#tw mentions of corruption

[y0ncan]

the description fits this sukuna drawn by @cuviz . i'll commission (they're open!) a fitting piece to this story, so stay tuned.

"…field worker of food enterprise »yūjiocha« has collapsed on the 24th of this august. health officials have shared that the 52-year-old suffered from breathing difficulties up to a heat stroke. following this shocking incident, the company has been under fire due to its low payment of field and indoor workers in rural sendai. the company's domicile in tokyo has been blocked by strikers as we speak, demanding fair working conditions. what makes citizens worry is the CEO-"

"anotha day with the same ol' stories," the taxi-driver mumbles, his head cowering under the windshield to examine the billboards.

you follow his direction and are greeted with the shiny exterior of ads over ads, raging from fashion brands to promotional thumbnails for upcoming movies. they contrast wonderfully with the grey and damp weather, the vividness too intense for this early traffic jam.

orange plus green letters of the said brand appear with a 3d animation of a rotating matcha tea packet. the name alone makes you swallow, your shoulders knotted as rain drops glide down the window. "hm, unfortunately."

"headin' there, aren't ya? ya're with dose devils?" you are quick to pick out his sarcasm but don't hold back from covering your chest with sweaty hands. "no, no! i'm here for the press conference! have to step in for my colleague, that's why."

"ya nervous?" from the backseat you hear the lightness in his tone. if he can sense it, than what's the point of trying to make excuses? really, it was a mixture of both excitement and nauseau. if it weren't for your co-worker telling you last minute, you would've had to wait for the next blue moon. it couldn't be compared to the never-ending online researches at home - this was a once in a life time opportunity for your career.

your thoughts come to an abrupt stop when the car pulls over. "kick their asses, yeah?"

"… queries are only allowed within your designated time. please refrain from shouting out," after half an hour of a protracted introduction with the help of a slide-show, the lady in glasses puts the microphone down - especially painful when your view is blocked by loads of technical equipment and tall backs of men in suits.

"good morning, shibuya network speaking here. we're interested in hearing the opinion of the CEO himself." the reporter sits down and the action builds anticipation in you with how swift this already works. nothing like what's shown on edited broadcasts or 30 pages of transcript for homework.

you raise your chin from the back of the spacious room. the two men at the podium exchange expressions. at first you don't understand their worrisome looks, until a screeching vibration echoes in the hall, as if an object is being dragged along something sharp. you squeeze your eyes open to the third person in the middle.

"you wanna hear my opinion?" your gaze dances across the room, trying to search for a reaction in the several women and men around you. have they just heard the exact same thing as you or are you caught in the sketch of some sadistic comedian?

"yes sir, your opinion."

the silence doesn't drag on for long, "of what?"

"sir, one of your worker-"

"i'm aware of that."

"after he collapsed-"

"yeah?"

"what exactly are you-"

"what are you aiming at?" a quasy feeling settles in your stomach.

"sir, what measures are you going to take?" the man finally snaps with rushed words, as anyone else would naturally do so.

"doin' as always." his face is cold, his movements solid.

"next question please," the spokesperson on the left side states.

you mouth goes dry. you recall why you've been hesitant when you got the call from your fever-plagued office partner, nobara kugisaki.

a few journalists and news outlets survey general questions relating to the company itself which makes your legs bounce with thin patience. can't they postpone these for another public gathering? at this state you weren't even sure if everyone would get a turn.

"in the last five years ryomen sukuna has held back from providing the public with clarifications on the many rumors he has been involved in… mr ryomen, would you be so kind and enlighten us?" a tall, white-haired woman sits down. some part of your brain tells you that she is grinning, although her voice has been stagnant despite some alarmed countenances on the stage.

the addressed man leans back - not without a chuckle though.

the next participant takes the mic. you are confused.

you reread your notes. is it worth asking when this conference has either denied or made fun of the press inquiries this far? you aren't one to defend gossip magazines who survive off his or anyone's questionable past, but this was too out-of-place for your own liking. simply put: it is disrespectful.

"good stories osaka, mr ryomen, please tell us about your alco-"

"we don't entertain this type of output from here on. please focus on recent activities or refrain from speaking."

you follow the white bow. "good morning, kyoto today here. sir, have you already been in contact with the victim's family? and how will you compensate your workers in the future? thank you for your cooperation." your ears perk up and you immediately cross out one scribbled line.

"that man is out of the hospital. i don't see a need to compensate anyone."

gasps and whispers spread throughout the tense air. right now, you can observe the only positive: the reporter's stance - how she confidently protrudes among the hushed outbreak, her grip on the microphone unwavering.

"so i'll take you don't intend on raising the standard of your worker's conditions anytime soon?"

"never planned to."

honestly, you aren't sure what to do when the room errupts with audible complaints and writers violently pressing down on their keyboards. "is this legal?" a reporter with a green notepad wants to know. others demand their camera men to "get everything on camera! no, zoom in!" and give them a slap on the back to get closer.

"please keep it quiet for the last contendors - if not, we are obligated to cancel this session."

your heart picks up at an uncomfortable frequency. you take deep breaths.

"from the daily press - mr ryomen, how will you deal with the recent protest in front of this very building?"

the men around him have long ago loosened their ties, sitting back in their chairs, handkerchiefs pressed against their red temples. by reading them you understand their missing courage to talk some sense into the CEO. even if, is this man capable of seeing his own faults?

"i'd like to see how long they'll drag this out - prolly not long."

the lady's arm points upward, "but sir! you are aware the people outside are your employees, right?!" it wasn't the first time during this knot garden that an interviewer has sounded like they are on the edge of insanity.

"so? there are enough volunteers who will take their places."

the woman near you sinks down without another word. your wrinkly page has ended up as a muddy ball of paper. you could theoratically get up and leave at any given time but with the cramped up space around you, you'd have to sit through this until the end.

thanks to your inner monologue you almost miss the black object pocking into your panorama.

now or never.

when you take the mic into your hand, you wince at the short self-noise. "kanagawa news… sir, i'll be brief: what's your purpose at yūjiocha?"

you can't unsee the way his knuckles push against the side of his cheek with the most uninterested glare - pierced brow not moving an ounce while you are mentally fluctuating for his answer.

"you tell me what my purpose is. you journalists love to pretend to know everything. isn't that so…"

you raise your brows. his derisive layer of throwing you and other hard-working writers into the same pot with gossipers leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.

"sir, i didn't assume anything. my question is: what's your personal ambition - you don't give the impression of having a goal as the chairman of your own company." you're at loss for words by none other than your own self. from the edges of your vista you find heads sticking together. the camera directed at you doesn't go unnoticed either.

that was the harmless part - not when his eyelids drop at your comment. in a flash, you question your own professionality. are you wrong?

"oh, so now you're telling me what to do?"

you huff. "that is not my intention, sir. i'm wondering why this - when you're acting reckless with the company of your-"

"a nobody from the gutter press is seriously teaching me about my business? tch."

"next one," the spokesperson moves on.

you remember the prominent throb in your throat, blurring out the last back-and-forths until everyone, one by one, started to exit the hall. his team is the first one to do so and you fear that this belittling memory will never fully dissolve.

the next day doesn't reward you for your rookie service either. the brown-haired woman walks up and down, prior to sitting down and repeating the same pattern anew.

"…means i can't use it?"

nobara, your senior of two years with more experience in the world of critical writing supports her head with her right palm. "hold on," the corner of her mouth twists in annoyance as she analyzes the screen of her pink tablet.

"these sons of bitches have not only imposed a copyright restriction because of a goddamn power point presentation but also threaten us with cutting our money!?" it was only a question of time when she would go berserk. you weren't going to risk calming her down when she had all the right in the world - unfortunately copyrights excluded - to complain about the supergiant's legal terms.

as you found out - just hours ago after terrible five hours of sleep - the press is not allowed to share the conference recording on any platform. on top of that, the financial pressure of withdrawing advertising money is pushed down your throats in case companies release a - as quoted - smear campaign against their precious CEO.

"i don't get it… why attempt hiding it? the media already knows," you chew on your lip at the thought of having to let your very first citation go to waste. you weren't going to allow your own sweat and (almost) tears go down the drain. not when they are the ones in the wrong on so many levels.

"i'll tell you why… these pigs can't risk more damage! knuckles-deep in the mud and they still have the audacity to stop journalism! over my dead body!" the aroma of berries floats your nostrils when she raises her steamy mug.

"what's the plan?"

"(name). see this as your first main quest from your kugisaki girl herself, 'kay? WE'RE GOING TO FINISH THIS NO MATTER WHAT! EVEN IF THEY WERE TO FLOAT THIS OFFICE! those recordings aren't going anywhere!" her arm cramps up when the coughing fit returns.

you immediately begin your text, fueled with fire from her motivational speech. as your job requires, you are here in the first place because you've promised to reveal the shady side of the business world. you wouldn't want to let your partner in crime down - not when you were entrusted with this important task.

"thank you, nobara-san."

"that's the spirit, rookie. let's end those wretched capitalists! they better be grateful that i had a fever… i would've jumped them all!"

the yellowish light of your overly bright display blinds you in the shades. the blue logo of the daily press dissapears. your thumb enters the key words and urgently scrolls down the black on white.

user8653346

another nepo baby who gets away with THEIR usual egotistic IDIOCITY. we live in a rich man's world everyone!

anonymous

I'm dissapointed with the amount televison and CO publicize. Why do they downplay the traumatizing event of a victim and make traces of the protest dissapear.... inhumane. Thank you and anyone else who has covered this evil crime for us.

z.9999

Why act surprised? He has a bunch of illegal acts held against him yet he gets away!!? I'm more concerned for the people who've lost their jobs!

anonymous

threathening journalists shocks me the least... what has daddy’s company become? ヾ(´∀｀)

a notification from nobara pops up, showing screenshots of hilarious responses under other tokyo-based publications over the last days. it's quite a relief they haven't held back either.

but the happiness wouldn't last long of course.

"utahime-senpai just emailed me. (name), you can't imagine how enraged i am. meet me at the office." the green and red symbols dissapear along her name.

your heart pounds as you run down the busy streets. no time to take a bite or look in the mirror. at the crosswalk, you weigh if you should get a quick meal and later hop into a taxi or train.

the neon green window display of the convenience store finds you at the right time. after paying for food and a bottle of water you're about to run to the next station, however, the magazine stand catches your attention instead. you should sprint to your office as soon as possible yet you're curious about one thing.

you turn the pages and eventually find your own article. you quiver at the touch of the physical copy. it hasn't vanished. you let out a relieved groan and with the satisfied exploration, you flee through the automatic doors.

"i would like to have a word with the manager regarding the supply of non-updated newspaper in here."

"nobara…"

the said woman is leaning her arms against the top of her cluttered desk. without any remark you place your bag down.

her lids are shut.

minutes pass.

"these fuckers have taken down utahime-senpai's entry," striking back this early? "legal protection for copyright violation! copyright violation?! - they can't be serious!" her skin slams against the wood, twice. she lets out another yell, "gahhh!"

"she hasn't inserted the entire video material on her website," you can't find a reason why on god's green earth there should be any dilemma with her senior's article. it's not like writers aren't familiar with the rules in connection to giving credits, likewise with how and when to use correct quotations and other sources.

"ah you see, three minutes out of 2 hours crisis communication is too long! hah! how dare we forget about proprietary visuals! that half-assed presentation and ugly logo are allegedly commercialization!" she clears her throat in a dramatic manner, "now they limit distributions unless certain parts are changed. exploitation of underlying speech my ass!"

you curse under your breath. "what about us? have we exploited proprietary materials?" you cringe at the terms.

she shares the same sentiment, although now more wearisome. "that's why i've invited you over. just got a message from the pitiful sons themselves," she rolls the computer mouse with her index. "i'm not surprised anymore," she lets out. "we consider filing for legal action regarding the article written and published by your media press journalist (fn) (name) in case it is not taken offline within the next 12 hours,"

you bump into her side and continue to read out loud, "the content of the article titled »fair payment for hard labour: executive ryomen sukuna's biggest income or greatest weakness?« on the 28th of this month includes reputation-damaging conspiracy on behalf of CEO ryomen sukuna's private and professional credibility. our chief executive officer has suffered great harm to his public image in recent days through burgeoning cyber harassment and thus financial destabilization.

the usage of »[…] he's shamelessly open about his lacking empathy for his own work force.«, »[...] getting his position handed (and maintained) on a silver platter […]« and the last paragraph in your text, »what does mr ryomen intend to achieve? one can only look at the priviliged offspring with the empathy he seems to miss whenever he makes an appearance on national TV […]« are missleading accusations without official proof. throughout his career as an executive chief, ryomen sukuna has worked hard for his responsibilities no matter what grand force he is facing.

we must also remind you that mr ryomen has fairly earned his position as the heir of the late wasuke itadori. his accomplishments as a widely-accepted humanitarian representative can be reached via the links provided below. we request you take your article offline or we are duty-bound to take legal proceedings against your company »kanagawa news« and journalist (fn). we are looking forward to a quick response."

you are torn between laughing and touching grass outside. "isn't that funny?" the brunette turns to you but you shake your head in disbelief. "this must be a sick joke."

"not gonna lie, i was a click away from sharing this on my socials. should've send it to every single media channel in this damn prefecture. hah… what a circus… humanitarian? pff…"

your fingers poke at your forehead. you never had to deal with this before, not when you had already covered big names once or twice without any backlash on how angelic their respective nepo babies are. a brat disguised as a grown man… making his minions do the dirty job while he is getting payed millions for exploiting farmers and factory workers.

you can't believe it.

the difficultty of trying to swallow is suffocating. besides just giving up and doing as they preach, this is surrendering - falling down on your knees to get spared by his hierarchic superiority. is this how the rest gets treated behind the scenes? - getting their own principals deranged by some power-hungry maniacs? oh, you have truly underestimated them.

another pause befalls the small office. you see colleagues from the other department pass by the huge pane. the broken light bulb above is twitching. you huff in exhaustion. nobara should tell you what to do since any decisison today will be regretted in one way or another.

"we can't give those bastards the satisfaction," she finally breaks the silence, "let's make them shake longer and solve this pile of shit in the evening, i'm too tired for this freak show. also… we can't delete your oscar-worthy exposure just yet, can we?"

purples and oranges bleed between the mild blue patches. when you step out, the town is dipped in a desaturated shade. at least the sun isn't fully up so you can escape the heat in the confinement of your four walls.

with every step you fall deeper into a spiral: a dark abyss of humiliation and utter disgust in the face of your new reality. what wong-doing outside of wanting to serve justice have you commited? you want to scream to your heart's content but even that is prohibited to you.

damned be that disgusting man.

what makes his horrible soul deserving of power when he's shamelessly spitting at workers? just because he doesn't consider them worth his while?

your skin burns with anger whenever you revisit his responses. a nobody. you shouldn't let it get to you but experiencing it first hand leaves you with wishing him the absolute worst. your article could only express one-sixth of your honest opinion on a self-centered bitch like him. you can't wrap your head around the fact that he still stands proud as the official CEO. no consequences for him.

"ahh!"

the numbness is abruptly replaced by a mild ache in your nose.

"oh i'm sorry!" you are still busy holding your face when you catch a glimpse of your opposite. the novelty of the stranger's face feels weirdly soothing the exact moment you meet his blue orbs.

"my bad! hey, are you hurt?" his limbs spread out with a respectful distance, his concern tangible.

"it's okay!" you wave your hand, "should've looked where i go and not space out, hih," you try to lighten the situation with a chuckle. it does its wonder as he drops his long arms to his sides.

"you're from here?" you are taken back by the asudden quizzing. "uh, yes," you manage to respond back after just starting to slip by him. you are not in the mood to start a conversation with a male stranger so you stride with the same heaviness again.

"(fn) (name). i quite enjoyed reading your article. what was it again? - big executive who doesn't pay his employees?"

you throw a glance over your shoulder. should you be on high alert in his presence? who is this white-haired man and how does he know it's you? you don't have any official pictures- oh. the press conference. don't tell me he's one of his men? as expected, a pinch of fear gets in your way, yet you can't let that stop you.

"yeah, that's me. want to enlighten me to whom i owe the pleasure of speaking?" your arms stick to your body like magnets. as much as you want to appear strong, on the inside you try your best to not freak out.

white teeth manifest as he lets out a playful laugh at your irony. "huh, if you insist this early - gojo satoru," he does a slight bow which you accept with rolling eyes. what a player. "hope your majesty is in a joyful mood," he goes on. shouldn't you feel threatened like you've preached seconds ago?

"oh, don't escape me!" he launches forward and you pick up your pace. "what?!"

"but you didn't let me finish!" he puffs his cheeks out and you don't know how to reply to that. is he being serious? are you trapped in a money laundering scheme from nearby, perhaps?

"nuh uh, i don't need your money! on the contrary, give me a minute to introduce myself!" you try your best to stand your ground despite his childish antics. "you have to trust me for that though…" his index beckons you, "would you do a favour for me? - with recompensation, of course," he grins.

commissions, support: ko-fi 🍥

[3lectricinsomnia]

Adventure gone wrong (more details below cut)

When he was 16, he got trapped after part of a cave collapsed on top of him. He was under there for hours until his family managed to break through and pull him out. He was hospitalized and in a coma for a few weeks.

This incident is one of the reasons why Eris’s soul bonds with him so quickly

[edwardallenpoe]

Um. Prepare yourself for the s&co episode. The representation (if you can even call it that) of DID is BAD. Once I realized that the person had DID I was pretty pissed to say the least. I emailed them like 4 paragraphs on how shitty that was. I feel like a Karen but it was honestly deserved. But if you’re upset by portrayals of people with DID I��d skip this one.

i opened my inbox this right after listening to it. Thank you for the heads up tho, but it is far too late.

I honestly feel a little sick. Not gonna lie.

"we now understand more about the human condition" I lost braincells, John. I think we actually DEVOLVED. We LOST knowledge of human existence with this one, chat. And then. Also. John defending Tory's. Ya this was a really fucking bad episode. Wow. It was so avoidable. That entire thing was so avoidable.

You are definitely not a Karen for emailing them, I'm low-key tempted to email them myself but I won't. I need to process that dumpster fire for a little longer. Wow.

It's like. I specifically remember Sherlock listing off DID on his disorder list in the first fucking episode. He has DID. Did Joel and co literally look up the index for the DMS-5 then put them in their notes app or something?????? Like were they just like "yeah anything and everything but PTSD for the plot mate" just for Sheelock to have smt to say?????? It's seems so impossible to me that they have such amazing rep for both PTSD and autism and such but DID was butchered that badly. Woooow. I can't even.

I love this show but that was. So bad. I rlly hope Joel says smt soon about this because woooow . That's all I can rlly say. Just wow.

[mother-of-houseplants-2]

yes & no // natalie vee, wondersmithinc // part one

[siblingdisasters]

Loser little brother who finds out his older sister is a sex worker and begs her to help him lose his virginity so people at school will stop making fun of him for it

Afterwards they're both really disgusted by what they did, and even more disgusted by how good it felt. The brother needs more and starts making up all sorts of things he's getting teased for not having done with a girl by people at school and offering his sister more and more money each time so it's not like she can say no even though she absolutely hates it every time, even as her brother gets more and more into it each time and more and more desperate for his sister until finally he gives up and rapes her, but by that point she's so disgusted and resigned to her brother's creepyness she just lets it happen

Is this anything?

[mad-hunts]

JACK MATHIS, THE CONTORTIONIST — expert thief and fauceur of the mathis family.

[trashedump]

I wanna see murder link and yona being best friends 🥺

u mean like this?

[x--sinner--x]

Has anyone ever felt like ruining the peace of someone else just because you can? I am looking right at my two little dolls, who I managed to kidnap a few days ago, and they are sleeping peacefully as the air blows past their naked bodies which are chained against the wall.

It really makes me want to stomp on their tiny little bodies and push my feet against their stupid cunts until they squirt all over the cold floor, begging me to stop. I just want to ruin their pretty faces and see blood trickle down from their bodies due to all the torment. Fuck I feel euphoric when I hurt my kidnapped dolls.

Ughhhh..... fuck my thoughts are going overboard again....

[kiame-sama]

How would Evan react if his darling's parents were police?

- Aww, it's sweet that you think police can do anything to him. He is part of honest organized crime, he pays the police to shut their mouths and look the other way. Even if his darling's parents are of decent rank, the ones Evan has in his pockets are even higher and he can get rid of them or their jobs in a blink. The ones he controls are so far out of reach that no one is going to question them.

- Odds are, his darling's parents would never know that he took them. They wouldn't be able to do anything and they wouldn't be able to interfere if they ever figured out Evan is the perpetrator.

- If push comes to shove, Evan is not above getting rid of them permanently to keep you by his side. He will not tolerate getting anything or anyone between you, regardless of who he has to remove to keep you with him.

[bumpsyp1ains]

the story of how whisper became the “corrupted canine.”

[jadienjaystoriesandart]

A Father of Spores

Summary: Grian hasn’t been feeling himself since coming out of the decontamination room. Though he has a clean health, and no more shrooms are growing on or out of him, he still feels weird all over. He keeps hearing Scar’s voice too, but the man isn’t any where to be seen. And Mumbo has him staying away from the main areas where the resistance has been hitting, as par for the course after exposure. But, that didn’t stop Cub from paying him a visit. 

Warnings: Mentions of Body Modification, Brainwashing, Body Horror, Corruption, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Cannibalism, and Altered Reality.

No Beta lol, give into the spores please.

-

The usual after decontamination was a period of which one had to quarantine away from any and all forms of the mycelium. Which meant Grian was stuck in his simple house away from the main area of infection, which was mostly the outskirts and inner city. Luckily his area was mostly untouched, and made for some time he could gather his thoughts. Truth be told he didn’t remember alot of it. Mumbo was being vague on purpose, so he could only guess it was bad. His arms and back were healing up fine at least, no more shrooms growing out of them. And he was taking it slow for the time until the week was up to head back to work, once they were sure all signs of infection were gone. 

It was... dull, boring, going on day 3 with Grian doing a movie marathon of the Scooby Doo films... they were bad but in a cringy good way. He was also was watching Mystery Incorporated, and trying to keep his mind off things as he petted his cats. Lately it’s been.. odd, he swears he hears Scar’s voice in his house. But, each time he turns around, no one is there, and not a sign of spores in sight.

Maybe he really is starting to lose it? Maybe it’s a prolonged effect of after exposure? He had heard altered state of mind was a common side effect for a few days, so... he tried not to let it get to him. 

He finished peeling the potatoes for a pot roast he was making, getting started on cutting them into 4′s when there was a knock at his door.

“Hm?” Grian looked up confused, could that be Mumbo? Maybe even Impulse or Doc coming to check on him? The latter was more likely as Mumbo knew better than to go to someone during quarantine period, he was target number one after all. Washing his hands quickly, as another knock was heard, he walked over to the door.

Opening the door after turning the lock, Grian looked outside, and felt his inside turn cold at the sight before him. 

Green and black fugus like stuff ran up the side of his face, creating these horns that poked out from black hair. The eyes were pure black with blue orbs looking at Grian, glowing blue shrooms grew out the side of the face as well and along his shoulders.  Cub smiled brightly at Grian, “Helloooo Grian.” he said cheerfully to him, the horns flicking a bit like cat ears.

SLAM!

Grian had his back to the door his heart rate rising as he looked startled a bit in disbelief. He stood there in shock, staring at the ground. For a second, he wondered if he had imagined it.

More knocking behind him as it vibrated through his back. “Grian.” Cub’s voice said, “I promise I won’t make more shrooms grow in your walls or couch. I just came to talk.” his tone almost a slight whine to it, playful and teasing.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Grian groaned in annoyance as he stood up again and opened the door again peering at Cub around the corner. Cub was smiling brightly at him still, despite the stuff growing out of his skin and face, the smile was the same as Grian remembered it. Opening the door fully Grian sighed, “... Don’t try anything.” he grumbled before allowing Cub inside. He was an idiot, but frankly he knew Cub could force his way in if he wanted. So, civil was the best course of action, and calling the cops wouldn’t do shit, as that last time the happen Scar infected them all. 

Cub walked in and did take off his muddy shoes in the mud room, Grian closed the door again, but didn’t lock it just in case. He looked at Cub who was petting on his cat, she didn’t seem to mind purring away happy to see him again. Cub smiled at Grian, “I’ve missed you.” he told him, “Didn’t mean to be gone so long, or cause you to get a new couch before then.” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head with a fanged smile.

Shifted a bit Grian made a face, “Darn well better be, that was a good leather couch.” he grumbled a bit as Cub did laugh, it... sounded off, it was Cub’s voice but also distorted a bit. He looked at the other and sighed heavily, “Hungry?” he asked him curiously, trying to keep calm and even voice.

The horns flicked as Cub perked up, “A bit, any meats will work, or anything mushroom and vegetable related.” he said walking with Grian to the kitchen taking a seat at one of the bar stools. 

“Mushroom related?’ Grian asked confused as he put the potatoes into the pot. 

Shrugging, Cub leaned on the counter, Grian was gonna have to disinfect things again. “I mean, fungus is cannibalistic by nature, we eat dead things, even other dead shrooms.” he explained. “well, it’s not really ‘cannibalism’ as we don’t have the same moral standing as most humans. Just a way of life really.”

Grian hummed at that looking intrigued  as he put the pot on high and sat across from Cub. This felt painfully familiar, days and nights they spent together when dating just chatting and laughing. Before Cub got infected, before he fell off the face of the earth for 6 months and came back... looking like this. 

“Been a long time, huh?” Cub smiled at him calmly, “I’ve missed our nights together, Scar likes hearing me talk about you. He really likes you.” he chuckled faintly as Grian looked at Cub with sad yet curious brown eyes. His feathers shifted a bit as the faint sound of chuckling was in his head, but it was gone as quick as he heard it. 

A pause in the air as Cub hummed faintly, “he wants to see you again,” he said slowly, “the father I mean, Scar, he wants to get to know you on a personal bases, as I talk to highly of you.” 

Grian said nothing as Cub watched him without blinking, in fact the other didn’t see to blink at all. A moment, before Cub continued, a sad, and quiet sigh escaping his mouth. “I wasn’t forced like this Grian.” he said, as it shattered the silence like glass, and Grian was now looking at him with wide eyes. Cub gave a sad smile, “I was very willing.” 

Wide, and shocked brown eyes looked at Cub, that... that couldn’t be true! He remembered Cub being among the ones that went missing when the Father Spore had made his appearance, after he infected the building Cub had been working in. The day he came back, stumbling and a bit dazed in Grian’s door and near contaminated the whole house beyond repair... before vanishing again. 

“I know, hard to believe.” Cub said calmly with a shrug, “but I’m not lying, i have no real reason to lie like this. Trust me, the brainwashed ones are obvious compared to ones like me. We are gifted with more freedom of will, our thoughts are more our own, but we are still connected to The Father.” he explained to Grian messing with one of the shrooms on his arm. As he did so it did spew out some blue powder, which Cub cleaned up from the counter. 

Ones like Cub couldn’t produced heavily spore pollen like Scar, but he was still contagious through contact. Even more so than some of the others infected, but Sculk was a very advance form of fungus that grew in the darkest parts of the world. 

Chewing on his lower lip for a moment, Grian narrowed his eyes at the table, the silence stretched as this info sank in. “Why?” he finally asked after a long moment of his thoughts swirling around, taking in the fact Cub, his Cub, became this monster like creature.

Another shrug, Cub sat up a it, “The Father isn’t just some guy infected with overgrown mushrooms Grian... he’s something much more powerful and more than a mere man now. He’s the new age coming, of which all will be either connected or food.” he said in a matter of fact tone. Then a grin, “I know sounds very ‘Cultish’ doesn’t it? But it’s the honest truth, Scar speaks often of his plans to me, of how not all will be infected, but used to spread the spores with their decaying bodies.”

Another round of insides being dunked in cold water, Grian swallowed hard at that. They had.. suspected that was the plan, given some were killed by Scar and found with lots of mycelium and shrooms growing out of their dead bodies. But, to hear it from a source, it just made it all the more scary. 

“I was tired Grian,” Cub looks out the nearby window in thought, “I loved you so much, but other parts of my life were just so dull. I felt like I was doing things on a loop, and felt empty without you or other connections.” He seemed lost in thought for a moment then a faint smile, “Then I met Scar, he broke into the building, and spoke in a charming voice. He was cunning, threatening, but gentle and so calm. The building was over run with spores, mycelium, and Scar gave all us a choice. To accept his gift, or be the example.” 

Grian stared at that as Cub stared outside at the darkness, there were many bodies that day, all taken over by mushrooms, that area was still under heavy rules, no one was allowed inside it. It was a prime area to be infected, and the process to get rid of it was slow and with little fruition. Thus it was blocked off from the general public. 

“I accepted to go with him, me a very few others. I was actually the first to speak up that I’d go. On the promise of a new start, something more...” Cub spoke again catching Grian’s attention again. “He was so... gentle Gri, he cupped my face, smiled at me so lovingly, and promised all that and more.” a near whisper, reverently, and in so much awe. 

Cub looked back at Grian, “He took me to his home, the resistance base as you know it, and carefully helped me through the process. It was scary at first, I won’t lie, but the results are worth it.” his eyes almost glowed, “We are a part of him, and he of us. We are his children, Grian...” he reached out, but paused looking at up Grian with longing, loving, and pleading eyes. “I want you a part of us too, Gri, to feel like this. Loved, cherished, wanted.” 

They stared at each other for a long moment, before there was a hissing sound, Grian turned and swore rushing to the stove as he turned it down before it could mess up the burner. Once he was sure it wasn’t going to boil over, Grian looked at the contents in the pot, eyes narrowed a bit as Cub’s words rang in his head over and over again. 

Cub was clearly infected badly, but, he spoke so highly of how he was now. The idea of what Scar wanted in the end was terrifying. Though he could picture it clearly, the grass gone, now a soft purplish grey, perhaps a few more trees here and there, tall shrooms also that grew, the air cleaner and clearer than it ever had been. 

‘What a beautiful imagine, no?’

Scar’s voice in his head as Grian gripped the handles of the pot tighter. He frowned a bit, before getting out some food for him and Cub. Placing the bowl in front of his old flame, who didn’t take his eyes off him once. 

For a while they ate in silence, Grian messing with the food and Cub adding a mushroom to his happily. Then he spoke up, “I don’t know Cub,” he admits after a long moment, “I... just don’t know.” 

His thoughts were jumbled, a mess, and he just wasn’t sure. He was afraid, scared of what he’d become, repulsed by the idea of letting mushrooms grow out of him. But the way Cub spoke of it, a painful longing. What would being loved like that taste like? What would it feel like? To be cherished so easily? he had felt that with Cub, and in that moment in the office with Scar. And, Grian would be a liar if he said he didn’t want that. 

‘I could give you all that and more, my song bird.’

Cub finished eating and smiled at him, “you don’t need to answer right now Grian.” he said gently to him, “The Father can wait, even though you might see him later.” he smiled, then paused, “Oh... wasn’t suppose to say that.” he said.

“What?’ Grian looked at cub, “What do you mean? What is he planning?’

Shaking his head, Cub stood, “Can’t say Grian, secret and all,” a teasing wink, “if you joined us though, I could tell you so much more. All I’ve found out about what we are.”

A glared from Grian, as Cub smirked at him, “But for now,” his eyes gleamed over green and his voice changed, “tell no one you saw us here, little bird.” 

Grian froze at that, eyes widening... he felt like something fogged over his mind and he nodded to Cub. Cub smiled at that, eyes turning back to blue, he bent down for a moment, “Until then my flower.” he ghosted his lips over Grian, but didn’t touch them. And slowly pulled back from the dazed bird turning and leaving.

It wasn’t until the door clicked shut did Grian blink back into awareness. He looked around at the empty bowl, and some of the sculk on his counter. He felt... sad that Cub was gone, and he was alone again. 

Sighing after a moment, Grian got up to start disinfecting the counters and bleaching the bowl. His mind lost in thought as he went through the motions.

Maybe if he wasn’t distracted by his thoughts, he might have noticed when he moved, his body who puff out these faint purple spores. Or might have also noticed that the blue of his feathers was turning a bit purple as well. 

[the-magpie-archives]

MAG 6 - 'Squirm' - Speculations on parasitic infection.

This statement has many interesting aspects, but one that catches my attention is the subtle details of just how Prentiss's parasites seem to infect.

Harriet says she felt like she was stabbed, but doesn't mention worms or obvious rot on Prentiss, which would have been noticeable even in a moment of shock. This, and the fact that she wasn't wounded implies that the spreading of the sickness is not only caused by the worms.

From their description, Prentiss's worms are more like larvae than your standard worm, and the thing about larvae is that the eggs they emerge from are small, delicate. Anyone that's dealt with maggots knows that you can't just get rid of the maggots, you need to destroy the eggs too, but this brings me to another point.

Because of how delicate the eggs of a fly are, its common for them to lay them on things, and even in things; this is sometimes called flystrike. When I was a child I had a bright green pet caterpillar, I kept him in a jar and fed him leaves, and was so excited for him to turn into a butterfly! He never did though, instead I watched him torn in half from the inside out as fly larvae crawled from his corpse. If a fly laying its eggs under the skin of a caterpillar could do that, imagine what a human could do to another with this mutated, powerful, fear-driven parasite.

Harriet's eventual demise wasn't all that different from that of my pet, but as all things are with humans, it was undeniably messier. This dramatic end also puts me in mind of Ohiocordyceps unilateralis, more commonly known as the zombie ant fungus. After its host has served its purpose it very dramatically blooms, spreading the infection further to keep its species alive.

The parasite being spread by intercourse implies that either extended physical contact or transfer of bodily fluid can also cause infection. To me it makes more sense that it's fluids, as I think Timothy Hodge would have noticed anything physical, he seemed to be quite perceptive. The parasite being spread by fluids is interesting, as that could mean it has more fungus-like properties and spreads it's spores through the bloodstream, thereby affecting everything else.

This would mean that the methods of infection are: transfer of bodily fluid, flystrike, and the traditional worm burrowing. Correlating it as best I can, it seems to me that the worms exist as both parasite and fungus- something obviously not possible in reality, but definitely pleasing to the otherworldly fear entity of rot and filth!

Prentiss, as the source of it all, seems to have the ability to plant the eggs, which in turn can grow the worms. Whilst a host grows these perhaps the spores inside of them can spread others that they become physical with. I like to think that then the spores could grow and change into the worms, which in turn can infest others, leaving spores to create even more, creating the perfect flesh hive.

[shittyleitnerideas]

Corruption Leitner that brings an unholy number of mosquitoes to your location.

no actually i dont want that

[tripletroubleposts]

Adding this from the future: guys don't look at this I went insane

No this is so real. -🐶 <3

You were the one who I was most worried about not liking it so I'll post this for everyone, might as well contribute XD (redacted your name for privacy btw)

I need him so bad fuuuuuck

I know my brain is fucked up, has been since 4th grade but gods I wanna find him, stalk him and watch him through security cameras and later through his windows. Then I wanna break into his house, maybe sneak through his window while he's sleeping, steal a pair of boxers or a shirt he's recently worn... then I want to kidnap him, have him locked up in a beautiful lavish home far away from civilization with everything he could want if he could just love me. He'd struggle at first and honestly I want him to. I want him to back away from me for it to just be a wall or corner. Nowhere to run. Just fucking love me. Please it's almost like you're not real why does no one think he's amazing like I do. When he eventually comes around, I'd love for us to do cosplays together ❤️ he would be soap or **** and I could be Roach or a young pirate boy. If it really went well I would go for V**** next. I haven't really watched him lately but I remember his voice. I remember how they made me feel. Now that I think about it I'm probably not gonna post this but this is crazy. Is this how people with celebrity crushes feel? I've never been good with romance so idk. I think I need to make a character ai or Chai of this tiktoker or I'll go insane. Fuuck I need him so cute so mine pls please so mine? Please? Fuck his cute little waist and dubious sex. This little freak has captivated me. I'm like 90% he's trans.

Editor's note: I figured out he was just a twinky cis guy with a silly haircut and not, in fact, transmasculine. I still love him, of course, but I got a hit to my ego. Censored out the other person he could be/cosplay as it's an unpopular character that would make it too easy to find him. Also censored out V name.

Also, if you figure out who this is about, DO NOT send this to them or make them aware of this.

[mad-hunts]

this is a random late night thought, i know, but i'm just thinking about how the orderlies in arkham must react to finding barton cuddling with his bunkie in the morning if they had a nightmare orrr they both needed to get warm (like i believe i've mentioned previously on here before). like, idk what gave me this impression, but for those of them that just don't give a shit about their job rather than the abusive a-holes (i honestly feel like these are the two main categories of orderlies that work at arkham, NGL)...

i really do feel like they'd do something like place bets between themselves as to whether they think something is going on between certain inmates or not. and when they're either proven right or wrong, they exchange the money they bet on it. because these people unfortunately could not care less about the fact that in barton's case (and possibly in other's cases), he literally does it as a means of survival / to have a source of comfort most of the time because that place is god awful

[bones-and-earth]

It’s laughable really…

The fact the man I dated for 7 years trying to give the benefit of the doubt to, the man who repeatedly SA’d me and gaslit me- is in school for criminal justice to either become a cop or detective.

This man has defended cops, abused me, demonized those with mental illnesses and neurodiversities (Including me who he has known for 11 years such as assuming I am a very strong threat because of intrusive thoughts and experiences with psychosis) and called people cringey for caring about political and social issues. I fear what he might do.

He is one of the many reasons I “won’t shut up” about issues like these.

Is this man is dumb enough to believe schools have full on liter boxes for students in every school now he is dumb enough to believe other lies.

He someone who has exploited other’s weaknesses and done horrible things-is willfully ignorant that he is choosing to work for a system that is easily exploited to the point it is corrupted.