#dm me to plot

[bacchuschucklefuck]

a totem pole of hopeful idiots

[kabr0ztrousers]

Bull hybrid cowboy x chubby fem reader. He runs a little ranch all by himself no one for miles and her car just so happens to break down near his road. He offers her a ride into town but ends up kidnapping her. Would love it if he ties her up and shows her all the reasons why she should stay with him.

Hmm... Now do I write another hucow scene or don't I? Only kidding, you all know where this is going.

Kabr0z Writes Episode 34: Free Range

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: kidnap; dubcon; noncon; lactation; impregnation;

A/N: Thanks again for the steady stream of requests, you lot! Remember if you want to see something, want me to revisit a kink or scenario I've done before, or have a totally new idea, let me know and it'll probably happen!

######################################

You loved that little shitbox of a car, mid 2000's spec, old enough to drink and still going strong. Up until about 5 miles back. You were on a tiny country road in the middle of the night, cruising at 60, when you heard an almighty bang followed by a jangling noise. Your revs went through the roof for a moment before you started to coast. By the time you stopped and inspected the damage you'd already figured out what happened. The jaunty angle of the gearstick and the lack of any resistance on it meant your gears were probably strewn across several hundred metres of road. At least your engine still worked so you had light, heat, and BBC 2.

You didn't, however have any phone signal.

So you sat in the layby in your car, idling the engine to keep the battery running and listening to the 80s. Sleeping in a running car seems like something that's probably illegal, but you figured if the police found you, they could probably give you a tow to go with the fine. Hopefully you'd make it to morning and then walk however far the nearest town is to call your insurance.

A horn behind you shocked you out of your thoughts. You looked around as a rugged 4x4 pulled level with you. A window rolled down and the driver motioned for you to do the same.

He was a bull hybrid, horns wreathing his head, a thick gold ring adorning his nose. "Need a tow?"

"Yeah, I think my gearbox is fucked" you smiled at him

"That'll do it for you, I can get you to town if you want, climb in"

You got out of your car and into his, grateful for the save. He hooked a rope from his car to yours and pulled away, your stricken vehicle in tow.

You didn't think anything of the route he took, country lanes are far too narrow to turn around in, especially in a big vehicle like this one, but you'd been travelling for a while. It's not like he wasn't charming, softly spoken with just a hint of an accent, apparently he had a herd of dairy cattle that he pastured around the area, and you were being regaled about the trade. The radio in the car gently playing some tiny local station or other, predominantly focusing on spinning old records and talking about the weather.

Suspicion set in when you turned off the road, he was taking you up a gravel track in the pitch-dark. He seemed to know the area pretty well but you figured that to get to civilization, you should probably be following the asphalt rather than abandoning it.

He pulled up at a house and turned off the engine, shoving the keys into his pocket "Come on, let's get inside"

You got out and bolted away from the house. You're not stupid enough to follow him in, you'd only just met!

He was faster than you. You'd barely made it twenty yards when you were tackled to the ground. The bull huffed as he tied your ankles together and hefted you over his shoulder. You hit and struggled against him, but he only chuckled at your assault. "Spirited, aren't you?" He opened his door and carried you over the threshold "You'll do fine here"

He put you down onto a plush sofa and sat in a chair opposite to you. Minutes passed in silence, you sullenly staring at him, him eyeing you up like a cut of meat.

"What will you do with me?" You spat at him

"Honestly, I'm not sure. You seemed like a soft townie when I picked you up. I'd thought maybe let you call for a tow, give you a coffee, and maybe a roll in the hay." He was still staring at you

"But?" You felt like there was a but coming

"But, you're not badly built, and you're not such a pushover. Now I'm deciding if I want a wife or not"

You recoiled at his comment "If you think I'm marrying you, you can fuck off!"

He shrugged and got up "Plan B then. With hips and tits like those you'll be a good fit"

He lifted you into a seated position and tore off your top, baring your chest and the rolls of your tummy. He grabbed one of your tits and hefted it "Natural, very good"

If looks could kill, you would've atomised him. As it was he merely met your gaze as he roughly inspected you.

"I was right, you'll do excellently" He picked you up again and swung you over his shoulder before carrying you outside. He crossed a field, not caring about your yelling and screaming for help. He knew nobody was around for miles, even if someone heard you they wouldn't be able to help you. He pushed open a barn door and carried you in, putting you down on a pile of straw "I'll see you tomorrow"

He left you there. The ropes were tied tightly around your ankles. You struggled against them until your fingers went numb to no avail. The other occupants of the barn stirred with your struggling. Your eyes were adjusting to the gloom, you could just about make them out.

They were other women. Some cow hybrids, some not. All of them plump, many pregnant. They looked at you with big doe eyes, curiosity on their faces as they regarded you.

The first one put her arms around you in a hug, then another and another until you were smothered in a dozen round women, their full breasts pressing against you as they started to doze off on you. Stuck there in the centre of the cuddle pile, you couldn't help your eyelids getting heavy, your head cushioned against a plush belly as sleep claimed you too.

You woke with the dawn. The other women mooing eagerly and dispersing around the barn. The bull man from last night opened the door and stepped in. He looked over at you before settling to work. One by one he attached milking cups to the other women, who each settled down contentedly as the machines pumped them, the milk being drawn into tanks at one end of the barn.

Finally he got to you.

"Enjoy your night?"

You spat at him. He laughed.

"Damn, I wish you'd reconsider being my wife. As it is, I can still put a calf in you." He lifted you and carried you to a fence, tying your arms to it before cutting your ankles free.

Your tits swung below you as he pulled your hips up and hiked your skirt up. He tore a hole in your tights, revealing your pussy. You screamed as he started to lick you, his thick tongue penetrating you already as he fingered your clit. You felt your skin flush as your body responded to him, getting wet and ready for him. His licking and stroking was drawing you in, until you quivered with a tearful orgasm.

You felt him straighten up behind you. He lay his cock on your back and you shivered with the length of it before he pulled back and started to ease the tip in, crooning as he went "You're doing great, girl, just a little more, a little more"

The sound of his voice was making you wetter than his tongue did. You whimpered from the fullness from his cock pushing slowly into you, stretching you out. Your hips were pushing back against him, sending waves of motion up your body. He started to push harder, move faster. Your whimpers turned to blissful sobs and whines as you sped towards your next orgasm, the length and girth of him getting you off all by itself. When he squeezed your hips it was too much. Your body tried to push back, but it didn't need to. He could feel your impending orgasm and hilted himself in you, tiny thrusts slapping his balls against your clit and driving you over the edge. He started to throb and pulse in you as your cunt clenched around him. His thrusts were fast and deep, he was close and wasn't going to cum anywhere but inside you. His pounding on your cervix was getting to you, as was his gripping your waist and your hips, and the jolting swaying of your tits. He pushed a hand between your legs and circled his fingers over your clit. You came again. This time he joined in. Your moans and grunts mingled as the other women watched you, still mooing in euphoria from being attached to the pumps.

He stayed inside you, his cock still giving occasional pumps of cum. His huge hands tracing patterns on your back and rubbing your aching muscles. Then he pulled out, and you heard a spatter of his cum fall out of you and onto the straw below. He cut your arms free and helped you off the railings, laying you on the straw.

"I treat my ladies well, you'll see"

A month has passed since you joined the herd. You spend your mornings hooked up to the milking machines, your afternoons lounging in the fields munching clover and enjoying the company of your new friends, then in the evenings Aaron, as you leaned his name, would often visit you and put another load in you. You're already late on your period, you just haven't told him yet.

Yeah, you're giving up some freedoms, and you're pretty sure you're getting dumber

But it sure beats your old job

###################################

Postscript: A bit of an experiment in trying to split the difference between "awful human farm" and not being overly horrible to the POV character. Hopefully it hits the mark nicely. Who knows, I may do a continuation or a "what if" where it goes into fluffy marital sex between Aaron and Fem!Reader...

At any rate, this is your periodic reminder that my ask box and DMs are always open, and to not hold back on your requests! I'm not in the habit of airing anyone's dirty laundry so if you do cross some unforeseen line the worst you'll get is a no

[nevertem]

[utilitycaster]

re the anti-resurrection poison though like. what the fuck was up with that. Like, I can, as a mediocre DM myself and an avid listener to NADDPod D&D Court understand where it came from: you needed a reason why Will and Derrig were still dead despite Keyleth being there, because that was Orym's backstory, which in turn dated back to Liam's concept for a backup character for Vax, ie, someone who had also lost a partner and would be sent to help Keyleth in the wake of a similar loss. So you come up with the anti-resurrection poison. And this also happens to work out nicely for the climactic solstice battle, because it explains why Keyleth can't just rally after Vax intervenes. It also makes sense as a thing the Ruby Vanguard would have, because of the anti-divine magic and the way that the Weave Mind have similar anti-healing powers.

The problem is, of course, that you've introduced this concept - which is, again, actually very good and elegant and fits in seamlessly - but it's out there and you have to either use it or come up with an excuse not to use it. And you can, I think, legitimately make a case for it not being in play in the Seat of Disdain fight because that came up very suddenly. But then it gets pretty weird that when Bells Hells become a consistent thorn in the Vanguard's side, and Otohan moves from "I need to keep the Ruidusborn alive but fuck everyone else" to "I'm just going to kill them all" and clearly knows they have considerable resurrection resources and access to the rare antidote given Keyleth's return to the stage that she doesn't just coat all weapons with it and nerf all healing to drain their resources.

And anyway this is a consistent problem, of like, there actually was the full setup for the story C3 intended to tell in C1 and C2 and early C3, but to make these entirely unrelated characters actually fit into a pretty specific narrative, you had to add in a bunch of complicated additions. And while some of those were a mess, some were actually really well done, like the initial introduction of the anti-resurrection poison and the gray assassins, and then none of it mattered because they were always just additions to make the core plot fit and there were too many balls in the air so they got dropped without exploration, and anyone paying attention was like "hey you dropped this" and it's like you could have juggled 3 or even 4 or 5 balls adequately, but you had to add in 4 extra balls and ultimately some of them landed on the ground and so the act of barely keeping 3 in the air in the end is undercut by the number you dropped.

[vadfannypack]

does anyone else fw him

[herearedragons]

so the Drakona Iron Republic situation was crazy: summary post.

(cw: grief/loss, suicidal thoughts, dissociation, what is definitely ptsd)

messing with the timeline and putting the Firebrand's Feast of the Exceptional Rose "you and I have been reforged in flames of irrigo" scene Right before Drakona leaves for the Republic. like, for gameplay reasons it has to happen during the festival, but for the purposes of me playing dolls in my mind it Doesn't Have To

so for the purposes of this, he takes them on a nice "before you go to Literal Hell" date, where he says the whole thing about how he's given up on trying to recover the memories he lost and he'd rather build a new identity instead, and how they're one of the things he remembers perfectly, and how the irrigo made them both stronger actually. he says the "tell me what you need, I'll be that and more" thing. and in what is a sweet but also kind of unhinged moment considering what they're about to do, they go "then be mine."

he goes "that will be easy."

can we get a round of applause for Drakona Finally Committing. this is like the last good thing that will happen to them in this.

anyway, in my mind this conversation finally makes their thing Official in the sense that they've been seeing each other, but neither of them has really SAID anything about where this is going. until now. this is a surprise tool that will help us later.

he's very much not going with them to the Republic (they do not want him there), so he gets them a little gift to take with them. specifically a deep amber pendant necklace (mirroring his first gift to them). he asks them to think of him while they're away. this is a surprise tool that will help us later

they do in fact think of him while they're away, which, during the zee journey, just seems to complicate things. they're out there trying to empty their mind of everything but Revenge, and instead they keep thinking of who they've left behind in London. they're not planning on dying in the Republic, but the little they know of it frightens them (THEY ARE CORRECT IN THAT. OH MY GOD ARE THEY CORRECT.), and also, well, it's The Final Act. it's revenge time. they don't know what they might have to do, what it might take. and they'll never back down, because they owe it to James, because they'll never be able to live in peace until they see it finished, before they see justice done. but can they be the person they need to be to do this if they keep thinking back to someone else?

visiting the three sisters in Hunter's Keep who seem to only ever to want to talk about the lovers they left back in London does not help.

overall though, zeefaring actually does them some good. they settle into the role of captain surprisingly well. they can conjure an air of authority when they need to, they're a quick thinker, and their newfound unhingedness is enough to strike fear and/or respect into the hearts of whoever they need to strike it into. that Bizarre/Dreaded combo really coming through as they prowl the deck shouting orders. by the middle of the journey they have enough of a hold on the crew that when Drownies start singing around the ship, they don't lose a single soul

cue the Iron Republic leitmotif.

so the second they set foot in the port the sky opens up and rains a new law down, and it's a Law That Kills You Unless You're Really Faithful To Someone and they get caught by it and don't die. REMEMBER THAT SURPRISE TOOL, FOLKS?

this is going to mess with their head for a while because they don't actually know which commitment saved them. is it their commitment to their revenge? is it the amber necklace tucked under their shirt? is it something else entirely?

but we don't have time to ponder that too much, because we have UNCEASING REALITY WARPING NIGHTMARE scheduled!

damn Warning wasn't lying that Iron Republic sure can Changed You

it's. bad. even for an experienced honey user, it's bad. every day is mental and physical torture and there's no reprieve from it and they just have to keep going. but it's too much, and I think the longer they stay, parts of their mind just start shutting down one by one. emotions go first. then smaller concerns that can be spared in the face of existential danger, like neat appearance, or wondering how their friends are doing back in London. actually, it's easier not to think about London at all, the way it's easier to not think about the Surface sometimes. if they pretend this is all they've ever known, it's easier. just a little. but, god, they'll take those crumbs when they can get them.

the deranged becomes normal. it feels like they've forgotten how to be shocked. nothing phases them anymore.

a reality-shift makes them tear the chain on the amber necklace and they don't have the presence of mind to fix it, so they're keeping it in their pocket now. sometimes they can't bear to remember it's there. sometimes holding it in their hand feels like the only thing that's keeping them sane

they work towards their goal.

they find the prison.

they find Scathewick.

and it's ALL STAGED it's FUCKING STAGED

they're right where someone wants them to be. someone wanted them HERE, EXACTLY as tortured as they are, and that someone wants them to kill that man.

and they're going to do it. because the part of them that would have thought twice is not home right now. because it's justice. because IT'S THE KNIFE IT'S THE SAME KNIFE IT'S THE

the details of WHY they're even doing this became blurry in the... how long has it even been? how many days? they don't remember. they just remember revenge. they have a mission, they NEED to finish it, they CAN'T LEAVE until they FINISH IT

it becomes clearer when they see the knife, though. when they remember finding his body.

it's justice.

it's not over. it's not even nearly over.

killing Scathewick doesn't even feel good.

they walk back on board of their ship, drenched in blood, still holding the knife, staring directly in front of themself, say nothing to no one, and lock themself in their quarters.

they clean up. they cry. they break the hell down because it's not over, all that and it's not over, and James died because of THEM. to lead THEM here. to make THEM into this.

Drakona has enemies. that makes sense. but who the FUCK cared enough about Catherine to do all of that.

and that someone is still watching them. all this time, they've been doing exactly what was expected of them.

somewhere in the middle of that breakdown they reach for the amber necklace and realize that it's gone. they've dropped it while they were murdering Scathewick.

it's somehow the least bad thing that happened to them today. the realization gets one miserable noise and that's it.

on the way back to London, they get a little too contemplative staring at the waves. if it's all about them. if James died FOR them. BECAUSE of them. how long until it's Jacob*? how long until it's their cousin, again? how long until it's Sunny, again? and this isn't Jack-Of-Smiles. this will be permanent. whoever is doing this isn't in the business of sending messages, they are removing people, by the hands of others.

others like Drakona.

they can keep investigating this. they have the notes. but isn't this exactly what the murderer wants them to do?

is the best ending achieved by removing themself from the equation entirely?

they don't go through with it. they do agree with the ship surgeon's (their cousin's) decision that they should probably stay in their quarters for the rest of the journey.

it's a lot of staring at walls. it's a lot of not looking or touching or interacting in any other way with the knife they brought back from the prison, because whenever they think about it they start getting the kind of ideas that got them confined to their quarters in the first place. they don't let anyone else touch or take it away, though, so it's just. sitting there. at the very bottom of a chest. and they can pretend it's not there, that they've left it behind on the floor of that cell instead of the amber necklace — and they're crying again.

they do come out towards the end of the voyage to manage a naval chase situation, which honestly probably does them some good, but also uses up the rest of their energy. which might also be good. they're to tired to do or think anything too self-destructive after that

back in London, it's a lot of bed rest to recover from the wounds they brought back from the Republic. they don't mind. it's a lot of empty time; even when they're technically well enough to walk around and go outside with some assistance, they choose not to. they can't really bear to face anyone or to undertake anything bigger than moving from one spot in their townhouse to another. they read a little, then the story reminds them of something, so they stop. mostly they sleep, and pretend to sleep.

they know that when they get up, they'll have to pick up the case again. it's going to start again. and they don't want to. so they don't get up.

they probably can't stay like this forever, but they can stay like this for now. and maybe forever.

word gets out that The Dreaming Detective was badly injured at zee and is recovering at home. people send gifts. letters. they are a person of interest. they have allies and admirers who wish them well.

the only thing they really touch is a weird puzzle-box from the Honey-Addled Detective, which they make a halfhearted attempt at solving every now and then. he's visited in person, said that when they can solve it, it means that they're well again. that doesn't sound true, but it's a way to pass the time

Jacob comes to see them, early on. they sit him down and explain the situation. someone is after them; it's serious; it's worse than Jack; it's someone powerful; it's who knows them from the Surface. they tell him everything about James. about their life as Catherine. they explain that they can't protect him; that if he chooses to stay, he should know that.

he does not leave. he joins the rest of their inner circle in keeping them company, in rotation, making sure they're not alone for long periods of time.

mostly they don't feel like talking to anyone, but telling him about their past leads to him sharing some of his, admitting to things he doesn't remember and wishes he did.

half-jokingly, they say that they've half a mind to throw themself into irrigo again, if not for the fear that it would leave the awful memories and take everything else

even in the midst of it all, it gives him pause. he's been looking into ways to cancel out the irrigo entirely, but what if he could give them what they want? what if one could let the irrigo in, and control what it takes?

it's something to think about.

he won't say anything to them. not yet. the last thing he wants is to get their hopes up, and then disappoint.

time passes.

it's hard to say what exactly happens. there's just a sudden moment of awareness, catching a glimpse of themself in the mirror — they've been avoiding mirrors — their body feels like an ill-fitting suit, after the Republic, and they know they'll find some fault in what they see — would their eyes be different? the eyes of a murderer? —

they catch a glimpse of themself in the mirror. Catherine stares back.

their hair has grown out to where it was before the Neath. in their nightgown, it's almost like they're back on the Surface. like they've never left. like they stayed, and let the grief wither them away.

they certainly look withered. they haven't been eating a whole lot. maybe that's why they feel so damn tired all the time.

taking the scissors in their hand feels like a gamble, for a moment, but the weight and balance is different from a knife. this could be an implement for violence — who if not them knows that most things could — but the part of their mind they'd been wary of stays silent. they're just holding a pair of scissors. nothing more, nothing less.

they cut most of it off, but not all of it. the person in the mirror is now entirely unfamiliar, neither from the Surface nor from the Neath, and it suits them just fine.

the next time someone walks into their room, they find a wall cleared, paintings and furniture removed, and the Detective propped up against a table they've dragged over, tacking pages torn out of Scathewick's journal to the wall. there are notes. possibly there is red string. they aren't working with their usual feverish determination; their movements are slower, mechanical, the first awkward steps of someone stepping back into their own body. it's muscle memory more than anything, sorting through evidence, noting down patterns and inconsistencies. but they've done more in two hours than they have in several weeks, combined.

a few days later, they put their morning coat on, and go outside.

a week or so later, Jacob has a gift for them. a necklace like the one they've lost, set with violet amber this time. he had some in his pocket in the cave, he explains; later he found it changed. he's been experimenting with it, and he's fairly sure it's safe. for forgetting the things that pain you, he says.

changed. like them. like him. it is fitting; they'll give him that.

they smile.

"I'm glad you're still here," they say.

he told them that once, right after the Nadir. they understand now.

the Dreaming Detective has changed, but London hasn't. London, that is twisted and dark and unforgiving in its own right; that will drink the love out of you and then bleed you for more; but there is a rhyme to it, and the walls usually don't bleed, and one is that less likely to find themself briefly turned inside out on their morning stroll.

all in all, it's still familiar. it's still their city. they've carved their name into it, and now the walls echo it back to them when they walk around.

they've changed.

they're home.

they have a case. they better get to solving it.

* the name I've given the Revolutionary Firebrand for fic purposes

[heich0e]

things i can't remember if i told u abt the yoga tomura au:

toshinori is his adopted dad

tomura and touya are both nepo babies but tomura kind of hates taking advantage of his dad's kindness (touya, in contrast, extorts his father for all he's worth)

spinner comes from a normal family (single mom, little sister) but touya and tomura don't make him pay rent. it wasn't ever a conversation or anything (too cringe) they just have never once discussed it.

tomura thinks you're so far out of his league that at least once a day he has a mini meltdown that he's not good enough for you. when you first started seeing eachother he texted toshinori and asked "dad how do you do laundry" and the next morning toshinori showed up at the boys' apartment in a full white outfit like mr clean and with a bucket full of cleaning supplies in tow

when tomura didn't answer toshinori's calls when he came to pick him up for yoga class, spinner eventually blew his cover bc he answered the door half-asleep and said "tomura? s'not here." toshinori was confused, but touya sealed his fate by walking up to the door behind toshinori (just getting home from a night out) and went "he's probably at his girlfriend's house again" as he steps past him through the doorway and then proceeds to give a SHOCKED papa toshi your full legal name, address, and phone number

[adamanteine]

was gonna spend the day putting things to my queue and just ended up finishing rgg studio's judgment instead but little notice that i'm not gonna be active ooc from the 14th to 21st of july because i'll be travelling heh

[ethosiab]

I’m. So normal about the team Canada au. So normal and definitely not about to combust. Really just the most normal a person could possibly be. Perfectly still and certainly not vibrating out of my skin. I am. Calm.

Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please say more I must know about the little dudes I will not survive the winter

i believe you . you're soooo normal.

i, however, am not. long rambles + art under the cut

plot-wise, the AU is predominantly centered around the two Ethos—the 'original', who works for the Script Foundation and donated his DNA to their clone research for a little extra cash, and 404, an escaped clone and one of the more successful results of said research. The Script Foundation is a scientific/medical corporation, among the many in the system looking for a cure to death. To get around their inability to experiment on human subjects, they developed the cloning program, to develop realistic human bodies without the consciousness that brings in ethical issues (spoiler alert this does not happen).

When 404 escapes, of course the Script Foundation wants them back. A bounty is put out for them, and the Etho's put on a team to help bring them back. Etho, Tango (ship mechanic, Etho's only friend), and Joel (bounty hunter, does not want to be here) spend their time hunting down 404, and running into many issues along the way.

On the other side of things, 404 spends only about 3 hours on the run before they run into Pause and Beef. There's a lot of weirdness here, 404 doesn't recognize Pause and Beef beyond a sense of deja vu, and Pause and Beef think 404 is Etho (who they have not seen in years and have presumed is dead). I'm writing a fic for this scene, actually. long story short team canada takes 404 in, and agree they can stay with them for a bit.

From this point on, there's a lot going on for both sides.

Etho's face is plastered all over the city, it's a pretty high bounty, and he probably gets mistaken for 404 multiple times before the information gets updated with a photo of 404 with the scar. Joel and Tango have to work together to rescue him after he gets captured by rival bounty hunters

404 gets beef and pause to call them that, because they don't want to be etho (and the confusion that would come from using that name is immense). they aren't etho. they're not entirely satisfied with going by their number designation though, but they've got nothing better

pause and beef continue to grapple with the fact that A: etho is not dead, B: the guy that looks like Etho, who is currently sleeping on their couch, is not actually Etho, and C: they're helping a wanted criminal

The two of them do briefly consider handing 404 over, with the logic that they shouldn't have any attachment to them since they're just a clone, not actually their friend. They can't bring themselves to, though.

404's scar is from a knife to the face- when they first met beef and pause, 404 had no idea who they were. they were scared, and intimidated, and those two were acting way too familiar with them. they attacked pause, and he retaliated. it just so happened that pause was armed, and trained how to fight, and 404 was...not.

luckily, 404 heals quickly. a cut to the face that should have taken minimum of a month to heal, and should have been fatal without medical attention, resolves itself in a few days. ...that's probably why the script foundation wants him back, huh.

Team canada are able to keep the knowledge that theyre harboring a fugitive on the downlow by being known bounty hunters- they've generally got good standing with people.

in fact, 404 just helps them with bounty hunting. They have the time of their life doing this shit. pause and beef love having them around too (it makes them wish Etho had agreed to join them doing this, all those years ago).

team canada are having a lighthearted and fun time, things go wrong but they escape trouble and everything ends alright. that's their vibe.

for etho though, everything keeps going wrong it's almost comical. everytime they've got a lead and almost catch 404, something gets in the way. in my head this au really is just a space opera anime in a similar vein to cowboy bebop, so etho and the gang are like the very unlucky villains.

tango and joel are constantly bickering. a big point of contention between them is that joel wants to fly the ship, because this is his mission and he was hired to do this, but Tango won't let him because its his ship and he's not going to let some bounty hunter drive it. Etho is so tired.

404 does not wear a facemask like etho. in fact its just a generally stressful time for etho to have his face well known everywhere. he doesn't like people seeing his face, and while mostly its an anxiety thing during social interaction, after so long of keeping it private, its really unsettling having to see it everywhere.

Joel's mostly in it for the money to pay off his debt, Tango's there because he's worried about Etho, and Etho's doing it because he thinks he has to. He hasn't really had a life seperate from the Script Foundation in years, it's all he knows. for him, this is about finding out what he's being made to do it fucked up, and the choice to do something about it.

It's about seeing this happier and more free version of himself, and choosing to help them instead of feeling the resentment he wants to. (Look at this person who is meant to be you. they are experiencing the joy you never got with the people you turned your back on. you realise you've never gotten that, you've been hiding from yourself for your entire life because you've been scared of upsetting the quota. you've been settling for mediocrity when you could've had so much more. Are you going to allow them that?)

also 404 might figure out theyre trans so that's a really fun thing for etho to find out about himself through his clone.

yeah i think the genres here are very different depending on whether you're looking at it from 404 or from Etho's pov lmao

and this isn't even getting into the shit about genetically enhanced humans, or cyborgs.

okay you've made it this far, have some sketches of the ethos as reward. these are from probably a mid point in the plot, i was playing with the idea of 404 being able to grow their hair our for a few months after escaping.

[shungyo]

Your favorite nonbinary ronin is here to offer you a one of a life time deal ! ❤️ for a starter, simple as that - with no additional charges. And it gets even greater cause you, the reader, get to decide which verse you'll be meeting them ! Genshin, HSR, modern, pokemon ? We got them all ! So go ahead, press that button ⬇️, comment which verse and meet one of the most insufferable yet charming characters around these parts.

[yamiiwaii]

gonna share my cannibalism alnst au here too for the masses

cannibalism outbreak among pets .... they start getting scared .... till runs away from urak trying to sneak meat into his food and bumps into ivan .... thinks ivan is normal turns out he's Not and now till is scared of him too .... ivan doesn't want them so he tries to be normal but it's so hard around till and the others

ivan gets introduced to it young, in the slums

hyuna gets introduced to it while with the rebels but she rarely indulges unless absolutely necessary

sua gets introduced to it by her "sister" as a form of fear mongering and control, she hates it and is disgusted by her urges so she tries not to indulge ever

till is scared of it, it makes him nauseous and he hates anyone who falls to their urges

mizi is intrigued by it and has tried to ask sua about it but that's a tough nut to crack

luka is mostly unaware of the problem i think ... he was raised to be pure and perfect so those around him condemned it for being dirty and lowly

i think till and mizi are part of the rebels still in this and they still stand for the same things they do in canon except it's more of a take back society from the aliens thing because they believe the aliens are the reason cannibalism is something so rampant among human children

while they're right *somewhat* it's moreso the aliens encourage it because that's normal among their species too but none of them ever force it or introduce it to their pets unless it's out of control like in till's case

there's a lot of taboo around it and many pets who are in stardom are trained to avoid questions related to it, some aren't even allowed to act in things with it as a plot point to avoid cancellation

ivan grows up to be someone who doesn't really Care about all that and considering he has slightly more freedom than the others unsha lets him act and answer whatever he wants because he's media trained so he has a Lot of scandals

ivan knows about the rebels and has refused to join them on multiple occasions but he keeps them as connections because sua, he never cared for their movement because he has complicated feelings around it but i think that changes once he meets till

ivan is very conflicted about the rebels and when he meets till and sees how Against it and passionate he is about getting rid of this issue he's like "fuck. i'm a freak. I HAVE TO STOP BEING A FREAK" he never tells till. i think a series of very odd things happen and then till finds out. shit like ivan smelling him all the time, ivan randomly drooling around him, ivan trying to bite him all the time, little things like that

and till thinks nothing of it, literally nobody does but then till walks in on ivan absolutely GORGING on some weird looking meat and he's like "????" but ivan plays it off and till lets it go. but then he accidentally eavesdrops on a conversation between sua and ivan about hiding urges and he starts getting suspicious

this, i imagine, is like right around when they get closer too. like till is letting ivan in and he's starting to develop feelings towards ivan and this is really important to him. he trusts ivan with every fiber of his being so when he starts noticing shit he gets a little anxious. every time he asks ivan about it ivan lies or dodges the questions, sua refuses to tell till anything either and mizi is no help so he starts an investigation by himself. he starts trying to bait ivan into slipping up somehow and i think eventually ivan Does.

they're having an argument, it's one worse than any they've ever had. nobody else is in the base and things are starting to get physical, till goes to hit ivan and ivan, in an attempt to stop him, just kinda grabs him and. bites a chunk out of his shoulder and swallows right in front of till.

till's horrified and still as a board, ivan is panicking trying to save face and explain but till can't hear him it's like stark quiet aside from ringing in his ears so he runs as fast as he can away from ivan and ivan runs after him. they're like, running through the base until till is able to lock himself in his room and figure out what the hell he's gonna do about his shoulder and ivan is like banging on his door pleading for him to open up and it's rough IT'S ROUGH. eventually the others come back and ivan leaves without saying anything to them but this definitely throws a massive wretch into their relationship and till avoids ivan like the PLAGUE

that's definitely the precursor to ivan trying to like, curb his urges so he starts forcing them down trying to replace them with literally anything else and it takes a huge toll on him. he gets paler and prone to sickness easier, he grows depressed because till is still refusing to see him and talk to him and it's starting to bleed into his work. unsha is Mad. Disappointed. so he takes things into his own hands after too many months of ivan refusing to indulge at least Once so he forces ivan to by placing him in a room full of flesh and meat and nothing else, this is his ultimatum. it's either the lives of worthless human pets or ivan's.

ofc ivan cracks cuz he's hungry as hell and it makes him feel better physically but mentally he sees himself as disgusting because now till will never look at him again, this is like. his greatest punishment.

meanwhile on till's side mizi is annoyed, she's tired of his pity party and she tells till as much because he looks like shit and it's dragging the team down. so she facilitates a meet up for these which is timed in the worst way possible because it's right after ivan's ultimatum. it goes about as well as one would expect .... till doesn't say anything, he's too scared to for a variety of reasons so ivan does all the talking and it doesn't really ... help like at all. but he keeps talking anyway and eventually till spills how he's feeling and they make up

[kabr0ztrousers]

Would love a chubby fem reader who comes across a hurt monster (whatever you feel like writing for) in the woods and helps it. In return the monster drags her back to his den and breeds her. 🫶🫶🫶

Ask, and you shall receive, dear reader!

Kabr0z Writes Episode 27: The Wounded Beast

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: creampie; inflation; mild gore; size difference; enthusiastic consent; pregnancy mention; human X feral (fantasy);

A/N: Sometimes when I write asking you folks to ask for what you want to read, I get requests in return! I'm aiming to write one of these a day for a whole year! If you have an idea, it's pretty likely to get made if you only ask!

#######################################

You've been ranging these woods for years, today you're tracking a poacher. Since the council made this section of forest a monster sanctuary, bandits kept marauding through, trying to nab a few illicit heads to turn in for bounties. This bastard was leaving traps. You know you'll still be finding them for weeks after you get him, even if they do make it comically easy to track his movements.

You hear a clang, then a yelll. You break into a sprint. The your soft body rolling as you barrel through the undergrowth and over roots. People expect a ranger to be swarthy and limber, not be 200 pounds and built to toss cabers. Always surprises them to get blindsided by a woman twice their size. You burst through to where you heard the trap, a small cleared patch. The bandit got there before you, poor fuck. He'd probably expected to get a hobgoblin or a lurker. Caught in the jaws of his trap was a minotaur, a big, ornery alpha male. This beastie is covered in blood, only some of it his. It's gnawing on a femur, torn from the bandit currently strewn around the glade.

A wounded minotaur is the most dangerous beast in these woods. Thankfully you know a few tricks from living out here. You took off your top, baring your big tits before stepping out, bowing low and mooing as best as you can. If it thinks you're a cow it won't attack you, at least until it figures out the ruse. You make it to the trap. It's a simple bear trap, normally used by fur trappers up North. Maybe he was from there? You press down on either side of it, forcing the jaws apart and getting the minotaur's hoof out before allowing it to snap shut again. You knelt and inspected the wound. The big brute was barely hurt. Minotaur skin is tough, and their bones are like iron. A quick strip of cloth to keep the wound clean and you're on your way. Not a moment too soon either, it sounds like he's nearly done with his bone and you don't want to be next on the menu.

You turn to leave. A huge hand closes around your ankle. Your blood runs cold.

The beast hefts you above its head, dangling you upside-down and staring into your eyes. You'd never seen a minotaur so close up. You can feel its hot breath on your face, the smell of blood and rotten meat making bile rise in your throat. With a snort, it tosses you over its shoulder. You shake with his steps, even built as you are, he's carrying you like you weigh nothing at all. Nothing challenges him as he carries you back to his den.

It's quiet. Normally a minotaur bull would have a harem of cows, each kept in a state of permanent pregnancy by his frequent rut. This one must be young, and decided you were convincing enough to take with him. You feel him moving you off his back, yelping as he drops you onto the threshed floor. The grass is warm on your back. He's above you, huffing and grunting as his cock edged out of its sheath, long and thick, a pronounced flare at the tip. From here you can see his balls, as big as apples, churning in anticipation.

When in Rome, as they say.

You reach out to the twitching cock in front of you and start rubbing the shaft. His grunts got faster as soon as you touched it, the lengthening cock in front of you responding. The flare bulges before you, ready to start rutting into you, but you'll need some more prep of you don't want to hurt yourself. You pull off your trousers and rub at your pussy, spreading the wetness around. You start licking his flare, getting as much spit and drool over it as you can. Every bit of lubrication will help, and the thick drops of precum rolling out of him are definitely going to help. You can feel yourself dripping your own juices, the sound of you fingering yourself mingling with his grunts. You're as ready as you'll ever be.

You pull away from his cock and turn around, bracing yourself on the cave wall and presenting your rear to him, you've seen minotaurs rutting before, but never imagined you'd be on the receiving end.

He gripped your waist, taking great handfuls of your supple flesh and lining himself up. You're on your tiptoes, and can tell he's aiming downwards to get at your pussy. You arch your back as he forces the flare in, stretching your cunt around it. You stay there a moment. This must be his first time, he's getting used to you before he fucks you properly. A roll of your hips reminds him what to do as he grips harder and lifts you up. You're pulled upright as he holds you above his cock, moaning as you're lowered down onto it. Your legs twitch as he hits your cervix, skewering you on his cock before lifting you up again. He's picking up speed, lifting and dropping you, using you like a cocksleeve to get off. Your hands aren't idle either. One is groping at your tits and the other rubbing your clit faster and faster, delighting in being filled so thoroughly. He drops you down hard, forcing the air out of you and bringing you to a gasping orgasm. You start squeezing with your pussy, desperate to feel him fill you with his cum. You don't have to work too hard. He grabs your tits as he leans over, keeping you pinned to his belly as his cock spurts straight into your womb. You can feel the huge flare plugging you up as he fills you. Your needy womb fills fast from the sheer volume he pumps into you, starting to bulge and distend as you cum again from the feeling of the hot seed pumping into you, jet after jet.

He keeps you clutched to him. The cock in you isn't deflating yet, still twitching and spurting occasionally, the volume of semen in you causing some to leak out around him. Your legs are dangling uselessly below you, you're held up entirely on his cock. You can feel it start to shift and retract. Pulling gently out until the flare comes out of you with an audible pop. A gush of thick cum and a gasp from you accompany it. He sits and lays your head in his lap, playing with your hair as his cum leaks out of your pussy.

Being a minotaur's wife doesn't seem so bad, on reflection

#####################################

And that's another one in the bag!

Again, if you want me to write anything, anything at all, ask, ask, ask! If you don't ask you might not get, and if you send an anon ask, you can get me to write as many as you like! I won't know it's the same person asking, now will I?

Also, do we prefer fantasy stories or sci fi? I can't guarantee the line won't blur occasionally, but it'll be nice to gauge interest

[minnow-doodle-doo]

Write the fic and use this as a cover.

[tintedswindows]

WITH: whoever! @langstonstarters WHERE:  the palladium forum. WHEN:  10:37am.

adrien’s leaning too close to a canvas in the campus gallery, smudging fingerprints near the “do not touch” sign, narrating his thoughts like he’s on a date with himself. he’s wearing aviator sunglasses inside — unashamed — despite the fluorescent lighting and the fact that he clearly hasn’t slept. his shirt is half-buttoned, collar askew, and there’s glitter near one eyebrow that refuses to be explained. his breath still smells vaguely of mint and regret. a crumpled energy drink can rattles in the pocket of his coat every time he shifts, like it’s trying to escape before whatever shame spiral he’s circling around pulls it in too.

he squints at the painting in front of him — “untitled” in all caps, emotionally vague — and then gestures lazily toward it, that trademark adrien beaumont smirk already forming. “they call this ‘untitled.’ i call it ‘emotional damage in oil paint.’ what’s your critique, art student number seven?” he tilts his head without looking over, lifting the edge of his sunglasses just enough to lock eyes with whoever’s unlucky or curious enough to be standing nearby. “be honest. is it the painting that’s making me dizzy, or the fact that i may or may not still be drunk?” he doesn’t wait for an answer. instead, he lets the sunglasses fall back into place and mutters, mostly to himself now: “looks like heartbreak and tax evasion had a baby.”

[dojunie]

dojun wip update with snippets...!

→ swimming for dummies; ljn

current wc: 30k

est finished wc: possibly 40k… and… and i’m already working on a part 2…

info update: in my top 3 as far as writing priority goes, stuck in a mental block with the last scene before the ‘ending’ (also possible retitle incoming lol)

snippet ↓

→ misdial; ljn

current wc: 58k

est finished wc: 70k-75k

info update: again, very big writers block, i’m realizing that i don’t actually like the current trajectory of this plot so im struggling between rewriting it completely or trying to fandangle what i DO like about it into a something that makes more realistic sense

snippet ↓

→ misdial, the lake house; njm

current wc: 24k

est finished wc: 35K

info update: high prio! i’m having fun writing this so it’s coming to me easier. no current writers block, just a little hard to sit down and concentrate…

snippet ↓

→ courtside; ljn or njm (itwd retitle/rewrite)

current wc: 61k

est finished wc: 80k-90k

info update: still my pride and joy. this is not coming any time soon LOL, but i am actually having a lot of fun with this one too… struggling between maybe posting the first chapter and seeing how it does (but worrying about people getting bored waiting between updates…) or sucking it up and waiting to post it only until its completely finished (which will be in 2026 by this rate…)

snippet ↓

and, secretly, a new contender to the board…

→ overnight gamer; ldh

current wc: 31k

est finished wc: girl idk. rough ballpark, 50k, but that sounds like wishful thinking even to me

info update: not really an update bc i’ve never posted about this on here before but here is half the reason i’ve been so slow with working on everything else… hello, gamer haechan brainrot!

snippet ↓

authors note: so! hello my friends :D i've been mia for a little bit because every time i go away for a while i get nervous to come back LOL but... i've been writing! so i thought it might be nice to post a little update so you all don't think i've died or anything

[illicitlifc]

Might have forgotten I did one so deleted and remade because I'm alive. So. PLease, give this post some affection if you'd like something from my dumbass son Rohan.

Mutuals only. Multis plz specifiy. Side blogs reply. Length will vary but will probably be more on the short side to break ice and get things started for new people. I'm going to see how many I can do before I can't think of anymore starters. If you want a specific verse plz say. Just note HSR I'm still slowly working things out for him!