you've simply outgrown your tiny muddy bubble beneath the shifting gray sky. Either way, you seek safety, certainty and hope - and there is nowhere to go, ultimately, but to the White City.

Maybe it had a name, but it was forgotten. Maybe it never did, and was built from the ground up by the Company around the first Gates.

Either way, the White City is Civilization. It is the Center of the World - or what's left of it.

Few will get through the borders easily. Maybe you'll trudge through the colossal bureaucracic machine with passion in your eyes, favors and handshakes behind your back, valuables in hand and sheer persistence. Maybe you'll find a crack to slip in. Maybe you'll bribe a guard or pay a trafficker. Maybe you'll dig and crawl through the sewers. There are many ways forward, no road back.

Through the narrow passageways at the bottom, lit by lanterns and trashfires, followed by faceless gazes and stiff gestures. Through the maintenance tunnels with deep shadows and red lights, through the hanging megastructures extending far below, illuminated by cold projectors. You'll be lost in the labyrinth of towers above the streets. A spiderweb of rails, cables and bridges. Layer upon layer upon layer. Void-like black shadows from the intense light above.

Dirt like you isn't welcome on the gleaming cleanliness of its streets. If you want to stay, you'll stick to the alleys, to places where you are unseen. To the shadowy corners teaming with monsters, strangers and rats like you, from the strangest of places. Maybe you'll even find someone who will give a non-citizen work. Or maybe you'll tumble to the very bottom and rob those who are more lost than you, until a bigger fish comes along. Inevitably.

There are many paths through the City, literally and metaphorically. Maybe one day you'll even reach the marvelous floating villas and fortresses, anchored to huge spires. Factories with thousands of chimneys, vast halls of the University around the shimmering Gates, plazas, dotted with towering ceramic sentinels. Balloons and giant kites, black dots along the endlessly white sky.

Or maybe the stark, patient darkness below is the only thing that awaits you.

Strangers in the bars will laugh at you and call you lab meat. That is, if we are being sincere, an entirely possible outcome.

You need the City - there is nothing beyond it. So you'd better find a way to make the City need you.

[mastermatoyas]

Okay! So now that I’ve met all most of the Sun Haven romance candidates, I’m gonna make a post about my thoughts for my friends and followers so I can decide who I’m actually gonna marry in this game.

Long post under the cut!

Lucia is pretty rad! She’s got a lot of confidence, but isn’t arrogant or rude, which I really admire. So far she doesn’t seem that interested in romance, though, so it’s hard to see her as a marriage candidate. She’s still in the running!

Liam and Lynn are both the sweet and shy type, which is nice, but... not that interesting to me as a romance option. So I think I’ve eliminated them from the running.

Anne fucking rules but she is a capitalist, so it’s a no from me.

Catherine is very sweet and also is a hot bunny lady, but I haven’t gotten to know her that well yet. Still in the running!

Nathaniel is adorable. We love a true knight. For some reason I’ve been racking up heart points with him really easily, too. Definitely a contender. Look at that beard.

Jun is the town counselor, and he is overwhelmingly sweet and sincere at all times. I do dig the goth vibe, especially with the earrings. A contender.

Okay I’m still not sure if Claude is meant to actually be a vampire or just looks like one. Either way I’m into it. A contender.

I love Kitty’s design, and the fact that her hobbies include getting stuck in trees and eating raw fish. We stan. However, she ends every sentence with “nya” and I cannot deal with that. Not a contender.

Wornhardt! All I know about him so far is that he’s a doctor. Probably not a contender unless he does something interesting soon.

Darius! Rude asshole prince. He sucks. Definitely a contender.

Donovan. Lives in a sewer which is not ideal, but he is an absolute bro, so he’s a contender on that alone.

Xyla. Hot demon lady who keeps calling me a sewer rat. Definitely a contender.

Iris! I only interacted with her once. Her tattoos are cool. I know nothing else about her. Weirdly femme for someone who lives in the woods. In the “maybe” category.

Vaan! I also have only met him once so far. Also has cool tattoos, also in the maybe category.

Wesley. He is an elf and he is rude. Probably not a contender.

Kai! I found this guy washed up on the beach. He has no memories. Definitely a contender. Just look at him. Hot snake man.

Vivi! I realised partway through making this post that I actually haven’t met this character yet. Oh well! I like her design, so I’ll leave her as a maybe.

Current tally:

Definite contenders: Kai, Xyla, Donovan, Darius, Jun, Claude, Catherine, Nathaniel

Maybe: Vivi, Wesley, Vaan, Iris, Wornhardt, Lucia

No: Kitty, Anne, Liam, Lynn

Stay tuned as I try to narrow this down further!

[out-with-the-boys]

The Dance- Chapter 13

Homelander x Supe OC

Notes: 18+ This chapter contains sexual content. Each chapter will have individual content warnings as they apply to avoid spoilers. Find this work on AO3. Tumblr master post here.

Previous chapter.

Morgan stood outside the heavy doors of Homelander’s penthouse, her pulse steady but her mind still racing with the events of the day. The image of Charlie’s car—crumpled like a soda can—lingered in her thoughts, mingled with the satisfaction of knowing it could have been much worse. She exhaled, her lips twitching into a faint smile. Of all the things Homelander could’ve done to prove a point, he’d picked Charlie’s precious car. 

It was... poetic.

There was a part of her that wondered if she should have been worried he knew which car was Charlie’s in the first place, but it didn’t matter now. It was a clear message that he wasn’t to reach out to her anymore. There were a few upsides to having caught Homelander’s attention in the way she had.

Adjusting her skirt, she let out a soft sigh of relief. Casual clothes were a blessed relief from the armor she’d been stuck in all day. It also made the nature of her visit feel a lot less like she had to keep up appearances. Right then, she didn’t have to pretend to be Psryen. She was just Morgan.

Steeling herself a little, she knocked once, twice, then let herself in. It wasn’t much different from the times he had let himself into her apartment.

Homelander stood by the far window, his back to her, as if he already knew she’d come. It was likely he’d heard her approach either way. His posture was relaxed, but Morgan could sense the tension beneath the surface. The air inside was thick with quiet, save for the soft hum of the city beyond the glass walls.

“I heard the craziest story today,” she started, her voice light, feigning ignorance. “One of the finance managers found his car absolutely totaled down in the parking garage. Nobody knows how it happened, but goddamn… Can you imagine having to file that insurance claim?”

He still didn’t turn to face her, but the tension in his shoulders eased ever so slightly. "Insurance claim?" he echoed, his voice low and smooth. "Does insurance usually cover damage that falls under ‘acts of god?’"

Morgan smirked, stepping further into the room. She could see his reflection in the glass now, the sharp angles of his face softened by the evening light. "An act of god, huh?" she chuckled, drawing closer. "I wouldn’t go that far. Though, I don’t think it falls under ‘acts of a disgruntled coworker’ either."

He finally turned, his eyes locking onto hers, a mix of amusement and something else, something darker, flickering in the blue depths. "Coworker?" he scoffed. "No, definitely not. He’s nowhere close to being in our league."

“You know… Reluctantly, I am forced to agree with you.” she said with a small, wry grin. “Charlie’s in a league of his own, somewhere between roaches and sewer rats.”

Homelander’s smirk deepened, but there was something behind his expression—something careful, and somewhat guarded. "There’s really no lost love between you and him, is there?”

"None whatsoever," she replied, her voice softening as she finally closed the space between them. She tilted her head, studying him in the fading light. "That’s why I can't even be mad about what you did." 

There was a pause, and then she added, more sincerely, "You could have done a lot worse. I know you wanted to."

Homelander’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in her words. "You sound almost relieved."

"I am." Morgan didn’t flinch as she said it, her tone genuine. "And really, destroying his car was a great touch. I’m not sure a simple detailing fee is going to cover that sort of damage.”

Homelander gave her a look that surprised her a little. It was gentle, thoughtful and perhaps even the slightest bit empathetic. “Consider it my personal touch.” He took a step closer, the distance between them shrinking even further. “I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t paying attention.”

Morgan’s smile softened, and her heart stuttered slightly as his presence filled the space around her. She could feel the shift in the air—the playfulness giving way to something deeper, just waiting to be given a voice. The way he looked at her now, there was no trace of the smirk, only the sincerity of his gaze, searching her face as if waiting for her to draw a line or step away.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she exhaled softly, her shoulders relaxing as she let herself lean into the quiet between them. “I noticed,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re always paying attention.” There was no teasing in her tone now, just the faintest trace of gratitude—understanding, even.

He didn’t respond immediately, but the shift in his expression was subtle. The trepidation in his eyes softened, just for a moment, and he reached out, gently brushing his fingers against her arm. It was a small, tentative gesture—an unspoken acknowledgment of the fragile connection they shared.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The city below hummed on in the background, but inside the penthouse, it was quiet—just the two of them, standing close enough to feel each other’s warmth. She looked up at him, her heart thrumming steadily in her chest. The charged air between them only seemed to thicken. They were both waiting, suspended in time—neither of them quite willing to make the first move, yet neither pulling away.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The city below hummed on in the background, but inside the penthouse, it was quiet—just the two of them, standing close enough to feel each other’s warmth. She looked up at him, her heart thrumming steadily in her chest. The charged air between them only seemed to thicken. They were both waiting, suspended in time—neither of them quite willing to make the first move, yet neither pulling away.

“I can tell you’re thinking about it,” she whispered, her voice a little rougher, and a little more daring than usual. There was a spark of recklessness in her tone. Something unrestrained. “Nobody’s stopping you.”

For a second, he froze. A look of surprise flickered across his face, but beneath it, something deeper—hesitation. He had pushed for this, hoped for this, but now that it was happening, fear crept in. The last time he had let someone get close, it ended in betrayal, in hurt. But with Morgan, there was conviction, a sense that she wouldn’t break him the same way. Maybe that frightened him even more.

His hands twitched at his sides. He could feel the pull toward her, a part of him almost desperate for it. But what if this went wrong? What if she let him down too?

Morgan wasn’t waiting, though. She was tired of waiting. Tired of trying to control every second of her life. Control had always been her safety net, her way of coping, but right now, it was the last thing she wanted. Not after the day she’d had. Her emotions had been on a tightrope, and the way Homelander had dealt with Charlie lit something inside her.

And right now, she wanted to act on it.

“Unless you’re afraid,” she added, her voice challenging now, teasing, pushing him closer to the edge.

That did it. Slowly, his expression shifted. A touch of fear still lingered, but it was quickly snuffed out by something else. A need. A need for someone to stay, to not turn away from him when he was vulnerable. She wasn’t running, wasn’t recoiling, and that… that was new.

“I’m not afraid,” he said, his voice low, daring her to prove him wrong.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Her words were bold, reckless, and it only fed the wildfire of emotions building between them. She wasn’t thinking, wasn’t overanalyzing, and that excited her. For once, she was letting herself be there, in that moment, without weighing every consequence.

With a quick, sharp breath, he closed the distance between them, his lips finding hers in a kiss that started tentative but quickly grew bolder. He was testing how much of himself he could give before she pulled away. But she didn’t pull away.

Instead, she leaned in harder, her arms sliding up and around his neck to pull him closer. She wasn’t interested in half-measures. There was no hesitation in her touch, no holding back. She wanted to feel this, needed to, after everything. And she knew he needed it too.

His hands, which had hovered with uncertainty, finally settled on her waist, gripping her as if to ground himself. At least, that’s where they stayed for a brief moment. A soft moan rose from the depths of her chest, and was effectively smothered against his lips, prompting a similar sound from him in return.

Wandering over her hip and downward, one of his hands strayed to the hem of her skirt to hike it just a little higher. There was a slight moment of hesitation from him, but their kiss didn’t break for even a second. The way Morgan leaned into him with such ferocity was encouragement enough.

Homelander’s fingertips brushed against her innermost thigh, and she inhaled sharply, anticipation coursing through her like liquid fire. His touch was surprisingly delicate as he teased her over the thin fabric of her underwear. An aching desire built stronger and stronger, pulling taut in her abdomen. It only got worse as his fingers pulled away.

For just a moment, they broke apart, both of them breathless. He searched her face, looking for signs that maybe this wasn’t real. Part of him wondered if maybe she was about to pull away and tell him it was a mistake. But her eyes stayed on his, her chest rising and falling in time with his.

“I’m not running,” she said, her voice soft and resolute.

His thumb traced the edge of her bottom lip, kiss-bruised and full. The significance of what was about to transpire had just begun to settle in. “Good,” he murmured, the word carrying the kind of relief he hadn’t felt in years. Maybe ever.

They both dove in for another kiss, and this one was more frantic and full of need than the last. It was impossible for either one of them to settle in one spot for long as they both pawed impetuously and the other’s clothes. The more difficulty Morgan had figuring out how to get his suit off, the more she was glad that she had dressed down for the occasion.

Somewhere along the way, they had stumbled into his bedroom, both of them halfway undressed in some manner. There was a brief moment she found herself gawking up at the massive mirror on his ceiling, but her shock (and slight amusement) was cut short. The very moment she was laid out on the edge of his bed, all of her on display for him to see, he buried himself inside her in a single, smooth stroke. 

“Oh god…” she choked out, her voice a barely restrained whisper.

His only response was a slight smirk as he drew back, just enough to leave her wanting for a split second, then he pushed in again. He moved slowly– at first. Every soft breath, every little mewl he wrested from her drove him to rock into her just a little faster. Before long, she was clutching at his cape, keening desperately as his hips rutted and bucked against hers in a quick and steady rhythm.

Morgan was finally able to lose herself in the throes of it all. Her body moved instinctually with his, following his lead at some points, and at other points she was the one steering him toward the edge of ecstasy. Somewhere along the line, she had lost track of all sense of who she was, who he was, and everything that had brought them over the precipice.

That evening, nothing really mattered outside of that room. 

The soft rustle of the sheets and the faint rhythm of their breathing filled the space after some time. Their earlier exertions dissolved into a quiet intimacy. Morgan lay comfortably against his chest, her body relaxed, yet her mind still processing everything that had led them there. Her fingers traced absent patterns against his skin as she turned her head slightly to glance at him.

“So,” she began, her tone softer, more thoughtful, “I have to admit, I didn’t exactly picture my day ending like this.”

Homelander’s gaze shifted toward her, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You didn’t?” he asked, though there was a trace of amusement in his voice. “Not even a little?”

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “No, I didn’t. But I’m not complaining.”

The silence between them was comfortable now, and she felt a strange, unexpected ease settle over her. She wasn’t entirely sure what things between them were—whether they were fleeting or something more—but for that moment, they were enough.

The quiet between them lingered a while longer, but eventually, there was a shift—one that Morgan could feel even before Homelander spoke. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he started, his tone soft but probing. “About you... and Charlie.”

Morgan’s brow furrowed slightly, but she didn’t interrupt. She knew this conversation was bound to surface eventually, though she wasn’t sure she was ready for where it might lead.

He turned his head toward her, his gaze unwavering. “You almost had a family with him.”

The statement hung between them, weightier than the silence that followed. Morgan’s breath caught for a second, but she met his gaze, the vulnerability in it taking her aback slightly.

“Yeah,” she admitted quietly. “We did. That was such a long time ago though.”

For a moment, Homelander said nothing, but there was an intensity in the way he looked at her, as if trying to piece together parts of a puzzle. Some part of Morgan was afraid to let her mind linger in his for much longer. There were certain avenues he contemplated exploring, and some of them she wasn’t sure she wanted to go down. At the same time, she wanted to have answers at the ready.

“I seem to remember you saying you really wanted the baby you lost.” he said, his tone uncertain as he began to tread into uncharted waters. “What stopped you from trying again? I mean, obviously Charlie was a tool and starting a family with him was an awful idea, but… In all that time, you never wanted to try with anyone else?”

Morgan’s gaze flickered, her fingers curling slightly against his chest. She really didn’t want him to go there—not like this, not now. But there it was, laid bare between them. She swallowed, her throat suddenly tight as she searched for the right words.

“It wasn’t that simple,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Losing the baby... it broke something in me. Something I didn’t know how to fix. After that, I wasn’t sure I could put myself through it again.” Her eyes dropped, focusing on the pattern of the covers instead of his piercing gaze. 

She hesitated, feeling his gaze still fixed on her before continuing, “Trying again—it never felt like an option. Not with anyone.”

Homelander stayed quiet for a moment. She could sense his curiosity deepening, though, pushing him to understand her in a way no one else had. His voice was softer when he finally spoke. “And now?”

The question hit her harder than she anticipated. Something about hearing that curiosity voiced out loud hit her like a punch to the gut. Morgan glanced up at him, meeting his gaze again.

“It’s not in the cards for me.” she said, her voice a little more pointed than she intended it to be. “I’m well into my thirties, I’ve got one hell of a career I’ve just settled into and…”

There was no room for something as pure as that in her current situation. 

Especially not with him. 

“I’m not sure I was meant to anyway,” she continued. “I thought I was safe at sixteen weeks. Running the risk of not carrying to term again is higher for me now, and I don’t think I could go through that again.”

His expression was thoughtful, and a flicker of disappointment flashed through his mind. That wasn’t the only thing, however. There was the briefest thought of a boy that crossed his mind, but it wasn’t the one she had seen before. The boy in his memories she was used to seeing was him, but this one… He had a son.

It was immediately apparent that he didn’t want her to know about him. Not quite yet anyway. So, she stifled any sort of reaction she might have had and filed that bit of information away for later. 

“Sorry, these probably aren’t the sort of questions you want to be answering right now.” he muttered, shifting slightly beneath her. 

“Hey, it’s okay, really.” she reassured him gently, sitting up slightly to meet his gaze without having to crane her neck. “You’d be surprised how quickly this sort of thing jumps into most people’s minds. It’s one of those weird, instinctual things that I think is instilled into most of us.”

Homelander's lips twitched, almost as if he were about to say something more, but he held back. His eyes lingered on her, a quiet understanding passing between them, before he finally let out a soft chuckle. “This is nice,” he admitted, shifting slightly, though his gaze never left hers. “Talking like this.”

She smiled softly, sensing a shift from the conversation to something lighter. “Yeah, it’s nice not to be at each other’s throats all the time.” she teased gently, reaching up to brush a lock of hair away from his forehead.

His eyes glinted with something familiar—a spark of amusement, perhaps even relief—and he tilted his head, his usual confidence creeping back into his posture. “I don’t know, you seemed to like having my teeth at your throat earlier.” he quipped, his voice low and playful. 

For a moment, the intensity between them eased, the earlier tension dissolving into something more comfortable. Morgan felt the corners of her lips tug upwards as the warmth of the quiet moment settled over them.

“Hey, you just count your lucky stars that my armor covers my neck.” she scolded playfully. “Otherwise we’d have to explain this whole thing to HR, I’m sure.”

That was enough to get a soft laugh out of him. The silence that followed wasn’t heavy or awkward—just quiet, the kind that spoke of understanding and unspoken agreements. Morgan let herself relax into it. Not even the unspoken question at the tip of his tongue concerned her. She already knew how she wanted to answer.

“I’d like to stay.” she murmured softly, laying back down against his chest again. “People are definitely going to talk tomorrow, but right now, I really couldn’t give a damn if I tried.”

Homelander’s arm instinctively wrapped around her, the steady rhythm of his breathing filled the quiet space between them. For the time being, neither of them had to worry about appearances, expectations, or the outside world pressing in.

“Let ‘em talk,” he murmured, his voice low and content. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck either.”

Morgan smiled against his chest, feeling the all the strain of the day slowly slipping away. For now, she could just exist in the stillness, without the pressure of their respective roles hanging over them. They were just two people, caught in a moment of peace before the world outside inevitably pulled them back in.

Tomorrow would come soon enough—but that night, it was just them.

Song: Samson by Regina Spektor “You are my sweetest downfall, I loved you first.” Author’s notes: Lucky number 13! They finally did the deeeeeeed! I really don’t have too much to say about this chapter, other than I was kicking my feet and giggling the whole time I was writing it. It’s a touch short, but I didn’t want the whole focus of the chapter to be on the act itself. I mostly wanted to capture the mood and everything surrounding it.  It’s such a pivotal point for them, and I could imagine it all being such a blur of so many emotions, sensations and just a hell of a thing for either of them to fully conceptualize.  Don’t worry, there will be more moments like this, but I hope you liked this chapter. Let me know what you thought!

Next Chapter.

[formoflamp]

Hand in Hand

One of the many things the Dark Urge had noticed about Gortash over the course of their unexpected consociation was that the man smiled a lot. He held the same expression when the Dark Urge discussed rat torture or reverse hanging that he used when exchanging paltry pleasantries with the city’s patriars. It was a genial sort of smile with hollow sentiment behind the eyes. Then there was the smile that appeared when Gortash was masking his displeasure. The one where his lips curved uncomfortably upward. The Dark Urge enjoyed that one; it sometimes led to someone ending up dead. But his favorite of Gortash's smiles happened when the man seemed to feel sincerely happy. Gortash's eyes would light up in a way that led the Dark Urge to feel as if his intestines were strangling themselves.

Gortash’s recent letter had taken great care to stress the importance of today’s meeting, so the Dark Urge showed up in a timely manner. Perhaps, in too timely of a manner. It was early enough that the city was still bathed in sunlight. The Dark Urge had only had enough time after he had awoken to partake in prayer and terrorize the sewer rats; fresh murder was to be done under the cover of darkness.

His knife-hand itched to indulge in butchery.

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