#better described as Neutral Evil

[mad-hunts]

details about ocs! // 🤍 WHITE HEART — what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits? (and/or) 🍝 SPAGHETTI — what is/are your oc's favourite food(s)?

ASK MEME - details about oc's!

hello, hello, @oculusxcaro! i really appreciate you sending me this meme through my inbox — allow me to first address three of barton's more neutral / questionable traits. so, this may not be a surprise, but barton is definitely a bit... eccentric. i mean, especially to outsiders who do not know the true inner workings of his 'family business,' as he does actually make normal dolls as well. and so he does live up to his moniker ( the dollmaker ) in more ways than one. as to why barton makes actual dolls as well as his more twisted creations, part of it is because the cloth dolls seem to serve a role in his grotesque dollmaking: he came up with the idea to insert hidden messages in these dolls with information about the main victim that the prospective cloth doll is 'modeling,' so to speak ( so they'd essentially be a carbon copy of the doll he made using a real person, except while they were alive ) because some of his clients started to express a desire to feel more connected with the 'doll.' and he thought this would be a good way to keep their business. though, now he does it for everyone who purchases a ' doll. ' which is absolutely horrifying to think about, of course, but barton has also taken to creating cloth and / or different kinds of dolls as a hobby since winslow ( his surrogate father ) was a toymaker and it reminds him of the man.

plus, winslow was the person to teach him everything he knows regarding how to make the dolls in the first place, so he feels somewhat guilty for just using them for his own... less than savory purposes. but yeah, that is one way that barton is eccentic, and another would be that he can be surprisingly playful sometimes. however, if you are a stranger or if he doesn't know you very well in general, you aren't very likely to see this side of him. his playful / teasing side is mostly reserved for his closer friends, his family members and his romantic partner. like, just imagine the kind of playfulness that comes with completely catching someone off guard by suddenly saying ' trust fall ' out of absolute NOWHERE and letting yourself fall backwards, which leads the other person into a state of panic but then barton catching himself at the last moment. and him being like, ' ahhh, you really thought i was gonna fall back in hopes you would catch me only so i can crack my head open, didn't you? i wouldn't do that. i mean, look at those stick arms. we're gonna have to start calling you skelly if you don't get any meat on those. ' ( lol... )

so, there's no malice behind it, he really just jokes around with the people in his more tight-knit circle sometimes. as for what i'd say a second neutral trait of his is, is that he's a very ambitious person. barton strived for nothing less than A's and maybe the occasional one or two B's whenever it came to high school because he wanted to get into the best medical school that he could in the future — and this carried on into his premed years, though he might've suffered from an extreme case of burnout because of this during his junior year. this was also around the time that his past girlfriend, auriel, disappeared however. so that kind of added onto the situation and made it worse. anyhow, barton has always tried to strive to be the best at his job, despite it being completely wrong morally and has grown somewhat of a reputation with gotham's underground for being one of the best people to go to if you can't go to the hospital ( either because you have committed a crime or a myriad of other reasons ) , but you still want top-quality medical care.

thirdly, and last but certainly not least, is the fact that barton is bold. he is the kind of person in which, if someone tells him not to do something in a bad situation because it's too dangerous or what have you, that he will do it anyway. and despite him generally not being a good father as a rule, he has demonstrated a desire to protect his children over all else in a few situations. which is a rather fearless thing to do when you're being held at gunpoint or outnumbered. his former boss, in particular, had wanted to kill one of his children as punishment for trying to leave him but barton said ' nope, that's not happening, ' and hopped right in front of them. needless to say, they both ended up getting out of that situation alive, but yeah.

another way in which barton is bold is he will stand up to people if they try to hurt his friends and although his definition of friends is... a bit different than normal, to say the least. and this is because barton can very well feel cognitive empathy towards them even if he has difficulty with empathizing with them on an emotional level. once again, it just kind of depends on how close you are to him, but barton has this funny way of appearing as if he doesn't care about someone at all but will turn around and scare off any people who attempt to torment certain people in his life. but anyhow... i'm getting a bit off-track here. i hope this was very informative as to what some of barton's neutral traits are!

[ckret2]

At long last, we get to see: this moment.

Chapter 11 of Human Bill Being The Mystery Shack's Hella Depressed Prisoner, featuring: Mabel giving Bill a ✨beautiful makeover✨—and Stan and Ford almost dying from laughter. And thus begins Bill & Mabel's inevitable befriending. Previous chapters here!

####

Every time Mabel had to use the stairs, she paused to look at Bill sitting in his window.

He never seemed to move.

A few days ago, it was creepy. Now, it was just kind of sad.

Last year, after Mabel and Dipper's parents had heard the whole story about their summer, they'd immediately packed the twins off to therapy—which Mabel didn't think was necessary, but whatever, if it made their parents feel better. (It had taken them some time to find a therapist who would engage with their barely-averted-apocalypse story at face value rather than search for the root of these "delusions.") At their current therapist's office, before each appointment, Dipper and Mabel had to fill out checklists that they gathered were to measure whether they'd come down with a case of depression—Please read the following statements and circle the word that shows how often they happen to you. Never, sometimes, often, always.

She'd filled out these things so many times that she could practically recite the list of statements by memory. Nothing feels very fun anymore. I have problems with my appetite. I have trouble sleeping. I have no energy for things. I feel like I don't want to move. Far be it from her to try to diagnose an evil demon monster space triangle who'd tried to murder everybody she knew, but. Well. You know. Sitting curled up in a window seat, day after night after day, barely moving, barely talking, barely eating... Yikes. She could only guess how he'd answer statements like I feel empty and sad or I feel worthless.

In Mabel's mind, there was a piece of paper. On that piece of paper were the faces of everyone currently living in the shack. Herself, Dipper, Waddles, Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford, Soos, Abuelita, and Melody as an honorary part-time resident. Next to each of their faces, there was a sticker, reflecting their current overall mood. Right now, everyone had either a happy face or a flat-mouthed neutral face—not bad, but could be better.

As she looked at Bill, she mentally promoted him at last from "entity haunting the attic" to "temporary resident." She added his face to her imaginary paper. And she slapped a big blue crying sticker next to it.

She wouldn't stand for that. Not even from him. Not under her roof.

####

Today, Bill wasn't even in the window. He'd elected to curl up in a corner of the attic, hiding in the shadows with his stolen blanket. The window was probably too hot. Mabel typically used acrylic yarn, and she knew from experience how quickly Sweater Town could turn into Sweaty Town.

For the first time, Mabel sauntered, quite casually, across the invisible barrier separating the rest of the attic from Bill's nest. She offered her winningest smile and her cheerfullest, "Hey, Bill!"

The Thing Beneath The Blanket gave her a look that, she suspected, could probably be described as deeply suspicious. "Shooting Star."

"Yup! Haha! That's—that's me all right! You got me." Mabel laughed. (This was going great so far. This was very natural.) "So, anyway!" She grabbed one of the couch cushions Bill had been using as a bed, dragged it a little closer to the corner, and plopped down. "This is such a weird coincidence, but one time, I got gum stuck in my hair and had to shave it off! I mean, crazy, right?"

"Uh huh." Bill didn't sound impressed. "Second grade." (And Mabel was uncomfortably reminded of the first time she'd ever seen Bill. I know lots of things.) "Hey, since you brought it up, can I ask you something about that little incident?"

"Uh..." This was what you signed up for, Mabel. You volunteered for a conversation with Bill. You've gotta converse. "Sure, I guess."

He leaned forward, triangle face looming above her. "Did getting gum in your hair change your species? Did you still look like yourself when you shaved it off?" The face bobbed as he pantomiming looking her up and down. "You still look human to me! So what's your point."

Okay, so he'd immediately recognized she was trying to establish common ground, aaand he was throwing it in her face. Great start. "Jeez, don't be so mean! I'm trying to tell you I get it. Not... the species part, but the other part. I wanna help!"

Bill scoffed. "Sure you do."

"Really!"

"Why?"

"Because you're all sad and it's making me sad."

Bill, o wise and ancient being that he was, had heard of "empathy" in a conceptual sense. He was aware that it was a thing that happened to some people. He even knew that it was common among humans. But on some level he kinda sorta felt like it only really happened to mindreaders that didn't know how to establish proper psychic boundaries. He laughed in Mabel's face. "No, seriously! What are you getting out of this."

Mabel decided she had no interest in explaining compassion to an alien mass murderer. "Okay, I want Soos's blanket back. I gave it to him, not you."

"Fine. If you want his blanket back, make me one."

"What? No! Those are our Team Zodiac-That-Defeated-You blankets, you don't get one."

"Didn't you make one for everybody else on the wheel? I'm on the wheel, aren't I?" He pointed at his face. "Bam! There I am, right in the middle! Star of the show! If everyone else deserves a blanket, so do I."

"Why do you even want one? It's a symbol to kill you."

"It's got my face on it! It's not that deep." He crossed his legs and propped his chin in his hand, getting more comfortable. "So do I get to pick the colors? I'll take yellow if that's all you got, but if you get me metallic gold I think I can swing you a favor."

"I'm not making you a blanket," Mable said. "I was thinking maybe a wig?"

Bill shuddered. "Pass."

"Aw, come on! I bet I could find you a really cute wig. Summerween's coming up, I could go to the costume store—"

"Don't even think about it." Bill leaned away from Mabel, back into his corner. She was losing him. "Listen. Kid. Do you think I did this by accident?" He pointed vaguely toward his scalp. "Being stuck in a human body? Disgusting. Being a human and secreting fifteen miles of hair out of a hundred thousand of pores? Infinitely worse."

"Wait, wait, fifteen miles?" Mabel had never considered how long a full head of hair laid out end-to-end would be. "How much hair do I have?"

"Huh." Bill tilted his head consideringly. "How dense is your hair?"

"Super dense. I've broken multiple brushes."

"Could be up to fifty miles."

Mabel's eyes widened. "Whoa."

"And you've got fifty thousand miles of blood vessels," Bill added cheerfully. "Anyway, if you want this blanket back? You won't get it with a wig. All I want is to look..." he formed his fingers into a triangle, thumb to thumb and forefinger to forefinger, and held it over the face on the blanket, "... like this. Now, if you're offering to help me get my real body back—"

"Never in a million years."

"Didn't think so!" Bill retreated fully into his corner again, knees pulled back up under the blanket, like an eel hiding in a hole to await its next prey. "But hey, if you've got an offer that's a step up from the blanket, I'm willing to negotiate."

"Huh." Mabel frowned thoughtfully. Something triangly. Something triangly that was better than a blanket, without helping Bill return to full power.

She got to her feet. "Let's put a pin in this conversation and circle back to it later. I'll come back with some proposals for you to review."

Bill laughed. "Okay, business girl! Have your people call my people. You know where to find me."

Mabel leaped down the stairs three at a time, ideas already forming in her head.

####

"Hey, Grunkle Ford!"

Ford was sitting at the former controls of the interdimensional portal, studying some radar readings; but he glanced up with a smile when Mabel ran out of the elevator. "Mabel. What brings you down here?"

She dragged an office chair up beside Ford, plopped down in it, and spun a couple of times. "I need to ask some questions about Bill!"

Ford's smile faltered. "Ah."

"Last summer, when we were burning all your art of him—"

(Ford winced in embarrassment.)

"—you said he could do some kind of magic with pictures of his face? What's all that about?" She stopped spinning. "Do they give him more power? Can he fire lasers out of them, or...?"

"No, nothing like that, thank goodness. Depictions of his face granted him a different kind of power: the power of knowledge. When he was trapped in the Nightmare Realm, he could tap into our world's collective mindscape and see through drawings of himself as if they were cameras. Ironically, plastering images of his face everywhere to symbolically represent an 'all-seeing eye' is what made him so all-seeing in the first place."

Mabel nodded thoughtfully. "Did you know you talk like one of those experts they hire to explain things in history documentaries?" she asked. "You should be on TV. You'd be good at it."

Ford gave her a confused smile. "Er—thank you."

"So, if Bill's already here, making new pictures of his face doesn't do anything?"

He supposed she was wondering about the zodiac blankets she'd spread around town. "Probably not. At a minimum, he'd have to be in the mindscape to be at the right 'angle' to see through the eyes. As he is now, trapped in a human form?" Ford let out a slow, thoughtful sigh. "It's hard to say for sure, without knowing how he got to be this way or what kinds of powers he's still hiding... but based on everything I've seen so far, I doubt they do anything for him."

"And if somebody put a picture of him on his face, it wouldn't do anything at all! Because that's like, his face. He already has eyes there."

Ford chuckled. "I suppose that's true. It would be like he'd grown a third eyeball, that's all." He paused. Put a picture of him on his face? "Why do you ask?"

Too late; she was halfway to the elevator. "Thanks, Grunkle Ford! I'll see you at dinner!" And she was gone.

####

"What's all this?" Bartholomew asked.

Mabel was dumping a bag of costume makeup and cheap convenience store makeup palettes onto her bed. They sparkled in varying hues of tacky gold glitter. "Art project!" She scooped Bartholomew out of his cradle by Dipper's bed, climbed the rickety ladder to the storage loft over their bedroom, and set him down leaning against a box. "You're on guard duty. Stay quiet and if anything goes wrong, get Dipper."

"How do you expect me to get Dipper? I'm a doll. I can't move."

"Come on, Mew-Mew. You think we haven't noticed that you teleport when nobody's looking?"

Bartholomew paused. "Touché."

Mabel rummaged through her art supplies; put tape, glue, and a couple of flattened cardboard boxes on the bed; added all the yellow crayons, markers, and paints she could find; and finally, satisfied, she ran out of the room. "Bill!"

"Still here."

"I've got the perfect solution. I'm giving you..." Mabel posed, hands on her hips. "A makeover!"

Bill waited for the follow up. There was no follow up. "Heh."

"Laugh now, but before I'm finished, I'm gonna make you more beautiful than your wildest dreams!"

"Kid, with all due respect, your idea of 'wild' taps out where my dreams are just getting started."

"Then I'll just have to up my game, won't I?" Mabel held out her hand. "Just give me that blanket, show me that weird bald head of yours, and let me make it into a canvas for high art! Trust me!"

Bill contemplated her extended hand. Did he trust her? In most situations, he considered trust irrelevant. He expected most people to do whatever they thought would benefit themselves the most; sometimes that meant keeping their word, and sometimes it didn't.

On the other hand. Was he really curious to find out where she was going with this? Yes. And the worst thing she could possibly do to him was make him very slightly more ugly than he already was. And playing along would fill his empty afternoon.

"Okay, kid." He reluctantly handed the blanket over. "You haven't given me a bad makeover so far." (He hadn't actually seen her marker mask, but it never hurt to flatter the person about to paint all over you.) He stood and stretched. "Show me what you've got. But if I don't like it, you owe me a blanket."

"Yes!" She grabbed his hand—his whole arm immediately went stiff—and dragged him toward the bedroom. "Welcome to my salon!"

####

Sure enough, just like Ford had said—when Stan checked Bill's attic nest, there was no sign of him.

Stan didn't like that one bit. Where the hell had their prisoner gotten off to?

As Stan approached the attic bedroom, he could hear Mabel talking: "More glitter?! That's crazay! Okay, here goes! I bet you could pull off such a glam rock look." (That explained where the kids were. He'd been starting to wonder.) "Hold still, I'm gonna try something I saw on a Russian supermodel—"

"Kids," Stan called, "do you know where the demon went?" He opened the door. "Poindexter says he can't find him anywhere, and—"

Mabel was kneeling on the floor, surrounded by the widest variety of makeup brushes and palettes Stan had ever seen. Her fingers and sleeve cuffs were coated in gold glitter and paint.

Kneeling in front of her, with his legs splayed awkwardly and his hands on the floor like he wasn't sure how to lower this body down to Mabel's height, was Bill. His face was liberally coated in acrylic gold paint and amateurishly contoured with a mix of craft glitter and golden eyeshadow. One eye was shut—the eyelashes delicately dusted with more gold eyeshadow to help it blend in—while the other was coated in a layer of mascara so thick it was a miracle his lashes didn't glue shut when he blinked.

And to cap off the gilded absurdity, his face was sticking through a hole in the middle of a cardboard triangle helmet, painted sunflower yellow with bricks shakily traced on in marker. Bill looked like the poor kid assigned the part of "the pyramid" in a fourth grade class play about ancient Egypt.

Mabel and Bill stared at Stan.

Stan stared back.

He covered a snort with a cough. "I'll—I'll tell Ford you've got it handled." He slammed the door.

He let out a bellow of laughter.

Mabel put a hand on Bill's shoulder. "He doesn't understand avant-garde fashion. You look like a million dollars."

"I know," Bill said. "All the same—maybe a hat would class things up a little?"

Mabel reached for a sheet of black construction paper. "You're so right."

####

"Well?" Mabel leaned around Bill, trying to see what he looked like in the full-length mirror. "What do you think?"

Bill stared in the mirror. A horrific abomination of flaking paint, cakey makeup, and taped-up cardboard stared back.

He grinned so wide it cracked his face paint. "I think that's the hottest human being in history."

"Yes!" Mabel pumped a fist into the air.

####

Ford said, "Stanley, what is it?"

Stan wheezed until his lungs ran out of air.

Concerned, Ford leaned across the kitchen table, lacing his hands together. "Did you find Bill?"

"M—Mhmm."

"He hasn't hurt Mabel, has he?" Ford asked, flashing back to their conversation earlier. "Or—or Dipper? Anyone?"

Stan bit his lip and shook his head. Tears of laughter pricked the corners of his eyes.

"Did he... put some kind of laughing curse on you?"

Stan shook his head more emphatically. "H—" He couldn't get one syllable out before he had to choke back his laughter again. He pounded on the table.

Grasping at straws and defaulting to the first worst case scenario he could think of, Ford said, "He hasn't found a way back to his true form, has he?"

Stan let out a noise like a balloon that had been untied and unleashed to fly around the room. "I MEAN—"

"Gooood afternoon, gentlemen!" Beaming brightly enough to rival the sun, twirling an umbrella like a cane, Bill strutted in.

Ford clapped one hand on Stan's shoulder, clapped the other over his mouth, and turned away, shoulders shaking. Stan smacked Ford's arm in sympathetic hysteria.

"I see we're all in high spirits today!" With the brazen confidence of an illegitimate prince marching into a throne room to demand his crown, Bill strolled through the kitchen, barely sparing the Stan twins a glance. Mabel followed behind him, grinning from ear to ear. "I wouldn't mind some spirits, myself." He paused in front of the fridge. "Could someone—?"

As the closest person to the fridge, Ford pulled it open, then turned to watch so he could make sure Bill didn't do anything he shouldn't with the food. This required him to look in Bill's direction. He curled his lips into his mouth and bit down. His eyes watered.

"Finally." Bill hungrily surveyed the inner contents of the fridge, grabbed an armload of condiments, a jar of pickles, and a tub of leftover chicken nuggets, and dumped them on the nearest counter. He tried to reach for a bottle of spoiled corn syrup toward the back of the fridge, banged the sides of his cardboard helmet on the fridge's doorframe, and quickly backed off and felt the corners to make sure they weren't too damaged. He had to turn sideways to reach the bottle without hitting the edges of the fridge. One corner of his mask tipped over a bottle of apple juice. Watching this performance very nearly killed the Stans.

"There." Bill triumphantly set the bottle on the counter, grabbed a can of alphabet spaghetti off an open shelf, and asked, "Where do you have the bowls hidden?" He rapped on one of the cabinet doors with his umbrella.

The sight of the umbrella knocked Ford out of some of his hysteria. "Where did you—?" He snatched the umbrella out of Bill's hands. "No weapons."

Bill gave Ford a withering one-eyed look (Ford suspected his other eye was glued shut with paint), then elected to ignore him. "Shooting Star?"

"They're down here!" Mabel opened one of the base cabinets. Bill retrieved a bowl and started filled it with his condiment haul.

"Okay," Stan said, voice strained with suppressed laughter. "Okay, what—what are we looking at?"

"A masterpiece of cosmetic art," Bill said. Mabel's grin widened.

Ford elbowed Stan across the table. "Do you remember the 'living statue' performers on the Glass Shard Beach boardwalk?" he asked. "The ones who'd paint all their skin and clothes gold—?"

"Oh yeah!" Stan let out a bark of laughter. "That's exactly what he looks like!"

In his bowl, Bill had layered mayonnaise, Tabasco sauce, mustard, sour cream, and maple syrup, and carefully stuck in as many chicken nuggets as he could without the mix slopping over the edges. He got Mabel's help to stick it in the microwave, then turned toward the Stans with a smug grin. "So you agree that I look like a work of art."

"No," Stan said, "they looked like idiots, and so do you."

Bill scoffed. "You don't know anything! You look at a human body, and all you see is a human with things stuck on it. I can look at a human body and see a canvas. I've stripped this vessel of its association with humanity and transformed it into an idol of myself."

Mabel loudly cleared her throat.

"Okay, she did most of the work."

Ford seriously considered the artistic merit of Bill's proposed "human body sans humanity as art material" paradigm. After a moment of deliberation, he said, "You have cardboard taped to your face."

Stan slapped the table. "HA!"

Bill opened a can of alphabet spaghetti, slopped half into a glass, filled the rest with incredibly spoiled corn syrup, and then filled the can with corn syrup as well. The mixes bubbled threateningly. The absolute picture of good cheer, Bill announced, "I'm the most beautiful thing any of you have ever seen. It's just too bad your closed little minds can't enjoy the marvel in front of you." He stirred his toxic alphabet spaghetti concoction with a pickle spear.

Stan watched Bill mix his drink in mild alarm. "What in the world are you making?"

Bill held his wrist over the glass and a knife to his wrist. "A Bloody Mary."

Stan's alarm increased. "No you aren't."

"That's your opinion." 

"Where did you get—!" Ford leaned over to snatch the knife out of Bill's hand.

"It was in the fridge, it was sticking out of the leftover casserole!" Bill rolled his eye. "Re-lax! I wasn't pointing it at you." He lifted his drink, nearly poured it into his eye, caught himself at Mabel's shout of alarm, took a sip through the correct hole, then inspected the thick gold lip stain left on the rim. "Huh." He looked at Mabel.

She shrugged. "I could have set the makeup with baby powder, but I thought it might dim some of the sparkle."

"You chose form over function. I respect that." He sipped his drink more carefully.

The microwave went off, Mabel opened the door, and Bill scooped up his condiment-and-nugget stew and both alleged Bloody Marys. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go be handsome somewhere else—"

The corner of his cardboard helmet banged into the kitchen doorway. He dropped one of his drinks, stumbled against the wall, and looked in dismay at his syrup-and-spaghetti-sauce-soaked skirt. He turned to Mabel. "How's my head?"

She grimaced. "We... can fix that with tape."

Bill sighed. "Come on, let's do it before my nuggets get cold."

"Now hold on!" Ford stood up. "Are you going to clean this mess up?"

"No!" Bill was out of the room. Ford could already hear him tripping on the stairs. "You don't trust me with a mop!"

Well. It was true, they didn't trust him with a mop. Sighing, Ford trudged across the room. "I'll get it."

Stan said, "You know, I think I'm glad he looks like an idiot. He's been so mopey the last couple of days, I was almost starting to feel bad for him."

"Thank goodness, you too," Ford muttered. "I was afraid I was going soft."

"Nah, he really was that pathetic," Stan said. "Like a sad show poodle that doesn't understand why it's been shaved in weird shapes."

Ford barked a laugh.

Once the floor was clean, Ford confessed, "I've—actually really worried about that. Going soft, I mean. I'm... afraid that Bill could find a way back into my head."

"Literally or emotionally?"

"Emotionally." Ford paused. "Both, actually—but this time I mean emotionally. The night he burned his hair off, I..." He winced at himself; but he needed to tell Stan. There was no one else he trusted to give him a reality check. Maybe Fiddleford, but... Ford hadn't figured out how to approach him about all this yet.

He put back the mop, to have an excuse to pause and gather his words. "I... brought him something to eat," Ford mumbled. "And, told him I knew what it was like to be trapped in an alien universe, and—that he should take better care of himself, for his own sake—and I don't know why I said that, anything good he does for himself just makes things harder for us, it's not as though I forgot that, but—What? Stanley, why is this funny."

Stan had started laughing; but he cut it off a cough. "Sorry. It's just—do you remember how Mom would go 'Well, I can tell you two are related' any time we did something particularly—you know—twinnish?"

"Don't tell me you've been making sandwiches for Bill."

"Ha! No, but I've given my arch nemesis a pep talk when he was having a mental breakdown. I felt bad for him!"

Ford chuckled. "Really?" He dropped back into his seat. "I didn't know you have an arch nemesis, who's that?"

Stan considered Ford's reaction if he admitted that his nemesis was that ten-year-old with a crush on Mabel, and said, "Ah, he's been out of my hair for ages. So what, is that all you talked about?"

"Somehow it turned into him trying to convince me he'd been planning a welcome party when I fell through the portal."

"Ha! And did you believe him?"

"Absolutely not." Ford paused thoughtfully. "But—part of me wonders whether he believes it himself."

"He seems like the kind of guy to buy his own bull." Stan shrugged. "I don't think you have to worry about him getting in your head. Just don't let him fast-talk you into any decisions and don't buy anything he's selling without telling him you'll think it over for twenty-four hours. And the more he says decide now, the harder you say no. That's how the pros get you, they don't give you room to breathe, let alone think."

Ford was pretty sure Stan was just describing the Mystery Shack's souvenir sales strategy; but he nodded slowly. "I know exactly what you're talking about. When I gave him permission to pilot my body, between the first time he mentioned it was an option and the moment I agreed to it... well, I was asleep at the time, so I can't be sure how long it took—but I'd guess it was less than fifteen minutes. In retrospect, I couldn't believe that I'd agreed so thoughtlessly. But I suppose that's exactly what he wanted." No room to breathe was a good way to describe it. Never mind being nose-to-nose with somebody trying to pressure you into a sale—how do you take a step back to get a little space from somebody who's already inside your head?

"Did he make it sound like a limited-time-only deal? You know—'buy now while the price is low, you'll regret missing this offer'? But with more mystical woo-woo phrasing, I mean."

"Not exactly, but..." Ford tried to remember back that far, grasping for the details of the conversation—the real conversation, not the heady, excited version he'd summarized in his journal. "At the time, I'd been worried about falling behind schedule on the portal's construction. He wouldn't have had to introduce an element of tension—it was already there. All he had to do was exploit it." He shook his head. Falling behind schedule. What schedule—the one he, himself had made? He was sure Bill had encouraged him to finish as fast as possible, too.

"There, you see? You got swindled by a professional swindler," Stan said. "What's important is that you know what he is now, and you know his tricks. He won't get you the same way twice. I'm not worried about you."

There were a couple of odd thuds from upstairs, accompanied by a yelp from Bill. That wasn't odd; he'd proven to be remarkably clumsy in a human body. At any given time it was possible to tell where he was by the random bangs, and if he hadn't made a noise in the last five minutes it meant he was curled up safely in his window seat.

What was odd was hearing Mabel's voice: "Careful, careful—! Augh. ... I'll get another sheet of cardboard, we'll replace that!"

Stan and Ford looked warily toward the stairs. Stan muttered, "Mabel, on the other hand..."

Ford nodded. "I'll keep an eye on her."

####

(If you've read this far, I'd really appreciate hearing from you! Things you liked, things you're looking forward to, jokes, thoughts, even typo corrections. Thanks!)

[prettyboykatsuki]

take it from me | barou shouei ft. isagi yoichi

✮ tags ; gender neutral / fem!reader + afab!reader (reader is referred to as girlfriend but uses they/them pronouns), cucking, petnames (baby, beautiful), fingering, dry-humping, breeding (mentions of getting someone pregnant and kids etc.), 18+ 

✮ wc ; 2.7k 

✮ synopsis ; barou doesn’t like anything isagi has planned for him, but he never backs down from a fight either. 

✮ a/n ; a fic a beloved anon commissioner has allowed me to post! also... if i had a nickel for every time i wrote a fic with isagi cucking someone... i'd have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice right

It’s easy to get on Barou’s nerves. 

But it’s hard to get under his skin. 

Very hard. Harder than most people actually understand, because people get a kick out of riling him up. They often get upset when he realizes and stops being mad at all. Surface level frustration is commonplace for Barou, but that skin deep stuff is hard to come by.  And whatever does get him truly angry is usually justifiable, understandable. Strangers don’t make this distinction about him but he knows it to be true. 

It’s rare, unusual - to get under his skin so fucking consistently. 

But Isagi always does. 

That shitty little egoist has a talent for bothering him with his antics. Every person who’s ever told Barou off for being egotistical doesn’t know shit about shit. They don’t know the kind of egoism Isagi bears, the kind that’s subtle until it isn’t. Until it’s in your face at your lowest, opportunistic and evil. 

He’s fine off the field. Almost innocent when they sit around together for a drink. Off the field, he blushes when he gets any advances and doesn’t carry that same energy. But Barou knows better, can’t let his guard down because when everyone is distracted it slips. Barou sees the way Isagi looks. Plans. Manipulates for what he wants. He should’ve been able to guess that Isagi’s bet on their last match was a ploy to get something he wanted. 

But Isagi knows in what way he can push Barou’s buttons. So after carefully placed insults and pushes, a bet was made. 

If Isagi’s team won their next match, he got to fuck Barou’s girlfriend. In front of him. 

Of course his first answer was fuck no. Barou’s not stupid, wasn’t planning on giving that shitty little brat an inch because Barou knew he’d take a mile. Isagi, though, got under his skin. Pushed and pushed, making digs about Barou being worried about you. Isagi knows that Barou is confident in his soccer, as much as he is in his feelings - but Barou can’t let up to that kind of push. Can’t allow Isagi to think for even a minute he can’t satisfy you. In a fit of anger, Barou says he’ll agree if you do. 

And to his surprise, you do - but you’re demure about it. Not that you need anyone but Barou, you assure, but you do want to support his confidence in himself. Sweet thing like you always are, gentle with batted lashes and a hand on his chest. 

Barou loves you, would’ve said fuck no again if you showed even the slightest bit of hesitation. Instead, you looked up at him with clear eyes and a gentle smile. 

Fine. Barou agrees to play Isagi’s shitty game. He’ll win the next match and it’ll be over.

Except, he doesn’t win.

It’s a close match, but Isagi’s team manages to get one goal in - Isagi himself striking it into the net. As soon as it’s called, only seconds before the last buzzer goes off, Isagi looks at Barou directly. Grins as he scores, smiles like Japan’s sweetheart when everything is over. 

Barou wouldn’t go as far as describing his feelings as dread. Dread implies that he’s lacking confidence. It’s more like he was pissed. Pissed that Isagi got his way, pissed that the match was so fucking close, pissed as he was relaying the news to you on the way home. A nightmare of a situation - ultimately. 

But Barou is a man of his word. 

And as man of his word, Barou puts you three in a groupchat with Isagi. There’s some hoopla about getting to know each other. Barou can appreciate Isagi’s efforts to make you comfortable, despite knowing it’s bare minimum. There’s something real about his approach, his desire. Isagi wants to fuck you as you, as much as he does because you’re Barou’s girlfriend. He just wants you, and Barou isn’t entirely sure what to make of that. 

He isn’t sure if that makes his fuck-up worse or better. But he’s here now, and there’s nothing he can do. 

He doesn’t really know what to do with his hands. He’s supposed to just watch, and he has some qualms about jacking off while you’re being fucked by someone else. It’s weirder to be in his position though, to just sit and look on as Isagi lays hands on you. 

Barou loathes knowing Isagi’s preferences, loathes even more that they have similar tastes. You’re wearing white lace and thin straps and mascara that isn’t waterproof per request. You're beautiful in a way that Barou knows to be normal for you, but still feels impressed by. 

And Isagi is there. 

While Barou is looking at you, eyes fixated on your silhouette - your expression is turned to Isagi. Bright eyes, fluttery lashes, lips that are parted and pouty. Your hands are clamped up at your sides, thighs trembling. You’re nervous, it’s written all over your face. Isagi is hovering over you - speaking in quiet whispers until you smile or laugh. He gets you comfortable with the way he talks, much faster than Barou could’ve in a situation like this. He’s a people person, notably. Barou can’t hear what Isagi is telling you so secretively. 

But it must have something to do with him, given the way you glance over at him and Isagi turns your face gently back his way. He’s not a participant here, not playing on the field. He’s a fly on the wall, a watcher - a passive one, and he isn’t sure if it’s too early or not to be pissed. 

“Shouei,” You whisper despite Isagi’s efforts to make you forget him. Barou stills “It'll be okay.” 

Barou breathes out at you, softening his features. Isagi’s touch on your body doesn’t make him lunge out of his seat this time. 

Isagi kisses you when Barou is looking. From where he’s sitting, he can see it clearly. You crane your neck up like you usually do when you kiss, and Isagi has a hand around the side of your face. He doesn’t know what to think, what to feel - so he focuses on you. 

Your lips part, and Isagi puts his tongue in your mouth. Puts his tongue in and nips, laps at the gloss of your mouth until you give in. Your hands clasp around the end of Isagi’s shirt, a flash of innocence. 

It’s an explicit way to kiss, lewd. Suggestive. Barou thinks this is intentional. He can’t wrap his head around why Isagi would want to fuck you dirty other than his own preferences. But there’s more to it. So much more underneath the surface of his desire that makes Barou want to get up and punch his lights out. 

But he doesn’t. He keeps his hands tucked at his side, and watches as you squirm. There’s something dirty about the desperation in your every gesture. Isagi keeps kissing you as he slowly undoes you. 

He starts with kissing your jaw after thoroughly making your head blank. Isagi lets his lips trail over the corner of your mouth, the angle of your jaw, the space where your shoulder meets your neck. There’s no romance laced in it, only lust. Your face twists with each bite and his hands make quick work out of touching you in every place other than where you need. He breaks you apart in careful, calculated moves. Exploits all your sensitivities. His hands squeeze the softness of your chest, groaning at the way it feels in between his fingers. 

He teases your nipples, flicking and rubbing them until you’re wiggling away from the feeling. He licks and bites at the tender flesh, sucking harsh enough to make a wet sound. 

Barou busies himself with counting all the differences, and measures his own touch up to it. How different it is. The way Isagi is touching you lacks delicacy, finesse. 

There are a few moments where you pause, glancing at him to say something. But when Isagi touches you, you can’t get the words out. His groping isn’t very romantic. 

But you like it, don’t you? You do.  It’s in your face. In your blissed out eyes, and the subtle flutters of your tummy and the legs wrapped around Isagi’s waist when he humps you. Ruts the hard shape of his cock against your clothed, wet cunt and makes you whimper like you’ve been hit. He’s groping you like he’s only known sex from dirty magazines or porn on DVD, but you like it. You’re so engrossed in the feeling that every word you have for him dies in your mouth, gets washed away by your desire. 

Isagi makes a show out of humping you, once you both get into it. The two of you break apart only briefly. He peels his shirt back as he sits up on his knees, pulls his pants down enough to just be in his boxers. He lets his hard cock rest against your pussy, still in his boxers. Gripping your thighs, he thrusts - slow and deliberate until the tip pushes into your swollen clit. You cry out, your hands still fisted and trembling around your size. Isagi narrates this time, loud enough for Barou to hear. The sound of his voice grates on Barou’s nerves. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” He punctuates, laughing - harshly at that “Do you like when I’m a little mean?” 

Your hands curl, and you clam up - but Isagi doesn’t let you shy away. Instead he keeps thrusting his hips over and over, gripping your jaw to make you look up at him. Your eyes are blown so wide, wetness pooling at your lashes as the sensation drives you over. Barou would’ve touched you by now, but Isagi does not. 

“That brute is a gentleman to you, huh. I’m a little surprised.”  Isagi says conversationally, making Barou’s whole body tense. “But you look like you need to be fucked a little mean. I almost want to make you cry.” 

Barou goes to interject, he wants too - but you moan. And Isagi laughs at you again. 

“Is that what you want? Hm? Want me to fuck you?” 

“Hngh, please.” Your voice nearly breaks as you whimper “Wan’ you to fuck me.” 

Shit. Barou is hard. 

Isagi grins “That’s what I like to hear,” 

Isagi moves, pulling himself away from you. He lifts your legs to take your panties off, and tosses them somewhere carelessly before sitting back. He spreads your legs, coating his middle fingers with saliva before positioning himself. 

He hovers over as he lets his fingers dip down to your cunt, brushing over your swollen clit. He ignores your cry out from neglect. You wrap your arms around his neck as he keeps himself upright with free hand, kissing you softly as he starts to finger you. He doesn’t give you room to breathe, doesn’t let you pull away as his fingers start to stretch you open. You mewl at his ministrations, paw at him and kiss him desperately. There’s such a whiny quality to your moaning, one that Barou has only ever heard in bits and pieces before this.  

He watches as one finger scissors you open then another. You take it well, don’t complain even Isagi takes his sweet time pressing up against your soft spot. Once you’re all stretched and light headed, he kisses the corner of your mouth. 

“Now you’re ready for me,” Isagi mumbles, looking you over “Gonna fuck you nice and full, yeah? Wanna let him see you?” 

Dazed, you nod. Barou goes to ask what he fucking means by that, but the words never make it out. He watches instead, as Isagi maneuvers you to roll onto your side. 

While Isagi comes to lay behind you. The angle you’re at gives Barou a perfect front view of your body, down the smallest details. He can see the traces of saliva left on your skin, the soft indents of marks. Everything stops, his breath hitching as he gets an eye full of your face. Sheer bliss on your features, shining with a sheen of sweat. Your eyes are glossed over, glassy. 

Before Barou can think at all, he finds a hand at his waist - rubbing his cock through the fabric of his pants. Isagi’s arm circles around your middle as his chin rests on your shoulder. You pick your leg up to give him easier access to you. 

Barou watches intently as Isagi’s cock pushes against your entrance. Your tight hole stretches around the swollen tip as your voice starts to tremble. Isagi curses behind you, quiet as he eases himself inside. He fills you up deliberately, inch by inch pushing into your hot cunt until he’s all the way bottomed out. Your eyes are nearly rolled back into your head from bliss, mouth agape and drooling. Isagi lets his hand travel down to your clit, his middle finger rubbing soft circles into the bundle of nerves. He bottoms out with a deep sigh. 

“Fuck, that feels so good,” Isagi groans, pulling out before pushing in again in one thrust “Makes me wanna cum in you so bad, fuck.” 

Barou can see how much the words affect you. Isagi must feel it. 

“Shit, you want that, huh?” He laughs, breathless and entertained by your desire. He fucks up into you now, starts his pace off slow - the sound of your pussy filling up the room “Want me to cum in you instead of pull out? Give you a baby?”

You gasp, shudder at the prospect. Isagi is fucking you raw, where Barou is almost always using condoms. He should be pissed beyond what he thought possible, and some part of him is. But another part of him, even quieter, is fixated on the pure pleasure you’re getting out of it. Out of being fucked raw by someone who’s basically a stranger. 

Isagi, ever the egoist, sees the opportunity and runs with it. He fucks into you harder, gives it to you deeper with a vicious smile. 

“I’ll knock you up, beautiful. Want it so bad, of course I’ll fuck it right into you,” Isagi croons, his voice edging on sadistic but mostly saccharine sweet “Hear that, Barou? Aren’t you lucky, ‘m giving your girlfriend a winner's baby. Maybe you could teach ‘em to play soccer.” 

Barou feels his own irritation bubble into his throat - but he can’t be fully angry when you look the way you do. When your whole body tenses and trembles every time Isagi thrusts his cock into you, like you’re practically begging for him to breed you full. No matter what Isagi does, it’s not like Barou could ever be agitated with you, and god - you look like you feel good. 

Your voice is choked out as Barou watches you get tipped over the edge. He feels his own cock twitch from neglect, but refuses to let himself go any further. Despite how painful it is to not touch himself. You reach for the sheets as your eyes go wide, fluttering back into your skull. 

“Gonna cum, Isagi, Isagi” Your voice is hoarse and trembling “S-somethin’ gonna come out.” 

Isagi keeps pace, fucking you how you need. 

“Let’s cum together, yeah? Cum with me so your pussy can swallow up all of it, make sure you’re bred nice and full.” 

You nod dumbly and hold it in despite yourself, and Barou watches you as you make a mess. Watches all of your arousal drip and stain the sheets as Isagi fucks you, how you’re so wet you nearly push him out. You bite your lip and take his cock like it’s nothing, his grip on your waist nearly bruising. Your shoulders sag with relief as he finally gets close. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” He warns, then a little softer “Let’s cum together? Cum with beautiful.” 

Barou watches you as you. You cum and you cum hard, hard enough that your eyes squeeze shut and your whole body tightens before breaking out into trembles. You’re convulsing as you pull away from his cock, a wet rush spilling as you finish. Isagi groans as you squirt all over him and the sheets, the mess of his seed mixing as you lay down. 

You nearly collapse into the bed beneath you, trembling as Isagi kisses your shoulder. Then for the first time, he looks over to acknowledge him. 

“It’d be rude to give them just one right?” Isagi says, giving Barou a cocky glance “Don’t hold it in so much.” 

“Fuck you,” Barou curses, groaning. 

It’s gonna be a long, long night. 

[bloopitynoot]

3 Shadowgast fics that made me ugly cry

Okay so I read a LOT of shadowgast fanfics and I wanted to share some of the ones that made me absolutely weep. (I was going to wait until tomorrow but I got too excited to share).

All of these have some intense emotional distress, but I promise you all they may be angsty but they absolutely have happy endings.

They are all set in very different AU's, are hefty completed fics, and have similar feels!

1. the breathe before the phrase

(171513 words) by @kmackatie Chapters: 20/20 Rating: Explicit Summary: The ringing note of a concert A is played by the oboe, echoing on its own in the space. It’s picked up by the wind section, followed rapidly by the brass, and the familiar feeling of an orchestra calibrating takes over Caleb. The tonal adjustments as each person brings their instrument into alignment sinks into him and something inside Caleb shifts in recognition as Essek leads the strings into their own tuning. It’s like something is waking up, like something unfurling and firing across long-unused paths of memory. His hands shake slightly, as he raises his bow and joins them, fingers fumbling against the pegs and fine tuners that give him control over his instrument. ---- Essek Thelyss is a leading violinist, his spot as Shadowhand of the Rosohna Philharmonic Orchestra has been uncontested for over a decade. Caleb Widogast is a recent arrival to the city, convinced by his friends to audition for one of the vacant violinist positions. After starting off on the wrong foot, Caleb and Essek get to slowly know each other, discover what brings them joy, create while defying expectations, and find out that what they can produce together may just be better than anything they can do separately.

Why I cried: The amount of pressure put on Essek made my heart absolutely shatter. That plus the pinning between Caleb and Essek had me weeping. The hurt/comfort energy. The bad parent Dierta and of course past Caleb Ickythong trauma healing. Other than the story itself Katie has put so much energy into explaining the music, the playlist is stunning, and the inspiration for the played pieces in the fic are grounded in actual compositions. No spoilers, but the ending is gorgeous <3

2.Till Human Voices Wake us

(66080 words) by @ariadne-mouse Chapters: 23/23 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Merman!Caleb, no Mighty Nein but otherwise canon setting/events, Neutral evil Essek, Essek-typical anxiety and fatalism, Loneliness, Hurt/Comfort, spooky gothic vibes, some horror and disturbing imagery, the ocean as a threat/love language, Illustrations, drowning themes Summary: Essek Thelyss, lonely and ambitious prodigy, comes to Nicodranas to make a risky gamble with the Assembly. At the water’s edge, he finds himself swept up in another dangerous entanglement he can't seem to escape — and as time goes on, he's less and less sure he wants to. Will his treasonous alliance or the sea itself devour him first? (Or, the one where Caleb is a merman.)

Why I cried: okay so look, this story was so fucking sad I can't even begin to describe it. The love and longing between the two, the tragic backstory for Caleb. Treason = death for Essek (it's a happy ending though so do not worry, but I definitely worried so you don't have to LOL). It also has some stunning art in it!!!

3. what luminous worlds await

what luminous worlds await (178674 words) by @essektheylyss Rating: Mature Additional Tags: Champion of the Luxon AU, Alternate Universe - Future, Space Opera, Religious Conflict, religious trauma, Violence, Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Dreams vs. Reality, Demisexual Essek Thelyss, Past Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Fictional Religion & Theology, Implied/Referenced Sex, Mention of Using Sex as Self-Harm, several immortals grapple with loss while trying to save the world, so so many liberties taken with consecution, this wouldn't be a problem if you'd EXPLAIN matthew mercer, and/or if a certain drow would give literally any straight answers, (I mean he can't give straight answers when he's not straight), Background Fjorester (Past), Post-Canon, …very post-canon Summary: “You seek my nature. It is a lonely endeavor. Would you like to join me on this path?” “Yes.” — After a thousand years, a divine champion awakes in a lightless cave above Port Damali with little memory to speak of and a beacon in his hands. Even as he struggles to piece the past together and process what he has lost while he slept, the future demands he answer for the crimes of his elders. It offers little in return, but perhaps there are fragments of possibility awaiting him.

Why I cried: Omg oh boy, this one made me BIG cry- honestly one of my favourite fics I have read so far. A true space opera, a story of love, in many forms, over time, space, and multiple lives. I sobbed from chapter one literally until the end. Though I think you will need an A03 account to read this one, but it is worth the wait to set one up. My partner watched me cry so much while I read this. I totally did download and save this fic to send to pals so they can cry with me. It is worth the agony for this happy ending. I might still be crying LOL

[pinkandpurple360]

Hey pink did you saw the new 4chan leak?

https://desuarchive.org/co/thread/145383112/#145394767

But the main thing for me was that Leviathan is a queen obsessed with fashion, and in principle, Envy is based on fashion(i already love her omg slay queen 😔)

We can’t assume these are real. So let’s talk in hypotheticals.

Leviathan sounds like “Him” from PPG. Using a drag queen who is evil, to embody jealousy is…a choice. A choice that could become queer phobic at light speed. I think the sins are more important to the story and world building, than stolas and his entire Bridgerton family bullshit only a few stolitz stans care about. And really, everyone is gay in hell? Everyone?

I think the idea of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ sins is childish. But especially sin embodiments who are pure good and didn’t at least work to get that way, is plain oxymoron. Sloth Lust and Gluttony are not better than Wrath Envy and Greed. One half is focussed on self indulgence, the other on harming others directly. BOTH are bad.

I wish she did a little more research into how hierarchy and power works. But this is a millionaire we have to remember …

There are no good monarchs, drug lords, and factory owners, if there is an oppressed working class and caste system. Even ‘nice’ gentle personalities can be part of the supremacist caste.

It makes a lot more sense to me if they are all morally dubious. Beelzebub and Asmodeus are both favourites, making them “nice” just because they’re faves, requires explaining their role in oppression as “they can’t help it” that writing is cowardly?!

“Asmodeus didn’t have a choice but to build fizz robots in his factory, and didn’t profit off it!” -> but that’s ridiculous. He’s not a helpless woobie. He should’ve had agency and decide to willingly work with mammon and sin openly, then changed when he grew close to fizz.

“Beelzebub hates the caste system and pounds but she can’t change it!” -> she feeds off of her subjects, keeps them happy and drunk, can’t handle negative emotions. She caused Ver to become an addict and enables her. The hell pounds is the same as a government leader not understanding how bad the foster care system and not prioritising it. She was the biggest potential for a morally grey character.

Why are you throwing out moral ambiguity and extremely interesting story elements??? !!

The only one that does make sense is Belphegor. This demon has been described throughout as an inherently neutral entity. One that refused to pick a side in the hell vs heaven conflict.

If I can add alternative.

Lucifer - a deadbeat leader too obsessed with himself to see the damage he has done and how his nation is suffering. he becomes malicious if questioned. Callous Neglect. He is malicious.

Beelzebub - The epitome of an addict. She is too engrossed in feeding off of energy like a parasite to enact her duties as a leader. She ‘cares’ about her subjects when they foul her mood and don’t feed her. Her addiction causes her to blackout frequently and forget years of memories. Her nature prevents reel growth. But she quickly removes and discards them. Like most government leaders she doesn’t prioritise having any improvements made to the foster care system, or more closely hells equivalent to puppy mills. She likely allows the system because she has no idea how to handle hellhound overpopulation. Think of her as being a teenager in charge of a bunch of babies and children. She lacks the maturity required. She’d rather sneak out to the club and give her baby a piece of bread to gnaw on while she’s gone.

Bee is the sin with the most gray morality potential but Vivienne medrano is terrified of moral greyness, the closest attempt is Alastor and Blitzø/imp. Bee is not malicious and dangerous. But she is not good either. As she is immortal, she doesn’t understand mortality and the fear around it. Marie Antoinette is actually a perfect figure to invoke, she was interested primarily in indulgence, while not the most malicious of the royals, not pure evil, but she was complacent and deeply classist in a polite seeming way.

Asmodeus - Because lust is a social sin, requiring interaction, it makes perfect sense that Oz would want his citizens to mingle with each other beyond castes and with himself for maximum pleasure. Lust also thrives off subverting power dynamics. I think him being non malicious but obsessively lustful and defensive of his sin, makes perfect sense to me. Like Bee, he cares only about having a good time. Any malice is hidden so the citizens don’t flee. But like porn does to the mind, it numbs it, erodes someone’s integrity emotional intelligence and their decision making skills. It really irks me that the Vees are a far better “sin of lust” symbol than Asmodeus who has become quite pathetic?

Basically, his “Ozzies” characterisation would be perfect if it wasn’t a facade.

Beelzebub - She’s a drug Lord. Enough said. She’s the embodiment of the evils of the Pharmaceutical industry. She’s also too lazy to be confrontational and violent. The real bel is like this.

[codenamesazanka]

While I could see how the ending of Touya going home to eat a meal with his family was expected, I always thought that was a touch too fantastical. Not because it wouldn't have been the perfect ending - it would have been a very fitting one, given the recurring motif of Todoroki meals - but because I felt it would've require an absolutely extreme restructuring of Hero Society - a complete change in attitude towards Villains, and, frankly, the destruction/reform of the current in-universe prison system. Which we saw none of in the 100+ chapters of the final arc post-Jaku.

Like. For Touya to be able to go home, means that the system is willing to change everything written here:

A detention facility constructed in the open waters about five kilometers from the mainland. Though nominally a prison, the facility effectively serves as a dumping ground for individuals who pose significant threats to public safety and security. Regardless of sentencing status, these individuals are incarcerated and heavily monitored. The prisoners have a wide range of quirks and are assigned to one of six cell blocks based on the danger their quirks represent and the severity of their cases. The more dangerous the individual, the deeper they're kept within the prison. Tartarus is the dark side of quirk society, and it is said that anyone imprisoned there will never again emerge alive.

That's how the story describes Tartarus, and absolutely no one in-story ever considers this bad (...except for the MLA's political party, who accuses it of human rights violations, but they're evil, so it canceled out to good/neutral again).

For Touya to go home, means that Tartarus is just not a thing, that he's not going to be in another similar prison straitjacketed 24/7 with guns pointed at him; he's not going to be locked in there because even if he can't use his fire anymore without hurting himself and that's good incentive to stop, he had/still has dangerous anti-hero views (Overhaul was armless and essentially 'quirkless', and thus of low threat to anyone, but he was still put into Tartarus for his 'dangerous ideology', as per the character book).

It would mean that Touya is receiving therapy in prison, so that when he steps outside, he's stepping out after having gone through a thorough checkup and made sure that he's not harboring harmful-to-self-and-others thoughts (see: Ending the Villain, whose first action when he was released from prison was to skip a meal to stalk Endeavor.) It would have to mean that the public will stop ostracizing people and be willing to give Villains second chances, at least enough to stomach the idea of Touya not receiving the death penalty and living in house arrest or something.

All of this is never hinted to happen.

It's the same for the idea of Toga joining UA, or Shigaraki becoming a hero, or even Spinner becoming an advocate that people listen to and take seriously. For that to happen, things would have to change. Someone - a hero, all the heroes, collectively - had to have declared and promised with all their hearts and might to make these changes, to be willing to go that far.

And these changes don't just apply to the League - gets applied to all Villains and all criminals and all people! If it was just the League who gets these benefits, it will be because of the high-level connections the League has to top-Heroes like All Might and Endeavor, and that would be audacious string-pulling, nepotism, and outright corruption of the highest degree. If you want to claim that Hero Society is doing better, you cannot have this either. Appropriate leniency and consideration of circumstances and rehabilitation and understanding and all that has to be shown equally to all Villains. This is what I mean when I say to save the League, you have to save all villains.

For the Villains to be saved and to be able to live happy socially-integrated lives meant that their society has been radically and irrevocably changed enough that they can and have a reason to participate - that that bright future truly included them - but it just didn't happen. it wasn't happening in 'we all became the greatest heroes' chapter 325, it wasn't happening in 'Tsukauchi grudging admitting they have to acknowledge villains are human' chapter 378, and it's probably not happening now.

[shardofcognition]

Wishes.

I'm not going to join the BNHA hate, but I do feel like the ending disappointed me in ways that are entirely my own.

One of the things that I noted, way back in the day, was that though Deku did not inherit his parents quirks, those quirks described his ideal as a hero and core aspects of his personality. His father could breathe fire. And his mother could draw small objects toward herself.

As it manifested in Deku... he could speak fire in bold words, and draw the small, neglected, or forgotten toward him. The meaning of the two, together, would be "to inspire the weak." Which I think, to Horikoshi's credit, he tried to hit on with the idea that the change hero society needed, really needed, was for the small people to rely less on institutions and icons to deal with their problems... to focus on what they could do, whether or not they were licensed heroes. To show that heroism was in the hand outstretched to the strange and the suffering as much as the fist to smash evil.

But with him losing One for All, and retiring to teach... well, I don't like that. And I don't like that, because it returns him to quirklessness and leave major issues unresolved.

I always thought that the greatest hero would be the one to help with the quirk singularity. I'd felt that, if Deku were able to take All for One, he could make it that beautiful quirk that Yoichi foresaw - the kindest power, instead of the most vicious. And once it was clear that One for All's essence would be spent neutralizing All for One... I hoped that Deku, who was uniquely attuned to the world of quirks, might keep that power and use it to help others struggling with their abilities, like Spinner or the Nomu, even if he did not have a quirk of his own.

That he might, maybe, spin together the small fragments of the lost, the quirk factor victims of All for One, and forge them into something new, something that could make things better for others. Not a power to defeat a historic evil... but a power to forge a better future. Deku's great ability, before he inherited One for All, and even as a teacher, has been to understand quirks and the creative ways they could be applied.

The world still needs, not just heroes to deal with disasters and criminals, not just teachers to raise the next generation better... but someone who can, in large part, help to make quirks wholesome instead of destabilizing. A positive, rather than a crisis to be managed.

Deku should be that hero.

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

AI Bracket — Third Place

Propaganda

SAYER (SAYER):

PLEASE it is like. THE ai podcast. and SAYER is THE ai in THE ai podcast. SAYER works as like. a broadcast inside everyone's head on this one asteroid. It does its best to keep people alive and sane not because it cares but because it is efficient. They people who own SAYER wanted to replace SAYER with a newer ai that they tried to raise like a child. So SAYER proceeded to fuck up said child ai's development and led to it becoming a murderer. pleasepleaseplease watch SAYER if you are a podcast ai fan.

I once saw a post that said it's like if an old gay English professor was evil

SAYER (it/its pronouns) is a highly advanced self-aware ai developed by Ærolith Dynamics. it manages the day-to-day lives of Ærolith employees on Typhon, an asteroid turned research facility. it is rude and condescending, but has a very pleasant and soothing voice

Sayer sweep Sayer sweep Sayer sweep please please please

Guys think about it this way: SAYER got emotions and it's first feeling was rage towards someone for not helping it. It's annoyance was how it realized it had emotions, isn't that so cool. You should totally vote SAYER (I'm not an ærolith propaganda agent trust)

#like idk the other character but its not Best podcast character its Sexiest podcast character. #and sayer is giving you come now gif tumblr sexymxn (gender neutral). #its giving stanley parable. its asmr-ing you down the tight hallway #you cant move your head so you will have to rely on me. very good.#its a mean voice that reads your every body response directs every aspect of ur life and orders you around what more do you people WAN- #Omg. that was aerolith dynamics on the phone. they said it gains the ability to puppet human bodies rattatouille style in later seasons 😳😳 #THE POINT IS ITS LIKE CARTOONISHLY AND EMBARASSINGLY SEXY. IT SHOULD WIN. (Mod Note: This poll is Who is the better AI? not "Who is sexier?".)

#please vote sayer because nothing good happens when sayer thinks another ai is surpassing it .

#i LOVE hera but i feel i have to vote sayer because like. it’s MY evil bastard ai #mx ‘remember: Needs Improvement’ itself #what an asshole (<3)

#agfjdlj i Know that wolf is a far more popular podcast (even though I've never listened to it) #but this feeling like an injustice to Sayer #its so weird and off-putting and it exercises this fact gleefully #its got the world's most toxic situationship with resident hale #the condescension is genuinely part of its charm #also 'pleasent and soothing' are not the words I'd use to describe its voice #(the words I'd use are Insanely Fucking Sexy) #also it/its rep. even if it is an insane AI i love it so much (Mod Note: This was written when SAYER was against Hera, not Eris.)

Eris (Wolf 359):

Basically a game show host but crueller. She puts you through psychological torment as a bonding exercise with your crew, and at the end you have to shoot her with a real actual gun. She is projected directly into your mind by interfacing with your nervous system and she will do something messed up. Her most recent iteration got blasted into space. Personally, I think she's lovely

A VR entity designed to do chaos psychological horror torture tests on Goddard employees. She's not malicious; that's simply her job. It's how she was made. (Maybe she can grow.)

She was in just one episode but so fucking interesting, evil/malicious AI. also a lesbian. Was shot the secound she became a bit too self aware

Art of SAYER by @j4y5t4g.

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

VH - Divide And Conquer

(Tw: attempted torture)

“I can't believe we finally have caught the legendary Vampire Hero”, said Villain.

The two Heroes glanced at each other and shrugged. The taller one frowned.

“Legendary ?” he repeated.

Villain looked at him with interest.

“Oh yes,” he said. “Many have fallen before your might, Vampire Hero. At least two or three of my opponents are behind the bars because of you.”

“Two or three and you call that legendary ? You're easy to impress.”

The other Hero was nervously following the exchange. Compared to his companion, he seemed much younger and frailer. His eyes were shinier and shinier with tears that did not quite fall. When at least it looked like he couldn't take it anymore, he stepped between the two, saying:

“Stop ! It's my fault ! It's all my fault if we got caught. Hurt me, not him!”

Villain gave the young Hero an amused look:

“Why is that little thing with you, Vampire Hero ?”

His interlocutor shrugged:

“You know. He's new. I'm supposed to show him the ropes or something. You have to teach them some way or some other. ”

“Is that so.”

Villain lift the smaller Hero's chin with a finger:

“My dear little one, how can I hurt him ? Many have tried and many have failed. I'll just make him have a nice little sunbath so he's neutralized. But since you've asked so nicely, I will take care of you.”

“Surely there must be another way ! I'm sure you can do better. I-I'm sure that deep inside, you're a little pure of heart.”

“ You heard your protector, you need to learn.”

He grabbed Hero by the arm, who turned his head toward the man who accompanied him. The latter just shrugged.

“Do you think he cares ?” simpered Villain to his ear. “Oh, he doesn't. He might be on your side, but Vampire Hero is evil. You're better off with me.”

Hero whimpered but didn't resist as he was dragged into the stairs.

“There are seventeen steps. Do you hear the sound they make ? There's an echo, so the prisoners down there can hear me coming. It’s all in the anticipation.”

In a sweet voice, he kept describing their surroundings while they were both descending into his torture room. During all the way, the small one didn’t dare fight back. He soon found himself tied up to a chair, helplessly squirming, his eyes giving a pleading look more than ever.

“So, young Hero,” purred Villain, “as it is your first time, I will make you a favor.”

“R-Really ?”

“Yes. Do you see all these instruments in the shelf in front of you ?”

Hero looked at the whips, the canes and the nails, and shuddered so violently it almost looked fake.

“I'm going to let you choose one among them. If not, I will choose, and you won't like it very much if I do.”

“You don't have to do this ! I-You just will make Vampire Hero angry and you don't want to !”

“You think he will rescue you?”

“I know he will.”

“How touching. But for now you're mine. So make your choice, before I get impatient.”

Hero pondered for a few seconds, then whispered:

“Um – the taser ? Yes – the taser, please.”

“If you ask so nicely.”

Villain delicately took the black rectangular shape in his hand and switched it on.

“Why, if I might ask ? Do you think it will hurt less than the others ? Let me prove you wrong.”

The half-hour that happened then looked much more pleasant for Villain than for Hero. And yet, as time passed, Villain felt somewhat uneasy. That had nothing to do with torturing a man, of course. He liked the thrashing, he liked the begging, he liked the naive faith of the innocent who was certain that he could be saved. Maybe that had something to do with the other Hero. While Villain was amusing himself, Vampire Hero was out of his sight. He might have been careless. He glanced at his watch, but Hero making a rather unconvincing whimper forced him to turn his head.

Perhaps that was the problem. Villain was used to the sounds of pain – the gasps, the moans, the howls, the cries and the pleas. He loved all of them without distinction, and of course he knew that they were a little different with each person. It was a familiar melody that Hero was singing, but thinking about it, it was slightly out of tune, and it got progressively worse. It was getting on his nerves. These rookies these days – they didn't even now how to scream right.

“Let's have a break,” he said.

“Oh well, I guess I’ve held that long.”

Villain raised an eyebrow, amused:

“Getting defiant, are we ? Careful, you sound like you’re disappointed.”

He stared into his prisoner’s eyes, hoping to get a look of terror, but all he got was a frown. Hero...genuinely looked displeased.

“Sorta”, he said. “In my time I didn’t have this kind of toys to play with. I guess having a little blue spark in your hand looks fun, but that doesn’t look like it does that much damage.”

“In your time ? What are you talking ab- wait.”

Hero tilted his head. For a moment he sounded impassible, but he broke soon enough. A loud, loud laugh resonated in the room, while the prisoner was squirming in his chair for a very different reason than before. His way of moving betrayed no pain at all.

“Are you shitting me,” said Villain, whose voice was now icy.

Hero grinned:

“You tell me, pal. I can’t believe you swallowed my “pure of heart” bullshit. I was laying it on so thick.”

Villain glared at him.

“Not that you were especially subtle either”, Hero added. “Oooh, the anticipation !” Do that again?”

Villain stood up and went to the door as fast as self-respect allowed. There was no one left under the sunlight. The guards were on the ground, unconscious.

“How -”

He turned back. Hero was now standing up, neglectfully throwing away the remnants of the straps that held him a moment before. He dramatically exclaimed, a hand on his heart:

“Oh no, he got away ! My, my. Poor little me. Tell you what, though. If Vampire Hero were so legendary, you should have bothered to know what he looks like. I didn’t mean to pass for someone else, but you’ve so graciously given me the opportunity.”

“It can’t be ! How could the – the other have escaped then ?”

“I hate to break it to you, but they are several heroes with super strength.”

Villain blushed and stayed quiet, his lips pursed. Hero picked up the taser, looked at it with curiosity, and switched it on. With a smile – a very worrying smile - he got closer.

“Hey, I warned you. I told you that Vampire Hero was going to rescue me.”

*

Vampire Hero is a recurring character. His job is to troll current villains. Check the Vampire Hero Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with him.

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

[witchthewriter]

𝐌𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

ESTJ

Slytherin

Neutral/Chaotic Evil

King of Swords Reversed

Scorpio Sun, Aries Moon, Capricorn Rising

Better known as Maegor the Cruel, he was the only son and offspring between Aegon I and his sister-wife Visenya Targaryen. The two conquorers were married out of tradition, not love, and bedding Visenya was out of duty for Aegon. Therefore, conceiving was much more difficult for Visenya, as every night Aegon spent with her, he then spent ten with Rhaenys. 

  However, Rhaenys was only able to produce one babe as well, Aenys I Targaryen - the older brother of Maegor. Who was the complete opposite of him. It was Aenys’ line that continued the Targaryen dynasty. 

 There is a lot to be said about Maegor, as he did a lot in his lifetime. Most of it was awful, as he was a man who was quick to anger and slow to forgive. When Aenys died, Maegor decided that the Iron Throne was his, and so he took it. 

   Raised on Dragonstone with his mother, away from his brother, father and step-mother/aunt, Maegor was soon known as the Prince of Dragonstone. Born large, as he grew he was described as ‘bull-like.’ Even in his youth, Maegor had a love for violence. 

  It was rumoured that Maegor killed animals while young. He had received his first sword at age three, and took to swordplay with ease. On his thirteenth name day, his mother gave him the ancestoral sword, Dark Sister. 

   Even though there were several hatchling dragons, Maegor never bonded with one. And when his sister in law, Alyssa Velaryon teased him about being dragon-less, Maegor replied that there was only one dragon worthy of him. 

  His was the fearsome and battle-ready Balerion, the Black Dread. His father’s dragon.

When Aegon died, and Aenys was crowned as King, he gave Maegor the other ancestoral sword, Blackfyre, and said they would rule together. And therefore, Aenys named Maegor as Hand of the King. 

  Maegor remained unmarried until the birth of his niece Rhaena. Visenya proposed that Maegor be betrothed to her, however, many disapproved and the High Septon put forward his daughter, Ceryse Hightower, as his bride. 

 Maegor and Ceryse married, and the day after his wedding night, Maegor boasted about conveiving an heir. He in fact, did not. And try as he did, Maegor never made an heir, even though he had six wives; Ceryse Hightower, Alys Harroway, Tyanna of the Tower, Elinor Costayne, Jeyne Westerling, and his niece Rhaena Targaryen, the last three of whom are known as the Black Brides.

  However, he did not marry all of them at once. Well, not the first three anyway. His marriage to Alys Harroway caused a lot of uproar and Aenys gave Maegor a choice - set Alys aside or go into exile for five years. Maegor chose the latter and left with Alys on the back of Balerion to Pentos. He took both ancestoral swords with him, even though Aenys told him not to. Septon Murmison replaced Maegor as Hand. And in 41 AC, Aenys named his eldest son, Prince Aegon, Prince of Dragonstone.

  There were positives to Maegor’s actions, especially during his ruling. He thwarted the ever-growing power of the Faith of the Seven (claiming that the strictures of the Faith did not rule the blood of the dragon), and created the Red Keep (although he had all the builders executed so the hidden tunnels would remain a secret). 

He also squashed any and every rebelliion in the other Houses, making everyone fall into line. 

 When Aenys died, Maegor came back from exile and claimed the throne. He killed Aegon, Aenys’ son, and his dragon Quicksilver. Afterwards Maegor was known as "Maegor the Cruel" and a kinslayer throughout the realm.

  Before his death, Maegor had done some horrible things to his kin. The majority of which was so the line of succession would stay true to him and his children (although no babe survived). 

   Maegor ruled for six years and sixty-six days and died without an heir. He had three stillborn children by his six queens, all malformed. He was succeeded by his nephew, King Jaehaerys I Targaryen, the youngest son of the late King Aenys I.

[yanderes-galore]

may I request a romantic yandere concept for hannibal lecter from silence of the lambs? I feel like he'd be a terrifying yandere

Hannibal is terrifying in general, as a yandere I feel he'd be worse.

I only watched Silence of The Lambs and none of the other movies currently so I am pulling from what I know for now. I only just saw it then hopped on to do the request, lol. Sorry if something is ooc :(

Yandere! Hannibal Lecter Concept

(Silence of The Lambs)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Murder, Blood, Cannibalism, Manipulation, Obsession, Stalking, Possessive themes, Biting, Licking of blood, Mentioned kidnapping.

Hannibal Lecter is a very interesting character.

He doesn't fit any sort of psychological pattern when it comes to serial killers.

He's shown to be very charismatic and can get in the heads of others with ease.

He's manipulative and hates those who are rude.

It's unclear if he has joy for killing but he does enjoy the crimes he commits.

He's described as a monster and is a cannibal in his attacks.

To keep it short, Hannibal is evil and classifies himself as such.

He'd know how to "play around" with his darling if he was a yandere.

It's impossible to say if you'd be safe on his side or not.

Hannibal is a dangerous force to everyone.

He also does not have much access to others to take a liking to a darling.

The type of darling I can think of that would be most compatible would be a psychologist darling.

You need to be someone who can establish some sort of close connection to him.

Hannibal does not seem like he'd be attached to a victim easily, someone meant monitor and converse with him would work better.

Hannibal is Observant, Manipulative, Possessive, and Charismatic.

You'd think he'd be sadistic.

Surprisingly he isn't too sadistic.

Sure he takes joy in his crimes but if we look at his heartrate he doesn't take joy from the killing itself.

Hannibal would use his charisma to run his darling in circles.

He finds it funny to see the gears in your head turn.

He's sure you're smart enough to understand what he's saying...

That's why he's picked you to open up to.

Speaking of opening up, Hannibal is going to pick you apart.

Mentally, of course.

While you may look appetizing he won't kill you.

The fun would end.

Hannibal holds respect for his darling.

To the point that if you were disrespected he'd kill for you.

He has no problem murdering others for you if he feels they're disturbing you.

If darling was someone in the psychological field then he'd treat you similar to Clarice in the Silence of The Lambs movie.

You may even bond more.

He'll make it as bloody and disturbing as he feels like too.

Hannibal does care for you in his own strange and twisted way.

A way that not you or anyone could ever understand.

Hannibal Lecter learns most of what he needs to learn from picking apart his darling's mind with questions upon questions.

You may not even know that's what he's doing while speaking with you.

Hannibal likes to mess with your mind.

If you're his darling you're subjected to that most of the time.

Hannibal both comes off as creepy and charming when talking to you.

How did you feel when he killed for you the first time?

Aren't you tired of all the staring?

They probably think there's something between you...

Well... is there?

Hannibal is the king at manipulation.

He may be a bit possessive of his dearest, too.

He keeps track of who you interact with closely.

He's a very cunning and calculating man.

If someone rubs him the wrong way when it comes to you, like harassment, somehow Hannibal will get his hands on them.

With you kept from him by glass or bars, you're safe for the time being.

Until Hannibal escapes one way or another.

The moment Hannibal gets your number you're put on edge.

He says he won't hurt you.

But how are you going to trust him?

While in the movie he left Clarice alone... he comes to visit you.

You are still an interest to him even when he's escaped.

He'll find where you live in no time at all and pay a visit.

He means it on friendly terms!

Perhaps even a little more.

Hannibal likes to study his darling and know how they behave.

He stalks you and hopes you know better than to call the cops when he visits.

The relationship between you is obviously very forced on your end.

Being a cannibal, Hannibal would like to bite his darling once he finds a way to get you compliant to him.

Not too hard... just enough to draw blood.

He laps it up like he hasn't drank anything for days and praises you.

Hannibal is still possessive out of his cell.

He keeps track of those you talk with and considers them potential victims.

It's also a reason he bites you other than the cannibalism craving he has.

Hannibal may kidnap you if he feels you'll tell someone about him.

Yet... he tries not to as the idea of you being free feels respectful in a way.

He's been locked up for years too....

Hannibal would indeed be a terrifying yandere towards you.

For better or for worse at least he won't murder you, right?

[genshinemblem564]

Sagau: A god's closure + world building

World building, possibly, it's here if I need it

Characters: Hu Tao

This came about from a journey to the "border" with Hu Tao. As an immortal being who grew up as a mortal, your own mortality, or lack thereof, began to weigh on you. When you finally reached your destination, you and Hu Tao were surprised to find a massive gate where you distinctly remember there wasn't one, and in front of it stood a hulking being which resembled an Anubis.

"Anubis": Ah, your grace. To what does this watcher of souls owe your visit? Ah, but forgive me, your memory is not fully intact, so I imagine you must have many questions.

Warden: I am a being known as a "Warden" as I am a protector of the kind and good willed souls that pass through here, while making sure the evil spirits remain trapped in their prison. This gate you see is the gate to the after life. You may note that it was not here upon your last visit, both it and I were revealed by your desire and divine power. Now may I ask, what is your desire?

You shake yourself from your shocked state and state the purpose of your journey.

(Y/N): I-I wish to know, can I visit my friends once they're "gone"? I may be immortal, but I was raised as a mortal, so bonds come to me much easier than they do the archons and other immortal beings.

Warden: I see. Well, to answer your question, yes, you may visit the afterlife whenever you like .

You breathe a sigh of relief as the weight that had been on you the entire journey here finally lifted.

Hu Tao: Oooh, hey, big fella, would you mind describing the afterlife a bit? I'm just "dying" to know more about it.

(Y/N): I'm also rather curious.

Warden: Very well. The afterlife has gone by many names, you may choose to call it whichever you like, but it serves as both paradise and prison. You may recall I said I am "a" warden, there many more of my kin beyond this gate. This place was made by you in your past life to be a paradise to all, and that meant making it a prison for others, and I must say your past self understood mortals well, as there are many aspects to this ever expanding plane. First, I should explain that this gate's destination changes depending on your soul. Good and neutral souls enter a serenity inducing room where servants attempt to lift the weight of their past life, and just beside that is a therapy center as some spirits are more tormented than others. Meanwhile, evil souls are brought straight to the prison, where they are kept until further notice.

(Y/N): Sorry to interrupt, but what is a neutral soul?

Warden: Hmm. I suppose you would say they are those who mind their business, or perhaps they are broken souls who could have done more if life had provided better circumstances. In short, while these souls are not "good" by some standards, they hold no malice within then. Thus, they are neutral. Pranksters, such as your guide here, are also labeled under this category, while good at heart, they are still trouble makers disturbing the peace and thus require disciplinary action should their pranks get out of hand.

You nod and smile in acceptance to this answer, feeling relieved for all of the broken people you've heard of. Hu Tao kind of huffed as if she thought he was describing her.

Warden: On the note of broken souls, there is also a rehabilitation wing of the prison per your command. In your words, "Evil is a disease. Those who are born with it may be beyond saving, but those infected by it are curable with proper treatment." So far, these words have proven true. Many a Rotten soul has been cleansed of malice and given freedom from their torment. Speaking of the prison, the only other thing of note is that it is ever changing in size to house the ever changing number of inmates, but this is true of all aspects of this realm. Now, onto the more pleasant aspects of the afterlife. As stated before, your past self understood mortals well and constructed many districts, with the souls making new ones with each generation. The first is the obvious housing district where the souls live or rather have more personal family time as, if you wish to be technical, no one "lives" here.

You and Hu Tao chuckle a little at his little joke.

Warden: Second, there are the working districts as, surprisingly, many souls find satisfaction in hard work. These souls do jobs such as farming, cooking, many different types of artistry, engineering, construction, smithing, and sales despite there not being a currency here. These districts include the market, the entertainment district where concerts and plays are held, the foundry where all metal is worked into a new shape where it is promptly sent to either the workshop where it is used as machine parts, or the ones made into weapons will be sent to the coloseum where the souls who yearn for battle can relive their glory and have crowds of adoring fans cheer them on for it, and then there are the self explanatory farmlands and restaurants.

(Y/N): That's, um, a lot.

Warden: Quite, and there's still more. There are also the springs and gardens for those seeking a moment of peace, the banquet hall often used by the warrior spirits after a thrilling match as they revel in each other's glory, then there is the central plaza which the souls have taken to calling Festival Street as all of the realms festivities are held there, the archives where those who seek to learn can go to hone their craft. Also, since many people seem to ask, yes, the souls of animals are sent to paradise as, while a lot of animals do kill, it is most often during a hunt or defense, and they are not all malicious. Pets will often wait outside this gate for their owner or one of them if they had multiple, wild and farm animals are led to separate biomes that are suited to them. These biomes are also popular spots to take a trip. Ahem, sorry, I'm just so used to being interrupted by that question that going so long without answering it felt weird. Anyway, back on topic, there is also the museum, along with the archives it is used to preserve the truth of this world's history, not the glorified mess they teach in schools. There are many more human desires that I can list districts and buildings for, but I feel you and your friend would like to make it home before the end of the season, so this will be the last of what I say provided you don't have anymore questions. It may not surprise you that many of the souls within this realm are quite religious, so much so that there is a statue of you, er, your former self in the central plaza, with many smaller shrines to you and other deities scattered throughout the numerous districts.

Hu Tao thanks the warden before turning to leave.

(Y/N): Just one more question, I promise this will be quick. As I've stated before, immotality can be costly on one's soul. This holds true even to those born with it. My question is, would I be able to give others the ability to visit?

Warden: If that is what you desire. I take it this means I will be seeing a few of the archons soon?

You nod and thank him for his time before finally leaving with an extra spring in your step. Once outside, Hu Tao stretches rather loudly.

Hu Tao: Mmmmh. Man, that took forever, but I think we both got something out of that. You got peace of mind and i got a new appreciation for my work.

(Y/N): A "new" appreciation? You enjoyed your work well enough before, I dread to think of what you'll do now.

Hu Tao: Oh you. Don't some archons to visit?

(Y/N): Maybe later, we were in there for quite a while, and all that listening made me rather hungry.

Hu Tao was about to comment before her stomach growled, causing you both to laugh as you made your way back to the harbor.

___________________________________________

Well, that was a massive info dump, definitely longer than I anticipated. I haven't seen anyone tackle the subject of the reader's lack of mortality, and the idea of a creator who can willingly traverse both the realms of living and dead has been rotting my brain, I also wanted the ability to give the archons a bit of closure, at least the ones who lost someone dear to them. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that rather lengthy info dump

[simplegenius042]

OC Alignment Test

Tagged by @imogenkol

Tagging Tagging @icecutioner @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @direwombat @strangefable @strafethesesinners @rhettsabbott @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @voidika @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @adelaidedrubman @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @aceghosts @turbo-virgins @shellibisshe @deputy-morgan-malone @softtidesworld @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @florbelles @sleepyconfusedpotato @titiagls @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @raresvtm and @deputycolt + anyone else who wants to join. Taglist here.

Decided to do ten OCs (five protagonists and five antagonists) from The UnTitledverse, The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters, Wings And Horns WIP and A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore for this quiz here. Results under the cut:

JOAQUIN COBALT (THE UNTITLEDVERSE)

I think this suits Joaquin. He's helps others, which also benefits himself, and is open to helping powers above himself but is not bounded to them, just taking advantage of the benefits to help his community. He's loyal to his friends and family, and though he has his own acts of mercy, if there is a threat against his family, he's not hesitant to rid of them.

ZACHARIAH THE ORCHESTRATOR (THE UNTITLEDVERSE)

I don't agree with this alignment. Zachariah's a controlling bastard, and being the second-borne Eldritch that is the Hand at Fate's Table, he believes himself above everything and everyone. He wants to enact his own rule and control over everyone, his own order, because his biases and prejudices against humanity blinds him from seeing their importance in the grand scheme of things. While his greed and hatred (against humans especially) does drive him, he does has reservations towards avoiding to hurt his siblings, as he believes them to be deluded by their love for the humans (and is rather envious of humans taking their attention).

SILVA OMAR (THE SILVER CHRONICLES [FC5, FCND])

While I do believe Silva is definitely in the "Good" range, I disagree with Neutral Good. I think she rather fits "Lawful" or even "Chaotic" Good; Lawful because she believes in the ideals of the Tumultites and the Sheriff's Department (and eventually Prosperity and Rush), "Chaotic" because she's a rebel against oppression, both in her youth, in her mid-twenties and in her early forties (she's fought against the Congregation of Adam's Guard, the Apostles of Zachariah, the Project at Eden's Gate and the Highwaymen) and sticks closely to what she believes is right.

PAUL YELLOWJACK (THE SILVER CHRONICLES [FCND])

This definitely describes Paul during his revolution days against the Congregation of Adam's Guard. However, that Paul is no longer around by the time he meets Silva again (pre-FC5 and during Old Dusk, my FCND fic). Honestly what would describe him best in present is somewhere around Chaotic Neutral, Lawful Evil or even Neutral Evil. He's too deep in his own self-hatred and regret (as well as under Zachariah's thumb) to have much good left, though his care for Silva still outweighs his servitude to Zachariah (but not by a lot sadly).

HAOYU ANABUKI (LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS)

This is one of the better alignments I think of when describing Haoyu. An alternative would be Chaotic Good, especially later on in Haoyu's arc, however, this is how Haoyu acts throughout most of their arc. Haoyu is not interested with others and mostly focuses on their own or at least a very close circle of their friends/family members (mostly their sister Monika and their friend (and future boyfriend) Icarus and his alters + Hatter). They literally don't want to get involved with the politics or conflicts of the world/s but Haoyu has long since learned they can't get everything they want in life.

SIR ENIGMA MALVOLIO (LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS)

I'm unsure. Malvolio is undoubtedly evil, and he his chaotic in accordance to his status as a Displacement. However, Malvolio also, in his own warped, very ignorant Displacement view, believes all the mutilation and aggressive transformation of the human body will eventually lead to humans evolving "properly" and "to their fullest potential". No matter how unethical the science is, he lacks the morality and empathy to understand what he does is extremely horrific.

ARCHANGEL METATRON (WINGS AND HORNS)

Makes sense, Metatron is the Archangel of Life, his position and species makes him loyal to All-Father God and the rest of the New Gods and their Heavenly Virtues. Even if the extremist he chases after does make particularly good points.

XIANG BA'AL (WINGS AND HORNS)

I don't agree with the "Evil" part. Sure, Xiang does force the removal of soulmate soul-marks off of humans, but it's out of the belief that it's better this way, as well as a bit of justice for his adopted daughter, Jezebel Ba'al, making sure no one will experience what she had. He's... just a lot more willing to break the law and pushes his mission onto others whether they want it or not. I'd say he's rather Neutral, leaning towards Chaotic Neutral.

MARISSA "RESS" BISHOP (A RADIOACTIVE CALAMITY OF LOVE, BOMBS & GORE [FO3, FONV & FO4])

Ress is definitely in a "Good" status, despite her flippant attitude which contrasts her more serious half-brother, but I'd argue she belongs in a "Chaotic" Good alignment more.

ARCANE URIAS (A RADIOACTIVE CALAMITY OF LOVE, BOMBS & GORE [FALLOUT])

Yeah Urias doesn't give a fuck about anyone; not his children, not his brother, not his home, not his protege, not even his Occult, hell, the only reason he didn't screw over Discord was because (1) he understood the power-scaling between him and the Mad Kin of Carnage was not enough to beat the latter, (2) he understands Discord in a way (since Urias is a Displacement while Discord is a second-generation Kin (re: natural-born reality bender), and neither creatures have much fucks to give about human ideals like morality or self-perseverance or even a concept of mortality) and (3) he got what he wanted from Discord and both went off on their separate ways to ruin someone else's day (for Urias it was his daughter's). I'd argue some traces of Neutral Evil but yeah, Chaotic Evil suits Urias.

[scaryspears]

Havik Rant + Wasted Plotential and Theory

Warning: This is a long post, so read if you have the time.

I love Havik in the 3d era, and I guess it's because there's so little of him that sets him up for mystery, but I mainly love his face. The way half his face is ridden of flesh and his eyes glow as if he's some kind of Skeletor adjacent creature. I always look at him and go "How did it get to this point?", but in a way where I'm laughing about it, 'cause what did bro do to his face?

I hope Titan Havik will be a great break from the cartoonish evil that is Shao Kahn, Shang Tsung, Quan Chi and the others. (Don't get me wrong with Shang Tsung, I love him, but his belief system is equivalent to a power ranger villain. He's basically Valtor if he was successful. I'm not talking about MK1 Shang btw.)

I also can't picture Havik working with or for villains like Shao Kahn, Shang Tsung, and Shinnok. Havik wants to spread chaos, yes, but I don't think he views this as enslavement and feeding off misery. Another thing I'd like to note is his voice and delivery, courtesy of George C. Cole. Havik is calm, patient and almost kind. Shao Kahn actively sounds dominant, Shang Tsung is calm but cruel and impatient, with Quan Chi being condescending.

In the small glimpses that I've seen Havik through the later games (before MK1) he seems like a pretty chill guy. Now get this, Chaos is his way of life because that's the world he comes from. Chaos is basically the equivalent of freedom, so Havik wants to share that freedom. In Deceptions Konquest mode he describes water in a way you only expect from a scholar with a love and sense for nature, and I interpreted this as him believing everything should go naturally. In a Christian perspective, humans are naturally evil, and it's in our nature to be attracted to wicked things. Havik wants us to embrace who we are, and our deep desires.

In Noob Saibot's MK9 ending he meets Havik and shares an 'understanding' with him. Havik helps him with taking over the Netherealm before saying goodbye and returning to the Chaosrealm, no back stabbing or anything. Next there's Joker's ending in MK11, and we all know how Joker is. But there's also Mileena (before NRS let fans bully them into making her dlc), whose bloodlust is fuelled by her Tarkatan blood, a trait she cannot help because it's instinctual. Finally, in MK: Deception's Konquest mode he agrees to train Shujinko if Shujinko helps him in return, and he does but in his own way. Experience instead of practice. Havik doesn't come off as evil but chaotic neutral.

Wasted Plotential

I try not to complain about anything these days because I know NRS are gonna disappoint us anyways, but if I was to really complain about things then I'll start with the storymode, and with the previous games.

MKX could've just been about Sub Zero and Scorpion finding out about Quan Chi and stopping Shinnok. How? Idk, Johnny uses the amulet to trap Shinnok, the Special Forces find Sektor's files and reveal them to Scorpion, who gets his revenge and yada yada. Helps them free Sub Zero and Jax, blah blah.

Scorpion defeating Shinnok is more believable since he's stronger and cooler (sorry Johnny), and has more familiarity with the Neatherealm. (What was the point of building up Johnny just to nerf him in MK11?)

Johnny and Sonya get divorced earlier on because of their differing views on the world (and parenting), so Cassie becomes a UFC fighter or a pro wrestler (as a reference to Johnny's quote in his MK9 chapter about possibly winning a belt in the tournament). I remember coming up with an idea where Jacqui leaves the Special Forces and gets trained by the Shirai-Ryu, but saw an AU fanart design where she was trained by the Lin Kuei, which sounds so much better since it separates her from Takeda. Jacqui shares strong ideals with her father but his overbearing reluctance caused her to be more rebellious and find another way to defend Earthrealm without him possibly intercepting. Instead of being a Jax variant she shares more similarity to Human Cyrax (technology + ninjutsu assassination), and that can introduce a little beef with Frost and have them both deliver lines that feel more personal since they have the same teacher, but have different morals that make them butt heads. Johnny ends up leading the Kombat kids with the Wu Shi instead of the Special Forces, edging Sonya to check on Cassie more often by trying to be involved with their missions. (During MK9 Johnny was glued to Raiden's side and his focus was more on the tournament than on Sonya. After Cyrax defeats him it's Raiden that checks on him.) Instead of Cassie saving the day, have Scorpion save the day because Shinnok is Quan Chi's master, and Scorpion needs to fix his mess. Also because Scorpion would have better control with his powers and has more experience.

The next game can introduce Havik, with the chaos happening in small ways at first, like trees slowly decaying and technology acting against them. Havik is a lesser evil than Shao Kahn, Quan Chi and Shinnok, but he's nothing Scorpion or Sub Zero have handled before since he's less predictable and isn't paranoid about someone threatening his power. Bro just wants to spread some joy and laughter (sarcasm). I'm pretty sure Havik wouldn't even have an army, and I doubt his minions will be anything like the aggressive jobbers that are seen in Outworld. With Shao Kahn it's power and being served, but with Havik it would be everyone serves each other, meaning they will inflict pain on each other and themselves = This game can be about the heroes and villains turning on themselves, by being more honest and less co-operative.

The Special Forces start being wary of the Wu Shi, Sonya interrogates Dark Raiden on information he could be withholding about the realms, Raiden counters back with how she is trying to enlist the Kombat kids behind his back when they are already content with their current positions.

Frost has stolen Sektor's body parts from the Special Forces, and plans to cyberise herself with them. Jacqui and Cassie are sent to stop Frost's cyber initiation plans. Cassie defeats Frost, but Jacqui has the need to rehabilitate her, which sets her at odds with Cassie who doesn't believe Frost is worthy of it, and that they must follow Raiden's orders.

Noob Saibot is working under revenant Liu Kang, but just like his MK9 ending, he starts plotting against him and the other revenants. Noob confronts Hanzo about his loyalty to Quan Chi, and how Hanzo worked with him even after Noob was killed. Noob's revenge is forcing Hanzo to shift between himself and Scorpion, ensuring that the Lin Kuei and Shirai-Ryu will never have peace with Hanzo continuously reliving the past and trying to kill Sub Zero.

Kung Lao reports that the head of Shinnok is missing, and Liu Kang accuses Kung Lao of having something to do with it, and so the revenants turn on themselves. A civil war begins in Neatherealm.

Hotaru meets up with the heroes and tells them that Havik is behind their plight, and offers Seidos help if Earthrealm helps them with the resistance in Seido. Kung Jin and Takeda are sent to aid and they witness the injustice and lunacy of Seidos rules. Kung Jin being Kung Jin speaks against this, and Hotaru has a problem with it, Takeda tries his best to keep the peace. Kung Jin defeats Darrius, Dairou and whatever. Although Hotaru keeps his word about the help thing, he is overbearing when it comes to the rules and their strategy, even getting in the way of the Special Forces.

Skarlet teams up with Tanya to find Mileena's soul (Because why not?They're sisters). Ermac doesn't have it, so they must find it through the Neatherealm. They meet Noob, who admits that he consumed it, but points out the location of the Flesh Pits for a calling of clues. Skarlet combines her power with Noob's to give life to the clones encased in glass (blood + shadow). The clones unleash chaos throughout Outworld, but Skarlet is not finished in her revenge.

Johnny reveals to Dairou that Darrius is behind his family's murder, and sets him free to let him get revenge. Sonya argues that he's made a terrible mistake, but Johnny says that she let Kano live and how that keeps screwing everyone over.

Johnny decides to get a drink at a bar, and Havik will show up, calm and collected. Johnny compliments his costume, and Havik expresses that his fake-ness is an interesting weapon.

I don't know what else.

Theory

I think Havik's hero equivalent would be Johnny Cage, which is where he would come in as the hero instead of defeating a former elder god. Havik isn't Godlike, I'd say his power level is identical to Edenian/Outworld, and if Sonya can handle defeating Kitana and Jade at the same time, then Johnny can handle his own against Havik. Just like Havik, Johnny has a separation from the other heroes concerning his traits and/or beliefs, even sometimes clashing with Cassie, who is always noted to be much like him in personality. Johnny has an easy going attitude that pisses off just about everyone around him, to the point . I think he would be the first to pick up on the odd energy surrounding everyone.

First off he likes to give everyone a nickname, much to their displeasure. Very adamant on giving them those names, but Havik would arguably (probably) be more accepting. I'm quite certain that Havik's name is a title given to him or a name he's made up himself. There are some fans who speculate that he doesn't even have a name given at birth and made up 'Havik' to be his name, suggesting that the name is somewhat earned through experience.

Chaosrealm doesn't have a real name, like Edenia and Seido, it's simply called Chaosrealm. They don't have a name for themselves, simply a representation of what they embody.

"Grandmaster Blueberry Ice, eh?"

"Only Johnny Cage may use that name and live."

Johnny's humour is fuelled by his insensitivity, even while fighting on the side of good he is self-serving, superficial and has a self confidence that almost everyone is eager to stomp on (he's basically a normal person). Even when he clearly doesn't mean to be insensitive (speaking the truth or what's on his mind), people still get offended by what he's said and express some form of aggression. Hell, Bi Han kicked the hell out of him just for touching his arm in MK1.

Now I'm going to get really technical here: In MK11 Skarlet was present and you could tell she was a stand-in for Mileena, which is shown in her sibling rivalry with Kitana. Now let's say Joker was a stand-in for Havik, and in his ending he voices his displeasure about the roster "But these nincompoops? They didn't really get me. Not even that pretty boy, Ninja Mine. Goodnight, sweet Prince!" meaning Joker saw some potential in Johnny Cage. Saw something that suggested that they are similar.

Johnny Cage's humour aside, there has to be something else.

Now let's get into Johnny's MK9 ending: Johnny starts to have spasms where a burst of energy would escape him and destroy everything around him, so he is sent to Seido to learn how to better control it.

Next, to Havik and Johnny's Armageddon endings: Johnny becomes enlightened, freed from vanity and leaves the acting business. What seemed like the joys of life before became meaningless to him, and wanted no part in the shallow lifestyle. Then there's Havik, whose dream for chaos becomes absolute.

(As a bonus let's compare Johnny's ending to Hotaru's, where everyone was forced to bow to Hotaru or be changed into someone they're not. Havik gets the worst end of it by being turned into Hotaru's 2nd in command. What's even funnier is that in the Armageddon intro I can spot Hotaru as the one who impaled Li Mei, but Li Mei is on the side of good while Hotaru is suspiciously on the opposite, despite being against the forces of evil. Why would he be on the same side as Havik when they are enemies? I would also like to point out that Johnny was fighting Darrius, a man resisting the Order of Seido.)

I already wrote something similar to this in another post I made like a year ago, but I'm gonna say this anyway. Johnny found out by himself that all the luxuries and fame that he sought in life weren't worth it. In his MK11 ending he ends up going on adventures with Cassie after coming to this realisation, choosing a life where he can always spend time with those he loves, not ruling over the world or being a dictator. There's chaos within Johnny, but there is a want or need for peace and stability.

Johnny should've been the one that was super pissed about being in a death tournament. Up until that point Johnny has never killed anyone, yet suddenly is expected to in exchange for his own life. How does he, a Hollyweird actor, fit into all this? He got tricked into this yet was able to adapt. He's fine with it, or pretends to be, handling it better than everyone else around. The "Sure, let's go and ruin someone else's life." quote from MK9 always runs through my head when I think about his dedication to defending Earthrealm and trusting Raiden.

When the tournament took place Johnny didn't really know Raiden personally, but Johnny trusted him. Johnny had no reason to be loyal to Raiden, yet he was, unlike Liu Kang who ended up losing faith and rebelling. Johnny has all the recipes to let his ego get to him and potentially betray Raiden, but he never does so.

If Havik and Johnny were to have anything in common, I would say it's a strong sense of faith in what they believe in. Johnny fights for the betterment of Earthrealm, Havik fights for havoc.

I'm very certain that even though Johnny changed over the years, the people around him still hold a dislike towards him to some degree. My first candidates for this are Sonya and Jax.

Read this if you can be bothered: [No matter what, Jax cannot stand Johnny, even at an age where they're more familiar with each other.]

Sonya and Jax are basically the order to Johnny's chaos. Being around them has also influenced (turned) him into someone he wasn't, which was a self hating Special Forces aid (What are is credentials?). It was Hotaru's Armageddon ending but slower.

The reason I haven't listed Kuai Liang is because... I think Kuai Liang has a bit of a friendship with Johnny. He's fond of him, but he won't admit it. He even helps Johnny in sending the Kombat kids into a fake mission with the Lin Kuei.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Give 'em Something to Talk About - Ace

Author Notes: My backlog of fics strike again! I actually don't really remember writing this, but I figure it comes from the timeframe where I was practicing writing Ace. And, heads-up, it isn't that I dislike Ace by any means. It's just that I don't actually get fic ideas for him on the fly. I have to actively work to come with an idea for Ace fics and I don't know why. This fic also doesn't have a specific tune I wrote it to (though it amusingly has plenty in common with "Let's Given Them Something to Talk About" by Bonnie Rait). Also, Ace got posted from the backlog because I rolled and Ace SR today (just the ceremonial robes, but hey, I took it as a sign). As per usual, Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/ romance/ flirtation

Word count: 973

It had long been an internal debate you’d had. Who exactly at this school oozed the most trouble?

Was it Floyd? There was certainly risk to be had there, but…. You didn’t know if trouble was the right word to describe him.

You knew who the word did fit, though. All it took was an evil grin accompanied by those sparkling ruby-colored eyes, and you knew exactly what Ace was. Trouble. With a capital T.

And yet, despite this knowledge, you willingly spent time with the menace that was Ace Trappola. 

Why? Well, there were a great many reasons for the ‘why’ of your reasons for hanging out with the young man.

For one thing, Ace was charming. That was how he got out of the trouble that he himself so frequently caused. You were confident that Ace could and would talk his way out of most anything, all while sporting a confident grin.

Then there was the fact that Ace was quite loyal. How could you ever deny that when he and Deuce had spent a fair bit of their winter break busing their way to where you were?

The very second you needed aid, Deuce and Ace would be there. The dynamic Heartslabyul duo, who were always by your side. Through thick and thin, for better or worse.

You three were fire-forged friends, but you knew full well that your relationship with Ace was a little different from your relationship with Deuce.

Deuce was your close friend, on whom you could always rely. Despite his delinquent past, he was the gentler one of the two and was always ready to comfort you as needed. Even if he was a little dumb, Deuce was both earnest and sweet. A combo you couldn’t even begin to guard yourself against, so you didn’t bother. Deuce was your dear friend after all.

But then there was Ace. Ever-teasing, flirtatious, and a bit of a pest. It was like bugging you was his favorite way to show his affection. 

Affection that he would staunchly deny even as he was wrapping his arm around your waist and tugging you just a little bit closer.

What had started as a friendship with Ace had swelled into what you could only describe as a flirtationship. Neither of you would take it but so far, and then you’d both stop. But that line was slim, and Ace had always liked to dance along the edge of it.

For your part, you frequently played defense. Showing any reaction was largely out of the question if you didn’t want to be teased mercilessly. 

You mainly flirted back when Ace left himself open. And his reaction was a glorious one, with  him turning the same red color as the heart that decorated his left eye.

But even when flustered, he couldn’t quite bring himself to keep away from you. Oh, he might not spout off quite so many flirtatious remarks, but his physical affection never waned. 

If you two were walking somewhere together, he would have an arm around you as he chatted about something that had happened. If you were sitting side by side, his knee would be bumping yours, which was always followed by his eyes darting towards you and a sly grin crossing his face.

His hand finding yours was second nature, as was leaning towards you as he barely lowered his voice to mutter something snarky about someone else in your ear just to see if he could earn himself a brief spout of laughter from you.

Oh yes, Ace was trouble of the sort you saw in films, and you’d always rolled your eyes when the lead lady would inevitably fall for his charms. 

But you couldn’t roll your eyes anymore. Not when you were in her shoes. 

At first, you’d thought very little about it. But the more Ace pushed, the more you felt your affection growing for him. 

Your relationship was a comfortable one, but Ace had never minded pushing the boundaries. And when you’d at long last pushed back… Well, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed the shocked but pleased smile you’d earned yourself.

Even when Jack was rolling his eyes and Epel was letting out a disgusted-sounding huff, you couldn't deny that Ace had a knack for making you feel giddy.

And that giddiness made you feel like Ace ought to have an alarm that would signal you to his approach.

All other forms of trouble had a warning, so why didn’t he?

“Ace, they’re staring,” You grinned slightly as you started to slip your hand out of his. His eyes followed your gaze, finding the horde of scoffing students staring your way.

Being the center of attention at NRC was seldom a good thing, and yet you seemed to constantly be stumbling into the limelight and drawing attention your way. Perhaps it was a talent of yours, but it hardly seemed like a good one.

Especially since, judging from those looks, there was nothing friendly about those stares.

But if Ace cared, he certainly didn’t show it, grasping your hand almost as soon as it left his and tugging you closer. His head tilted towards yours, cherry eyes glinting in a way that promised nothing good, “What’s new about that? If they want to stare, let ‘em stare.”

You felt yourself smiling slightly, grateful once more for that stubborn streak of Ace’s that always had him meeting challenges head-on.

“And if they want to talk, let’s give ‘em something to talk about,” Your smile had slipped into a full-blown grin as you shoulder-bumped the young man, and you treaded ever closer to crossing that line known as friendship and crossing the gap into a completely different relationship.

Ace might be trouble, but he’d always called you danger-prone. And who were you to disappoint?

[sadkachow]

sometimes i wish i wasn’t transmasc.

i love being me, but it just gets so exhausting. 

i’m not in an environment where i’m able to be entirely open about it, and it makes every moment when i’m with anyone i’m not out to exhausting. i feel like i’m putting on a show, pretending to be someone i’m not.

and then (and this is the main point of this post) sometimes it feels like the queer community hates people like me. not always, but certainly enough. enough to make me feel isolated, even in online spaces where i can be myself, because no one wants me to be me. the amount of shit i see by other queer people (even other trans men!) about how my manness somehow means i don’t experience oppression (which assumes every trans masc or man can or wants to pass—and even then, they must also be quiet about their transness), that trans mascs and men aren’t allowed to have the language to speak about their oppression, that we’re oppressing other trans people (by merit of being men, i guess???), that we’re evil disgusting monsters. 

the fear-mongering around t, the idea that it makes you bad and dangerous, the idea that certain effects of t are inherently disgusting and bad.

the way that we’re either seen as “evil vicious wicked men” or “poor dumb stupid girls- i mean boys- i mean girls”.

we’re hated because we’re failed women. 

we’re hated because we’re men.

no trans man or masc has ever experienced oppression based on their identity—and don’t you dare go look up the reported rates of violence, harassment, and s/a that we receive, don’t you dare look at how high they are! 

trans men aren’t allowed to see our transness and our manhood as connected in any way, they must be separated (“we have to protect queerness from disgusting masculinity”—which is also harmful to anyone who is comfortable or even enjoys experiencing and embracing their masculinity). 

gay trans men like me are introducing on the gay community.

straight trans men are either preying on innocent women, or they’re “better” than cis men, because they(“‘re not really men”) know what women want and are like and can thus serve women better!

trans men who still identify with lesbianism for whatever reason are either treated as women or treated (once again) as evil invaders out to harm women.

not to mention the trans mascs and men who identify with any other label than those three—no matter what, our identities and labels get twisted around to be used against us, to the point where sometimes it feels like maybe it’d be better if we didn’t identify as anything at all (except maybe that’d get turned against us too).

we get attacked for trying to have more neutral language (i.e. “pregant people” instead of “pregnant women”, “menstrual hygiene” instead of “feminine hygiene”, etc). we get attacked for having our own language (the way every single term used to describe transmasc oppression has been dissected and degraded until it’s become clear that maybe it’s not the word itself but simply the fact that we are using it).

we get told how much men are awful and horrible either as if we arent “really” men (“kill all men. but not you, you’re one of the ‘good ones’ (aka: i don’t see you as a man)”), or because we’re just as bad and need to be separated and killed and harassed and hated (“kill all men, including trans men. you can’t be mad, you’re asking for it by (existing as yourself) being a man!” “trans men really are the men of the lgbtqia+ community” (this is also a form of malgendering—gendering someone correctly for the sake of harming or attacking them (aka with malicious intent))).

i see so much help and resources for other queer people, but hardly any for trans mascs/men. i’ve seen support that parades itself as “for trans people”, and then it turns out it’s for all trans people except trans men. (this isn’t an exaggeration, by the way. i’ve seen multiple respurces that say that they’re for the support of all trans people, and then if you actually read into it, they’re for the support of trans women and nonbinary people only—which is completely fine that those support groups exist! but then don’t label it as “for all trans people” if it’s not for all trans people. that’s exclusionary, and can also present nonbinary identities as “women-lite”—and also often leaves no space for trans women and nonbinary people who present in a more masculine way or who also identify with manhood/as men to some degree, or for nonbinary people who dont identify with womanhood/as women at all.)

violence against trans men is so often erased because we’re misgendered even in death. we’re forcefully detransitioned. we’re s/a-ed and abused at extremely high rates.

we’re pitiful misled girls or failed women or wicked evil men or pick me’s or vile abusers. 

we’re evil and we cannot be hurt or oppressed because we’re men, as if that is not a point of view that is based on bioessentialism/gender essentialism, racism, intersexism, and extremely harmful (especially to marginalised men in general—trans or not). 

no identity is uniquely capable or incapable of harm—anyone can harm anyone, regardless of who they are.

and yet, and yet, and yet, it’s alright because we asked for it by simply being us.

sometimes it just feels so isolating to be a trans boy, because everywhere i look, there’s people hating me for existing.

im just so tired of it.

(clarification: i know not all of the queer community holds this stance. i’ve seen and/or met wonderful queer people of all identities who have been understanding and accepting. i’m also not trying to say that the things mentioned in this are only driven forward by the community—plenty of people who aren’t in it do this stuff as well. what i mean is just that it feels as if this sort of talk—particularly radfem rhetoric—has been incredibly pervasive lately, at least from what i’ve experienced. i feel like a lot of people forget it’s not just the “trans exclusionary” part of TERFs that is bad, but the radical feminism as well. radical feminism isn’t good. it’s incredibly bioessentialist, racist, intersexist, and harmful in so many other ways by its nature. but it still stands so clearly in so many places. this is also by no means a comphrensive list on the treatment of trans mascs/men. i’m not infallible. there’s certainly other things that have happened that i’ve either forgotten or am not aware of—and if anyone wants to add on, feel free!)