#like if you read this giant rant

[randomnameless]

To continue the woobified view of the Elites and my comparison of them to the Black Eagles :

Same for me regarding the BE, especially because they also literally fought Edelgard's troops in WC when you choose their house, and even if you don't, they definitely still would know that Edelgard dus nasty shits in WC.

The idea that media literacy is dead is quite fitting, because the idea that even rotten persons have loved ones/that having loved ones doesn't mean you're not rotten is a known thing, yet the Eagles and elites get a pass solely because "they genuinely believe in the cause" and "they love and care for each other"

Probably Fraldarius was as devoted to Nemesis as Ingrid to Dimitri, Lamine very well may have been as sassy as Dorothea, perhaps Goneril was as brave and endearing as Caspar, or Maurice was as loyal to his clan's interests as Petra to Brigid's happiness (through a strong bond to the Empire) but like the BE, they are butchers, who relished in the destruction of everything those against them hold dear, lap dogs and rabid curs of someone they definitely know have crushed innocents and scorn the very idea of peace except under their domination.

The only meaningful difference between Edelgard-following BE and the elites is that we can know more about the BE and we are forced to dislike cutting them down even as they refuse to let northern Fódlan alone.

Honestly I need a fanfiction where the BE are called out for that bullshit.

Yep!

That's the tone deaf feeling I got from Nopes, the Deers are hunting someone bcs their leader wants her dead for no reason, but Raph only comments on how hungry he is.

Uh, sure Raph, you're not the most thoughtful character in there, but come on? Some commentary or exposition on what you're doing? Hello KT? Can we have characters be challenged or even react to the events of screen instead of wondering what's for dinner/teatime?

No??

I wouldn't say it's an issue of media litteracy being dead, but more something in the lines of people being more and more "all or nothing" nowadays, without any nuance and conflating liking a character with the idea/image that might project on you : if I like ASOIAF's Cersei, I don't think everything she does is "justified", but modern fandom, I feel like some people would categorize you as a "good" or "bad" person based on the characters you like, and it's just... not what fandom is or was supposed to be imo, I'm here to nerd and gush about favourite characters, not write litteral essays about the Geneva Convention.

Corollary is what, imo, made the Fodlan fandom hell : some people really take "criticism" against a character personally - sure the way FE16 was written invites projection, but at the end of the day, making a Berning Fire Joke is, just, making a joke about a bunch of pixels, nothing more.

Back to the BEs, they can have a sense of camaraderie and genuinely support each other... as they tear apart "people because Supreme Leader told me to" and fight side by side with Bob the Carpented who was turned into Waldi the demonic beast.

Ferdie can skewer Flayn on her father's lance because she is "a creature that has plagued humanity for ages" even if they reached a C support before shit hit the fan - and still protect Mercedes and Bernie from their abusing Fathers. Does that make him a great guy? A nuanced guy?

I think the trope is called "even evil people have loved ones" or something like that?

I don't think so, but he is no random one note villain sycophant either - now, what is the more annoying with the Fodlan games is how this dichotomy is never called upon : everything is just a giant blob or Hresvelg Grey ("morally grey" but only applied to Supreme Leader) where no one really is angry at her, and all the "sacrifices" she's making are off-screen while the characters on-screen always moan about her "ReFoRmS" and "IdEaLs" without talking about the cost bar some milquetoast "but war bad". And no one, in the game, will ever throw this hypocrisy to their face - Gallant Ferdinand will dream about the Opera as he wipes off the blood of a young woman who just wanted to return to the only home she had.

Yay.

FWIW, some mutuals and I have nothing but pure lols about Doro's line in the non-CF routes being "we killed Ferdie professor :'(" because, hey, why should I care more about Ferdie than about random loldier 55 ? Rhea? Felix? Claude? Ignatz?

Maybe the Elites were really friends and became """"nice""" persons with time, to their families and loved ones ?

Does this magically erase what they did before? Will that "good" they did erase all the "wrongs" they have previously done? Will theyr forever escape the consequences of their actions?

In a game that depicts Flamey as a terrorist for 11 chapters only to drop that plot point by the window to moan, again, about her "IdEaLs", "consequences" are maybe something you can eat as a snack, or throw in a trashcan.

So following the rules of this verse, given how Supreme Leader never receives flak for her Flamey stunts, why should the Elites receive any for what they did? Look, Maurice calls Daphnel his friend, surely he is not that bad of a man? Well yeah, he might have seduced women and planted a lot of wild oats here'n'there, but he cares about his friends!

Jeritza likes ice creams and cats! Surely it's more important to paint him as a cat lover than to deal with all the consequences of his stunt as the Death Knight, kidnapping and implied rekting young woman while he was in GM, under Flamey's orders, right?

Calling it now, after eviscerating Seteth's older brother, Goneril might have melted in front of one of Rhea's kittens, and adopted the cat asap. Surely that makes Goneril a "good" character right? And forget the entire "genocided a bunch of hippies living isolated in their village" stuff?

I don't have fanfics recs where the BEs are called hypocrites, but I confess I don't read a lot of fanfics in the FE16 fandom because of all of the aforementioned issues.

#maelor321 #replies #i don't even know if i replied to your ask lol #i disgressed and ranted #fandom woes #FE16 was designed as a game where you'd feel bad for fighting against 'your loved ones' aka precious students #the writing and execution is so artificial that they couldn't even make it believable for a second #so instead we are hit with giant signposts that read 'plz be sad now' #like Doro's we killed Ferdie sad uwus #or even Billy's choice in SS/VW of i don't want to kill Supreme Leader/I want to walk with her uwu #she is revealed to be Flamey she has been warring for 5 long years she caught Rhea #she had so many randoms peons killed #and yet the game has the nerve to give us this? #evening salt #SW!Anakin loves his fiancee so much uwu #sure he murders a bunch of babies and toddlers but don't you want to walk with him to create a galactic empire and kill #people who don't agree with him? including his beloved wife? #people conflate nuance and 'grey' with 'my fave did nothing wrong'

[twinkliker3000]

the world if people didnt pointlessly gender x reader fics:

#small rant #like especially when the writer doesnt even say it at the start #ill find a good fanfic and halfway though BAM “y/n breasted boobily down the stairs with her big giant womanly hips” #at least sometimes there are male!reader fics but i cant imagine how hard it is to find something to read if you dont use either pronouns #LET ME BE GAY WRITERS #do we really need to know if y/n has dick and balls in a fanfic where they engage in premarital hand holding??? #its 100x even worse when you're in a smaller/older fandom #dont even get me started on x reader fanfics that are actually about an oc #so close to writing my own fanfics atm #fanfic #x reader #fanfic meme #ao3 memes #i have no idea what fandom to tag this under #the y/n community

[andi-o-geyser]

i talk in the tags it's how i show love

#andis thought gesyer #ironically this is the one post i'm not talking in the tags of lol #actually no fuck that #i haven't been writing dissertations in the tags for a while mostly bc im writing dissertations in real life (aka essays fml) #but god i miss it like im sooo sorry to all the ops out there but im flooding your notifs with one giant fucking heap of tags #and you will real it an ENJOY IT because i LOVED your post #like this is the no reading comprehension app and i'm here of my own free will and you know what that means? #i get to literally just rant and give my thoughts in the tags. you get to hear my internal monologue. it means i LOVE what your posted #just let me gush over the little dumb intricacies of how much i love a thing you made #this app is so stupid i literally love it

[vitrines]

every day i thank god that i wasn't on here to be annoying back in 2021

#to be clear. i WAS on here. and i WAS being annoying. #but from the privacy of no blog #anyone who had to listen to me rant about mcytblr discourse in 2021 irl cause i didn't want to fight people online: i am so sorry #and like now i see things like ships in the night and go Huh. okay #an interesting time for sure. shout out to a lot of you whose blogs i read like the morning newspaper at the time #mcy t discourse hit different #haterposting #not exactly. adjacent to haterposting kind of #i feel like an old scholar sometimes i see things and go ohhhhh.... oh right.... #anyone remember the second mcytblr elections. and the giant mess that was

[love-to-love-puppies]

Maybe this is an unpopular opinion but I would much rather have multiple shorter chapters than one 50 page chapter. It's just too long

#There are natural breaks in the chapters and you don't need to drag it on that long #it has me looking for the end of the chapter rather than enjoying reading it #my sweet spot is like 6-15 pages per chapter #but really it's just a matter of where the natural break is #I average about 7 pages per chapter--never fewer than 4--rarely more than 10 #as long as it's over 1000 words I think it's fine #like I said though this is just a personal opinion #some people are really against short chapters because they think it's too choppy #those people arguably shouldn't read my writing. I have a natural rhythm to my writing where I include some choppiness for effect #and I break up paragraphs more than chapters #I--as someone with ADHD--cannot read a giant block of text easily #Make it three paragraphs and we're just fine #same words just easier to read #and again not everyone agrees with this #but I don't write for everyone. I write for me #anywho this was mostly just a rant because the book I'm reading has MASSIVE chapters #that tbh could have benefitted from being broken up

[komaedian]

my boiler just died, the letting agency is closed all day and their emergency line doesn’t work, there’s literally no point to landlords

#can I get a ‘FUCK LANDLORDS’ in the replies #‘one benefit of renting is you never have to fix things yourself!!’’ #’the landlord will get it sorted immediately!’ #go fuck yourselves it’s -2 degrees and snowing where’s my hot water #my flat is owned by a giant company too like it’s not even some random guy #I should be able to phone them on a Sunday #I’m meant to be driving to my mam’s tomorrow at 5am but can’t go until I know they have a spare key to get in #which I don’t think they do cos they’re so so shit #driving to Scotland from here isn’t exactly a short trip I need to leave early 😭 I’m gonna have to delay by at least a day #if u r reading this thank u for seeing my angry rant I feel better now #still cold tho 😒 #not danganronpa

[unovasaved]

despite how often she seemed to visit him aboard the plasma frigate, and how often they’d bumped into one another during rosa’s adventures across unova, colress couldn’t help but find himself asking the same question he had asked her the second time they’d met—when he’d first introduced himself to her.

❝ rosa, ❞ he began, ❝ may i have a look at your pokémon? ❞

Is it better to liberate pokemon from man, to give them unfettered freedom to run the world as a force that man would someday be forced to stand in opposition against. Or was it better to work along side them. To use them and let them use you, to discover the hidden potential of man and pokemon alike. Years ago Rosa would not have thought of these options. She'd have fought for and blindly claimed that it was better to liberate pokemon, to let them live as freely as man did. But who ever said pokemon were not free? Simply because they worked along side man, who ever said freedom was only found in solitude? Was it not possible that pokemon could be free and live along side man. Perhaps freedom was not what others claimed for them but what they chose for themselves.

If Rosa hadn't met Colress all those years ago the thought never would have crossed Rosa's mind. Had she not heard his concepts on how man could bring out the potential of pokemon, she'd still be going around claiming to know what was best for all pokemon. Speaking without ever thinking on what she said. Never once questioning herself or what she believed in. Yet because she met him her world was changed, that black and white view she once held began to come into color. Revealing an entirely new world for her to learn from.

Rosa wanted to both thank him for all he’d done to change her life and hit him for it. He had changed her entire life without ever meaning too. By simply speaking his beliefs aloud he’d forced her world from something she could easily categorize as black and white to something far more gray. What she’d once thought of as so easy to understand now had different dimensions to them, different places she could view them from to learn from them. The world was no longer some one dimensional thing that she understood. In many ways she was incredibly grateful for this. But in many other ways she despised it. She no longer felt she understood the world she lived in. Her life in black and white had been drenched in color and now she was fumbling to understand it. How could she understand it when all she’d ever known was the two shades before? It was his fault, he had done this to her easy to understand world. She felt herself blaming him for taking her life and spiraling it far beyond her control.

That was not only unfair however but also wholly inaccurate. He had not taken her from the only life she had known before and abandoned her alone in an unfamiliar city. He had not build her up to see him as god only to then turn around and try to kill her as soon as she posed a threat. He had not made her think unfaithfully against her lord. Her mother had done that, the very lord she devoted herself too had done that, SHE had done that to herself. She had strayed from the path she’d been set upon and only had herself to blame for the consequences. All he had done was introduce new color to her life, what she did with this new addition to her life had been entirely on her. It was not fair to detest him, she knew this. The knowledge did not lessen her resentment. Nor did her resentment lessen the fondness she felt at the knowledge that her life had been changed for the better by having met him.

"Of course." Her hand reaches for the pokeball of her beloved companion Serperior. She can't hide the confident smile that spreads across her features. "But only if you show me the potential you've unlocked in your pokemon.”

It is a challenge not between enemies nor between friends. But between two people whose lives have been changed by knowing one another.

#❃ In Character ❃ #❃ Asks ❃ #V; Main #((HI THANK YOU FOR THE ASK #So like quick run down of my Rosa's views towards Colress #Colress honestly inspired Rosa a lot like he was one of the first people to make Rosa question what Team Plasma had taught her #His telling her of how humans bring out potential in pokemon inspired her to become a better trainer #which inspired her to study the behavior of pokemon more so she could better understand them #to work with them better on her team and to support them more outside of battle #Even her desire to study the behavior of pokemon was kind of inspired/spurred on by him and the machine he made to move the crustle #It's like what first got her interested to know what makes pokemon tic beyond what she has been told of them #Without ever intending too he REALLY inspired her to pursue science and understanding of the world around her #so Rosa is really grateful to him for that but also pissed because #life was easier when she felt she was being told what was best when she thought she knew #now she doesn't know what's right or wrong and it's like having to learn to live an entirely new life #So you know good bit of resentment for that and also a good bit more cause he helped Ghetsis who almost killed her #Like even knowing he wasn't entirely on Ghetsis' side it still kinda sucks knowing someone you really respect worked with the guy #who tried to turn you into an ice pop/stab you with a giant icicle #Alright rant over thx for reading my word vomit))

[gender-trash]

I would be very interested in hearing the museum design rant

by popular demand: Guy That Took One (1) Museum Studies Class Focused On Science Museums Rants About Art Museums. thank u for coming please have a seat

so. background. the concept of the "science museum" grew out of 1) the wunderkammer (cabinet of curiosities), also known as "hey check out all this weird cool shit i have", and 2) academic collections of natural history specimens (usually taxidermied) -- pre-photography these were super important for biological research (see also). early science museums usually grew out of university collections or bequests of some guy's Weird Shit Collection or both, and were focused on utility to researchers rather than educational value to the layperson (picture a room just, full of taxidermy birds with little labels on them and not a lot of curation outside that). eventually i guess they figured they could make more on admission by aiming for a mass audience? or maybe it was the cultural influence of all the world's fairs and shit (many of which also caused science museums to exist), which were aimed at a mass audience. or maybe it was because the research function became much more divorced from the museum function over time. i dunno. ANYWAY, science and technology museums nowadays have basically zero research function; the exhibits are designed more or less solely for educating the layperson (and very frequently the layperson is assumed to be a child, which does honestly irritate me, as an adult who likes to go to science museums). the collections are still there in case someone does need some DNA from one of the preserved bird skins, but items from the collections that are exhibited typically exist in service of the exhibit's conceptual message, rather than the other way around.

meanwhile at art museums they kind of haven't moved on from the "here is my pile of weird shit" paradigm, except it's "here is my pile of Fine Art". as far as i can tell, the thing that curators (and donors!) care about above all is The Collection. what artists are represented in The Collection? rich fucks derive personal prestige from donating their shit to The Collection. in big art museums usually something like 3-5% of the collection is ever on exhibit -- and sometimes they rotate stuff from the vault in and out, but let's be real, only a fraction of an art museum's square footage is temporary exhibits. they're not going to take the scream off display when it's like the only reason anyone who's not a giant nerd ever visits the norwegian national museum of art. most of the stuff in the vault just sits in the vault forever. like -- art museum curators, my dudes, do you think the general public gives a SINGLE FUCK what's in The Collection that isn't on display? no!! but i guarantee you it will never occur, ever, to an art museum curator that they could print-to-scale high-res images of artworks that are NOT in The Collection in order to contextualize the art in an exhibit, because items that are not in The Collection functionally do not exist to them. (and of course there's the deaccessioning discourse -- tumblr collectively has some level of awareness that repatriation is A Whole Kettle of Worms but even just garden-variety selling off parts of The Collection is a huge hairy fucking deal. check out deaccessioning and its discontents; it's a banger read if you're into This Kind Of Thing.)

with the contents of The Collection foregrounded like this, what you wind up with is art museum exhibits where the exhibit's message is kind of downstream of what shit you've got in the collection. often the message is just "here is some art from [century] [location]", or, if someone felt like doing a little exhibit design one fine morning, "here is some art from [century] [location] which is interesting for [reason]". the displays are SOOOOO bad by science museum standards -- if you're lucky you get a little explanatory placard in tiny font relating the art to an art movement or to its historical context or to the artist's career. if you're unlucky you get artist name, date, and medium. fucker most of the people who visit your museum know Jack Shit about art history why are you doing them dirty like this

(if you don't get it you're just not Cultured enough. fuck you, we're the art museum!)

i think i've talked about this before on this blog but the best-exhibited art exhibit i've ever been to was actually at the boston museum of science, in this traveling leonardo da vinci exhibit where they'd done a bunch of historical reconstructions of inventions out of his notebooks, and that was the main Thing, but also they had a whole little exhibit devoted to the mona lisa. obviously they didn't even have the real fucking mona lisa, but they went into a lot of detail on like -- here's some X-ray and UV photos of it, and here's how art experts interpret them. here's a (photo of a) contemporary study of the finished painting, which we've cleaned the yellowed varnish off of, so you can see what the colors looked like before the varnish yellowed. here's why we can't clean the varnish off the actual painting (da vinci used multiple varnish layers and thinned paints to translucency with varnish to create the illusion of depth, which means we now can't remove the yellowed varnish without stripping paint).

even if you don't go into that level of depth about every painting (and how could you? there absolutely wouldn't be space), you could at least talk a little about, like, pigment availability -- pigment availability is an INCREDIBLY useful lens for looking at historical paintings and, unbelievably, never once have i seen an art museum exhibit discuss it (and i've been to a lot of art museums). you know how medieval european religious paintings often have funky skin tones? THEY HADN'T INVENTED CADMIUM PIGMENTS YET. for red pigments you had like... red ochre (a muted earth-based pigment, like all ochres and umbers), vermilion (ESPENSIVE), alizarin crimson (aka madder -- this is one of my favorite reds, but it's cool-toned and NOT good for mixing most skintones), carmine/cochineal (ALSO ESPENSIVE, and purple-ish so you wouldn't want to use it for skintones anyway), red lead/minium (cheaper than vermilion), indian red/various other iron oxide reds, and apparently fucking realgar? sure. whatever. what the hell was i talking about.

oh yeah -- anyway, i'd kill for an art exhibit that's just, like, one or two oil paintings from each century for six centuries, with sample palettes of the pigments they used. but no! if an art museum curator has to put in any level of effort beyond writing up a little placard and maybe a room-level text block, they'll literally keel over and die. dude, every piece of art was made in a material context for a social purpose! it's completely deranged to divorce it from its material context and only mention the social purpose insofar as it matters to art history the field. for god's sake half the time the placard doesn't even tell you if the thing was a commission or not. there's a lot to be said about edo period woodblock prints and mass culture driven by the growing merchant class! the met has a fuckton of edo period prints; they could get a hell of an exhibit out of that!

or, tying back to an earlier thread -- the detroit institute of arts has got a solid like eight picasso paintings. when i went, they were kind of just... hanging out in a room. fuck it, let's make this an exhibit! picasso's an artist who pretty famously had Periods, right? why don't you group the paintings by period, and if you've only got one or two (or even zero!) from a particular period, pad it out with some decent life-size prints so i can compare them and get a better sense for the overarching similarities? and then arrange them all in a timeline, with little summaries of what each Period was ~about~? that'd teach me a hell of a lot more about picasso -- but you'd have to admit you don't have Every Cool Painting Ever in The Collection, which is illegalé.

also thinking about the mit museum temporary exhibit i saw briefly (sorry, i was only there for like 10 minutes because i arrived early for a meeting and didn't get a chance to go through it super thoroughly) of a bunch of ship technical drawings from the Hart nautical collection. if you handed this shit to an art museum curator they'd just stick it on the wall and tell you to stand around and look at it until you Understood. so anyway the mit museum had this enormous room-sized diorama of various hull shapes and how they sat in the water and their benefits and drawbacks, placed below the relevant technical drawings.

tbh i think the main problem is that art museum people and science museum people are completely different sets of people, trained in completely different curatorial traditions. it would not occur to an art museum curator to do anything like this because they're probably from the ~art world~ -- maybe they have experience working at an art gallery, or working as an art buyer for a rich collector, neither of which is in any way pedagogical. nobody thinks an exhibit of historical clothing should work like a clothing store but it's fine when it's art, i guess?

also the experience of going to an art museum is pretty user-hostile, i have to say. there's never enough benches, and if you want a backrest, fuck you. fuck you if going up stairs is painful; use our shitty elevator in the corner that we begrudgingly have for wheelchair accessibility, if you can find it. fuck you if you can't see very well, and need to be closer to the art. fuck you if you need to hydrate or eat food regularly; go to our stupid little overpriced cafeteria, and fuck you if we don't actually sell any food you can eat. (obviously you don't want someone accidentally spilling a smoothie on the art, but there's no reason you couldn't provide little Safe For Eating Rooms where people could just duck in and monch a protein bar, except that then you couldn't sell them a $30 salad at the cafe.) fuck you if you're overwhelmed by noise in echoing rooms with hard surfaces and a lot of people in them. fuck you if you are TOO SHORT and so our overhead illumination generates BRIGHT REFLECTIONS ON THE SHINY VARNISH. we're the art museum! we don't give a shit!!!

#so anyway i love going to art museums-- #the trashcan speaks #long post

[xreaderanonaccount]

Fatui Harbinger x GN!Reader Headcannon

Ships: Fatui Harbingers (minus Pucinella and Sandrone) x reader (poly)

Synopsis: What's it like being the Feared Fatui Harbingers darling?

Tags: Fluff, Crack, hugging, kissing, hand-holding

A/N: Just some random thoughts. I honestly think Sandrone would not have a S/O cause of her lore and how crazy she is. And Pucinella is just an old man.. hey not judging if that's your type. Just not mine

Divider credits: cafekitsune

Dating all the Fatui Harbingers is a full time job, not only are you being showered with Mora and gifts from some of the richest people in Teyvat you deal with all their petty drama.

Like a mother to all your boyfriends and girlfriends.

They come barging into your room ranting about what the other harbingers have done. How they “ruined” their plans. 

This mainly comes from Dottore and Pantalone. Sometimes one will come into the room and start ranting while the other is close behind. 

Pierro, Columbina, Arlecchino, and Capitano are the tamer of the bunch. If you need peace and quiet from the drama you go to them. They’ll shower you with kisses and treats to make you feel better.

But don’t get me wrong the other half would absolutely shower you with love… in their own weird twisted fates. 

Like dottore wouldn’t experiment on you but will weirdly give you a still beating heart claiming his undying love for you. 

Tartaglia would train you to fight because he wants you to fend for yourself (and to also spar with him much to Capitano’s dismay) 

During the fatui meetings they would have a special room setup for you with a little place to relax. 

And as soon as the meeting ends it’s kind of like school lunch where kids would run so fast to the lunchroom to be first in line. Like that but in a more calm manner. 

Except for Childe

He would be that kid that would run straight to the lunchroom. He would burst through the room scaring you to death yelling “BABE!” 

He would engulf you in a bear hug

It would take Capitano to take him off of you by how tight of a hold he has on you.

Dates with the Harbingers is always fun, whatever you want to do they would absolutely provide.

Want to go to an Opera? Pantalone has VIP tickets to the latest popular show.

Want to eat at a fancy restruant? Arlecchino reserved a whole restruant in Fontaine.

Want to just relax and read? Columbina would cuddle with you as she reads you a book

Want a nice stroll in the stormy winter? Capitano will walking with you, and he'll make sure you'll have his thick fluffy jacket swamping you.

Kisses are always fun, the variety of kisses you would recieve varies from mood and who is giving you the kiss.

Capitano and Pierro is always so soft and gentle, he's a big man and he doesn't want to hurt you. His lips always ghosting your skin, milimeters away from your lips. His giant bear hands gently cupping your face as he plants a gentle kiss.

The exact opposite of Dottore, that man will straight up bite you with his shark teeth.

Your lips will be bloodly and bruise when he's done with you. He's rough when he's kisses you.

He would forcefully grab your face with one hand and shove his lips on you. He wouldn't give a romantic kiss, never. But it's always one of greed and tension.

He's got some pent up anger he needs to release. And that just so happens to be your mouth.

Arlecchino is soft...ish. She would be soft but part of her would spice it up with fun.

Loves teasing you she would pretend like she was going to kiss you and but then suddenly pull away. Saying something like "oh someone needs me." Always has a shit eating grin on her face when she makes up some bull excuse.

Columbina and Childe is always a gamble, it would either be soft and tender or chaotic and rough. Really depends on what they are feeling.

Unless it's infront of his family, Childe would be all lovey dovey infront of his family. But would absolutely tease you when they're not looking

Pantalone is a no PDA guy in public except for his arm sling around your waist. Other than that kisses are only for the most intimate moments. When it's just you two, and no one else to disrupte them.

#genshin impact #fatui harbingers #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #alrecchino x reader #columbina x reader #capitano x reader

[tojivu]

# OFFICE HOURS ‣ GOJO SATORU

✰ — author’s note i feel so guilty bc gojo is literally the only character i write for LOL anyway this is an old draft from months ago. idk why this is so long im so horrendously down bad for this fucking snowman.

✰ — cw / tags arrogant ceo!gojo x secretary f!reader, sfw, not rly enemies to lovers bc gojo has fat feelings, gojo satoru being a billionaire playboy

✰ — playing death & taxes by daniel caesar.

✰ — word count ~3k LOL

nothing about gojo satoru really strikes you as the serious type.

even in a professional environment, your boss always has a carefree demeanour. his laugh is so nauseatingly loud that you can hear it from outside the office, and you wonder how someone as busy as him manages through his day; much less with a positive attitude. you take one look at his schedule, and you want to vomit with the way you hardly see any gaps between appointments.

you suppose you could learn that from him. it's his only good quality.

you admit that he's likeable, on surface level. there's a reason why you detest him, though: as his closest colleague, you know him way more than you would prefer. most people would think such a well to do man like satoru would have a wife by his side, but that's unfortunately not the case. you almost feel more miserable than him—because now you're forced to be the listening ear and comforting hand at his beck and call.

you think he'd be just fine if he was just a little more humble. he has a nice face. it's his fault for being so stuck up. you know how many women ask him out—painfully aware, actually.

'they just aren't suited to my taste,' he would say to you. 'i need someone that makes me feel alive.'

one time, gojo even asked you to bail him out of a date—something about the way she held her fork and knife disturbed him, and you were expected to show up at the restaurant and act as if there was an emergency.

'i'm so sorry, sweetheart. i have to go, duty calls.' his disgustingly charming tone made you want to slap him then and there.

she called him again the following week, and he completely forgot who she was. he didn't even save her number.

the sheer number of people asking him out had stroked his ego so hard that gojo firmly believes no woman is deserving enough. he rambles on and on to you about how snobby some of them seem, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue when he does. 'takes one to know one,' you would say, if not for your job at stake.

you think gojo satoru is full of himself. you are a strong believer of that. a witness, as well—it's not like he didn't try his way with you, too. unlike the women he ranted about, you turned him down every single time.

it's been a long while since any of that has happened, though. the most recent ordeal was months ago, but that didn't inherently mean that people stopped asking him out: it just meant that he was rejecting every single offer.

it's a thursday morning when you find yourself eating a sandwich you purchased on the way to work, at your desk—wondering when the big boss will finally arrive. the clock read 9 a.m., and you're expecting an extravagant "good morning!" to surprise you any moment now.

just then, you notice mr. conceited walk in: except something is different. he has no stride in his step. there was no good morning. there was no playful teasing directed at you as he walked past your desk and into his office, not that you were complaining—it was just strange.

you stand up, a mouthful of your sandwich still being chewed. you take a big sip of water and fix your skirt and blouse, making sure your hair is presentable—before swiftly making your way into his office.

──────

"i cannot believe this." he mumbles. you're standing in front of his desk, but he's not facing your direction.

gojo's chair is turned to the giant window that overlooks the business district, and he's gazing out of it thoughtfully. you think this is the cheesiest thing you've seen him do.

you can see how disheveled his hair was, even from where you were standing. you don't want to irritate him further, in case teasing you was still on his to-do list that day.

"what is it, mr. gojo?"

he swivels his chair around, and he is a mess—just what could have he been up to?

"i woke up late today."

"you're the boss, mr. gojo. you can come in any time you want—"

"not the point." he interrupts you. "i forgot my lunch. i was in the car, with the driver, on the way here already. . . and then i realised i left my donuts at home."

gojo's face is absolutely distraught. he looks like he's gone through a divorce and had his house set on fire with how he stands up dramatically—his hands now on his desk. you open your mouth to speak, but he shuts you up by talking again.

"i didn't want to inconvenience him. i'm too thoughtful, miss y/n."

you want to scoff, but you bite your tongue and hold back.

"so i got out of the car and ran back for it," gojo recounts. "i arrived home after the treacherous journey—only to discover that my donuts are gone."

you feign an expression of shock, just to humour him; he gives you an 'i know right' look, and continues his nonsensical story.

"the maids threw them away, miss y/n."

you can't help yourself: you let a small giggle slip through your lips. you quickly use your hand to cover your mouth, thinking of a quick excuse.

you cough. you pretend to, at least—but gojo satoru is not stupid.

no, maybe a little. though, not enough to be convinced of your terrible acting.

"nothing about this is funny."

you nod, looking down at the floor. "i apologise, mr. gojo, but it's just a few donuts. i'm sure someone in the office could fetch some for you."

"yes, i agree." he says, and you shift your gaze from the marble tiling of his office to his face. his hair is a mess, yes—but he still looks revoltingly handsome. his eyes are piercing through yours, and pieces of hair cover his face in just the right places.

you're staring a little too long and gojo finds his pulse quickening with the eye contact—but the spell he has you under is soon broken when he clears his throat.

you quickly look away, embarrassed that you were caught staring at your boss, by your boss.

"you'll pick some up for me, yeah?" his smooth and silky voice echoes through the empty space of his office.

you look at him again, and there's a gentle smile on his face; one you're all too familiar with.

you're aware of satoru's charismatic nature, his playboy-ish attitude, and all sorts of tricks he uses to make women fall head over heels for him. that didn't mean you were completely resistant to them, though—you find yourself playing with the sleeves of your blouse, your ears beginning to redden. "of course," is all you manage to say.

at least you were self-aware.

your mind was rational. should gojo satoru try to hit on you for the nth time—all it took was some self discipline to say no, and you'd like to think you had plenty.

you think the conversation is done with the way he doesn't speak another word, so you turn on your heels and make your way out of the office.

just as you touch the handle of the door, your boss adds: "i'll come with you."

you turn back to him, confused. you didn't need your boss babysitting you for a donut run, you knew his favourite flavours—it's all he ever insists on buying for lunch. "there's no need for that, mr. gojo."

satoru shakes his head in disapproval. "you don't even know my favourite flavours, miss y/n."

that was a blatant lie. he knew you knew. you were his personal donut grabber for a few months up until august, and it was only october. you suppose that it would've continued on if not for your complaints about the long lines in the morning.

nevertheless, you don't argue with him. gojo satoru was the type to get what he wants, when he wants, if he really wants it.

you smile at his disregard for the months you spent as his errand runner, and how idiotic the excuse he just used was. satoru knows he's lying through his teeth, and your smile makes him more nervous than your eye contact.

so nervous, in fact, that he takes back what he just said. "unless. . . you're fine by yourself."

you're surprised that gojo's confidence is dissipating, or that it could even fade at all. you can tell with the way he's avoiding your eye contact, exactly how you evaded his earlier—the red on the tips of his ears are much too obvious in contrast to his hair.

"i don't mind," you respond a bit too quicker than appropriate. "mr. gojo."

gojo curses himself mentally, thinking about how stupid he must sound. he's usually the one making people nervous, but he doesn't know why it's different when you look at him like that.

──────

the atmosphere is deafening in gojo's favourite bakery. you always knew he had a sweet tooth, so you expected his choice to be a spectacular one—and you weren't disappointed.

you had personally visited this bakeshop before, and the confectionery was truly as good as people made it out to be; it proved evident in the amount of people crammed into this small establishment. though, you can't tell if it was for the food or for your boss, with the way most pairs of eyes are turned in his direction.

you two spend a good five seconds looking at the menu before gojo states his order, which was exactly what you thought it would be—the lady at the cashier smiles a bit too long at satoru, before asking: "eating in?"

you want to open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it. "of course."

it was still very well your work day. he (or maybe you and him, considering you helped him plan seventy percent of his appointments) had a meeting in 3 hours to prepare for. you think this donut adventure is already unnecessary enough—but here he is, suggesting to waste even more time eating the donuts in the bakery itself.

"we have a meeting in a bit, though. you could eat it in your office."

he looks at you with a confused look, as if he forgot that there was a meeting at all—because he did forget. gojo gasps, turning back to the lady and retracting his previous statement.

──────

gojo eats his donuts agonisingly slow and no conversation is initiated.

you're alternating between staring at both your laptops and the swirls on the wooden desk, unable to say anything because you didn't plan for such an occasion: an eating donuts with your admittedly handsome boss that makes you nervous while simultaneously planning for an important meeting occasion.

"miss y/n, you should try some."

you shift your eyes from the table to gojo, and he's holding a small piece of his donut to your lips: the powdered sugar practically calling your name.

"it's fine, i ate earlier," you decline his generous offer. "you should eat."

"i'm not asking you to eat all of them, miss y/n." he smiles at you. "just a bite. it's really good, y'know."

you sigh, reaching for his hand to take it from him—but he swiftly pulls it away and shakes his head. "open your mouth."

you feel the tips of your ears burning, blood rushing to your cheeks and you wonder how the girls he takes out manage themselves when he's like this—you've worked with him for so long, yet you can't recall a time when his gaze wouldn't make you shudder.

you think you'd stutter if you spoke one more word to him, so you save yourself from the embarrassment and bare with his request.

he feeds you the piece of sugar-coated donut, and you're sure you have powder on the corners of your lips with how it's width barely fits into your mouth.

you chew and swallow, feeling the residue of sugar on your skin.

"do you have any tissues?" you ask him, a serious expression plastered onto your face.

gojo tries to suppress the chuckle itching to escape his throat—the sugar on your lips and cheeks catch him off guard, and after a few seconds he can't help but let a small laugh slip. you stand up from your chair, scanning the room for any boxes of tissues you could lay your hands on.

he stands up as well, shaking his head—still giggling.

"it's not funny," you frown, and the smile on his face only grows wider—you're too cute for your own good when you sulk. "stop laughing."

you're not sure if you want to punch him or let him giggle to himself. for some reason, seeing you embarrassed is a great cause of joy to him. you can't bring yourself to tell him to shut up; you always imagine doing just that, it's strange how you couldn't muster the courage just when you needed it most.

"it's quite funny," gojo's laughter eventually calms down.

he leans closer to you and his right hand gently holds the side of your jaw—he uses his thumb to gently wipe the sugar off your cheek, and then your lips. "i got it."

his thumb stays on your bottom lip after dusting the sugar away. his pupils are locked onto the surface of your lips, which were glossy in the harsh light of his office: they looked so soft.

before long, they trail up your face until he's looking directly into your eyes: and this time you're not nervous, you don't look away, and your heart is completely calm.

satoru's fingers are easy on your skin. he handles you like fragile glass, as if he doesn't want to break you: and it's the same for the way he looks at you. gentle.

you're reluctant to speak because the way satoru has his thumb on your bottom lip sends shivers down your spine. you feel breathless.

you don't want this feeling to leave, not just yet.

a few seconds of tension pass. his hand moves back to your jaw, and your nervousness returns when gojo satoru leans his tall figure even closer to you; his head tilting ever so slightly.

it's a random thursday morning when you discover a few more good qualities gojo satoru possesses: his lips and his hands. maybe the way he kisses, too—it's slow and precise, unlike his attitude. he tastes sickeningly sweet and it makes you want to savour this moment even more.

you promised yourself you wouldn't fall victim to gojo satoru. yet, you just can't pull away: instead finding yourself slithering your arms around his neck and your chest pressing against his.

gojo's hands are wandering down to your waist and he's desperate to have you as close to him as possible, showing in the way he tries to close the already small gap between you two.

it takes only a fraction of a second for a small thought to form in your mind: just how many women have been in this position?

you quickly forget about that thought, though—you think it's pointless to regret it now, gojo satoru kisses you too good to be full of remorse.

gojo thinks he could stay like this: kiss you all morning, afternoon and pay you overtime if it meant he could be this close to you for just a bit longer.

there's hints of neediness in gojo's touch—as if he'd been waiting for this forever, wanting to relish it before it ends. his few seconds of bliss don’t last very long though, because you're soon pulling away—gasping for air.

he sighs mockingly, his hands sliding down from your waist to your hips. "can't last longer than 10 seconds, miss y/n?"

of course he would say some cocky shit like that—you'd forgotten for a minute that this was the same, arrogant mr. gojo you always knew, and no kiss (however heavenly) was going to change that.

"i'm sorry that i don't go on dates with every man that breathes."

gojo smirks at you after you say those words. "come on. just because i go on dates with people, doesn't mean i kiss them like this."

"sure you don't." your jealousy shows a bit too much in your reply, and he finds himself smiling even harder.

"is someone jealous?" he teases you again, rubbing circles with his thumb against the flesh of your hips.

you feel flustered, knowing that you're definitely done for now—he saw right through you. "nobody is jealous, mr. gojo."

"stop it with the formality. just call me satoru."

"it's still office hours. it's only polite."

gojo rolls his eyes, sighing in the process. you grin a little at him, knowing that this was the first thing you denied him of today—complying with the donuts and the kissing was already spoiling him enough.

"then i suppose there's only after work," there's his nauseatingly charming voice again—low and smooth. he knows exactly what he's doing to you, and you know it too. "i'm off after 6."

you think long and hard about whether you want to be mean and add this to the list of things you've declined to do for him. the ratio was starting to get really unbalanced—but you remember the way his hands touch you and how his lips greet yours so lovingly: and you think that there's no point turning back now.

"my boss doesn't let me off until after 8, though." you try to poke at his buttons—you put on a fake pout, knowing you’ll accept his invitation anyway—but gojo satoru is eternally patient when it came to things he sincerely desired.

"fuck your boss." he says, "he'll be fine with it."

you laugh at his response. you never thought you would see the day gojo curses at himself, after all, he's so self-obsessed: but you suppose you've seen—and tasted—parts of him that you never knew existed.

"then i'll see you at 6, mr. gojo."

what was the harm in discovering more?

230323 — i kinda hate this but.. wtv… anyway i couldn’t be bothered to proofread have my brainrot of gojo in a suit Mmmm yumyum

#jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagine #jjk imagines #gojo imagine #gojo imagines #gojo x y/n #gojo x you

[achelouise]

Lies, mysteries, and tricks

Fandom: Honkai Starail

Pairing: Sunday/Gen!reader, MENTIONED Gallagher/reader

Warnings: Spoilers for 2.1! Very toxic, from both sides, I think? Maybe OOC Sunday.

Summary: You learn about Robin's death, and rush to console Sunday. He isn't the thing you should be worrying about, though.

A/N: It's been a while! Came back to write this, because I couldn't stop thinking about this idea. It's rushed, and it's not really well-written, and it's short. Please forgive me~ (I am obsessed with Gallagher rn, so if anyone has any ideas I would love to hear and write about them :D (I still don't know how to properly use tumblr btw))

“Sunday? Are you in there?”

No answer. You drum your fingers against your sides nervously.

“Sunday, can we talk? Please?”

Still no answer. Your heart beats widely in your chest.

You ignore your thunderous heart as you slowly push the doors of the mansion open. The creaking doors echo and bounce along the empty halls, revealing a giant room, devoid of any light. A luxurious bed, dorned with lights and gems and painted with beautiful colors, is tucked away at the very side of the room. Sunday’s bedroom.

The factions had established that, other than the man himself, Sunday’s blood-related family, along with his spouse, would have access to it. Sunday himself had no permission to grant access to anyone, so you are surprised when the bellhop simply glanced at you and let you in without protest.

You could only guess it was because you two were close friends, and they were used to seeing you enter the Pavilion as children. Still, to enter his bedroom must be a breach in security…

But he wasn’t in any other room you could find. Time was slipping, lives were being lost, and you needed to find him. Fast.

You’re not exactly in the know. Most things you know, only Gallagher has told you. But you know full well that Sunday needs support.

“Sunday, please. I know I haven’t visited in… a while. I know what happened, and I’m sorry. Let’s work this out together. Don’t run away. Please?”

Only your echoes answer.

You were rambling to yourself at this point, desperation climbing further and further up to your chest. You have seen what Sunday does when he loses those he loves- and you want to help him. You don’t ever want to see him like that again. Never again.

You glance at the papers scattered on his desk. Maybe they have some information on where he went. He likes to rant in diaries.

You close your eyes, and pray to whatever Aeon you follow.

Forgive my sins for ever trespassing privacy to this extent. 

You don’t exactly have a clear mind when you start to rummage through the papers that endured wear and tear. You start to read some.

How could she do this?

It’s fine. It’s fine. Itsfineitsfineitsfineitsfineitsfine

Robin. Dear Aeons, Robin. 

When I find the traitor I will make them pay in blo o d 

Please don’t leave me please

Please please please please pleasepleas  e 

Your stomach drops. Poor Sunday.

Something else catches your eye, though. A soft reflection of a photo, pinned at the corner of the widespread desk. You lean over to take a good look at it.

You bite your lip so hard it nearly breaks skin. But even that dulls in comparison to the piles and piles of photos- all of them just you and Gallagher.

There are a wide range of those photos; from you two sitting across each other in the Dreamjolt Hostelry, to your hands linked together, faces flushed and smiles bright. All of them, with Gallagher’s face crossed out with glaring, red circles.

How dare he HOW DARE HE HOW DARE HE

HE DID IT  HE KILLED HER   HE TOOK HER   I WILL MAKE HIM PAY

The words are jagged and rough, as if he had barely managed to carve it out with his bare hands. It is a gigantic contrast to the sweet and elegant cursives he writes in his letters to you. It almost made you believe it wasn’t even Sunday who wrote this.

But you’re not stupid. You swallow the bile down your throat as your stomach churns with heightened fear and uncertainty. Sunday is a clever man, which makes him infinitely more dangerous.

Admittedly, he is far more unhinged than the public understands. You’ve never had a problem with it- only crazy can recognize crazy, and that was probably how he uncovered the plan of that gambler.

This doesn’t work in your favor, though. You don’t want to know what it means when he directs this insanity towards you.

You turn to leave.

“Ah, you found me.”

A hand shoots out to grip your arm, and you have no time to react. Shock, as quick as it comes, is slow to settle down. You try to scream.

“Oh Triple-Faced Soul, please seal this traitor's tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that the traitor will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows.”

No.

Your whole body goes cold. You feel it- the soft waves of Harmony pulsing in your head, trapping your tongue and seeing through your eyes. You had seen its effect- seen how it slaughters and breaks those who disobey. But to receive this kind of treatment yourself…

You finally process the dangerous situation you’re in, and wrench free from his grasp. You regain your stance as you stumble backwards, a question on the tip of your tongue. “Why?”

Sunday looks… off. His clothes are askew, his eyebags more apparent without the illusion of Harmony, and a smile, out of place and out of his mind. He chuckles, far too gentle, so much so that it sends shivers down your spine.

“You know how this goes, don’t you?” he coos, berating and condescending. “Answer my questions truthfully, or suffer the rejection of the Harmony.”

“Why would I ever lie to you?” you ask, “What is there even to ask?”

His eye twitches. His voice drops an octave, laced with poison and jealousy. “You know perfectly well what I mean.”

He breathes in, regaining his footing as the questions begin. “Are you interested in Gallagher? Is he interested in you?”

You think of him. A few hours ago, he insisted he came along to find Sunday with you. You’re starting to regret that decision. “Yes- and, I… I think so.”

Sunday tsks. “Do you know what he is? What it is?”

You cross your arms. “No. He is not human, but I am not exactly a young damsel in distress myself.”

“Do you not understand? That that man is nothing but a memetic entity, with thousands of truths woven together as a lie? Do you not know that the man you hold hands with killed Robin in cold blood? Why would you want to be with a foul beast like him?”

You are taken aback at the venom in Sunday’s tone. He isn’t even hiding it anymore. His breathing is ragged, and his eyes are blown wide.

“I… didn’t.” you admit, far too overwhelmed by his genuine frustration to confirm the validity in his claims.

Sunday suddenly withdrawals, as if sensing he has taken you off guard. He draws himself to his full height, casting a shadow with the light outside in the halls. The pulses in your head die out, as if they were never there.

“You are being tricked, dearest. He is not the man you think he is. He is a monster, a murderer, that serves under a shameful stain. Join me, in the pursuit of the Watchmaker. We can make all of them pay in blood.”

He rants, and you feel your heart sink. He is unstable because of this recent loss, but he has clearly not lost his mind. There is still rhyme and reason to what he does.

“My past? Hah, let’s not get into that just yet. I’ll tell you- someday.”

You glance down at the hand he offers you. His gaze is tender, but far too fragile. His lips are quivering, a silent plea.

You want to reject him. You want to scream at him, punch him, and run away, as far as possible. Gallagher had promised he would explain himself one day, and you had not mentally prepared yourself to know.

But given the unstable state he was in, it is unwise to simply respond with violence.

You reach out for his hand- only for a blade, dark and violet laced with gold, piercing from his stomach. Blue liquid pours from his gut, and this time, you truly do scream.

You don’t hear anything. The withdrawal of the blade is defeated by the look of despair and shock in Sunday’s eyes. He reaches for your hand, in a blind desperation- only to dissipate at the softest graze into a sea of bubbles.

Your heart thunders in your ribcage. A silent dread washes over you, and you hear your breaths grow shorter.

A lighter goes out.

Strong, warm arms envelop you. 

A voice, low and gruff, tells you that it’s going to be okay. The voice hovers over your ear, gentle and sweet, almost fabricated to ghost over your ear in a way you can’t refuse. You don’t respond, though, as you feel a sharp cut to your neck, and you’re out like a light.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr gallagher #hsr sunday #sunday x reader #sunday x you #gallagher x reader #gallagher x you #hsr gallagher x reader

[flamingpudding]

I had a crack idea that I was thinking of so you know in Dan is Klarion au I was imagining a au based off of that one where all of Danny's children are Klarion is like the robin thing for Batman it started off with Danielle when nabu insulted Danny as the Ghost King and Balance

Ever since Ellie decided that she needed to get back in blood so she made the chaotic antihero Klarion and and her suppose it familiar 'cat' Teekl the way to help out her mother and mess with Dr Fate/Nabu Teekl is actually a bear with an illusion on that makes him look like a cat in the human's eyes

Whatever since the anti-hero Klarion in The Phantom family has been passed down each of them giving their own flair to the persona of Klarion with a different animal every time that they had pretending to be a cat

Tell her to finally passed on to Dan it is an honorary sibling thing each of them has their own antihero name once they passed down the title of Klarion

Diana's query and takes after his father's style of dressing and his tickle is a phoenix

First of Thanks for the Ask! Inspirational as always! Helps with my writers block [insert awkward laugh]

Either way because this is split in two asks... you get two version! One focused on how it started and the other on the reveal! Though the might be some little Shorts... Also there is something really funny to me about a giant bear letting Illusionen into a cat... So Enjoy!

(BTW still thinking over the other ask... and working on it don't worry!)

------------------

Ellie huffed as Danny reprimanded her for her actions. She just huffed crossing her arms. She was just helping Danny. Her mom got a lot on his shoulders and she as the sort of oldest saw that the best. Sure technically Dan was older then her but, he shrunk down to kid level again and now she was the oldest.

Well if she ignored her other brothers but they were only saved recently and still in treatment with Frostbite. So she was the oldest. End of story.

"Ellie you can't just go off like that you know that messing with an Ancient is not-"

"Mom, That Nabu-Guy was being a pain in the a- " - "Ellie!" - "A PAIN, babbling on to much about Order here Order there. How keeping Balance means keeping Order and bla bla bla!" She cut in stopping her mom before he could go on another rant about the Ancients, she needed to treat with respect.

"He doesn't respect you, the Ancient of Balance! You are the literal Symbol of Balance between Life and Death! Aside from being the Ghost King. So of course I had to mess with the one HE mentors!" Ellie added huffing as she crossed her arms.

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ellie, you created an entire alternate persona!"

"Yea so?"

"You used an illusion spell on Fluffels!"

"And? Any good Anit-Hero needs a Mascot." Ellie shrugged once more looking up at her mom before looking over to Fluffels, her pet ghost grizzly that was pretty much double maybe even tripple her size and the fluffiest ghost grizzly you could find in the entire Ghost Zone, and the cutest.

Danny on the other hand groaned, wondering if he had done anything wrong while raising Danielle. Sure he had been a teen himself but good damit why the hell did Ellie decided messing with the Ancient of Order or rather his mentee was a good idea. "I am calling Jazz! You can explain to her what you were thinking!"

He was definitely to overworked and stressed to deal with Ellies mischievousness right now. Well she did call her alternate persona Klarion, Lord of Chaos. Nope! He was not dealing with this right now, so Danny did the sanest thing he could think of. Turning on his heel and walking away. Where to? Who cares maybe he would check in with his old man Clockwork and see what Ellie had actually been up to, instead of just reading through Nabu's complains.

Ellie on the other hand blinked watching her mom leave before calling after him. "Does that mean I have to stop, being Klarion?"

"Mom?!"

"MOM!"

------------------

"Well hello my lovely Amadillos! Long time not seen!"

Ellie shouted cheerfully as she twirled into appearing hair styled into a horn like form, black suit and she might have over done it a little with the black eyeliner but hey it was an iconic look wasn't it. She smirked as Fluffles growled which translated into a meow for the mortals before her thank to the illusion spell.

The mortal teen looked up at her surprised as she floated down her hand glowing with red ectoplasm (a color change from her usual green ectoplasm that had taken a while to learn from Pandora). Young Justice was currently transporting something of interest to her. Well of Interest for the Justice League, really but Doctor Fate was involved which meant Nabu was involved, which naturally meant she would get involved. It didn't hurt that she would also get to try to try some new tricks.

"You got something interesting there... and I want that." She grinned. Ellie didn't give them long before she acted using the new tricks she had learned.

"Woah! Hey there, watch the pointy and sharp thowies!" She laughed making a quick shield as she blocked some batarangs and arrows before blinking.

"Hey they look different. Robin, did you change equipment? Did you get a new haircut too?" She asked curious but didn't really receive an answer as they ignored her questions and shouted something about distracting her while the others continue the transportation. Still she bend down to pick one of them up twirling it between her fingers. "What gives didn't they have a different design before?"

In hindsight it was probably not a good idea to just abandon her original goal but Robin was making her curious. And she could always find a different way to mess with Nabu. Her mom had given her an indirect okay years ago anyway.

"Teekl!" She called out and only her eyes could see how Fluffles jumped at the call growling in response as he swatted away some of the more annoying Young Justice kids. To the mortals it probably looked like Teekl was using ectoplasm, or well magic, in their eyes.

She used that change to go up into Robins face smirking widely as she looked at the other more closely, trying to get a read on him. "You are different! You aren't the same Robin I meet before!"

She ducked in time avoid Superboy as she hopped back excited with a new idea for her family.

But first she would have to deal with the little chaos and mischief she was creating.

------------------

".....and that is how I learned that the Robin title is getting passed down. So I was thinking of doing the same!" Ellie broadly stated looking at all her younger siblings before her. "We all get pretty annoyed with the way Nabu treats Mom so there always has to be a Lord of Chaos to 'balance' Nabu out!"

She grinned at her siblings expecting the same kind of excitement she had and they didn't disappoint. Danny had been there for all of them, even going so far as in to find a way with Clockwork to save some of their lives. So of course they all would jump at the change to mess with the one Ancient that was badmouthing their Mother just because Balance didn't entitle Order the way they wanted.

After all Chaos was needed to Balance Order out.

This was going to be fun...

[Follow up part Linked here]

#dp x dc #dpxdc #danny fenton #danny phantom #dcxdp #ellie phantom #dan phantom #klarion the witch boy #crossover #dick grayson #tim drake #dc robin #Klarion is a title passed down like Robin #Ellie created the first Klarion #dc Nabu #doctor fate #mom danny #ghost king danny #Ellie is the first Klarion #Like Dick was the first Robin #she got the idea of passing down Robin after meeting Tim!Robin #Originally it was just to mess with the Ancient of Order #part 1

[slayedthedaybae]

Once saw a pjo Fan comment that Ares was Zeus favourite son because of trials of Apollo and I died inside a little bit. So enjoy my rant about it

1. Apollo in nearly every single myth is described as his dads favourite. No beating around the bush that’s his favourite son (and highly likely child).

2. The Iliad (basic Greek mythology reading) has Zeus tell everyone in the council that Ares is his least favourite child (most likely in all the Gods too)

3. Ares is incredibly loyal to his mother and through many texts (that aren’t biased towards Athena) is seen to love his siblings a whole lot, no matter what his mother says about them. In the myth of him getting abducted by the twin giants who were threatening to r@pe his mother and sister (Artemis) and to force them to marry them. Ares was angered by this and scared for this and tried to fight them by himself leading to his capture, torture and in some tales even r@pe until Hermes rescued him

4. He is the only God (in my memory) to not have ever sa ANYONE. Every single relationship was consensual and is the only man in his family to ever do so with Zeus, Hermes, Hephaestus, Apollo, Hades, Poseidon and Dionysus all having sa people

5. One thing that boils my blood the most though in pjo is his treatment of his children. Ares was despised by his father and his mother put a lot of pressure on him to be perfect for her legacy, causing him to act out a lot and be perceived as vicious and brutal. In every myth though he never wanted his children to feel the same way he did and was apart of every single one of his child’s life.

Hope you enjoyed my rant!!!! And if not well then idk what you want from me

#hyperfixationstation101 #greek mythology #ares #ares x aphrodite #percy pjo #pjo series #pjoverse #pjo ares #hephaistos #apollo deity #toa apollo #hades #artemis #athena #zeus #hera goddess #dionysus #mini rant #HE WAS DONE SO DIRTY FOR WHAT #jason grace #just bc I love him #hoo

[jeannineee]

hello! I was wondering if you could write about the bat boy's love language and how their mate finds out about it. I'm so sure Azriel's would be touch, even if he denys it a hundred times over 😂

The batboys’ love languages…

a/b: requests are open!!!!

warnings: suggestiveness, but that’s it

Rhysand

This male loves words of affirmation.

Tell him how much you love him, how much he means to you

Remind him that he’s a good person

Once, you left him a sweet note on the nightstand before leaving for work

You didn’t leave your bedroom the next day

Going back on the note thing, Rhys saves everything you write for him, so he can look back at it when he’s feeling down on himself :(

Especially after he’s been in the Hewn City. He needs the reassurance that he’s not the evil man that most of Prythian thinks him to be

Your words glue him back together

Cassian

I think he’s big on quality time.

He likes being near you; in your presence.

Sitting next to you at dinners and meetings, training with you, showering with you

He’d be perfectly content sitting in the living room with you, reading over a war strategy book while you rant about your latest romance novel

He doesn’t like being away from you.

He is CLINGY don’t fight me on this.

This giant Illyrian warrior is equivalent to a koala when he has to be away from you for extended periods of time.

He craves your presence constantly.

Azriel

Say it with me: PHYSICAL TOUCH

I do not CARE that he is reserved and doesn’t generally touch people.

It’s reserved for his mate 😐

He was so deprived of affection as a boy. It’s all he wants, now. But he’ll NEVER admit it out loud.

Even if it’s just your legs touching as the two of you sit together, or intertwining your pinkies as you walk the streets of Velaris, he HAS to be touching you.

He loves cuddling you, kissing you, just FEELING you.

Not big on PDA, but behind closed doors? He is all over you.

You touch keeps him grounded.

#acotar #acotar headcanon #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #Azriel #rhysand #Cassian acotar #acotar Cassian #Cassian x reader #rhysand x reader #acosf #acowar #acofas #acotar fluff

[faeiri-tft]

PLEASE do the toontown online rant i want it so badly

this post kinda got away from me, and by "got away from me" i mean this 3000 word toontown rant is Part One. there will be a Part Two to this later in which i actually talk about the fanservers i wanted to talk about. anyway let's go

toontown online (tto) was a children's mostly-turn-based subscription MMO released in 2003. after a few years of obviously being on life support, disney gave a one-month notice that tto (and several other games) would be closing on september 19th, 2013. on the same day the game closed, the fan-run server toontown rewritten (ttr) was announced (with multiple other fanservers/fangames/reimaginings being established since), and is a few months away from outliving the original game

see, one thing about tto that allowed fanservers to crop up so quickly and easily was that it had, um, interesting choices. very interesting choices. like, "kids could use a code injector to turn their backyards into giant mashed-together nightmarescapes"-level choices

(loose video description: a rabbit toon running around a chaotic mismash of rooms, obstacles, and npcs that Should Not Be There. audio caption: Evanescence's "Bring Me To Life".)

but ok let's talk about the actual game first.

toontown online (tto)

the game starts with you creating your player character - you can pick from eventually-9 species, a couple body types, and 2 dozen preset colors. the gender code is a spaghetti nightmare but you won't learn this until the fanservers come about so don't worry about it. you're then taken to the Toontorial, which explains maybe 20% of the game's mechanics before setting you loose into the main game

the toontorial also gives you the basic "plot", such as it is: Toontown is suddenly* under attack by a bunch of boring businessrobots called the Cogs. their goal is to turn toontown into a dreary gray featureless corporate hell; their business activities are so boring that they're physically painful to be around. luckily, they can't take a joke, so the toons have figured out how to defeat them: by playing pranks on them until they laugh so hard they Explode

*originally, the game installer had a little animation giving a backstory for the Cogs' creation. this was never referenced in game, removed pretty quickly, and i think even the devs kinda forgot it existed

that's...pretty much the whole story! in that context, your toon progresses through all of toontown, helping some mostly-pretty-interchangeable shopkeepers, reclaiming buildings from the cogs, eating ice cream, etc. occasionally, the cogs would Come Up With New Tricks (read: major content update) and the toons would Find A Way To Fight Back (read: same major content update). that was the closest thing to Plot, unless you count "the devs scheduled a bunch of invasions of high-tier cogs right before the game's closure". but...i doubt most the kids really expected a Plot. mickey mouse was there

the gameplay:

the Free Account

there were two...pretty different approaches to playing toontown online. when the game launched, there was a 3-day free trial to the entire game, after which you got kicked entirely until you subscribed. at some point, this was changed so that the first area, Toontown Central (TTC), was Always Free - you could do all of that area's quests/"taskline" and limited activities, indefinitely, and in theory this would make you beg your parents for the rest of the game

i have no idea if this actually got more subscriptions or not. from what i can tell it just spawned more warrior cats

(source)

there were. a Lot of warrior cats. there were some other social activities, too, such as Fashion Shows (with your limited range of clothes) and Begging Subscribed Players To Summon Cog Buildings To TTC and Getting Chat Banned. ...however, as one of the subscription kids i didn't really interact with this side of the game, so i'm not the best person to talk about it

2. the Paid Account

mmm look at those crisp clear graphics. hell yes

a subscription account gave you access to this whole map, along with all these areas' tasklines. to progress through the game, you must complete a variety of "ToonTasks" for the Toon Resistance (it's called that. their catchphrase is "Toons of the World, Unite!". you were giving disney money for this). these reward you by increasing your max health (your "Laff Points"), slowly unlocking more combat options, and sending you to different, higher-difficulty areas of toontown

some of these tasks were...longer than others. generally, though, they all boiled down to: "just go fight some cogs"

combat:

(source)

toontown battles are turn-based: the players use their attacks ("gags") first, and then any surviving cogs attack you with, usually, office equipment and puns thereof (unless the cog is e.g. a Loan Shark, in which case they can just fucking bite you). if you defeat a cog, it explodes; if the cog defeats you, you "go sad" and are sent back to the safety of the playground, lose your gag inventory, and can't leave until you heal.

early on, most your battles are 1v1, but later on almost everything is a multiplayer 4-ish-v-4.

an...interesting feature here in the game's early days was that you could only Type Your Own Words to someone who shared their "friend code" with you IRL. otherwise, you had to use this thing:

(source)

you had a set list of phrases you could string together, which generally covered most the things you wanted to say. but it could get frustrating when you wanted to have a real conversation with your toontown friends! so...as the source above mentions, people obviously found ways around the system. turns out that if you let players move objects around their houses, they will use that to Draw Letters and pass their friend code along regardless

eventually - before the warrior cats, of course - disney presumably realized this system was pretty goofy (🥁) , so the game got a real chat, albeit one that functioned on a very strict whitelist. my favorite is that it didn't let you type numbers, however you could just say won too tree for hive etc. like. disney i really don't know what to tell you. anyway

(isn't he charming)

cogs come in levels 1-12, with levels displayed above their heads, and as you'd expect their damage output and HP increase with their level. however, the game doesn't...actually show you cog HP? instead they have a little colored light on their chest that fades from green to red until they explode. you see numbers on all the damage you do, and you see your own HP/laff, but never the cogs'. also lategame cogs are Too Tall For You To See Their Level once they line up for battle (which isn't actually that bad but it's funny). there's a formula for HP per level, but it's never mentioned in-game. i guess someone can teach it to you but then you have to watch them type "a level tin cog has won tree too health" and is that really worth it

(as you can tell i just…don't get this. "my kid is practicing arithmetic with toontown!" - marketing angle expressly denied by god. the stealth edutainment was right there)

anyway! in theory, you have seven base combat options ("gag tracks"), which combine in a variety of ways:

toon-up, which restores your teammates' health;

trap, which does guaranteed high damage but only if someone uses lure;

lure, which stuns the cogs for a few turns and is the only way to make trap work

sound, which does low damage to every cog;

throw, which does medium-high-ish damage to one cog; multiple throws combined give percentage combo damage, and hitting a lured cog will also add percentage "knockback damage";

squirt, which is exactly like throw but less damage;

and drop, which does high damage but cannot hit lured cogs, and has low accuracy unless you hit the cog with something else first

each gag track has 6 levels, which you unlock by using that gag track a bunch. you can't carry as many of the high levels with you - i mean, putting one piano in your backpack makes perfect sense, but two is just silly, right

a few years into the game's lifespan, level 7s were added - these were huge AOE that you could regain with every 500 track EXP. there was also something called "organic gags" to promote the please-log-in-every-day gardening system

every player starts with throw and squirt, and throughout the game you slowly unlock four more gag tracks. your choices are permanent: once you have your six tracks, you're locked out of the seventh forever.

in theory, all of this opens up a huge variety of combat options!

in practice, the battle strategy looks something like this:

use sound

as mentioned, almost all of lategame will be 4v4 battles, which means sound will almost always outdamage everything on earth. you don't even need four foghorns (the highest normal sound gag) to break 200 AOE damage, and the highest health a cog EVER has is 200*. and two of the boss battles can reward you with gag restocks and heals that you can use mid-battle with no consequences (other than having to grind for those rewards a bunch). and failing THAT, you can just...ration your foghorns and take 2 turns to clear a set of cogs, interspersed with healing.

(*okay there was something called "v2.0 cogs" but they were...strange, and we just used sound anyway)

sure, once level 7s were added you could use those occasionally. and you could fall back on lure+throw if you didn't want to use your sound restocks. but even then, for most of tto's existence there was something called the "knockback bug" which. well. just look at it

(link for transcript. it's tvtropes sorry)

if you are a target-audience eight-year-old this translates to "lure + throw will only do enough damage if the cogs Feel like it." like it's really just insult to injury at this point. this was the result of One misplaced variable and was not fixed until the game closed

in the tto era, if you didn't have sound, you were kinda doomed to be kicked out of every fight forever

(bonus fun fact: there were Four entire battle themes and they were 40-second midi loops. let me out)

the bosses:

each of the four cog departments has a Boss Cog. to face off against them, you have to assemble a cog disguise and collect enough merits/stock options/whatever to be allowed into the boss's office.

(pictured: your convincing disguise)

when you enter, your disguise pops off due to Reasons, and you have to fight through...a bunch of waves of normal cogs. it's basically a really long normal battle. once the minions are dealt with, you have to, inexplicably, do a live-action battle against the boss themself:

(loose video description: four toons defeating the CFO by using magnet cranes to hit him in the face with safes for 32 seconds.)

the live-action rounds aren't supposed to go this quickly, but it's still...kinda strange? certain reoccurring game areas require Parkour, but there are no battles like this outside of the Four bosses. the CFO's room is the only place you see these cranes and they have A Lot Going On. the other 3 bosses have their own unique weird mechanics. before the first boss was added we neither had nor needed the ability to Jump. it's just weird

once you've defeated the boss, you're given a reward of varying usefulness (the best/most unbalanced reward type is Unites, which are a free heal or gag restock you can do inside or outside of battle. essentially lategame toons can simply choose not to die. riv2u etc.)

and, um. then you get some more merits/stock options/whatever and do it again. and again. and again. and again. and agai

the grind:

so the thing is that tto was a subscription mmo. every addition to the game had to be measured, above all, in terms of "how can we best get kids to beg their parents to give us money." this especially shows in the suit grind:

(source/source)

you have to defeat each boss 78 times in order to get all their laff points - and as you proceed, you have to defeat an increasing amount of cogs to even be allowed into the boss (although once you max you get in for free).

by far the easiest way is to run through the designated HQ facilities - basically, cog fights interspersed with some platforming or minigames. you only collect your merits/whatever at the Very End of the facility. the only way to increase what a facility gives you is if your last battle ends during an "invasion" - a timed period where One Specific Cog replaces all street cogs, usually summoned with boss rewards.

the sellbot HQ grind isn't so bad. bossbot HQ - the endest-game HQ - frequently requires you to do an hour-long facility and on six separate occasions you have to do seven of them. if the invasion ends before your final battle, you have to sit around until someone summons another. if you lose your internet connection because it's 2008, or if your parents make you come to dinner, or if hacking or the game's general bugginess cause a server reset because you're probably in the busiest district for the invasion bonus, you have spent that Entire Hour On Nothing. the CEO (bossbot cog boss) probably also takes an hour because you and your fellow players are 10

this shit, combined with laff points locked behind gardening (time-gated), racing and golfing (multiplayer minigames with absurd requirements), and fishing (RNG-based with some fish being absurdly rare. i watched my mom fish for one every day for a month), meant that maxing a toon took Years, if you managed it ever.

it wasn't, um. it wasn't good

ok so what else is wrong with this game:

i had "aged out of the game" (lol) by the early '10s, so i'm not the best person to do a writeup of the hacking/scripting situation of those days. that said, what i'm going to do is give you a few examples, and i want you to just...look at them

(source)

(source). early '10s youtube was funny i'm trying to decide if i miss it

(source). fun thing to note here is that other players had collision, so a swarm of t-posing toons could just barricade the gag shop if they wanted to

(video description: toon who has Replaced His Head Model With An Anime Logo throwing thousands of jellybeans at everyone) (cw mild flashing just in case? and also the feather headband accessory)

i should note that the Bring Me To Life vid i started with was client-side, meaning only the player could see their technicolor hellscape. this guy's face was server-side. i do Not Think you should be able to do that

(video description: a player demonstrating use of a bot to get into the nutty river district, followed by other players using it to go to different game areas)

the above video was posted on august 17th, 2013. if you don't want to watch an Unregistered Hypercam 3 recording at about 5 frames per second, what's going on here is:

the player goes to a specific location and says a specific speedchat phrase.

a bot toon teleports to their location and provides some prompts on how to use it

the player tells the bot, via speedchat, to teleport to the (currently closed from the outside) busiest district so the player can follow

these "taxi toons" were server-sided, persisted across server resets, were made by a future fanserver dev, had younger kids referring to them as a "glitch" as if this were something that could Accidentally Happen, and stayed functional until the game closed

like...a lot of the "hacking" was just baby's first script download. this one - afaict also created by the laughing man head guy - is like...the fact that after years of no substantial game updates, someone effectively programmed their own "QOL feature" (note: not actually good for the poor mid-00s server being turned into a clown car) into a silly disney MMO and it just fucking sat there for a year is just. it's just.

i don't know what this is. this is not Playing The Game Toontown Online. this is nothing. this is everything. there are comments from 2013 on some of these videos saying stuff like "hackers killed toontown", but your game cannot have this happen if it is not already dying

and, like...it was. i'm not sure how many moderators there were by this point, but at the very end of tto, the number of active devs was One. the original devteam recently brought this up at the 20th anniversary celebration: devs just...slowly started getting pulled from the game, one at a time. there were a few updates after bossbot HQ - Field Offices, which i've basically never heard anything good about in their tto form ever; the Silly Meter, a yearly event...thing whose main function was to add unskippable dancing-inanimate-object cutscenes to your street battles; Parties, which...yknow parties were okay actually. i accept parties. but they weren't exactly a Major Game Update like the ones that had come before. in 2011 we gained the ability to Wear Hats. in 2012 the test server got some actual QOL updates that never made it to the main game; the final test server update was some maintenance in february, and then nothing for 18 months. disney was not providing enough resources to address the scripting because disney was not providing enough resources to address toontown. imagine being the last dev standing on an MMO that was older than some of its players, was losing its business model to mobile gaming, and spent most of its life falling apart at the seams. just imagine it, for a second

it couldn't have kept going, not like this.

on august 20, 2013, the closing announcement came: we had a month left of toontown online. the test server shut immediately; subscription refunds went out, and the game became actually F2P for the month; the part of the announcement that went like "we're shifting our focus to other games!" made a bunch of twelve-year-olds hate club penguin as if club penguin wouldn't also close in a few years; all the holiday events went off at once; and...

there wasn't a "thanks for playing!" popup. everyone online just got kicked, all at once. it was finally over

hey wait.

#toontown #toontown online #tto #tft talks #tft stuff #<- this goes in that tag i think #this was like. enrichment. thank you

[garbagecxre]

You Know I'm Good For It (+18)

summary: It's your day off, and you want to spend it with your loving partner, but his work has him caught up and missing the lunch date you had broken you back to prepare. How will he apologize for this disrespect, you wonder?

warnings: raunchy smut, heavy nsfw, eating out, squirting, she gets it on the table lmao, sex in the spider cave, some spanish sprinkled in there!

dom!miguel x sub!reader

wc: 2.2k~

note: this is my first fic in a VERY LONG TIME, so sorry if it's kinda basic, i'm trying to put myself out there first. i do have many other pieces planned, so pls follow me!!

Your feet were like fire as you stormed out of the cave mouth and towards the dias, a plate of hot food steady in your hand.

“Bebo, viente,” You call to him once you reach the bottom, but get not response. Sucking your teeth, you crane your neck to look over his hunched form, but the width of his shoulders block almost everything. Heaving a frustrated sigh, you walk around the dias to face him and call out, “Lyla, can we have a minute?”

The AI assistant and mutant jump in unison, then swing their heads around to face you. Miguel’s fangs were out, and his mouth was twisted in a snarl. Previously frustrated by something, no doubt. Lyla, on the other hand, began to shrink away in guilt like she’d gotten caught provoking the giant. You didn’t care to ask, only smirked at her as she disappeared into the virtual ether.

Miguel begins stepping down from the dias, shoulders slumping a bit as he closes the distance. His towering form greets you and leans over to plant a kiss atop your head. You huff, almost shoving the plate in his hands.

“Cabron, you’re annoying as hell,” you began before Miguel got to open his mouth, finger already jabbed into his chest, “first, I tried to ping you, tell you food was ready. But no, you don’t even acknowledge that, and I know Lyla read my message out to you!”

Lyla from a distant comm replies, “I did! Many times!”

“Many times!” You repeat, “Then, I sent people down here to tell you that food was ready. I sent Ben down here, and what did you do? You fucking made him cry! Why did you do that?”

All the mutant could do was blink in stunned silence as he listened to your rant. The only response he gives you was some blubbering, “Pero, mi nena, I—”

“Save it,” you hold a hand up, “I was trying to be nice and play housewife on my day off, but it seems that your work is more important than my cooking.” There was a pout lining her speech.

Miguel notices the shift in tone and immediately melts on top of you, pulling you into a one-armed embrace.

“I’m so sorry, mi beba,” he mutters into your hair, tightening his grip a little, “this is an important case I had to take care of.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” You cut him off, head shooting up to glare at him, “You made me wait almost an hour!”

“Okay, that’s on me, I’ll admit. But, I’m done now, and you have me all to yourself.” You feel a hand slide down your waist as he spoke, “I can make it up to you.”

“How the hell will you do that?” You reach around to swat his hands away, but his next words stop you in your tracks.

“I could eat you out.” The superhero’s words grant him a hard smack to the chest that has him quickly rebalancing his plate, “Ay, mi nena, don’t be like that.” He sets his plate down on a nearby work bench and pulls you in for a proper embrace, “When’s the last time I made you squirt, hm?”

“Stop, I’m not in the mood,” you start to pull away from his arms, but his grip remains firm around your waist. With a huff, you cross your arms against your chest to get as much distance as possible between you and the spider-man.

“I can change that,” he replies, hands lowering to her ass.

You scoff, “oh really? Like I’ll fall for it.”

“You can’t resist me, beba, we both know this.” Miguel’s words became like honey at that moment, then his hands find purchase around your thighs, and you feel yourself being hoisted up. You yelp, legs wrapping around his waist on instinct. Your vision is temporarily blocked, but you could feel the low chuckle rumble within his chest.

You smack his chest lightly with a pout, “Not funny!” Your eyes look everywhere but up into your lover’s, cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.

Miguel nudges your temple in an attempt to get you to look up at him. When you don’t budge, he parts his lips to let out a soft growl, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand and your head to jerk up and face your boyfriend.

“You know I’m good for it, beba,” you had trouble looking into his eyes, but for different reasons now. It was like a cloud of lust was cast over is eyes, his lids were hooded, and his gaze was no longer on yours. You cursed under your breath, forgetting about the slip dress you’d hastily donned before coming down here, braless and pressed against Miguel’s chest, presenting ample cleavage to him. You could almost see the bead of saliva start to form at the corner of his lips.

“You’ve been down here by yourself for too long,” you huff but relax into his arms, surrendering yourself a little to the giant male. “Let’s go home and—” You were cut off by teeth grazing the side of your neck, forcing a shuddering breath to escape your lips. You were no longer able to utter another word as his tongue pokes out and laps at the sensitive flesh caught in his jaws. All you could do was release another shuddered breath and finally melt into his embrace.

“That’s my good girl,” you feel his lips form the words against your skin, then he picks a spot to suck on gently while his hands begin to explore your body. He cups the underside of your ass as he bites a hickey into your flesh, your moan echoes throughout the cave.

“Bebo, please,” you whine, tilting your head back a bit to invite him in, “Let’s go somewhere more private—”

“Can’t wait,” He grumbles, arms tightening around so much that you can feel the rising bulge pressing up against your navel. You curse under your breath, straining your gaze to catch a glimpse of your dress having been hiked up by said bulge.

You curse again and look back into his lust stricken gaze, “Work bench,” you say, eyes darting towards the steel table behind him. His hulking form turns to acknowledge it before swinging you around like a rag doll and settling you down on top of its metal surface. You hiss as the cold steel stings your bare thighs.

He doesn’t lean in to kiss you, nor does spare another glance your way before dropping to his knees, irises now glowing red and fixated on your exposed sex. You knew that it was easier to accept your fate when he got like this. So, leaning back against your forearms, your fingertips slowly curl into the light fabric of your dress. A gentle tug was all you needed to expose the rest and earn a growl of approval from the beast.

You bite back a moan as Miguel’s hot breath is like silk against your sex. Your legs moved like they had a mind of their own, spreading a little wider and giving more access to the man before you. The first contact between his tongue and your clit was like lightning, your hips buck up and lips part in a soft gasp. He gives you a few seconds to relax before poking his hot tongue back out to lap slow and sensual circles around your clit, a satisfied groan rumbles deep in his chest as the taste of your essence coats his tongue.

“Please,” you manage to get out between moans, “don’t fucking tease me.” No verbal response from the beast, only a quickened pace of his tongue. You buck your hips once more and gasp loudly, white-hot rods of pleasure shoot up your spine and spread throughout your body. Miguel has to grab hold of your thighs to keep your hips still while you writhe under him, but his tongue remains merciless, lapping up the glistening pearl between your legs. You had no choice but to take all of what he’s giving you and then some.

A mixture of your hips bucking against his ever tightening grip and the fast lapping of his tongue had you almost wailing out. You saw sparks in your vision and at this moment, you had no control over your body; your moans barely sounded like your own, they came out almost like a growl, something you’ve heard your lover do many times. Miguel’s only response was to flick his tongue faster against your clit, silently encouraging more of those primal sounds from you. It was maddening how good he was at making you scream, how easy it was to make your back arch off the table and make your thighs clench tight around his head. 

Your orgasm came in waves, first your toes begin to curl, then your hips start to shake and buck uncontrollably. With a final gasping cry, your back forms a deep arch off the cool surface, and you release all over his mouth and chin, a puddle forming beneath the both of you. But, his tongue doesn’t stop, you realize, and the pressure begins to build up a second time. You couldn’t brace yourself fast enough for the second orgasm, and he didn’t stop until the puddle became a pool, and you lay limp on top of the warmed steel.

Your eyes were glazed over, the only sound that could be heard throughout the cave were the sound of your whimpers. Miguel stood, the lower half of his suit dissolving as his hands grab your thighs once more. You feel something softly plop against your navel, looking down you notice your lover’s lower half naked and his erect cock pointing at you, precum slowly dripping out of its angry red tip and creating a small pool on your skin. It twitched in response as his eyes finally landed on you, gaze scanning your half exposed body and drinking it all in.

“Que buena eres,” the mutant’s voice comes out hoarse and breathy, your response was a whine and another buck of your hips. You were weak, and your desire left you hot and desperate for more, you wanted nothing more than to be broken over and over again on this table. Taking this as a sign to waste no more of your time, he grabs your hips and pushes himself past your folds. Yours and Miguel’s combined moans fill the cave, the warmth encasing him nearly making him crumble where he stood.

“Fuck,” he hisses, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist, “tell me when to move, beba.”

“Move!” You breathe as your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper inside your heat. With a growl, he pries your legs back apart, bringing them to rest on his shoulders instead. His hips begin to move, a moderate pace that had you moaning softly, but it wasn’t enough. You watch Miguel’s brows push together as he struggles to keep his pace without hurting you. You grab his hand and bring it up to your throat, a silent message giving him your consent to let go.

He takes it gratefully, hand wrapping around your neck tight, but not enough to cut off your breathing. His hips gradually pick up in pace, his glowing eyes were trained on yours as the force of his thrusts nearly knocks over the table. This only encourages him though, hands gripping your thighs even tighter as his thrusts become erratic. The force of it all brought tears to your eyes, your mouth hung open as moans and cries just fell out. You were a pathetic mess under the mutant, the previous orgasms rendering you useless against his strength.

He only stopped when your cunt pushed him out and a steady stream of clear liquid hits his crotch. You were crying and writhing against his grip as your orgasm consumed your entire body. He barely gives you time to feel the pleasure before sliding back in with the same ferocity as before, hands now gripped around your calves. He spreads your legs wide so he could get a good view of your limp and sweaty body, lips parting in a snarl as his pace once again quickens so much that the pattern of his thrusts become erratic. Miguel loses himself in the pleasure, growls and grunts being the main sounds that fill the room. Your whimpers can’t even be heard over the sound of skin slapping against one another.

Finally, you feel his hips stutter and look up to see his face contorted in pure ecstasy. For a second, you could feel Miguel’s entire body tense, and then hot ribbons of cum coat your walls. You sigh out as your lover leans over and rests his upper half atop you, arms now wrapped tight around your waist. He sighs against your neck, leaving soft pecks on damp flesh. For a while, you both lay like this and catch your breath.

Then, Miguel stands straight again, his suite once again fully intact, “I’d clean you up, but I don’t have any supplies here,” He says sheepishly, “I could carry you back to the house if you want.”

“You know what,” you wave your hand lazily, “it’s the least you could do for making me wait an hour.”

“What, my dick wasn’t enough?” Miguel quickly ducks as a foreign object came flying at him, “Alright, alright, come here.” He chuckles, scooping your weak body into his arms. As he walks into the cave mouth, he pulls you in a little closer to whisper, “So… You think you’ll be up for round two when we get home?”

FIN

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