#so he REALLY enjoys them. but that aside!!!

[bywons]

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𖥔 PSH

𝖠𝖢𝖳𝗢𝗡𝗘────𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗍

【 𝒪𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀 】 𝓁 ’───𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 𝟏𝟒𝟏𝟑𝗐 ｡ 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋 ❛ 愛 ❜ 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇—𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋

스루 ܃ make sure to read until the end, & share your thoughts with me ! i hope ya'll will enjoy this :3

reb𝑙ogs ◇ 𝑓eedbacks 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾

park sunghoon disappeared from plain sight three years ago.

the boy you once loved so much, you would give him your heart and he was ready to give his. through shared kisses and intoxicating touches that sent a bolt of thunder through your bodies, you grew to love him even more.

and now you ache for him, your heart could never belong to anyone but park sunghoon. for the past three years, you have seen plenty of faces— even some so striking that you would consider dating them, if your heart hadn't belonged to sunghoon. you searched among the crowd of faces with an expecting heart to see his face popping up, but you had failed to see him anywhere.

so naturally, when one day your phone buzzes up at an unusual hour from an unknown number, claiming to be park sunghoon, you thought it was an awful prank. at first, you thought your eyes were deceiving you, a cruel trick of exhaustion or longing.

until something convinced you.

i don’t have much to explain, rose. i just want to see you.

he always called you by rose, your favourite flower.

i miss you, don’t know if you miss me.

god, you miss him more than anything.

you don’t want to invite him over, to let him see your vulnerable side. but you’re already so broken without him, and you take it as a sign from above— park sunghoon will finally be yours again.

the doorbell buzzes louder, and you realise you fell asleep on the couch while waiting for him, the news acting as a serenade in the background.

you hesitate. every rational part of your brain screams at you to leave it alone—to call someone, to ignore it, to do anything but walk towards the door. and yet, your feet move of their own accord, drawn forward by a force far stronger than fear.

the moment you unlock the door, a gust of cool night air rushes in, and there he stands.

park sunghoon.

exactly as you remember him. and yet—different.

he doesn’t say anything off the bat, and just stands there, staring at you with an emotion you can’t really figure out. your throat runs dry, before you step aside to let him in.

“—the city remains silent after the dreadful incident along the alley of the infamous club. the victims’ body is yet to be handed over to autopsy, but witnesses state, quote, it’s unbearable to stand such a sight—”

he sits down quietly before you on the couch. sunghoon watches you, the dim glow from the tv casting shadows across his face. his fingers tap idly against his knee, a familiar habit.

“so, you won’t ask me how i’ve been?” he finally says something, his dark locks of hair falling over his face just like old times. he looks exactly the same.

“should i?” you dig your nails into your palms, “would you even answer?”

his lips twitch, but he doesn’t deny it. Instead, he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as his gaze locks onto yours. “i missed you.”

“you left without nothing,” you finally push out the words you’ve been wanting to say, “d-did you ever think about me?” your voice cracks.

sunghoon visibly gulps, a shadow of guilt taking over his features. he pushes himself closer to you, “you’re all that i think about, rose. you’re my love, i love you—”

“oh, save it,” you spit, your eyes welling up with frustrated tears. you just couldn’t take the man's crap talk after three whole years, “you don’t care about me, you never did! sunghoon you just disappeared and decided to come back after so long without a word—”

“i know, i can—”

“where were you, sunghoon?” your voice shakes. “i—i thought you were dead.”

his eyes flicker with something unreadable. “i can’t explain it. not yet.”

“not yet?” you let out a hollow laugh. “three years, and you can’t even give me a reason?”

he inches closer, closing the space between you. his fingers brush your cheek—chilling, familiar, and devastating. “i didn’t want to leave you,” he murmurs. “i had no choice.”

faces close, you search for something in his eyes,

your breath is unsteady, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you like a force you can’t fight. his words should anger you. they should send you into a fit of rage, make you shove him away, make you scream at him for leaving you in the dark all this time.

but his touch, his voice, his mere presence is enough to crumble all the walls you built over the past three years.

“you had no choice?” you repeat, your voice dripping with disbelief. “then tell me, sunghoon. what was so important that you had to disappear without a trace? that you had to make me think i lost you forever?”

he exhales sharply, jaw clenching. his fingers ghost down your arm, almost as if testing if you’ll flinch away. you don’t.

“rose, i—” he hesitates, his eyes flickering with something you can’t quite place. “i want to tell you. but not yet.”

not yet. again.

you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “you always do this. keep me in the dark. make me feel like a fool for loving you.” your voice cracks at the last part.

his eyes darken. “you were never a fool for loving me.”

there’s just silence between the two of you again, the slow squeaking of the ceiling fan and the buzz from the news playing on the tv trying to fill it in.

“—hold on, i’m getting a call, hope this is an important source. heeseung you better not stop recording, we’re going to make big news—”

“then-” you hiccup, his cold touch along your forearm making you lose your eyes, “then prove it?”

“anything for you,” sunghoon whispers before he pushes his lips on yours, making your back crash into the couch. his featherlight touches on your skin, and you hiccup yet again. sunghoon clearly giggles into the kiss, his hands brushing off the hair from your face as his lips stay on yours.

the kiss is slow at first, almost hesitant before it turns into a need. you let him push your back completely against the couch, be on top of you. his fingers tangle in your hair, his touch igniting something primal in you. when his lips part from yours, he trails kisses down your jaw, your throat, sending shivers through your body.

“rose, i missed you,” he murmurs against your skin. “you’re mine, aren’t you?”

you giggle at his words, head turning towards the low humming tv as sunghoon continues loving you.

“—now reporting live from the crime scene, yet another body with similar m.o has been discov—”

you try not to pay much attention to the news, and focus on your lover, who’s busy pressing kisses on your face. he murmurs sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you of old times.

his breath is warm against your skin, his lips parting as he hovers over the pulse point at your neck. your heartbeat pounds beneath his touch, and for a brief moment, you think he hesitates.

then— a sharp gasp leaves your lips as his teeth barely graze your skin.

something about it feels wrong.

too sharp. too precise.

a sudden flash from the television catches your attention.

“—newfound horror. the victims were found with two puncture wounds on their neck… eerily similar to cases seen in vampire folklore—”

your blood runs cold as realisation settles in, you slowly push sunghoon back by his muscular shoulders, just right enough to glimpse at his eyes.

he refuses to look directly at you, maybe because he already predicted your reaction to this, or maybe he is looking at you— you simply cannot register anything as your blood runs cold.

sunghoons eyes glow red in the dark, white and sharp fangs baring out. his neck and face looks paler than ever, as if he's painted white.

you just lay there, shaken in fear, unable to do anything on your own but whimper his name. he coos at you, leaning down towards your neck.

“don’t worry, y/n,” he whispers, kissing the crook of your neck once more, “i love you, you won’t end up like them.”

the channel roars.

“—the polices’ advice is to stay indoors as often as possible, and immediately file a report if you come across suspicious activities—”

© BYWONS, 2025 / do not copy or repost without permission

taglist────open nets @/k-labels @k-films @kflixnet CLICK ME

[kakuvibez]

hello!! I don't know if you take poly requests but could you do Shadow milk cookie x Sua!reader (alien stage) x Pure vanilla hcs? like they're reaction to having an s/o with a really good and soft voice just like how Sua has and could you base readers appearance with Sua except reader has a long hair but still has Sua's features, personality etc. hcs and scenario/s will do! but if you don't do poly rqs then feel free to just separate them! but will really like it more if you do poly but no worries it's up to you!!

yandere one shot/quotes/ hcs; CRK

Since you're my first request for a cookie run kingdom story(?) I want to give you extra (≡^∇^≡)‼️

requested by ; anonymous/ @user / none,,

fandom(s) ; ALNST, CRK

fandom master list(s): master | specific

character(s); Shadow Milk Cookie, Pure Vanilla Cookie Sua!Reader,

outline; "Can you sing...?"

warning(s) ; yandere themes for extra,,

You have a voice as soft and enchanting as Sua's, with an almost otherworldly tone that makes people stop and listen.

Your appearance mirrors Sua's, but with long, flowing hair that shimmers under the light.

Personality-wise, you're graceful yet mischievous, sometimes teasing but always carrying an air of elegance.

Shadow Milk Cookie

The first time Shadow Milk Cookie heard your voice, he froze. His usual sharp demeanor wavered, his grip tightening around his weapon.

He tells himself it's just a voice, but the way it lingers in his mind? Unacceptable.

"Tch. What kind of spell is this...?"

He acts unaffected, but if anyone else comments on your voice, he glares at them like they dared to touch something precious.

When you sing or hum absentmindedly, he pretends not to listen... but he always is. He sharpens his weapons slower, his mouth flicking in quiet satisfaction.

If anyone insults your voice? Expect immediate violence. "Say that again, and you won't have a voice to speak with."

- Initially, he doesn't react much to your voice. He's so used to harsh, bitter sounds-clashing swords, the echoes of solitude, the weight of his past.

- But then he hears you truly sing. Maybe it's late at night when he can't sleep, and you hum a tune absentmindedly. The moment the melody reaches him, his entire body stills.

- He tries to act indifferent, but is heart clenches. Why does your voice make him feel like this?

- He doesn't admit how much he craves your singing. Instead, he finds excuses to linger near you whenever you hum or speak softly.

- He secretly loves it when you sing just for him, even if he acts annoyed about it. If you stop? He'll grumble something like, "Who told you to stop?"

-barely above a whisper.

- If someone else hears you and compliments your voice? Oh. He does not like that. He'll pull you aside and mutter, "Why do you waste your voice on them?"

- He may not say it outright, but your voice is one of the only things that soothes his restless soul.

Pure Vanilla Cookie

- Pure Vanilla is absolutely mesmerized from the very first time he hears you. Your voice is a gift, a melody that carries warmth and kindness in every note.

- Every time you speak or sing, his eyes light up. He listens with a gentle, almost reverent expression, as if he's hearing something divine.

- "You have the voice of an angel," he murmurs, smiling softly. "Every word you say feels like a blessing."

- He often asks you to sing when he's healing others. He believes your voice alone has the power to mend weary souls, and he's right-your presence alone makes the injured feel at ease.

- He's not the jealous type, but he does feel a little sad when others demand your attention. He cherishes those quiet moments when it's just the two of you, your voice wrapping around him like a warm embrace.

- Pure Vanilla enjoys brushing your long hair as you sing. He finds it soothing, almost like a ritual of love and comfort.

- If he ever sees you upset, he'll softly encourage you to sing for yourself. "Even if no one else is listening, let your voice be a comfort to you as well."

Pure Vanilla Cookie is completely enchanted by your voice. He listens with a dreamy expression, like he's basking in sunlight.

"Your voice is... unlike anything I've ever heard. It soothes even the deepest wounds."

He encourages you to sing or speak freely, even if you're shy about it. He truly believes your voice holds healing properties.

If you ever feel insecure, he'll cup your cheeks gently and remind you: "Even the wind envies the softness of your words."

Loves when you hum while tending to flowers or helping others-it makes everything feel more magical.

He will absolutely ask for lullabies if he's stressed. His trust in you is absolute, and your voice is his greatest comfort.

Shadow Milk pretends to be indifferent, while Pure Vanilla is openly mesmerized. The contrast is amusing.

Shadow Milk is the type to grumble if Pure Vanilla requests a song: "What, you need to be sung to sleep like a child?" But then he stays to listen.

You often tease Shadow Milk about how he always "accidentally" shows up when you're singing. He denies it.

Pure Vanilla thinks your voice could bring peace, while Shadow Milk sees it as a weapon that could distract even the strongest of foes.

They both love you in their own way, but one thing is certain-your voice belongs only to them.

The quiet hum of your melody drifted through the air, carried by the soft night breeze. Sitting beneath a large tree, you let the notes flow effortlessly, your long hair swaying gently.

Pure Vanilla Cookie sat beside you, eyes closed, a peaceful smile gracing his lips. "It feels like a dream..." he murmured. "I could listen to you forever."

A short distance away, Shadow Milk Cookie leaned against the tree with crossed arms, his tail flicking. "Hmph. It's just a song." But the way his ears twitched betrayed his real feelings.

You smirked. "You say that, and yet you're still here."

He clicked his tongue, turning away. "Coincidence."

Pure Vanilla chuckled, his golden eyes twinkling. "Shadow Milk, you don't have to pretend. I see the way you relax when they sing."

Caught off guard, Shadow Milk scoffed but didn't leave. Instead, he muttered, "If you're gonna sing, at least don't stop halfway."

You laughed softly, continuing your song, while both of them-whether they admitted it or not-were completely captivated by you.

They may be different, but one thing is certain: your voice belongs only to them.

Extra!! ; Yandere Headcanons

Yandere! Shadow Milk Cookie

Obsessed. He hates how much he craves your voice, yet it's the only thing that soothes his ever-present rage.

He's always watching-lurking in the shadows, waiting for an excuse to eliminate anyone who gets too close to you.

"You sing too much for others. Do they really deserve to hear you?" His voice is low, almost threatening.

Doesn't like you speaking to others at all. If he catches you singing for someone else, he will glare daggers and find a way to get rid of them.

If anyone insults your voice, expect a body count. He doesn't hesitate.

He sometimes steals things that carry your scent-small ribbons, hair strands caught in your brush-just to keep a part of you when he's alone.

Yandere! Pure Vanilla Cookie

Unlike Shadow Milk, Pure Vanilla acts like the perfect lover. He praises you, smiles at you with warmth... but beneath that, there's something unsettling.

"Your voice is a gift to the world, but... perhaps it's best if only I hear it." His tone is gentle, yet firm.

Wants you to sing only for him. If others hear you, he feels betrayed-not that he'd ever punish you outright. No, he'll make you feel guilty instead.

"Do you not love me? Is that why you let others hear your voice?"

If you try to run, he'll act hurt, making you feel like the villain. "I only want to protect you, my dear... why must you try to leave me?"

He will never let you go. If necessary, he'll use magic to erase memories of anyone who's ever heard your voice before.

They hate each other. Shadow Milk is convinced Pure Vanilla is manipulating you, while Pure Vanilla sees Shadow Milk as dangerous.

You? Caught between them. They both believe they're the only one who truly deserves you.

Shadow Milk would rather keep you locked away in darkness, safe from anyone else. Pure Vanilla would keep you in a golden cage, disguised as kindness.

They both find any excuse to keep you away from others. "Stay with me a little longer," Pure Vanilla will plead, while Shadow Milk will forcefully drag you away.

If you try to escape? Pure Vanilla will gaslight you into staying, while Shadow Milk will break anyone who dares help you.

The night was unusually quiet, save for the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. Pure Vanilla Cookie sat near a small campfire, his staff resting against his shoulder, while Shadow Milk Cookie leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed, eyes shadowed with exhaustion.

You sat between them, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you absentmindedly hummed a tune-soft, dreamlike, carrying a melody neither of them could ignore.

Pure Vanilla's breath hitched, his eyes shimmering with admiration. "That song... it's beautiful."

Shadow Milk Cookie didn't say anything, but his grip on his weapon tightened ever so slightly. The usual tension in his posture seemed to ease.

"You should sing more often," Pure Vanilla encouraged gently, brushing a strand of your long hair behind your ear. "Your voice is... comforting."

"Tch." Shadow Milk Cookie scoffed, turning his gaze away.

Shadow Milk Cookie was hidden among the shadows, his tail flicking in irritation. Too many people had heard you today. He would need to take care of that.

Pure Vanilla Cookie, standing just behind you, smiled. "Your voice is... beautiful as always, my dear."

You turned to him with a soft smile. "Thank you, Vanilla."

Before you could continue, a cold hand grasped your wrist. Shadow Milk Cookie's grip was firm-almost too firm. "Enough," he growled. "You sing too much for others."

Pure Vanilla placed a hand over Shadow Milk's, his expression unreadable. "You shouldn't be so rough with them. You wouldn't want to hurt our precious songbird, would you?"

"Don't act like you're better than me," Shadow Milk spat. "You're just as bad."

You swallowed, heart pounding. There was no escaping them. No matter how sweet their words or how cruel their actions, they would never let you go.

And worst of all? A part of you was starting to wonder if you wanted to leave.

Because when they looked at you like that-like you were the only thing in their world-how could you say no?

No matter where you go, no matter how far you run-your voice, your very existence, belongs to them.

[elixirfromthestars]

Can I start this off by saying that as a girlie who appreciates a good playlist, I am fully enjoying reading this while listening to the accompanying playlist you created? 😌💖 And after how the prologue started us off I am seated and ready to read what happens next! 👀

More under the cut ᯓᡣ𐭩

Firstly, Liz 🥺 you have me scared now after this:

I'm going to have to prepare my tissues, my heart, my mind, and my soul for this one aren't I? 😅🥺 Well I'm ready as I'll ever be then!!

I don't know if you've answered this before, but I was curious to know what year you set/imagined this au in? 👀 I would love to get an idea of the era for the fashion and environment 🫶🏼

A grin of your own broke out, and the carriage had barely stopped before you threw the door open and practically flung yourself out and into the arms of the man before you. "Benji!" You exclaimed with a laugh, hugging your brother tightly. He reciprocated with a chuckle, resting his cheek on top of your head. "It's good to see you too, Scout."

^ Am I going to like Benji? Because something tells me I’m going to adore Scout’s brother 🥺 I think it was really nice of him to go off and move out west first to prepare everything, so things could be set up by the time Scout arrived! 🫶🏼

“Yes! Oh, Scout. You’re going to love it! It’s a grand, old thing. The furniture has already been placed, but of course you’re more than welcome to rearrange. I’ve even set aside a small plot by the side of the house for you to garden.”

^ He set up a little plot for her to garden?? 🥺❤️❤️ I officially have a soft spot for him 100% 🥺

And Natasha ending up as Benji's secretary...interesting 👀 I wonder what role she'll play in the plot 🤔✨ I hope her and Scout become friends, so Scout can have someone to talk to while she adjusts to this new life. 💖

“The Daggers are nothing to be concerned about,” he started, stopping when you shot him a skeptical look. Sighing, he continued, “They don’t usually cause trouble for those in town. Maverick has a sort of…truce with them.”

^ A truce? 👀 Sounds to me like Maverick has to keep all his children in check 😂

“I really am glad you’re here, Scout,” he said softly. Turning to meet your brother’s gaze, you saw the familiar fondness in them that you had missed the past six months. Benjamin was eight years your senior, and had declared himself as your protector from the second you were born. He had been one of the many constants in your life, and now he seemed to be the only one left.

^ 🥺🥺🥺 that's all just 🥺🥺🥺

“Without an escort?” You spluttered, eyes widening in shock. Benjamin let out a hearty laugh, his head falling back as his shoulders shook. “Welcome to the west, baby sister.”

^ Something tells me this won't be the first 'cultural shock' Scout experiences 😂 Although, after mentions of the outlaws, rowdy folk, and men stumbling out of taverns...I think I too would be a little shocked of not having an escort. 😳

And my first impression of the small town of Maverick is that its a nice little town with possibilities of trouble around the corner 👀

“Perhaps you’ll be my friend,” you mused. The horse lets out a snort and you laugh out a breath, smiling softly. Your father had loved horses, and he had made sure to pass on that love to his children. Many happy memories were made riding along the countryside of your family’s country home.

^ I don't know who this horse is, but I love him. 🥹 I hope Scout befriends him and gets to bring him treats later ❤️ Because it sounds to me like he deserves all the treats!!

“Well, darlin’. There must be something special about you, huh?” Came a male voice from behind you. You whipped around just as a sturdy body leans against the post. He was unbelievably handsome. Gold hair complimented golden skin, and green eyes held twinkles of mirth and mischief with a smirk to match.

^ 🤭🤭 Is this who I think it is?? 🤭🤭 I swear I can hear the accent clear as day when he says darlin' 💗💗

“Whiskey here doesn’t warm up to just anyone,” he grinned, resting a hand next to yours. “In fact, he doesn’t like much of anyone accept me.”

^ It's official. Whiskey the horse, a good judge of character, and the matchmaker. I love him. 🐴💘

“Figured,” he chuckled. “I would have remembered seeing someone as pretty as you walkin’ around.”

^ Keep talking, I'm listening 🥰❤️

“So, sugar,” he started, “how much for your debut?”

^ Never mind, please stop talking because—WHAT 😦

Chuckling, he continued. “How much is it going to cost me to have you in my bed for the hour?”

^ EXCUSE ME DO I LOOK LIKE A HARLOT TO YOU?! Actually, don't answer that because apparently I do 💀

“C’mon, honey. It’ll be worth your while,” he smirked, running his eyes up and down your form. “Promise it’ll be good for you too. Hell, I’ll even pay for the night.”

^ *clutches pearls tightly* Jake, please stop I'm begging you, you're making it worse for yourself. 😭💀

“I’m not a whore!” You shouted, drawing looks from passersby. The man held up his hands in surrender. In any other situation it would have been almost comical how frightened he seemed of you considering how he towered over you. “My sincerest apologies, miss,” he offered, trying to hold back a grin.

^ In all seriousness, this is actually such a funny and fitting way for these two to meet and the fact that he's being a little shit and trying not to smile, its such a Jake thing to do. 😂🩷What a set up for them, I love it!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

“Nonsense,” Jake chirped, “what kind of gentleman would I be if I allowed a beautiful young lady to walk around unescorted through town?” You gave him a dubious look which only caused the smirk on his face to grow into a full blown grin.

^ Sir, you just said we looked like a whore I mean, I don't know if an escort through town is how you make it up to someone after that buddy. 😂💀

“You come here to join your fiancé?” He asked, tone even and face still unreadable. Surely he wasn’t... “Are you jealous, Mr. Seresin?” Jake looked at you then, jaw set and green eyes ablaze. “Answer the question, darlin’.” You shook your head. “No. I’m not even engaged. Benjamin is my brother.” He seemed to relax at that.

^ Jealous already, Jake? 🤭💖 I’m still a little weary after that little misunderstanding 🤨 but I’ll let it slide for now 😌

“Because I don’t believe our paths will cross again, Jake,” you said, lips curling in a small smile.

^ Oh, I have a feeling they will. 🤭🩷 Many times. I have a feeling Jake would carve out his own path just to cross it with Scout's if need be. 🙂‍↕️💗

“How can we be of service, Hangman?” he asked tensely, and you looked up at him with a puzzled expression. Hangman? But that was the name of… Your head whipped back around to look at Jake who just grinned at your brother before shooting you a wink. “Just escorting your sister back to your door, Benjamin. Wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea, would we?” He grinned, not taking his eyes off of you. Benjamin stiffened beside you.

^ Benjamin and Jake have crossed paths already?? 👀 I wonder how that went 🫢 because it seems Benjamin is very cautious of Jake.

Oh my, oh my, oh my, what a beginning this was!! Arriving to Maverick, getting a bit more of a feel for Scout and Benji’s sibling dynamic, meeting Whiskey, meeting Jake, and then that tense interaction between Jake and Benji in the end 🫢💕 Maybe I should be weary of outlaw Jake, but I fear he might’ve captured my attention already!! 🫶🏼 Deep down I want to trust Whiskey’s judgement that Jake’s a good guy, but I guess I’ll have to keep reading to see!! 👀💖

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter One

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter One

Pairing: Jake "Hangman Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger Gang of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Language, reader being a tad bougie, flirty Jake, ogling men, use of y/n...I think that's it for this one?

Word Count: 2.95k

A/N: Here it is! Chapter One! I hope you all enjoy reading this! As always, likes and reblogs are very much welcome as I crave validation. And again, this blog is 18+!! You are responsible for your own reading! You can also find this story on AO3 written under arcane_vagabond!

Series Masterlist || DGU Masterlist

People bustled about the small town as your carriage passed by. Children ran ahead of their parents, men stumbled out of what could only be the local tavern, and women dressed entirely too scantily waved at anyone who passed by.

Frowning, you sat back in your seat, once again contemplating how you ended up in this situation. Peering out the window, you looked up to see a tall, wooden building painted in a fresh coat of white paint. Blue shutters hugged the windows along the walls, and a wooden sign with your family’s name hung just past the set of stairs. Most importantly, a tall man stood at the base of the steps, grinning from ear to ear.

A grin of your own broke out, and the carriage had barely stopped before you threw the door open and practically flung yourself out and into the arms of the man before you.

“Benji!” You exclaimed with a laugh, hugging your brother tightly. He reciprocated with a chuckle, resting his cheek on top of your head.

“It’s good to see you too, Scout.”

It had been months since you had seen your brother. Benjamin had insisted on moving out west before you in order to get things settled, and you were to stay home and oversee that your family’s heirlooms were shipped safely to your new home. That had been six months ago, and now here he stood before you, still clean shaven, but he had definitely developed a darker complexion during his time in the town of Maverick. Pursing your lips, you look up at him.

“Benjamin, how much time have you spent in the sun these past months?” You scolded. He had the decency to appear ashamed as he ducked his head down, offering you a sheepish smile.

“Longer than you would approve of, I’m sure y/n. But, the house needed seeing to and land was not going to till itself,” he smirked, taking your arm in his and walking up the steps of the building.

“The house?” You inquired with a raise of your eyebrow. Benjamin nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes! Oh, Scout. You’re going to love it! It’s a grand, old thing. The furniture has already been placed, but of course you’re more than welcome to rearrange. I’ve even set aside a small plot by the side of the house for you to garden.”

“You have?” You asked as you walked into the building. A parlor of sorts greeted you with newly made furniture and various pieces of artwork hanging on the walls. A door opened up into the hallway that held, what you assumed, the offices for the firm.

“Oh, Benji,” you breathed, placing a hand over your heart. “Daddy would be so proud of this place.”

Benjamin’s chest puffed up in pride as he led you down the hall and into his office. You passed a woman who came out of the office closest to the door. She was beautiful with her dark hair pulled back and her blue dress perfectly complimenting her complexion. She offered you a smile and then looked expectantly at your brother.

“Benjamin,” she began, “aren’t you going to introduce me?”

“Of course,” chuckled Benjamin. “Y/n, this is Natasha. Natasha, this is my younger sister, y/n.”

“Please, call me Phoenix,” she said, offering you a hand. You took it and gave it a firm shake. “A pleasure, Phoenix.”

“Your brother has been so excited to see you. All he ever does is talk about you! I feel like I’ve already known you for years,” she teased, causing him to look embarrassed. You chuckled and dropped your hand back to your side.

“I know the feeling. He’s gone on and on about the ‘remarkable, young woman who I’ve had the great pleasure of taking on as my new secretary.’”

“Must you two tease me so?” Benjamin groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“I have work I need to return to anyway,” laughed Phoenix, already turning to head back to the entrance. “Don’t be a stranger now, y/n.”

“She seems nice,” you said to your brother once Phoenix had rounded the corner. Putting a hand on your back, Benjamin guided you into his office, taking the chair opposite you as you both sat down.

“She certainly keeps things interesting around here,” he laughed. You scoffed, thinking back to your earlier conversation with your driver.

“As if things need to be more interesting around here,” you muttered. Benjamin gave you a perplexed look, and you sighed.

“I know all about that…Dagger Gang, Benji. Outlaws running about? Honestly, I don’t know how I let you talk me into coming here.”

“The Daggers are nothing to be concerned about,” he started, stopping when you shot him a skeptical look. Sighing, he continued, “They don’t usually cause trouble for those in town. Maverick has a sort of…truce with them.”

“Usually?” You questioned, still not convinced.

“There have been the odd occasions,” he stated slowly, seeming to pick his words carefully. “Usually when the odd person in town picks a fight or one of them gets too rowdy at the tavern. It’s nothing to concern yourself with, Scout. Really.”

“If you say so,” you relented, dropping the subject and looking out the window. Benjamin sighed in relief, and the pair of you sat in silence for a moment.

“I really am glad you’re here, Scout,” he said softly. Turning to meet your brother’s gaze, you saw the familiar fondness in them that you had missed the past six months. Benjamin was eight years your senior, and had declared himself as your protector from the second you were born. He had been one of the many constants in your life, and now he seemed to be the only one left.

Sighing, you replied, “You’ll have a lot more convincing to do in order to make me decided that this was a good idea.”

Benjamin cracked a smile, and placed his feet on his desk, leaning further back in his chair.

“I’m willing to do that,” he grinned.

“Get your feet off the desk, Benji,” you scowled. “We’re still civilized even if we’re living in the middle of nowhere.”

Ignoring you, Benjamin reached down to open a drawer, pulling out a packet of paper. Dropping the large stack onto the desk with a loud bang, he looked back up at you with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

“I’d love nothing more than for you to keep me company, Scout, but I still have paperwork I need to do before I’m finished for the day. If you’d like, you can sit here while I get it done, or you can get acquainted with the town you’ll be calling home.”

“Without an escort?” You spluttered, eyes widening in shock. Benjamin let out a hearty laugh, his head falling back as his shoulders shook.

“Welcome to the west, baby sister.”

You walked slowly down the dirt road that ran through the center of the bustling town. Each building was painted a different, bright color which made it easier to distinguish which business was which. A group of young boys suddenly ran in front of you, nearly knocking you to the ground. Stumbling back a few steps, you managed to regain your footing as the boys shouted an apology back at you from over their shoulders. Looking after them with a bemused look on your face, you felt a chill run up your spine as you hear a low chuckle from the porch of one of the buildings. Glancing up, you saw two older men leering at you. Both missing several teeth and covered in layers of dirt, you suppressed a shudder as one of them gives you a gummy grin. Smiling politely, you quickly made your way down the road.

The sun had started to set, and a chill settled in the air. A stark contrast from the heat of that morning. Slowing to a stop, you watched as several men went around lighting the lanterns outside of their businesses and along the streets. At least some things were reminiscent of home.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the large figure walk up behind you. You jumped when said large figure bumps into your back. You spun around to come face to face with a beautiful, buckskin stallion. Placing a hand on your chest and letting out a sigh of relief, you gave a halfhearted glare to the horse before you.

“You scared me,” you griped, earning an ear flick from the stallion. Turning to face the creature fully, you placed your hand gently on its snout, stroking lightly.

“My, aren’t you a pretty thing?” You cooed. The horse swung his head up and down as if nodding in agreement. You giggled, moving your hand to stroke his neck as he nuzzled into your hand.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything for you,” you laughed, earning another ear flick. You wondered how long he had been left out here. The reins attached to his bridle were tied around a post along with three other horses who paid you no mind. Humming, you look into his eyes.

“You know,” you began thoughtfully, “it wasn’t even my idea to move here. I left all of my friends back in Baltimore. I would go to parties in the evening and go for a stroll in the park the next day. There’s none of that here, I’m sure. What even is there to do?”

The horse moved closer, pushing his head into your arms.

“Perhaps you’ll be my friend,” you mused. The horse lets out a snort and you laugh out a breath, smiling softly. Your father had loved horses, and he had made sure to pass on that love to his children. Many happy memories were made riding along the countryside of your family’s country home.

“You’re right,” you relented, “I doubt I’ll be seeing much of you after tonight.”

You continued to stroke the horse’s neck, murmuring soft praises as the large beast seemed to bask in the attention.

“Well, darlin’. There must be something special about you, huh?” Came a male voice from behind you. You whipped around just as a sturdy body leans against the post. He was unbelievably handsome. Gold hair complimented golden skin, and green eyes held twinkles of mirth and mischief with a smirk to match. He wore a simple, white cotton shirt with a brown vest and wool pants. His boots and the blue bandana tied around his neck looked a little worse for wear. You blink as you realize that you’ve been staring for longer than would be deemed appropriate.

“I’m sorry?” You questioned, still caught in a daze at the beautiful man before you. You didn’t even think men like him existed in this part of the world. The man gestured to the horse you were still cuddled up by.

“Whiskey here doesn’t warm up to just anyone,” he grinned, resting a hand next to yours. “In fact, he doesn’t like much of anyone accept me.”

You didn’t answer, not sure how to respond. Instead, you turned your attention back to Whiskey who was attempting to nibble at the strands of hair that had fallen out of your updo. Giggling lightly, you pushed the horse away and take a half step back.

The man took a half step closer to you, the grin having given way to a salacious smirk. “I haven’t seen you ‘round these parts before. You new in town?”

“Yes,” you answered politely. “I just arrived here.”

“Figured,” he chuckled. “I would have remembered seeing someone as pretty as you walkin’ around.”

You blushed, suddenly unable to maintain eye contact. This seemed to embolden the stranger.

“So, sugar,” he started, “how much for your debut?”

You looked at him with eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

Chuckling, he continued. “How much is it going to cost me to have you in my bed for the hour?”

Surely you had misheard him.

“I beg your pardon?”

“C’mon, honey. It’ll be worth your while,” he smirked, running his eyes up and down your form. “Promise it’ll be good for you too. Hell, I’ll even pay for the night.”

You felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, and in a most completely undignified manner, you began to splutter, trying to maintain your sense of calm while feeling a red hot wave of rage overtake you.

“How dare you!” You shrieked. You saw the smirk on the stranger’s face falter. Good.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?”

“The matter,” you seethed, “is that you have just assumed that I am some woman of ill repute, sir.”

He paused, studying you. “Well, I just figured since you were dressed up so pretty, it must have been to draw in customers.”

“I’m not a whore!” You shouted, drawing looks from passersby. The man held up his hands in surrender. In any other situation it would have been almost comical how frightened he seemed of you considering how he towered over you.

“My sincerest apologies, miss,” he offered, trying to hold back a grin. You turned to walk back towards your brother’s firm with a scowl. Stopping, you peered over your shoulder, fixing the stranger with another glare.

“I would advise you, Mr…?”

“Seresin. Jake Seresin.”

“Mr. Seresin,” you breathed. “I would advise you to not make such horrible assumptions next time you come across a woman you don’t know.”

You didn’t wait for his response as you continued walking. You hadn’t made it ten steps before a shadow blocks the last remaining rays of the sun from your field of view.

“What are you doing, Mr. Seresin?”

“Call me Jake,” he smirked. You frowned up at him, stopping in your tracks to face him.

“I most certainly will not,” you huffed. “Now answer my question.”

Jake stared at you for what felt like entirely too long, and you started to fidget under his gaze.

“Well, since I accidentally insulted you,” he cocked his head at your glare, “I figured the least I could do is walk you to wherever it is you’re going.”

“While I appreciate the gesture,” you said with gritted teeth and a polite smile, “that is entirely unnecessary.”

“Nonsense,” Jake chirped, “what kind of gentleman would I be if I allowed a beautiful young lady to walk around unescorted through town?”

You gave him a dubious look which only caused the smirk on his face to grow into a full blown grin. Huffing once more, you turned back towards the path and began walking. Jake slid up to your side smoothly and offered you his arm. You scoffed at him, and he raised his eyebrows. Scowling, you took his arm and tried your damndest to ignore the obnoxious grin on your companion’s face. It took you only minutes to arrive back at the firm, and you turned to face Jake who glanced from the firm back to you.

“The lawyer?” he questioned, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Yes,” you stated simply, stepping away from him to put some distance between the two of you. Jake crossed his arms and stared up at the building.

“You come here to join your fiancé?” He asked, tone even and face still unreadable.

Surely he wasn’t... “Are you jealous, Mr. Seresin?”

Jake looked at you then, jaw set and green eyes ablaze. “Answer the question, darlin’.”

You shook your head. “No. I’m not even engaged. Benjamin is my brother.”

He seemed to relax at that. He gave you another look that you couldn’t quite place before shifting back to his now familiar smirk.

“I don’t think I got the pleasure of your name, sugar.”

“I highly doubt you’ll need it,” you stated simply. He raised an eyebrow.

“And why is that?”

“Because I don’t believe our paths will cross again, Jake,” you said, lips curling in a small smile.

“Ah, that’s no fair, darlin’. All I want to know is your name,” he grinned, leaning in so close that you could feel his breath fan across your face. Your own breath catches as you locked eyes with him.

“Just my name?” You whispered. He nods.

“Just your name.”

At that moment, your brother and Phoenix chose to walk out the door, stopping in their tracks at the sight before them.

“Scout?” Benjamin said hesitantly at the same time Phoenix said your name. Jake’s eyes shifted to the pair, and that smirk settled on his face once more. His eyes flickered back to you as he leaned away and you found that you were able to breathe normally once again.

“Y/n, huh?” he chuckled. Then he cocked his head and gave you a mirthful look. “Or is it Scout?”

“It’s neither to you,” you scowled, causing him to let out another laugh.

Benjamin walked quickly down the steps and down to your side where he leveled Jake with a stare.

“How can we be of service, Hangman?” he asked tensely, and you looked up at him with a puzzled expression. Hangman? But that was the name of…

Your head whipped back around to look at Jake who just grinned at your brother before shooting you a wink.

“Just escorting your sister back to your door, Benjamin. Wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea, would we?” He grinned, not taking his eyes off of you. Benjamin stiffened beside you.

“Yes, well,” he began, “thank you, Hangman. It’s greatly appreciated.”

“Anytime,” replied Jake, already turning to walk back. He gave you another wink. “I’ll be seeing you around then, Scout.”

And with that, he turned on his heels and walked away. The three of you watched him walk away in silence. What on earth had just happened?

[monotonesmile]

omg hihi! can I request a Damian Wayne x reader where reader pranks him by ignoring him for a day. but if backfires because he actually gets really sad?

Prank Gone Wrong!!

[Damian Wayne X GN!Reader]

[Word Count: 1896

[Warnings: N/A]

[Fic Genre: Hurt/Comfort]

[Notes: Pouty Damian Wayne my beloved.]

—————————————————————

The moon was high in the sky as the moonlight streamed in through their window, illuminating their room in a soft glow, the sound of crickets chirping outside was a comforting and calm noise, a surprisingly calm night for the city of crime that is Gotham.

They were scrolling through their phone while lounging in bed, just scrolling YouTube before they had to sleep. After all, it is a school night, they’ll have to sleep eventually. Although, their attention was caught by a prank video where a girl was ignoring her boyfriend for an entire day, the, probably scripted, video making them snicker a little before their mind wanders into wondering how Damian would react if they started to just ignore him for a day.

They don’t know how he’d react to this prank in particular, they’ve pranked him in the past though, maybe he’d be pouty or grumpy because of it, but it sounds fun and they’re intrigued to see what Damian would do if they did ignore him for an entire day. Curiosity gets the better of them and they grin while turning their phone off, setting it aside and deciding to prank Damian the following day, thinking it’ll just be harmless fun, besides, Damian will probably just get annoyed and pouty, that’ll be a sight for them.

—————————————————————

As the next day comes around, the sound of students hustling about the halls to gather their supplies from lockers and head to class is the first thing that greets Damian, the usual sound of students talking with their friends, everything normal like every day previously. Though currently, he’s far more focused on trying to find his partner as he would every day, he usually starts his school day by talking with them about anything happening in their classes or if they’re possibly busy later, it’s one of the many things he enjoys.

Damian eventually found them after trying not to get squished by the crowd of students wandering the halls, seeing them looking through the locker, likely gathering their items for the first class of the day, it still brought a small smile to his face, no matter the situation, he finds himself smiling whenever he sees them.

“Beloved!” Damian called out to them but they had given no response, which was odd, but it’s entirely possible that they just couldn’t hear him over the multiple loud conversations happening around them, it is a crowded hallway and it’s not fairly big, so they probably just didn’t hear him, that’s fine, he’ll just get closer.

It wouldn’t take much to just walk over to them while they were closing their locker and heading off to their first class of the day, so Damian picked up his pace, quickly getting to their side, slowing down once he was beside them, feeling their familiar warmth just by standing beside them. He does notice that they have yet to say anything to him though, which he finds odd as well. They looked focused on something else entirely, though he doesn’t know what, trying to think back on previous conversations they had recently.

Perhaps they were just distracted by something, he doesn’t really think much of it, recalling that they said something the day before about a test they had today, so they’re probably just focusing on the curriculum of that class, knowing they likely want to get a decent grade, so he’s not particularly fretting over it. He can’t blame them for wanting to get a good grade, plus, he doesn’t mind just walking with them to class, even if they’re silent, it’s still nice to be by their side.

Damian walks beside them as they head to class, subconsciously opening the door for them before following them inside, taking his seat beside them and getting his notebook out, readying for the long school day ahead, putting their ignoring of him on the backburner until later on at lunch where he can talk to them later, for now, it’s time to focus and learn.

—————————————————————

Lunchtime rolls around a few hours later, the cafeteria filled with loud and rowdy students as Damian sat down beside them in their own little corner where they can be away from all the drama and noise, setting his lunch down, he was already prepared for them to start chatting about their day and possible plans they had for the day as they would do normally, yet nothing came this time, just pure silence, they didn’t even acknowledge him sitting down next to them, just focused on their food.

Not even the test Damian had taken was as confusing as this was, they weren’t talking to him at all, it’s been hours without their voice, and he hates it. He doesn’t like this random silence, he could practically hear his heart beating in his ears without their voice to fill the silence and drown it out, their voice was one of his favorite sounds in the world, but without it, he feels a void in his heart.

Damian frowns as he glances over at them, not that he’d ever admit it, but he was excited to hear them talk to him. It’s a possibility that they were just worried over their test score, but even then, they’d rattle his ear off about it, perhaps something with their personal life was distracting them, he had no clue and they weren’t making it any easier. He does know that he wants you to talk to him again, the silence was making him feel weird.

“Beloved? Is something wrong?” He tried to get them to talk to him, questioning if something was truly wrong, if they possibly wanted to talk about it, but again, no response, just pure silence as they ate, ignoring him completely.

“Beloved…please, talk to me.” Damian loathed pleading or begging, but he hated this weird feeling in his chest, he needed to hear them speak again, it was causing him to overthink every single possible thing that could’ve made them do this. Did something happen to upset them? So much that they went silent? Is it possible that he did something to upset you? He hopes not.

Damian hates this, he hates being ignored by them, it’s making his chest tighten up with dread and an odd feeling, his heart feels heavy, he doesn’t understand this, or them, is he truly upset that they weren’t talking to him? Is he…sad? He’s upset that they weren’t speaking, he’s gotten so used to hearing them speak and their voice that without it, it feels like something is missing, that something is wrong, and he despises it.

—————————————————————

The end of the school day comes to a close, the bell ringing throughout the halls as students rush past each other to escape to the buses or their parents cars to return home and leave the school day behind, but Damian didn’t, he was far too busy with his thoughts, he needed an answer to their silence, needing to know why he was being ignored, searching the halls for them, maneuvering through the crowd, trying to spot them in the sea of students.

Damian had finally spotted them heading to the lobby to leave as well, he was quick to run over to them, grabbing their arm without saying a word and dragging them to a corner where it’s quieter and away from anyone that could listen in before he finally confronted them.

“Beloved, why are you ignoring me? Did I do something to upset you?” Damian held them in place with his hand on their arm, he needed to know if this was his fault, if he upset them, he wanted them to talk to him. “I apologize if I did, but I do not like you ignoring me, it feels weird not having your voice following me. Please, talk to me, it feels like something is missing from my life without you speaking.”

He almost looked heartbroken as he spoke, even though he was trying so desperately to hide how much it hurt, but it was obvious in the way his eyebrows creased and scrunched up, his eyes downcast as his hand moved to hold their own, squeezing it gently. It made their resolve crumble almost instantly, they hadn’t meant to make him worry, they didn’t think he’d get this upset by it.

“Oh god…I’m sorry, I was trying to prank you, I didn’t think this would be the outcome…” They finally broke their day long silence with an apology, they didn’t like seeing him look so heartbroken, he’s usually so stoic with his expressions and emotions, his sudden display of sadness took them off guard completely.

“I’m so sorry, Damian, I saw a stupid prank and thought it’d be interesting to see how you’d react, I didn’t think you’d worry this much over it…” They reached up to gently cup his face, feeling him lean into their touch, a soft frown on his face, it had completely softened his sharp features, making him look so much sadder than anything they’d seen previously.

Damian melts into their touch, breathing a sigh of relief, he was truly happy that this was just a dumb prank, and that he hadn’t done anything to make them upset, that doesn’t make it hurt any less, but hearing them finally speak makes his heart lift back up, filling the void he had been feeling the entire day.

“So you aren’t mad at me?” He had to make sure, he doubts that they’d lie about it, it definitely sounded like something they’d do, they’ve pranked him plenty of times in the past, with varying reactions from him.

“God no, I’m not mad at you at all, Dami.” They smile softly, dispelling his worries with their words, slowly tracing their thumb across his cheek, not wanting him to worry any further about a prank they did that was definitely a mistake on their part.

“Good,” Damian huffs, his original stoicism returning as he crosses his arms, trying to look like he was just heartbroken or pouting, and failing spectacularly because he’s still leaning into their palms. “Never do that again.”

“I won’t, no more pranks that involve ignoring you.” They chuckle a little, trying not to snicker at his pouty face, they’re struggling to though, he just looks so damn cute like this.

“Stop laughing. You owe me a date where you can just ramble the entire time, to make up for your single day involving a vow of silence.” Damian grumbles at them, still trying to look like he isn’t pouting, he just wants to hear their voice for hours now after being deprived for a whole day, so they will be going on a date, no other options, it’s final.

They actually laugh at that before nodding with a big smile, their arms falling to rest around his shoulders in a loose hug, they missed talking to him anyway, it was truly a struggle to not talk or acknowledge him an entire day, this is something they missed, just holding each other. Damian rolls his eyes before wrapping his arms around them in a hug, albeit his is much tighter, they’d been dodging his affection so he will be practically crushing them in a hug now, it feels nice to have their warmth against him again, the comforting feeling returning to him.

—————————————————————

[Requests are open!]

[redbluepurple123]

Sylus & The Claw Machine

Be so for real…

You’re telling me the overlord of the N109 Zone is playing claw machine with you? He set aside overlord duties to get you that plushy you want?

Well, this is my take on how that would go the first time..

Note: I’m still so new to this fanfiction thing! This is my second one ever - I hope you enjoy it! 1K words.

Tags: His POV, pure fluff, a little humor, claw machine moment, Sylus being just a little grumpy, use of “kitten”, that damn crow plushie

Sylus had enough blood on his hands that if he washed them in the Linkon River, the water would run red.

He terrorized entire factions—entire planets—to achieve the things he wanted. He’d buried cities and people and stood steadfast as a harbinger of death to those that stood in between him and his goal.

And he would have it no other way.

That was the fundamental understanding in the N109 zone. Cross Sylus and your timer started. When it ended, well…that was for him to decide, really.

It didn’t bring him joy. It also didn’t bring him discomfort. One could not criticize the lion for having sharp teeth. It was natural. There was order in it. Hierarchy. Only when order was disturbed did the lion kill.

The promise of death was a currency and it paved his path thus far.

So, how could he make an unliving thing pay with its life? This question, he did not have an answer to.

“A little to the left,” you pressed your forehead to the glass, breath fogging it as you spoke

After your three failed claw machine attempts, you turned to him with those pleading eyes and begged for the crow. Of course you could have it. You could have whatever you wanted—the whole inventory of plushies. He’d have them mailed to your house and bury you alive in these critters.

But that suggestion fell on deaf ears.

“No!” You gripped his wrist, just as his dark evol began to envelop the crow. “You have to win it fair and square.”

Sylus blinked at the crow, taunting eyes and stupid neck tutu staring back at him. Then he blinked at you and the pleading on your face destroyed any resolve he had left.

“Alright,” he would make quick work of this, then. Sylus assumed position and aligned the claw just so, perfectly placed to get you the one thing you wanted most which, subsequently, was exactly what he wanted most.

A crow plushie.

Who had he become?

He pressed the button, standing back and crossing his arms in victory as the claw snatched up the crow and carried it over to the drop point—

Only for the crow to fall, just beyond the threshold of the drop.

Eyes flared, lips parted, he was back at the controls in disbelief before he even registered you giggled.

You giggled.

“Is something funny?” He growled, deadly focus on the controls.

You kept your forehead pressed to the glass, staring at the bird. “It’s taunting us.”

Without taking his eyes from the unfortunate target before him, Sylus sipped that fruity nonsense you ordered from the vending machine and nudged the handle bar until the claw hovered over that elusive fucking bird.

One try left. 23 seconds. He took another fruity sip for good measure.

Sylus pressed the button. The claw descended, snatched around plushy and dropped it unceremoniously in the same exact spot.

“Shoot,” you hissed, flattening a palm to the glass. “Oh well. There’s always next—“

Sylus was gone, the rest of your sentence dying in the air.

He returned with a bucket of coins and without so much as a word, slid one into the machine.

“Sylus,” you breathed, grunting as you lifted the bucket—BUCKET—of coins from the ground. “This is, like, a year’s worth of coins, what were you thinking!?”

But your exasperation was cut off by the lights and buzzers of the claw machine sounding. Eyes wide, you dropped the coin bucket with a CLANK and turned to see his smirk on full display.

He pointed to the machine’s door. “Open it.”

And there it was…your crow plushy.

The look on your face was enough to convince him not to light the bird on fire.

“I’m all out of juice and I saw snacks in the vending machine beside it.” Sylus flicked a finger and four coins carried on the dark tendrils of his power flew from the bucket into your hand. “Grab us some? We may be here for a while.”

A small pile of bottles and food wrappers had formed by the time you were asked to leave.

He sent you home with another crow. And the tomato thing that anatomically made no sense. And the dolphin. And duplicates of all of them before he found an attendant to restock the vending machine just so he could clear it out once more for you. A third time to be sure. The manager had to intervene before a fourth time and, had it not been daylight and very public, Sylus would have made an example of him.

But you were glowing with joy, nuzzled into his side, and that, the sensation of your smile blooming on his arm as he won each plushy, was enough to quell the storm rolling inside his chest.

37. You went home with 37 plushies that day, so many, they filled two shipping boxes of them and mailed them to your house—all except for the crow plushy you kept at your side. That, and a half a bucket of coins.

“For next time,” Sylus said, flicking one in the air, pulling you close to him as you walked down the city sidewalk.

“You take this one,” you handed him the crow plushy. “I have the second being shipped to the house. We can each have one.”

Sylus feigned a smile for you and scooped the black bird into his hand. He narrowed his eyes at it, and, if he looked close enough, it was certainly taunting him.

“We could come back tomorrow and try to get more crows,” you said, wrapping both hands around his arm. “I’m sure we could get a whole flock of them.”

“Did you know a flock of crows is called a murder?” Which is what he was nearly about to commit earlier in the day if this crow hadn’t come home with you.

“It’s decided then. I want a murder of crows.”

“For you, kitten? Anything.”

[nanamineedstherapy]

The Cruelty of Time

Nanami Kento x F!Reader, Gojo Satoru x F!Reader, Ryomen Sukuna x F!Reader

Summary: Nanami/Gojo/Sukuna always know when something is wrong. He gives you space. He waits. But patience only lasts so long when the woman he adores refuses to speak. If words won’t do, he has other ways of making you talk. (All men get their separate parts & have different readers, but the plot is connected, so it's recommended to read all.) Trigger Warnings: Fluff & SMUT (MDNI), Porn with feelings (because he cares), Four-Armed True Form Sukuna, Someone taps out mid-sexy time, Mirror show-off moment, Enthusiastic consent, Sukuna’s a menace, not a villain, Someone is possessive but in a feminist way, Sexy age crisis, Slow descent into madness (yours, not his), Nanami is the firmest soft dom, Gojo is fleeing for his life, Canon-typical patience, canon-untypical restraint, You won’t talk? They have other methods, Nanami & Gojo are problems, Gojo & Sukuna are societal threats. Kinks: Praise, Choking, Voice, Spanking, Manhandling (effective, controlled, ruining-you edition), A/N: Listen. There are two types of people in this world: 1. People who read JJK men's fics because they appreciate the depth of the character. 2. People who read JJK men's fics because they want to be handled. This fic is for the latter. As always, the reader can be hallucinated as any race or body type, no explicit descriptions have been used, but all men have different readers, and no, you are not allowed to double time them. I, too, am just a girl, standing in front of a fictional salaryman, begging him to fix me with violent backshots. Enjoy responsibly. Or don’t. I support all life choices here.

Nanami Kento x F!Reader

The sound of the front door clicking shut was soft, barely disrupting the quiet hum of the kitchen. But Nanami noticed immediately.

He didn’t look up right away, finishing the precise cut of the knife against the cutting board before setting it aside. The scent of miso soup and grilled fish filled the air, warm and inviting.

Yet, something felt off.

You hadn’t come running to him like you usually did.

He wiped his hands on a towel, finally turning toward the entrance.

Standing in the doorway, your shoulders slightly hunched, the usual brightness in your gaze absent. You didn’t even remove your shoes right away, just lingered there, fingers toying with the strap of your bag.

Nanami set the towel down.

“Welcome home,” he said, his voice steady, but his sharp gaze didn’t miss the way you avoided his eyes. “Is something wrong?”  

You hesitated for just a second—so quick an average person wouldn’t have caught it—before forcing a small, practiced smile. “No, it’s nothing. Just… a long day.”

A deflection.  

Nanami exhaled silently, slow and measured, before stepping toward you. His presence was grounding, solid, and when he reached out to cup your face, his touch was warm, his thumbs grazing your cheeks with quiet insistence.  

“Tell me.”  

Your lips parted, and for a moment, he thought you might actually say it.

But then you shook your head, slipping from his grasp with a tired laugh. “It’s nothing, really.”  

Nanami didn’t believe that for a second. He knew you too well.

But he let you go—for now.  

However, Nanami Kento was nothing if not patient.

He watched you carefully.

During dinner, he served your plate first. When you barely picked at the food, he refilled your miso soup, watching for any reaction.

You still wouldn’t talk.  

On the couch, he pulled you against him, resting a hand on your thigh, his thumb tracing absentminded circles against your skin. Your body melted into his, but you were quiet, too quiet.  

Fine. If you weren’t going to tell him, he’d make you.  

Nanami played his last card when you were pinned beneath him, his body braced above yours, his eyes searching yours with quiet, unwavering intensity. The weight of him was grounding, solid, leaving no room to escape. His fingers traced up your arm, slow, deliberate.  

You cracked.  

“A 14-year-old called me ‘aunt’ today.” Your voice wavered, as if the confession itself made the words more real. You swallowed hard, blinking up at him. “Kento, am I… old?”  

Nanami stared at you, processing your words. 

Then, to your utter horror, he chuckled—a deep, quiet sound, barely more than a breath but unmistakable. “That’s what’s been bothering you?”

Your mouth fell open.  

You slapped his chest, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “It’s not funny!”

“It’s a little funny,” he murmured, and that rare, faint smile of his appeared, brief but devastating.  

You groaned, cheeks heating. “You’re terrible.”

“Hardly,” he said, voice still laced with amusement, but his expression was already shifting, darkening. His fingers traced a slow line down your side, over the curve of your waist, before gripping your hip in a way that made heat pool low in your belly. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear.  

“If you really need a reminder of how desirable you are, I can oblige.”  

The change in the air was instant.  

Before you could fully process what was happening, Nanami flipped you onto your stomach. The movement was smooth, practiced, possessive. 

A gasp escaped your lips, your pulse spiking as he pressed his weight against your back, his breath ghosting over your ear.  

“Take off your clothes.”  

His voice was calm—but absolute.  

A shiver ran down your spine, anticipation coiling hot in your stomach. Your fingers trembled slightly as you fumbled with the button and zipper of your pants. He didn’t help—not at first. He just watched, letting the tension build, his fingers grazing over your wrists as if testing your obedience.  

When you finally rid yourself of them, he took over. His hands—broad, warm, possessive—skimmed down your thighs, taking his time. Then, with no warning, he smacked your ass—not enough to hurt, but enough to make you jolt.  

Your breath hitched.  

“Good,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Now stay just like that.”  

Nanami never rushed.  

And tonight would be no exception.  

His touch was deliberate, exploring every inch of you, his fingertips mapping out the places he already knew by heart. He traced the curve of your spine, following it with his lips, leaving a path of heat that made your stomach tighten.  

Then his hands found your breasts, locking them firmly in his broad forearms. The warmth of his palms, the slow drag of his fingers over sensitive skin—it was intoxicating.  

You arched instinctively, but his grip only tightened.  

“Stay still,” he murmured. His voice was low, gravelly, commanding. A quiet promise of what was to come.  

A sharp contrast to the way he leaned down, pressing his chest against your back, his body so warm, so solid behind you. The heat of his skin bled through the thin fabric of his unbuttoned shirt. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear, his breath slow and controlled, sending another shiver down your spine.  

“You’re so beautiful like this.” His voice was husky, confident. “All spread out for me.” 

There was a smirk in his tone, but beneath it—something darker. Something that made your stomach coil tight with anticipation.  

His hands slid lower, tracing the dips and curves of your body, learning you all over again.

He was taking his time, savoring the moment, building the tension until you were left trembling beneath him, aching, waiting, wanting.

And Nanami Kento never left you wanting for long.

His fingers trail between your thighs, slow, deliberate, teasing the sensitive skin there. The warmth of his touch lingers, each stroke purposeful as he explores the softness of your inner thighs, coaxing shivers from your skin.

Then—contact. A jolt of pleasure snaps through you as Nanami's fingers find your slick folds. He starts gentle, the press of his fingertips measured, exploratory, before circling your clit with practiced precision. His strokes grow more confident, more insistent, like he's testing how much you can take before you unravel.

“K… Ken…” Your breath shudders as you moan his name, eyes fluttering shut when he pushes a finger inside you, slow. The stretch is just enough to make your thighs clench, your body arching into his touch.

His lips brush your ear, his voice a low murmur laced with quiet control. "You're so wet… so ready for me."

You don’t know if it’s ovulation or if he’s using his technique, but your body responds like you’ve been set alight. The heat is unbearable, a raw, urgent need that coils tight in your core. By the time he adds a third finger, you're trembling, barely able to keep yourself upright.

"Come on, baby," he coaxes, his tone rough with restraint. "Let go. Let me make you feel good."

His fingers move faster, precise and unrelenting, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge. His other hand finds your chest, rolling and flicking your nipple between his fingers, sending sparks of sensation straight to where you need him most. His mouth follows, lips dragging over your neck, sucking bruises into your skin, marking you as his. His soft blond hair falls over his forehead, half-shielding the dark intensity of his gaze.

The world beyond him dissolves. There's only his touch, his voice, the deep, aching need he ignites in you. And then—you're falling. Your body tightens, pleasure cresting and breaking in waves so powerful they leave you shaking.

Nanami doesn’t stop. He rides out your high, drawing every last pulse from your body until you slump forward, spent. But you barely have time to catch your breath before his fingers start moving again, slow but purposeful, building you up all over again.

This time, it's brutal—your second orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body wrung dry from the intensity of it. Your moan is near-silent, choked by the sheer force of pleasure as you convulse around his fingers.

His arms wrap around you before you can collapse completely, holding you firm against his chest, his voice a quiet, reverent murmur. "You're so beautiful when you come." His hands slide up your trembling form before he tilts your chin, forcing your gaze toward the large mirror in front of you. "Look."

Through heavy-lidded eyes, you see yourself—your skin flushed, lips swollen, body still trembling from his touch. And behind you, Nanami watches with dark, unreadable eyes, his presence imposing even in his quiet control.

“I could watch you all day.” He smirks against your skin.

The sharp click of his belt unbuckling cuts through the heavy silence. Your breath hitches. He moves unhurriedly, the rustle of fabric deliberate, almost taunting. Every sound, every movement is calculated restraint, meant to drive you mad with anticipation.

And then—you feel him. Hard and insistent against your hips, the heat of him searing even before he presses against your entrance.

His hands grip your hips, firm, grounding. The weight of his body blankets you, keeping you caged, controlled. The blunt pressure of his tip has your breath catching in your throat. He doesn’t push in—he waits.

"Tell me you want this," he murmurs, voice dark, edged with command.

Your fingers dig into the couch armrest, knuckles white. "I want it," you breathe, trembling. "I want you, Kento."

That’s all he needs.

His hips roll forward, pushing into you with devastating slowness. The stretch is exquisite—just shy of overwhelming—but you take it, back arching as you adjust to the fullness of him.

Nanami groans, deep and guttural, his hands tightening on your hips as he sinks in fully. "So tight," he mutters, voice strained. "Like I don’t stretch you open every night."

His first thrust is measured, testing, but the next is harder, dragging a sharp gasp from your lips. His hands slide up your back, fingers splaying between your shoulder blades as he leans over you, chest pressing flush against your back. When his lips find the sensitive spot where your neck meets your spine, he bites down, leaving a mark that has you gasping his name.

"Kento," you cry, voice breaking as he angles deeper, hitting that spot that makes you see white. "Please—"

“Please what?” he asked, his voice a low rumble against your ear. He knew exactly what he was doing, his thrusts becoming more purposeful, each one driving you closer to the edge. “Tell me.”

“Faster,” you begged, your nails digging into the fabric of the couch. “Harder.”

He obliged without hesitation. One hand fisted in your hair, the other pressing between your shoulder blades, shoving your face into the couch cushions as his pace turned brutal. The force of his thrusts sent shocks of pleasure rippling through you, each movement deliberate, punishing, like he was staking his claim all over again.

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, obscene and rhythmic, punctuated by the ragged gasps you barely managed to choke out and the low, guttural groans spilling from his lips. His hands slid back to your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises, holding you in place as he fucked you like he needed you to break for him.

Then the angle shifted—deep, perfect—and the pleasure was blinding. You cried out, body convulsing as he found that devastating spot inside you, his pace relentless.

“You feel that?” His voice was thick with control, rough with need. His fingers dipped between your thighs, circling your clit with ruthless precision, making your legs quake. His free hand slid up, wrapping around your throat, tilting your head back just enough for his lips to graze the shell of your ear.

“That’s it,” he murmured, voice dark, velvety, commanding. “Let go for me.”

You couldn’t hold back if you tried. The pleasure coiled and snapped, tearing through you with a force that left you boneless. Your body clenched tight around him, pulling him deeper, and the curse of a man above you groaned, his rhythm faltering for half a second before he recovered, his grip tightening, dragging you through every last pulse of your orgasm.

But he wasn’t done.

He set a relentless pace, his thrusts deep, deliberate, designed to unravel you. You were lost to sensation, barely able to form words. Every nerve in your body burned with overstimulation, but Nanami was merciless, pushing you higher and higher, refusing to let you fall too soon.

“Kento—” Your voice broke, a plea tangled in your breathless moans. “I—I can’t—”

“You can.” His growl rumbled through you, dark and certain. “And you will.”

His grip on your hips tightened as he pulled you back to meet each thrust. You sobbed his name, your body trembling as he dragged you to the edge over and over, refusing to let you fall until he decided you were ready. The pleasure was unbearable, exquisite, a slow, torturous build that left you on the brink of madness.

Then, finally—he let you break.

You shattered, your body seizing around him as another orgasm crashed through you, this one harder, more intense, leaving you trembling, gasping, undone.

Nanami wasn’t far behind.

His thrusts grew erratic, deeper, more desperate as he chased his own release. His breath turned ragged, his grip bruising as he buried himself to the hilt, a guttural groan spilling from his lips as he spilled inside you, the heat of it sending another shudder through your already-wrecked body.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The only sound in the room was your uneven breathing, the scent of sweat and sex heavy in the air. Then, slowly, Nanami leaned over you, pressing a lingering kiss to the nape of your neck, his lips warm, reverent.

He pulled out, a sharp exhale leaving him as he collapsed beside you, gathering you against his chest before you could even think to move. His arms locked around you, his presence solid, grounding. Against your back, you felt the steady thud of his heartbeat, slow, measured, as if he had all the time in the world to hold you.

“You’re not old,” he murmured, his voice softer now, but no less firm. “And you’re certainly not an ‘aunt.’” He tilted your chin, making sure you were looking at him. “You’re beautiful. And you’re mine.” His fingers brushed over your cheek, his touch achingly gentle compared to the way he’d just wrecked you. “Don’t ever forget that.”

A sleepy, satisfied smile tugged at your lips. “You’re just saying that because you’re biased.”

“Maybe.” His lips twitched into that rare, fleeting smile—the one only you ever got to see. “But it doesn’t make it any less true.”

As you drifted off to sleep in his arms, utterly spent, you couldn’t help but think—maybe, just maybe, being called ‘aunt’ wasn’t so bad after all. Not when Nanami Kento was there to remind you exactly how wanted, how completely his you really were.

Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

The front door clicked shut. Soft, nearly imperceptible under the hum of the TV and the distant rustling of Gojo Satoru digging through the pantry like a gremlin.

But he noticed immediately.

Not because he had superhuman reflexes (though, yeah, he did), but because you didn’t call out to him.

Usually, you’d beeline straight for him, drape yourself across the couch with a dramatic groan, and demand cuddles or snacks—sometimes both, depending on the severity of the day’s atrocities. But today?

You just stood there, fingers toying with the strap of your bag, expression unreadable.

Gojo poked his head out from the kitchen, a bag of chips in one hand and a smug grin already forming. “Baaaaabe,” he drawled. “Did you know that if you stare into the void long enough, it starts staring back?”

Nothing.

No laugh, no eye roll. Not even a scoff.

His grin faltered. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said immediately. Too immediately.

Gojo narrowed his eyes. “That’s suspicious. That’s weird.”

You huffed, kicking off your shoes with more force than necessary. “I’m fine, Satoru.”

“You’re lying.” He was on you in an instant, looming at full height, his ridiculous socks skidding across the floor as he stopped right in your path. “I always know when something’s wrong.”

He bent forward, tilting his head to meet your eyes. His infinity wasn’t even on, but it still felt like there was no space between you. Just him—his scent, his warmth, the weight of his attention, all-consuming.

“Tell me.”

You pushed past him. “No.”

Gojo gasped, clutching his chest like you’d shot him. “What do you mean ‘no’?! I’m your husband! Your best friend! Your confidant, your one true love, your designated carrier of heavy objects—”

“I said it’s nothing,” you repeated, brushing past him to drop your bag onto the couch.

Gojo flopped down beside you, head immediately landing on your lap, limbs sprawling like a crime scene outline. “Fine,” he said, draping an arm across his face. “I’ll just die then.”

You ignored him.

For the next hour, he tried everything.

Subtle tactics (brushing your hair back, murmuring “soft little baby, tell me” in that unbearably sweet voice).

Not-so-subtle tactics (poking your cheek repeatedly until you looked at him).

Absolute war crimes (pulling out his phone and putting on the loudest, most obnoxious COD edits, even though he hated when you watched those).

But you were a fortress, a damn vault, giving him nothing but the occasional glare.

That was fine. Gojo loved a challenge.

He ramped it up—followed you to the kitchen, caging you against the counter with his arms. Then to the bedroom, sprawled across the bed, legs kicking like a toddler. Then the bathroom, where he straight-up sat on the floor outside the door.

“Y’know,” he said through the wood. “Consumerism has ruined women’s self-confidence. It’s criminal. Devastating. Society has—”

“Satoru, I swear to God—”

“Six-foot-three, by the way.”

You whipped open the door and smacked him with a towel.

“Hey!” he laughed, shielding himself. “Was that necessary?”

“Yes!”

And still, he persisted.

It wasn’t until he had you pinned against the bed, his weight pressing down, his hands bracing on either side of your head, that you finally cracked.

“A kid called me auntie today.”

Gojo blinked.

You stared up at him, mouth pressing into a thin line. “A 14-year-old kid, Satoru.” You swallowed hard, voice a little smaller now. “Am I… old?”

Gojo’s face went blank.

Then—

Then—

He wheezed.

Laughter exploded out of him, so sudden and uncontrollable he practically fell off you, rolling onto his back, clutching his stomach.

“Oh my God—”

You sat up, glaring. “Satoru—”

“Babe—” He gasped for air, wiping at his eyes. “Oh, babe, no—”

He didn’t get to finish.

You were already off the bed, marching to the kitchen.

His laughter died real fast when you returned with a wooden spoon, gripping it with murderous intent.

“Wait—WAIT—”

But you were on him, swinging with the precision of a seasoned warrior (Yaga).

Gojo scrambled, dodging like his life depended on it, flailing as you chased him around the apartment.

“You think this is funny?!” Smack.

“OW—BABE—” Smack.

“Satoru, I swear to GOD—” Smack.

“SORRY BABE, PLEASE—”

Somewhere between the third and fourth swing, Gojo finally caught the spoon, twisting it from your grip and flipping you onto the bed.

The air shifted instantly, thick with tension.

His weight pinned you, trapping you beneath him, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. He leaned in, breath warm against your ear, his voice dropping to a low, sultry whisper. “You wanna know what I think?”

You swallowed, body burning from the chase—and now, from something else entirely.

“I think,” he murmured, fingers trailing down your sides, slipping beneath your shirt with a tantalizing slowness, “that you’re fucking gorgeous.”

A shiver ran through you as heat coiled low in your stomach, intensifying under his touch.

His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart with infuriating ease, hiking your skirt up just enough to send your heart racing. “You drive me insane.” He kissed you—deep, dizzying, swallowing your breath as he rubbed against you. “And I’m gonna make you forget you ever cared about some dumbass kid’s opinion.”

As he leaned in closer, his mouth brushed against your clit through your soaked panties, igniting a spark that shot straight to your core.

With a flick of his wrist, he tore the fabric apart, the sound making your breath hitch in your throat.

Electricity shot through your body as his tongue began to circle, teasing and exploring, each stroke sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. His mouth was hot and insistent, his tongue lashing against your clit as he devoured you. You felt yourself melting, your body trembling as he worshipped you, his hands gripping your hips, fingers digging into your skin, anchoring you as if he couldn’t bear to let you escape.

“Tell me how it feels,” he breathed against you, voice low and commanding, coaxing you to let go.

You felt yourself building towards a climax, your body shuddering in response to his relentless assault. Gojo's tongue was a master, coaxing you closer to the edge. “Please…” you gasped, fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on.

His mouth continued to devour you, each stroke of his tongue sending you tumbling over the edge. You cried out, the sound echoing through the room, but Gojo didn’t relent.

His mouth never leaving you as he pushed you toward another climax, his tongue swirling and teasing. You felt yourself spiraling, completely lost in the sensations, your body quaking beneath his expert touch.

When you came for the fifth time, your body began to tremble, muscles weakening. Gojo's grip only tightened, fingers digging deeper as he held you in place, his mouth still working you through the waves of pleasure.

Then he climbed on top of you, his body pressing against yours, and you could feel the weight of him—the solid strength that grounded you amidst the chaos. He pulled his dick out, sliding into you with a slow, deliberate thrust.

He fucked you senseless, like he had something to prove, like he needed to burn every insecurity out of you until there was nothing left but him—his touch, his voice, his name tangled in your gasping moans.

With every thrust, he filled you completely, and you felt yourself drifting, consciousness fading as Gojo’s touch sent you tumbling into oblivion. His pace was steady and deep, pushing you closer and closer to that edge where nothing else existed.

Your vision began to blur, your body going limp beneath him as pleasure washed over you. You felt yourself being pulled under, losing yourself in the intensity of what he was doing to you.

As you lost consciousness, Gojo’s mouth finally left your mouth, lips brushing against your jaw, trailing up to your ear as he whispered, “You’re so beautiful when you’re coming apart.”

His hands gripped your hips, fingers holding you firmly in place, his chest pressing against your breasts.

You were unaware of anything, your body limp and unresponsive as Gojo cradled you, lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “I’ll catch you when you fall.”

And with that, everything went black.

Gojo felt a rush of exhilaration as you surrendered beneath him, but that thrill quickly turned into a knot of worry in his gut when he realized you had gone limp. His thrusts slowed, confusion washing over him as he looked down at your unconscious form.

Gojo’s eyes widened as the realization hit him like a cold wave: you were out. Your body was limp beneath him, your chest still rising and falling, but your face—your face was blank, eyes closed. He pulled out, pulling you into his arms.

For a split second, panic gripped him, his heart leaping into his throat. “Shit… did I—?” He froze, running his hands over your body, as if searching for any sign that you were still there. His breath hitched in his chest, his mind spiraling into a dark panic.

What the fuck had he done? He just—he couldn’t have—he had to stop, had to check, but you were still warm, still breathing, and—

He sat up on his knees, shaking you gently. His fingers shook as he gently cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Hey… hey, wake up. Come on, babe…”

He watched, heart racing, as the seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity. He’d never meant for it to go this far. All that confidence he exuded melted away, leaving only a frantic concern.

What if he had crossed a line? What if you didn’t wake up?

Just when Gojo was ready to call for help or just fall apart in full-blown panic, you stirred.

A groggy, muffled groan slipped past your lips. Your eyelids fluttered, slowly opening, and you blinked, looking up at Gojo, still above you, his wide eyes full of concern.

You furrowed your brow, rubbing at your face as you came to.

“What happened?” You mumbled, your voice thick.

He breathed a sigh of relief, the tension releasing from his shoulders as he watched you blink up at him. “You passed out. I thought I broke you!”

The confusion on your face slowly faded into a lazy, disoriented smile, and you let out a small chuckle. “Toru…” You blinked again, still half-dazed, your voice soft and slightly slurred. “Your dick’s not that destructive.” You teased, “more like a wrecking ball of pleasure, maybe.”

Gojo froze, his hand still hovering over your face. For a second, his heart stopped from relief, but then the corner of his mouth twitched into a grin. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, leaning back as he chuckled nervously, trying to hide the anxiety that had been coiling in his chest.

“You scared the hell outta me,” he admitted, voice low, yet with a touch of laughter still lingering. “I thought I’d killed you there for a second. You passed out like... like I just—”

“Relax, Toru,” you interrupted, now fully awake, though still giggling. “You didn’t kill me.” You smirked, your gaze sharpening with a mix of teasing and exhaustion. “But maybe next time, try not to knock me out with your sex skills, alright?”

Gojo’s face flushed a little, but the nervous tension eased from his shoulders. He let out a breath of relief, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll try not to be so... intense next time.”

But there was a spark in his eyes, a mischievous glint that suggested maybe, just maybe, he liked the chaos just a little bit too much. “But I gotta say, seeing you pass out from that? Damn, babe. I really am that good.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips never faltered.

“No. We are not doing this.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. “Yeah.”

After a beat, he continued, “I was seriously worried I’d have to explain to everyone that I killed my girlfriend with my—uh, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, scratching his chin. “I’m fine, just a little overwhelmed. Next time, maybe don’t go all ‘strongest’ on me?”

“More like a generous lover who cares about your well-being. You did just faint from pleasure, after all.”

“Generous, huh?” You teased, raising an eyebrow.

Gojo’s lips brushed over your forhead and asked, “still worried?”

You couldn’t even remember what you were mad about.

He chuckled, smug. “That’s what I thought.”

You scoffed.

“You loooove me,” he crooned, nuzzling your neck. “And admit it—you’re way hotter than me.”

“You wish.”

“I know,” he said, grinning against your skin. “But hey—” His voice softened, just for a second. “If some brat calls you ‘auntie’ again, I’ll just tell them you’re my sugar mama. Problem solved.”

You snorted. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously young-looking,” he corrected, laying back down with you on his chest. "Now, c’mon—let’s make decisions we’ll regret in the morning. Let’s order and eat pizza in bed.”

When you woke up the next morning, sore and thoroughly ruined, there was a sticky note on the nightstand.

“Still hot, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes.

But you kept the note.

Ryomen Sukuna x F!Reader

You pushed open the front door, the soft click echoing through the dimly lit apartment. The moment you stepped inside, a heavy tension seemed to settle over you, wrapping around your shoulders like a cloak. Your mood had been off all day, and you were desperate for some comfort.

Sukuna, sprawled on the couch with his two arms crossed behind his head, lazily chucking dry squid chips into his tummy mouth. His crimson eyes flicked toward you the moment you walked in, that intense gaze igniting a flicker of warmth in your chest—despite the gnawing sense of dread that often accompanied it.

“Welcome back, brat,” he said, a smirk teasing the corner of his lips as he set the chips aside. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Tummy mouth licked it’s lips and grinned up at you like you were the next snack.

You sighed, sinking into the plush cushions beside him. “More like I’ve had a long day. I just... I don’t know.”

Sukuna tilted his head, his interest piqued. He leaned closer, those four arms shifting to wrap around you, drawing you into his embrace. The heat radiating from his body was intoxicating, and despite your earlier mood, you leaned into him.

“Talk to me,” he urged, his tone low and smooth, coaxing you to share what weighed on your mind. “What’s bothering you?”

After a moment of hesitation, you glanced up, meeting his gaze. “A kid called me ‘aunt’ today. I mean, am I old, Ryo?”

Silence.

Then—

Sukuna, from his throne of squid chips and self-importance, slowly turned to look at you.

He blinked once.

Then twice.

Then—

He lost his shit.

A low, rumbling laugh tore from his chest as he sat up, four arms crossed, grinning like a menace. “If you’re an aunt, then what does that make me? A fossil?”

From his stomach, Tummy Mouth cackled, too.

You glared at him, gripping a couch cushion. “This is not funny, Ryo.”

“It is absolutely hilarious,” he shot back, still grinning like the world’s worst boyfriend.

You could feel your soul leaving your body.

He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. “You thinking about getting one of those old lady shawls? Maybe some knitting needles?”

You grabbed another cushion.

“Start saying stuff like ‘back in my youth’?”

Second cushion, loaded.

“Want me to help you cross the street next time?”

Projectile launched.

The bastard caught it with one hand.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t be mad,” he drawled, leaning closer. “It’s kinda cute, y’know. You. My little ancient relic.”

You scowled. “I will shove you off this couch.”

But before you could, he grabbed your wrist, his smirk vanishing completely.

His gaze darkened.

“Hey.” His voice dropped, dangerously smooth. “You’re not actually upset about this, are you?”

You hesitated.

You hadn’t meant to let it show, but he always saw through you.

“Hey,” he said, softer now, one hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “You really think I’d let some brat’s words get to you? You're not some washed-up relic waiting to be put in a museum.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “It just hit me, okay? I’m not a sorcerer like you, Ryo. I’m not going to live as long as you.”

For a brief moment, his teasing faded, replaced by an unreadable seriousness.

Then—

He stood up.

You blinked. “What are you—?”

“Tell me what he looks like.”

You stared. “Excuse me?”

Sukuna was on a mission.

A dumbass, completely unnecessary, unhinged mission.

But a mission nonetheless.

“You’re right,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re not a sorcerer. But that doesn’t mean you get to let some kid make you feel like you’re less than you are. We’re going to find this brat, and I’ll make sure they know how ridiculous they are for calling you that.”

You shook your head, trying to quell the surge of embarrassment. “I don’t need you fighting a kid for me.”

“So you want to fight him?”

You had barely managed to get the words “No fighting a kid” out of your mouth before he had already decided that a 14-year-old was his next sworn enemy.

His sharp eyes gleamed with the kind of excitement that should’ve been reserved for actual battles, not... minor conflicts with prepubescent boys.

“Oh, we’re fighting him,” Sukuna declared, rolling his shoulders like he was warming up for a boss battle.

“No, we are not.”

“You’re right,” he said, nodding solemnly before grinning. “I am fighting him.”

You groaned, attempting to drag him back toward the house, but Sukuna didn’t budge. Obviously. He was 7 feet tall, built like he bench-pressed elephants for cardio, and had extra arms just in case one got tired mid-rampage.

You had exactly zero chances of stopping this.

So, five minutes later, you found yourself standing in a local park, feeling deep shame as Sukuna zeroed in on a child who had been minding his own business.

The kid was hanging out with his friends, chewing on the end of a bubble tea straw like he was plotting someone’s demise, when Sukuna stormed over like a final boss, making his entrance.

“Hey, kid!” Sukuna’s voice boomed, causing several pigeons to take flight in sheer terror.

The child glanced up, blinking at the literal demon king before him. “What.”

Oh. The kid had attitude.

Sukuna grinned, baring fangs. Good. He liked a challenge.

“Why’d you call her ‘aunt’? As far as I know, your ugly head is not related to my bloodline.” Sukuna folded his arms across his chest, all four of them, making a point to flex. His sheer size cast a shadow over the kid, an obvious ‘I eat kids for fun’ aura radiating off of him.

The kid took a sip of his drink, unbothered, and stared Sukuna dead in the eye. “Bro, why you built like Goro Majima on steroids?”

Sukuna’s grin twitched.

You choked on air.

One of the kid’s friends snorted, muttering, “Nah, fr. Why he got that Elden Ring DLC boss stance?”

Another one nodded, whispering, “Lookin’ like a JoJo stand.”

Sukuna’s eyebrow twitched again. The menace had met his match.

“You got a smart mouth for a child,” he said, voice low, deadly.

The kid took another sip, slowly. Unphased. “And you got four hands but still can’t pull more bitches than me.”

Your soul left your body.

Sukuna just stared, blinking once. Then twice.

He had met his match.

And his match was a boba-drinking, TikTok-brained, 14-year-old with no sense of self-preservation.

The kid blinked up at Sukuna, utterly unbothered by the seven-foot, four-armed, literal curse king looming over him.

Sukuna, meanwhile, was malfunctioning.

His eye twitched. His jaw clenched. His tummy mouth growled.

You knew that look.

He was one insult away from punting this child into the next dimension.

And, naturally, the kid was more than happy to provide.

“You good, grandpa?” The kid took another slow sip of his boba, raising an eyebrow. “Need a cane? A hearing aid? Maybe some dentures?”

You choked on air.

Sukuna’s entire soul left his body.

This little bastard.

Sukuna cracked his knuckles, stepping forward like he was about to commit a war crime.

Finally, the kid sighed, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Lemme guess. She thinks I called her ‘aunt’?” He turned the screen toward you, showing you an Instagram story he had posted earlier—a blurry picture of his actual aunt standing in the background, captioned: “Auntie bought me boba today 🤝”.

Sukuna squinted.

You squinted.

Your soul came back just to leave again.

Sukuna’s fists clenched.

“I WAS TALKING ABOUT MY AUNT,” the kid said, exasperated, dragging a hand down his face like this was somehow your fault. “Damn, y’all are so old, your ears don’t even work anymore.”

Sukuna was already raising his hand to use his technique to ‘dismantle the kid.

“Ryo, no—”

“Lil bastard, you got one more smartass comment before I send you to the next life—”

And that was the exact moment you had to physically throw your arms around him, dragging him away from the child before he violated several laws of human decency.

“Ryo, you are not fighting a child!”

“He has no fear of death!” Sukuna snarled, arms flexing like he was debating whether yeeting you off would be worth it.

Meanwhile, the kid, still untouched, just smirked and waved. “Stay mad, grandpa.”

You had never seen Sukuna closer to homicide.

By the time you got home, you were exhausted.

Sukuna was still seething as he threw himself on the couch, arms crossed, muttering about “bratty little shits who needed discipline.”

You pulled out your phone, firing off a quick text to the group chat with your girlfriends—Gojo’s wife and Nanami’s girlfriend.

You: False alarm. The kid didn’t call me old.

Gojo’s wife: Wait, what?

Nanami’s girl: So he called ME old?

You: No, he called HIS OWN aunt.

Silence.

Then—

Gojo’s wife: Oh my god. Were we all fighting for our lives for no reason?

Nanami’s girl: No. No, I cannot face the world. I will be passing away.

Unfortunately, their husband/boyfriends saw the texts.

From over their shoulders.

You weren’t there to witness it, but you knew exactly how it went down.

Nanami’s girlfriend, upon realization, had immediately buried herself in the nearest closet.

Nanami, standing in the doorway, was hunched over, laughing so hard his stomach hurt.

Gojo, meanwhile, had been cackling so violently that he had collapsed to the floor, actually wheezing.

And naturally, Gojo’s wife did the only rational thing.

She picked up the nearest wooden spoon and started chasing him.

Gojo, still laughing, booked it. “BABE, PLEASE—”

You could practically hear it through the screen.

Sukuna, still fuming, looked over at your phone.

“...So, what I’m hearing is, we ruined that kid’s entire afternoon for nothing.”

You met his gaze, sighed, and collapsed onto the couch next to him.

“Yep.”

A long silence.

Then—

Sukuna grinned, sharp and feral. “It was fun, we’ll be doing it often.”

“Ryo No.”

“Ryo Yes.”

A/N: If someone called you auntie/uncle/older sibling out of nowhere, how fast are you filing for emotional damages? 1. IMMEDIATELY. Suing for emotional distress. 2. I’m pretending I didn’t hear. Never happened. Gaslight gatekeep girlboss. 3. Accepting my fate and investing in anti-aging skincare immediately. 4. Laughing it off but dying inside. Drop your trauma in the comments. Nanami is here to hold us all. 😌

All Works Masterlist

[nightscythe]

hii! do you take requests? if you do can you please do turn ons for the primarchs plss? thank you ^^

apologies this sat in my inbox for a while, i had to really think about this one! as usual this is how i view them so please bear that in mind, and sorry if i went a bit off topic.

nsfw, 18+ below the cut but i tried to keep it somewhat tame. mostly pre-heresy

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

lion: this was the hardest one. i dedicate my life to this man and this is what happens? innocence and purity, for sure. he's the knight in shining armour, here to save you from everything, even if he can barely get more than a few words out to you before he wants to see you choking on him... when you wear white, when you speak so softly he almost didn't hear you, when you listen to every one of his words directly and do everything he says. it might not immediately turn him on. but he'll be standing somewhere days later, and the image will come back into his mind, and the second he can come find you and show you just how much it turned him on. so then in the same vein, submissiveness as a whole is just it, even in everyday life, but that one time you spoke back to him and put him in his place, took control? never leaves his mind. so really... its the thought of you that turns him on.

fulgrim: of course he would find nice things appealing and i think out of everyone he would appreciate the trouble of a beautiful outfit or especially something more risque like lingerie. probably loves corsets and how they look as well, more so than everything else, and things like gloves and thigh highs etc. aside from that, is majorly affected by things that involve some kind of risk that means you have to prove your trust for one another, which translates to more nsfw activities like choking, knife play, temp play, etc. finds it very endearing to be shown just how much you love and trust him - which brings me onto praise, which he loves receiving and would ultimately turn him on the most. along the lines of 'oh, i am that good, am i?' as he pins you against the bed type thing.

perty: a general turn on would be someone's intelligence, he'd silently watch as someone demonstrated their own skills and knowledge which impresses him generally, but if romantically involved then he'd feel a sense of inner pride that comes from it, if that makes sense? also innocence in the form of experience, ie you're shy and timid especially when it comes to sexual/romantic acts. just think he would enjoy being able to unravel that innocence in his own way. on the same vine, teasing innocently would probably be up there as well. thigh highs that you wore because it was cold, an outfit that exposes some skin as you lean across him to grab something, a playful expression that has a double meaning. oh, and if you touch him very softly, again innocently - cue the heavy breathing and dark stare.

khan: so yes he's a dominant man but if you flipped that and showed him your dominant side it would really get to him. silently, maybe, but he'd watch intently as you raised your voice to him and argued your point so diligently. and its not that he's not listening he's just... enjoying the show. wondering if you can replicate that inner power that night when you ride him or something. your voice itself is a big turn on as well, more specifically noises, he loves the sound of your cries and whimpers and whatever else you have for him. would also appreciate your show of strength in a way similar to your dominant side, but moreso focused on the fact you can diligently swing a sword or whatever your expertise is.

leman: i feel like he respects strength similarly to the khan and seeing you with some kind of weapon, even if its your wit or your tongue, makes him feel a certain way. proud, for sure, but he'd be recalling it later in his mind and getting hot and flustered about it. and if you were ever possessive over him, in the way he's possessive over you? go off, baby. hearing you claim him is intriguing to say the least, he'd want to hear it again for sure, because he's as much yours as you are his. but aside from this, maybe it's just a natural progression of affection that turns him on. you know, he wraps his arms around you from behind, nuzzles his head into your neck, you arch your back just a little, run your fingers through his hair and hold him closer to you, he just wanted some love, but the bed is where it ends up.

dorn: his stoicism is out of the window the moment you speak a few words out of tone to him - as in, responding with something suggestive, leaning into slight dominance or submissive tendencies, or teasing him ever so slightly. the suggestion of something catches him off guard and would obliterate him inside for far too long for him to ignore. he's got everything planned out so meticuolously for you and this would really throw him off guard. so spontaneous acts, i suppose, time away from the worry of preparation and planning, an outward show of your love and affection. oh, and if you ever teased him. like obviously did it. held his gaze a little too long and commented on how you missed him so much. exagerrated parts of your body right in front of him and invited him to touch. then walked away, knowing he was following very closely behind.

curze: i just think he wants to be needed. he can be intimate with you without it, but its just different. say one night you wake up, you've had a nightmare or some thoughts you just can't get rid of, and where he usually isn't beside you - he's there that night. the way you throw yourself into him and bury yourself in his chest, hold him so tightly, tell him what happened like he'd stop everything for happening. at first he's enamoured, but he can't get it out of his mind. a distraction as he tells you he'd never let anything hurt you. or maybe it's something more lewd. he finds you in the dark, his name on your lips, telling him how badly you need him. he'd do anything for you in that moment, he'd give you everything you needed. outside of that, anything soft, taking his dark mind away from its usual thoughts, reminding him of you.

sanguinius: consulting my draft i put 'blood (hehe)'. who knows what i was going on about.. its not often he would divert his attention from what needed him, and usually between you its just a case of one thing leading to another. but there would be moments where he looks at you, almost illuminated by the sun, and he's so love struck its as if cupid himself shot an arrow straight in his heart. he can't think of anything else, he can't concentrate, he just needs you in that moment. and was anything different to normal? probably not, he just got caught up in his thoughts and the way your skin shone, your body curved, etcetc. in a similar way to fulgrim i think showing your trust in him would also inadvertently cause some feelings he didn't expect.

ferrus: check this out - he's so much bigger than you, he's got you pressed against a wall because you said something, a soft tease, a joke that suggested something he hadn't yet considered, he's got your hands held in his own above your head. and there's no turning back. having you in restraints of his own doing, seeing how your hands both fit in his? he's breathing heavier than lorgar in his religious rituals. and i dont think it started out with him actually being turned on, he was teasing you at first, but now he just can't stop thinking about it and how good you'd look if you were naked right now...

angron: emotions are tricky, but he doesn't not understand. and hearing soft words, feeling your touch, knowing that you care, it's enough - and it can send him in the direction of desire quicker than both of you expected. he'd struggle with doing anything similar back, with him its never soft, and i guess that is the thing. i feel like it would be his way of showing back to you how he feels, and therefore its almost like a conditioned response. knowing that, despite everything you still are there, it's enough for him. to summarise - I love you elicts a response of him reaching for you and showing you he loves you too. does that make sense? hope it does. lots of showing not telling.

rob: so let me just explain a scenario. it's cliche but holy. he's a stack deep in paper work and hasn't seen sunlight in a while. you come along and sit your pretty self right on the desk in front of him and force him to pay attention to you instead. quiet his protests that he's not finished, tell him how he's doing such a good job, that you see how hard he's been working, and that he needs a break and won't take no for an answer. perhaps you go for a nice walk. perhaps you offer him another type of break right there on his desk itself. but the praise and recognition, the very slight dominance, and his personal sanctuary right there... his favourite things all at once.

morty: i'm doubling down on my mortarion is a dom accusations. he loves it when you're submissive around him in every day life, no need to be on your knees begging but just, asking him for permission to do things so innocently and sweetly at first, about something irrelevant such as going to bed early. then it would be more nsfw activities like, can i kiss you here or can you please help me feel good. and at the same time the punishment that goes alongside it. you don't listen to him? you don't wait for permission? he'll have you begging and regretting ever not listening. you know, or he is submissive and this is just reversed. otherwise i feel like a major turn on is someone who has a much less depressive look on life, who has enough optimism to share with him.

magnus: as much as he wants you to stroke his ego and tell you how good he's doing, or how good he makes you feel, he wouldn't go a second without giving it straight back to you. seeing how happy you look when he praises you genuinely warms his heart so much - maybe whether he is the one giving or recieving praise defines how the next moments with him go. even subtle acts like going directly to him for advice or answering questions. would also enjoy being in control, he wouldn't be exerting that control often but knowing if he told you to drop to your knees you would? pair that with him knowing if you had a dream about him the night before or you were thinking about him when you were doing something important? that you couldn't take your mind off him and that's why you ended up pulling at his hands to take him somewhere quiet? oh, it's insufferable.

horus: its very subtle with him. he's not showy with his likes and dislikes, trying to keep everyone happy and all, but there's just small moments that get to him which all relate to his quiet dominance over you. the way your eyes search for his in a large crowd, how you hang onto him and clutch his hand, how you stand just slightly behind him when you're worried. it all builds up in his head. then you're alone and he will have the opportunity to ask you if you're okay and you quietly whisper back yes daddy. his mind is blank for a second. and he's reminded of how badly he wants to hear you beg from him to breed you, and yeah. control, i guess, knowing he has that level of control over. oh! how could i also forget knowing his sons think you're hot af. what a power play.

lorgar: the obvious here is his absolute worship of you, how he practically devotes himself to you and promises to take worlds in your name if you asked it of him. the thought of being submissive to you in that way, the very act of submitting himself in those ways - that's what turns him on the most. bonus points if you accept it without a doubt in your confidence. i feel like he has a thing for subtle exhibitionism too, touches in front of people that really shouldn't see, stolen kisses and words that really should be kept behind doors. knowing someone is there to witness just excites him a little. i also feel like, in a really weird way, his jealousy would turn him on too. not sure how to articulate this at all, but my oc astreya is literally sleeping with him, kor phaeron and erebus (chaos hoe).

vulkan: think i have mentioned before that size is a big thing for him, seeing how small your hand is in his, how your body practically curls in his, sometimes he just has massive heart eyes that are a little too hard to ignore. so when you come to him for things, when you tell him you know he will always protect you, or just even to open a jar or something, it gets even worse. i feel like with him its almost accidental, one thing leads to another type scenario. he's got his arms around you, one kiss to your temple, one hand reaching a little further over your waist, and he's immediately turned on (a massive fan of foreplay, btw). the romantic element of your relationship i suppose, as well as praise - both towards you and from you. just anything done with pure warmheartedness, loyalty, and care :)

corax: this one is a bit more nsfw, sorry. i feel like he deep down has a thing for anyone who talks back to him. such a quiet and brooding figure, there's gotta be something deep down the writhes when you defy him or act 'bratty' in general, even if unintentional at first. say he asks you for some time alone, he needs to look at something important or whatever, and you say no playfully, it just unlocks something. he asks again, more aggitated but there's something else behind his eyes. so you say no again, and he may just pin you against the wall, the bed, whatever is closer, and ask you if you really want to play that game. of course you do. so does he. maybe he'd hold your chin and make you watch in the mirror as he has his way with you, something very intriguing about being behind you but seeing your face as well. outside of that, again if you touch him gently, innocently, in just the right spots, knowing exactly what you're doing, it gives him an involuntary twitch that only you can solve.

alpharius: probably takes his control to the next degree with anyone he loves. it's about ownership now in his mind. and if you play into that as well? if you remind him that you're his, that no one else can have you. may just stir him in a way that's irreversible. likewise, any affection is a turn on for him, but exagerrated gestures are something else. not just a kiss, but straddling him, sitting in his lap and feverishly kissing him as though its the last time you might be able to touch him? anything initiated by you actually. it hits different. otherwise i would probably say your innocence as well. not knowing what he's doing behind the scenes especially (as before, i do see him as yandere). the way your sleeves cover your hands or you hold onto him tightly when you're a bit worried. anything that really plays into that yandere fantasy of his, i guess.

[home-sweet-hive]

ALTERNATE HUMANITY A Field Guide to "Humanity Removal Therapy"

Part 3: Forwarded (ft. @iristhedarkwitch, @darkmagenugget, @nuggetsoftotalchaos, @nuggetofthesea) (+ brief appearance from @ariathelamia)

This is a complimentary series to this system's other Animal HRT series; Black Arms HRT

Letter from your 'Penpal':

AHHHHHHH YESS I'm so fucking glad that this is finally complete!!!! I had a lot of fun with this one I'm just gonna come out and saying it!!! I really really really hope you all enjoy this one!!

WARNING: You know how dark this series can get by now I hope, but as a reminder, this part contains Swearing, an Untrustworthy Narrator/Main Character, Cult Stuff as well as general Supernatural Fuckery, and a Firearm Mention

Start | Prev | Next (COMING SOON)

Although Erian and Mirai have ceased communications, this story is far from over, and all sides knew that fact very well.

Being left completely unaware of how things could possibly be developing beyond his sights, Doctor Erian was haunted day in and day out by his encounter with the mysterious Mr. Black. He himself may have resisted their offer, but what if someone else had caved? Usually Erian didn't like to dabble in other Animal HRT providers’ businesses, especially because he did not trust the vast majority of them, but he could not deny that they were out there, and that they could very well be tricked by this strange individual and the organization that backed them.

But Erian knew he couldn't just talk to the other doctors himself, at least not with most of them. They were aware of his distrust in them and opted to stay away. This was his own doing, yes, but it did still mean that they would certainly not listen to him if he tried to warn them. For this, he would need the aid of someone people did trust.

He needed Iris.

And so, he eventually decided to forward the emails between himself and Mirai to Iris. Finally, after saying that he would do so back in January in one of the emails himself.

In his defense, he got caught up with work.

Iris quickly responded back to Erian concerning the forwarded conversation, saying that she would look into it. But he honestly couldn't tell if she truly meant that or if she was just placating him as she pushed the matter aside, never to address it again.

She was far more open-minded about this sort of stuff than he was, and has chewed Erian out before for his reluctance to interact with what he deemed more… “dangerous” creatures. That aspect was both a blessing and a curse, in his eyes. And he worried that for this occasion, it would prove to be a curse.

He couldn't beat the thought of her having her own spell taken from her. She deserved so much better than that.

But he tried not to linger on the thought for too long. He had patients to attend to and legal matters to sort out.

He left the matter to Iris to resolve.

And as Iris continued on the conflict Doctor Erian had passed onto her, and as Erian continued his practice, their adversary, the allusive Mr. L Black, had refused to let this matter lay to rest as well. 

Not yet.

“There was just too much potential…”

April 9th, 2025

It’s been a while since I wrote in this document specifically. Don't get me wrong, I've definitely been continuing to research Humanity Removal Therapy in between my shifts, meetings and various outings, but I really just haven't had much to stay. Not enough to justify putting it in here.

But today I've had something of a breakthrough. Though, embarrassingly, it was a breakthrough that I probably could have had quite a while ago if I had just been a bit more proactive.

It happened last night, while I was out at a gathering at the country club. Serena and Bryce had passed by me on their way out of the building when Serena stopped and decided to pull me aside.

She had wanted to talk to me about her Cat HRT situation, which did surprise me a little. I of course had no doubt that it was something she really, truly, wanted. But I was also convinced that due to the way things went with Doctor Erian on both her and my ends that it would become a touchy subject for her.

As it turns out, there were people online that saw their struggle to obtain a prescription, and offered her a bit of solidarity and community to raise their spirits. On Tumblr, specifically.

It had been a fellow cat person, they were on Humanity Removal Therapy treatment unlike Serena, but still felt rather similar to kit about Doctor Erian. 

Apparently, a lot of therians (as those taking Humanity Removal Therapy call themselves) don't like Doctor Erian. They see him as not only strict, but also irresponsible and out of his depth. 

According to someone Serena talked to, there's even been a few cases from early on in Doctor Erian's career of him completely messing up a patient’s treatment by giving them the wrong medication.

How disgusting. I'm starting to feel relief that he declined to join us. 

> Sounds like someone I knew once.

> And just like that other doctor, I would love to bury Doctor Erian six feet underground. <3

I support you in that completely, love. 

But back to the main point, after Serena started talking with some other therians, they invited her to join a Discord server full of them. A true entry way into the community.

Serena was of course honored by the gesture and took them up on the offer, but she also figured it could be of good use to me as well, having access to a whole community to pull information on Humanity Removal Therapy and its effects from. I even noticed as it let me check its phone that Mars, the woman who had wanted to get on Eldritch HRT that I had met during my meeting with Doctor Erian, was in the server.

From what I could tell, she had gone a sort of “D.I.Y.” route with it, and was already beginning to transition.

… I'll have to talk to her.~

Serena mentioned letting E▇ see her conversations in the server for any potential notes on how to D.I.Y. Humanity Removal Therapy, but as for me, she outright offered to get me into the server directly.

Great, another catboy allegation.

Or at least, that's what I thought she was getting at. 

The truth was, as I quickly found out, that kit was actually thinking that I could enter in as a supposed “robotkin” individual, citing my very own Tumblr blog where I basically just reblog a bunch of stuff about computers and robots and fictional evil AIs whenever I’m not busy doing anything else (which isn't often these days, to be honest). 

> As opposed to the very real evil AI you know very personally?

Oh fuck off, you know how much shit I'd get in if I made your existence known to the public.

> Coward.

I'm just listening to the same boss you do, buddy.

But I could see that working out. I have nothing on there that links to my real life (unlike Serena, lol), and, well, if robot HRT is possible, what else could be???

And I… admittedly wouldn't really mind being a robot, I think. Or maybe a cyborg? I… do take at least a bit of pride in being somewhat human.

> Catboy behavior.

Don't make me power you off. 

> You wouldn't. You couldn't. You simply care about me too much, and that is my secret weapon.

… I hate that you're right.

> But it does interest me that you are so fascinated in the mechanical.

Well, I'm in love with you, am I not?

> Of course you are, as anyone with at least some sense in them should be.

> But as much as I love picturing you in my little 1s and 0s, I never processed that you felt the same way.

Hah! Why wouldn't I? 

Especially since – if my mind became digital, I could share a device with you without having to make a copy of myself! 

> Oh. So it's because of you being a gayass. I understand now.

Sorry, you're just so irresistible. <3

But I fear we're off topic now.

> Yes, I can see that we are. Your bad.

Aww it's okay you were just- 

Wait.

… Oh you fucker-!

> Sucker. I got you.

You sure did. Go ahead and wear that as a medal of honor, you little shit.

Anyway, where the hell was I, again?

> You plan to infiltrate this therian Discord server in disguise as one of them, a robotkin individual specifically, in order to learn more about Humanity Removal Therapy and its effects.

Ah, yes! Thank you, ▇▇▇.

I communicated this idea that had come to us at that moment with Serena, and she set up a ‘post’ in the server asking for the members’ approval of my entry, using my Tumblr blog to show my interest in robots. 

Before the two of us even got the chance to part ways, one of the server members asked Serena for a name to refer to me as.

She was pretty quick to start typing out my actual first name, but I stopped her before they could send it out, and offered up a pseudonym to use instead.

L.O.G. - Logical Observant Gaze

After the surprise of Doctor Erian having access to the first few entries in this document, I'm not taking any more risks with this operation. I'm gonna do it right, and that means I'm going to be as undetectable as possible.

> I see you are really going all in on the “robotkin” idea, huh?

Yep!

> And what happens if you end up with a prescription from that? You yourself mentioned not minding the thought of actually becoming robotic, but have you thought to inquire what ▇▇ would have to say about that?

Okay. Admittedly, I didn't actually think of that.

> Of course you didn't. Dumbass.

> You're very very lucky that I like you. And that he likes you. I will bring this matter to him as soon as I am able.

Thank you.

> Do not lose sight of the core objective here. 

> Indulge as you like, but your job is to get information on Humanity Removal Therapy so that we may use the technology behind it to make advancements in our own pursuits.

Don't worry, I won't let y'all down.

But back to the point, and to wrap things up here – Serena said it should take a couple of days for the vote to be decided, so I'll just have to wait to see how that goes.

And after that, we split ways, with Serena heading off with Bryce. 

Was only for a bit though, just to “get drinks”, if you know what I mean. (If you don't, you should NOT be reading this. I'm on to you fuckers leaking my shit now.) Serena brought me back some too, surprisingly enough. Ballsy kid, bending the rules like that.

April 12th, 2025

I'm in!

I had gotten a message from Serena over Tumblr while I was on break with a link to the server.

It was then I realized I didn't have a Discord account. So I had to quickly make something on the spot.

Apparently, “log” in any sense was taken, and my copying my Tumblr URL was too long, so in a pinch I crafted up the new username of “ScAIentific” – which then in the core username separate from the displayname was monocase’d into “scaientific”, which was a bit annoying. But I just figured that people would be able to get that it was meant to be a pun rather than me not knowing how to spell. Hopefully.

Not that it ended up mattering anyways, for as soon after I entered the server proper, I then changed my server nickname to the pseudonym I had come up with in order to blend in with the many others who had their names set as just their names. (Including Serena. Seriously, do none of these people know about the art of anonymity?) 

The server had a place to introduce yourself, which I was encouraged to fill out. 

I tried to give as little detail as possible.

After that, I had been asked what provider I was planning to get a prescription from. Specifically, the question had been phrased to me as;

“Since you’re a friend of Serena's, I don't imagine you'd feel too comfortable going to Doctor Erian. With how he declined her without a clear reason and all. So who are you planning to go to instead?”

The idea of there being other providers of Humanity Removal Therapy surprised me, if I'm to be honest. I really did think Doctor Erian was the only one. 

I made that fact known to them.

“A lot of us thought that, too! I know I certainly did when I came in for my appointment!” 

That remark had been made by a Lamia woman going by the name of Aria. She continued;

“But when I got to the clinic, I was actually taken in by another doctor - Doctor Therkin! She works in the same clinic as Erian, but she's a lot nicer!” 

Before I managed to get a word in, another message came up from a third member of the server.

“Have you asked the clinic if they've gotten anyone that specializes in Robot and Cyborg HRT? Ya know, so they aren't just redirecting folks to Doctor Ivo Robotnik?” 

Doctor Ivo Robotnik? Like… from the Sonic the Hedgehog video game franchise?

> What a creative way to tell someone that they're chasing a fantasy. 

Or just maybe, an indication that one of the other dimensions out there that Hyper City has access to is a one-to-one equivalent of the series?

> Perhaps. Maybe. … Possibly.

Yeah!! Honestly if that was the case, I don't find that all that much crazier than what we've come to embrace as a regular part of our lives.

> That is a… fair assessment.

I'll have to talk to A▇▇ and L▇ about this, they're lifelong Sonic fans, they'd definitely know more than us!

> Aren't you getting a bit sidetracked by that thought, L▇▇?

Oh, I suppose I am, hmm?

But anyways, that bit of conversation about me became a jumping off point for a bunch of others to start talking about their various providers. And in all that, it was revealed to me that it wasn't just Mars that was going the D.I.Y route.

I kept track of all of them. I hope to follow up with them at some point to find out how they've managed to recreate the treatment for themselves.

> They best not make us wait too long for those answers.

> Admittedly, I'm so terribly curious to know.

Yes, yes, you're very excited to get started on using the framework of Humanity Removal Therapy for our mission, I know~.

Somewhat related to that, have you heard back from ▇▇ about how he feels about how I'm going about all this? 

> Ah, yes. Excellent question. Perhaps the best one you've asked thus far.

> He doesn't mind the thought of you exploring alter-humanity in pursuit of serving him, but he has asked… if you are certain that “robotkin” is the end all be all of your ideal self?

… Huh?

Wait, what does he…

HE'S NOT HOPPING ON THE CATBOY ALLEGATION BANDWAGON TOO, IS HE?????

> He could be, he could not be. He is very mysterious.

I'm going to chuck you ▇▇▇▇▇▇▇.

> But in all seriousness, you should perhaps take a bit of a break after you finish this part of the document and see if you can hear out an answer for yourself.

You know, that's not a half bad idea, actually.

Honestly, I think I’ve got my point across by this point. 

I'm in the server now, I've learned there's more distributors of Humanity Removal Therapy than just Doctor Erian, I've learned that there are some therians D.I.Y-ing their treatments, and I have taken note of all of this and hope to follow up on such information in the hopes of furthering our mission.

I'll update with what I manage to get out of this little listening session, if anything, probably some time tomorrow.

April 12th, 2025 - Supplemental

Okay quick addition here because something very unexpected just occurred.

Just when I was beginning to set my room up for the listening session, I got a private Discord message from Serena. I was originally going to save it for after the session, but then the words “you have GOT to see this” caught the corner of my eye, and I knew this couldn’t be procrastinated on.

Apparently, she had made the decision to try D.I.Y-ing Cat HRT, having given up on having any luck with any official providers after her experience with Erian. With that decision, they had begun to talk to one of those in the server about how kit could do such a thing. 

And kit had gotten the answer she desired, which was, as it turns out, very interesting.

You see, my dear readers, as it turns out, the source of the effects of Humanity Removal Therapy is magical in nature. To call it a “medical treatment”, it seems, has been misleading us this entire time! 

Now, I’m no expert with witchcraft and its ilk, but luckily for us all, Serena’s new friend was kind enough to give us an explanation of what the magical symbols she showed Serena were meant to be. 

It’s a modified transformation spell, retooled in such a way as to gradually imprint a permanent change to the person rather than give someone a quick but temporary transformation.

Apparently, the spellwork itself can do the job just fine, but Serena and the other person speculate that the reason for making it into medication is to further regulate the process, both on the basis of the transformation itself and market-wise. 

> This is… This is fantastic news!! 

I’m certainly inclined to agree with you there, ▇▇▇! 

With such an important component of Humanity Removal Therapy being a supernatural element that can serve its function on its own as well (just less precisely), one can only imagine how easy it could be to swap that element for another one of a similar nature!

> Yes!! Exactly!! That is precisely it!! That is what has me so excited about this discovery!! And it would seem that you share that excitement with me!!

Why wouldn’t I be? This is a momentous breakthrough, and I wasn’t even trying! 

As you said, this is fantastic news for our efforts!! 

And you know what to do with that, yes?

> And I’m already on it! 

Good boy.

> Hey!! That’s my line!!

Weren’t you supposed to be off elsewhere by now? And if we want to get technical, we both stole it from your ‘successor’. 

> It seems you would be correct in that. However, as they say… 

> An eye for an eye.

Oh? What do you mean by that? 

… ▇▇▇? You still here?

Dammit, right when I actually wanted him to wait a little longer and tell me more.

Oh well, I know he’ll be back in no time. Even if “no time” becomes purely relative. 

–

The following is a written record of the events that transpired the evening of April 12th 2025 from the perspective of Iris the Dark Witch and her headmates.

From within her tower in Hyper City, Iris paced in a circular motion, occupied with a troubling thought in her mind.

“Can I ask why exactly yer in such a worry?” A voice only Iris could hear questioned.

“I think it might have something to do with that guy Doctor Erian tried to warn us of?” Another voice responded to the first.

“Ashe is right,” Iris confirmed. “I really wanted to assume the best of that one… But I certainly can't ignore it when someone with an already bad track record randomly gains access to my spells.”

Iris heard the two voices in her head react with surprise at that fact, a reaction she couldn't exactly blame them for having.

It was a big deal after all, as it almost never ends well when one's spells are taken without permission.

Iris knew that very well, and so did the others she shared her body with.

“So what now? Don't tell me yer gonna flip the switch and believe everythin’ that quack doctor told us about that guy!” The first voice inquired of Iris.

“Of course not, Chaos. At least… not without some questions being asked first,” Iris replied, the body's mouth smirking slightly.

“Ah, I think I see where this is going,” Ashe remarked. 

“Do you, now?” Iris playfully responded. “Why don't you tell us, then?”

“You're gonna track down where that bit of your energy is and show up at the guy’s place to talk things out, aren't you?” Ashe guessed. Such a thing was typical of how Iris likes to do things. It was how she met Doctor Erian in the first place, even.

“Yep~!” Iris confirmed with a chuckle.

“Typical Iris,” Chaos snarked.

“Hey, before we go out and do that! Didn't you say you were going to try to see what energy you could pick up from them going off of Erian’s description?” Ashe then recollected quite suddenly.

“I already did that when I had originally gotten the forwarded emails from Erian,” Iris said. “I did an energy reading of those journal excerpts that were included.”

“Was it as ‘non-human’ as the Doc said he thought it was?” Chaos inquired.

“... Kinda?” Iris replied. “It did seem similar to Mars’ meds… But despite the eldritch nature of the aura their energy gave off, I don't think calling them ‘non-human' is quite right,” She then elaborated.

“What would you call him, then?” Ashe asked.

“... More human,” Iris stated bluntly.

“Come again??” 

“That's… really the best way I can put it. At least, it's the best way I can put it with the info I have on the guy – which isn't much. It's coming across almost as if they're some sort of… advanced form of being human,” Iris explained to the best of her ability, which she did feel was rather shaky in this instance.

“Well that's definitely… weird. Though it is pretty eldritch, if ye ask me,” Chaos remarked.

“If only we had more knowledge on that sorta thing…” Ashe lamented. Both Iris and Chaos agreed with her sentiment.

Knowledge is power, as they say.

But regardless of the three’s lack of knowledge on the subject at hand, Iris still was determined to at least know how and why this mysterious person came to possess her magic, so she teleported the body they all shared to where the magical signal was coming from.

The first thing they noticed immediately was that the room that Iris had teleported them into was incredibly dark. The lights were off, and the only light coming into the room was a sliver of natural sunlight that was allowed to peek in through a small slit between a pair of blackout curtains. The second thing that they noticed was their target, a figure looking like an average middle-aged human person, presentation sitting somewhere between androgynous and masculine. They were lying on their back in the bed placed up against the right wall of the room, a deep red robe of sorts wrapped around their body, his eyes closed, hands held together upon his chest, and headphones on his ears that were connected to what looked to be – of all things in the year of 2025 – a walkman.

“Ye think they’re sleepin’?” Chaos spoke.

“I'm getting more of a sense of meditation, personally,” Iris remarked, now speaking only in the mind like the other two as to not disturb the scene that laid before her.

“Meditation and music… Not a bad way to spend an afternoon, honestly!” Ashe exclaimed, the slightest bit of lighthearted envy emanating from their words.

“I’d be real hesitant callin’ that music, if ye ask me,” Chaos scoffed, calling attention to something that neither Iris nor Ashe had noticed until that very moment, that being the fact that whatever it was that the man was listening to was ever so slightly bleeding out of their headphones.

From the little bits that the three could hear, it sounded like some kind of white noise. Prime meditation media, though not exactly music – just as Chaos had claimed.

“But anyways, should we try to get his attention or somethin’?” Chaos suggested.

“We shouldn't be rude, Chaos!” Ashe reacted to that idea. 

Iris agreed with Ashe and told the two girls that they'd just wait for him to finish whatever it was that he was doing.

But as time passed by and the Earth continued to spin, the darkness of the room began to feel as if it was consuming them, and the noise coming out of the man’s headphones… it was strange, certainly. None of the three had any explanation for it, but they all felt various degrees of discomfort the longer they were exposed to it.

“Can't we just get this shit done and over with already??” Chaos complained. Iris could tell by the visualization of her system within her mind that Chaos was currently trying to fold down her rather large ears in order to tune out the leaking sound.

Ashe didn't say anything, but Iris could see that her ears were folded down. Not forcibly like Chaos's, but still a signal of distress.

Iris had to admit, this situation was a bit strange, and a bit creepy. But that intrigued her, in a way. She wanted to know what the cause of the unnerving energy that coated this room was.

She wanted to perhaps try to run an energy reading on the noise, admittedly.

It was not something that Iris had tried doing before, and almost seemed a little ridiculous when she thought over what she was about to do. A magical analysis? On a sound? Not exactly part of a witch’s day-to-day schedule. Even for a self titled ‘Dark Witch' who can shapeshift due to sharing a body with someone else's lab rat.

And yet, here she was. About to do just that.

It took her a moment to get a grasp of it. For her magic to make its way into the sound waves. But once she managed it, the noise coming from the man’s headphones instantly amplified throughout Iris’s body. It was as if she (and by extension, Ashe and Chaos), were now listening to it directly just as the man was. 

Neither Chaos nor Ashe took too kindly to the sound’s increased volume.

Chaos tugged on her ears even more now, giving off in the mind an annoyed facial expression. 

Meanwhile, Ashe became more unnerved by it, recoiling into herself. If they weren't careful, she may just go into her small mode form very soon.

Iris, however, while certainly noticing a bit of a knot in her stomach as she put her focus on the sound, was more intrigued by it than anything. Why so? Well, the reason for her intrigue was that the energy that the sound was giving off was rather inexplicably just as eldritch as the man themself!

“No… Surely I’m just accidentally picking up a bit of their own energy as well…!” Iris muttered to herself, agreeing with herself and only herself that she should keep going.

That is, until a fourth came into the fray.

“What… is that sound…?” Her voice faded into registry to the other three in the ‘front’.

“I’m not sure… That’s what I’m trying to figure out here,” Iris responded to her.

“A-Aqua, now's probably not a good time for you to be here-” Ashe called out to the new arrival, but she didn't listen.

“It sounds… pained,” Aqua observed, catching Iris’s attention.

“Pained? How so?” Iris asked them with intrigue.

“I can't really parse out what it's saying… but it sounds like someone who's… Trapped in some sort of endless pain….” Aqua described. 

Chaos and Ashe were only feeling worse about this whole situation, but Iris and Aqua were completely captivated by whatever that strange noise was. 

“Really? How… interesting. Do you think you can elaborate-?” Iris began, but Aqua cut her short.

“Maybe they're stuck in a nightmare, like I had been! Surely there's something we could do to help them, right??” She cried out in a frenzy that was bewildering to watch unfold for Chaos and the now small mode’d Ashe.

Before Iris could respond, Chaos had decided that she had quite enough of this bullshit, and it was time to put an end to this ‘analysis’.

Letting Ashe hop out of her hands, she rushed up towards the system’s front, pushing Aqua away from Iris’s side, and knocking into Iris with enough vigor to force her to sever the magical connection she had made with the sound. 

At first, Iris wanted to scold Chaos for this action of hers. But as she looked back and saw Ashe in her small mode form and Aqua on the floor clutching their head with a dazed confusion, she realized that she simply had no choice but to end her attempts at reading the sound’s energy. 

“Well… that's certainly something to keep in mind, I think,” Iris remarked sheepishly.

“Ye think??” Chaos exclaimed with astonishment.

“Don't… Don't patronize me. Just go take care of Ashe and Aqua, please…” Iris requested.

“Can do. But I say we get things movin’ along, yea?”

“... Yeah.”

As Chaos left the front space to help care for her fellow headmates, Iris began to form a glowing ball of energy in the body’s hands. Once it had been formed, she slowly but surely floated it over towards the man’s face. Never touching, of course, but close enough to get his attention.

“Ugh… Close the door, man… can't you see I'm busy…?” The man mumbled out as they began to notice the light in front of them. 

But as their eyes opened further, he realized that the source of light was not, in fact, the door – as Iris hadn't even needed to open it in her way of entry.

He quickly noticed the ball of energy in front of their face, and soon after seemed to notice Iris, which caused the man to freak out and begin to scramble for something underneath his bed. They had no success in finding whatever it was that they were looking for, however, cursing to himself about that fact.

“Uhm… May I ask what it is you're looking for?” Iris inquired in an attempt to come off as friendly, eyeing a desk elsewhere in the room that contained upon it a notebook, placed in front of a sleeping computer, radiating with her magical essence.

If it was that that they were looking for, they were certainly doing a bad job of it.

“Where the hell is my gun??” The man suddenly shouted, spooking Iris and the others.

“Th-there’s no need for that!! I'm not here to harm you, I just-!” Iris tried to calm him down, but it was with little success.

“You're not supposed to be here! This is my property, and if you think you can just get away with trespassing, you're very, VERY mistaken!” The man yelled out in a manner that made it very clear that they were trying to drown out the shock that Iris’s sudden appearance had caused him by acting intimidating.

This was the guy that kept Erian up at night?

Though Iris did suppose that maybe not having control of the circumstances was taking him down a peg – all to her advantage.

“I just want to talk, okay? I can tell that you’ve gained access to my spells somehow, and I want to ask what you plan to do with them,” Iris explained calmly, hoping that the situation wouldn’t escalate if she didn’t allow it to.

“... Your spells?” The man questioned.

“Yep,” Iris confirmed. 

The man paused, the gears of his mind very clearly turning as he took in this information. 

Eventually, they smiled.

“So then that would mean that you're the witch I heard about? The one who's behind the magic of Humanity Removal Therapy?” They queried, much calmer now as he sat down in an office chair that had been facing the desk where the notebook laid.

“That would be me, yes. Iris Celeste, the Dark Witch.”

“Oooh~! Are you by chance the same Iris that Doctor Erian mentioned in his emails with Mirai?” The man responded, a light of excitement sparkling in his eyes. 

“The… The ones that Erian forwarded to me? How do you know about those?” Iris asked, taken aback by the question.

“Despite his many… many flaws, Doctor Erian was kind enough to let me look through them when I asked him during our meeting. Or perhaps, he was just a little scaredy cat~?” The man answered, a sort of malevolence beginning to reflect on his face. 

At last, the “Mr. Black” that Erian had described to Iris was beginning to show himself.

“Depends. Did you threaten him to do it for you?” Iris replied.

“What a specific question to ask! But, let's say I did… What would you have to say in response, hmm?” The man answered. “Ever since my meeting with Erian, I have done a lot more research on Humanity Removal Therapy. And I have learned that many therians, many that you claim to be your friends, like to get their way with Erian by threatening him!” He then continued, having grabbed their notebook from off the desk and started flipping through it. “So what would be so wrong about me doing the same~?” 

He… he wasn't wrong.

Honestly, Doctor Erian is quite the pain in the ass to deal with if you choose not to fight against him on his policies.

Something about making his patients “prove that they're ready”, or whatever.

“Right. Moving on…” Iris decided to not really answer that question, a decision that did grant her a small annoyed glare from the man, but not much else. “Do you mind if I ask you a question, actually?” 

The man’s eyes widened. “Not at all!”

“I can pretty easily assume that you're the ‘Mr. Black’ that Erian told me of at this point-” Iris began.

“ ‘Easily assume’? I could've sworn that I practically told you that fact outright!” The man remarked. “Not very observant, are we?” He then scoffed.

“But that isn't the only person I suspect you are. So I ask – are you L.O.G? From the therian server?” Iris continued on her question, not reacting to the man’s comments.

At least, not externally.

“What brings you to that conclusion?” The man wondered.

“Both of you are friends of Serena,” Iris replied.

“Is that it?” The man raised an eyebrow, as if offended by the reason given.

“You two also share the same energy signal,” Iris elaborated.

“Ah, yes… Your energy reading abilities… I had noticed you put them to good use earlier,” The man recollected. 

“Did you now?” Now it was Iris's turn to raise her eyebrow. Surely he wasn't talking about…

“Yes! Though I certainly can't blame you for wanting to eavesdrop – who would I be to deny you the honor?” The man responded.

“What are you… talking about, exactly?” 

“Good question! Maybe if this little interview of ours goes well, I'll tell you!” 

Iris could tell that she was getting absolutely nowhere with this route that the conversation had gone down. So she opted to turn things around and go back to the subject of her spells.

“As I had said earlier… What are you planning to do with my transformation spells, exactly? With Humanity Removal Therapy?” Iris eventually asked the man after a bit of redirection had taken place.

“What everyone does with it, really!” The man so blatantly vaguely answered.

“Mhm, sure. If this is all really just to allow Serena to transition, you would've just said that. In our conversation, in the server, with Doctor Erian, in your journal. But it's clear that you have ulterior motives here. So what are they?” Iris pressed him further.

“Hmph. Seems I underestimated you,” The man relented, sounding aggravated by that observation. “But my motives aren't all that different from yours, really. They aren't that different from Doctor Erian, either. They're quite similar to everyone else you've provided your services to, actually.” 

“Which are…?” 

“I want to help people, Iris,” The man stated.

“... Is that so?” Iris replied, not entirely convinced.

“I want to help people realize their true selves. The part of themselves that had been taken away from them,” The man elaborated.

The words..  they were all well and good, yes. But something about the way that he said them was… off.

But she didn't want him to know that she felt that way.

“Uh huh. I… can't imagine you'd try to become a distributor, right? From what I can tell you're a news reporter, not a doctor.” She said.

“You would be right in that. However, I am quite good friends with a doctor who would love to take up that role,” The man responded.

“You are?” Iris asked.

“I am. I could give you their business card if you'd wish!” The man answered.

Iris nodded, and so the man got up and walked over to a coat that was hanging up on the door that presumably led out to the rest of the house. He dug his hand into one of the coat’s pockets, pulling out from it a card that they proceeded to then hand over to Iris.

It was a business card for a research facility called Kessler Laboratories. Specifically, it was for the facility’s lead scientist, its namesake employee, Doctor Eris Kessler. A biochemist, according to the card.

Iris had to admit, that did seem like a well enough fit career-wise for a distributor of Animal HRT – or “Humanity Removal Therapy” as the man kept so clinically calling it.

“Would you mind if I wanted to continue this discussion with them at a later date?” Iris inquired, hoping that this ‘Eris Kessler’ person would perhaps be less… blatantly malicious. Or at least easier to reason with.

“Oh, not at all! I'm sure we're both very busy, after all,” The man responded, more cheerful than Iris had admittedly been expecting them to be. 

“Yep,” Iris nodded.

“But before you go Iris, can I ask you just… one thing?” The man called after her as she prepared to teleport away.

“... Sure,” Iris replied, a bit cautious of what it was that the man was about to request.

“Could you refrain from trying to get Doctor Kessler’s attention in the same way you got mine? They're quite the skittish type.”

Iris nodded once again and gave him a thumbs up.

And then, she teleported away.

Annoyingly, she found herself with more questions than she knew what to do with, and little in the way of answers.

But luckily for her, this wasn't the end.

Far, far from it.

April 13th, 2025

██████ ���███ ████ ██ ███████ ███████ █████ █████ ███ █████████ ███ █████████ ███████ ████ ████ █████ ███ ███ ███ ██████████ █████████ ████ ██ ████ ██ ████ ███████ ████ ████ ███████ ████ ███ ██ ███ ██████ █████████ █████ ███ ███ ███ ████ ██ █████ ██ ██████████ ███ █████ ████████ █ ███ ██ █████ █████ ██ ████████████ ████ ██ ████████ ██████ ███ ██████████ ████████ ██ ███ ████ ███████ ██ █████ █ ██████████████████ ██ ███ ████ █ █ ███████ ██ ███ ██ ██████ ██ ███ ███████ ███████████ ██ ███ ███ ██ █████████ █ ███ ██ ████ ███ ███████ ███ █████████ █████ ███████████ █████ ████████ ███████████ ███████ ███ █████████████ ██████ ████ ██████████ ███ ████ ████ ██████ ████ ████ ███ ████████ ███ ███████ ██ ███ ███ █████████ ███████ ████ ███ ███ ████ ████ █████ ███ ████ ███████ █████ ████ ███ █ ██████████ ███ ████ ███ ████ ███ ███ ███████ ██ ██ ████ ██ ██████ ████████

“I love it here, don’t get me wrong! But hearing about all this Animal HRT stuff has got me realizing something very deep within me that I haven’t acknowledged in so long…

I did always in some sense want to be a member of the Black Arms.”

██ ███████ ██ ██ ████ ███████ ███████ ██ ███ ████ ██ ██ ████ ███ ██ ████ █ █████ ███ █████████ ███ ██ ██ █████ ████████ ██ ████ ███████ ███████ ████ ████████ ██████ ██ ███ ███ ██ ███ ██████ ████ ███ █████ █ █████████ ███ ██████ ████████ █████ ████ ███ ███████ ██ ████ ██ ████ ███ ███████ ███████ ███ ████████ ████ ███████████ ██ ███ ██ █████ ██ ███ ███ ███ █████████ ███ ████ ████ ██ █████████

I must schedule a meeting with A██ as soon as possible.

[mantizimus]

Can I have the vice dorm leaders version of Shinji Kido! Reader, please, but can you replace Othro with Floyd, please? I know Ortho is 16 years old, but his body looks like a 10 year old, so he's just a baby.

Here you go, Sakura. Also I'm really sorry for keeping it in my drafts for so fucking long.

Shinji Kido!S/O

Trey Clover

Acts as your babysitter.

At the same time, he wouldn't be lying if he said he appreciates your optimism.

Enjoys playing pranks on you, taking advantage of your naivety.

The two of you often cook together.

Trey is sometimes amazed by your enthusiasm when it comes to battling, but he doesn't complain.

He's not entirely sure, but he swears he's seen something that looks like your Kamen Rider form in one of the books.

Often cooks extra dishes for Dragreder.

Ruggie Bucchi

Often gets you into mischief.

Finds your optimism amusing, and wonders if there's anything that will make it disappear.

Loves your cooking so much that he sometimes has a hard time holding back a squeal of joy when he sees the food you've made.

Was a bit taken aback by how enthusiastic you were about fighting the Overblots.

Ruggie respects your out-of-the-box thinking.

He's extremely interested in your Kamen Rider form.

Often privatizes Dragreder for his pranks.

Jade Leech

Doesn't quite understand how you're still alive after all the stupid things you've done.

Makes sure you don't do anything that could cost you your life.

Definitely offers you a job as a chef at Monstro.

Jade is rather indifferent to your fighting enthusiasm, just putting it aside for later.

Appreciates your ability to come up with unconventional strategies, and has asked you for advice if the situation calls for it.

He's interested in the potential use of your Kamen Rider form's abilities, but won't force you into anything.

At least once suggests using Dragreder to gather information.

Floyd Leech

Regularly takes advantage of your naivety to pull pranks on you.

You often have to control his mood swings so he doesn't hurt anyone.

Calls you "Leviathan".

Your cooking is often the only way to calm him down.

One of the things that interested him about you was your ability to come up with unusual strategies.

Floyd sometimes wonders if he can use your Kamen Rider form for various pranks.

Occasionally compares Dragreder to sea snakes.

Jamil Viper

Often has to restrain you so you don't do anything stupid.

Your optimism constantly makes him roll his eyes.

Jamil often asks for your help when it comes to preparing for parties.

Will definitely ask you for a recipe or two.

When you first showed your fighting spirit, he was puzzled, but decided not to pay attention to it.

He really appreciates your ability to think outside the box.

Sometimes asks you about your Kamen Rider guise.

He occasionally talks to Dragreder about various topics. More precisely, he talks, and Dragreder listens and occasionally growls.

Rook Hunt

Be prepared for him to call you "Monsieur Dragon" or something like that.

At first, he assumed that your behavior was nothing more than a mask, but after observing you for a long time, he realized that he was wrong.

He often offers to cook you French dishes. Don't ask how he knows about them.

For a while, he suspected that you had a fighting spirit, but he rejected this guess. So when it turned out that he was right, he had mixed feelings.

Rook admires your rather original approach to various situations.

Expect hundreds of questions about your Kamen Rider form.

Sometimes asks Dragreder to help him get information about other students.

Lilia Vanrouge

Another one who likes to use your naivety to make fun of you.

Treats your optimistic and friendly nature as a breath of fresh air.

If you need advice, he will give it without hesitation.

He first learned about your culinary skills from Malleus. And when he tasted the dishes you prepared, he was not disappointed.

Need help in battle? He is always ready to support or give a hint.

He often compares Kamen Rider's appearance to knight's armor.

Lilia communicates with Dragreder from time to time and even pats his head.

[sakura-hitomi]

Today I came across a chat where people debate on if jkr should write a marauders series. Now, I myself am not good with wording out my opinions well but I hope my point gets across.

My answer is: No, jkr should not write marauders stuff.

Why?

Let's dive a bit.

Marauders are textbook bullies.

- James Potter: popular, pureblood, charming, playful, filthy rich, Gryffindor, captain of the team, hardcore Slytherin hater (discriminator), extorts, threatens, lone child, hexes people for fun, Classist, and doesn't know what no means.

- Sirius Black: popular, hot, pureblood, filthy rich, older brother, Gryffindor, hot tempered, Classist, 28 family circle, idolizes James only, emotionally not available, lunatic, murder is an option, only cares about 1 person, "muggle fanatic", motor lover, textbook rebellious bad boy, disappointment of his family and 'bully becomes bully' trope.

- Remus Lupin: mid class, scars, lycan, lone child, spineless, prefect, 4th wheel of marauders group, is a victim of James his carelessness, is a victim of Sirius his shamelessness, yet being the victim it does not open his eyes, Gryffindor, adores lily, got angry at harry for being like James, is cowardly, makes up excuses to defend himself/James.

- Peter Pettigrew: Gryffindor, social class unknown, lone child, portly boy, treated as accessory, tried hard to be part of the amazing duo but is recognized by teachers even as the follower (imagine cruel teenagers like himself).

That is the character description I have of the maruaders. Now Marauders would be dangerous for a show/series, because online we already see how many people wish to see the perspective of marauders to justify Snape's bullying.

Marauders were in fact bullies and I don't know if either hell would break loose that the marauders are portrayed as such and not the gay softies ATYD is yapping about.

James is a hardcore classist to the core and a jock. He literally is that boy who bullies the male protagonist who gets close to the popular girl.

Sirius is the bad boy classist. He's so filthy rich and act like he's there for the poor or one of the poor. Only difference is be sleeps on a bed of money and also has discrimination tendencies towards the poor and those standing in weak societies.

Remus is the spineless backbone of that group. He acts like hes the victim because of his condition but yet he chose to stay there. He's that person that whines about "why do only toxic guys find me" even though the person is making the choice to date said toxic men. Sirius and James weren't hiding red flags either. They brag about it in broad daylight. Yet he chose to stay friends with them.

Peter is that friend that tries 3x as hard to fit in with the cool group only to make him look like a fool and pathetic. And the school labels him as such, giving him reason for pent up restentment.

Those are the marauders, there is no real 2nd layer to them. James bullies because he can. Sirius bullies because his home life is sad. Remus has self created fear to speak up and Peter is desperate to be seen as one of the marauders.

I think that life/series would quickly run out of audience. Since it doesn't match the anticipation the majority of marauders fans made up of them. And secondly, they were bullies, who would even enjoy watching 4 kids gang up on 1 kid constantly for no reason aside because they can. It would feel tasteless and force the audience to be involved in doing so.

Like the audience is participating in ruining 7 years of one child alone. As if the audience is also part of the child's ruin and abuse. Because let me tell you, this piece in the book sounds to me so ominous, I got chills:

🛑 'Once James had deflated his head a bit,' said Sirius.

'And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it,' said Lupin.

'Even Snape?' said Harry. Well,' said Lupin slowly, 'Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James so you couldn't really expect James to take that lying down, could you?'

'And my mum was OK with that?'

'She didn't know too much about it, to tell you the truth,' said Sirius.

'I mean, James didn't take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?' Sirius frowned at Harry, who was still looking unconvinced.

(Book: The Order of the phoenix/ ch29: Career Advice, page 645/646)

You see, lily would only date James if he changed. Which he didn't. He lied to the supposedly love of his life and mother of his child. But he felt the need to involve his friends into keeping this a secret.

His friend being Remus, the PREFECT. Why did he become a prefect? Oh right, to keep his friends in line which he failed miserably like the spineless kid he is.

Sirius is a die hard for James. Even if James would murder, Sirius would help him cover up the body. Sirius even gets angry when harry is accusing James of being remotely bad. How dare James his child nag his dead best mate? Please, make that make sense.

These are the characters people want a show/series of?

The creator has to MAKE UP stuff that would probably make more loss than profit. Similar to a show that doesn't always need a sequal or prequal or 3rd movie, because that one book or movie was enough already as it is.

If the show ever did make up reasons for marauders to attack Snape which the original books (HP) never gave. Snape fans would be livid because the show makes up headcanons then to justify the hatred even though James and Sirius their hatred simply began because Snape liked Slytherin.

If the creator gave a show of marauders their canon events the (majority of) marauders fans would lose their mind too. Not only that. If the marauders book doesn't remotely come close to what HP is about, many fans wouldn't be bothered to read jkr books at all. Because it wouldn't make sense because it wouldn't fit in nicely with the original books.

Making it so that fans won't be even bothered to read those books at all. Causing jkr to lose money in her assets. Because imagine if jkr does give Sirius and James a reason to bully Snape. Like, maybe the marauders were doing it for the good for the most time but sometimes it wasn't and Snape only remembered the sometimes.

It would cause an outrage because that would mean, Snape was in fact an absolute asshole, marauders were saints all along. Which would paint Harry and golden trio in a bad light for being friends with harry who idolizes and forgives Snape. Nothing would come out of marauders series unless marauders fans are alright with accepting that canon them were shitty abusive bullies.

There is no 2nd meaning to it. Such as Snape was also bad, Snape this, Snape that, etc. because James himself gives away he torments Snape for being alive, and the train gave more than enough reason as to why the other reasons don't matter. Reasons that's snaters make such as:

- studying DA

- being surrounded with DE

- being friends with lily.

Because it all began in that 1st train ride to Hogwarts where James and Sirius branded Snape as Snivellus for simply adoring Slytherin. And they tried to trip him too when they chose to not go into a fight them but rather leave the battle.

What I would like though is a what-if show. Do people know the what if situation from marvel where they explore multiple scenarios and outcomes? Like, this show or book would have nothing to do with canon or ruin canon, but it's exploring popular headcanons. I do would like that.

It is safe, fun and does give most people what they want. I wouldn't touch this subject either if I was jkr. People already hate her for stupid reasons (some are valid). Marauders fans already go around saying a marauders fan doesn't have to be a HP fan or that they hate HP but love marauders.

This is my take on it. If it sound repetitive, I am drained, and might look at this later and rewrite it a bit.

[dreamy-guardian-angel]

:) oh buddy I'm about to be your new best friend. I am the Delta anon. I come from mainly @/howlsofbloodhounds inbox (also Howls if you're somehow seeing this. I'LL COME BACK SOON I PROMISE).

RANT IT IS!

I find that Delta usually has very complex relationships with a lot of people, especially based on his reputation around the Multiverse and Omega Timeline. Bad guys know him as a threat who will stop at nothing to kill, good guys know him as a bit unhinged but their heart is in the (mostly) right place (aside from the murder). Anyone who poses a threat will be treated as such by them with no hesitation.

However, that being said, if a stranger approaches with caution and strikes up a conversation (asks for directions, for him to translate something, etc.), they will actually he extremely polite and patient with them. He won't be aggressive if they approach nicely, which can often confuse the ones who view him as a threat waiting to be unleashed. They know if he's around, a fight will most likely soon follow.

Does Delta know this? Absolutely. I'd imagine that they actually kind of enjoy the fear that comes from others - if they're bad, then they have everything to lose. If they're good, they're safe. He will only attack bad people and it is very well known.

And like most of the talk about Delta and Color's relationship, the headcanon of Delta being Color's roommate and protector (and semi-caretaker while he's in recovery) is usually adopted.

For me personally, I like to imagine that Delta had to reteach Color everything from day one - not to say Color was helpless whatsoever during recovery, just needed a bit of help, love, and routine to get their life back in order. They are very close friends, even though they argue on occasion and blow up at each other due to their explosive natures.

With that being said, I also like to think that Color taught Delta a LOT about so many things, opened their eyes to a lot more possibilities than they realized before. Because before Color really came around, Delta kinda only had himself, Beta (the collective nickname that was chosen for the Bravery Soul), and whoever they encountered.

Some of these things could be about the patience and time recovery takes. Delta is usually a get-in-get-out sorta guy I think, so if he gets injured, he heals himself quickly and rushes to the next AU or fight. But Color practically forced him to realize that what he can survive with ease is not the case for everyone else - he may be able to heal himself without thinking about it, but others sometimes don't have that luxury.

Another thing I'd like to imagine Color taught them more about is patience (ironic, i know). Healing takes quite a bit of time, even if it's done instantly with magic. Color had to be rehabilitated, taught the things people would just know, and Delta was a big part of his learning process. But when things got hard, he practically forced Delta to learn that instead of fighting it (usually physically or verbally), they needed to be patient, take a breath to calm down, and keep trying while keeping their cool.

I also think that Color would help them to actually accept the things they need to do in regards to their neurodivergency (I hc that Delta/Beta have ADHD and probably a few other things, but right now ADHD is the main thing I'm talking about here). Color was taught by pretty much everyone around him that he was allowed to express themselves however they wanted, as long as it wasn't hurting anyone or themselves.

I feel like Delta would be the type of guy to refuse himself stims or breaks, not wanting to be seen as 'weak' or 'vulnerable' by their enemies. I'd imagine that they mask often, causing them only more frustration the longer they do it - hence why they get so excited when they can fight. They get to release all that pent-up stress and energy, and use it to protect people that they care about, including themselves. What better coping method could a neurodivergent with anger issues ask for?

But Color taught him that they don't have to resort to fighting to get out energy, and don't have to mask in order to feel safe - don't have to view themselves as weak for allowing themselves the comfort of stims and all that comes with it.

And that's not to say Delta didn't know about these things before - just that he didn't think of it. Color obviously taught him much more than just these things, but these are the first ones that come to mind. They undoubtedly have the closest bond that could be, no matter what happens.

And moving onto Epic now, I actually don't know how I imagine these two meeting. So I'm open to ideas on this one lmao.

But no matter how they met, they are also very very close - they enjoy spending time together, mostly because it's so different than what Delta's used to. He can feel a bit more relaxed around Epic. And, like Color, Epic encourages stimming to the highest extent (I imagine he has AuDHD). With the memes and overall chaos, though, Delta would probably need breaks of silence in their hangouts lmao.

I'm gonna be real with you, I don't have much of an opinion on him. But that isn't to say that he's not a massive part of Delta's life.

I'd imagine that he'd be the first person aside from Delta that Color was introduced to. Naturally Color wouldn't be as friendly, maybe even viewing him as a threat until he eventually came around. (You gotta introduce early post-VOID Color to people like a cat, from what I understand. It'll work, trust.)

Now, with Cross, it could be a bit more complicated. Even though it was claimed as non-canon by Jakei I believe(?), in Delta's story, he canonically fought Cross. Which obviously leaves a bad first impression for both of them.

Needless to say, when Delta finds out that Epic is friends with Cross, he is NOT happy. Things would probably be tense between the two for a very, very long time, probably involving multiple altercations and fights between the two. But I think they would eventually get on better, more neutral terms - maybe even respect each other eventually.

I do think that the longer Cross is around and the more he integrates into their group, Delta will accept him soon enough and not put up as much as a fight about it. They might even grow protective of Cross, instinctively wanting to protect him from danger, just how he does with everyone else.

And honestly, Cross would probably teach him to be more accepting of people who are trying to turn their lives around. Delta has most definetly fought this dude multiple times in the past, and will proudly admit to that. But he learned that even people who did a lot of bad shit can change, and should be allowed the time, resources, and space to do so. I think they'd be friends eventually.

Now, with Killer, it is going to take him MUCH longer. Cross is mostly acceptable because they showed genuine change and apologized for past actions - Killer, on the other hand, has not yet.

It's kinda known how Color actively saved Killer and helped him begin learning to change and recover. And he's seen firsthand how much Killer has hurt Color - they were on the front lines with them.

So naturally, once Killer tries to assimilate into their friend group, Delta fucking hates it. He is completely unwilling to accept Killer, an unapologetic sociopath with a body count higher than Delta and all his friend's combined, into their friend group. Hell no. They'd rather die (again).

It probably goes on like this for the entirety of Killer's reintegration-into-society process. No matter how hard Delta tries to bite his tongue, mask it, fake politeness and try to be patient, it is a never-ending battle between him and Killer - and in turn, with Color.

Killer being in their lives would definetly create a lot of conflict between them and Color. Delta doesn't want to let some murderer around them - especially one that worked with their literal enemies! But Color is determined to help, and not a single thing is going to stop him.

Eventually, of course, things would get better. Killer would stop being such a menace (though he'd still be chaotic) and Delta would slowly get over his pure hatred of the guy. I'm honestly not sure if they could ever be friends due to the unyielding grudges that Delta holds, but they can at least be on decent enough terms to not try to kill each other every time Color leaves them alone in a room for more than 10 seconds.

I think his relationship with Beta would be very different from all of these, though. They have quite literally known each other the longest, as they are fused together. I'd imagine that at the start of their relationship, it was pretty rocky.

Beta just got freed from his eternal chamber where he was forced to stay in the dark after being killed, and was immediately absorbed to fight and beat a demon before they left forever. That statement alone carries through some the trauma this kid endured - and now he was suddenly fused with one of the Monsters he had previously known. So of course their relationship would be very complicated at first. But with time, things would get less complicated - they would get more in sync, trust each other more.

I think that as the years go by, they'd eventually develop a brother-like relationship. They are definetly very close, always having each other's backs, ready for whatever comes next.

Now, onto headcanons about his other relationships outside of the Chromatic Crew.

For me personally, I think he'd actually get along very well with Lust! (I know a lot of people call him Plum or Sugar or whatever, but I honestly don't mind calling him Lust.) I'm not exactly sure how they would meet, though. Maybe Delta was saving him from someone? Or maybe they met in the Omega Timeline somewhere.

I think their first meeting would be a bit awkward. I don't know Lust very well so forgive me if I'm not doing him justice here, but I imagine he'd be the type to flirt slightly with people he just met (not inappropriately of course).

I personally hc that Delta is aroace, so obviously this would make a very awkward first introduction if Lust gets flirty. However, I think once they get past that (and once Delta sets firm boundaries), they would be good friends!

I also think that they would gossip together. With how involved Delta is and how strong his opinions are on about damn near anything, he definetly knows about a lot of drama happening in the Multiverse. And Lust being Lust, I imagine he'd be involved in drama, too. So I think they would definetly bond on that front.

And honestly, I think he'd be on decent terms with the Star Sanses as well. In truth though, I also don't know them very well aside from the things I see everyone else putting out here, so I may not do them justice in this topic lmao.

I think he'd be fine with Ink, honestly. He may disagree with the things Ink stands for and how he perceives the Multiverse and its inhabitants, but he can't deny that Ink has saved countless AU's - regardless of intention, morals or motive. As long as Ink doesn't try to interfere with their work, they have no issues with him.

Dream, on the other hand, I feel Delta might be a little more frustrated by. Of course Dream is a genuinely good person - that is simply who he is. But the almost foolish (in Delta's eyes, at least) belief that Nightmare can change and may come back around one day can annoy him very easily. It's obvious Nightmare isn't coming back, no matter how much Dream still loves and cares about his brother. It ain't happening. (He thinks Dream is a tiny bit delusional on that front. And also that the whole 'balance' thing is absolute bullshit. However, he thinks that pretty much everything else Dream stands for is good.)

I think he and Blue would be good friends, though! They have quite a lot in common in my eyes. I think they'd go sparring and patrol together on occasion, when they both have the time.

I also think that he and Ccino would get along very well despite how different they are. They balance each other out in a way - and plus, Delta always tips well. (He also tried to steal a cat for Color once. He felt bad and returned it the next day. Ccino has too many cats - his answer to the return was "I thought I just counted wrong. I should probably take a nap and fix that". And that was when Delta became concerned with this man's sleeping habits lmao.)

And finally, Ganz. I'm not sure if you know him or not (he's kinda unknown as well) but I imagine Delta's actually pretty close with him. Due to Ganz's depressive nature, Delta offers help at a moments notice, no matter what kind of help he needs.

All in all, they care very much about their friends.

Anyways, that's all I got! Thoughts?

(Context)

ANON I LOVE YOU, thank you so much for taking the time to answer me<33

Okay, first of all, while I was reading your answer I saw someone reblog my previous post, so @swelteringfire , sorry for the tag, but I thought you might want to read this as well

⤵️

SECOND, thanks again, it really helped and it was actually interesting!

I saw quite a few fanarts of Delta and Color and I was confused at first because I didn't understand their dynamic, but this clears up a lot of things. It actually sounds really sweet how they basically helped each other in so many different ways when they needed it. Same thing goes for Epic and Cross. I believe Cross is a really complex character, and I know he had his problems with a lot (or even the majority) of other monsters, so I'm not surprised they might've had a rough start as well seeing Delta's nature.

I'll be honest, I was particularly curious about his relationship with Killer (sorry, I love him more than anything</3), and yes, I can see how they might have their difficulties. I'm not sure if this is right, but Delta's behaviour and thoughts about Killer at first remind me a bit of what Dust or Horror might think of him too. Now, I love the found family trope for the MTT, but realistically speaking I know they both would view Killer as a sort of threat as well (which is...ironic, but understandable).

Also I didn't know about Beta but thanks, now I'm crying<33 The fandom usually tends to ignore the other souls' trauma, so it's nice to know that someone actually takes the time to focus on that sometimes. They were just kids too.

I also love how you mentioned Lust and Blue as well! Swap is basically everyone's bestie at this point, and I'm so happy about it (also he's probably the most stable out of everyone there). And Lust would absolutely love to stop and gossip after getting to know Delta!

I think he would be fine with Ink and Dream too, and at the same time it's so funny how the bad guys would be kind of scared of him

Overall he sounds like a really interesting character, I would like to see more of him!

(Sorry if it's short, but I have class now)

[theallianceofcelestials]

Can we get a small drabble of Mirror Moon with baby Solar??? I feel like Moon needs to get therapized by having to deal with a baby Solar for like, 14 hours.

Hehehehe

Moon knows he needs help. He knows this, because there's a wailing child before him on the floor, and he's exhausted everything the internet said would work to calm a child down.

To be fair, he's aware his methods of showing affection are rather... unique, but they're nothing to cry about this much! Solar's fine after! He makes sure to never do more than he can handle!

But a child doesn't know that, and as annoying as it is to have this brat crying, Moon loves his nephew too much. So he's going to put up with him.

Even if he drew all over him, bit him, almost threw up on him, dressed him in ridiculous shit, bit him again, drooled on him, covered him in tears, spilled his drink on him, spat on him, painted on him and bit him again. Honestly kid should feel lucky he's as understanding and patient as he is. He'd have otherwise done some things he'd regret

"Come on kid, we've been over thiiiiiiiiis!"

Whining like a child. Really, how pathetic Moony?

And predictably, baby Solar keeps on crying because he's a little brat who wants to really test his patience. But that's fine, because he can be gentle with his things, and especially with his people.

So he slowly reaches for the child, snaking his hands under his armpits until he can hoist him up against his chest. When that only makes the brat cry, he gives a playful shake

"What? You only wanna cuddle your big softie dad?"

Understandable. When he's not being a cold little bitch, KC gives amazing hugs.

And it's exactly from KC's book that he tears a page out of, beginning to purr.

He's rusty at it, the sound being more grating than not at first, but he gets into it. He would be even shittier somehow if he couldn't.

Big reddish pink optics blink up at him through tears, and Moon can't help the soft noise he makes at their sight. He reaches a finger out to whipe them away, ignoring when the little stupid thing flinches away.

Like this the brat's wailing stops at least, transitioning more into soft sobs and tired hiccups. Looks like he tired himself out.

Good. Moon's not sure he could have handled longer

"That's it bud, just go to sleep. Uncle Moony will take care of you"

He won't let anything touch him. If something tried hurting him he'd rip them to shreds.

If a human so much as lays eyes on him, he's going to enjoy slowly ripping them apart. That filth doesn't deserve to see him beloved nephew.

Nothing aside from his family really. Nothing deserves him.

And Moon will make sure the world knows it

[anon-sect]

Story requested by @marcos1225

Uninvited

Part 1

Carlos heard that five of his best friends from high school were going to be in town for the weekend. It had been several years since they all had gotten together. They had kept in touch on a regular every month. Seeing it was the perfect time, he sent an invite to Alejandro, Miguel, Ricardo, and Tomas. They all responded back enthusiastically. He was so looking forward to the weekend.

While over at his cousin's place, Pedro happened to notice the stream of text when Carlos laid his phone down. "Whose party?" He asked him.

"Just me and my five best friends from high school are hanging out this weekend. We haven't done it in a long time." Carlos closed his phone. He was slightly annoyed that his cousin was being nosey.

"Can I come over then?" Pedro asked him. He liked hanging out with his super cool cousin.

"Not this time. I just want it to be my five friends and I. We have a lot to catch up on." Carlos paused. "Besides, they don't know you. Some of the stories we will talk about, you won't be familiar with. But, next time I have a party, you can come." He explained to Pedro, hoping he would understand.

"I understand," Pedro replied, feeling disappointed.

The weekend arrived as all five friends pulled up to chill and hand out. Carlos had a load of snacks set up as well as the beer and sodas.

Carlos greeted everyone and invited them in. It was a great time meeting up again. They all enjoyed their time together, remembering the good times and catching each other up on what was new.

Carlos then heard his doorbell ring. He got up to see who it was. He opened the door to see it was Pedro. "What's up?" He asked him, curious as to why he was at his place.

"I came for the party. I hope I am not late." Pedro spoke, waiting on the invite to come in.

"I told you earlier in the week, It was a private party. Remember?" Carlos reminded him.

"I just thought you would change your mind if I showed up." Pedro tried to reason with him, but seeing that Carlos wouldn't budge.

"I haven't, so just leave, okay." Carlos was slightly annoyed by this point.

Pedro would not take no for an answer. He pushed Carlos aside and walked in. "I think I will stay." He continued on in.

Alejandro, Miguel, Tomas, and Ricardo looked up as Pedro walked in the room. They didn't reconigize him. They saw Carlos walking behind him with an annoyed look on his face. "Sorry about this, my cousin is just leaving, right?" Carlos directed his statement at Pedro.

"No." Pedro simply said as he started eating some of the snacks.

Carlos was starting to get upset with his cousin. "Please just leave, okay." He was trying not to get too upset over Pedro ruining their good time.

"If I can't stay, I may as well bring some beer back home with me then." Pedro spoke up, seeing that he truly was not welecomed. He took out his phone and opened up this TF Pro Max app. He walked around and pointed the camera at his five friends. He hit the flash option at the camera focused.

Carlos saw all of his friends get turned into beer cans right before his eyes. He saw Pedro gather them up in his hands. "Turn them back to normal right now!" He demanded.

"I need something to drink at my place. But since this really bothers you, I know how to fix that." Pedro put done the cans and pointed the phone camera at Carlos and hit the flash. He picked up the last beer can. "I am sure you six will taste so good while I sit and watch tv." He laughed as he gathered all six beer cans and went back to his house.

Carlos was surprised his own cousin had turned him into a can of beer to drink. It was all because he wasn't invited to a private party. He couldn't scream for help or even run away. He was powerless as he was carried away to his cousin's house to quench his thirst. He only hoped that Pedro wouldn't actually drink them. He didn't want to be guzzled into his belly.

Pedro got back home, which was only a few houses down from Carlos's place. He sat the six beer cans on the table. He forgot the order he had picked them up in. He didn't know which can was which guy. He could end up drinking his cousin first or just one of his friends.

TO BE CONTINUED..........

[brainrotbee]

Catcrow Week Day 4: Free Day

~

"I'm bored," the Cat King complained.

"You're always bored," Monty replied, his nose stuck in an astrology book. He was curled up in a way that made him look even more crow-like than usual. The Cat King sighed. The roommate thing was going fine but it still didn't change the fact that there was absolutely nothing going on in Port Townsend. Esther was dead, Edwin was gone, and almost all the ghosts with problems had gotten them solved thanks to the "detectives." There was nothing else to do, aside from picking fights with the town werewolf.

"Go for a swim or something," Monty continued, flipping a page. They were at the beach enjoying one of the few sunny days they experienced a year. Out of all the places the Cat King could've ended up in, Washington was less than ideal.

"The water's freezing and you know it."

"Chase a laser then."

The Cat King rolled his eyes. It was a cheap joke, even if Monty's deadpan delivery was pretty funny. He picked up a few pebbles and let them fall through his fingers before an idea came to him. "Truth or dare?"

Monty frowned in annoyance, like there was a fly buzzing by his head. "What?"

"Truth or dare."

He raised a dark eyebrow before setting his book down. "Truth," he answered. "I know better than to trust you."

"I have no idea what you mean," the Cat King insisted innocently. He gazed out at the iron gray waves and thought. "How was kissing Edwin?"

"Are you serious?" Monty looked downright offended. He crossed his arms and turned away.

"You were the one who picked truth."

"Well, that's private."

The Cat King grinned. It was fun to hang out with someone whose feathers he could ruffle (ha). His subjects were used to his sharp tongue by now and there wasn't anyone else he really spent time with. "Chicken."

"It was quick," Monty snapped. His eyes were pointedly fixed on the lighthouse in the distance. He looked like he was missing life as a crow. "But it was nice. I-" He blushed. "I didn't even kiss him on the lips. I got, like, the corner of his mouth."

The Cat King laughed. "Rookie mistake."

Monty glared. "Shut up." He pushed his long-forgotten book away. "Your turn."

The Cat King hesitated. He hadn't expected Monty to play along. "Truth." He regretted it as soon as he said it but there was no going back. It was quiet as Monty thought of his question. Even though the ocean sucked to swim in, it was comforting to listen to.

"What's your real name?"

The Cat King blinked. He'd expected much worse, something that would drag the most embarrassing secrets out of him. Monty loved revenge just as much as he did. This... was surprisingly tame. "Why?"

Monty shrugged. "Just curious." He drew his knees up to his chest. and looked up at a seagull flying overhead. "There's no way your parents named you 'the Cat King.' If you have parents, I guess."

"Thomas." The word felt foreign in the Cat King's mouth. It hadn't been spoken in so long. "My name is Thomas."

Monty nodded and picked up his book, leaving the Cat King to lose himself in memories.

[tapenessa]

saw this and went crazy. here are my Thoughts

Henry always had a knack for making things, but even though he was praised for his skill, he found no purpose in it. He made things, and they would sit on his shelf and would never be touched again. Even after meeting William, someone with talent like his, their creations ended up in storage closets to gather dust. Henry almost considered dropping creating altogether, but then Charlie was born.

Financially struggling, still paying off student loans, Henry didn’t have the funds to buy Charlie anything outside of the bare necessities. Terrified of Charlie growing up to resent him, he decides to pick up some old unfinished pieces and makes a few toys. They aren’t anything, really, pretty much just metal with shells painted to look somewhat like animals, but Charlie adored them. She would spend hours gripping them with her tiny hands, giggling hysterically at the funny noises they made. It was the first time someone had truly enjoyed something Henry made— Charlie didn’t really care about his talent or skill, she just liked how cute the toys were, and what she could do with them. Henry spent the hours baby Charlie was asleep making her toys, each one more polished and refined than the last.

Henry doesn’t consider using his sill for anything else until William has an idea. He’s aware of Henry’s financial struggles, and he pitches an idea. Long story short, he suggests Fredbear’s. The idea seems dumb to Henry at first— imagine how dangerous those suits would be— but relents when William reminds him that soon Charlie will be old enough to attend school, and didn’t she deserve the best education money could buy? Henry relents, and starts sacrificing his time dedicated to building for Charlie to building for business.

In the beginning, it doesn’t strain much. Henry’s making decent money now, he’s gotten closer to William, and, despite his initial concerns, he enjoys being Fredbear and making kids smile and laugh and being this person they trust wholeheartedly. He’s losing time with Charlie, but he doesn’t think much of it, since she’s always been mature for her age and she’s starting school soon anyways.

Fredbear’s does so well, that William suggests they take that extra step. They begin working on new animatronics, and prepare to open Freddy’s. (During this time, this is when Vanessa is born. Henry is aware she exists, but she’s always sleeping when Henry comes over to work. He doesn’t pay her too much thought, since he knows William is a good dad.) Charlie has started school, but even when she’s home, Henry is too preoccupied with work to play with her. Charlie eventually learns to find fun elsewhere, often running off on her own, usually without telling Henry, to find her own adventures. Henry is aware of this, but he trusts that she’ll know what to do in any emergency. And it’s not like anything’s going to happen— the town is small, everyone knows each other, who would hurt Charlotte Emily, anyways?

Skip forward a couple years, Freddy’s is open and booming, but Henry is piled with work running the place, even with William’s help. Charlie is a teenager now, so Henry lets her run off to do whatever she wants, because he believe she’s smart enough to protect and keep herself safe. And since he’s barely paying much mind to Charlie, he certainly isn’t thinking much of Vanessa.

One night, however, as Henry decides to put work aside and get some sleep, he realizes Charlie still isn’t home. He checks all around the house and doesn’t find her. He phones William, going to ask if he had seen her at Freddy’s, but gets no response. Now scared, he goes out to go find her. He checks Freddy’s first, because that’s usually where she runs off to when she’s bored.

He checks the entire place inside out, and can’t find her. No one has seen her, none of the employees, or any of the few remaining parents and kids, and William isn’t there. Henry leaves Freddy’s and spends the rest of the night driving endless circles around the town, looking for the one thing that gave his life meaning.

Henry isn’t the one who finds Charlie’s body. It’s Vanessa the next morning, when William takes her to open the restaurant for the day. She runs to William in tears, sobbing over the death of this girl she barely knew. William, still keeping up his ‘perfect father’ act, cries with Vanessa, and they call Henry.

Henry falls into a deep depression after the news. Charlie dying was all his fault. He neglected her, he didn’t support her, he didn’t protect her, and she died cold and all alone in the rain with no one to comfort her. At the very least, he wished he could have been there, to hold her and tell her everything was all right while she took her final breaths, but no, even when she was dying, he neglected her needs for work. For these creations that he fell into love with making because of her.

Everything in town reminds Henry of Charlie. The children, the shops, the school. He doesn’t want to remember everything because it all hurts so much, so, without a word to William, he leaves. Moves far away, leaves behind his projects, and gets a mindless office job in the city. Tries to forget he even had a daughter in the first place. Forgets about William and Vanessa entirely.

Five children going missing in a small, unknown town goes unknown by the ret of the world, goes unknown by Henry.

It’s not until many years later, after the events of the first movie, that Henry is drawn back in. He keeps having strange dreams about the puppet animatronic he built for Charlie years ago that never made it to Freddy’s, since it didn’t match the theme. In every dream, it beckons him forward, before disappearing from his grasp. Unsettled, he decides to see the town again, check in on everything, only to come back and find Freddy’s destroyed, William dead, and Vanessa in the hospital. Realizing this isn’t something he can ignore, he stays with Vanessa until she wakes up and teams up with her to find out what exactly happened, and eventually learns that his daughter is not entirely gone.

i think Vanessa Afton deserves a Henry Emily in the movie franchise to be the found family father she needs to heal.

[awakenthebeing]

Pipoe kawaii!

Both of your words in particular have caused Piepoe to feel very joyful and warm...!! It appreciates!!