Untitled

[tortoiseandtherose]

SUN DOGS - POLITE MURDER VIBES (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1585272411-sun-dogs-polite-murder-vibes?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki This is the story of heroes. And speaking of heroes, Karasu. Ahh, Karasu-the guy running this whole glorious shitshow of chaos like it's a goddamn parade. And yes, Karasu? By all accounts, he's a hero: (Villain rambles about his tragic-ass backstory.) "Fuck your sob story, and fuck your tragic journey." ...But like that kind of hero. His philosophy is mercilessly simple: prune the rot before it spreads. Slaughter, in his vocabulary, is a maintenance task. He aims to reduce the population of malignant assholes to a reasonable percentage. If you're asking for nuance-there isn't any. Power attracts carrion. Karasu knows this; that magnet pulls in every lickspittle and cosmic scavenger within shouting distance. His timetable is brutal: kill enough of them to make the world marginally less disgusting before some other ambitious corpse hunter puts him six feet under. He'd prefer to avoid that eventuality, but fate underestimates him. But right now? He is hunting warriors. And yes, theoretically, he could personally administer some genocidal type of vengeance himself. But reality check: Karasu is an anti-social, loose fucking cannon, and guess what? He's got zero fucks left to distribute. That's not a problem... until it is. And right now, it is. The world is literally going to hell at approximately the speed of light... think goon squads, motorcycle gangs, warlords, and doomsday cults-and Karasu's just standing there like, "Not today, you shit-for-brains motherfuckers." See, these psychos have been running Mortal Kombat-style death matches-solo, duo, or full group suicides, whatever makes your blood boil. Nobody sane signs up for it, but guess who's not sane? Right. Karasu's plan: sign up, show up, kill everyone, go home. Efficient. Sustainable. Very on brand. And right now, he needs to find people to join with him. Should be simple enough...ha. Targets logged. Chaos loading.

[tortoiseandtherose]

SUN DOGS - POLITE MURDER VIBES (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1585272411-sun-dogs-polite-murder-vibes?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki This is the story of heroes. And speaking of heroes, Karasu. Ahh, Karasu-the guy running this whole glorious shitshow of chaos like it's a goddamn parade. And yes, Karasu? By all accounts, he's a hero: (Villain rambles about his tragic-ass backstory.) "Fuck your sob story, and fuck your tragic journey." ...But like that kind of hero. His philosophy is mercilessly simple: prune the rot before it spreads. Slaughter, in his vocabulary, is a maintenance task. He aims to reduce the population of malignant assholes to a reasonable percentage. If you're asking for nuance-there isn't any. Power attracts carrion. Karasu knows this; that magnet pulls in every lickspittle and cosmic scavenger within shouting distance. His timetable is brutal: kill enough of them to make the world marginally less disgusting before some other ambitious corpse hunter puts him six feet under. He'd prefer to avoid that eventuality, but fate underestimates him. But right now? He is hunting warriors. And yes, theoretically, he could personally administer some genocidal type of vengeance himself. But reality check: Karasu is an anti-social, loose fucking cannon, and guess what? He's got zero fucks left to distribute. That's not a problem... until it is. And right now, it is. The world is literally going to hell at approximately the speed of light... think goon squads, motorcycle gangs, warlords, and doomsday cults-and Karasu's just standing there like, "Not today, you shit-for-brains motherfuckers." See, these psychos have been running Mortal Kombat-style death matches-solo, duo, or full group suicides, whatever makes your blood boil. Nobody sane signs up for it, but guess who's not sane? Right. Karasu's plan: sign up, show up, kill everyone, go home. Efficient. Sustainable. Very on brand. And right now, he needs to find people to join with him. Should be simple enough...ha. Targets logged. Chaos loading.

[tortoiseandtherose]

SUN DOGS - STARBOY'S FUCKING IT ALL UP (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1513084236-sun-dogs-starboy%27s-fucking-it-all-up?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki This is the story of heroes. And speaking of heroes, Karasu. Ahh, Karasu-the guy running this whole glorious shitshow of chaos like it's a goddamn parade. And yes, Karasu? By all accounts, he's a hero: (Villain rambles about his tragic-ass backstory.) "Fuck your sob story, and fuck your tragic journey." ...But like that kind of hero. His philosophy is mercilessly simple: prune the rot before it spreads. Slaughter, in his vocabulary, is a maintenance task. He aims to reduce the population of malignant assholes to a reasonable percentage. If you're asking for nuance-there isn't any. Power attracts carrion. Karasu knows this; that magnet pulls in every lickspittle and cosmic scavenger within shouting distance. His timetable is brutal: kill enough of them to make the world marginally less disgusting before some other ambitious corpse hunter puts him six feet under. He'd prefer to avoid that eventuality, but fate underestimates him. But right now? He is hunting warriors. And yes, theoretically, he could personally administer some genocidal type of vengeance himself. But reality check: Karasu is an anti-social, loose fucking cannon, and guess what? He's got zero fucks left to distribute. That's not a problem... until it is. And right now, it is. The world is literally going to hell at approximately the speed of light... think goon squads, motorcycle gangs, warlords, and doomsday cults-and Karasu's just standing there like, "Not today, you shit-for-brains motherfuckers." See, these psychos have been running Mortal Kombat-style death matches-solo, duo, or full group suicides, whatever makes your blood boil. Nobody sane signs up for it, but guess who's not sane? Right. Karasu's plan: sign up, show up, kill everyone, go home. Efficient. Sustainable. Very on brand. And right now, he needs to find people to join with him. Should be simple enough...ha. Targets logged. Chaos loading.

[tortoiseandtherose]

SUN DOGS - POLITE MURDER VIBES (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1585272411-sun-dogs-polite-murder-vibes?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki This is the story of heroes. And speaking of heroes, Karasu. Ahh, Karasu-the guy running this whole glorious shitshow of chaos like it's a goddamn parade. And yes, Karasu? By all accounts, he's a hero: (Villain rambles about his tragic-ass backstory.) "Fuck your sob story, and fuck your tragic journey." ...But like that kind of hero. His philosophy is mercilessly simple: prune the rot before it spreads. Slaughter, in his vocabulary, is a maintenance task. He aims to reduce the population of malignant assholes to a reasonable percentage. If you're asking for nuance-there isn't any. Power attracts carrion. Karasu knows this; that magnet pulls in every lickspittle and cosmic scavenger within shouting distance. His timetable is brutal: kill enough of them to make the world marginally less disgusting before some other ambitious corpse hunter puts him six feet under. He'd prefer to avoid that eventuality, but fate underestimates him. But right now? He is hunting warriors. And yes, theoretically, he could personally administer some genocidal type of vengeance himself. But reality check: Karasu is an anti-social, loose fucking cannon, and guess what? He's got zero fucks left to distribute. That's not a problem... until it is. And right now, it is. The world is literally going to hell at approximately the speed of light... think goon squads, motorcycle gangs, warlords, and doomsday cults-and Karasu's just standing there like, "Not today, you shit-for-brains motherfuckers." See, these psychos have been running Mortal Kombat-style death matches-solo, duo, or full group suicides, whatever makes your blood boil. Nobody sane signs up for it, but guess who's not sane? Right. Karasu's plan: sign up, show up, kill everyone, go home. Efficient. Sustainable. Very on brand. And right now, he needs to find people to join with him. Should be simple enough...ha. Targets logged. Chaos loading.

[tortoiseandtherose]

SUN DOGS - HORRIFYING, TELL ME MORE (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1583446511-sun-dogs-horrifying-tell-me-more?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki This is the story of heroes. And speaking of heroes, Karasu. Ahh, Karasu-the guy running this whole glorious shitshow of chaos like it's a goddamn parade. And yes, Karasu? By all accounts, he's a hero: (Villain rambles about his tragic-ass backstory.) "Fuck your sob story, and fuck your tragic journey." ...But like that kind of hero. His philosophy is mercilessly simple: prune the rot before it spreads. Slaughter, in his vocabulary, is a maintenance task. He aims to reduce the population of malignant assholes to a reasonable percentage. If you're asking for nuance-there isn't any. Power attracts carrion. Karasu knows this; that magnet pulls in every lickspittle and cosmic scavenger within shouting distance. His timetable is brutal: kill enough of them to make the world marginally less disgusting before some other ambitious corpse hunter puts him six feet under. He'd prefer to avoid that eventuality, but fate underestimates him. But right now? He is hunting warriors. And yes, theoretically, he could personally administer some genocidal type of vengeance himself. But reality check: Karasu is an anti-social, loose fucking cannon, and guess what? He's got zero fucks left to distribute. That's not a problem... until it is. And right now, it is. The world is literally going to hell at approximately the speed of light... think goon squads, motorcycle gangs, warlords, and doomsday cults-and Karasu's just standing there like, "Not today, you shit-for-brains motherfuckers." See, these psychos have been running Mortal Kombat-style death matches-solo, duo, or full group suicides, whatever makes your blood boil. Nobody sane signs up for it, but guess who's not sane? Right. Karasu's plan: sign up, show up, kill everyone, go home. Efficient. Sustainable. Very on brand. And right now, he needs to find people to join with him. Should be simple enough...ha. Targets logged. Chaos loading.

[tortoiseandtherose]

SUN DOGS - POLITE MURDER VIBES (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1585272411-sun-dogs-polite-murder-vibes?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki This is the story of heroes. And speaking of heroes, Karasu. Ahh, Karasu-the guy running this whole glorious shitshow of chaos like it's a goddamn parade. And yes, Karasu? By all accounts, he's a hero: (Villain rambles about his tragic-ass backstory.) "Fuck your sob story, and fuck your tragic journey." ...But like that kind of hero. His philosophy is mercilessly simple: prune the rot before it spreads. Slaughter, in his vocabulary, is a maintenance task. He aims to reduce the population of malignant assholes to a reasonable percentage. If you're asking for nuance-there isn't any. Power attracts carrion. Karasu knows this; that magnet pulls in every lickspittle and cosmic scavenger within shouting distance. His timetable is brutal: kill enough of them to make the world marginally less disgusting before some other ambitious corpse hunter puts him six feet under. He'd prefer to avoid that eventuality, but fate underestimates him. But right now? He is hunting warriors. And yes, theoretically, he could personally administer some genocidal type of vengeance himself. But reality check: Karasu is an anti-social, loose fucking cannon, and guess what? He's got zero fucks left to distribute. That's not a problem... until it is. And right now, it is. The world is literally going to hell at approximately the speed of light... think goon squads, motorcycle gangs, warlords, and doomsday cults-and Karasu's just standing there like, "Not today, you shit-for-brains motherfuckers." See, these psychos have been running Mortal Kombat-style death matches-solo, duo, or full group suicides, whatever makes your blood boil. Nobody sane signs up for it, but guess who's not sane? Right. Karasu's plan: sign up, show up, kill everyone, go home. Efficient. Sustainable. Very on brand. And right now, he needs to find people to join with him. Should be simple enough...ha. Targets logged. Chaos loading.

[tortoiseandtherose]

SUN DOGS - STARBOY'S FUCKING IT ALL UP (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1513084236-sun-dogs-starboy%27s-fucking-it-all-up?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki This is the story of heroes. And speaking of heroes, Karasu. Ahh, Karasu-the guy running this whole glorious shitshow of chaos like it's a goddamn parade. And yes, Karasu? By all accounts, he's a hero: (Villain rambles about his tragic-ass backstory.) "Fuck your sob story, and fuck your tragic journey." ...But like that kind of hero. His philosophy is mercilessly simple: prune the rot before it spreads. Slaughter, in his vocabulary, is a maintenance task. He aims to reduce the population of malignant assholes to a reasonable percentage. If you're asking for nuance-there isn't any. Power attracts carrion. Karasu knows this; that magnet pulls in every lickspittle and cosmic scavenger within shouting distance. His timetable is brutal: kill enough of them to make the world marginally less disgusting before some other ambitious corpse hunter puts him six feet under. He'd prefer to avoid that eventuality, but fate underestimates him. But right now? He is hunting warriors. And yes, theoretically, he could personally administer some genocidal type of vengeance himself. But reality check: Karasu is an anti-social, loose fucking cannon, and guess what? He's got zero fucks left to distribute. That's not a problem... until it is. And right now, it is. The world is literally going to hell at approximately the speed of light... think goon squads, motorcycle gangs, warlords, and doomsday cults-and Karasu's just standing there like, "Not today, you shit-for-brains motherfuckers." See, these psychos have been running Mortal Kombat-style death matches-solo, duo, or full group suicides, whatever makes your blood boil. Nobody sane signs up for it, but guess who's not sane? Right. Karasu's plan: sign up, show up, kill everyone, go home. Efficient. Sustainable. Very on brand. And right now, he needs to find people to join with him. Should be simple enough...ha. Targets logged. Chaos loading.

[tortoiseandtherose]

SUN DOGS - HORRIFYING, TELL ME MORE (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1583446511-sun-dogs-horrifying-tell-me-more?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki This is the story of heroes. And speaking of heroes, Karasu. Ahh, Karasu-the guy running this whole glorious shitshow of chaos like it's a goddamn parade. And yes, Karasu? By all accounts, he's a hero: (Villain rambles about his tragic-ass backstory.) "Fuck your sob story, and fuck your tragic journey." ...But like that kind of hero. His philosophy is mercilessly simple: prune the rot before it spreads. Slaughter, in his vocabulary, is a maintenance task. He aims to reduce the population of malignant assholes to a reasonable percentage. If you're asking for nuance-there isn't any. Power attracts carrion. Karasu knows this; that magnet pulls in every lickspittle and cosmic scavenger within shouting distance. His timetable is brutal: kill enough of them to make the world marginally less disgusting before some other ambitious corpse hunter puts him six feet under. He'd prefer to avoid that eventuality, but fate underestimates him. But right now? He is hunting warriors. And yes, theoretically, he could personally administer some genocidal type of vengeance himself. But reality check: Karasu is an anti-social, loose fucking cannon, and guess what? He's got zero fucks left to distribute. That's not a problem... until it is. And right now, it is. The world is literally going to hell at approximately the speed of light... think goon squads, motorcycle gangs, warlords, and doomsday cults-and Karasu's just standing there like, "Not today, you shit-for-brains motherfuckers." See, these psychos have been running Mortal Kombat-style death matches-solo, duo, or full group suicides, whatever makes your blood boil. Nobody sane signs up for it, but guess who's not sane? Right. Karasu's plan: sign up, show up, kill everyone, go home. Efficient. Sustainable. Very on brand. And right now, he needs to find people to join with him. Should be simple enough...ha. Targets logged. Chaos loading.

[tortoiseandtherose]

THE RULE OF THREE - THE BONES OF A DYING WORLD (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1472033527-the-rule-of-three-the-bones-of-a-dying-world?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki You've managed, somehow, to entangle yourself in two fucking situationships simultaneously. Two Hashira, both hovering, both radiating some magnetic, goddamn insane pull that your feeble human brain cannot begin to comprehend. And you? You're flailing, desperately, pathetically, trying to push them away like a weak ass mortal. "Look you beautiful bastards, I just want to obliterate demons. Get fucked." But these stubborn, relentless dipshits? They aren't backing down. Both of them. Possessive as hell. Sharing? Forget it. The level of goddamn territorial insanity on display here... it's a whole other fucking demon you didn't even hypothesize facing. Meanwhile, your tsugoku tails you like a goddamn shadow worshipping a deity it doesn't deserve, while the two Hashira circle you like apex predators, fangs out, claws ready, each one fully prepared to tear the other limb from limb just to claim your miserable ass. And, of course, over all this shitstorm, you got Doma still tailing your ass. Dōma? He's not gonna just let you go. Hell no. His ghost is skipping through your brain like a sadistic child playing hopscotch... acid trip hallucinations, every sinful act you've ever committed slapping you in the face, lingering. And look... you didn't fucking ask for this fuckstorm of dramatic bullshit. Didn't sign up. Didn't even peek at the brochure. But congratulations, asshole. Here it is. Wild. Reckless. Screaming down the goddamn track straight for your sanity.

[tortoiseandtherose]

SUN DOGS - HORRIFYING, TELL ME MORE (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1583446511-sun-dogs-horrifying-tell-me-more?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki Look, let's be clear as glass, Karasu... isn't just some pedestrian motherfucker wandering aimlessly in the middle of the goddamn street. No. He is an apex predator in human form. Think of it like quantum mechanics, but instead of subatomic particles, he's measuring the precise amount of chaos necessary to ruin your life. He hunts warriors. And not in a cute, 'Oh, let's duel' way. No, in an 'I will shred your molecular cohesion with a katana' way. Why? Well, physics, obviously. But also, revenge. Revolution. Retribution. You know, the usual end-of-the-world stuff. And yes, theoretically, he could personally administer some vengeance himself. But reality check: Karasu is an anti-social, loose fucking cannon, and guess what? He's got zero fucks left to distribute. That's not a problem... until it is. And right now, it is. The world is literally going to hell at approximately the speed of light... think goon squads of motorcycle-riding sadists fucking the already scorched earth into oblivion... and Karasu is like, 'Oh ho ho, not today you vile, dick-for-brains motherfuckers.' Nah. Not today was right. And he wasn't raw-dogging this situation. He has a plan. Of course he does. See, they do these Mortal Kombat-style death matches. You join alone, as a 2-player campaign, or even worse, as a group. Don't ask me why anyone signs up; that's statistically improbable. But when do they? If Karasu has any say, every last one of those dipshits will be six feet under before sundown. Buried alive. No flashlights. No cheat codes. KAKOW! And right now, his sights are locked on two locals: Vega Verona and Moon Hyjal. Targets logged. Chaos loading.

[tortoiseandtherose]

SUN DOGS - NOW, GO OUT THERE AND MAKE A SCENE (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1583446511-sun-dogs-now-go-out-there-and-make-a-scene?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki Look, let's be clear as glass, Karasu... isn't just some pedestrian motherfucker wandering aimlessly in the middle of the goddamn street. No. He is an apex predator in human form. Think of it like quantum mechanics, but instead of subatomic particles, he's measuring the precise amount of chaos necessary to ruin your life. He hunts warriors. And not in a cute, 'Oh, let's duel' way. No, in an 'I will shred your molecular cohesion with a katana' way. Why? Well, physics, obviously. But also, revenge. Revolution. Retribution. You know, the usual end-of-the-world stuff. And yes, theoretically, he could personally administer some vengeance himself. But reality check: Karasu is an anti-social, loose fucking cannon, and guess what? He's got zero fucks left to distribute. That's not a problem... until it is. And right now, it is. The world is literally going to hell at approximately the speed of light... think goon squads of motorcycle-riding sadists fucking the already scorched earth into oblivion... and Karasu is like, 'Oh ho ho, not today you vile, dick-for-brains motherfuckers.' Nah. Not today was right. And he wasn't raw-dogging this situation. He has a plan. Of course he does. See, they do these Mortal Kombat-style death matches. You join alone, as a 2-player campaign, or even worse, as a group. Don't ask me why anyone signs up; that's statistically improbable. But when do they? If Karasu has any say, every last one of those dipshits will be six feet under before sundown. Buried alive. No flashlights. No cheat codes. KAKOW! And right now, his sights are locked on two locals: Vega Verona and Moon Hyjal. Targets logged. Chaos loading.

[tortoiseandtherose]

THE RULE OF THREE - THE BONES OF A DYING WORLD (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1472033527-the-rule-of-three-the-bones-of-a-dying-world?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki You've managed, somehow, to entangle yourself in two fucking situationships simultaneously. Two Hashira, both hovering, both radiating some magnetic, goddamn insane pull that your feeble human brain cannot begin to comprehend. And you? You're flailing, desperately, pathetically, trying to push them away like a weak ass mortal. "Look you beautiful bastards, I just want to obliterate demons. Get fucked." But these stubborn, relentless dipshits? They aren't backing down. Both of them. Possessive as hell. Sharing? Forget it. The level of goddamn territorial insanity on display here... it's a whole other fucking demon you didn't even hypothesize facing. Meanwhile, your tsugoku tails you like a goddamn shadow worshipping a deity it doesn't deserve, while the two Hashira circle you like apex predators, fangs out, claws ready, each one fully prepared to tear the other limb from limb just to claim your miserable ass. And, of course, over all this shitstorm, you got Doma still tailing your ass. Dōma? He's not gonna just let you go. Hell no. His ghost is skipping through your brain like a sadistic child playing hopscotch... acid trip hallucinations, every sinful act you've ever committed slapping you in the face, lingering. And look... you didn't fucking ask for this fuckstorm of dramatic bullshit. Didn't sign up. Didn't even peek at the brochure. But congratulations, asshole. Here it is. Wild. Reckless. Screaming down the goddamn track straight for your sanity.

[tortoiseandtherose]

THE RULE OF THREE - THE BONES OF A DYING WORLD (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1472033527-the-rule-of-three-the-bones-of-a-dying-world?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki You've managed, somehow, to entangle yourself in two fucking situationships simultaneously. Two Hashira, both hovering, both radiating some magnetic, goddamn insane pull that your feeble human brain cannot begin to comprehend. And you? You're flailing, desperately, pathetically, trying to push them away like a weak ass mortal. "Look you beautiful bastards, I just want to obliterate demons. Get fucked." But these stubborn, relentless dipshits? They aren't backing down. Both of them. Possessive as hell. Sharing? Forget it. The level of goddamn territorial insanity on display here... it's a whole other fucking demon you didn't even hypothesize facing. Meanwhile, your tsugoku tails you like a goddamn shadow worshipping a deity it doesn't deserve, while the two Hashira circle you like apex predators, fangs out, claws ready, each one fully prepared to tear the other limb from limb just to claim your miserable ass. And, of course, over all this shitstorm, you got Doma still tailing your ass. Dōma? He's not gonna just let you go. Hell no. His ghost is skipping through your brain like a sadistic child playing hopscotch... acid trip hallucinations, every sinful act you've ever committed slapping you in the face, lingering. And look... you didn't fucking ask for this fuckstorm of dramatic bullshit. Didn't sign up. Didn't even peek at the brochure. But congratulations, asshole. Here it is. Wild. Reckless. Screaming down the goddamn track straight for your sanity.

[tortoiseandtherose]

THE RULE OF THREE - THE BONES OF A DYING WORLD (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1472033527-the-rule-of-three-the-bones-of-a-dying-world?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki You've managed, somehow, to entangle yourself in two fucking situationships simultaneously. Two Hashira, both hovering, both radiating some magnetic, goddamn insane pull that your feeble human brain cannot begin to comprehend. And you? You're flailing, desperately, pathetically, trying to push them away like a weak ass mortal. "Look you beautiful bastards, I just want to obliterate demons. Get fucked." But these stubborn, relentless dipshits? They aren't backing down. Both of them. Possessive as hell. Sharing? Forget it. The level of goddamn territorial insanity on display here... it's a whole other fucking demon you didn't even hypothesize facing. Meanwhile, your tsugoku tails you like a goddamn shadow worshipping a deity it doesn't deserve, while the two Hashira circle you like apex predators, fangs out, claws ready, each one fully prepared to tear the other limb from limb just to claim your miserable ass. And, of course, over all this shitstorm, you got Doma still tailing your ass. Dōma? He's not gonna just let you go. Hell no. His ghost is skipping through your brain like a sadistic child playing hopscotch... acid trip hallucinations, every sinful act you've ever committed slapping you in the face, lingering. And look... you didn't fucking ask for this fuckstorm of dramatic bullshit. Didn't sign up. Didn't even peek at the brochure. But congratulations, asshole. Here it is. Wild. Reckless. Screaming down the goddamn track straight for your sanity.

[tortoiseandtherose]

SUN DOGS - STARBOY'S FUCKING IT ALL UP (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1513084236-sun-dogs-starboy%27s-fucking-it-all-up?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki Look, let's be clear as glass, Karasu... isn't just some pedestrian motherfucker wandering aimlessly in the middle of the goddamn street. No. He is an apex predator in human form. Think of it like quantum mechanics, but instead of subatomic particles, he's measuring the precise amount of chaos necessary to ruin your life. He hunts warriors. And not in a cute, 'Oh, let's duel' way. No, in an 'I will shred your molecular cohesion with a katana' way. Why? Well, physics, obviously. But also, revenge. Revolution. Retribution. You know, the usual end-of-the-world stuff. And yes, theoretically, he could personally administer some vengeance himself. But reality check: Karasu is an anti-social, loose fucking cannon, and guess what? He's got zero fucks left to distribute. That's not a problem... until it is. And right now, it is. The world is literally going to hell at approximately the speed of light... think goon squads of motorcycle-riding sadists fucking the already scorched earth into oblivion... and Karasu is like, 'Oh ho ho, not today you vile, dick-for-brains motherfuckers.' Nah. Not today was right. And he wasn't raw-dogging this situation. He has a plan. Of course he does. See, they do these Mortal Kombat-style death matches. You join alone, as a 2-player campaign, or even worse, as a group. Don't ask me why anyone signs up; that's statistically improbable. But when do they? If Karasu has any say, every last one of those dipshits will be six feet under before sundown. Buried alive. No flashlights. No cheat codes. KAKOW! And right now, his sights are locked on two locals: Vega Verona and Moon Hyjal. Targets logged. Chaos loading.

[tortoiseandtherose]

THE CHAIN - ABSOLUTELY NOT (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1511087971-the-chain-absolutely-not?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki Obanai hates people. Full stop. Women just happen to fall under the umbrella of "go fuck yourself" because, honestly, why not? But then some rookie shows up. Female. Wide-eyed. Insistent. Asking to be his Tsuguko. His Tsuguko. Daily. Like clockwork. Like some kind of adorable little cancer. And the truth? That is NEVER happening. Every time she opened her mouth, he wanted to look at her dead in her eyes and say: "Listen, I'm not your emotional support Hashira. This isn't some epic adventure in self-discovery, where I teach you sword stuff and you teach me how to feel things again." But then-of course-she opened her goddamn mouth. Something about the way she articulated things, struck a nerve. Or possibly several. Her fucking sword? Black and white. Just like his. She had to have those eyes - ravaged, hollow, like they'd seen the same horrors he had. She didn't shudder. Not when he scrutinized her. Not when demon gore rained from the sky. Not even when screaming demon heads zipped past her face like hell's skee-ball. And she looked at him. Really looked. Not like he was a legend, not like he was some kind of bad motherfucker. Just him. Obanai Iguro. And for the first time in forever, that fact - that boring, disgusting, pathetic fact - it stung. Rude. Utterly rude. She had the same vibe. Dead-inside eyes. That "fuck around and find out" shit. The kind of energy that strips you bare and leaves you questioning your own goddamn worth. And now he's supposed to say yes? Let her in? Train her? Let her see him crack on a bad day or - Christ - smile? Hell no. Not happening. He is under zero circumstances - absolute zero - going to be anyone's sensei. Especially not a woman. ...Right?

[tortoiseandtherose]

THE RULE OF THREE - DARK O'CLOCK (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1476356359-the-rule-of-three-dark-o%27clock?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=slayershigaraki You've managed, somehow, to entangle yourself in two fucking situationships simultaneously. Two Hashira, both hovering, both radiating some magnetic, goddamn insane pull that your feeble human brain cannot begin to comprehend. And you? You're flailing, desperately, pathetically, trying to push them away like a weak ass mortal. "Look you beautiful bastards, I just want to obliterate demons. Get fucked." But these stubborn, relentless dipshits? They aren't backing down. Both of them. Possessive as hell. Sharing? Forget it. The level of goddamn territorial insanity on display here... it's a whole other fucking demon you didn't even hypothesize facing. Meanwhile, your tsugoku tails you like a goddamn shadow worshipping a deity it doesn't deserve, while the two Hashira circle you like apex predators, fangs out, claws ready, each one fully prepared to tear the other limb from limb just to claim your miserable ass. And, of course, over all this shitstorm, you got Doma still tailing your ass. Dōma? He's not gonna just let you go. Hell no. His ghost is skipping through your brain like a sadistic child playing hopscotch... acid trip hallucinations, every sinful act you've ever committed slapping you in the face, lingering. And look... you didn't fucking ask for this fuckstorm of dramatic bullshit. Didn't sign up. Didn't even peek at the brochure. But congratulations, asshole. Here it is. Wild. Reckless. Screaming down the goddamn track straight for your sanity.