#may have to start speed running dis shit...

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

a little update: smau is going well chat. though i am fearful for i have hit 60+ chs yet there is still much to be done.

[fraugwinska]

Hiya Guys - Anyone up to read a fic I wrote to battle my little writers block? :> I know jack shit about Alchemy, so I drew a lot of my references and ideas from FMA - But I've already planned for a second part, and thanks to the lovely @impale-me-radio-daddy I have some good pointers and sources to dip my toes in more into the mechanics of Readers ability! ;> Until then: Have fun with this!

"Again, thanks, but no thanks, Carmilla. The whole 'overlord'-thing isn't my cup of tea."

The demon in front of you sighed, closing her eyes for a moment - maybe to not appear as aggravated as you knew she was. Carmilla Carmine has hounded you to join the other big players of Pride who called themselves overlords and acted like they were above everyone else. But you had no intentions or aspirations to mingle among the power-greedy wannabes and parochial moguls, as you told her - in much more diplomatic words - multiple times. The fact that she hadn't tried to force you into compliance only spoke about the power you held, almost wasted on you. Almost.

"I really think it would be...", Camilla started again, but your patience had run thin.

"...beneficial for all involved. It's like a broken record player at this point, no offense. And I hope you'll finally take my 'No' as an answer - Cross my heart, you'll be the first person to know if I change my mind." The warning tone in your voice and you standing up from the chair opposite to her office desk made her give you a sharp, cautious look, but she retreated.

"I understand. I won't press you on the matter anymore." She said, tactically calm, and raised her hands in surrender.

You just nodded her a courteous goodbye and exited her office, chin high as you walked down the corridors of her headquarters and out into the streets of the city. Hell was always busy, but the afternoons were the worst - everyone tried to do their last errands before nightlife took over Pentagram City and people weren't out for shopping or dinner, but for cheap and easy fucks or fights. A little kid - a cannibal child by the looks of its pitch-black eyes and sharp, pointed teeth - ran into you, preoccupied with its popsicle that looked too much like a tongue for your taste. Its mother, horrified, stammered apologies and pulled it hastily away, eager to get in some distance to you. You smiled at them - it may have looked a little malicious to them, although you meant it as genuine. But you knew she knew you were her. The one they called the Alchemist.

You made your way through the parting crowds, just wandering around. You had nothing to do really, and you generally enjoyed just walking through the city you've come to know for only a year. It didn't take long after your fall to get you the infamous name - Only the Radio Demon Alastor rivaled you in the speed you climbed up in the hierarchy of Hell. Tales were told, some true, some heavily exaggerated, some utterly ridiculous. Have you disintegrated demons into their very elemental parts? Yes you had. Have you taken out a whole district because you were catcalled? Not quite, you did that because those bastards from Mayhem Square decided to raid your laboratory and sprayed very vulgar and disgusting things on the walls after they destroyed your latest experiment. Have you sacrificed your loving family in exchange for the ultimate knowledge in alchemy before you died? Definitely not.

You laughed softly about the rumors. What loving family had been there to sacrifice to begin with? You were a war orphan. Abandoned and alone, only taken into a makeshift home and earning your living by signing up for human experiments when you were old enough to be smarter than just steal from abandoned crops and trash cans. If someone ever wondered if one could inject radioactive waste into a person and what the outcome would be, they would've found their answer in your blood and cells - a pinch of insanity, a lack of empathy and painful hallucinations. In exchange for your years of help and your resilience, you were offered a university tuition. You quickly took to science, studying biology, chemistry and, outside of the curriculum, alchemy. To the very last day, you wished you'd studied physics just to finally figure out the universal gravitation formula.

Your career had ended very shortly after your graduation, when you came back to work in the very same lab you've come to be tortured as a teen. But now you were the one experimenting on desperate souls that no one would miss. The only set rule you wouldn’t deviate on: No experiments on children. One of your subjects, overtaken by the pain your hands caused, had gone mental and stabbed you with the syringe you've used on them. Stabbed you many, many, many times. A fitting death, you thought. Your next time awaking, it wasn't with the sight of the tiled, sterile laboratory, but the busy street you just walked on. 

It had been a throwback to your childhood, really. No home, no one you knew, no money. But now you had your power. And OH, what a power it was, effortless and gloriously embedded in your being. Paired with your absence of empathic feelings you quickly gained souls under your belt. Mostly lower-rank and no-name-demons, you left them intact, unless your scientific curiosity got the best of you.

Of course the Radio Demon had sensed the birth of another powerful sinner right below his nose and you had the displeasure to meet him not even a month after arriving. While Carmilla seemed to have the strong aspiration to have you among her fellow Overlords, Alastor's ambition went in a completely different direction. First he wanted to be sly and get you under contract, and when you laughed in his face, well... he wanted to consume you and your power, rip you limb from limb and put an end to your existence.

Alas, you were way too powerful for his liking. The moment his claws sunk into you, the moment he would break a limb and rend flesh, the wound was closed up and the bone repaired. You weren't just good at disintegrating - the principle of equal exchange applied to rearrangement and repair too. His conjured voodoo-minions fell apart into cloth, ash and thread at your will, and his ego took more than just one hit that you resisted, that you held your stance, didn't even move out of his way but buried your feet deeper into the ground with a cold smile on your face - that you were equally as powerful as him. If not a little more. Time and time again your paths crossed. Where Alastor was Entertainment, you were Rationality. Where he was Chaos, you were Order. He was looking for the end of his boredom, you for the ultimate knowledge. His smile a facade to hide his frustrations, your stone cold face a facade to hide the joy you felt with every missed blow from him. You were attracting opposites, the only overlap was your shared egocentrism - You knew he believed himself above you. And he knew you thought the same about yourself to him.

So that's why Carmilla was trying to convince you to join the overpowered. So you would change from an unpredictable threat to those hot-shots into a controllable part of them. What a shame, truly, that power was never something you aimed for. Your only ambition was to further your knowledge about existence, about the nature surrounding you, about yourself. You craved understanding and finding order in the chaos. Especially since Hell was the ultimate chaos.

Your thoughts came to a halt when you suddenly felt a strange sensation. You were just walking past the outskirts of the Cannibal Colony to round (and avoid) the Doomsday District to make your way back home, but now something had drawn your attention. A sixth sense, a force, an itch at the back of your head. Electricity was in the air, and you only had time to rearrange the particles of dust and debris around you into a makeshift shield when a black tentacle burst from the ground and smashed it into pieces. When the cloud of dust around you settled and you coughed, you were met with the sight of Alastor in the middle of the street, his smile as wide as ever.

"Normal people go for a courteous 'Hello', you know.", you stated and straightened yourself.

"Ah, but my darling, you and I both know we are not normal. Or people." Another tentacle darts at you from behind, its tip sharpened like a spear, but you were quick to dodge and let the appendage crash into a digital advertisement for VoxTech newest useless and frivol products. The screen flickered for a moment before returning to its previous content, but the damage was already done - the pole was bent and the screen had a hole in the upper-left corner. You turned back to Alastor, giving him a displeased glare.

"What is your issue with me today? Do I wear the wrong shoes? Maybe my hairdo isn't to your liking? You seem to be a little more... enthusiastic than usual. And not in a good way."

The Radio Demon twists his cane in his hands with a sneer, his burning, narrowed eyes not leaving you as you crossed your arms in boredom and tapped your foot.

"The issue on hand, my dear, is that you encroach onto my territory yet again. How about this: A final fight, you and I. The winner gets to decide if the loser is eaten alive or is granted a merciful death."

"Huh. You sound like you've had a really bad day."

With the flick of your wrist, you rearrange the ground beneath him, shifting solid stone and concrete into sticky bitumen and tar. You can't hide the grin when he struggles to stay upright, his polished shoes glued to the spot, but his smile doesn't falter. If anything, it widens.

"I take this as a yes, then."

Before you can even think of a comeback, your view is obscured by a swarm of his minions. They're coming at you from all sides, claws outstretched and snarling. With a roll of your eyes and a wave of your hand, you let them fall apart into their basic elements, pieces of stained cloths and clouds of foul smelling ashes falling all around you. Alastor's grin is as wide as ever and you see the telltale glow of his power around him - and before you can even blink, he's right in front of you, his shoes still sticking in the viscous black matter where he formerly stood, his claws reaching for your neck, your head. You feel his razor-sharp fingertips scraping the skin of your throat, not deep enough to really do any damage, but still droplets of your neon green blood dripping from the cuts. With a grunt you grab him by the lapels of his coat and throw him over and above your head, and while he flies through the air, his laughter echoes through the streets. He's having fun, you know that. But deep down inside... so are you.

"Your back alley voodoo tricks are getting a bit repetitive, Alastor. At least make it interesting."

He lands a few feet away, gracefully like an antelope on his bare hooves, and the static of his laugh sends shivers down your spine.

"Who am I to deny a dying lady her last wish?"

His shadow detached from his body, the pitch-black entity’s teal grin a stark contrast to his red, glowing eyes, the wickedly growing antlers and his pale skin. The immaterial monster opened its maw wide with a deafening screech, and it shot forward at blinding speed. You finally moved, darting away from the shade as it swished towards you - it almost looked like a morbid ballet as you avoided as much contact with the ground as you were able to, frantically thinking of what his shadows are made of so you could destroy it. He had never stooped down to use it in your fights, and you knew that they had to be more than just abscence of light, as sentient as it was. The basis of Alchemy was simple: You can't form something out of nothing, but if you knew the compounds, you were able to rearrange, dispatch or destroy almost anything. You tried to buy yourself more time to think by another high jump into the air, only to hear Alastors static next to your ear, a hand wrapping around your waist with a grip that was intended to hurt and another on your chin, holding your face in place. Your instincts told you to twist under and out of his grasp, to rearrange your skin into something harder to prevent his claws from tearing into you, but find yourself unable to move. A hiss from below you makes your eyes dart to Alastors shadow - it has your own in an iron grip, holding it hostage in its black claws.

"Is that interesting enough for you, darling?", the demon above you purrs into your ear, but the question was unnecessary, answered in his laughter and his ironclad hold of you, your body pressed against his, arms frozen mid air and useless like a marionette without it's player. His hold around you is painful - it would crush a lesser demon easily, but luckily, you weren't lesser. And you still could, even without the usage of your hands, will your side he pierced with his talons to at least harden enough with the iron you drew from your blood so he couldn't tear you apart that easily.

"It's certainly interesting that you have to resort to gagging my shadow to subdue me."

The words were all but pressed through your gritted teeth. You knew you wouldn't be able to escape at this point. This part of his magic, his shadowmagic, was one of the only things you practically knew nothing about. And lack of knowledge, as usual, meant lack of power. In this case - the power to get out, to flee and regroup.

The touch on your waist disappeared for a second before appearing again, stronger now and accompanied with a pain shooting from where his fingers had dug themselves into the weak metallic coat underneath your skin. You hated the quiet whimper your body unwillingly let out at the sting, reminiscent of the scalpels that were used on you many times, so long ago. He chuckled, deep and guttural right below your ear before leaning his head down to your eye-level.

"Subdue you? Oh, no, no, no my sweet Alchemist. This fight is over, as you are well aware and I'm pleased to say that at last, I am the one victorious. The deal was the choice between eating the other alive or granting a merciful death. I just have yet to decide what option to choose."

He releases his claws from your jaw and rakes his nails down your neck and collarbone, his face inches away from yours, red eyes glowing even brighter and his smile that reached his ears with open delight as his claws tear deeper and deeper into you, his static now drowning out the sounds of your pained gasps as darkness grew from the ground, encasing you.

"I... really hate you, you know?", was the only thing you could bring yourself to hiss. His snicker was dark, malicious and infuriatingly cocky.

"Oh darling. I hate you more." And then it all went dark.

You opened your eyes. A blank, charcoal canvas stretched as far as the eye can see. A monochrome dimension for monochrome creatures. Everything had a certain damp feeling to it - the air, the atmosphere, even your own skin felt slick, damp and oily to the touch. Freezing. Unfamiliar and strange.

"Where are we?"

You still felt Alastor’s long fingers holding you in place, but the pain was gone, replaced by a burning heat where he pressed your back into his chest, a stark contrast to the coldness of the air surrounding you. Clean air. You felt no specs of dirt, dust or carbon on your tongue, the air tasted neutral and smelled void, the flavor almost painful in your throat.

"This, my dear, is a little pocket dimension I've crafted. To be specific - it's the one I've crafted the moment I met you."

Your eyebrows arched up, and his shadow let yours tilt your head just enough so you could see his face and his overly excited grin. His words struck a chord and the penny dropped - He, in his deluded mindset of superiority, had anticipated this day to come ever since your first encounter. This wasn't just a spur of the moment, he had planned this, crafted a punishment for the - to him - inevitable scenario that one day he'd finally get his comeuppance. Where he'd finally beat you. Planned to get you here to destroy you.

"It's not very... showy, considering it's created by Hells Greatest Showman himself." Your voice betrayed you. You wanted to sound bored, neutral, indifferent - but every syllable dripped with hidden defeat. Alastor had purposely created a place that you couldn't decipher, that held nothing you could use to defend yourself.

"Au contraire, darling. I think this is the most appropriate stage for our final performance."

His voice was dark, low, and vibrated from the bottom of his chest. His breath was hot and wet on the nape of your neck and the tips of his fingers on your chin burned. You could feel his excitement reverberating through his body. He was looking forward to this. To eradicate you. You closed your eyes. Rationality told you there was no use in defiance.

"So, Alastor. What's it gonna be? Are you a man of your word or aren't you going to kill me the way you've promised? What was it? Eat me alive or make it a merciful death?", you asked, but the only reply was his grip around you tightening and his teeth sinking into the crook of your neck. It was a pain so sharp and yet so tender that it made you almost moan. A pathetic whimper escaped your throat, and you hated how you could feel his lips on your skin curl into a smirk.

"My poor, little alchemist. I thought you, as a woman of science, knew that one has to define the terms you work with."

His fangs grazed the soft flesh of your neck, his tongue leaving a wet trail along the bite marks they had left. A shiver ran down your spine and your skin broke out in goosebumps. The grip on your jaw tightened and he tilted your head to the side, exposing your throat to him even more.

"Killing is just one mundane interpretation of our deal. There is more than one way to eat you while you breathe, my dear, and as for a merciful death... well..." His hand left your waist, wandered down over your hips to the hem of your pants and slid beneath. "... the meaning of that will depend on how this plays out."

The tips of his claws dragged over your underwear and your back arched, subconsciously pressing yourself against his broad chest as much as his shadow allowed it. He chuckled darkly at the reaction he drew from you, his fingers rubbing your core through the fabric, and your eyes fell shut in furious pleasure. You were unable to stop the whimpers and quiet moans that came from you, and he laughed at every sound he forced from you.

You understood the principles of biology and chemistry enough to understand why your body reacted the way it did to his touch. Hormones released, muscles tensed, senses sharpened, brain focused - and all that with one purpose. Carnality. Sexuality. Lust.

You understood the social components : Alastor, despite his infuriating personality, was a powerful and attractive demon. He was a sight for sore eyes and a feast for the hungry ones - you maybe lacked empathy, but you weren't blind.

What you didn't understand was that, despite your deep dislike you felt for the Radio Demon, despite the many times you've fought each other and how he's tried to erase you multiple times - your emotions were telling you that you craved his touch, wanted what he was threatening to do, what he was implying with his words and emphasizing with his actions, his hands working themselves towards your slicked heat and with his lips still on your throat.

And the worst thing was, he knew.

He could sense it, probably even taste it, in the scent of your arousal and the taste of the sweat on your skin. He could read it in your body language, how you subconsciously tried to move against his fingers, how your body melted into his when his teeth scraped over your collarbone and your breath hitched when he sunk them deep into the soft flesh of your neck once more.

The force behind his jaws was sharp and without any mercy, but it only lasted for a moment until it became deliciously soft and firm, his lips soothing your tormented skin after the beast within had taken its fill of your blood just as he breached the last physical barrier of your underwear and dipped two of his digits into you. He forced a soundless sigh from your lungs with the way his fingertips caressed you, igniting a feeling inside you didn't know you could feel.

The satisfaction you got from giving and receiving physical pleasures up until this point mostly to serve your biological needs, impersonal. The connection that existed between partners was short-lived and never personal, almost medical, with the barest minimum of any physical contact necessary, just enough so the mechanics of your hellish body came to the desired effect of pressure release to let you focus on more important matters.

But with Alastor, with his mouth still feasting on the sensitive, marked flesh at your nape and his dexterous fingers working between your thighs, nothing of what was happening was impersonal. Medical. There was no need - But want. A craving desire that arose like a hot flame deep inside you, making the pleasure you were given intensify and left you almost in a frenzy, to try and get more of it. A feeling almost animalistic, something raw and purely instinctual that you wanted to prolong instead of getting it over with.

There was no logic to the way your body reacted, no formula you could apply to ease your frustration at the way he touched you - he played your body like he knew it by heart, a strange turn of events. While you seemed so illogical in your behavior, he was strangely tactical. You were frantic, he was calculating. Every touch, lick and nibble was done with an intended purpose. And in return your reactions to it were completely without rhyme or reason. You couldn't stop the moans spilling from you as he dragged his long fingers in and out of you in an agonizing speed, the pad of his thumb teasingly rubbing over the little nub hidden between your folds, your hips were moving on their own, in sync with his movements as much as they his shadow's grip on yours granted you.

"I... don't t-think...", you gasped with another cruel flick of his thumb against your sore clit, "...you can c-count that as.. e-eating."

To your frustration his motions did slow down, the thrusts and motions he drew from you fading, the tension within building so painfully inside of you, uncoiling so suddenly just to be denied. His chuckle rumbled in his chest and he retreated his lips and teeth from your throat.

"I'm nothing but a connoisseur, darling - one has to prepare and season his meal properly in order to feast."

The sudden loss of contact made you whine in your throat as his hands withdrew, from your wetness as well as your neck and chin. The air felt even colder against your heated skin now, and you shivered when your limbs suddenly contorted, were rearranged by ghostly hands. From the corners of your eyes you could see Alastors shadow force yours into something of a bridge position, back arched, arms bound over its head and legs spread - and through the unexplainable connection between you both, your body followed, having no other choice but to obey what the immaterial shapes dictated.

Alastor stood aside, waiting, watching intently as your trousers were pulled messily down your legs by invisible claws, revealing the soft skin hidden beneath. They dragged the fabric over the swell of your hips, under your rear and over your thighs. For a few agonizing seconds everything was still, the monochromatic world around you in perfect silence, the only visible life your panting breath and Alastors everlasting static. When the last bit of fabric left your body and you were completely bare, he stepped in between your legs, raking his claws over the inside of your thighs before coming to a rest on your hip bones. He looked smug, he looked manic, and most of all he looked hungry. His tongue swiped his sharp teeth, coating them with thick, dark saliva, and you shuddered with a mixture of humiliation and anticipation alike.

"Well now, I think it's time to dig in, right dear? Especially since the table's so nicely set and all."

The impact of his burning mouth on your dripping sex was beyond the comprehension of words, all your synapsis concentrated at the singular sensation of the demon below you working his jaw with gusto and enthusiasm only a cannibal like him could, teeth and tongue and lips unabashed and unapologetic in their efforts to elicit sounds from you that bordered on the screams he loved to broadcast. You could feel him smiling at each and every breathless moan he wrenched from you, you could feel his cold red eyes burning holes into you as he kept eyeing you from below, tongue buried to the root in you, his claws pressing painfully into your flesh in a vice-like grip, threatening to break and rip at the soft skin when you tried to suppress the mewls in an effort to deny him his self-righteous satisfaction.

"Darling, I know you're normally the one who takes others apart - but I just have to wonder what you will look like undone."

You were pushed even closer, even more at his mercy as he forcefully shoved his face deeper between your legs, his black, twisted antlers piercing into your stomach, leaving dainty puncture wounds that stung and begand to trickle with your blood. Your breathing became more desperate with each minute, more keening and so much harder to keep steady - when one of his dexterous hands joined his mouth between your legs and curled the long digits deep inside you in search for the certain bundle of nerves - located an inch inside the vaginal opening, on the upper vaginal wall - that his skilled tongue had neglected so far. Your mind went blank and your whines became constant, unchecked and vocalized so much louder when he found what so many demons (and humans, if you were honest) thought to be a myth - the Grafenberg spot.

He hummed in self-satisfaction as you moaned shamelessly now as he rubbed and probed, curling, stroking, doing everything at once with his fingers on the spot while his mouth worked at your sensitive clit above, suckling hard, bordering on painful licking and even biting. You struggled in the immaterial grasp of his shadow, wriggling on his mouth, the intense, uncontrollable, uncontrolled and unrivaled sensations sparking from your core leaving you desperate for release, for any kind of relief, the pressure of it building so unbelievably fast in you, his movements, the vibrating static and his quiet laughter sending you towards a feeling that you knew, once experienced, wouldn't leave again. You hated that you loved what he was doing, hated that he was able to do what so many others had failed to, that your mind was consumed by pure, undulated desire for the damn Radio Demon as he - in a twisted sense of your own profession -destroyed and rebuilt you simultaneously with the same kind of unceremoniously fervent frivolity that was oh-so-characteristic for him.

Your eyes fell shut, a vocal and shuddering breath escaping you as you felt your end coming nearer and nearer, every flick of his tongue and every slight graze of his teeth were a thousand-fold amplified and yet purposefully too little to finally grant you the relief you yearned for so badly, to put out the element of fire within that threatened to burn you alive.

"Alastor... Please...", you managed between breaths. The words felt sour and sticky on your tongue, but you knew he was waiting for them. You had never begged for something before. Not for mercy when some of the researchers went over the limits of their set experiments on you. Not for recognition when papers you wrote were released in your colleagues name. Not for your life when the thick needle in the hand of the deranged patient rose to the sky, ready to strike. But for Alastor, you begged. 

Your plea earned you a victorious glare and another harsh suck on your swollen nub that made you cry out in pleasure and pain. With a last stroke of his tongue in tandem with his fingers against the exact right spot and a firm flick to your clit, your climax felt like you were falling apart into particles and atoms, crumbling around the mouth of your arch-rival. He had been right. Definition was everything, one of the rare things the Alchemist and the Radio Demon could agree on - He promised death, and that's what he gave you: A metaphorical one, devastating, humiliating and everything but merciful. Each spasm was a shovel burying your pride, each sob as he licked you through the ebbing waves of your high a eulogy for the respect you had for yourself. But this death, as disgraceful as it was, was pure bliss, was what ascencion must feel like.

Your body was slowly released from its restraints, feeling heavier than it should as you were dropped unceremoniously to the ground, and you closed your eyes again, feeling oddly empty when he removed his mouth and fingers and stood up to his full height, towering above you. You didn't even struggle even though your limbs were free now, just sighed and turned your head to look up and face Alastor as you heard the clicks of his heels next to your face.

He looked disheveled and wild - a mess of tousled red hair entangled in sharp antlers and sticking messily onto his sweaty forehead, the corners of his mouth glistening with your fluids and his blackened eyes alight with mischief. You could see the outlines of a massive erection through his strained pants, a small consolation that the ordeal he had put you both through hadn't been above his biology too. But before you wasn't the jovial trickster that all of Pride knew and feared, and it wasn't the tactical torturer that had worked you over the edge of your emotions either. This was the animal, the demon within, the monster hell made out of a man in its essence - limbs cracked and elongated, spine twisted and curved, aura dark and almost glowing in green. And it was stunningly beautiful. It was such an incongruous appearance, contrasting his normally smooth, proper and almost human demeanor so much that it might become your new definition of a paradox.

His hand suddenly went behind your head and roughly grabbed you by your hair and dragged your head up, just enough so he could bend on his waist to be on eye-level with you. It stung beautifully at the roots, and you hissed at the delicious pain as you met his gaze.

"Th͑an͊k y͈͝o͔̲͒u̧ͥ f̌͌or̬ t̜ͦhe̬ͯͅ m͉̋ȩ̞͙al,͍ l̵̅͝it͓͙ͤt͘lè̍ A̰̞l̇c̭̙̕h̏̒emis̏͑t." 

His voice was distorted and thick, it sounded sticky and heavy and even unhinged. For a moment, you saw his wish to bite you, to tear into your jugular and finally dismember you reflected in his ticking eyes. And in that moment, defying all logic and instincts, you would’ve let him do it. But the strike didn’t come, and the moment faded, along with his monstrous form. He shifted back to the demon you knew, hair still out of place but expression a mask again, a play, a facade. But there was a strange conflict behind his smile, a weird furrow in his cocked brows.

“I believe with that the deal is fulfilled.”

Alastor snapped his hands, and you fell, through darkness and light, fire and water and earth and wind swirling around you until you hit concrete ground. Quickly stumbling to your feet, you blinked. You were dressed again, back in Pentagram City, back at the exact spot where you turned the corner just before...

You whipped your head around, but the Radio Demon was nowhere to be found. The street before you was empty, car horns and gunshots and bomb explosions filling the air coming from the Doomsday District. For a moment you panicked - had it been just another one of your hallucinations? You thought you had left this special side effect of your brain behind in the living world, but you were smart enough to consider the chances of possibility. It would explain everything. Your hand snapped to your neck - no lacerations, no bite marks. Contradictory evidence. It didn’t mean that it hadn’t happened, but it increased the likelihood of the perceived experience being just your brain playing its cruel tricks on you. Just like it did now, flooding your nerves with a faint feeling of... disappointment.

You shook your head and sighed, turning on your heels to continue your walk home. When you put your hands in the pockets of your lab coat, a wrinkled piece of paper brushed your palm. Confused, you pulled it out and unfolded it, your eyes widening as you read it with a gasp that got stuck halfway in your throat.

Until next time, my dear. And if you ever crave more, there is always a table set for you. A.

It read in an obnoxiously neat, cursive handwriting. In a hue of crimson red.

[kinardsheart]

prompts!!! :

“The 118 responding to a helicopter crash and they find out it’s Tommy (nobody dies) and it’s just all fluffy and angsty with a happy ending”

ive seen so many variations of this but uh i want a go before i sleep so sorry if this is cringe or weird or inaccurate exdept i dont really care, ty @alittlefuckingdisaster !

perhaps heavy angst because im feeling really sad (phoebe bridgers is on).

———————————

“Mayday, mayday, mayday! This is Tommy Kinard, 217. My helicopters going down, the screens have shut down and controls aren’t working, I’m hovering over the structure!”

Everyone on the ground’s heads immediately shot up, eyeing the only helicopter in the sky as it started to shake violently mid-flight. Buck’s blood ran ice cold, nausea overtaking him as he looked to the sky, then to Bobby’s similarly alarmed face. Shit.

They were wrapping up on a big scene, a 5 alarm fire at a massive cabin (mansion, really) in the woods, right next to a scenic cliffside view. It hadn’t gone smoothly, but they had thought the worst was over.

“Firefighter Kinard, can you in any way control the plane and make a landing?” The captain from the 127 spoke, a dimwit having assisted in the fire alongside them.

No, he couldn’t. He just said he couldn’t. Buck had to help somehow, he just had to move. But his feet were glued to the ground and all he could do was watch in horror as the helicopter shook one last time with vigor before colliding directly into the ends of a forest, branches and wings blending in so thoroughly you could barely the bright blue paint. Tommy had said he wanted to paint his car blue the other day, over lemonade and giggles. A loud screech, Tommy’s loud “fuck” over the radio, and then silence. Deafening silence.

It may have lasted an hour, a day, or a minute. He couldn’t move. He was paralysed, staring at the fallen chopper as flames began to lick at the edges, spreading brazenly through the trees back into the plane as it balanced eerily, one wrong breeze capable of sending the copter careening off the cliffside.

“Firefighter Kinard, check in.”

Silence as everyone collectively held their breath.

Buck was about to press his radio, screaming for Tommy to check in, to talk, to just let them know he was alive. Please be alive. I’ll pray to whoever I need to, please.

A click, and then a battered, exhausted but oh so alive voice spoke. “I’m here.”

Sighs of relief were spread around until the atmosphere tensed again, everyone shifting into rescue mode once more. This was a delicate situation, and needed careful deliberation before action. Buck was done with thinking, being useless in action. This was Tommy. He started to run towards the fire despite the desperate calls to come back and plan behind him from the 118 & 217 alike.

Standing infront of the blaze, the helicopter a few feet above him, he went into a private channel and prayed once more that his boyfriend was still conscious as the vehicle leaned ominously backwards.

“Tommy, can you jump?”

He could hear the groan of agony even from the ground as the other presumably tried to move.

A click. “No… Evan, it’s bad. I- My leg- I can’t move it. I can’t move my arm either.”

The words weighed heavy as Tommy took a moment.

“You should go. Save yourself, I-I don’t- I don’t want you to see this, sweetheart.”

Tears sprung to his eyes, the reality of the situation suddenly hitting him as the fire crackled and hissed, making it’s way through to engulfing the plane. He had called him sweetheart, even with the acceptance of his death. The nausea came back with a vengeance, but did it ever really leave?

No. This wasn’t how it ended.

An idea formed in his head. It wasn’t a good one, but it was better than nothing. It involved him not losing Tommy, and that was all he needed. He took a few steps backwards, then ran forward with as much speed as he could generate before leaping, making an ‘oomph’ sound as he collided with a solid branch, chest screaming in pain. Scrambling up onto it, he looked up. Just a few more to go. Determination was all he felt.

He couldn’t lose Tommy. He wouldn’t. He was undeniably his soulmate; the only one he wanted to keep. It was ironic that the only person he wanted to keep had to be the one that was injured first. Maybe his bad luck was infectious. Every touch, every kiss, every look gave him butterflies, Fireworks exploded behind his eyes everytime the older man had placed his big hands anywhere on his body. The love he felt with Tommy was like nothing he’d felt ever, and he wasn’t losing it to something he fought everyday.

Panting heavily by the time he made it to the same level as the helicopter, his boyfriend’s eyes widened in panic as they met. Even now, those beautiful pupils brought him comfort. He was so gone on him, barely able to even feel the heat burning his exposed skin as the fire claimed the tree he was gripping on to.

“Evan- get down. Now. Why are you here? No- you’re going to get hurt, get down!” The other tried to sit up while growling, making the deathtrap lean backwards dangerously. The sight nearly made him hurl, knowing the fatal drop behind them.

“Tommy, don’t move, please. I have a plan. Let me come closer.”

The previous panic widened into downright despair, the arm that was cradling his injuries moving to grip the bar next to him. “Baby, please. I need you to leave and save yourself. It’s not too late.”

“The 118 is right under us, just grab my hand. I’ll save us. Tommy.” Buck was begging now, had been creeping closer inch by inch until he was barely a meter away, hand outstretched as the flames closed in on them.

In an incredible show of trust, he felt a familiar warm hand wrap around his just as the helicopter gave one last guttural noise. He pulled Tommy forward into his arms before they were met with an explosion so loud, so violent, Buck would’ve called it beautiful if it hadn’t put the man in his arms in danger. The shock had sent them both flying backwards towards the ground, and in his last moments of consciousness, all he could do was wrap his body tight around the older man’s and brace for impact.

Tommy would be okay. If they couldn’t be together in this life, Buck would find him in the next.

The last thing he felt was a kiss to his forehead and then pain. So much pain. But the ground underneath him was soft? Despite the voices begging him to stay awake as the warmth in his arms was removed, he was so sleepy..

Huh, did he have somewhere to be..?

———

“You need to ask him to move in.”

Buck grinned toothily, clinking his glass against Eddie’s in agreement as he sat down opposite him.

“I know. I’ve already picked out the place.”

“Cocky.” They laughed, letting the pleasant buzz overtake them.

———

“Yeah, I’ll come get him. Sorry Maddie.”

“Don’t be sorry, he’s my baby brother. I’d love for him to stay but he keeps talking about missing his hot pilot boyfriend.”

Tommy chuckled, saying that he would be there soon and ending the call.

When he pulled up, parking and walking inside, he was met with a sight to say the least.

Evan was sprawled out on the couch, shirt riding up ever so deliciously, but eyes red-rimmed as if he was crying. It made alarm bells go off in his head as he raised a hand to gently hold his face.

“You okay baby?”

Those beautiful glassy baby blues flicked over to meet his, tears immediately falling as he started wailing, launching himself into the chest infront of him. “Tooooommmmyyyy…~”

He was so, so drunk. The older man chuckled, bundling the lanky man up in his arms princess style, before dipping his head in acknowledgement to Maddie in the corner. She smiled at him warmly, yet the happiness didn’t meet her eyes. “You know he loves you… like, so much, right?”

He had heard. “The feelings mutual, I assure you.”

The brunette shook her head. “I know that. But I want you to know Tommy, it’s not just him. We love you too. You have a place in this family, even if you’re not married. You don’t need to constantly act like you’re an outsider because you’re not. We love you, Tommy. We’re always going to be here for you.”

Oh. Picking up his drunk lover wasn’t something he expected to be done with in tears, but the 118 (though Maddie wasn’t technically a part of them), had ways of surprising him. He nodded, a bit choked up as she leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. When had she gotten so close?

———

When he was able to place Evan gently in the frontseat, he was met with eyes that should’ve been shut staring right at him with adoration.

Alright, he couldn’t help it if he leaned forward to place a kiss on those pouting lips, and then on the enticing birthmark above.

“I love you, Evan. I’m so excited to live with you.”

The other smiled goofily, sighing in content.

“Tomorrow. We move in tomorrow, right?”

“Yep.”

“I love you too, Tommy. I think we were born to be together. I think that in every life, I’d find you.. every life, I’d fight to come home to you. Forever.”

He chuckled affectionately and shook his head. “In every life, Evan.”

———

“He’s not breathing, start compressions.”

———

“Evan!”

“Step back, sir, we’ve got this.”

“No, he’s my- we were meant to move in today, please let me-”

“Sir, we can handle this.”

“No pulse, restarting compressions.”

“Please…”

———

“I’ve got a pulse!”

[callme-dickmaster]

Basket Case

Ch. Five - The Body

summary: a search for a missing friend makes you believe in monsters and a body is found cw: this may be v long, afab! reader, minimal use of y/n, bullying, language, fear of slut shaming, cutesy makeover, will died lol author's note: hullo

Wednesday, November 9th, 1983

You followed Nancy into Steve's backyard, feeling completely out of place. Nancy had you slamming on your brakes when she gasped and saw Barb's car still parked a couple houses away from Steve's. Nancy looked in the windows and you picked the lock on the trunk before popping it open. Nothing. Just a blanket and some shoes.

"Barb!" Nancy called, turning every which direction as she yelled her friend's name. She sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Come on. Steve's house is down the hill," Nancy said, leading you to the house.

"Nancy!" you hissed, jogging to catch up to her. "Steve would kick my ass if he knew I was here!" you whispered. Nancy nodded, mumbling something about how they'd be quick. "Barb?" Nancy called, stepping into the trees. "Barbara?" You tried, turning in circles.

You turned to tell Nancy you would go back to wait in the car when a large creature snarled, skittering across the path and disappearing behind a bush. "Shit!" you yelped. Nancy tripped trying to run away, and both of you booked it back to your car in the street. "Did you see that?!" you screeched, starting the car but too shaken to drive. "Yeah!" Nancy cried, dropping her head into her hands.

"C-can you take me home? I-I need to tell my mom..." she stuttered, tears starting to fall. You nodded, speeding away to Nancy's house. "I hope Barb is okay," you tried, glancing at the very upset girl in your passenger seat. Nancy nodded, looking out the window. "Me too..." you pulled up outside the Wheeler home and followed Nancy inside.

"Hey! You're home early! How was the game?" Mrs. Wheeler asked, stirring something up for dinner. She looked up at the silence and dropped the spoon seeing Nancy's tear-stained cheeks and Y/n Henderson in her front entryway. "Nancy? Girls, what's the matter?" the woman asked.

"It's Barb...I think something happened. Something terrible," Nancy cried. Mrs. Wheeler came up and hugged her daughter, putting a hand on your arm and inviting you to stay for dinner. You reluctantly agreed, running out to the car to grab your bag.

When you came inside, Nancy was in full blown tears and Mrs. Wheeler was on the phone. "You alright?" you asked, sitting next to her.

Nancy shook her head, "I'm so scared to tell her what happened...I feel like she's going to be so mad," she cried. You took her hand, glancing at Mrs. Wheeler in the other room, and wrapped an arm around Nancy's shoulders.

"She'll have to get over it. It was just one night. I mean, if that's the one thing she takes away from whatever you tell her, then that's on her. Right now, we just need to focus on trying to help your friend," you said. Nancy sniffed and nodded. She was so nervous about what her mom would say. She really didn't want to be slut shamed by her own mother. You ran your hand up and down Nancy's back, screwing your mouth to the side. You really didn't have much to say, and you felt bad about it.

Mrs. Wheeler thankfully interrupted when she walked back into the room. "Okay, the Hollands are coming over after dinner. Nancy, please talk to me...what's going on?" Mrs. Wheeler asked. Nancy's eyes automatically when to the floor. "C-can we wait? Until Barb's parents get here?" Nancy stuttered. Mrs. Wheeler nodded, patting her daughter's knee before she started dinner.

Nancy led you upstairs to her room and sighed, falling back on her bed. "I'm so scared. I...I feel like I could've done something to stop this from happening," she said, dragging her hands down her face. You nodded, sitting behind her on the bed.

"Yeah...I think we should just wait until her parents come over to worry too much about it. Just be honest with them and they'll have to appreciate that at least," you said, messing with your sleeve. Nancy nodded, taking a deep breath. "Let's do something fun! Keep my mind off it," she said, sitting up and rifling around in her vanity drawers. You cocked your head to the side when she popped back up with a makeup bag in hand.

"You ever had a makeover?" Nancy smiled.

Your eyes widened and you shook your head frantically, scooting back on the bed while Nancy jumped to sit in front of you. "It'll be fun! Come on..." Nancy took out various brightly colored palettes and brushes and started playing with her makeup on your face.

"See? You look pretty. It's easier to see your eyes when you don't have all that black shit on them," Nancy giggled.

"Hey, I like that black shit," you smiled.

"Girls! Dinner!" Mrs. Wheeler called. You and Nancy both sighed, trudging downstairs for whatever home cooked American dinner Nancy's mom came up with. "Oh! Y/n! You did your makeup!" Mrs. Wheeler grinned.

You shrugged, biting into your potatoes, "Nancy did it," you smiled shyly. Mrs. Wheeler complimented you, saying you "looked beautiful" which earned another shy smile and a shrug.

Barb's parents came right as Mrs. Wheeler was finishing the dishes and Mr. Wheeler was about to doze off in his chair. Nancy took your hand, silently begging you to sit with her while they talked. You sighed and sat next to Nancy and Mrs. Holland. You held the girl's hand as she cried and told the whole story. Even when Mike came in and gave them the news that Will was dead. That he was there, and he saw them pull his body out of the quarry.

"Where's Dustin?" You asked, standing from the couch.

"I-I think h-he went home," Mike sniffled. You stuttered out something about having to leave and ran out the door to your car. You sped home and barely slammed the car door shut before you were inside.

"Dustin?! Hey! Dustin!" you yelled, running around the house trying to find him. "Y/n?" you heard your little brother say in the smallest voice you'd ever heard. You sighed in relief, running over to wrap him in a tight hug.

"Mike told me...I'm so sorry, Dustin," you whispered. Dustin gripped onto your shirt, burying his face in your neck. "C-can I sleep with you tonight?" he mumbled. You nodded, pushing back his curls, "Of course you can. Have you eaten? Do you want me to make something?" you asked.

Dustin smiled half-heartedly and nodded, going to get ready for bed while you made something quick. You slid his plate across the counter and set yours aside so you could get ready yourself.

"Ready?" you asked.

Dustin nodded, finishing the last of his late dinner. You pat his back, setting the dishes in the sink before leading him to your room. You smoothed his curls away from his face, lying next to him with a soft smile. "It sucks. I know. But he'll be okay wherever he is, okay?" you said softly.

Dustin nodded sadly, curling in close to you before eventually falling asleep. You squeezed your eyes shut and held him tightly in your arms, thankful selfishly in the back of your mind it wasn't your brother they pulled out of the water.

<3

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Confession 🌸💕

Steve's attack in the Upside Down cements how you feel about him but you think he still loves Nancy.

You don't realise he's in love with someone else.... You.

❤️🌸 18+ Minors DNI, very fluffy, slightly angsty one shot.

If you enjoyed this leave a like or reblog ❤️ I don't give anyone permission to copy, repost or reuse my work 💕

❤️

The bites were bad that was the first thing you noticed as Steve collapses against the cave he was beside.

You rush over to him immediately, the wound around his neck is severe and it makes your anxiety around this whole situation even worse.

Would he be okay? How far could he go before he needed to go to the doctor?

The wounds on his side need bandaged quick and you rip off a piece of your shift to use it as a makeshift bandage.

"This will hurt for a minute okay but we need to bandage this up" he nods and adjusts himself so you can wrap the shirt around him, he winces, hands running through his hair as a pained moan escapes him.

He's covered in dirt and blood and grime, you shouldn't find him attractive like this but you do... God, you had been smitten with Steve since last year.

Ever since you became friends with Robin, ever since all the shit that happened on July 4th.

The experience bonded you, Robin and Steve, being part of the Scoop Troop team, facing the Russians, Steve getting beat up, the drugs they fed all three of you, sharing secrets it connected you.

Steve got his mojo back and started dating, charming girls, being himself and along the way you got to know him better, you helped each other deal with the trauma from July 4th and the days surrounding it.

Sometimes you would have movie nights with Robin and you would wake up nestled into Steve.

"You looked so comfy I didn't have the heart to move you"

The truth was you could happily stay there forever.

That kick started all the butterflies in your belly, heart racing, feelings for him.

Now here you were with him in The Upside Down, along with Eddie, Nancy and Robin because Steve had been dragged into the gate that led to it. Watergate.

You didn't hesitate as you jumped in after him, your heart was pounding, fear mixing with the need to protect Steve and you ended up here along with the others, beating the shit out of those demobats who attacked Steve.

You smile as he's all patched up.

"There, all better" his gaze is soft as he stares down at you.

"Is he okay?" Nancy comes up to you both and you nod.

"All fixed up" you give Steve a small smile and move away, not wanting to see the way Steve looks at Nancy, you know he's still in love with her.

Nearly losing Steve has made you realise that you're head over heels in love with him but it was hopeless because he wouldn't want you, not if he could have Nancy.

Even if he did feel the same you would be a second choice and you didn't want to be that.

"Hey?" Steve's hand connects with yours, his thumb circling around your palm.

"Yes?" you try to ignore the way your heart speeds up at just his very touch.

"Thank you, sweetheart" you shrug like it's no big deal but then pause for a second.

Fuck it, you may die in this hellhole world so if you did you would rather go out with no regrets.

Ever so gently you kiss his cheek, hand rested on his chest.

"I'd do anything for you Steve" his breath hitches and you move away, not looking at the others.

"Let's find some way out of this shithole yeah?"

🌸💕

A week had passed everything was back to well not normal but a now monster free town...

An earthquake had rocked the town after Vecna's defeat and The Upside Down's destruction.

Clean up, restoration and recovery was happening and you were helping Stev go through things in your house that could have donated to help those in need.

Eddie was in hospital after a vicious demobat attack, he nearly died but thankfully managed to pull through, his name had been cleared by a miraculously returning Jim Hopper of any involvement with the murders of Chrissy, Jordan, Freddie.

Max was okay, her leg and arm had been broken during Vecna putting her under his curse a second time but she was healing.

Hawkins would heal too in time.

Steve's hand on your shoulder breaks you out of your thoughts and you continue folding up clothes.

"You okay?" he asks concerned and you nod.

"Just glad this is all finally over" he grins and hoists up one of the boxes to put in his car.

"Shit, tell me about it. Will be nice to not having to worry about facing monsters, worry about losing people I love" he looks up at you and your stomach sinks a little.

He must be talking about Nancy.

"Yeah...you know Jonathan and Nancy broke up?" he surprises you when he tells you he already knows.

"We talked, we talked a lot actually" oh, you figured they would at some point you just didn't realise it would be so soon.

"I'm happy for you Steve, you and Nance are back together right? I know you love her. I'm happy for you" turning away you will the tears not to come, curse yourself for not saying sooner.

Not like it would make a difference if he didn't feel the same way.

"We aren't back together honey" okay, this does shock you and you turn back to Steve confused.

"I thought...you still love her?" he walks over to you, his gaze intent on yours.

"For a long time I did but not anymore and I told her that. Truth is? I'm in love with someone else"

Someone else? "Who? One of the girls you dated recently?" he shakes his head.

"No, that was just sex, me losing myself in that because I couldn't have what I really wanted, who I wanted because I wasn't sure how she felt" he smiles, gaze tender as he looks at you.

"Can you not think of who it is hmm? I'll give you a hint? She's brave, beautiful, kind and so hilarious. She makes me laugh like no one else has, I've fallen in love with her like I have with nobody else and she's standing in front of me right now"

He loves me, tears pool in your eyes and he wipes them away softly.

"Little birdies have told me you obviously feel the same and I'm clearly a dingus who needs to be told everything"

Dustin and Robin, this makes you giggle and he gently kisses your forehead then looks into your eyes.

"I'm just wondering if they are right? Usually are. Being both geniuses and all" to answer his question you kiss him and he's kissing you back, hands running up your back, tangling in your hair.

Briefly you pull away.

"It's always been you Steve, I love you too" you kiss again and he whispers those three little words over and over again.

I love you.

[rei-ismyname]

X-Men: The End - Review

Book 1: Dreamers and Demons

In one of Chris Claremont's many ill-advised returns to the X-books, he set about writing a hypothetical and non-canon end to the series. Set about 15 years in the future, the story travels to every corner of the X universe - if briefly - so if nothing else everyone gets an answer for where their favourite character ends.

Greg Land did the cover. I hate Greg Land.

I praise it mostly on a conceptual level. Pretty much every long running corner of the MU received a 'The End' mini, but Claremont split it up into 3 separate miniseries. Captain America and Iron Man both got 5 issues, KISS (yes, the band) got 3, the X-Men got 18. As someone who always wanted characters to die, grow and retire but was often foiled or undone by fiat - I respect that he'd want to do it properly. However, more is not always better. It's fun, cringe, and nonsensical at times. A LOT of people die unceremoniously. Don't take it too seriously.

The first few pages sets up that that 15 years have seriously passed. People are dead and retired, some have kids that look exactly like them, the never aging kids grew up. The Shi'Ar are killing X-Men, like a lot of them, except they're doing it in disguise. Jean Grey has returned as the Phoenix and is hanging out with (kidnapped him while he was doing Letterman lol) Nightcrawler, Carol Danvers' hologram, and Aliyah - the child of Bishop and Deathbird.

Here she is going for an expository jog down memory lane.

We spend a little time getting to know her, as she's the closest thing to a viewpoint character. She's inexperienced and way out of her depth, but her heroic instincts are sharp. Interestingly she 'doesn't really care about the Shi'Ar.' Aliyah lives on the Starjammer with a pretty impressive holodeck, she's never met her dad, her mum is holding the Shi'Ar empire together and her best mate is holo Danvers. Lilandra is apparently 'mad.'

Immediately Kree slavers approach Chandilar and Claremont begins clearing the board. Madrox and Siryn die for real, Nocturne is a hound and Aliyah manages to knock her out and take her to the ship. Phoenix comes out of nowhere and begins wrecking shit and the Kree do the same.

Also, WarSkrulls.

If it sounds like confusing nonsense, that's because it is. The first third of the miniseries is about establishing Aliyah and checking in on various X-Men before killing most of them. Seriously, it's easier for me to list who lives rather than who dies. It's confusing but I think it works as front loading the deaths so books 2 and 3 have a more manageable cast of characters. If you plan to stick the landing, it's going to be easier to trim the decades of bloat/worldbuilding the X-books have received.

We get a brief overview of Earth stuff before they start to die, though everyone in these panels lives (mostly hehe). Kitty Pryde is running for president with Rachel as her campaign manager! Storm and Logan live together and he's her full time caretaker. Emma and Scott have two kids. Cable hunts terrorists apparently.

Here's the Summerses. A lot of people wear speed dealer sunnies in the future, with Cyclops even saying SPEED right there. Coincidence? Also their children are boring.

You'll note the daughter may as well be a clone of Emma (she isn't but you know what I mean.) The baby is called Alex after long dead Havok, definitely tempting fate there. I'd sooner call my child Omega Red, but I'm not a parent. Chuck pokes his big bald head in and Emma tells him to beat it. Scott checks in with folks all over the globe, many of whom die. He is concerned of course.

Told you. Rogue and Gambit live and they definitely saw The Matrix. This isn't plot relevant - this is just how they roll apparently.

Hank and Cecilia McCoy live and they do *something* in Africa. Doctor stuff I think? This book moves so damn quickly. They live but everyone around them dies. Hank is right about the mutant problem. The named X-Men body count is at 18 by book 3.

Hey Yukio! Come to homoerotically kill Ororo, huh? DW, she wins despite full paralysis. Don't fuck with Storm. At this point we find out ALL these assassins are WarSkrulls sent by the Shi'Ar. Storm's powers have wrecked her body btw to the point Logan feeds her and she kinda wants to die. 😭

Madeline Pryor, Stryfe, and some weirdo I don't know come for the X-Mansion. Dust dusts Maddie Pryor. That dude getting punched by Not!Stryfe is the son of Colossus and Polaris. Yeah he looks exactly like Colossus. Nice to get confirmation of Polaris' awful taste in men. She does have a dope butch short hair look that slaps, so it's not all bad choices and emotionally stunted communists.

Nearly everyone else not pictured is dead as a doornail, ash and bone at best. Claremont was pretty damn thorough - 90% of the X-Men and their allies dead. Apocalypse bit the dust too, in a pretty embarrassing way. Of course Sinister lives because he's working with the Shi'Ar but has his own agenda, as usual. They're starting to realise that the Shi'Ar sent the WarSkrulls, but the preemptive strikes were super effective. Book 1 ends on the Starjammer with the passengers realising Cassandra Nova has been Lilandra all this time.

I'm sorry, CHUCKY sends me. No cap. I could write an essay on this panel and invite speculation.

The last page has the Xavier Institute's singularity power core exploding after that lot end up also being WarSkrulls sent by the Shi'Ar - looks like having the school be built mostly from Shi'Ar tech backfired. The school is definitely gone - along with at least the state of New York but I suspect much more - then a smash cut to this masterpiece. Callisto with fucking tentacles for arms saying 'Chucky?' as Chuck is overwhelmed by grief. I'm assuming they're in a polycule with Mags over here, but it must gall him to be the third most dramatic person in a scene. It's just too much to respond without some kind of levity, but if it wasn't clear by now - the stage is being cleared ruthlessly. Northstar was at the school, so maybe some people survived but Claremont is not half arsing it. This is definitely a whole arse situation, maybe even more.

DUN DUN DUN 🫠

Wait what? Chuck's evil twin, the Mummudrai? Hectic! So we know we've just seen Cassandra Nova send many WarSkrull strike teams after X-Men in the form of people that will hurt them psychologically and it was very successful. Hmm... it's 15 years in the future - does that mean she's been leading Bird Gang this whole time? No Xandra in this timeline but the X-Men interact with the Shi'Ar a lot. That's some wild patience for Cassandra Nova, and the notion that she's been preparing all this time is terrifying. My God, all the X-Men are going to die aren't they? Maybe, though I can't stop thinking about how Lilandra Nova would have handled a booty call from Chucky. Ughh gross.

I think it's worth saying that the high amount of action is a YMMV sitch - I personally can do without no punching at all in a book, and get frustrated when a mandated and arbitrary fight happens just because that's what cape comics do. Just because action has to be special to wow me doesn't mean I don't recognise its value, mainly I believe we can demand more from our comics - as an evolved art form instead of the pulp it began as. What I said earlier about front loading the death applies to the action too. I suspect your enjoyment of this book will come down to your feelings on action or ability to appreciate it ironically/unseriously.

I'll leave part one there, though I want to point out that Sunspot is whitewashed so badly he looks like Shawn Mullins. At least he dies - I love Bobby Da Costa but I'd prefer no Sunspot to dorky white guy Sunspot. Stay tuned for part 2 and thank fuck that's over. Spinning a coherent narrative from a book without one is a challenge, especially with only 10 pictures to work with. I considered counting and listing all the deaths, but I got to 30 and realised I wasn't enjoying it and doubted anyone else would. I'm not a wiki, and hopefully I've done my job while leaving some meat on the bones for folks who still want to read it. Don't worry, Kitty's presidential run is still live and it's implied she won the primaries. Independent? As if. Definitely a democrat, because the X-Men are mostly centrist bitches. Still, I hope she wins and First Lady Rachel and her achieve something.

I haven't been doing much long form lately so I welcome any feedback you might have. 💜💜❤️

[thoughtdaughterdisease]

hi i’m foaming at the mouth of your price headcanons

screaming crying throwing up all the works PLEASE i need more of that man

Home.

a/n: aww thank you so much!! i've been in active for a month maybe and i didn't see this until now! I'm working on a couple different things, but i'm having a bit of slump so if you want to request specific one shots or ideas you have, i'll gladly write them!!!

--

civilian!reader who has always waited for Price to come home. you've never gone to bed without him; unless he was overseas and you had known previously.

civilian!reader who waits for price to get home, laying on the couch watching their favorite show.

civilian!reader who starts to get worried when it's 15 minutes after he said he'd be home and there's still no sign of him.

civilian!reader who worries that maybe something happened to him on a assignment, or maybe something happened to him on his way home.

civilian!reader who calls him only for him not to pick up, so she texts him instead. Though ten minutes later, still nothing.

price who's phone died while he was on a mission, and soap wouldn't spare him a charger on the jet.

price who knows that you never want to go to bed without him, who knows that you've probably already started getting tired and he doesn't want to make you stay up any longer than you can handle, he knows you need good sleep babygirl, or you'll be sleeping with your eyes open, totally checked out, for the next couple of days.

price who immediately forgoes any paper work or rituals he would abide by once he gets off the jet; he immediately speed walks to his car from the base (go easy on him, he's too old to be sprinting to his car).

price who can't even try to plug in his phone in his car to try and text his baby to let you know he's coming home and he's okay; because he drives such a shit box of a car.

price who may or may not have a run a few red lights to get to you. mostly because he knows you must be worried but also because he just wants to feel your arms around him. your soft body and voice soothing him is the exact thing that could make his tense muscles relax.

price who opens your and his apartment door to stagnant air and the quiet drone of your tv show.

price who finds you zonked out on the couch, phone resting next to your hand that's tucked underneath your chin. he swears he's never been more attracted to you in that moment, you looked so fragile, curled in a ball, obviously waiting for price to come home to you so you can truly rest after being tired and worried for your johnny.

price who kneels down beside you, who cups your face, who doesn't mean to wake you up but does accidentally.

"why are you up so late, baby bear?"

"'s waiting for you. you didn't answer any of my calls. :("

"i know, im sorry, babygirl. my phone died a hour ago."

civilian!reader that as soon as you know price is safe and sound, your eyelids start to droop again. your small hand clutches as his forearm, willing him to not let you go.

price who take notice and decides that you've been up long enough, so he takes the liberty of scooping you up of the couch, he may be old but not too old to take care of you properly.

price who tucks you into bed before shucking his uniform and boots to wrap himself around you. you let out a sigh of content and drift away knowing that your johnny is safe in your arms.

i tried my best, i hope this is good

[t0bester]

My friend and I got really high last night and wrote this insane fan fiction about Patton accidentally eating Virgil’s forever weed brownie and it’s the most insane shit my brain has ever come up with. So anyways this is which part of said fic I assign you based on your birth month.

January: Armin from Attack on Titan showing up out of nowhere explaining that he’s not a girl. Patton yells out “Hey there Amen!” (As in what you would say after a prayer) and then dies

February: the writing style changing mid way through. Like it goes from normal writing, then I started writing like it was a script, then I went back to normal at the end

March: the end note being “did you like it?” and nothing else

April: Roman calling Dream (as in the MCYT) a wench, then killing him

May: Virgil almost being late for the fan fiction

June: at one point I referred to Virgil as Patton’s “Purple Menace”

July: Patton getting high and “rolling around like a crab”. Crabs do not roll idfk where I came up with this

August: the entirety of this specific paragraph: “OH NO!" Virgil screamed, running past Roman like the dramatic ass bitch he is. "MY FOREVER WEED BROWNIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!DX" "Your WHAT?" Logan screamed."YOUR WHaaaaaaaaaAT?????" "you heard me..... I know you did....." Virgil turned away with a dramatic hand over his forehead. Auther doesnt hate Virgil this shit is just so funny. Soz.

September: Logan and Janus having beef. I later explain that they are not in a poly relationship with Patton, I just can’t decide which ship I like more.

October: Dream being summoned by Heatwaves by Glass Animals

November: Virgil singing Ballet of Mona Lisa by P!ATD, but I make sure everyone knows that it sounds terrible over Heatwaves

December: At the end it’s revealed that Patton isn’t dead, but they accidentally buried him alive with Dream so now he’s stuck having to listen to Dream explain how he didn’t cheat in his speed runs for all of eternity and he cries a little bit because of it

[dappledpaintbrush]

Full honest options on dimentio?

Looks at you like this

Autistic Answer: OHH YM GODODDODHRKEJTJTKTJR LAYS FLAT ON MY BSCK ON A HIGHWAY HESSOOO FUCKINGGNCOOOOOL RUNS FULL SPEED AT A. BRICK WALL AND JUMPS THROUGH LEAVING A CLOUD OF DUST AND A SHAPE OF MYSELF IN THE WALL IN MY WAKE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HES SO INTERESTING AND LOSER PILLED I NEED HIM EMBROIDERED ON MY ARM

Autistic Answer:

Okay so at the start of my spm special interest when I was a tiny little googoogaga baby (seven years old) Dimentio was just. This guy. Evil and shit but just a guy. But he was MY guy. I don’t remember beating the game that young. I seriously think I gave up on the yold desert puzzle and just binged koopakungfu let’s plays over and over again but regardless I remember the aftermath and GODDDDDDDDDD I was so indescribably enamored with this Thing . it was REVOLTING.

Now as a near 19 year old I can’t think about him or the game in general without having to stop drop and roll but at the end of the day, Dimentio is still just some guy. But in the morning and the afternoon he’s a fucking idiot. Like you absolute goofiest of goobers, all you had to do was teleport the heroes to Dimension D and wait everything out. That shit is why he’s currently burning in hell. Not for mass murder or being annoying but for the stupidest plan I have ever heard in my entire life. He is also one of the most intriguing characters ever made in the Mario franchise.

Like okay. You are given this purple and yellow triangular smudge on your screen and you go “hmm… (scratches chin) something is Wrong With This Animal. It Might be Sick.” And of course he ends up betraying the sympathetic tragic villain Bleckie Bear and dies (thank GOD) whatever credits roll NO!!!!

FIRST. This guy tells you Bleck has lied about creating new worlds. That is . THAT IS!!! Now he could be lying but he could also NOT be. After all, what other motivation would he have for betraying Bleck? All the worlds to himself perhaps …………………. That’s the thing. You don’t know . That’s this entire character.

You

DONT.

KNOW.

Anything he says and anything about him is either a blatant lie, COULD be a lie, COULD be the truth, or is vague 3,000 year old information given from this dude in a bar that may or may not even be about Dimentio. He is LITERALLY wearing a mask. A TWO FACED MASK might I add.

Nintendo doesn’t lay out his story for you on screen like they do with Bleck. If you don’t take the time to explore, Dimentio will never be more than Bleck’s silly and funny-talking minion who betrayed him out of greed or.. whatever reason. Because he didn’t say it. No no- You have to go out of your way to investigate and pay money and put pieces of this puzzle together to find out that hurt people hurt people (🤓)

He could be some random bloke. He could the descendant of this sad unnamed character and somehow “never found happiness” whatever THAT means. He could be THE sad unnamed character that went through an accident so devastating that it left his mother dead and it left everyone believing HE was dead. This accident, whatever it was, was so horrifying that Dimentio, who can teleport across dimensions, was unable (by choice or not) to find and tell his remaining family he was alive. After his “death”, his sister would die as well. Their father, likely going insane with unimaginable grief, would rip her soul from the afterlife just to keep his only child- the only family he had left- with him, oblivious to the fact that somewhere, his son was still alive. This little girl, now forever trapped as a Pixl, would become so angry at what her father had done that she would start a war and slaughter ANYONE that tried to get in her way. The Pixl Queen- this angry, scared, and confused child- would lose once more. She would be destroyed. All she is now is a shadow of her former self. And that’s what she would reform as in the pits below an Ancient city, where, at the hands of our heroes, she would lose AGAIN. Dimentio could be oblivious to all of this. He could know a fraction of it. He could know all of it. He could hold no guilt. He could blame himself for what had happened to her, for he had been gone all those years- whatever that means.

He could want to destroy everyone and everything out of personal gain- to recreate them all in his image and rule them as he sees fit all because he is a greedy narcissist. He could want to destroy everyone and everything because, like Blumiere, he sees no point in anything after losing all he loved in all worlds. Maybe he betrayed Blumiere because Dimentio wanted to rule a timeline that goes his way and ONLY his way. Maybe “his way” is where he gets all he wanted in riches, in wealth, in a population that essentially worships him, and so on. After all, he does say that he wants to be king of all worlds. Maybe that isn’t everything he wants. After all, he doesn’t just wipe out everyone in all dimensions and create mindless followers using the Dark Prognosticus that is capable of doing that exact thing. No. Like Blumiere, Dimentio, too, wants the worlds gone. Erased. All of them. The worlds that caused that accident. killed his mom. “killed” him. killed his sister. And in these self-described and self-created perfect new worlds, his timeline, his way, where he can create anything and anyone he wants- maybe he isn’t alone anymore. Whatever that means.

In my full honest opinion, I think he is SO .FUCKING. COOL.

[elektrischemaidchen]

Lisztober #11: Symphonie Fantastique

Madness has taken hold at the Maidchen court. What always comes across as so easy here, is a real challenge, which unfortunately also takes its toll. I now have a real coffee problem by now, so I sometimes have heart palpitations at night. Then there's the incredible time pressure to present you with something cool that has to be ready in less than 24 hours.

If anyone asks why we're sitting in a three-person cell in a asylum by November, tell them it's because of absinthe, reading too much Lautréamont and hysteria. Please.

And that brings us right back to today's topic. Yesterday we escalated. Really. So much so that one girl is hoarse and the other is on the verge of tinnitus. Additionaly, one of our speakers died due to the volume and overdrive. Here you can listen a true masterpiece by Maidchen standards. We had to stop in between, because of laughing over and over, again and again. Both while writing and during the recording itself. Even while cutting. And even more so when the neighbor simply started practicing the tuba for unknown reasons. I didn't even know he had a tuba. It must be new. Totally surreal. But luckily, he didn't call the police on us. And you wouldn't believe how many takes we “indulged” in. (There were 26. 26!) I hope we can convey these moments of pure joy. PLEASE LISTEN TO THE WHOLE SONG TO GET THE VIBE! ;)

The reason for this was our contribution for today, Berlioz “Symphonie Fantastique” aka probably the creepiest piece of classical music that has ever existed. And thank you so much, @franzliszt-official for giving us this opportunity.

So, here’s our plot summary:

We really always wanted to write something about this masterpiece of brainf***, but unfortunately we didn't have the right idea - and you see: With a gun to your head, even the muse must speed up. Let’s see how far we can go with this. The plot of the symphony - just like the story before and after it - is so obscure that it has become a kind of running gag for us. Life (and art) can't write better stories. Never ever. And before I tell you the whole story, if you don't know it yet: there's a wonderful YouTube video with a short summary that I highly recommend you watch (the whole channel is amazing!!!). WTF, Berlioz, really, WTF.

Oh well, it's still about Liszt. Liszt was a huge fan (Really, Franz. I love you, but why? WHY?) of this symphony, just like Wagner (but nobody here give a shit about Richard‘s opinion anyway)  Franz may not have been directly involved in the creation of the “Symphonie Fantastique”, but his piano transcription and his interpretations made a significant contribution to this work becoming one of the most important works of Romantic music. Liszt made it accessible to a wider audience, interpreted it and developed it further, thus having a lasting influence on music history.

That's why we originally wanted to deal with the “Dies Irae” theme, but let's be honest… everything stinks against the main story.

And then there is the “Idée fixe”, the central theme of Berlioz's symphony, the beloved, who appears again and again musically as a motif and ultimately drives him mad. You could also apply this to the Maidchen. Fun fact: 97% of all our lyrics have a hidden hint to Franz. Sometimes so well that Lacelove doesn't even notice ;) Whoever finds them all: Get in touch. You'll get an exclusive shirt and your own song written. I promise.

Oh, dearest, dearest love, you surely will never know that I’m gonna write to you A symphony of love  in just one night Oh, dearest, dearest love, I only dream of you and in my longing I wish you were here Oh, dearest, dearest love, Where have you gone? You dance with a hundred others You erase me from your mind Oh, dearest, dearest love, Fate is not fair My sky, full of violins But my heart, it's so heavy So heavy I try to forget you On noble pastures The shepherds who soothed me Make their songs known But then I see you before me With a smile like a sword You belong to someone else now You're...not worth it That's why I'm whistling opium now And will just kill you. DIEEEE! DIIEEEEE! OH GOD! JUST DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE God alone knows, I will be judged for everything I have done and none of the heavenly angels will weep at my grave And so I see your face One last time before my face Oh, dearest, dearest love Why don't you save me? Oh, dearest, dearest love then it comes back to me You spawn of hell You are the queen of the witches. ORGIES! DAMN ORGIEEEEEEES! OH GOD! ORRRRRGIIIIIESSSS! Oh, dearest, dearest dearest, will you be angry with me? I invite you on the day of the premiere To find out Oh, dearest, dearest love then you'll be my wife Otherwise I'll threaten you with my own s*i*ide You know that very well IF YOU DON'T MARRY ME, I'LL K*** MYSELF! I'LL K**** MYSELF! AND IT'S YOUR FAULT!!!!! YAAAAAAAAA! And then, she actually married him.

[byfulcrums]

So my brain basically functions only because of angst so I made some kind of AU??? about what could happen with Nuwa if she appears and stuff

I've always liked body horror and all that dark stuff so there's gonna be some of it here! It's not very explicit though. Just some small things that might point to it happening

So. It starts with Nuwa finding MK!! Or MK finding Nuwa first idk. Nuwa starts to like MK (PLATONIC) and MK really loves hanging out with Nuwa! So everything is great. They're some kind of friends or at least allies

However, Nuwa is still, well, a god, and MK is a mortal (as far as she knows at least). She may like him, but she can't care for him the way a mother would care for a child. She doesn't even know she's technically his mother yet!

So shit happens, blablabla, and Nuwa finds out MK is the little stone monkey she carved all those years ago. She gets very excited to see that her attempt at creating such a powerful lifeform like SWK actually worked and immediately goes to tell MK, who has some very mixed feelings about this

Eventually MK starts to sort out his feelings on all this and wants to have some mom and son bonding time! Just to see what'd it be like. Nuwa of course accepts, saying that she'd love to run some tests on him to see how alive he is and how stone he is. Nothing bad yet! Things are great!

So Sun Wukong finds out while MK is gone w Nuwa. He freaks out because "ohh shit why why why not AGAIN--" and speeds off to her lab or whatever she has to find her and MK. Turns out they're not there, but what is there are some very disgusting attempts at creating some kind of Monkey King clones?

So of course, Sun Wukong is disgusted. And also mildly traumatizing because there is a lot of beings who look so much like him and are literally mutilated. They have blobs all over their bodies and what they are is clear: failed attempts at creating a being as powerful as he is

He goes to explore a bit (ignoring how disgusting the whole scene is, because nope he is not dealing with the emotions this brings right now, MK needs help and he's gonna get it!) and finds some other failed attempts at life! Except that this time, they're not him. They're MK

Now, they don't all look that much like MK. Some of them are just broken stones and unhatched eggs. But the similarities are very obvious and easy to see and SWK does not like that

So basically, to summarize, Nuwa was going crazy while trying to find a way to create a weapon as strong as the Sage himself. There were many failed attempts (she first started by trying to make actual clones, then continued by making stone eggs which melted very painfully when they were born) but eventually, she finds a way

Nuwa realices that cloning the Monkey King won't work, but that maybe, just maybe, if she made something similar to him, it'd come to life safely. So instead of trying to create a second Monkey King, she decided to make some kind of weird sibling for him

MK wasn't the perfect being she wanted (that was obvious because while the egg she made was stable, it wasn't radiating the power Monkey King has), but he was the closest she got to creating actual life, so even if she decided to let him live, he was thrown out and ended up in FFM. Nuwa doesn't check on him because he's not the one she wanted. Or maybe she accidentally threw him out by idk, kicking him or smth and straight up didn't know he exists

So now MK has to deal with knowing that he's just a failed experiment and that he has thousands of siblings who didn't make it and died in painful and horrible ways. Hooray!

[spinningbuster98]

I sometimes see people give Samus Returns and Dread shit for being too action oriented than actual Metroid games, as they’re too linear and rely too heavily on their combat mechanics.

And to be fair, that is a legitimate criticism to make, but that’s not my issue. What bothers me is that I often see said people then turn around and say “unlike past games”, which usually includes Fusion and....

shouldn’t Fusion be the first game to be thrown into the garbage bin in that case?

I love Fusion don’t get me wrong, and it’s entirely possible to like it over Dread or viceversa as they’re certainly not the same, but Dread absolutely takes plenty of design elements from the game, to the point that most of the things people complain about with Dread originated from that game

A more linear structure that aggressively funnels you in a direction, preventing backtracking by blocking the path you used to get into a room? Check

A gimped wall jump? Check

A strict order you have to get items in? Well Dread actually allows for some sequence breaking here and there so that’s actually a point in its favor

A greater emphasis on action elements to supplement the more limited exploration? Surprisingly also check!

Because yes, the greater focus on action over sheer exploration is not something that started when Mercurysteam came on board, it’s not something that started with Other M, it started all the way back in Fusion

Just think about Samus’ movement and how it’s used

In Super Metroid Samus is very floaty, and has a run button allowing you to have greater control over your speed and momentum when jumping. This, alongside stuff like the wall jump, allowed you to traverse the world in unique and inventive ways. On the flipside her rate of fire is very low, even lower than previous games’, her movement isn’t very snappy, you have to cycle through items with a button etc

Fighting enemies in SM is usually a non-event, most of them can be dispatched in a shot or two and don’t require much effort. Bosses can be irritating because Samus’ floatiness, while great for world traversal, is not ideal for dodging attacks, meaning that boss fights usually amount to little more than wars of attrition: you can’t dodge reliably often and so have to tank hits and hope the boss dies before you do. Phantoon is my favorite example

In general Super’s movement is very exploration-centric, but not ideal for combat

Fusion is the opposite

You have one static speed and the floatiness is gone, along with the infinite wall jump and all sequence breaking tools, meaning that, for thye most part, the exploratory aspects of Samus’ movement have been stripped down

On the other hand she is much easier to control, her movement is far snappier, you don’t have to cycle through items, Super Missiles replace normal ones, your Charge Beam is not only more powerful but also charges faster, your rate of fire is far faster etc

And you know how Fusion uses this new movement style?

By placing a greater emphasis on fighting enemies

While in Super enemies were generally a bother, in Fusion enemies are more aggressive, they take more hits, there are more enemies that need to be dispatched with missiles, and they hurt way more. If you approach enemies in Fusion the way you did in Super you will die. But it’s no biggie, because Fusion’s snappier movement allows you to attack enemies and dodge them much more reliably. This is particularily noticable with bosses. You can’t just tank hits here, you gotta memorize attacks and dodge them and know when and how to go on the offensive, you can’t fight Yakuza and BOX round 2 the same way you did Phantoon or Draygon. Bosses hit harder, have more attacks, even more phases often, and there are more of them in general!

Essentially Fusion’s movement sacrifices exploratory elements in favor of making the game’s action flow much better, and the game knows this because it ramps up said action when compared to the previous game

Yeah sure Fusion may not have a counter mechanic or cool cinematics to show you how badass Samus is, but the general gameplay loop of mostly following a linear path the game lays out for you while fighting tough enemies that require you to stay on your toes is fundementally the same, it’s just more explicit in games like Dread (hell even Prime 3 did more or less the same thing)

[gay-trashcan-cat]

Heya pals!!!😃😁 I jwust discovered a new and wevowutionary way to make pasta!!! wags fake tail aggressively at the speed of sound shit flies out of hole and is propelled in the air everywhere by the tail wags staining the wall behind a dark greenish-brown I CAN'T WAIT TO SHOW Y'ALL!!!! Owo uWu Howls so loud in excitement and blows out all the windows and kills all of the closest passerbys😊😊😊 Instwead of using boring and smwelly overpriced old spaghetti that we have to buy at a crummy store, we could use the free products that come from within us… TAPEWORMS!!!!!!!! OWo >W< Or any other booty worms are just fine too!🤤😊🤤

It's very simple, eat some uncooked meat like pork and wait awhile! :p ^o^ Once you start feeling itchy n scritchy and your waist line is slimmer you'll know it's ready! my "chocolate milkshake brings all the boys to the yard😊"~ Once your little wormy is ripe and ready, drink some pepto bismol and some dewormers! You can flavor the pepto bismol with some blended up cockroaches to improve it's taste!!! It's SOO good trust me uwu!!!!!! tee hee heesnort~ ^W^

Once it's finally out you may have to pull it all the way out manually or have a friend help you teamwork makes the dreamwork!🥰 just strain it from the diahrrea save the diahrrea for later! and place it aside! See how long plump and plentiful it is 😍😍😍 Twake your time to run your fwingers through your new beatiful creation, feel the slime trickiling through your fingers and admire it… Next cut it up into how long you'd like, you may also notice chwunks of poop and corn stuck to them It's SOOOO YUMMY Uwu 🤤, those will be the meatballs!!!

OOOOOH and make sure not to cook your little booty worms as to not kill them so they can live again and you can have free fwesh pasta! It would SUCK if they all died >~< cries and has explosive diahrrea on motheroh sorry uwu tee hee~ oh gee golly gosh~ Get the diahrrea from earlier and boil it down a bit since it'll be watery from the toilet and cook it down slightly until your preferred consistency! Howls and licks out extra from the toilet like a cat licking churu Now pour it on your tapeworms and poopy corn balls!

Be sure to eat onions before the clean out if you want any bits of onions in your sauce! Popcorn if you want any kernel shells for added texture. If you're lucky and have pin worms you can use them as parmesan and sprinkle them on top of your dish! If you don't have any pin worms on hand scratching off some dandruff onto the food has the same effect! pants and helocopter farts in nearby cat's face One last thing you can add is a sprinkle of pee pee poo poo dust as just a little enhancer!☺️Tee hee~ Bone apple feet!

not the salt mines 😥

(referring to this post )

[fireemblems24]

Golden Wildfire Ch 8

Spoilers for GW up to Ch 8 below.

STORY

Shahid may as well have been called "plot tool" lol.

Are Claude and Edelgard going to make some kind of Alliance now? I hope he's not stupid about it.

Claude's like maybe attacking the larger, richer country with more soldiers and resources wasn't a good idea, lamo. As much as I loved punching the Empire for once rather than just always fighting defensively, Claude really picked up the stupid stick.

It hurts every time I see Judith.

Man, I don't like how they retconned Gloucester. He's getting treated like a saint now. It's so weird. I feel like they softened up a lot of people, and I'm not sure i like it.

Haha, at least he called the Empire foolish for starting a two-front war.

CAMP

Oh, wow, no side missions. I have two paralogues unlocked though, so I'll probably do those.

Honestly, I'm a bit relieved. These levels take forever and I'm not even putting time into plotting builds or anything. I def want to replay AG one day where I put more time into just building out all my favs.

Honestly, part of me is tempted to drop AG and speed run SB and GW (which are both really boring so far, sorry) so that way I can just blow through them and take my time with AG, but I can't imagine not going back to AG to keep me going lol.

I'll just do an indulgent, S-Rank everything, unlock all the everything AG type run later.

MARIANNE & BERNADETTA B SUPPORT

Not who I would've picked to support Marianne, but I can see it.

Yep, this is as awkward as you would've guessed with neither sure what to say and lots of just "..." and "ums."

Bernie finally breaks the silence talking about pretty bugs. Marianne is into the conversation since she's a Disney princess animal lover. And Bernie just like creepy things.

Then it dies. And Marianne struggles to find another topic and talks about the sunrise.

In the end they had a successful conversation. Since I support Marianne having friends, I support this.

LORENZ & BALTHUS C SUPPORT

So why does Balthus get a support with Lorenz, but not Hilda?

Balthus asked Lorenz about a Claude investigation, but Lorenz doesn't know much about it.

Lorenz thinks Balthus' father is behind the questions. Balthus is doing it for money, unsurprisingly.

Lorenz puts down Balthus as a corrupt commoner, but Balthus is secretly a commoner, which doesn't surprise me since Hilda and Holst are his buddies.

Lamo, Balthus said Lorenz says whatever just pops into his head. Doesn't sound like a compliment.

BALTHUS, HOLST, & HILDA PARALOGUE

I'm using two of the three, so this shouldn't be too bad. I can make Balthus an adjunct.

Balthus is hiding from someone, then turns around and asks Hilda and Shez for money. Hilda encourages him to pay them back. Then Balthus leaves.

Holst arrives and bothers Shez about bothering Hilda. Then they catch him up about Balthus.

Balthus sounds like an absolute nightmare and asshole of a person, ngl. He steals from people, fights, and drinks. Hilda and Holst can do better.

Oh, shit. The goal is to rescue Balthus, so I can't just rescue him? But the Golden Deer are basically broke, so IDK if I can level him up enough to survive.

So his stepmother sent assassins after him because she wants her younger son to lead instead. Honestly, don't blame her for that last half, but big yikes.

Ok, that wasn't too bad since I got to control Balthus pretty quickly.

Balthus seem wholly unbothered by his step-mother trying to kill him. He talks about it like she's throwing a tantrum, lol.

Did Balthus' real mom raise Shez?

LEONIE & SHAMIR PARALOGUE

Welp, they didn't get a support this time, but they got this at least. Feels bad Shamir didn't get one with Cyril, but I don't think the poor dude is even playable this time around.

Shamir is trying to pull a mysterious vanishing act and Shez can guess what she's up too including romantic rendezvous, fighting, or drinking. See, this is why Catherine and Shamir are meant for each other.

Ohhh, Shamir is breaking up with someone.

Not a former lover, though. A noble who has an infatuation with her and is threatening her if she doesn't come back. Shamir plans on just dealing with it herself.

Lamo, Shamir doesn't mind killing them.

Leonie is leveled up, but not Shamir, so Leonie will just tout her around.

Shamir burned the captain bad - "You're still alive. I guess it's true only the good die young." Like, damn, woman.

They sent a whole army against Shamir lol.

Cool to see three mercenary women all talking mercenary stuff.

Wait, WHAT? A WOMAN is the one after Shamir. Go off, Fire Emblem.

Leonie, my sweet summer child, has no idea what Shamir was alluding to. That's Caspar/Hilda support levels of naive, except Leonie's older lamo.

MAIN BATTLE/STORY

Short chapter this time around, which is nice. I saw it's the same for Scarlet Blaze in chapter 9. I'm assuming Azure Gleam will get a chapter like this too, except that time I'll be bummed.

Shahid has no personality outside of bloodthirsty idiot.

So Shahid has no clue that Claude is in the army he's attacking. So Edelgard is the only one the writers don't make kill their own family. Claude and Dimitri are just built for angst.

Yep, here's a cut scene where poor Claude gets to kill family now. He should've just let Shez do it. Cool cut scene though.

Claude thought he wouldn't feel bad about it, but he does. That's just being human, Claude.

Lorenz is like a whole ass 10 levels ahead of everyone else. Dude is a monster in this game.

Will the Golden Deer actually learn Claude is from Almyra this time? Claude lied again, saying he just went there for political stuff and that's why he meant Nader. Ah, well, maybe later on.

Shahid really was just a plot tool in the end. He had no personality and was just the evil prince from Almyra that makes it easy to wrap that up with a nice bow.

Lamo, Raphael gets closer to figuring it out about Claude than anyone else. Perfect.

Arval is like ugh, why are they celebrating? There's still a war going on. Arval is a party pooper, confirmed.

Claude feeling bad because he killed Shahid, which would have more weight if Shahid was an actual character.

Arval doesn't trust Claude, but I swear if I hear the word "scheme" in a Claude route one more time, I'm going to scream.

xxx

[kkolg]

Heya pals!!!😃😁 I jwust discovered a new and wevowutionary way to make pasta!!! wags fake tail aggressively at the speed of sound shit flies out of hole and is propelled in the air everywhere by the tail wags staining the wall behind a dark greenish-brown I CAN'T WAIT TO SHOW Y'ALL!!!! Owo uWu Howls so loud in excitement and blows out all the windows and kills all of the closest passerbys😊😊😊 Instwead of using boring and smwelly overpriced old spaghetti that we have to buy at a crummy store, we could use the free products that come from within us… TAPEWORMS!!!!!!!! OWo >W< Or any other booty worms are just fine too!🤤😊🤤

It's very simple, eat some uncooked meat like pork and wait awhile! :p ^o^ Once you start feeling itchy n scritchy and your waist line is slimmer you'll know it's ready! my "chocolate milkshake brings all the boys to the yard😊"~ Once your little wormy is ripe and ready, drink some pepto bismol and some dewormers! You can flavor the pepto bismol with some blended up cockroaches to improve it's taste!!! It's SOO good trust me uwu!!!!!! tee hee heesnort~ ^W^

Once it's finally out you may have to pull it all the way out manually or have a friend help you teamwork makes the dreamwork!🥰 just strain it from the diahrrea save the diahrrea for later! and place it aside! See how long plump and plentiful it is 😍😍😍 Twake your time to run your fwingers through your new beatiful creation, feel the slime trickiling through your fingers and admire it… Next cut it up into how long you'd like, you may also notice chwunks of poop and corn stuck to them It's SOOOO YUMMY Uwu 🤤, those will be the meatballs!!!

OOOOOH and make sure not to cook your little booty worms as to not kill them so they can live again and you can have free fwesh pasta! It would SUCK if they all died >~< cries and has explosive diahrrea on motheroh sorry uwu tee hee~ oh gee golly gosh~ Get the diahrrea from earlier and boil it down a bit since it'll be watery from the toilet and cook it down slightly until your preferred consistency! Howls and licks out extra from the toilet like a cat licking churu Now pour it on your tapeworms and poopy corn balls!

Be sure to eat onions before the clean out if you want any bits of onions in your sauce! Popcorn if you want any kernel shells for added texture. If you're lucky and have pin worms you can use them as parmesan and sprinkle them on top of your dish! If you don't have any pin worms on hand scratching off some dandruff onto the food has the same effect! pants and helocopter farts in nearby cat's face One last thing you can add is a sprinkle of pee pee poo poo dust as just a little enhancer!☺️Tee hee~ Bone apple feet!

I know what I said about these asks but I’m pretty sure you’re the same furry anon so you get a pass

[school-sanctioned-movie-bullying]

If the Fonz Could Jump Over a Shark With Jet Skis Then So Can I

So, The Flash didn’t end up being a very good show, but does that mean every long-running TV show is doomed to turn into crap? To answer my own question, no, it does not. Shows like The Simpsons or South Park have over twenty seasons each, and they are still going strong-ish. The reason that these shows were and are still able to continue running is continuity, or rather, a lack thereof. 

 Certain genres are able to get away with a lack of continuity between episodes, namely comedies. Comedies don’t have to introduce any season-long conflicts like most dramas do; most story arcs are contained to an episode or two. Animated comedies, in particular, tend to run for an obscenely long time because they don’t have to bother with continuity at all. It does not matter if Bart and Lisa travel to hell or if Kenny dies again; everything will be back to normal by the start of the next episode, and another equally ridiculous scenario can take place. 

 Conversely, continuity is an integral part of the network TV drama. If a major character went to hell, died, or both, they won’t be back like nothing happened at the start of the next episode. Everything in a drama show is continuous, and after a while, everything starts to add up. 

To use The Flash as an example, there was always a big villain who would be defeated by the season’s end. In season one, Barry fought his longtime rival, the Reverse Flash. That is a good, succinct story. In season two, he fought Zoom, a serial killer with super speed. So Barry took down two big villains. Cool. In the following seasons, he also faces off against an evil clone of himself from the future, some dude with a magic knife, a guy who could turn himself into a giant blood-clot monster, and a lady who could phase through mirrors. I may have forgotten a few, probably because there were so many that they were hardly individually memorable. By the time Barry saved the world from five different supervillains, the stakes just didn’t feel very high anymore. 

 Even outside of action dramas, season-long arcs just don’t hold the same weight the more of them there are. Meredith Grey has been having shit going down in her hospital for 20 seasons on Grey’s Anatomy. You would think that a major character dying would hold a lot of weight, but pretty much every year someone gets hit by a bus or dies in a plane crash. After 15 or so deaths, they just stop being shocking. 

 Drama shows fundamentally cannot work well after so many seasons. The shock value that they rely upon to make the show interesting loses its value the more it is used. There comes a point when the stakes cannot plausibly be raised any higher, and that is when the show should end. Unfortunately, most shows don’t end at that point. 

 Many people agree that Happy Days probably should have ended after Arthur Fonzarelli jumped over a shark with water skis. It was ridiculous and stupid, and it marked a decline in the show's quality, but despite that, Happy Days went on to have another six seasons. When a show jumps the shark, like Fonzi did, it has officially overstayed its welcome. The longer it is stretched out after that, the worse it gets. So now I am going to do what so many network dramas should do: cut myself off. This post is officially over. Goodbye.

So, The Flash didn’t end up being a very good show, but does that mean every long-running TV show is doomed to turn into crap? To answer my own question, no, it does not. Shows like The Simpsons or South Park have over twenty seasons each, and they are still going strong-ish. The reason that these shows were and are still able to continue running is continuity, or rather, a lack thereof. 

 Certain genres are able to get away with a lack of continuity between episodes, namely comedies. Comedies don’t have to introduce any season-long conflicts like most dramas do; most story arcs are contained to an episode or two. Animated comedies, in particular, tend to run for an obscenely long time because they don’t have to bother with continuity at all. It does not matter if Bart and Lisa travel to hell or if Kenny dies again; everything will be back to normal by the start of the next episode, and another equally ridiculous scenario can take place. 

 Conversely, continuity is an integral part of the network TV drama. If a major character went to hell, died, or both, they won’t be back like nothing happened at the start of the next episode. Everything in a drama show is continuous, and after a while, everything starts to add up. 

To use The Flash as an example, there was always a big villain who would be defeated by the season’s end. In season one, Barry fought his longtime rival, the Reverse Flash. That is a good, succinct story. In season two, he fought Zoom, a serial killer with super speed. So Barry took down two big villains. Cool. In the following seasons, he also faces off against an evil clone of himself from the future, some dude with a magic knife, a guy who could turn himself into a giant blood-clot monster, and a lady who could phase through mirrors. I may have forgotten a few, probably because there were so many that they were hardly individually memorable. By the time Barry saved the world from five different supervillains, the stakes just didn’t feel very high anymore. 

 Even outside of action dramas, season-long arcs just don’t hold the same weight the more of them there are. Meredith Grey has been having shit going down in her hospital for 20 seasons on Grey’s Anatomy. You would think that a major character dying would hold a lot of weight, but pretty much every year someone gets hit by a bus or dies in a plane crash. After 15 or so deaths, they just stop being shocking. 

 Drama shows fundamentally cannot work well after so many seasons. The shock value that they rely upon to make the show interesting loses its value the more it is used. There comes a point when the stakes cannot plausibly be raised any higher, and that is when the show should end. Unfortunately, most shows don’t end at that point. 

 Many people agree that Happy Days probably should have ended after Arthur Fonzarelli jumped over a shark with water skis. It was ridiculous and stupid, and it marked a decline in the show's quality, but despite that, Happy Days went on to have another six seasons. When a show jumps the shark, like Fonzi did, it has officially overstayed its welcome. The longer it is stretched out after that, the worse it gets. So now I am going to do what so many network dramas should do: cut myself off. This post is officially over. Goodbye.So, The Flash didn’t end up being a very good show, but does that mean every long-running TV show is doomed to turn into crap? To answer my own question, no, it does not. Shows like The Simpsons or South Park have over twenty seasons each, and they are still going strong-ish. The reason that these shows are still able to continue running is continuity, or rather, a lack thereof. 

 Certain genres are able to get away with a lack of continuity between episodes, namely comedies. Comedies don’t have to introduce any season-long conflicts like most dramas do; most story arcs are contained to an episode or two. Animated comedies, in particular, tend to run for an obscenely long time because they don’t have to bother with continuity at all. It does not matter if Bart and Lisa travel to hell or if Kenny dies again; everything will be back to normal by the start of the next episode, and another equally ridiculous scenario can take place. 

 Conversely, continuity is an integral part of the network TV drama. If a major character went to hell, died, or both, they won’t be back like nothing happened at the start of the next episode. Everything in a drama show is continuous, and after a while, everything starts to add up. 

To use The Flash as an example, there was always a big villain who would be defeated by the season’s end. In season one, Barry fought his longtime rival, the Reverse Flash. That is a good, succinct story. In season two, he fought Zoom, a serial killer with super speed. So Barry took down two big villains. Cool. In the following seasons, he also faces off against an evil clone of himself from the future, some dude with a magic knife, a guy who could turn himself into a giant blood-clot monster, and a lady who could phase through mirrors. I may have forgotten a few, probably because there were so many that they were hardly individually memorable. By the time Barry saved the world from five different supervillains, the stakes just didn’t feel very high anymore. 

 Even outside of action dramas, season-long arcs just don’t hold the same weight the more of them there are. Meredith Grey has been having shit going down in her hospital for 20 seasons on Grey’s Anatomy. You would think that a major character dying would hold a lot of weight, but pretty much every year someone gets hit by a bus or dies in a plane crash. After 15 or so deaths, they just stop being shocking. 

 Drama shows fundamentally cannot work well after so many seasons. The shock value that they rely upon to make the show interesting loses its value the more it is used. There comes a point when the stakes cannot plausibly be raised any higher, and that is when the show should end. Unfortunately, most shows don’t end at that point. 

Many people agree that Happy Days probably should have ended after Arthur Fonzarelli jumped over a shark with water skis. It was ridiculous and stupid, and it marked a decline in the show's quality, but despite that, Happy Days went on to have another six seasons. When a show jumps the shark, like Fonzi did, it has officially overstayed its welcome. The longer it is stretched out after that, the worse it gets. So now I am going to do what so many network dramas should: cut myself off. This post is officially over. Goodbye.