Marbl3
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Jabber was just so bored of his life. Or, his death, to be more accurate. He squinted idly at the horizon, where tall, looming buildings were rapidly succumbing to nature, the ivy mottling their silhouettes into jagged obelisks. Where he’d come from, and where it all began.
He sat atop the roof of a long abandoned convenience store, in a small town that lay just on the outskirts of the city where the first breakout had gone down. Ground Zero, all the movie nerds called it. Jabber just called it home.
Or, janka zombie apocalypse party time
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It’s a boy around Satoru’s age, with long dark hair tied behind his head, one manicured strand trailing down next to his face.
He holds a large, heavy looking suitcase in one hand and pushes his hair back with the other, tanned arm flexing nervously.Satoru notices him first and knows the second he sees him that he is lost. He stares at the boy across from him; his gaze lined with equal parts trepidation and intrigue.
He’d never seen a guy pull off long hair.Or, Satoru is sent to a catholic conversion camp, and meets a number of people there. Namely Geto Suguru, deep in the throes of self loathing, who Satoru becomes determined to save.
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Suguru’s voice was also, expectably, the same.
“You already heard from Shoko, right?"
Satoru hadn’t wanted to believe it, but the moment he’d heard the words, he’d known they were true. He’d known it was too late. He still couldn’t accept it.
Or,
Suguru’s punishment for his sins is a lifetime of confinement. Satoru misses him too much to let him go.
GUYS DONT READ THIS IM EMBARRASED OF IT BIT I DONT WANNA DELETE IT CS IM GONNA FIX IT AT SOME POINT PLS PLS PLS -
If I cant be my own, I’d feel better dead by Marbl3
Fandoms: Gachiakuta (Manga), Gachiakuta (Anime)
15 Mar 2026
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Summary
Zanka runs into a familiar face whilst on break in Canvas Town. Something is inherently wrong.
“But Zankaaaa…”
“OFFA ME!”
The second Jabber would’ve let go, Zanka could make a mad dash for the alley behind him. That was the plan.
He watched in anticipation as Jabber reluctantly unwound his hands from Zanka’s ankle. Jabber’s hands. His bare hands? Bare fingers? What—
“Where’s Mankira?”