#also why the fuck does everyone keep writing thinking dogs differently

[oikasugayama]

I just found your blog and love your writing and charts! I have a couple of requests for charts, dw if you don’t like them. First, the bsd boys on finding out you want to get their image tattooed on your body, they either love or hate the idea and maybe suggest where. Second, the bsd boys on a date with you at a fancy restaurant, you get horny and touch them under the table. Thanks!

Thank youuu!! I really like the second request!!

You touch him under the table during dinner with guests at a fancy restaurant...

Akutagawa is too prideful to let anyone know what you're doing to him. He makes you stop so that he can punish you at home. Fukuzawa makes you stop and won't touch back because it's inappropriate.

Kunikida lets you go for a few seconds too long out of his own selfish desires, but he does make you stop and keeps it secret bc it's disrespectful to your dinner guests.

Ranpo lets you touch him but doesn't touch you back. If you try to make him cum it becomes a little obvious to some of the people you're dining with, but he doesn't announce it by any means

Junichiro and Atsushi don't tell the table but it's so obvious that they're getting really flustered because something must be happening. Junichiro makes you stop faster than Atsushi would. Atsushi would at least pet your thigh a little. Ango makes you stop immediately bc he can't risk you getting caught, but he also unintentionally lets the table know because he's obvious.

Bram makes you stop by interrupting conversation to say "don't touch me there, we're in public." Mori similarly says to your guests that you're touching him under the table, and that makes you stop, but he technically didn't remove your hand.

Oda paws at you a little bit and tries very hard to keep it a secret. When he gets worked up too much he stops and says you two have another commitment and need to leave (really he fucks you in the car). Mushitaro is similar; he definitely touches you back and when he gets too worked up he says you two need to leave. He's a bit more obvious than Oda.

Poe touches back but he's so whiny and squirmy that everyone knows what's happening and then he leaves and takes you with him.

SIGMA? The CASINO GUY? SLIGHT OF HAND IS HIS THING. He's whole ass making you cum under that table and no one is gonna know a fucking thing. Same goes for Tachihara, he's an ACTOR that man played the Hunting Dogs and the Port Mafia for a while. He's cumming and no one can tell.

Chuuya is down to get a handy under the table. Depending on who's at the table, he might not care if they realize, he thinks it might establish dominance.

Nikolai will let you rub him and will play with you back. He could probably use his ability to actually fuck you under the table as long as no one noticed his hips moving. He would straight up tell the dinner guests he's fucking you if they asked why he's moving so much.

Dazai and Fyodor are straight up telling the table, but in different ways. Dazai is throwing his head back and moaning and telling you it feels so good, and when the dinner guests look horrified he takes your hand and brings you to the bathroom to fuck you over the sink. Fyodor is very casually leaning his head on his hand, looking his guest in the eye, and somehow using you jerking him to belittle the guest. He'd say something with the essence of "you want me to help you, and i'm over here getting a handjob. we are not the same."

[ryuichirou]

how would the TWST boys react if they were chosen by the cat distribution system and a stray cat choose them to be its cat dad?

Today I decided that it’s time to write about something delightful lol I keep smiling every time I remember that we have this ask in our askbox… Thank you for waiting, Anon! I’m sorry it took this long.

Maaaybe I’ll write more hc posts next week… I try to write at least two per week, but there are so many good prompts that I should probably try to do more.

Anyways! Once again my bias is clear because I am a poor soul that loves cats but doesn’t own one, so spoiler alert: all the boys end up loving cats as well lol But I think it’s fair… How does one not like cats? Don’t ask Ciel.

Riddle – his first instinct is to refuse poor cat’s attempts to hang out because his mother never let him own a cat: they claw furniture, they bite, and Riddle has allergies! Or… he thought he did. He didn’t get any reaction from the cat, so maybe that was a lie?? Anyways, he would melt almost immediately because a fluffy creature wanting to be his friend is something that Riddle always wished for. He loves animals and taking care of them, so there is no way he is letting go of that cat! Of course he has to get used to it because a cat would never follow any rules, and sometimes it would get frustrating for Riddle, but��� whenever a cat wants to play with him or cuddle with him, Riddle giggles like the happiest kid in the world. No one is allowed to pet his cat without his permission.

Ace – he will brag about it a lot. He’ll take the cat everywhere and always have it either on his lap or on his shoulders. He’ll always talk about just how much the cat purrs for him and him only, and how cool of a person he is because the cat clearly chose him specifically to be his owner. The cat really does like him a lot, but it doesn’t mean that Ace doesn’t get scratched or bitten all the time lol Also, at some point it will become the freshmen’s cat that everyone takes care of a little, and Ace would start to constantly remind everyone that this is in fact HIS cat!

Deuce – aw, he would probably be a little awkward at first. He strikes me as someone who is more of a dog person and doesn’t have much experience with cats… He would be very careful around it, as if he isn’t just afraid to hurt the cat, he doesn’t even want to offend it somehow. Of course he would swear that he’ll take care of the cat and be very responsible about it! But it will take a while for him to take it inside the dorm; he’ll just feed it and hang out with it outside at first… until the weather gets too cold.

Trey – he would have this “why me though?” vibe to his reaction, but he would still be kind of happy. Maybe he shouldn’t have fed it, now it follows him around everywhere… Trey says that this isn’t really his cat, but keeps taking care of it anyway. He never expected to be this delighted to have a cat. He would get much more into it than he expected, to be honest. He’ll probably feed it with home-made treats and give it toys that he made himself…

Cater – OF COURSE he’ll start taking selfies with this cat. OF COURSE. After some time he might even make a separate account for the cat, to see if it would surpass his follower count. Other than that, he would cuddle the cat a lot, talk to it, play with it, dress it up all cutely and meme-y. I think it would be very good for Cater to own a cat… He needs to learn how to take care of it properly though, so some assistance might be necessary lol

Leona – would he even care? Maybe a little bit, but he would act like he doesn’t care at all. He doesn’t even know who the fuck this cat is, it just appeared suddenly and now lives in his room. It can stay or leave, doesn’t make any difference to Leona. In actuality though, on some level he does appreciate the companionship of another cat sleeping next to him or on top of him and grooming his ears. But only when no one sees it or comments on it. He could chat with the cat btw, but he just doesn’t – for the most time they hang out in silence.

Ruggie – another cat to take care of?? And also, another mouth to feed?? Well that can’t be helped, it’s not like he is going to throw the poor thing away. I think he will manage to train it to do all kinds of tricks, like stealing stuff from others’ pockets or sneaking things away for Ruggie… the cat will be his partner in crime lol He would also probably have conversations with it, since it’s easier for him to talk to animals.

Jack – not only a dog-person, but also literally a dog, so he might have a hard time at first understanding that cat’s behavior. He is probably going to act like he isn’t interested at first, but jokes on him, because this only makes the cat more into him. He will literally sit all alone, radiating “don’t talk to me” aura, and the cat would think that this is exactly where it wants to sit – on Jack’s lap. Even though Jack is a tsundere, he is going to warm up eventually… and even while he is in his denial phase, he will take care of the cat by keeping it fed and letting it inside when it’s cold. Speaking of cold, Jack is very warm, so the cat loves him a lot…

Azul – “I don’t have time for this” at first, with all the reasons why having a cat is a bad idea popping up in his head at once. Similarly to Riddle’s mom’s mantra: it ruins furniture, it causes allergies, it sheds, it doesn’t behave… but he would also break very quickly, probably the moment the cat starts rubbing against his leg or purring at him. Azul would probably make quite a drastic 180 degree turn and enter his “a cartoon villain with a cat on his lap that he pets menacingly” phase by the end of his first day with the said cat. It feels good. It feels correct to pet a fluffy purring creature while you’re humiliating someone who is indebted to you. Also, of course he is going to treat the cat like royalty and get it all the best things… and also train it like a dog at the same time.

Floyd – people would think that he isn’t responsible enough to own a pet, but actually a cat would probably be the best pick for him. At first he would get all excited because this little buddy just suddenly decided to hang out with him. Floyd would just suddenly start appearing everywhere with a cat on his shoulder like he is a pirate or something. But then both the cat and Floyd would lose interest in each other, until they meet again and decide that they want to hang out again lol But while Floyd and cat are together, he takes it everywhere, plays with it a lot, races with it, cuddles it, smooches it, throws it in the air and catches it. Some of Floyd’s games aren’t the best for the cat, so Floyd ends up getting scratched and hissed at quite often, but for some reason the cat still adores him enough to let him do anything with it, even hold it upside-down.

Jade – it’s easy to picture him being a cat-lover because of the Sebastian parallels lol I think he would really enjoy owning a cat, and he would make it everyone else’s problem. Just like Floyd, he would walk around with a cat on his shoulders, but he would always mention it: please don’t mind my cat, he just loves me very much. I hope you are not bothered by my cat’s presence, he won’t bother us, I swear. Also, I think because Jade would actually try to properly take care of the cat, he would encounter some unpredictable issues, like a cat refusing to eat certain cat food or eating something it’s not supposed to eat. Jade would have a couple of moments that would make him fuss over it and even though he wouldn’t enjoy it… he likes the unpredictability. Keep chewing on random things, cat! But not too much, please.

Kalim – he would be so happy and excited!! It’s like making a friend, but a new kind of friend, a very fluffy one! Kalim is probably way too cuddly for the cat’s liking, so sometimes he would get confused by it running away from him. He just wants the cat to be happy… he would buy 5 cat towers, 30 toys and a bunch of cool accessories for the cat during the very first day of owning it (then he’ll buy more)! And 10 beds, so the cat could pick whichever it likes most (it sleeps in Kalim’s bed of course)!! And of course he will ask Jamil to learn how to cook delicious meals for the cat. He would try to feed the cat his own food first, but of course would stop once he learns that the cat shouldn’t eat spicy food…

Jamil – another one who would think that he doesn’t have time or energy to take care of another thing at first, but would warm up very quickly. He would tsundere up a bit when Kalim says that he is happy that Jamil has a little fluffy friend now, but after a while he will realise that Kalim is kind of right… a cat is even better than a friend. Hanging out with it doesn’t take as much energy, in fact, Jamil feels very energised after petting it and playing with it. Wow… a cat would do wonders to Jamil’s psyche…! He would both cuddle with it and let it sleep in his bed at night, and play a lot of active games with it whenever he has time for it.

Vil – despite how busy he always is, I think he would accept the cat immediately. The cat clearly chose him – it’s only fair that it’s Vil’s responsibility to take care of it now… I don’t think Vil has a lot of experience with cats, but he would read a lot of books and articles to make sure that the cat lives a good life in his dorm. He wouldn’t be as excessive as Kalim, but… he might have gotten carried away with the stuff that he got for the cat. But all of it is very necessary! The best cat food (he’ll ditch it after a while and start cooking for the cat himself), the best sleeping place, the best toys to make sure that the cat is active and healthy. He will also bathe it, brush its fur every day, trim its nails… Vil’s cat is going to be such a wonderfully groomed cat that knows all kinds of tricks and is very smart and well-behaved… but also Vil’s capricious baby that hates everyone other than him lol

Rook – oh, he wouldn’t consider himself an owner, he would always say that he is a companion to his cat lol He wouldn’t get surprised when the cat suddenly starts to follow him around, but he would act so flattered and honoured! Such a beautiful creature decided to illuminate his life with its presence. Rook is pretty good at talking to animals, so he would have conversations with his cat… While sitting in a tree together lol He would feed it of course, but he would also hunt with it and would prefer for it to catch its own prey. He also doesn’t want to trim its nails or groom it more than necessary, but alas, if it wants to live in Pomefiore with him, it has to follow Vil’s rules~ Rook wouldn’t want to anger the queen with an ill-behaved and dirty cat, right? Maybe he would prefer to keep the cat outside though, to keep it as undomesticated as possible. A weirdo…

Epel – he would be so happy! It’s been a while since he owned a pet, and this is the first time he has a cat. He would pet and cuddle it a lot, even if it’s still dirty… Of course, his first instinct would be to feed it and to bring it to his room. But he would also probably be anxious to bring it to the dorm: what if Vil sees it and takes it away… and even if Vil doesn’t see it, Rook is definitely going to notice the cat smell or something, and he will snitch on him! Anyways, he won’t be able to keep it a secret for a long time, but the cat will do some damage lol Surprisingly, Epel will only get scolded for not being a proper owner, so as long as he does better, the cat can stay. But it probably means that his senpai will start taking care of the cat as well. Epel will be a bit jealous, it’s his cat after all…

Idia – he’d die. He’d be so happy. A cat that doesn’t hate him? A cat that wants to hang out? A cat that FOLLOWS HIM TO HIS ROOM AND STAYS THERE? HIS CAT? Idia would feel like he spent all of his luck points that he had saved up for these 18 years. Or was it good karma? Anyways, Idia now spends all his time building cat towers and automatic feeders and toys and all kinds of gadgets for his cool new cat. At first he wouldn’t be as good at talking to a cat, and it would be very obvious that he is a bit worried when he pets it and doesn’t want to scare it away, but he’ll start cuddling with it pretty quickly. He’s so happy… It doesn’t feel real, it doesn’t feel real at all. Even when he gets used to the cat and stops being so awkward around it, he will still feel such huge wave of happiness every time he sees it, as if every time he sees it is the first time…

Ortho – this is the first time he has a fluffy friend, well, other than Grim of course! And Lucius isn’t very friendly with him either, so this is a pretty new experience! Of course, partially he would be excited because if he owns a cat, it’s Idia’s cat as well, and he knows how much Idia loves cats. But also, this is such a good opportunity to make a proper cat-to-human translator!.. It’s weird with Ortho. He has all the info he needs, and he is very good at some things, but somehow… petting and interacting with a cat is a bit difficult. Why doesn’t kitty want to eat this food? Why did it pee in the wrong place? What’s going on? I think he’ll end up asking Trein for advice a lot, and this will be a good experience for everyone involved. Also, his cat loves him more when his processor gets hot lol he is a walking heater.

Lilia – he would be happy at first and show off and brag because now he isn’t just cute, he’s double cute! With a cute cat on his head/shoulders! But at the same time, I don’t know if he is the best person to have a cat. I feel like he is one of those who try to feed it with milk, but also knowing Lilia, he literally makes those he cares for drink milk from a mug. Maybe he’d act differently with a cat, but it surely will be an adventure for this poor animal lol He plays with it similarly to how Floyd plays with his cat, and just like with Floyd, somehow it makes the cat very attached to him. Sometimes Lilia cuddles it and kisses it a lot, but a lot of times it’s the cat that gets clingy with Lilia and wants to sleep with its head on his shoulder. Acting like a baby, smh…

Silver – aw, he would be so good. Similarly to Rook, he would consider a cat to be a companion, but he would also try to be very responsible with his he takes care of it. He would take it to Diasomnia and let it sleep in his bed, wouldn’t do much grooming or brushing, but he would do his best in terms of playing with it and feeding it well, I think. Especially the latter lol But the majority of time the cat would just cuddle up and sleep with him whenever he’s dozing off.

Sebek – he has better things to do than to indulge in these games!! He says as he brings the cat home with a bunch of books with all the necessary information on how to take care of a cat!! Did he also fall victim of cute paws and purring? Maybe! But it won’t affect his performance as Malleus’ guard in a slightest! I think he will try to train the cat, and he might even succeed to some degree, but his cat won’t be as well-trained as Vil’s or Azul’s. Maybe the cat just doesn’t take him seriously and just wants to make biscuits on his stomach while sleeping on his lap… Sebek would seethe, but won’t move until the cat leaves :(

Malleus – the cat isn’t afraid of him? Oh he would be so delighted. He was very happy about the goat in the Glorious Masquerade event, and I think his reaction would be similar here: first amusement, a little surprise, but then he would get so tickled and excited for this new companionship. The cat would be allowed to seemingly disrespect Malleus by positioning itself on his horns, leaving fur on his garment, playing with his hair, and Malleus would laugh… until the cat scratches him. Then Malleus would start sulking. But he’ll get over it, he’s not a baby.

[kallie-den]

Warhound

Sartha Thrace, ace mech pilot, is always so confused. She's a rebel, so why is she fighting on the wrong side? She's a free woman, so why is she wearing a muzzle? She's a hero, so why do her comrades treat her like a rabid dog? Sartha Thrace is so fortunate that her beloved Handler is always there to help her understand

This is a little different from my usual work. An experiment in style and tone, although it is still definitely mind control smut! Be warned, though. The tone is dark and it features some things like betrayal and gunplay that some readers might take exception to

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—

Nothing makes Sartha Thrace feel good the way being saddled up in the cockpit of a huge mech suit does.

She usually likes to say it’s because of all the good you can do with that kind of power, because it’s a good line for pro-rebellion propaganda, but the truth is that it’s far more immediate than that. The joy comes from a million different things. The way the seat beneath her thrums as the machine kicks into life. The scent of machine oil and burnt steel as the reactor spools up. The way everything in the world shakes when her almighty machine, as big as a skyscraper, takes just one single step. The joy isn’t in her head. It’s in her blood. Her guts.

It’s fucking perfect.

All in all, it makes Sartha feel like she’s not just a person anymore. A person is just meat, however much of a hero they are. In the cockpit, she’s a sixty-foot-tall titan ready to crush the world under her heel. There’s nothing like the power trip, and it helps take her mind off some of the anxieties that like to eat at her.

Ancyor is the name of her beast. They know it everywhere, because Sartha is, after all, a hero. Just a name, no class, no model number. Not much point now. Ancyor isn’t like anything else after all the cannibalism Sartha’s had to do to keep her running. Everything’s been replaced twice. Most of it, three times or more. So now Ancyor is one hell of an ugly mongrel, but that hasn’t done anything to keep it off the rebel recruitment posters. They like using its face almost as much as they do Sartha’s.

It’s what you get for being a hero. Hell, for being the hero. She’s the big hero of the rebellion.

They’re just coming up on the battlezone now. Sartha trusts her instruments but she trusts her eyes even more, so she takes a moment to peer out of Ancyor’s grubby little viewports, even though it’s hard with her muzzle in the way. She can see her comrades’ battle line unfolding on either side of her, and it doesn’t make her happy. None of the other mechs look anything like Ancyor.

They’re all brand new and freshly-painted, and way too sleek for their own good. The kinds of machines that have just rolled off an Imperial production line. Fresh tech given to fresh meat that doesn’t even know how to use it properly. Something about it unsettles Sartha. She has too many ghostly little memories of fighting on the other side, against machines like that. Being with them doesn’t feel right.

Memories of someone else’s life. That’s what Handler always calls them when she tells Sartha not to dwell on them. Sartha does her best to listen, because Handler is always right. Handler is wonderful.

Sartha raises a hand and touches her muzzle as she thinks about that.

Everyone’s in position, comes the voice over the radio. Snooty. Elitist. An officer.

Copy, comes the reply. We’re ready.

Can we send the dog in first? someone asks. A bunch of sniggers follow that one.

Negative, says the officer. We stick to the plan. Commencing bombardment.

A few moments later, the ground starts rumbling and the whole sky lights up red and white. Sartha doesn’t look. She knows better than to stare at the fireworks. This isn’t her first battle. She’s a hero, and she knows what she needs to do. The little drip of adrenaline the blasts prompt helps her focus.

“Here we go, Ancyor,” she murmurs to no one.

When she opens up the throttle, Ancyor responds as always, with an ugly purr. The beast surges forwards. Sartha wants to be right on the heels of the bombardment. That’s what she does best. She gets stuck in with blade and chain, wherever it’s getting good and messy.

That makes her a really big target, obviously, and sure enough, the enemy is already replying to the artillery in kind. Beams and missiles start to fly past Ancyor as it sprints. Well, not all of them. Some of them hit home, and Sartha feels the impact in her own body. It does nothing but put a crazy grin on her face, behind the muzzle’s metal cage. She feels her mech clunk underneath her as redundant systems slam into place wherever the damage isn’t so superficial.

It’ll take more than that to put her beast down.

But since she isn’t actually crazy the way people say, Sartha shelters behind a ruin, ready for the tense dance of sprinting from cover to cover as she advances. As she does, she sees her comm system lighting up. It’s the enemy, yelling at her across a broad comm band.

Obviously Sartha knows she should ignore it, but there’s never been a good pilot who didn’t know how to trash talk. She isn’t enough of a professional to not reach over and flick a few switches so she can listen in.

At first the transmissions are too loud, and so messy they almost sound like interference. It’s not, it’s just too many damn people yelling at once. As usual, the sight of Ancyor loping into combat was getting a nice healthy response. After a moment, Sartha manages to pick out a few things here and there:

Traitor.

How could you do this to us?

Why?

What the fuck is wrong with you, Thrace?

What did they do to you?

Somehow, some of that makes it through the adrenaline and Sartha stops grinning. It’s not the words exactly. It’s the emotion. There’s this one woman in particular she can pick out, howling into her radio. It’s not familiar, it’s no one she knows, but there’s something in her voice. A depth; a ragged, throatfucked anguish that only comes from something real.

From real betrayal.

Sartha risks taking a hand off the joystick to adjust her muzzle, trying to make it less uncomfortable.

At the same time, she tries to convince herself it’s all bullshit. She tries to remind herself where she is, and what she’s fighting for, but that’s hard because she doesn’t know. All that stuff - the briefings before the mission, for example - is just a haze. It’s fog. It’s nothing. It’s like she wasn’t even there. So what the fuck is this battle?

Another look through the viewport. The whole place is already buried under inches of dust and napalm, but Sartha still can’t quite shake the feeling that she knows this city. It feels like maybe, in one of those other lives she sometimes remembers, this was a place she wanted to defend.

There’s something wrong with her, she thinks. It’s the only way to explain why she keeps flinching whenever she sees one of those sleek, black, fresh Imperial mechs punch out of the dust-fog. Stupid, stupid. They’re on her side. She needs to get that straight.

Sartha is keeping Ancyor moving, but that’s just instinct, and instinct isn’t half as good when you’re not paying fucking attention. And she can’t stop paying attention to that howling voice on the comms.

What did they do to you, Thrace? Was it money? What the fuck did they do to you?

What did they do to her? Sartha doesn’t quite know, although she knows for sure it wasn’t money. She remembers something, maybe, unless it’s just one of those other people’s lives. A room. A room that makes her scared shitless. And pain. From electric shocks, she thinks. And lights - lights shined into her head so bright she thought they would punch all the way out the other side. And most of all, words that never ever ever ever stopped whispering.

Fuck. Shit. She’s breaking down now, like a raw rookie. Only Sartha’s not a rookie, she’s a hero, only maybe she’s not even that if she’s a traitor like the voice on the radio says. She needs to get her head on straight. She needs to figure out where she is and what this battle is. She needs to get this freakish fucking muzzle off her head. She needs-

Click.

The radio goes silent and Sartha goes dead still. She knows Ancyor better than she knows her own soul. She knows every little noise it ever makes, and this one is very special. It’s an override for the comm system, activating a direct line to one special person in particular. Sartha’s breast swells with hope and bile in the instant before she hears her voice.

Can you hear me, Sartha? Handler says.

“Yes,” Sartha replies at once, because she would never keep Handler waiting. She’s already pulling herself together. She can’t break down like this. Not with Handler here.

It seemed like you were getting confused, Handler says. So here I am.

Hearing that almost feels bad because it’s almost a reproach, but Sartha feels good instead because she’s just happy to listen to Handler talking. Handler’s voice is love.

I’m going to take care of that for you, Handler warns. Ready?

“Yes,” Sartha says. She’s never quite ready for what’s coming, but she’s cringingly grateful for it anyway because in a few moments all the things she was worrying about won’t matter.

Hound, Handler says in a special voice. Off The Leash.

It’s not quite instant, and so Sartha gets a single moment to experience her own psyche cracking like an egg. It feels, more than anything, like clarity. She gets it now, as she falls away from herself. Sartha Thrace isn’t a real person anymore. Sartha Thrace is gone, they just kept the shape of her, like a papier-mâché mask keeping the imprint of someone’s face.

They needed her body, because it’s recognizable. They needed her piloting skills, because she’s the best. Everything else, they scooped out, except for whatever they needed to keep to make a nice little convenient shell for the thing that’s inside her now. The thing that’s coming out, now that she’s Off The Leash.

Sartha Thrace goes away, and Hound wakes up.

Hound whoops and growls, making Handler laugh approvingly over the radio, and guns Ancyor’s throttle so viciously hard the mech starts to scream underneath her. Hound doesn’t care. Hound doesn’t care about anything. She’s right where she belongs - in her colossal metal body, muzzle strapped to her face, beloved Handler in her ear.

And in front of her, there are targets.

Hound makes Ancyor lunge out of cover and surge towards the nearest thing she sees that doesn’t look like one of her sleek, black packmates, and then start tearing it to shreds. The way Ancyor jerks and whines in protest as it really rips into an enemy mech turns Hound’s growl into a wolf-scream of pure, untainted glee that lasts until the broken, bleeding thing under Ancyor’s blades finally stops moving.

Then, Hound lopes off into the rebel city in her mech, looking for more things to kill.

***

Sartha Thrace doesn’t know how much time has passed by the time Ancyor heaves back into its berth in the hangar. She only knows it’s after the battle, and mostly she knows there was a battle because Ancyor is beaten to hell and she’s covered in scars and her own matted blood.

It hurts, but in a good way, like how exercise hurts. The core of that good feeling is the vague sense that she has done a good job today. She fought hard, and they won.

Handler will be proud of her.

Despite how exhausted Sartha is, that knowledge puts a spring in her step as she dismounts from Ancyor’s cockpit onto one of the huge piers that line the hangar in rows. The hangar is a vast, cavernous space, too big to feel real, so big it’ll make your eyes hurt if you stare at the ceiling or the far wall. It’s steadily filling up as more and more of Sartha’s comrades make it back.

Not as many as there had been when they left, but that’s always how it is. Sartha knows how to make herself cold to it.

She gets a lot of hard, bad looks from the other pilots as they dismount. Some even spit. Sartha doesn’t let it trouble her. She isn’t really one of them, she knows. They’re all Imperial to a T: neat, black uniforms, cropped hair, stiff hats and straight backs. Sartha wears grubby old military khakis instead, with more than a few personal touches, and her mid-length blonde hair is messy in a deliberate, handsome way. And there’s the muzzle, of course. She doesn’t look like one of them. She looks like one of the people on the other side.

Sartha could probably figure out the other, less superficial reasons she wasn’t really one of them if she put her mind to it, but she didn’t, because Handler had told her not to. Handler always knows best.

Maybe something happened in the battle, and that’s why they’re so mad. Sartha doesn’t really remember, past the beginning. It’s all fog. She doesn’t worry about that. Another thing Handler has told her not to worry about. Sometimes it feels like her whole life has been consumed by fog, but she never worries thanks to Handler. That’s one of Handler’s many gifts to her, and in exchange Sartha needs to be very very good. She delights in being good. She won’t remove her muzzle without permission, even now, as it rubs uncomfortably into her face.

And there! Sartha catches sight of Her coming down the pier, as if in response to the hero pilot’s yearning.

Handler.

She’s magnificent. Beautiful, yes, but in a special way, more like a goddess than a person. Everyone else knows She’s special too. The other pilots, the ones who’d been spitting at Sartha, move out of the way and salute at Her passing. A special uniform marks Her rank. It’s more ceremonial than practical: tight-fitting leathers and high boots, with a sleek cap to crown Her platinum hair and a heavy, black coat to make Her silhouette all the more imposing.

Sartha senses that the other pilots are a little bit afraid of Her, but she isn’t. She could never be afraid of Handler.

“Sartha,” Handler says, in a voice that makes Sartha shiver every time. “Congratulations. You did well.”

Every single muscle in Sartha’s body goes stiff at the praise. Her head starts spinning giddily and a nervous, twitchy grin comes to her face. This is a sacred moment. But it’s too good to be true. It’s too much.

“I got… confused,” Sartha replies in a crestfallen tone. She can’t disagree with Handler, obviously, but nor can she be dishonest. She needs to volunteer these things.

“That’s true,” Handler conceded. “But you made it back on track. That’s what counts. It was a very confusing place for you. You did well.”

Sartha gasps and shudders. Butterflies in her stomach. The praise is all the sweeter now that she’s unburdened herself. She feels the ecstasy of purification.

“T-thank you,” she blurts out nervously, stupidly.

Talking to Handler always does this to her. Sartha has as many notches on her bedpost as any other ace but with Handler she’s fourteen again, a tongue-tied virgin struggling to think of a good enough line to get one of the older, prettier girls to take her to prom. She has to grab her left arm with her right hand to stop it shaking too much. But the anxiety is more than balanced out by elation. She can’t be anything but happy when Handler is here.

A thin smile comes to Handler’s face. On anyone else it might have seemed cruel, but Sartha knows that Handler is beyond petty things like cruelty. “You’re a very good hound.”

That phrase is like a magic spell. It lets Sartha relax into the praise. She giggles, and the grin on her face becomes broad and innocent. She’s a good hound for Handler. It’s perfect. It makes whatever she was worrying about earlier when she was confused feel utterly remote and small. Nothing matters when she’s a good hound for Handler. It’s the only important thing in the entire world, and her whole body knows it.

Sartha’s brain throbs endorphins into her bloodstream at a dangerous rate. She’s seeing stars and shivering rapturously. She’s blushing and dripping between her legs; turned on like hell even though this pleasure is so much more than just sex. Being a hound is better than being just a hero ever was.

She’s a good hound for Handler.

“And you know what that means,” Handler adds, smiling still. “Don’t you?”

Sartha dares to nod. She has her hopes, but it would be blasphemous to get her hopes up.

“Good hounds get rewards,” Handler tells her, and reaches out to pet her head.

This is special and it makes Sartha stop thinking altogether. Handler’s touch on her head is infinitely familiar, and more reassuring than anything. Her thoughts turn into bubbles that pop as Handler messes her hair affectionately. Sartha doesn’t try to collect herself, she just grins her stupid grin and stretches her back to try and push her head against Handler’s fingers. The lack of self-discipline is an indulgence, but one that she’s allowed from time to time.

“There we go!” Handler coos. “You deserve this. Don’t you?”

“Yesyesyes,” Sartha blurts out, all in a rush. “Thankyouthankyou.”

She could cry. She’s never been happier.

Handler gives her the blessing of letting her enjoy this for a few long moments before She says: “I think there’s another thing you deserve too. You deserve a treat. Hound deserves a treat.”

Sartha nods, drunk on eagerness. A treat is something different. Something specific. She always gets a treat after a mission, unless she’s been very, very bad.

“Sit,” Handler commands.

At once Sartha is on her knees. It doesn’t take thought. She sees that some of the other pilots are gathering round, and some of them are laughing at her. Sartha doesn’t care. She doesn’t care about anyone else when she’s with Handler. Those other pilots just don’t understand how special She is.

Handler leans in and looms over her, and says in that special voice of Hers: “Hound. Off The Leash.”

Sartha Thrace goes away, and Hound wakes up.

It’s a very different Hound from the one that wakes in the thick of battle. Hound doesn’t growl - she can’t, not at Handler - she just makes her eyes big and looks up at her owner. Handler’s smile widens.

“Very good,” She purrs at Hound’s display of patience. Handler pointedly sets one foot forward, resting Her big, heavy, leather boot on its heel. She waits a few moments, allowing Hound’s need to build. “OK. Go.”

Hound throws herself forward and wraps her entire body around Handler’s leg. She pushes her thighs apart as wide as she can, all the better to start grinding her cunt against Handler’s boot.

Immediately, Hound lets out a desperate whine of pleasure so loud it echoes around the hangar instead of being swallowed up. Her mind goes blank. The few thoughts Hound is permitted to have vanish. Touching Handler this way makes her unbelievably sensitive. The sensation is earth-shattering even though the heavy material of her clothes is in the way. What this represents is more important than how it actually feels.

Safety. Purpose. Reward.

This is Hound’s safe place. Perhaps the only place she feels truly safe, and that’s because this is where she’s meant to be. There’s no doubt. No uncertainty. Not with Handler. Hound does what she’s told and she gets her treat. It’s so blissfully simple.

If being good for Handler is the only thing that matters, she doesn’t need to think about anything else. And this is how she knows she’s been good for Handler.

“Good girl,” Handler says, looking down at her. Handler sounds so very amused, and Hound is just pleased to be the one amusing her.

She puts her face as close to Handler as she possibly can. Her muzzle is in the way so she has to turn her head and rub it desperately against her owner’s hips. She’s desperate for Handler’s scent; that scent of leather and polish and dark perfume is infinitely comforting and pleasurable. As it fills her nose, she starts humping more slowly and deliberately, pressing hard so that she can feel every one of the taut laces of Handler’s boot rubbing against her cunt.

Hound’s whimpers start to fill out into panting, breathless moans. The exertion is almost too much for her. She was already exhausted from combat. But she won’t stop. She’d never give up her treat, not for anything.

The crowd around Handler and Hound is growing as more and more Imperial pilots gather to watch the strange ritual. Despite their lurid curiosity, they keep a respectful distance; Handler commands a great deal of fearful respect. Most of them are laughing or leering or making cruel, obscene comments to one another. Hound barely notices, and doesn’t care at all. They don’t matter. Only Handler matters.

She does care, though, when one of the pilots breaks the circle and approaches. A woman. The laughter dies away, replaced by hushed pleas for their comrade to retreat back into line. She doesn’t. Hound flashes her a look, teeth bared, although her treat is too all-consuming for her to expend anything more than a stray thought on anything but rubbing her cunt all over Handler’s leg.

The woman returns Hound’s look with a hateful glare. “How can you let that… thing do that to you?” she demands of Handler.

Handler stares at her. She doesn’t flinch, which is impressive. Handler remains relaxed, amused. “What do you mean?”

“She’s a fucking rebel!” the woman spits. She steps forward again. “An enemy.”

“Not anymore,” Handler replies calmly. “What’s your name, pilot?”

“Sergeant Meetra Kotys,” she answers. “Sir,” she adds, a beat later than she should.

“You needn’t be afraid, Sergeant Kotys,” Handler tells her. “I personally oversaw Thrace’s reconditioning. Our domestication procedures are extremely thorough. There is no risk of reversion to adverse behavior.”

Hound hears but doesn’t listen. It’s not her place to listen. It’s her place to rut against Handler’s boot like the dumb animal she knows she is.

“I’m not afraid!” Sergeant Kotys spits. “I’m fucking disgusted. That woman took down half my wing at Hebros Ridge last year. Six people in the ground. Because of her.” The pilot’s eyes are uneven. Wild. “She deserves worse than this.”

Handler takes her time composing a reply. She pushes her foot forward, pressing her boot against Hound’s cunt. Hound moans, unfathomably grateful for this gift. She keeps humping, the rhythmic, bucking motion of her hips growing steadily more and more desperate.

“The Hound and her mech are a significant asset to the Imperial forces,” Handler says eventually. Her voice is icier now. More menacing. “That is all you should need to know, Sergeant. I’m pleased you value the lives of your fellow pilots. You might consider how many more of them might have been lost today without Hound here.”

Sergeant Kotys bristles at that. With a woman like Handler, there’s an implied threat lurking behind her every word, but the pilot is too aggrieved to care.

“But,” Handler adds, pausing for long enough to emphasize her charity. “Perhaps it will help you to think of it like this: my little warhound here is not Sartha Thrace. She is not the Sartha Thrace who killed your comrades. Whatever you want to do to her, it won’t be revenge. She is not Sartha Thrace. I have made her something else. Understand?”

Sergeant Kotys’s eyes flit uncertainly between Handler and Hound as she struggles to wrap her head around that; to reconcile her anger with it. In the end, she shakes her head.

“No,” she snarls. “No. That’s her. That’s fucking her. Seen that face a hundred times on the posters. That’s her fucking face. What about her hair, huh? And her clothes? If she’s something else, why does she look the same way she always did?”

“Ego totems.” Handler’s calm was impenetrable. “A few personal touches, nothing more. A little continuity and familiarity helps to maintain a sustainable, pliable outer persona.”

Sergeant Kotys just laughs thickly. “Fuck whatever that means.”

She takes another step forward. This is too close for Hound; she rouses herself a little from her stupid rut and begins to growl protectively at the sergeant from behind her muzzle. She only stops and returns to humping when Handler rests Her hand on Hound’s head.

“How can you just touch her like that?” Sergeant Kotys demands. She is furious beyond reason. Furious enough to risk the pilot’s wings she wore so proudly on her collar. “It makes me sick. Every time we’re told to drag her out into combat I feel like I’m gonna throw up in my damn cockpit.”

Hound isn’t paying attention again. The sounds of her rubbing herself on Handler’s leg are turning increasingly wet. Her cunt is soaked, and the dark stain on the front of her pants is starting to drip.

“Feel like I’m gonna get shot in the back every time I’m not looking her way.” The corner of Sergeant Kotys’s mouth keeps twitching down. “We all do. How do you know she’s not just playing you, huh? How do we know she’s not gonna just… just snap out of it, or something?”

Handler’s lip turns upwards. “Does she look to you like she’s going to snap out of it? See for yourself.”

Sergeant Kotys looks at Hound - really looks at her. She looks at the expression of dumb, grateful lust on her face. At the metal cage strapped firmly over her mouth. At the vacancy in her eyes, and the vulgar, bestial enthusiasm in her hips. She stares for way too long.

“Fuck…” she breathes. Her cheeks are red. “I can’t believe this. This is wrong. This is the woman who… I should really just…”

She reaches to her side and draws her pistol from its holster.

A few brave members of the crowd of pilots start to reach forwards, especially when Sergeant Kotys points her gun straight at Hound. Handler seems to know something they don’t, though. She flashes them a look, and they freeze. All eyes are on the sergeant.

She moves slow and shuddery. Like Hound, she’s not uninjured. There’s a mean cut on her forehead and a couple of bruises on her cheek. She looks exhausted too, but her hand is steady when she puts the barrel of her gun right against Hound’s forehead.

Hound barely even notices. To her, it’s nothing more than a little shock of cold as she feels the metal touch her skin. A mere distraction from what actually matters. She’s in heat. Handler is right here with her. She just needs to do what she’s supposed to do. She needs to enjoy her treat.

“God,” Sergeant Kotys grunts. She sounds almost disgusted, and almost something else. “What the fuck is wrong with her?”

The tip of her gun travels down the side of Hound’s face. The sergeant uses it like an extension of her own hand, dragging it heavily, callously across Hound’s skin until she’s prodding it into her cheek. The pitch of Hound’s moaning changes for a moment, but only for a moment.

“What about this, huh?” Sergeant Kotys nods to Handler as she jabs the tip of her gun hard into the side of Hound’s muzzle. Hound whimpers. “What’s this for?”

“That’s for your benefit, sergeant,” Handler replies. There’s a slight smirk on her face. “It helps our people understand her new place.”

“That’s fucking twisted.”

The expression on Sergeant Kotys’s face is so mixed it’s impossible to read. She hasn’t taken her eyes off Hound in minutes. She’s transfixed, and she barely seems aware of what she’s doing as she starts pushing harder with her gun, steadily dislodging Hound’s muzzle from where it’s supposed to be.

Even in heat, Hound can’t fail to notice this. A sudden burst of anxiety claims her. She doesn’t know what this means, so she looks pleadingly up at Handler.

“Wait.” This is the first true order Handler has given. Her voice is crisp and expectant and makes even Sergeant Kotys pause and look. Handler holds her gaze for a long moment. “She is an asset,” She reiterates firmly. “Do not damage her.”

Sergeant Kotys nods. A moment later, Handler nods too. Both Hound and the sergeant see the nod for what it is.

Permission.

The barrel of Sergeant Kotys’s gun is even more insistent now as it presses against the side of Hound’s muzzle. She’s pressing hard enough to move the metal cage out of place. Hound lets out an uncertain little whine. Her muzzle is tight enough that it hurts as it’s pushed across her skin, but more importantly, this is unfamiliar. But she doesn’t try to stop the sergeant, and she doesn’t stop steadily bucking her hips as she continues to hump Handler’s leg.

Handler gave permission.

Eventually the muzzle comes away from Hound’s face. The strap that attaches it to Hound’s head is still fastened, but it turns sideways and awkwardly hangs against her cheek. It’s a welcome relief, but the crushing pressure of the tight muzzle is almost immediately replaced by the cold of Sergeant Kotys’s handgun. She angles it slightly, wedging the very tip between Hound’s lips and using it to pry them apart.

Hound whimpers. The sergeant isn’t gentle. She butts the gun against Hound’s teeth and folds her lips up against her face. Hound can’t help but drool; she was already drooling a little from the sheer, gratifying pleasure of Handler’s boot against her cunt short-circuiting her devastated brain, but now trickles of saliva are dangling down her face and coating the gun’s barrel.

Sergeant Kotys’s expression twists.

She keeps going. She takes her time exploring, watching Hound’s face twitch whenever she moves the gun like this or like that. Everyone is watching her, as she goes ten times further than any of the other pilots would have dared. They’re not laughing now, they’re just staring, mesmerized by what’s happening.

The sergeant looks mesmerized too. She looks like she can’t stop.

Her pushing and prodding starts to turn more deliberate. Hound is panting from pleasure, and Sergeant Kotys takes advantage to push her gun deeper, forcing Hound’s teeth apart and ramming the hard, cold, metal barrel into her mouth. It slips in deep enough to make Hound choke on the unfamiliar object.

But after that, she starts sucking.

It’s what Sergeant Kotys wants. Hound can tell from the way she moves the gun back and forth, thrusting it, fucking Hound’s face. Hound doesn’t care about the sergeant at all, but she cares about Handler more than anything, and she knows Handler wants this. That alone is enough to fill her with giddy, heady enthusiasm and make her bob her head as she laps pleasingly at the gun barrel despite the acrid taste of burnt metal and oil.

“Fuck,” Sergeant Kotys breathes as she looks down at her.

There’s something in the sergeant’s eyes. Something bright, something growing. She keeps pumping faster with her gun, daring Hound to match her pace. She’s wearing the expression of a girl who's just figuring out that breaking toys is simply a special, better way of playing with them. Her nostrils flare with each breath, and the way her chest rises and falls beneath her uniform is sinful. There are a hundred ways to read what’s going on in her face, but one thing is very obvious to every single person watching.

She is enjoying this.

Hound is enjoying it too. She enjoys everything Handler wants her to do, no matter what, but after grinding her needy cunt into Handler’s boot for so long, her head is full of endorphins that make her stupid and transform anything into pleasure. And beyond that, a part of her simply loves the attention; a simple, brute, canine part of her they hammered into her head to make her more workable.

So, she has to try as hard as she can to be a very very good hound, and that means sucking off Sergeant Kotys’s gun with the rapturous adoration she’d usually reserve for Handler Herself. She doesn’t have to pay attention to the way her hips are moving, that’s automatic, so can lavish all her attention on the stiff rod of the gun’s barrel, lapping at it, drooling on it, taking it as deep as she can into her throat.

It’s still difficult. Hound is delirious on everything now - the pain, the exhaustion, the attention - and she’s trembling desperately as an orgasm builds inside her. It’s messy. Her drool and spittle form a messy stain down the front of her top almost as bad as the one on her pants, and Sergeant Kotys’s gun has been completely defiled with hanging loops of sticky, trembling saliva. Hound’s moaning is back, so bestial and lewd and breathy it makes all the watching pilots blush.

She’s close. Close to finishing her treat.

Then she hears a loud click as Sergeant Kotys flicks off the safety.

The click provokes a shudder from everyone, and Hound is no different. She glances up and sees that Sergeant Kotys’s eyes are as wide as ever. She looks capable of anything. Despite how fucked out of her skull she is, that click reminds Hound of what the object in her mouth is.

It’s a gun, a killing thing, just like her.

That thought is as exciting as it is terrible. The danger makes Hound freeze in her tracks, but only for a moment, because then her body screams at her and reminds her that, no, she can’t stop, not now, Handler didn’t say she could stop, and besides, she’s too fucking close, she can’t take it.

So she starts humping again, moans low and breathy and pitiful, and somehow it feels better than ever. It’s lightning against her cunt. Despite how insanely dangerous it is, Hound can’t help jostling the gun. She can’t remember if Sergeant Kotys’s finger is on the trigger and it’s too late to check because all she can see is white.

All Hound can do is fuck herself stupid and choke herself on the barrel and prepare for the thunderous oblivion that’s coming. Her hips have hit the point of agony but she’s rutting faster than ever, and so is the sergeant, turning Hound’s throat into another cunt with her pistol. The long piece of steel, now dripping wet and body-warm, chokes Hound’s moans, but she doesn’t care how uncomfortable it is. She just wants to explode. She wants the end. Every part of her is desperate for it, even the parts that used to be Sartha Thrace.

When it finally hits her, Hound howls around the gun at the hangar ceiling before finally, blissfully, she can let herself go slack and slump against Handler’s body.

This is as close as she gets to heaven. It’s sacred. It’s her treat. The privilege of getting to touch Handler like that outweighs anything, any potential humiliation, not that Hound cares about things like humiliation. It’s the ultimate affirmation, smothering all doubts as the indelibly-conditioned link between obedience and reward gets another notch deeper.

This is her. This is Hound. This is her purpose.

Unusually, no one is looking at Hound right now. They’re all looking at Sergeant Kotys.

She looks like she’s just cum too, even though she has not touched herself. A few moments later, her face turns, and she looks utterly consumed with disgust and shame. Then the disgust recedes and she fills with calm, but it’s a calm that glows from within and makes her fellow pilots nervous. Sergeant Kotys takes her time as she kneels down and cleans her gun on a dry portion of Hound’s soiled clothing. Then she stands, turns to Handler, and salutes.

“Thank you, sir,” she says crisply. “I think I understand now.”

Handler’s smile widens. She’s pleased with the lesson, and pleased with Hound as she starts to rouse herself from her post-orgasmic stupor and see to the task of licking clean Handler’s boots. “And what do you understand?”

“That this thing isn’t Sartha Thrace, sir,” Sergeant Kotys replies. “There’s no way Sartha Thrace would have ever let me do that.” She relaxes a little and the calm expression slips from her face, replaced with a smirk that is a mirror to Handler’s own. “We broke her.”

She’s still pushing it by speaking to someone as senior as Handler this way, but she senses - correctly - that she can get away with it. The two of them share something now. An appetite, perhaps. An understanding that her fellow pilots have yet to partake in.

“That’s right,” Handler says. “Now, sergeant, please report to my office tomorrow. We need to discuss your conduct today.”

It isn’t a threat. It’s an opportunity. Sergeant Kotys salutes again as she is dismissed. “Yes, sir!”

Handler turns next to her charge. “Up, Hound.”

Hound is so exhausted and stupefied by her orgasm that it takes her a moment to register what’s being asked of her but inevitably, she obeys. With some reluctance, she hauls herself to her feet. Handler’s boots aren’t clean yet. It’s a task that mustn’t be left half-finished.

“You can finish that later, in your kennel,” Hander instructs. She always knows what’s going on inside Hound’s head. “Now, here.”

She reaches past Hound and properly unfastens her muzzle, only so she can fix it back in place and tie it tight. The way she does it is strict, but not even slightly cruel. She makes sure not to pinch Hound’s skin or knot her hair. There’s something gentle, even loving about the way she attaches the muzzle - which the crowd of watching pilots obviously finds extremely creepy.

“There,” Handler says, once she’s finished. And then, in her special voice: “On The Leash.”

Hound submerges instantly, but it takes a long while for Sartha to truly wake up, leaving their body to sway emptily for a moment before Sartha finds her footing. Once she does, just smiles. Handler is here. All is well. Being able to bask in Her presence washes away any lingering confusion, and the aftershocks of pleasure in her own body simply add to her mood.

She doesn’t question them. She has no need. She’s with Handler.

“Come along, Sartha,” Handler says, turning away. “I need to debrief you.”

Sartha nods and trots after her so she can stand at her place, at Handler’s heel. The debriefing is important, she knows. She never remembers her debriefings, but she knows she needs them to stay good. The two of them walk across the hangar deck to the elevator, Handler’s boots clacking loudly against the metal floor. Before they leave Sartha turns back to look.

All her fellow pilots are watching her. Some of them are smiling. Some of them are laughing. Some of their faces are filled with awe. Sartha isn’t surprised by the way they’re staring. She’s used to it. It’s only natural.

She’s a hero, after all.

—

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[zonatcannibalism]

Ok my billy thoughts after yesterdays ep

The William/ billy thing is definitely not like the comics and IMO does harm the character. I get why doing the "he was always like this" thing was too complicated for a tv show (and one they haven't even introduced mephisto in yet) but i would prefer it if he kept his memories of being a kaplan and was just... Different. And could read peoples minds.

However i do have hope that this can go well. I don't think that the end conclusion for his character is going to be "im not related to the kaplans im billy maximoff and fuck this random jewish family". I mean. The only thing he remembers are Tommy and his 3 years with the kaplans. When he told Eddie he wasnt William kaplan he didn't fully say "im not that dude at all who tf is that even" he said hes something "more" and "not entirely." Yes, he comes to the revelation that he is billy maximoff. Whoever if were talking writing, i dont think that the personality crisis ends there for him. Billy is an important character in the show. He has 3 more eps left and unlike characters like alice and jen who allredy found what theyre looking for on the road, he is still actively walking it in search of his goal. There is still development to be had for this character. He didn't just solve his entire internal conflict in episode 2- everything about the way he behaves after that episode shows hes still conflicted as fuck. Yes, he knows where he comes from, but he doesn't really know yet what it means about him as a person. He knows he is billy maximoff, but he doesn't know what being billy maximoff means.

And then we get into the subject of Tommy.

Listen, all writing rules say that there is no magic rock at the end of the road making wishes come true. They get what they're missing (NOT what they're looking for) as they walk the road. If the person writing this knows what they're doing, Tommy isn't going to randomly appear at the end of the road. Billys want for Tommy isnt just the cute brotherly bond- it is his want to belong and really have that sense of certainty and security of who he is. His arc isn't over yet, and thats why he keeps walking the road- he still has that want for belonging and knowing how to live as who he truly is. So. I think that at the end of the road he is either-

1. Realise he has something important with rebecca and jeff, embrace being their son with being a maximoff and live happily ever after as a nice jewish witch boy.

2. Get William kaplans memories

3. Be left on an open note and have his arc completed in another marvel show or movie

Anyway i think if top 2 happens he is going to start going by billy kaplan, showing him reaching a place of fully being comfortable with his identity and knowing who he is and where he belongs. Which will also tie him to comic billy.

However. That is what would have happened if i would be writing the show. That is the progression i would give his character. Everyone on the show is doing a really goor job, but i just can't forget that they are the same people who seemingly wrote in a fan favorite character with huge implications and then said "ha that wasn't real heres a bunch of dick jokes."

Anyway i hope they don't fuck this shit up.

A bunch of really cool details from the episode:

- the dogs name is greg. As in greg norris??????? That is funny as fuck

- billys parasha is about the death of nadav and avihu- the sons of aharon. There is a lot more detail you can go into with this. Its really good symbolism. It also means we can semi accurately track his hebrew and gregorian birthday. Oh the things i am too lazy to do.

- they are reallllllllly walking the line with this eddie dude. I feel like if the fans like him they're going "ha eddie is just another nickname for theodore say hi to teddie altman" and if not they're giving them an off screen break up and just saying billy has a type.

- Agathas boner family reunion shirt lmao

[barbiecrocs]

Serial.

Michael Myers

What seems to be the unluckiest day you've ever had is also the most enjoyable.

tags- fem!reader, horror, soft gore, breaking and entering, size difference if you squint, rough sex, blood, piv, monster fucking (just bc this man is monstrous), dumbification, hair pulling, 90s ig, the mask stays on during sex. WC. 3861

Barbie's note... can't believe I used to be on my knees for this man. Like I used to be in the trenches frfr but if yall like him enjoy. after all I did write it to be read. I might go back into hibernation btw.

 The storm that brought your birthday party to an early end sends most of your friends home for the night. The bipolar winds knock leftover party cups and plates into the pool. The storm seems to be having a party of its own in your backyard. It practically plucks your backyard apart bit by bit. You raise your hands to your temples and rub them in stress. The only thing you could do was sit on the sidelines and watch.

 "Sigh, the sound of rain is so therapeutic…Too bad the storm is destroying your backyard. This is not a pretty sight." You hear an oncoming voice say.

 "Kate, you shouldn't be so relaxed. You have no ride home now. You should've gone home with your sister and the others. It's raining cats and dogs now." You complain and look over to Kate, noticing her outfit.  "Did you get that from my closet? You took my whole ‘My Melody’ set! Even the slippers! I only have one set! The rest are just shirts! I was going to wear that after my shower!" Your eyebrows furrow in distaste for her stealing one of your favorite pajama sets. She could've at least asked right? Man, you really have to kick her out. You roll your eyes.

 "Jeez, take a chill pill, don't get your panties in a twist. I wanted to leave, but I guess I took too long to take a shower and get changed out of my swimsuit, so they left without me. She told me that she was going to come back after dropping everyone else off." She starts to tap on the glass with her acrylic nails as her eyes flicker back and forth between you and the glass. "That doesn’t make any sense, she’d just be wasting more gas and my time.” You roll your eyes. “Jeez, no need to be in such a time crunch, your bed isn’t going anywhere, anywhere far at least,” Kate says. ‘Ugh! So insensitive at all times.’ You think. “You know Kate, I had other things planned tonight!" You huff.

 "Ooh? What did you have planned that was so important? It’s almost midnight-. Oh. OOOH? Is it what I think it is? Were you and Miles going to fuck? Is that why you’ve been hanging by your phone so much?” She says, continuously poking your arm. Your cheeks run hot as she continues to press you with flustering questions. “Maybe that’s why you’ve had such a stick up your ass because you’ve been waiting for him to stick something up there. Are you keeping it ready for him huh? It’ll slip in nice and easy-.” “KATE!” You interrupt, practically steaming with embarrassment and shyness. “What?” She snickers. “Did I hit the bullseye?” “Just… Just shut up!” You stomp. “Fine. Fine. You wanna take another dip in the pool to cool down? Or perhaps the rain, does that sound like fun? Becoming one with the rain. It sounds lovely, an absolute dream." She smirks, unlocking the backdoor. 

 "No, no it doesn't sound like a dream. It's a hot summer night turned lukewarm and I bet the rain is uncomfortably warm too-" "Come on!" She interrupts, yanking you outside so hard that you topple over, good thing you were still in your swimsuit. Can’t say the same for Kate though. 

 She starts to skip around the pool playfully as if the rain was nonexistent. "Kate, ugh! You little shit, you're lucky I'm still wearing my bathing suit! Plus, you're getting my clothes wet! What was even the point of taking a shower if you were going to go back outside? Sigh You know what? You should stay outside and really be one with the rain. Have fun!" You shut the door as she runs over, slipping on the wet pavement.

 "Hey! Don’t leave me out here! Come on, it was just an impulsive decision. I was just having fun since the party was ruined! Loosen up a bit!" She yells, muffled through the thick glass of the backdoor. You put your fingers in your ears and pretend like you can’t hear her. She’ll be fine, the rain was warm, plus there’s a patio set with a waterproof hood so she doesn’t have to stay in the rain.

 'Great, now I have a mixture of chlorine and rainwater on me.' As you walk inside the house you notice that you left the TV on and overhear it from your open kitchen.

 *T.V static* "Emergency news coming to you live from Los Angeles, California. The news channel where we relay urgent news in under five minutes!" Reporter Nancy says while thrusting her hand in the air to represent the number five. "Nancy, stop, this is serious news. We are here to relay information about a serial killer sneaking into backyards and killing residents living there. Numerous calls were made to the emergency hotline, 911, saying that there was someone in their house or giving us details on what the deranged man looked like. He stands somewhere around 6'7 and wears a dark blue jumpsuit. He wears a mask that hollows his eyes and he has brown hair-"

 The TV suddenly cuts off as if it was unplugged, yet everything looks in check. It wasn't unplugged, the TV isn't smoking like it's broken, the power is fine, and it's not like you turned it off manually or remotely. 

'Wow, it's the first time I actually sit down to watch the news and the TV decides to cut off.' You think.

 You bang on the TV in hopes that it'll cut back on, but no luck. "Ugh, old ass T.V.! I told mama that she should've gotten a new one! This shit is so outdated. We have had this since I was ten! That's a decade!" You pout. 

 You look out the glass backdoor and see Kate, happy as ever, texting someone on a huge duck floatie in the pool with little to no rain outside now. Like what the hell? It was just raining. You unlock the sliding door and call out to her. "Hey, Kate. You should come inside now. It would be a hassle for your sister to drive back over here. You should spend the night." You say, cursing yourself for your generosity. "Really? Now you want me to come in? I'm good. There's no need to be so concerned. We're on private property. No one else can enter without permission, that's illegal. Plus, the rain is warm just like you predicted. She should be fine while driving, seriously. I'll just wait until my sister picks me up. You act like I'm ten years old. I don't need supervision." She rolls her eyes.

 You return the same energy with an eye roll. "So naive, your funeral… Just know that I will be locking the door." You mumble and pull in the curtains. If she doesn't care about her safety then neither will you. Your objective was to take a shower, not look after her anyway.

  In the middle of your shower, you hear the house phone ring. You let it ring for a while before realizing that Kate can’t answer the phone for you. With a long sigh, you rinse off, grab a towel, and head to your room, wanting to put some clothes on before going downstairs. You throw on a Kuromi pajama shirt paired with loose black shorts and head downstairs.

 'Was Kate expecting a call? Maybe it’s Kate’s sister and she’s here to pick her up. Maybe it’s Miles? We were supposed to fuck for my birthday tonight.’ You skip down the stairs, hoping that it was the latter, and pick up the cream-colored phone just to hear heavy breathing on the other side. 'What the hell?' You think. 

 As you're about to hang up your movement is forcefully put to a stop. You feel your heart sink as a painful throb begins to travel up your arm, making you drop the phone on the table. You fully tune into this sound as if nothing else around you matters. It’s so loud in your head even though the phone is no longer in your ears. Every nerve inside your body is tense and telling you to hang up, but the breathing is so captivating, trance-like if you will. Listening to the sweet sound as if it was someone humming your favorite tune or singing a soft lullaby. It's so alluring, arousing almost. It mentally sucks you in and the noise alone brings a physical warmth to your skin, supplying false comfort like a hug. It takes away the pain in your arm just as fast as it gave it. As you listen for longer you start to notice the raspiness in the voice. This wasn't like a white noise machine or a random audio on loop. There was someone behind it. In and out, in and out, in and… 

Suddenly, you hear Kate scream bloody murder and you snap out of your trance, unplugging the phone and rushing toward the back door. Yanking the curtains open and analyzing the pool from inside, the scene that is held in your eyes is mortifying.

 Kate lays there on her back, lifeless in a puddle of her blood on the rubber duck floatie. Her hair is a mess and you can see signs of a struggle on her body. The stressed clothing, choke marks, and some of her fake nails are broken off, leaving her fingernails bloody. Her phone is no longer in her hand, but slowly sinking to the bottom of the pool. Heh, it looks like it still works, the screen is on. Blood flows out of the stab wounds on her throat and chest as the light rain continuously tries to wash them away.

 Your eyes frantically scan the pool area for the culprit. And somewhere in the darkness that is the other side of the pool, you see a tall figure step forward, making you jump back from the glass.

 A man in a dark blue bloodied jumpsuit, standing around 6'6 - 6'7, wearing a mask with brown hair. Just seeing this man triggers something in you, as you've unlocked a memory. Have you seen him before? No way, that can't be possible, there's no way that you've seen him and not run away screaming. Then it finally clicks. He was the murderer that was described on TV. He fits the description perfectly. The mask, hair, height, the only thing the description was missing was the blood.

 Goosebumps tatted your skin as you begin to panic. You hold still in hopes that he has bad eyesight or somehow can't see you through the clear glass door, as if that's possible. He remains completely still and at some point, you wonder if he really can't see you. Maybe the mask messes with his vision?

 Suddenly, he starts to make his way around the pool and so you run into the living room to dig in the couch cushions for your mom's pistol that she keeps for "unexpected guests". 

 You hurriedly load the gun and speed back to your place, tripping over a bunched-up rug. You tip back and fall flat on your butt and point the gun in his direction, waiting for him to round the corner. Your hands are shaking from adrenaline and your nerves are high. At this point, you're hyper-aware of everything happening to you. Blood is coursing through your body from head to toe because of this intense situation and yet… you feel a second heartbeat, this one wasn't in your chest, it was between your legs. Why was your body doing this?

 Was this turning you on? You feel obloquy and disappointment fill your heart as you think about such taboo and shameful things. Many thoughts swarm your mind, but everything is put on hold as he rounds the corner.

 He stands in front of you, only the glass door standing between you both, but it isn't long before he busts through it. Glass comes shooting your way and you shut your eyes and cover your face in defense, not realizing that you dropped the gun. You were too late to protect yourself properly and tiny shards of glass grazed your skin. Some cuts are a little deeper than others, but the overall damage was minimal. Luckily, due to the adrenaline, you couldn't feel the pain.

 You open your eyes when you realize that the gun is no longer in your hand. You look around on the floor until you notice unfamiliar shoes planted right in front of you and snap your head up just to see his dark, hollow, eyes staring at you. 

 In a panicked rush, you continue to search for the gun you dropped, trying to keep your eyes on him. Patting the area down like a dumbass, you still couldn't find it. Only for a split second you look away and grab it, but a large hand roughly grabs you by the neck and the other snatches the gun away, throwing it somewhere towards the stairs. Your hands' fling onto the hand choking you, attempting to tear him off of you. No avail, his grip was firm and you were slowly, but surely losing air.

 He lifted you with ease and put your back to the other glass door that wasn't broken. Trying to cause as much of a hassle as you can, you thrash around, kicking and punching, but it wasn't doing anything to his firm body. 'What is this guy made of?'.

You start to feel hot tears prickle in your eyes and your face feels like someone is sticking pins and needles in it. Heat piles in your chest and your heart starts to beat slower and slower. After what seems like a lifetime of flopping around, you finally land a good kick to his stomach. His grip softens on your neck and you loudly gasp for air, coughing up a storm as spit lulls out your mouth and down your chin.

 All too quickly, he grabs your legs and wraps them around his hips to stop you, putting you both in a rather intimate position. With you being pinned to the glass, you stop resisting and catch your breath. 

 As you calm down, you notice just how close he is, how you can practically feel his heart beating through his chest, how his leg is tucked snuggly between your thighs, and all of a sudden your feet can’t touch the floor. The mood between you two was shifting from panicked to steamy. You felt ashamed of yourself for thinking in such a way. You could die right now, but all you could think about was how big and warm his hands were around your neck. You could no longer find it in yourself to even look in his direction. But your surroundings are all too familiar, nothing else besides him can keep your attention.  

 His grip tightens on your thighs as he leans into you. With closing distance, the more you can feel his clothed length slowly push against your thin shorts, twitching and aching to be sheathed in your now soaking, cunt. You wrap your arms around his neck and shut your eyes as you wait for him to plant a kiss on your lips. Instead, you feel surprisingly warm kisses along your jawline to your neck. His lips find your sweet spot, making you jolt in pleasure. As he starts attacking your neck with hickeys and bites. You feel a cold hand travel from one of your thighs to the hem of your shirt. He tugs on the fabric, signaling that he wants it off. “Go ahead.” You say, layering your hand on his as he slips your shirt off. Squeezing one of your boobs with the other hand. 

 Your naked back forcefully pushes up against the cold glass and it isn’t long before a cold shiver rushes up your spine, making your back arch fiercely. “Ah, c-cold!” You hiss. He looks around and spots a comfy couch in the living room, covered in fuzzy throw-over blankets that were used for cold movie nights. He throws you over his shoulder and then plops you onto the couch, his hands immediately moving around your waist and snaking up to your chest. He takes a second to admire the naked flesh in his hands, kneading and kissing it. He’s never felt something so soft and smooth in his life. Considering that his life was a very hard one, this felt like heaven on Earth. 

 You wrap your legs around his waist and pull it closer to your clothed entrance. His fingers loop around your panties and drag them down, swiftly. A string of shlick leading from your pussy to the wet spot on your panties. He brings the panties up to his nose and sniffs them, making your cheeks run hot with a blush. “Perv!” You beat at his chest. 

 He takes off his jumpsuit as he stares down at you. Broad shoulders, muscular chest, dark eyes, and abs sculpted by the gods intimidating and turning you on simultaneously. He continues undressing and pulls his boxers a little bit lower than his thighs. Your eyes almost pop out of your skull from how big his dick is. Yet it fits in his hand perfectly. 

 He gives it a few long strokes before lining himself up at your entrance, raising your hips to level with his tip. “W-wait. I don't think it’ll fit.” You whimper, trying to close your legs, but are blocked by his waist. He stands still for a second, thinking about what to say. Instead, he shrugs his shoulders considering that he doesn’t talk much. He prods his tip at your entrance and slowly sheths himself mostly inside you, letting out a deep guttural groan. Your arms subconsciously try to claw at his back, but can’t wrap around it, clawing on his shoulders at best. “FUCK!” You scream, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “You’re too big.”

 You lay on your back, trying not to move an inch, scared that he might rip you in half just from it being inside you. He puts a calloused hand on your cheek and wipes your tears, trying to soothe you the best he can without words. Your grip on his shoulders tighten when you feel him push in more. “Wait!” You weakly move a hand to his chest. “Stay still for a moment. It stings so bad.” You throw your head back onto the armrest of the couch as you bite your lip in pain, almost drawing blood.

 After what seems like an eternity the pain is finally gone and now you can enjoy the dicking that you were supposed to get from Miles. You wonder what happened to him. Maybe he canceled without telling you. ‘Ugh, dickhead! Ghosting me on my birthday?’  You brush off that thought and tell him you’re fine now. He pulls out halfway and slowly thrusts back in, making you feel every inch of him. Your whole body quivers from how deep he was inside you, plunging farther than your fingers ever could. “Oh fuck!” You claw. He starts to pick up the pace, with each thrust fucking you further into dumbification.

 You practically scream when he starts pounding your g-spot, making you breathless. “So good!!~” You hiccup, trying to focus on not being fucked dumb. So much that you didn't realize him switching positions.

 Suddenly, your stomach is pressed against the back of your brown corduroy sofa as your knees dig into the pillows and cushions beneath you. He stands tall, towering over you from the back with one hand tangled in your hair. His free hand returns to one of your hips and he pulls them closer to his length, lining himself up again. He wastes not even a second going slow this time. He thrusts into you, immediately finding your G-spot and pounding it. The position does wonders for you as his balls repeatedly smack against your clit, making your back arch immensely. That’s it. That was your last straw before turning dumb. Your nails dig into the couch and your tongue hangs out your mouth, trickling drool. He lets out a deep groan when he feels your walls squeeze around his dick and suck him in, signaling that you were close to cumming. 

 A familiar heat starts to spread over your body and it isn’t long before your walls go from squeezing to trembling. “Fuck, Fuck FUCK!!” You thought you screamed, but to him, it just seemed like fucked out babbling. Your pussy gushes around him, triggering his orgasm. He fucks both of you through it, almost to the point of overstimulation. He finally pulls out, allowing all the cum and shlick to ooze out of you. Both of you watch as it drips onto the blanket below you, making you giggle. “Heh, oopsie.” You babble, still fucked out.

 Your tiredness catches up with you and you fall limp on the couch, rocking in and out of consciousness. He picks you up and searches the house for a bathroom. He starts to run the water and steps out for a minute. The sound of running water and a loud thud from the living room snaps you out of your unconscious state. ‘W-what the fuck?’ You stand up on wobbly legs and head out of the bathroom, finding out that he put you in the downstairs one. You feel a cold gust of wind and look towards the front door. It’s open with the man that was just balls deep inside of you standing hunched over. You have a bit of trouble walking over to him, but eventually, you make it. You try to find an opening to see what he was looking at since he’s too tall to look over. 

 You fall on your butt in horror when you realize that it’s Miles, dead and the fully clothed mysterious man was dragging him away. A puddle of dried blood on your porch gives away that he was dead for a while.

 “What. The. FUCK!” You had such a nice time with this man that you forgot he was a murderer. For heaven's sake, he killed your best friend Kate. “Who are you?” So many questions run through your head at the same time. ‘Why did he kill Miles?  When did he have time to kill Miles? Why didn’t he kill you too? How does he know about you?’ He throws Miles over his shoulder and turns back to you. It looks like he’s going to raise a hand at you, instead, he reaches into his jumpsuit and pulls out a gold name tag with the name ‘Micheal’ on it. He throws it into your lap and disappears into the darkness of the night. “What…What the fuck?”

[paviastrashyrings]

can i request a horropedia x reader with the “rude to everyone but loving to their partner” trope? (reader is the rude one)🫶🏻 male reader if possible

More of the lovely Nerdy Nerd? How could i possibly say no. Thank you for your submission and it is absolutely my pleasure to serve you. (side note: could not be more on the nail for how i am irl)

Without further ado, dear readers, lets get into another dream with Horropedia.

You were...rough around the edges, so to speak. Uncaring and cold towards most people.

If someone touched you, you'd snap at them. If someone came at you with an attitude, you'd match it.

Everyone associated with you was used to your foul mouth and bad mood.

Except one person, of course.

He had never understood why everyone spoke so poorly of your behavior until he witnessed first hand how "grouchy" you were with others.

"Hes not so bad." he'd try to defend you, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish smile.

"Dude he literally insulted me to my face because I bumped into him." one coworker recalls, angered by the mere memory.

It wasnt like you were trying to be mean, people just dont have spatial awareness.

They were right there.

Nothing pushed them into you.

They didn't even trip.

They just were dumb and didn't look where they were going. That's on them.

He would listen to you recall your side of the story, your tone soft and even because it was him.

"We really gotta work on your...people skills." he hums, but in complete honesty he was impressed how you were so able to stand your ground.

One day, someone decided to really push their luck. Yapping about how annoying "that weirdo, horropedia or whatever that guys name is" was.

Safe to say you were pissed, and he was in their direct vicinity too.

once you noticed that he was RIGHT THERE being spoken ill about?

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" you spat with malice, turning around so fast people would assume you were facing them the whole time.

You went off of them, until Joshua stepped in, equally shocked but also mildly amused by the expression on the culprits face.

"woah hey, no need to get angry." There was full and ardent need to get angry, they just insulted him to his face and he was just gonna take that? hell no, not on your damn watch.

He turns around and politely apologizes to the culprit, "So sorry about that, hes trying to work on his temper.."

He guides you away, still secretly impressed by your anger. Nobody really ever defended him like that, especially in front of a whole establishment full of people.

"I mean seriously can you believe them? Talking shit about you like that in front of you?" you'd start almost as soon as the culprit was out of earshot, just to keep him happy. You wouldn't have cared if they had heard you, you already spat so much profanity in their direction anyways.

"You know it happens all the time, I'm not exactly a stranger to it." which you couldn't understand. How does he tolerate such blatant disrespect, I mean sure he's a little strange and nerdy but that doesn't hurt anyone.

"Yeah but you don't deserve that, you didn't even do anything." you'd murmur, looking away. You look like a scolded dog, which he thought was adorable.

What he didn't remark on was the clear difference in how you spoke to others and how you spoke to him.

you were still frustrated, temper still on high, and yet you held back profanity and sulked instead of snapping at him.

He definitely noticed though, you were so sweet to him that it was hard not to notice.

He'll let you off for just this once, but the next time he catches you he'll have to scold you properly.

He won't admit that he's enjoying the special treatment, he's happy you care about him so much.

but maybe tone it down a little?

Only sometimes though

Well, this one was very fun to write. Thank you once again, dear readers, your support and kind words mean the world. We will dream once again, come find me soon <3. signed, yours forever Moon.

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Watching the Show Fanfic FMAB

@anastasian-dreamer suggested writing a big rambling post about the FMAB watches the future Au to get it off my chest and for me to offer people to send asks. You want a scene/me to explain how i’d handle something? Send it it!

 So how would this go?

First the background: 

First: Edward is a trans man. He's known from childhood. We dont have transphobia in Amestris or in this world. Envy is genderfluid and Father is literal shadows in a human form. Gender makes zero sense to them and they don't allow bigotry they'd be affected by.

 We’re going to give them testosterone but Ed isn't on it because 1) he doesn't want to take it while Al is in the armour (and that is a frequent discussion) and 2) he's not sure if he wants to. He's a fairly androgynous person and he is small chested. He’s one of the lucky assholes who have very light periods (Winry hates him for it) and its alright. He doesn't want to take it also because a part of him wants kids and he’s nervous it will lower his chances. He also knows adoption is still there so he is a bit torn. I honestly just want to explore this concept.

Second: this is also a soulmate AU. I'm thinking there are multiple types of soulmates: paternal/child, platonic, romantic and enemies. 

 Now, you're born with the paternal ones (and the parent gets their when the child is born) but the others happen later. You are five when you get your platonic and romantic; then you’re ten when you get the enemy one.

 Ed and Al are both born with a red salamander on their shoulders and the flamel Izumi has on her chest. I've read a few ‘your own mark is on your chest’ so we’re going with that. These marks tend to be something that can define you. Edward has the alchemy sign for human on his chest and Al has the helmet of his armour. 

 Hohenheim tries not to let it play on his mind. 

When they turn five, Edward gets a sword and the ouroboros on his arm, while Al gets a kunai. 

 The boys both get a silver gear which is Winry for platonic to. (how can they tell? Vibes. Literal vibes)

 When they're ten, Ed is so confused why they get more ouroboros marks. But he's busy with the transmutation. So big deal. We all know how that ends.

 But Ed also is surprised when he gets a mark when he’s eleven.

( “It kind of looks like the head of a long-haired dog?” 

 “It does. Weird.”)

Ling gets the sign for human and the ouroboros. As well he gains a silver blade for a friend (Lan Fan), the child mark of a long haired dog, and the enemy tattoos of ouroboros along with some family. (he also gains the panda friend mark of the heiress to the Chang family) 

 Greed has a sword and the sign for human, along with markings for all his Chimera buddies and the long haired dog for a child. 

Three: Roy starts off being very nervous about the kids. He sees Al and knows its his soul son. He would keep it quiet if he didn't know that his soulmate Maes would spill the beans. He tells the boys. Edward is so angry that of course it's his fuck up that defines his brother. 

 Roy and Ed keep the antagonism but it’s just their thing. They're like that. Al gets to have a cat that stays with Roy. 

 Also: three way bonds like Roy, Hughes and Gracia aren't uncommon. However due to the need for alchemists in the East Roy is based there. He has a house and makes trips bi weekly to see his soulmates. They also make trips bi weekly so they basically see each other each week.

Four: Various countries have different views on Soulmateds. Amestris believes that while there is a bond its a choice in the end. You don’t need to marry/befriend/whatever your bond is. While about 90% of the time it does happen, there's then 10% everyone knows. 

 Xing fully believes in them and soulmarks are a great honour. There's been a few times clans will join together as an heir will find their partner in another, making an iron clad bond. Soul children are precious and enemies are the utmost awfulness. 

Five: I’m tossing in a few OCs. One is named Amelia Cross. My original story for her is she is the brother’s elder sister from Hohenheim having a one night stand years ago. Theres a whole plot. But for here she's simply the Alchemist that helped make the soldiers into human chimeras before she quit the military. (and was let go because she did human transmutation)

 The other is Amelia’s soul daughter Elaine who is a chimera herself and Ishvalan. Its a whole thing. 

Lets go to the start.

 Now: I think this story would start right after Tucker makes Nina into a Chimera but before the boys see her. 

 And I kinda want to keep to my theme of ‘ah yes everyone sees it’ cause I can. How does this happen? Alchemy. A bunch of stones (some dropped by Hohenheim, some in the ground from Father) bonded together. An alchemist in the region was doing human transmutation to bring back their wife, the stones hijacked it (the alchemist lost their heart) and Truth went: you know why not. (does it make sense? No but I'm keeping it)

 So everyone in the world is watching now. And we don't start with the brothers.

 We start with Slave 23, speaking to the dwarf in the flask. We follow him as he walks to Xing, as he walks the world. We follow him to Trisha and the boys. We see him put pieces together and realize what happened to Xerxes will happen again. Of course we don't actually know YET. As far as anyone can tell he found signs of the Dwarf and went hunting.

 There's also the drama of Ling seeing the marks on Ed and Mei also seeing hers on Al. And like every other reaction to. (the Homunculi are fucking baffled that this kid somehow got a mark for one of them. Hohenheim is freaking out)

 We watch as he leaves. Then we cut to the boys fighting the Freezing Alchemist. 

Now 2003 FMA is really good at the build up so i'll probably borrow from them but I like the freezer beginning. So that's going on. And of course we learn Roy is the parental soulmate, and its all cute…

 And then we learn of the Taboo.

 I 100% think Bradley makes a bullshit claim he knew and decided since a CHILD was willing to join the military and all their trauma he let it slide. Its on the radio.

 Its all ‘aww poor little meow meows’ kind of stuff. Ed and Al hate it, go to Tucker and FUCK NINA?

 Course since Ed’s child mark is shown he claims its destiny. Ed kicks his ass, and then Nina gets to go to grandpa Roy’s place while Amelia gets contacted by one of the soldiers who is a chimera. 

 Which side note: when that happens on screen Ling is busy discussing how to murder Tucker with Lan Fan and Fu (and his clan cause that is their heir’s daughter) while Greed and the others are heading to kick some ass. 

But after the freezing alchemist we get more flashbacks to the boys in the first few years of military, and then so on.

Themes of the story: 

 -A theme there is the discussion of family. I really want the idea of family to play a huge part in this because Al and Ed’s story revolves around their relationship. So a lot of focus is on this. But also I would explore rejecting family. 

 Greed rejects his ‘siblings’. The boys reject Hohenheim because he isn't a bad person but he sure is a bad father (and yes he is. I saw one post defending it but lets be real, abandoning your family is abandoning them no matter what.) Ling rejects some of his siblings. 

 Family is important but it’s family of choice that matters. You can choose your family and many choose their blood family but they also reject it.

 -Romance is the next theme, and exploring what its like to have romantic soulmates. Like I really want some drama since Edward has been raised knowing he doesn't need to be with his romantics mixed with Greed ‘its all mine’ and Ling ‘destiny bound us’. Like they choose to be together of course but its a thing. 

 We have the themes of FMA though included.

Other notes:

 -I do know Ed keeps alchemy and both his automail parts. Not sure how but he does.

 -Mei throws herself into finding out how to free her soulmate. 

 -Mei and Xao Mei both arrive with Ling due to the alliance and that they are platonics.

 -I want to keep Ling being possessed but also I think Father actually is weirdly interested in the soul bond? I think his attempts at being perfect isn't just about like being a god but also being better then humans. And here is a being he's made having a soulmate. Two in fact. And a soul child! He's very invested. So he somehow has it that they can share the bond like they do in canon? I dunno. I'd need to work on it. 

 -Amelia is killed by Scar and it sparks a large subplot because her romantic is actually Kimblee. She visits him every year on his birthday and he's allowed out to her funeral where Elaine is. Amelia and Elaine had a falling out after some stuff but Elaine is pretty messed up. Elaine is also Kimblee’s soul child. Also Elaine is Winry’s romantic soulmate. Its a mess. 

 -I kinda think Ling having Ed as his soulmate puts him right at the top for heirs because ‘ah son of the Sage’ kind of thing mixed in with ‘the other soulmate is immortal’

 -Mrs. Bradley is actually in the know because Pride has her mark as a friend and Wrath couldn't lie to her. They never told Father until after the reveal of Greed’s soulmates but yeah she got told early on. She is subtly talking them away from the plans but it's slow going. (I kinda would want to set up Wrath in Greed’s place as a sacrifice)

[littlebetesofeverything]

Welcome to Night Vale Ep 14

Hope you had a good weekend. I did, and now I am unsure how this week will be. Got my laundry though, so that's a win!

Brb, I gotta finally look up these books they keep advertising for.

The obelisk came from Egypt, and so did cats. Solved that mystery for you. You're welcome

Oh wow, it is a new year, wish it was that time for me in the USA.

Hey let me have that imaginary waterfront, Cecil. I would kill to actually get to go to the beach right now.

Oh fuck, it's Cas! The suitcase is new but I know my tan coats.

We had shared nightmares mentioned in a different episode, so good on the continuity.

Cecil, I think the only man in your dreams is Carlos. I forgive you for not remembering his face.

Careers in Night Vale? this is gonna be good. Grabbing the popcorn for this one. The terrible things do not make me a cretin, they make me Satan's favorite

OHHH the underground city! I love continuity! Uhhh, I don't know if I want to see a war. Cecil, I wouldn't assume anything about these people. Child kings can be negotiated with though.

This is giving War of the Worlds vibes, ngl

Blame everything on Steve Carlsberg. Everyone needs a scapegoat.

Yeah, no one should mess with Josie and her angels. But, that doesn't go against my Cas theory.

Prepared statements, and lavish birthdays right before a budget is just not enough? Love that, really.

Birthdays can't be fake, I need one good thing to look forward to in August.

These might be better than the usual astrology notes in newspapers.

Gulping, one easy way to get to choking, which leads to a trip to the hospital sometimes.

I love this generic description. Is it the doctor's psychic paper turned into a human? That is my second guess.

Don't let him be in the dog park, I heard we were supposed to not go there.

15 is a child, Cecil. God, I sound like the parents of every Disney movie. but also, that mom is a mood.

The angel made a phone call? Why does it sound more like Carlos called you, except for the black beam. In that case I believe you Cecil, it was an angel.

Oh shit, was it a demon? or from the underground world under the bowling alley?

You know, not every mystery NEEDS to be answered. Nicely said, Cecil.

I do write down everything I don't comprehend. That's how I study, duh.

I miss the scientist Carlos, but I like the continuity of various things around Night Vale. BUt alas, it is time for bed for me. All good future doctors need their sleep after all.

[antisatiric]

1, 7, and 20 for the choosing violence meme!

1- the character everyone gets wrong.

oh boy. i could go a lot of different directions with this, but i think i'm going to have to stick with saying twain even though that's kind of a cop-out answer just because of my own personal grievances. i don't particularly want to seem like i'm someone sitting on a high horse and declaring everyone else who's ever written twain was wrong, but i think because of the way a lot of the non-japanese (and some of the japanese authors introduced later into the plot) authors have been handled in bsd that there's a general idea among people who create twain content to handle his character in... certain, superfluous ways that do a great disservice to the ideas the author he was based on loved to tackle.

obviously basing a portrayal only off of what we seen in bungou stray dogs i can generally see where the wider fandom GETS "guy who makes dirty jokes and loves sex all the time" from and granted most of the written content for him IS just porn without plot, but i think that interpretation to him is doing a great disservice to a character who was already snubbed by the writing anyway. i've definitely told this to you before, meechi, so sorry for giving you an answer you've heard from me like a thousand times but i jump at the chance to say this.

7- what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

actually, it was dazai.

going into bsd i was really neutral about him because i'm not generally the sort of person who gravitates towards major characters at first, and nobody in the little fandom circle i'd integrated myself into liked him very much. then when i started to get further into the fandom and seeing how much of the content was focused around him either at the expense of or just in the foreground of content for other characters, i gradually started to get a little more upset, especially considering how generally shallow the fandom discussions surrounding him tended to be. like, he started to PISS ME OFF (all caps) every time i saw him because of things like that---i was in a bad position though, since most of the reason for his constant prevalence was also the merch and marketing around the manga and anime, which also tended to prioritize him...

haha, but i've actually started liking dazai as a character more recently. i think i gave him a lot of undeserved grief---well, HE deserves grief, but he's much more well-written and just overall a better character than my desperate-for-content-of-minor-characters brain was willing to give him credit for. i credit @longerhuman as a large part of the reason why i'm able to enjoy dazai more as a character now---quin does a fantastic job in terms of characterization and analysis and is altogether THE dazai writer i have ever written with on this webbed site.

20- part of canon you found tedious or boring.

um, we'll answer this about bungou stray dogs as well. all of the arc that's just ended recently. all of it. i'm so serious---i got into bsd when i was fourteen, and this arc had just started. i'm twenty now. this arc has been going on for six years. i literally stopped actively keeping up with new chapter releases because i was so fucking tired of this arc. i'm sorry. it was a nightmare and i'm glad it's over even if it did introduce my second favorite bsd character (suehiro tetcho <3333).

i love being a hater. / accepting.

[gamer2002]

Thoughts on Project Eden’s Garden

So, I played PEG, the Danganronpa fangame, and I have couple of thoughts.

First of all, it’s really professionally done. If that wasn’t a stated fangame, you wouldn’t be able to tell much of a difference from V3. Voice acting is also good, particularly Tozu’s VA makes fantastic job at making a villain that takes plenty of good things from Monokuma but is still his own unique thing.

The prologue trial over a dummy from a past event is a good introduction. It serves well as a demo case and establishes the main players of the cast. Even though Eva is more active during pre-crime portion, but Grace and Wolfgang do make a strong impression. Ulysses was also good, and everyone else was alright. But the case was too small to have everyone a chance to shine. But they do an interesting collection of DR-like characters.

My mixed feelings are with the protagonist. I do appreciate the idea of having an anti-hero, which is a good change of pace, but Damon… The writers are following the outline that was used for other, more pure, Ronpa’s heroes, and it doesn’t work that well with Damon. Particularly, we didn’t get any early detail about their past, which wasn’t that necessary, because most of them were using an everyman archetype. But Damon is supposed to be successful, which makes him arrogant, but we know nothing about his successes. In the Groundhog Day Murray plays similar archetype of a somewhat successful guy that let too much get into his head, but he does have a clearly established success of working for the local TV. Damon narrates about his past successes, but gives no specifics that establish his reason to think of himself highly. He comes quite ignorant, being unaware of Wenona, the actual elitist top dog of the group.

He does improve during the debate, being able to keep his cool through it. I like also the side he shows if you use Pathos. Damon acknowledges that Wolfgang maybe isn’t making the most convincing argument, but he is the only one experienced with actual crimes, on an Ultimate level, so him stating that 28 stab wounds is obviously too fucking extreme for self-defense means something. This side of Damon shows he respects genuine talent and is capable of recognizing proper authority on a particular subject, even if he could’ve undermined them with arguments. It’s especially good moment, because it depends on the player.

But the dude still knows nothing about tact. I understand that he is shocked like everyone else, when the Killing Game is revealed, and I agree that people shouldn’t forget about being realistic in such scenarios. And I agree with him that he has contributed more to the debate than the commie who thought the gun was the murder weapon. But there were other situations where Ultimate Debater showed no tact whatsoever, while the guy should have some knowledge on swaying people to his side.

It’s fine to have a MC that needs to learn his lesson, but we still need to understand from where MC is coming from. Like, Damon has an experience with some Ultimate Pointless Talent that has was just using his fame to encourage his supporters to attacks those that criticize him. Maybe Damon ended up beaten up, for making a perfectly sound a logical critique of that Ultimate. Which is why he despises violence and undeserved recognition, and sees that Ultimate in every other that is in ‘noncontributing to the society’ category. This is why ‘we are Ultimates, therefore we all are here to improve the world!’ makes him unable to stop from being condescending. It’s just an example, it doesn’t have to be a tragic backstory, but it has to be something. Other example is showing Damon genuinely hard working to be able to contribute to the society, while seeing other Ultimate peers just enjoying fruits of their fame after they got their titles. 

Overall, I appreciate the production values and the writing, but the novel anti-hero protagonist could have a bit better introduction.

[sojirosteacup]

❄️ and 🧩

Either/or

(or both...🙏)

I have a headache rn so please ignore any spelling mistakes

I'm gonna talk about hanadan in all those answers bc its the fandom i write fic for

❄️ ⇢ what’s your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

I have so many ideas i want to write but i never finish the first draft or never get around to writing it at all. I'm gonna say a few ones bc if i said everything we would be here the whole day and i wouldn't have any drafts left :

sometimes i have some crazy ideas that would be great on paper but i never manage to write bcs it would take me too long to finish. Like, years ago I had a plot idea that was "amnesia plot, but instead of thinking yumi is his girlfriend, Junpyo thinks jihoo is his boyfriend." I still think this would be incredibly funny to write, but it would need many chapters to finish... and i don't know how i would finish this. Bc making Junpyo/Jihoo get together is tempting, but i can't do this to Jandi, lol. Maybe i should make it a throuple but then it would take even longer to develop.

I also have many ideas with no plot tied to them, which makes things complicated bc, well, i need a plot to write the fic. Like I really want to write a animal-human hybrid Au fic for them which is just an excuse to write them as cat/dog/whateverboys but i have no excuse plot for it. My mind is just "fuck yeah, foxboy yijung!" and then no plot for that idea. I also sometimes want to write a F4 royalty!au but then i stop and remember that 1- there is already a manga chapter with that concept and i don't want it to feel like a copy 2- wtf would even be the plot?

And then there is the ships-nobody-cares-about category. I kind of have a draft for a Sakurako/Kazuya oneshot but who would even read it? 😭 Like, nobody even posts in the animanga tag for this fandom to begin with.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

I'm very picky with the fic I read, so basically anything could make me click away if I'm not in the mood. Some of the reasons are obvious stuff most people can agree with like "the entire fic is one single paragraph block with no breaks" or untagged watersports. But one thing that makes me click away and i keep running into is character or ship bashing. I don't care if the fic has my otp in it, i don't want to read your rant in the author's notes about how junpyo is a shitty person or whatever. Even worse if the character you are bashing is half of the couple in your fic, bc why are you writing about it in the first place? And when it's in the fic i can tell the difference between a character disliking the other and the author disliking the character. And while i am all for disliking whatever character you want, i just have like... *checks list* ...two characters i actively dislike in the hanadan franchise, and they are both minor characters, so whatever bashing i see is likely to be about someone i like and i'm not gonna read that.

One thing I also dislike but won't make me click away because it seems that everyone and their mother does it in this fandom is when people tag a couple that is not endgame in the fic (ex: a rui/tsukushi fic where she starts dating tsukasa, but she breaks up with him for them to get together but the writer still tags tsukasa/tsukushi anyway.) WHY ARE YOU MAKING IT HARDER FOR ME TO FIND WHAT I WANT?! OR WHAT YOU WANT?! Same thing happens with fics of adaptations. If someone is writing a fic for, say, F4 Thailand, THERE IS NO NEED TO PUT IT IN THE TAG FOR THE MANGA AND THE KDRAMA AND METEOR GARDEN AND THE JDRAMA. Even worse when they do with the manga and jdrama bc the characters have the same names, so it happened more than once for me to click on a fic thinking its about the anime or manga but, surprise! It's a jdrama fic bc they are talking about something that has not happened in the manga at all. It's exhausting and seems impossible to avoid.

[mesemoa-translations]

Wachu from ThinkingDogs: The live was fun!!! Thanks everyone!!!

A photo with Nichan & Forgeru! We’re close friends now!!!

#ThinkingDogs #GrandStand #MeseMoa

Forgeru: I've seen the bassist Wachu~san🎸 on Youtube before he joined Thinking Dogs, and now I've met him in person 👀💥 He's a really kind person!

Nichan: It was fun talking to you ☺️

[sorikkung]

IM BACK ON MY BULLSHIT AFTER REREADING ACT 1 NEW AND IMPROVED W MORE BRAINROT LESGO!!!

ive literally just been sending myself discord messages to a private channel while i read SKFDJGKSJF so here is. the compilation i guess

ok so rereading the first few chapters and. i completely forgot san smiled at mc straight away what was that. was it just bc he thought she was hot or did they already know shed be on that ship i needa know how early the plan was set in action... was this entire stowaway thing staged or was it only when san found her in the cargo bay that they were like yup shes a siren (maybe via seonghwa's siren powers sensing her, or when they took her jacket off to treat her arm maybe they saw the tattoo or sumn) like... i get the feeling they knew long before she first revealed it to anyone, based on how san and seonghwas entire relationships w her were done deliberately to gain her trust, it rly just changes the entire way i view these first few chapters its INSANE. i knew things would be drastically different upon a reread but like THIS different... these first chapters seem so light hearted and almost like, typical scifi story beginnings, like typical not as in bad but just standard for the genre yk, like oooh she impresses the captain and earns her place on the ship and they all have tragic backstories... but now knowing there is So Much More going on underneath makes this so much more sinister its Haunting. i fucking love it

also her saying wooyo looks vaguely familiar got me bc it could so easily be read as her seeing his glimpse of tan skin n dark hair before passing out, but no, that vague familiarity was from her past wasnt it... that first meeting w them hits so different knowing wooyo knows who she is the entire time. my god.

i also wanna note how drastically different the writing feels going back - it was good from the start, but only now that im rereading do i realise how much you've improved over the course of writing?? which is to be expected, writing something for this long, but wow, its cool to see the progression of such improvement yk. you went from good writing to Great writing to Every Fucking Line Is Rewiring My Brain Stem. goals

yeah see seonghwa saying joong doesnt make decisions on a whim and obviously decided she could stay long before he told her... he had to have known she was a siren already, right? like, why else would he decide to let her stay... unless it was just bc shes the ghost of eros and he doesnt know the details of that but like, idk, im not buying it

OH and this is reminding me of another thing i cant tell if this is just a progression of writing thing or if its part of the act they put on but like. san and seonghwa seemed like they felt pretty bad about killing up until this point. like seonghwa on the ship saying they dont have to kill everyone vs san wanting so badly to keep mc alive. this is part of why i think they mustve known she was a siren on that ship somehow bc yeah san did the same thing to jongho but we also know that hongjoong knew abt jongho right away. the san we know now doesnt seem like he holds much remorse for what he does bc hes just the captains loyal black dog… tho i do remember him feeling pretty bad abt it in the earlier chapters, i cant tell if thats just something he worked thru w mc or if it was just part of the act to gain her trust. man. i be doubting EVERYTHING now 😭 😭 😭

god i MISSEDDD the feisty sassy interactions w hwa and the mc omg things have gotten so grim now i literally forgot this was their original dynamic… “You’re so feisty, princess. If I didn’t know how dangerous you truly are, I might ask you to spar with me one day.” “You’re so romantic, pretty boy. I’m sure all the ladies love when you say that.” “All the ladies and men, in fact." i still fucking love that entire exchange its so good i love them

"and yet again you find yourself shocked by the boldness of this crew." i am once again wondering how much of this is just them being flirty bastards and how much of it was a LIE… or at least orchestrated SDKFJHKSDFHKSKFD also “Aren’t you a bit too cheeky for a criminal?” “Is there a special guide I should be following? ‘Proper ways to be a criminal’? Rule number one: don’t be cheeky with princess, it gets on her nerves.” is another really good exchange GOD I RLY FORGOT ABT ALL THIS I MISSED IT SO BAD i do love me some good banter. now when hwa uses the nickname princess it just feels so sad 😭 😭 😭

"It’s the little shit who plugged an anesthesia shot into your neck." i love it when fics refer to wooyo as some little shit or anything along the sorts its like. sooo true bestie i see we are thinking abt the same man <3 i love him sm

damn i forgot wooyoung was this Nervous at first, what was up w that… is it bc mc was there?? cause he seems mighty comfortable w the rest of em now SJKFDGKJSFD but then again that could just be after everything that happened afterwards. now i wonder if the real reason he went into the medbay was bc he missed her or sumn.

NOW I FEEL REALLY BAD FOR WOOYO, SEEING HIS LONG LOST CHILDHOOD FRIEND AND THE FIRST THING THEY WANNA DO IS SOCK HIM IN THE NOSE 😭 😭 😭

“Because you’re only good at causing problems, not fucking solving them." DAMN WTF DID WOOYO DO THAT MADE SAN SO MEAN TO HIM 😭 I DONT REMEEMBER THIS…

“In all the time you have worked together, you should know by now how San behaves and that he says things he doesn’t mean.” this hits a lil different now too, is he actually mad at wooyo or just tryna defend mc…. yeah im rly just here doubting every single interaction they have now SJDFKKJSFDHKSDF

"his amount of respect for his captain seemed lackluster at best." LMFAO IF ONLY SHE KNEW. ok so this fr has to be an act bc san would do anything hongjoong asked of him, so this is obviously him tryna appeal to mc as someone who also doesnt always agree w authority so she can confide in him, right?

"Yeosang won the mental battle. He wormed his way into San’s mind and won that way." at… telling him to shut the fuck up?? 😭 😭 howd That worm into his mind 😭

"you seem a bit more like the type who needs to be put in place rather than the other way around.” i rmb first reading this and thinking DAMN that is so ballsy for a man like yeosang to say, but is he just comfortable around her real quickly bc he knew her already. or, well, not comfortable, but comfortable enough to tease her like that hskdfgkjskdjfgsdf

“Oh? I didn’t know that you were an Elitist." yeosang you little shit SDFKJGKSDFKHSFJKDH

this whole interaction with yeosang is sending me now that i know he knows… my god hes such a little SHIT JDKFGKSDFKH

"For someone who is supposed to be a traitor, he sure seems to have a lot of pride in his home and military…" and now im wondering if yeosang really is still prideful which is. entirely possible and i could be reading too far into it or. is he tryna jog a memory….

“You seem to be the type to balance him out with calmness and humility. At least that’s the aura I get from you. Yeosang always feels so angry but you exude the opposite of that.” this bitch? mc? ghost of eros? CALM? SFDKJHSKDFHKSFDK girlies been tryna question n fight every bitch since being put on the ship but like, sure, i guess… lmfaoooo

"You can only hope that he somehow missed the marking on your back." suppose theres a chance he saw it here, but… i doubt it my bets are still on he knew the whole time shkdjfgksdf but i will see if he pays more/different attention to her after this 👁️

“Good girl. See, we can make you obedient yet.” yeah even with the context of all the future chapters what the everloving FUCK was THAT. are he and wooyoung not together already yet no they were together since long before the horizon right. i still dont know what hes playing at here flirting w her so much 😭

“Before it’s all over? How do you think this is going to end, Y/n?” how does HE think its gonna end? do he and wooyo and the others know what the big 3 were plotting to get to our ghost? i was under the impression only they knew about the whole deception to earn her trust thing, esp given how hongjoong treats yunho and manipulates him i figured the others would be the same but like… what answer is yeosang expecting to hear, here?

"And Hongjoong certainly isn’t the type to keep slaves, despite how he might come across sometimes. There’s a difference between being harsh and inhumane.” me when i manipulate peoples feelings, insecurities, trauma and relationships but i draw the line at keeping slaves… SDFKJGJKSDFKJHSDKJF i think hes still harsh and inhumane babes but ok!

“I know one thing for certain. You are not an Elitist.” yeah so he TOTALLY knew she was a siren i forgot abt this SJKDFKJHSKJDFH but hes waiting for her to say it herself, isnt he?

“I have studied Elitists in the past, and I am one myself." no the fuck you aint. SDFKJHKSJFHKJSFDKJHSKFD i used to think joong might be a siren as well himself but seonghwa would know if he was after sleeping w him so long and he still said without mc they only have One siren so… either hes a spectre, which, has no reason to hide from everyone i dont imagine, or hes a normie… my bets are on normie. so used to not being taken seriously for his class that he keeps it a secret and has a need to prove himself. honestly with the new interim id almost believe hongjoong was an elitist More if it werent for yeosang saying theres only one real elitist on the ship and its him SDFKJHSKFHKSDF

reading the first interims now and… man its crazy to think how Soft hongjoong was at the start. he was still cutthroat and ruthless, but he seems so much smaller here. like between this interim and the latest hongjoong interim, you can really tell just how far down he's spiralled. its fascinating. i love character development for the worse <3

goddamn all his worry about his crew members and being scared of breaking their trust… wheres this energy w ghosty SDKFJGKSJFGKSFDKG how far he's fallen fr…

"I don’t know how to fix him. I need to fix him. I need to help him. I just have to do something.” and he calls out mc for having a saviour complex… 🤭

anyway that was my rereading experience but heres some anecdotes from my two friends i dragged into it who Also happened to just finish act 1 and its interims around the same time

>friend 1 messages me randomly "this fic is getting me emotional wtf" and changes the topic when i ask them to elaborate KSJDFGKJ

they then (the next day) send me this screenshot followed by "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

and this one followed by "FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK"

then i asked what they think of it overall so far and they said is very good, theyre excited for the pace to pick up!

meanwhile friend number 2 was going thru it so i am suppling screenshots (mind the lack of cohesion theres conversations in between some of these but im tryna cap just whats strictly relevant LMFAO)

(this was the screenshot they attached w the withered wojack)

anyway if these friends r seeing this sorry for exposing u lol but i am at least preserving ur anonymity to a number <3 actually wait you shouldnt be reading this bc mad spoilers. well ANYWAY. i imagine the only one reading this far is the author so caly i hope this brings u some modicum of joy <3 KSJFDJGKSDFKJ onto the next act!! 🤩🤩🤩

tbh it was rly good timing that we all finished the act around the same time i have no idea what im gonna do when the reading inevitably gets disjointed (haha unless...?) i guess id chuck those into your ask box??? or would dming you be ok. man either way i am flooding the fuck outta ur notifs lately and i apologise do lmk if you want me to slow down SKDJFGJKSFKDJGSKJFD hope ur having a good day regardless :>

mists of celeste ➻ one

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 4.5k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you 

⇐ previous | next ⇒

mists of celeste act one ➻ part one

‎

“You said that you’re with the military? I don’t recall the military having ships as small as yours.” If possible, your eyes would roll all the way back in your head at the man’s comment. Instead, you plaster a smile on your lips, gaze flitting around the bridge as you do. 

“Yes, Ambassador Salvadore. They sent me on a transport ship, as I am here to relieve the captain of his duties—”

“That is not necessary, Miss.”

“—on military orders, Ambassador.” Your grin continues to stretch as you gauge the state of the bridge. It is severely lacking in terms of soldiers, which is good for you on multiple fronts, but the ambassador before you is proving to be more difficult than you first anticipated.

Keep reading

[subdee]

Chainsaw Man

More than a week after exposure, I finally tested positive for COVID (still no symptoms though and feel fine - thank you new booster vaccines). 

Anyway since I’m stuck at home quarantining as per the school’s policy, I went and read Chainsaw Man so I could weigh in on The Makima Debates(TM) and once again.... people complaining about this character are lacking in genre awareness.   They haven’t read enough seinan horror manga! 

If you know anything about seinan manga, you’ll realize this comic is a sex and gorefest.   The worldbuilding, characterization, etc are set up for maximum fanservice and brutality.   Even the tender moments are tender in that "aw, the main character is totally desensitized to gore  but he still cares when the cat dies" kind of way.  Even the sympathetic moments are sympathetic in that “aw, all the main character wants to do is touch boobs but he won’t do it without permission” kind of way! 

As for Makima, yes she’s taking advantage of him the way she also took advantage of Aki... yes she is older and using her sexuality to manipulate everyone around her but particularly the younger characters.. and yes, there is so much kink stuff going on with her character.  Like c'mon in the anime opening animation she's walking Denji on a leash like a dog!!!  It ain’t subtle.   People who think this means the author has the same kink are being reductive, though - there's no way to know if that's the author's preference or if he just thought it'd be fun and sexy to write that dynamic into his story...

...and I mean really write that dynamic exactly into the story, including giving  Denji lines like "I just don't want to think anymore please tell me what to do" that get to the heart of the appeal of BDSM.  Also, writing an extreme traumatic backstory for Denji to explain why he's so into being treated like a dog and told what to do!!!  

Exploring the main character's trauma is not really like a main concern of the manga, though, it's just kind of there to explain why he's Like That.   People who see the trauma and want to project onto it... I mean you do you, but it’s like a cartoon version of trauma you know?   It’s not explored with any kind of subtlety and it’s unlikely it ever will be.  This is like my dad made me eat dogfood as a kid and wear a collar kind of stuff, but possibly even more cartoonish than that.   The main concern of the manga is like I said, maximizing the sex appeal and the violence.   

Anyway if this comic didn't run in Shounen Jump and ran in a Seinan magazine instead - where let’s be real it probably belongs - I doubt we'd see much discourse about it at all.   The main character's whole "cool powers but a loser" thing... his whole "cool because he doesn't give a fuck except he does give a fuck but he's just extremely fucked up" thing... isn't even weird for seinan manga, there's lots of seinan comics with main characters like this.

Anyway Chainsaw Man is cool, the pacing is good, the horror is done well, the ‘love triangle’ is interesting because the two ‘love interests’ have completely different and opposite kinds of appeal, the monsters are scary, the worldbuilding is just coherent enough to be interesting without getting in the way of the storytelling, and I really admire the mangaka’s willingness to (spoiler under readmore) ....

...kill off **every** popular character character LOLOL keeps you on your toes!!!

[miekasa]

Mie, I’m begging for some Jean college au bf hcs - im literally so down bad for this man and the way you write men is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

Absolutely, not a problem 😌 I saved this ask as a draft a while ago when you sent it, sorry for just now getting to it. Anyway, I love Jean with my whole heart, best boy, best boyfriend <33

King of forehead kisses, and not even just because of his height in comparison to yours; he just likes it. He likes the feeling of pressing his lips against your skin, and making you feel safe.

Brings you tea or coffee however you like it every day without fail. If he can get it to you in the morning before work/school then he’ll do that, if not he’ll meet you some time in the middle of the day to drop it off. Your own personal courier just for drinks.

He… has a thing for long(er) nails. He loves the feeling of them against his skin, even if you’re not scratching to apply pressure—just you holding his hand them grazing his skin is enough for him.

That being said, he will pay for you to get your nails done. Actually, he’ll pay for… almost anything you want, but the nails benefit him as much as they do you so feel free to ball out.

He never blowdries his hair because he doesn’t... know how to do the back of it. You did it for him once and he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since, but he’s also too embarrassed to ask you to do/style it again.

On the subject of hair, he does do his best to style it and take care of it, but he’s a sucker whenever you play with it. Sometimes he feigns like you’re messing up all his hard work, but he’ll literally crane his head into your touch. He loves it. 

The first time he lays on top of you and you run your hands through his hair... top 10 most euphoric moments of his life. He tries to fight off the sleep threatening to take over him, but it’s futile. Give it 15 minutes at most before he’s knocked out like a baby. 

Dogs love him. Anytime you’re in a park or just taking a walk and there’s a dog around, it’ll come up to him and he looks adorable leaning down to pet it. He loves dogs, too! So he’s always happy to stop and pet them. He’d be a 10/10 dog dad. 

Has your name saved in his phone with two hearts at the end. Do not point it out.

Loves taking pictures together and if you guys are on a date, he’ll ask someone to get a picture for him. He just likes having them to look back on (and to send to his mom, later).

He doesn’t mind painting classes or videos or tutorials, but he hates paint by numbers kits. He claims that they have no sense of color theory and that it takes the originality and fun out of painting. Not to mention the quality of the paints isn’t great to begin with; all of which he takes very seriously.

It’s pretty cute actually, to see him get worked up over the paint kits. He claims that painting and drawing isn’t even something he takes “that seriously,” it’s just a hobby for him (one he’s insanely good at); but in moments like these, you can tell that he’s way more into art and art theory and history than he lets on. 

Huge movie guy, from animated movies to martial arts movies, Jean is usually willingly to give anything a watch at least once. When he’s high, he can go on about his favorite directors and art styles and movie details for hours if you don’t stop him. It’s super cute. Just don’t bring up Moana, because he’ll start crying. 

Arm around the shoulder kind of boyfriend for sure. It’s a casual way of keeping you near him and letting everyone know that you guys are together. Plus it allows for him to easily pull you into him for a quick forehead kiss when needed.

Listen. If you hug his arm, he’s on cloud nine. He tries to be nonchalant about it but he’s about three seconds away from his eyes rolling back in his head it feels that good to him. Bonus if you lean your head on his bicep a little—then he’s a goner.

He takes his bagels very seriously and believes that both you and him deserve nothing but the best quality bagels. He’ll grumble if a bakery gives you guys a less than favorable one and make a note that taking the long route to get to his favorite place is much more worth it.

Always makes you walk on the side furthest from the cars. If he notices you’re not, he’ll just shuffle behind you until he’s shouldering the street and you’re on the inside. 

He grew up on a kind of modern ranch situation; not exactly all the way in the countryside, but not isolate from the city, either. Because of this, he knows how to ride horses, take care of smaller farm animals, tend to plants, and yes he knows how to use a lasso. You wouldn’t know any of that though, because he never ever talks about it. The only way you find out is when he takes you to visit his mom’s house for the first time, and she asks him for a hand around the place. 

(He’s got a cowboy hat, too, but refuses to put it on. He got it when he was, like, nine, okay, leave him alone). 

When he thinks you look tired, he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders to hug you. It’s usually followed up with a kiss to your head, and a promise that you guys will go home soon and get food on the way. 

He’s a really good cook. He just understands and flavors and pairings really well, so he doesn’t need a recipe to make something that tastes good; he just kind of knows what to add to get the balance he’s looking for. 

Naturally, he’ll cook for you. Especially if he finds out that you haven’t eaten all day/in a long time. He doesn’t care if it’s 11pm and it might seem excessive to make steak and potatoes with a side salad at this hour, he’s gonna do it to make sure you eat, and you are going to sit there and watch. 

He also bakes pretty well, though he isn’t as experimental with his baking as he is with his cooking. He usually sticks to what he knows, and it’s not cupcakes and brownies and cakes; he’s better at croissants, and cheesecakes, and canelés. 

Dating Jean means getting along with his friends. If you guys didn’t know each other before you started dating, be prepared to be ambushed by Connie and Sasha (after Jean stops hiding you away and gives them the green light lmfao). Neither of them waste time with the small talk and formalities; straight into mini golfing and beer pong. They make you feel welcome right away.

Sasha always teases that you’re too good for Jean, and that she might just steal you away for herself some day. Sasha is also Jean’s main confidant, so she really knows just how much he loves you, and yeah, she teases him for being lovesick, but really she’s happy for Jean. And proud of him for facing his feelings like this. 

Connie adores you, and you know he trusts you when he starts going to you for advice/help. Could be anything from schoolwork, to what color he should get his new shoes in. He’s also the one who, surprisingly, you have the sentimental talks with about your relationship with Jean. It’s easy to overlook, but Connie loves Jean, and he’s come to love you too; he just wants you both to be happy, so he’s there to listen when you need it. 

Jean waits outside of your classroom after you’ve had a test or presentation, usually with a drink or a snack, or the promise of taking you out as a treat. Always tells you he’s proud of you, and is there to comfort you if you think you didn’t do too well. 

He does not shut up about whatever major you’re in. It could be the same as his; it could be the complete opposite as his. He thinks it’s so sick that you’re doing it, you make it look cooler, you make it look better, and he’s certain you’re the smartest person in your program. 

He’s pretty serious about his studies, too, so he’s always down to study with you in the library whenever you’re both free. More often than not, he shows up after you, usually with food or extra chargers. He greets you with a kiss on the forehead, and asks you how you are while massaging your shoulders gently. If it’s been a while since you took a break, that’s the first item on the list, after that, he gets to work and stays with you until you’re ready to go, even if he doesn’t have as much work to do. 

He always sits across from you. This goes for when you’re in the library, or out to eat at a restaurant; Jean loves sitting across from you. He gets to see your face the best that way, and he adores looking into your eyes when you talk. 

He’s not... not a morning person. He’s not up at 6am ready to grind, but he wakes up before noon; let’s say 10am is his happy medium. That being said, if you wake up before him, regardless of the time, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll lay on your back and tell you to hush so you guys can sleep for 10 more minutes. 

If you’re (close) friends with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, Jean is... happy you’ve got people to rely on, but, “Of all people on the planet, you put your trust in Jaeger?” He acts so bitter (because he is), but deep down inside, he’s glad you have Eren to rely on if you need to. 

(Also, you have to humble him and remind him that he and Eren aren’t all that different. If you like him, why wouldn’t you get along with Eren, bye). 

Turns out though, that it’s not Eren who threatens to beat him up if he breaks your heart. It’s not even Mikasa, although, her threat goes without saying; it’s Armin he’s terrified of.

The last time Armin hated someone, it was this guy in your program, who happened to share a few mutual classes with him, too. Jean never knew the full story, just that he’s pretty sure that kid dropped out the following semester. 

If you have a job on campus, Jean usually doesn’t show up while you’re working (knowing how embarrassed he would be if you did that to him), unless you work the night shift and it’s dead. Connie, however, does show up; usually in some kind of crisis (“Please help me, I don’t know what the fuck APA formatting is and this is due tonight, please, please, please!!”). Your coworkers actually thought Connie was your boyfriend for a minute. That’s when Jean starts showing up more lmfao.

He makes it a point to go on a scheduled, night out, kind of date at least twice a month. He knows life gets busy with school and work and midterms, but he always makes sure you both set side a time to take a well-deserved break and be with each other. 

He’s the romantic type, so these dates are pretty swoon worthy, too. Drive-in movies, nice dinners, classy art exhibits, Jean plans it all. On that note, he really likes planning dates; he just doesn’t like talking about them with his friends beforehand. 

All in all, very romantic, very precious boyfriend. He’s always thinking about you, what you need, and how he can help you out. You’re one of his main priorities, and he just wants to treat you right. 

[correct-vampire-opinions]

You have piqued my interest in VTM. Will you tell me more?

Oh god ok. Okay so this is going to be a long one.

The short answer is that Vampire: The Masquerade is one of three mainline White Wolf games centered around being, if you haven't guessed, a vampire. One of thirteen Bloodlines descended from Cain (yes, that one) who has to grapple with societal bullshit, existential bullshit, and also everyone trying to either take advantage of you or murder you. And also the apocalypse.

This game came out in the 90s, and attracts a certain crowd to it because it pretty unflinchingly grapples with (or. Does its best to grapple with. White Wolf is not good at writing to put it mildly and with many TTRPG settings you have to kind of pick and choose what lore you're keeping) some pretty dark topics and is unafraid of player characters who are at best morally grey and at worst unapologetic baby-eaters and subtextual serial rapists.

Culturally, regardless of the V5 timeline, Vampire and all World of Darkness settings are trapped in the 90s, and specifically trapped in the goth/punk subcultures' ideas of certain things. As written by a bunch of white guys. So this is also important to keep in mind when discussing it. I understand that I am not doing a very good job of explaining why I love VTM, but stick with me on this ok.

The core conceit of Vampire is that the power of an individual Kindred is dependent on how far removed they are from Caine. To be Third Generation--you are the direct childe of one of Caine's childer--makes you an Antedeluvian, the founder of a bloodline and indescribably powerful. The threat of you stirring from torpor could topple societies, and is directly considered to be The Fucking Apocalypse Itself as you drown the world in a tidal wave of blood.

For perspective: the "expected" VTM character tends to hover somewhere around Generation 10-12, though it can go up or down depending on the game and whether people are roleplaying wish fulfillment. A Generation 12 vampire is separated from a Generation 10 vampire by anywhere from several decades to a couple hundred years. A Generation 12 vampire is separated from a Generation 3 vampire by millennia.

This means that you are not shit. You are at the bottom of the food chain, a chihuahua in a dog-eat-dog world where everyone you meet is as desperate to survive as you are and the only difference is how long they've had to scheme and backstab their way into a better position than you. You are separated from human society in a fundamental way that means that even your best efforts at blending in are a tenuous proposition, vampire society is incredibly volatile, and there are so MANY things that would be happy to kill your ass.

In addition, you are no longer the only person living in your head. The transformation into a vampire gives you a Beast, essentially a worse version of yourself that wants to eat as much as it wants and fuck forever. It will be very persuasive. If you listen to it you will become an unthinking monster. Clinging to your humanity is painful, but it is what keeps you yourself.

Ultimately, what compels me about the game are the huge variety in character builds (wanna be the archetypical Dracula? A Count Orlock? Lestat? Fuck it, Blade?) you can do, and some honestly really interesting lore to play with provided you go into it with a hazmat suit. I think that a system that plays so deeply with layered allegories for abuse and alienation, as well as a potentially really interesting exploration of what humanity looks like and the paradigm shift you can experience when you no longer necessarily WANT to be a good person, in a world determined to break you, make for really engaging character studies.

Vampire The Masquerade: Bloodlines is, if you're willing to tolerate 2003 RPG-tier jank, perhaps the best game that explores this setting if you're interested, but it very much wears its cringe on its sleeve. There's also the books of course! With similar caveats!

God, I'm bad at this.