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Final Chapter!

Satisfaction Brought it Back from Cats Outta the Bag

Mature. Final chapter of my randomly assigned Halloween prompt project. TW: Violence and gore.

*****Preview*****

“Hey there, little one,” Mike cooed softly, petting her head. “Did you fall down the hatch and hurt yourself? I’m sorry I left it open.”

Of course, she could not respond with anything more than a high-pitched meow, and Mike couldn’t help but chuckle.

“That must’ve been your sister,” he said. “I’m sorry about that. I hope there aren’t any more of you. Don’t worry, though; I’ll take care of you. You’re safe with me.”

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Deformed Roses are just as pretty

Yandere! Meruem x Reader

Angst and kinda Fluff

Tw!! Referenced kidnapping, non con touching and kissing, slight suicidal thoughts and yandereness

Word count- 1,500-ish

Monsters can fall in love, you’ve learned. But their love is just as monsterous.

Aka: self-indulgent bc I’m simping for one (1) ninja turtle man, not too proud of the first half but I also spent way to much time on this so-

————————

You furrow your eyebrows, staring at the board in front of you with a concentrated look. The round white and black pieces blink back at you in confusion as you narrow your eyes at them.

Pitou observes you with slight curiosity as you carefully thumb over the piece in your hand, their tail swaying as they slightly cock their head to the side.

They’ve realized that you weren’t playing Gungi by now, so they try to figure out what you’re planning.

You turn your head up at the feeling of eyes watching you fearing the worst, Shaiapouf. Once you see Pitou, however, you relax and go back to what your task.

“Right two spaces? No, that doesn’t work…” You murmur quietly to yourself as you move the pieces off the board.

Pitou blinks before realizing what you’re doing.

“A picture? Can I see?” They ask with a slight smile.

You shake your head.

“Y-you can see it when I’m done.” You say, Pitou nodding their head while you internally curse yourself for stuttering.

You should be used to them by now, but the knowledge that any of these, creatures, for lack of better word, could kill you in an instant leaves you weary.

Pitou had done their best to assure you, that the royal guards wouldn’t hurt you and neither would their king. Strangely, you felt they were telling the truth, but that didn’t mean you wanted to test it.

You realize you’ve been zoning out and go back to work. It’s a turtle funnily enough, reminding you of a certain King who is probably out doing unspeakable acts.

You pull up short at the thought as you eventually finish. It feels wrong, to make something like this, almost as if in his honor, when he behaves like such a monster.

You decide you’ll trash it once you show Pitou.

Speaking of whom, you look up over to them as if to try and telepathically communicate with them that they can come over. You never really liked using your voice ever since you came here, maybe because it was the one thing you felt control over.

Thankfully, they get the message and approach, leaning down to see your drawing.

“Oh! Nyow I see~.” They say mischievously giving you a look as if knowing your thoughts about said King.

Your face flushes beet red and you very pointedly state that you have no idea what they are talking about.

Pitou giggles and you move to push the pieces back off of the board when you hear the sound of footsteps.

You stiffen up, but Pitou doesn’t seem surprised. Probably that weird aura thing that helped them sense her. It still seems like a made up power, and you would continue toe belive that had you not felt the King’s a few times when you “misbehaved”.

Well, speak of the devil and he shall arrive, you suppose as you see the familiar figure of the King. Pitou straightens up to greet him while you stay seated on the floor, fidgeting with your clothes.

The sight of him isn’t as bad as the feeling of his presence echoing through the room, you feel insignificant just existing in the same place as him.

You glance up cautiously to look at him as he waves Pitou away with a low murmur. It’s strange to hear him speak with such a… human voice, you think as you examine him.

You stare at his arms with slight curiousity, you wonder if you touched him it would feel like a hard shell or smooth skin. Well, you weren’t really sure you wanted to find out anyways. Your eyes move from his shoulder, up his neck, to his eyes.

You though his eyes were beautiful, as strange as it was to say that, maybe it was just you being entranced by the unusual color.

A small squeak falls from your mouth, as you realize that those, oh so gorgeous, violet hues are looking back at you. With an embarrassed look on your face, you turn back to the board that you realize you failed to clear.

“What are you doing?” He asks with an amused lilt in his tone.

“Uh-um, I was just… arranging the pieces.”

It’s tense, on your part mainly, when he walks towards you. You can feel your face flush red yet again as he glances at your creation, you hope he won’t realize why you made it.

“A turtle?” He stares at you with the same knowing look as Pitou with a slight smirk as he moves to sit beside you, and a blush comes over your face.

“It’s- um, it’s nothing.” You lie shakily.

You know he hates it when you lie, but you can’t help it this time. It’s too embarrassing to admit, not to mention, shameful to make an image of a killer.

A tense silence envelops you and you can’t help but hope he doesn’t take your head off.

You don’t think you’ve done anything too wrong, but anytime he gets close, you feel like death is hovering next to you. His barbed tail is something to be feared, you’ve seen him smack Shaiapouf in the face with it before. Luckily he was strong enough to take it, if he wasn’t… well, you didn’t want to think about it, even if you didn’t like Pouf that much.

You turn back to the king, seeing puzzlement on his features.

“Is something wrong?” You ask hesitantly.

He glances back to you, eyes filled with an emotion you can’t make out. You’re sure he couldn’t either.

“I’m, feeling something strange.” He says looking at you as if you hold the answer.

“Um, what kind of feeling is it?”

“It’s warm, too warm, I feel dizzy as if I’m coming down with an illness, my heart is speeding up. But I, I do not dislike it.”

Your breath hitches, you think you know what feeling this is.

“I do not like it either, it throws my senses into disarray, clawing at me, it makes me restless.” He pauses to look at you. “What is this feeling, (Name)?”

It’s at times like this where you forget the blood and the tears from his victims, when he engages in conversation with curiosity gleaming in his eyes. It makes you forget that he is the reason for making so many suffer.

And that scares you. If you can’t even hate a monster like this, are you even human?

But it’s so strange it makes you halt in your tracks, a monster like him, admitting to you, albeit unknowingly, that he can feel- no that he is in love.

Possibly with that Gungi player, you imagine. You’ve seen how she’s changed him, but you can’t help but fear for her. How would she survive this monster?

But you can’t hide the truth from him, you’ve figured that long ago. If the king wants something, the king will get it.

“That feeling, you’ve probably heard about before, is what us humans call love.”

Silence fills the room, and you can’t help but feel the impending sensation of doom. The image of his tail stabbing into your head sends a shiver down your spine.

He tilts his head pondering, you don’t think he likes your answer. You quietly pray in your mind for a quick painless death.

What he says instead shocks you to your core.

“Love? How pathetic, I should be above such silly urges… but I don’t think I mind (Name), not if it’s you.”

It takes a second to sink in.

“I-wait- what- what are you saying?” You burst out in a panic. Somewhere in your mind a voice faintly scolds you for not addressing him as “your majesty” but you ignore it.

“It should be obvious (Name), I love you.”

“I mean- that’s not- how- how? You can’t!” You burst out, immediately regretting your choice of words.

I can’t?” He asks darkly, tail starting to swing.

“No! It’s not that you can’t! But you just- but you said-“

“You doubt these feelings. You think your king would lie?”

“Ah! No, not at all-“

It’s too late, you feel his temper rising.

A smile breaks out on his face, one with malicious intent behind it, you feel the choking aura building up. Tears fill your eyes, as you desperately try to speak. To say something. To blubber out an apology.

You squeak in terror as he grabs a hold of your waist and pulls you towards him, hands gripping hard enough that you’re sure bruises will form. With a gasp, you find yourself in his lap, legs straddling his waist, hands placed on his chest.

Tears fall down your face as you feel yourself shake in terror. It’s so cold, so hostile, you think you’ll go insane if you have to bear the pressure of his aura for any longer.

You can’t even breathe, it scares you too much, you’d accept death if it meant getting away from this, this monster. Eternal fear is what you’re experiencing, its too much, you’re starting to feel light headed.

How could this be love? You had to be wrong.

“Ple- please-“ You manage to stutter out, trying to push against his chest.

You’re not even sure whether you’re begging him to lift his aura, for him to tell you what he wants or simply for him to kill you.

He says nothing, but his other arm shifts to hold you while the other gently cradles your cheek.

It’s such a stark contrast to his threatening aura you almost laugh.

Suddenly, he slams his lips onto yours, making you gasp in surprise. His tongue slips in exploring your mouth. You don’t bother to try and fight, the fear pulsing through you being enough to keep you still.

All you can do is grip onto his shoulders to try and anchor yourself to reality. His arms do feel like hard shells, you distantly realize.

The aura starts to ease as the kiss progresses, making you sag slightly in relief. Weakly you attempt to push away from him, trying to get oxygen back into your body.

He lets out a low growl, causing you to stiffen up, before finally letting you go. Gasping sobs escape your mouth as you greedily attempt to gulp down air.

“So fragile.” He murmurs stroking your head gently.

You sniffle, lifting your arm to wipe away the stray tears rolling down your face.

Was it over? Were you ok now?

“(Name).” You snap your eyes up, wary of his emotions.

Do you doubt my love now?” He asks, eyes hardening.

This time, you just shake your head no.

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I’m worried about Sandra. She has been acting out a lot lately. I understand teenage angst but this is ridiculous. She has been moody and loud; she can barely look me in the eye anymore and she spends so much time in her room, I fear for her hygiene. She’s always been a very social girl but ever since her school’s security guard passed on she’s been…different. Frankly it’s been getting on my nerves.

So I decided to do something about it.

I wish I hadn’t.

I should feel horrible for snooping but I feel worse about what I found.

In the back of her closet I found a bulletin board overflowing with newspaper clippings. They dated back over fifteen years.

They were mine. My murders. Over a hundred of them at least. She figured me out when only one other person has. Or at least she thinks she has. She’s found a connection and sooner or later she’s going to connect it back to me.

Obviously I can’t kill her – not yet anyway – but I have to do something. I’m going to talk to James tonight to see if we can find a solution but I’m really worried about Sandra.

I honestly never wanted the kids to have to find out about my double life. A parent’s darkness should not overshadow their child.

That’s pretty deep; someone should write that down.

Anyways, I hope that Sandra doesn’t connect the dots any more than she has.

For her sake and for mine.

And for Jason’s sake as well, I suppose. Eventually Sandra’s going to tell him what she knows and I’m afraid he’s going to take it out on James. Men – boys – tend to go after their father figures and James is the only one Jason has ever had, even before his mother went up the creek. I’d hate for him to lose that and I just know that Jason would find a way to blame him.

Boys.

So really it’s in the best interest of my entire family if Sandra doesn’t take her little Nancy Drew act any further. I just hope I can find a peaceful solution.

Pray for me.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

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TW: suicide, violence, current events in the US


My friend’s friend, a well-known and widely-liked kid at our school, killed himself due to mental health issues hugely exacerbated by school. They put up a bunch of “in remembrance” stuff, and nothing really changed.

They ask why we hate the schools.


POC are killed by the police at a disproportionately high rate. They splash it all over the news, and nothing is really changed.

They ask why we hate the police.


Trump is systematically working to take away rights from already marginalized groups. Nothing is changed, and what is changed is for the worse.

They ask why we hate Trump.


The right-wing says they shouldn’t appoint a supreme court judge in an election year. They proceed to appoint a judge in an election year, because they know it will benefit them in their quest to strip minority groups of rights. This is the most conservative supreme court the US has seen since before WWII. Nothing will be changed, and what will be changed for many years will be for the worse.

They ask why we hate the system.

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Mercenaries & Missionaries by SpellCleaver

Inej is a spy for the cause she believes in, Kaz is the smuggler she has bad blood with, Wylan and Matthias just defected, Nina’s the last survivor of her order, and Jesper doesn’t know what he’s doing. When they team up against the Empire, things go as well as can be expected.

The characters from the Grishaverse put into a Galaxy Far Far Away. No need to have seen Star Wars to read or understand this fic.

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@copycaat​​ ||  Send me a “ 🔥 “ for an unpopular opinion.

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image

For a community built around a shonen manga about FIGHTING NINJA WITH MAGIC POWERS, I don’t see nearly enough Fight Threads or character USING said magic powers.

Like, let your character punch people. Let some one rip an arm off and beat someone else with it. Set someone on fire in the middle of a war and slip in blood trying to dodge an attack. Let someone beat the absolute shit out of your character in a training sequence and have your character be grateful for it because an actual enemy would have just killed them. 

We RP as fucking assassins and murderers and thieves; let your characters be those things. It’s literally what they do for a living, even if the Naruto series sort of gives us the ‘pretty side’ of it after the Wave Mission. Your favorite character does fucked up shit as part of their job.

More so, slice-of-life threads and shipping and friendship are great!! But like, I barely see peeps using ninjutsu in threads, despite that being as main draw of the setting the characters are from. Or genjutsu!!! Let your character breath fire and summon wacky creatures and make someone believe they’re eternally lost in a field of daisies using chakra magic. 

Use the cool shit canon gave you and make even cooler shit in your threads using it! The Naruto series is dark in a lot of ways, and while its fine to explore the lighter stuff, you appreciate the good more when you also know there’s bad stuff to contrast it imo.

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I have decided that I am not going to let Heather’s death or my possible impending doom deter me from celebrating my favourite holiday. I want to be able to hang bodies in some stranger’s front yard and record their screams as my lullaby.

I’m just kidding. I’m dark, just not that kind of dark. I generally fall asleep to the sound of my husband snoring, and occasionally some white noise. The swinging dead bodies is real though – and they definitely scream.

When I was young, I always assumed that horror movies just had bare-breasted women screaming for the sake of the drama but I can tell you from years of experience: people do actually scream when they see a dead body. Full body, trembling shrieks. I will admit, hearing it and knowing I’m the cause of such an intense emotion, does fill me with no short amount of pleasure. It’s the closest I’m going to get screaming fans of my work; I might as well enjoy it.

Which brings me to my latest hobby: ancient serial killers.

I’ve always knows that so long as there were people in the world to murder, there were murderers to act out those deeds, but I have never taken the time to actually look into who those people were. It’s actually quite fascinating.

A favourite of mine is this guy from Greek mythology (I think his name was Sinestro – no, that’s a Green Lantern villain…whatever). He would meet a man on the road and then when they branched off, he’d circle around and catch the man by surprise, leading him deep into the woods. There, he had pulled two trees to the ground so their trunks were bent inwards, and he tied the man’s arms to one tree and his legs to the other. Then, he released the bent trees so they flung apart, the man was cleaved in half.

How. Cool. Is that?

I have no idea how I would work the mechanics in modern times but isn’t that so cool? I want to try it but I don’t know where I’d find bendy tress this time of year.

The other thing you discover in these ancient and medieval tales, is how sexist everyone was. All the time. And I’m well aware that a lot of ancient mythology is tainted by the western overrun of Christianity and Christian views of women were less than stellar. Are less than stellar. But the amount of stories I found about women who poisoned their husbands for money and power…it’s hardly news. Or the women who jump from husband to husband because they can’t make up their minds. I read about a woman tried for witchcraft who escaped persecution, so they arrested her son and her best friend instead. The friend was burnt at the stake in her place while her son was given a list of good deeds to perform and when he couldn’t, he was flogged and sent home.

There is a part of me that is so grateful for all the women who burnt at the stake or were painted as floozies throughout history because they paved the way for me and other women to live our lives a little better.

It’s still really shitty, all the things they went through just to get here. And here isn’t particularly great either.

I guess all I can hope is that when it’s Casey’s turn to take up the long-held tradition, the world will be a little better for her.

Maybe by then, there’ll be more bendy trees so I can eviscerate a man with the help of mother nature.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

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Murderous mood, my thoughts heavy in black black blood. I want to crush her skull against tile floor. Tear out his nails and cut him deep, leave him there to suffer for a week and then drill a hole in his head and watch the brain spill out.

Nobody hurts my love and lives.

But only in my head. I sit here helpless with all my anger around me not enough place for it in my body it feels the entire room and I just want to scream my throat raw and STAB

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