#but either way it won't feel like much so

[woso-dreamzzz]

Leaving III

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: You've made a mistake

Poland was meant to be perfect and, for the most part, it was.

You got to learn a new language, get a girlfriend and train with some of the best in your sport.

But, you had always been like your sister.

You were Alexia's mirror in some of the worst ways.

She had a temper when she was younger. She was stubborn and frustrated and hated losing. You'd seen her yell at teammates when she was younger about missed tap-ins and shitty crosses.

Tennis is not a team sport but you can feel the same frustration bubble up within you as you're once again outclassed by your training partner.

She's ranked first in the world, of course she's better than you but you're still a wonderkid (Spain's prodigy, you can hear echoing in the back of your mind) and usually, you can hold your own better than this.

You're not running fast enough. You're not swinging hard enough. You're missing easy volleys and your serve is abysmal.

You want to go home.

You want to go back to Spain, back to Mollet de Vallès where you're leagues ahead of the competition.

You sniffle a little, curling up on your bed with your phone stuck to your ear.

There isn't a time difference from Spain to Poland so you know she won't be sleeping. You also know she won't ignore your call.

Alexia loves you too much for that.

"Are you okay?"

You don't call regularly. You're not much of a texter either. That was okay when you were still at home, where Alexia could drop in unannounced whenever and find you either on the courts or curled up in your bed with a movie playing.

You both have gotten used to the long stretches of time you spend away from each other.

But Alexia asks the exact same thing every time you're on a call.

It's only this time though that you feel a sob force its way up your throat.

"No," You choke out," No. I want to come home."

From across the world, curled up in her own bed, in her own home, next to her own girlfriend, Alexia's heart breaks.

She wants you home too.

When you were little, Alexia could pick you up out of your bed and just put you in hers. She could do it whenever she felt like it, for any reason she wanted.

If she wanted little sister cuddles or if she missed you or for something as simple as freaking out Alba in the morning when she was sent to get you up.

As you got older and Alexia moved away for football, she no longer dragged you out of bed but rather just slid into yours. You used to pretend that you hated it.

You would groan and complain and say she was stealing your blankets but you never kicked her out, even when she did annoying things like poke you in the cheek or dig her fingers into your side.

"I want you to come home too," Alexia says back to you and you sag in relief onto your bed.

"This was a mistake," You continue," Ale, I've made a huge mistake. I...I'm not cut out for this. I can't do this."

Alexia wants you at home. She wants you at home in your room in Eli's house where she knows your routine and your patterns and could probably track you down in half an hour.

In Spain, Alexia knows everything about you.

She knows your favourite restaurants and which tennis courts you prefer on sunny versus rainy days. She knows your friends and their families and that old couple just down the way whose dog you sometimes walk when you want a break from homework.

Alexia likes you in Spain, where she can drop everything to give you a hug and look after you and pull the sides of her jacket around you even as you try to wiggle out of whatever hug she's trapped you in.

But you've not made a mistake going to Poland, no matter what you think.

Nothing you've done in Poland is something you should regret.

You're getting the challenge you need to be a better player.

Sports are expensive and it has always been hard on Eli to keep up with everything you need even though Alexia has always been willing to pay for it all.

You were the best in Mollet del Vallès because the talent pool was so low.

It's good for you to learn from others, from other international stars that are legendary in your sport.

Alexia can admit that there's probably a few things you regret in life. But this shouldn't be one of them.

"You can," She says to you," Because you're a Putellas and we're not quitters."

"I am," You reply," I don't mind being a quitter."

Alexia sighs. You've always been stubborn.

"You're not a quitter," She insists," Because you love tennis and you're talented at it. You've got to stumble a little bit to get better."

"I don't want to stumble," You say," Ale, I don't. I'm not cut out for this."

"You are," Alexia says," I promise you are. You are going to be the greatest tennis player in the world someday, I know it. You're going to win the Ballon D'or of tennis one day."

That shocks a laugh out of you. "Alexia," You say," There's no Ballon D'or for tennis."

"Well if there were, you'd win it," She says decisively," But you've got to keep trying, alright? Keep going. Hold out for this month, okay? Get through this month and if you still hate it and if you still think it was one big mistake then I'll talk to Mama and we'll bring you home. But you have to try, alright? You have to really put in effort. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Alexia."

"Good."

Like usual, there's radio silence from you for a good few weeks but Alexia expected that.

She's on camp near the end of the month and doesn't really think about the deadline she's set for you. It's not like there was any actual risk that you were going to quit tennis.

You needed it like Alexia needed football.

"Uh oh," Jenni laughs under her breath as the team walk back into the hotel lobby," Here comes trouble."

You're sitting at reception, scrolling on your phone with a bag at your feet and Alexia's heart sink.

No.

There's no way you've quit tennis.

You love it.

"Well, well, well." Jenni's unaware of the crisis Alexia's currently facing, ruffling your hair before you even know she's there. "Look at you. Still tiny."

"I was never tiny!" You say, cheeks puffed out in outrage," You're just freakishly tall!"

Jenni laughs, reaching to ruffle your hair again. You duck out of the way and scamper behind Alexia, offering her up as Jenni's next victim.

Alexia frowns though. "Why are you here?"

Worry courses through her veins.

There's no way you could have quit tennis. There's no way that you've managed to do that without telling her first.

"Mama is on that cruise with Tia and Tio. Alba is out of the country." You huff. "Mama says that I must be with a responsible adult during my break. She sent me to you. Are you not happy to see me, Ale?"

"I'm happy to see you, Menor!" Jenni calls out.

"Stop calling me that!"

Finally, Alexia's brain catches up with your words. "During your break?"

You nod. "Uh-huh. I've got two weeks off for rest and recuperation and then we're on warm-ups for the next tournament."

"Warm-ups in Poland?" Alexia checks and your brow furrows in confusion.

"Of course in Poland. Where else would I be?"

Alexia takes your hand. "Nowhere."

She drags you up into her room. As one of the captains, she's entitled to having it all to herself. She doesn't even stop to think how she's going to explain this to the staff, just happy to have you all to herself again like she did when she was younger.

You fit into her bed like you did when you were younger too, namely by dragging almost all of her pillows to your side and hogging the blankets.

It's easy to curl around each other now, even though you've grown up and can't fit in Alexia's arms anymore.

It's easy to talk too, as you explain all the new things you've been learning and how excited you are for your next tournament.

It's even easier to fall asleep together, your head pillowed on Alexia's chest (even though you made such a point over stealing all of her actual pillows) and Alexia's hand frozen in the act of getting the knots out of your hair.

It's even worth Jenni and Irene's teasing in the morning when they both burst in to find you both still in the same position.

[thebibliosphere]

Am I reading this right? You have been beating yourself up for not 'working more' and not 'doing enough', but, the mere act of being AT YOUR DESK is extremely painful? Sitting at your work station, just SITTING THERE, caused you PHYSICAL PAIN, but you were still under the impression that you should be able to just 'power through that' to do, what? How much more are you expecting out of yourself? A book a month? Its not like you've STOPPED WORKING. What time table were you holding yourself to???

Here's the thing, my body has always hurt.

Even when I was a child, I was in a lot of pain that was dismissed as either "growing pains" despite the fact that I never got past 5 feet tall at the age of 11 or "attention seeking." So, I learned to stop talking about it. (The trick is now getting me to shut up about it.)

And for most of my teens and twenties, the pain didn't really stop me too much. It was bad, and it sucked, but for the longest time, everyone kept telling me that "everyone" felt that way, so I just sort of learned to power through and hide it under the assumption that "everyone" feels this way.

Well, turns out that was a mistake because my body hit its breaking point, and what might have been a mild genetic disability that could have flown under the radar is now a severe one that greatly impacts my daily life to the point where sitting at my desk causes me pain (because everything causes me pain).

Couple that with some new-age religious trauma about willpower, positive thinking, and whatever the fuck else my parents thought I was capable of as an 'indigo starseed' and the fact that I was trained to mask my ADHD by being a hyper-competent workaholic-- I really don't know what a healthy baseline is.

(I mean, heck, I wrote the first book of Hunger Pangs while literally dying. I assumed it would be edited and published posthumously. Jokes on me because now I've got to edit the rest of the fucking thing.)

I didn't, obviously, and ever since then, I've been trying to learn what a healthy baseline looks like for me post-recovery, and I think I'm doing quite well at it and enforcing my boundaries when people ask too much of me.

But none of that makes up for the shrieking frustration I feel that I can't do the things I want.

I want to be creative and do fun things, but I can't because my body won't let me. I want to write more, but I can't because I'm swimming in brain fog most of the time. Yes it hurts to sit at my desk, but I also need to earn money so the financial burden of everything isn't solely on my partner. (Something which he argues I shouldn't even be worrying about right now, but it's hard not to worry as I watch him work himself to the bone taking care of everything because I can't.)

I promise you, I'm not hustling my ass into an early grave. There is, in fact, zero hustle about how I work. I am very, very slow these days compared to how I used to be. There's no timetable for one thing. I get done what I get done, and that's it.

I'm just perpetually frustrated that my hyperactive brain is trapped in a malfunctioning meat suit. And my blog is where I talk about it and work through my emotions because, well, that's what I've always done long before Tumblr was even a thing. It just so happens now I've got an audience.

[deathbxnny]

hello, jing yuan, aventurine and sunday with a teen!assasin reader who was ordered by their master to kill them but couldnt and [character] took them in due to their young age and frankly them being pitiful

Another similar ask:

hiii, dr ratio aventurine and boothill with an IPC agent/assasin teen!reader?

Reader was practically forced onto assasination, is hardened and doesnt show much emotion due to their past kinda similar to bronya zaychik backstory in the azure waters manga

This post is made in combination with these two asks, so I hope you'll like this!! And thank you to the anons for their request!!<33

Content: Angst, assassination attempts, Reader is a teen assassin that has no direct origin, platonic relationships, father/older brother figures, fluff, some brainwashing on Sundays end, sfw

Characters: Sunday, Aventurine, Boothill

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not fully proofread))

》BOOTHILL

He finds your attempt at killing him rather amusing. Maybe a bit too amusing. He laughed hysterically when he finally pinned you down with ease, thinking this was all just a joke... until he realised that you were serious.

Now, Boothill was used to people trying to off him through various ways, his robotic body the perfect proof for that, but he never had a kid try him before. And he had to admit, that you would've gotten him, if he was still fully human! Truly impressive!

He won't bother asking you where you're from or what you lead him to you in the first place. Once he gets you to settle down and hears you telling him that you can't return to your master until you kill him, he just sighs and scratches his head. Well... he doesn't really want a kid to die at the hands of their abusive master... so he supposes that he'll just have to take you in until he finds a hime for you.

He isn't put off by your emotionless behavior and even understands it very well, if anything. He doubts anyone could be happy under the harsh conditions you grew up in, but that doesn't mean that he won't try and teach you how to loosen up a bit. It doesn't occur to him over time that he never really looked out for a home for you as promised. Perhaps you have found it with him already anyway.

》SUNDAY

Sunday found your attempt quite saddening, absolutely pitiful and near pathetic, if he felt cruel that day. He felt no worry or fear, knowing that whoever sent you must've been a fool to think that a child could end him of all people, and yet, he doesn't tease nor punish you for it. It wasn't your fault that you were born to be mistreated at such a young age, after all.

He takes you under his wing as a disciple or student in a way. He wants to teach you the "truth" about life and what it means to be alive in the dreamscape. Your dreams can become true here, so why not teach you how to live on after your palms have been stained red forever?

Your emotionless and apathetic behavior does little to deter or bother him. He sees you as a child he had to save before the shadows of this sinful took over you completely. His tuning ability is not spared on you either, if that's what it takes for you to get better. He eventually starts to view you as a little sibling and is delighted when you get along with Robin.

Deep down, he will, however, always feel a little... worried that you may turn around to betray him the way you betrayed your original master by leaving him, too. But he hopes that all his lessons and the home he gave you makes you stay and be grateful for all the love and mercy he had given you

》AVENTURINE

Similar to Boothill, he finds your attempt amusing at best. Pitiful at worst, as he sees a younger him in your cold gaze. He knows he shouldn't trust you after what you just tried... but he makes a deal with you anyways, after you were forced to take a seat infront of him by some IPC guards. If you beat him in a card game, he'll let you take his life and get away with it. If you lose, then you'll have to allow him to take you in as a little "assistant" of some sort. In reality, he just wants to save you from yourself, this determination even foreign to him yet welcomed bravely.

Unsurprisingly, you lose. He jokes that it must've been due to his unbeatable luck... but he really just rigged the game a little. There was no harm in it, and if anything, he just saved your life through it. Otherwise, the IPC would've just executed you for trying to attack one of their agents. Even if Aventurine doubted, they even cared that much for him... but he won't tell you that either.

He gave you a calming, stress-free life, one far away from all the hurt and death you've been surrounded with since birth. He hears your story and perhaps even shares a part of his own, as he shows you that you are the same in a way. You don't have to kill and hurt anymore under his care, he promises you that and to a younger self he was trying to heal through it.

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

࣪ ˖✧ The Jackpot

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: You join Arthur and the boys for a job on the Grand Korrigan riverboat where you act as Arthur’s lap girl. The man in question is more than excited about this decision. ✦ Warnings: Guns, mention of shooting, swearing, SMUT, oral (reader receiving), p in v✦ Words: 3,8k ✦ a/n: A big heartwarming thank you to @zae-heeyyy!! Who took the time to correct my dumb spelling and give me her thoughts on this before publishing it! Please go check her work, I swear it won't disappoint! Also: pictures are not mine! Found them on Pinterest.

Dim lights are flickering all around you, making the golden ornaments of the luxurious place you're in shine like a thousand stars. You couldn't believe this gigantic reception room, gratified by a bar, a grand piano, and of course, three elegant poker tables, was actually floating on water right now, as you were on the Grand Korrigan boat, the jewel of its kind, den of the richest gentlemen in St. Denis, in search for some amusement and of course, even more money.

Trelawny and Herr Strauss had plotted a well-crafted deal that could earn a lot of money for the gang. Along with Javier disguised as one of the guards, Arthur would act as a new wealthy businessman who had just made a fortune in oil. Strauss would give him signals during his poker game, which guaranteed him to win considering Trelawny had made a friend out of the dealer.

You? You'd play his mistress, sitting on his lap during the game to make the scene look more convincing. On top of that, you had been able to hide a little gun in a hidden pocket in the underside of your dress, guaranteeing some extra protection, which wasn't a bad idea considering the Grand Korrigan was heavily armed and neither Arthur, Trelawny nor Strauss had one.

So here you were, thriving in your role, comfortably sitting on Arthur's lap, hands wrapped around his neck, both legs hanging on his left side. His arms were enveloping you, hands resting on the edge of the table as he was focusing on his cards.

Well, more like trying to focus, actually.

Maybe it was because you two had started a quite passionate relationship a few weeks ago, sneaking in each other's tent, simple kisses and whispers in the night quickly turning into something more, the both of you having cravings to fulfill.

Maybe it was because Trelawny, the damned man, had chosen a particularly suggestive dress for you to wear, comforting your play considering wives weren't allowed at the poker tables, only work girls and such, your cleavage on full display for his immoral eyes.

Maybe it was the way he could feel the round and warm flesh of your ass even through the fabric of your clothes, right where he wanted to, making his brain impossible to function properly, desperately trying to keep the hardness between his legs to stay in line.

Either way, Arthur had to make enormous efforts to focus on the job and was frankly relieved Strauss was telling him what to do; despite being a pretty good poker player, he would never have been able to win the easiest of games in this state.

Strauss told him to go all-in. He did. You smiled, you would have lied saying you weren't enjoying yourself right now. You had known far worse jobs than playing Arthur's lover. Much to your surprise, he had played a really convincing character through the night too, his usual mumbling far gone, replaced by a bright and confident speech and a cheeky grin that was making you want to kiss it even more. In fact, you wanted to take care of him just to see this cocky smirk flatter under your touch, replaced by a pleasured expression on his handsome face.

It was easy to say both of you were acting pretty good, but inside felt like two teenagers in love.

Arthur had won another hand, men were starting to leave the table, angry. It was only you both and the target now, an opulent man known as Desmond Blythe, loaded with money thanks to his hosiery business.

You pulled a cigarette out of Arthur's pocket along with a match, and you felt his breath hitch for an instant when you slipped your hand in it. Rubbing the match against the wood of the table, you lighted the cigarette casually, little flame illuminating a thin grin on your lips. You took a small drag on it to make sure the tobacco had plainly burnt, then you placed the cigarette in front of Arthur's lips, holding it for him between your index and middle finger, so that he could smoke on it while keeping both his hands on his cards.

It was downright one of the hottest things anybody had done to him and he was starting to lose it. Wrapping his lips around your offering and smoking a long drag, he allowed himself to avert his gaze from his opponent for a few seconds, planting his turquoise pupils into yours.

His eyes were half-lidded, long lashes accentuating the languorous gaze he was giving you. Your heart started racing. The power this man had on you was insane, but if only you knew what you were doing to him in return. You had a glimpse of it though, right there in the depths of his two blue diamonds, this so distinctive dark glow of him, direct window on the sinful pit of his urges.

You were sure your own eyes were mirroring it. And it got worse when, after exhaling some smoke, he quickly kissed the palm of your hand, indicating he had smoked enough, the warm sensation of his chapped lips on your skin giving you goosebumps. His eyes went back to Blythe, and you exhaled as if you had been holding your breath during the whole time you had locked eyes.

You retrieved your hand, taking a drag yourself on the cigarette after him, loving the idea of sharing it with him, of putting your lips right where he did a few seconds before, your biased brain telling you you could taste sweet remnants of him there.

Another all-in, another hand won by Arthur who couldn't stop himself from smiling this sly cocky smirk, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Shit, shit!" Blythe shouted, hitting on the table with his fists furiously.

"I guess ma luck held... Is that you done?" Arthur asked him, his tone triumphant while bending over the table to gather his not-so-well-deserved chips. "Or, do you got somethin' else to play with?" He added more lowly, his baritone voice almost making you shiver just hearing it.

"Meaning?" Desmond questioned back, visibly frustrated. Looked like frustration was a popular feeling around this poker table tonight, about the game or other things...

Arthur had gotten up from his chair and you too, now standing by his side, partially glued to his body as he had snaked an arm around your waist while finishing to put in order his chips. He answered using the same taunting, arrogant tone as before.

"Well, I heard there was some big boys on this boat, maybe that's not you, no offense-"

"Sit your and your whore's hillbilly asses down." The rich men cut him off, voice dark and serious.

You felt Arthur's hand grip tighter on your waist. For a faint moment, you thought that his cover would collapse, considering how tense he had gotten hearing him calling you a whore. But the way he was still smiling was almost even more scary, it was a false, threatening one. The kind of smile that hides a cold anger, boiling silently inside.

"Why?" Arthur simply answered, tone brilliantly contained considering the way his muscles were flexing on their own under his fancy suit.

"I got a watch... An expensive one, swiss... a Reutlinger no less. It's in the safe, upstairs. It's worth more than you."

You forced yourself not to cross eyes with Arthur. Your target. He had just confirmed what you were all here for. Perfect, just a bit more of this whole play and Arthur would be able to access the strongbox.

"Okay, I trust ya." Arthur consented while sitting back on his chair, placing you with his two big hands back at your place, on his lap. You were definitely loving this job. You'd have to thank Trelawny for it, someday.

The rest of the game passed just like before, your outlaw ultimately winning once more thanks to your colleague's little trick. Desmond was furious, and you obtained your goal.

Arthur happily got up once again, gently helping you stand, one of his hands naturally resting on your shoulder. Before following the gentleman who was supposed to bring him to the safe, he bent over to you, head brushing against yours, his stubble and hairs tickling your cheeks. He whispered in your ear, voice deep and hoarse, this one voice that was always making your head turn.

"When we're finished here, I'm gonna take care of ya, darlin'."

You sighed, cracking up a sly smirk, your cheeks turning a bit red. These simple words were enough to make the heat between your thighs make itself known; crying out for attention. Being so close like this was allowing you to breathe in his scent, its combination on top of his breath on your ear was a dangerous mix for your sanity. You took the opportunity of having his skin so close to your lips to place a small kiss on his neck, right below his own ear.

Arthur smiled at you, his bright blue eyes sparkling as he took a last look at you before walking off. You sighed softly again, already missing his presence. The wait for some time alone was only making your own needs grow.

You were only hoping the job would end up smoothly.

Of course, it didn't. 

Desmond, sore loser, had accused Arthur of cheating. That and the fact that the guard Javier had knocked off to steal his clothes had appeared out of nowhere yelling to shoot him had set things on fire on the Grand Korrigan, the boat now witness to a heated shooting the Van Der Linde Gang was known for.

You had instantly pulled out your hidden gun and helped Arthur clean up the place thanks to Javier who had thrown him a rifle. The night had ended with your incongruous team jumping straight in the water, swimming back to the shore, a quite odd and armed to the teeth fish shoal. At least, everyone was alive, and you even had obtained a pretty decent amount of money, not even mentioning the watch Strauss had authenticated as a real Reutlinger. Arthur had quickly taken back the precious object from his greedy hands, "well give it back then", which made you laugh to yourself.

True to himself, your cowboy had instructed everyone to separate and get out of the shore, as always after a job. You were all quite a sight, soaked to the bones. As you were greeting everyone a good night, Arthur silently walked to you and grabbed your hand. Even with the water you both had leaking from your clothes to your skin, you could feel how warm his hand was, contrasting yours which was completely freezing cold from having swam in the icy waters. You wondered if this man was even human.

"But you, Miss, are comin' with me." He playfully informed you, not leaving you any choice.

It was not as if you wanted to go anywhere else anyway.

"Really now? What d'ya have in mind, cowboy?" You asked him with an equally mischievous tone on your own, your eye glued to the way his hair looked completely soaked, subtle rivulets sliding all the way from it to his neck.

"Maybe we could pay ourselves a well-deserved night in town..." He proposed, voice turning more and more into a low growl as he was letting his desires take the lead on his reason.

"I would love that." You simply agreed, before getting closer to him, tilting your head up to bring your lips to his. He gladly let you, one hand still holding yours, the other gently landing on the side of your face.

The walk to the La Bastille Saloon was supposed to be a short one, but you both looked like you couldn't wait to be there before teasing each other. You would sometimes stop walking to just attack his neck, lips merciless as you sucked and kissed him there. Your taunting acts were often met with his equally heated answer, one of his palms ending on your ass, or your thighs, your wet clothes transparent and glued to your curves not helping him to keep his touch away from these places of your body. Arthur's breath sharpened as he called you his lil minx, and no, darlin’, we can't just do it on the streets.

Finally, after having shocked the barman by arriving at such late hours in completely soaked clothes, which honestly just made the both of you laugh mischievously, you reached your love nest for the night.

And what a nest! Silk sheets, canopy bed, sumptuous decor glistening with the dim lights of the chandeliers. Even the floor looked comfortable, carpeted with some fancy patterns, matching the couch and bed's color. Red, just like passion, just like lust. Red, like the color of your cheeks right now as Arthur had closed the door and was already on his knees, placing you on the edge of the mattress. Red, just like what Arthur was seeing right now, hungry hands pulling your dress up, positioning himself between your thighs.

You looked down at him, his darkened eyes looking at you. You noticed he had ripped off his fancy tie, needing to breathe properly, the heat between you both already making him suffocate. In those moments, his beautiful pupils were always shining with a more murky color, his usual sky blue turning into a more cobalt one. They were staring intensely into yours, expression questioning. A silent demand. You nodded positively, quietly answering. Dooming yourself.

The moment you did, he buried his head between your legs, left hand resting on your hip, holding you gently. His lips started kissing softly on the fabric of your undergarments. His other hand quickly came, helping him in his task by pulling it to the side, granting him access.

The moment his lips met your folds, you let out a moan, unable to resist the feeling he was giving you. He was loving it, his ears getting redder as he was more and more aroused himself. He was so big between your thighs, his shoulders were spreading them almost completely open.

He licked in a long, slow movement all the way to the top of your pussy, making you sigh in pleasure already, hips jerking against his head, begging for more.

"Easy, girl... I've got ya." He soothed you hoarsely, left hand holding you more firmly to prevent you from crushing him totally. Nevertheless, he took your eagerness into account; he couldn't deny you anything. Not when it came to sex. Not when you were so beautiful in this ostentatious dress. Not when he had grown more and more found of you, even if he was refusing to admit it to himself completely for now.

He brought his lips on the top of your core, tongue gently circling around this so special knot of nerves, his stubble scratching pleasantly against your skin, bringing you even more sensations.

It was already so good, Arthur's mouth showing you no pity, licking, sucking, kissing, as if you were becoming the only food he could ever feast on, the only oxygen he could breathe with. The sight of his broken nose buried beneath your skin, as if he was searching to go even deeper within you was almost too much for you to handle. Your hands that were gripping the sheets had now found the top of his head, spurring him to continue, please please please, Arthur, more, or you could have died right here on the fancy bed of the La Bastille Saloon.

Arthur's tongue answered your begging call, lapping your sensitive spot faster, harder. How the Hell was that man so good at pleasuring a woman? That, sinful, dirty man, just like the sounds you were letting out right now.

Your vision started to blur, the back of your head sinking onto the mattress, your back arching deliciously, and you were going to let him know just how close you were until he stopped all of a sudden.

"A-Arthur!" You protested, head snapping back at him, eyes pleading, tone both offended and needy as his name had sounded more like a whine when it had felt from your mouth.

He smiled cockily at you from where he was, his mouth looking wet with your arousal. He loved it, he loved being responsible for it.

"I'm here, girl... I jus' need ya too much right now. Lemme just..."

His voice was now a low rumble, coming from the depth of his chest. You watched as he quickly ripped off his clothes with little care for them. Trelawny would have shouted at how he was treating one of the most expensive suits he had ever brought.

But he didn't care about the suit. And neither do you, as your eyes were devouring every inch of his flesh that was appearing under them. The sight of a completely naked Arthur always had the same effect on you, no matter how many times you already had seen it.

His muscular body looked like it had been carved by Angels. No, more likely by an angry, dark God, who would have sculpted him from a hard and brutal material, his many scars and blurs a remnant of it. You could almost picture his tools molding your lover's broad chest and shoulders with sharp, furious hammer blows. His powerful arms and legs had received the same treatment, as if the deity wanted to pass on all of his brutal force into his creation. And his cock was definitely no exception to it.

And yet, this brutal force of nature was blushing under your gaze. He couldn't have resisted the hurtful sensation of emptiness around his shaft, one of his hands now giving himself a few strokes to try and relieve some of it. His eyes closed in a frown for a few seconds, your pussy burned at this unholy scenery he was offering you.

You were in such a state of need it was almost depraved. You quickly got rid of your own clothes, tossing them somewhere on the floor of the room, needing to share this intimacy with him, to feel his skin against yours.

"Oh, please... Arthur, jus' take me..." You asked yourself before he could probe your adequation. You knew him well now, you already knew the next words he was going to speak would be another demand to make sure you truly wanted this.

He seemed to enjoy how you had forecasted it, his eyes opening again to look at you, his cock hardening even more, precum slowly leaking from its top, wasting all the efforts he had done to relieve it a bit.

"If that's what you want darlin'... I'm your man." He answered in a growl, climbing next to you on the bed.

You weren't sure why but his last words had made your heart swell in your chest. You were sure, deep down inside of you, that he meant it in another way. He really had become yours, and you, his. Lost in your thoughts, you let him handle you gently, placing you on your belly against the silk sheets, lying himself on top of you, legs between yours.

You slightly moved your rear up against his erection, earning a grunt of pleasure from him. Saying he had loved it was an understatement; he had been thinking about doing this with you since you had sat on him on the riverboat.

Using his right hand, he placed his cock against your entrance, and finally started pushing, your pussy already ready for him thanks to his ministrations, your mouth mewling at the sensation. Your perfect, hot walls were finally enveloping him, and he tried his best not to come just from that intense feeling alone.

He was so big and tall behind you, his head could reach yours and he buried it onto the crook of your neck, his hair still wet offering you a cold feel, contrasting with his whole hot chest pressed on your back, making you feel as if a literal inferno was burning it. He slowly started to pull back, only to shove himself in you again, starting a slow but intense back and forth.

"God, damn it... 'Feel so good girl..." He mumbled against your skin, his arms encircling you from both sides, caging you under his tall figure.

You sighed at his praise, wanting to answer something to compliment him back, but he snapped his hips just at the same time, making you shut your eyes close, and moan louder than before. Your voice was starting to crack under the amount of pleasure he was bringing to you, hard shaft brushing this deep spot within your core every time his hips moved, hitting just right where you needed him to.

He had noticed, and it was only making him lose his mind even more, unable to keep his pace slow, letting his body unleashed. He had waited this whole night to bury himself in you, listened to this moron calling you names without having the right to punch his goddamn idiotic face. He couldn't hold anything back anymore.

He started thrusting more frantically, pistoning his cock in and out of you so fast and hard he was now fucking you onto the bed. His right hand grabbed a fistful of your ass, the feeling of it colliding with his pelvis with every thrust making him insane, the other one next to your left shoulder, preventing him from crushing you completely.

You could feel it, the familiar feeling, the divine relief, building more and more thanks to him, the pace increasing your pleasure. Feeling how impossibly hard his sex had gotten in your cunt, you knew he was close too. This simple fact was the last push to your deliverance.

"A-Arthur! God, yes!" You screamed, unable to form any coherent thoughts, existing simply for this, for this moment with him, naked on the bed of this saloon. Just you and him.

"Oh, darlin’, shit!" Your orgasm had made your walls clench even more around his dick, exploding his limit. He quickly removed himself from you, and finished at the last second on your back, his burning release painting your skin in flaming spurts. His very own sinful art piece.

The room felt silent again. The air stifling from your lovemaking, the only sounds being heard were your sharp, quickened breaths. Arthur took a few seconds to collect himself, feeling better and so satisfied, almost euphoric. Turning your head to the side, you took a glimpse of your lover's gorgeous state. Hair messy, cheeks and ears crimson, sweat dripping everywhere on his skin, chest rising and falling in big, profound exhales.

He then grabbed a piece of fabric from one of the wardrobes to gently wipe off his seed from you, and tossed it away, wanting nothing more but to rest against you now. A perfect contrast, from an agitated, stormy sea to a quiet, secret cove. As if you were the only one who could see him like this, vulnerable, loving even.

You watched him lay by your side on his back, your head still feeling dizzy, slowly coming back from a world of fantasies. You snuggled against him, resting your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you, feeling spent but so, so happy. And you felt the same.

Tonight had been quite something, and despite having won a few thousand dollars, it was definitely not money that was making Arthur feel like he had hit the jackpot.

[pro-memoriia]

Some head canons for how I think the ghouls (IMPERA, including Aether) can be in bed.

TW: Mentions of blood play, knife play, asphyxiation, and hitting + hair pulling in a sexual context in Sodo's section. Highlighted in red. Please skip if you're uncomfortable.

NSFW below the cut. You have been warned.

Note: I was going to do the ghoulettes, but I lost all my brain power. I might make a PT2 for them.

Rain:

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Exhibitionist. Not with strangers, but with Papa and the other ghouls, he loves to show off how pretty he is.

Unpredictable attitude. One minute he can be whimpering and pleading and then a second later be giving sassy comebacks to things his partner (s) is saying.

Switch, leaning sub. He's very adaptable since he's had his fair share of partner's who've liked different things. He overall prefers to be a sub and a bottom, but he can absolutely switch if he needs to. He's also a very good power bottom.

He's a dacryphiliac. Whether it's him crying or his partner, something about the smell of the tears and the way they look cascading down a beautiful face arouses him.

Loves playing dress up. He enjoys wearing lingerie and dresses and stuff because it makes him feel pretty. And he definitely won't complain if his partner wears something nice either...

Hates background noise. He doesn't like if there's something playing in the background, even music. It distracts him and sort of kills the mood. Especially if it's a show or movie or something.

Hates erotica. He doesn't like reading sex.

Will not ever fuck in his bedroom with the big light on. Small lights or no light.

Swiss:

Very open-minded. He will try pretty much everything at least once. As long as it's consensual and not harming anybody, he's down for at least trying it. However, there are certain kinks he does like more than others.

The biggest switch you'll ever meet. He can top, bottom, dom, sub, whatever is needed of his partners. He can be mean or sweet or anything. Very skilled when it comes to being in different positions.

Absolutely loves giving head. It doesn't matter whether his partner has a dick, or a vagina, or both. He will absolutely go down on them with enthusiasm. (He's also an avid cum eater.)

Not often serious. He prefers to joke around or at least be casual during sex. If his partner wants completely serious sex, he'll do it, but he prefers to be able to let loose a little.

He absolutely loves sexual media. He loves sex scenes on TV, he loves erotica, even fan fiction.

Extremely good at aftercare. Food, drinks, baths, kisses, cuddles, praise, everything. Will absolutely dote on his partner afterwards, no matter if he's been rough or not.

Has a specific playlist for sex. He enjoys fucking to the beats of songs and some also just get him in the mood.

Will do it pretty much anywhere and any time. Of course, he knows to be respectful and keep it contained in front of people who don't want to be involved, but nonetheless, he's DTF at almost any moment.

Phantom:

The bottom-est bottom to ever exist. He might get a little rough at times, but he is absolutely not dominant.

Only praise, no degradation. If he is degraded, it will go to his head and he will cry.

Secretly wants a ghoul there to ground him. If he's with a Sibling Of Sin or something, he might get a little anxious or shy. If Rain or Swiss or Mountain and somebody from his pack shows up, it gives him a lot more confidence.

Messy eater, if you know what I mean. He absolutely loves going down on others. He likes knowing he's making somebody feel good and likes getting praised. However, he's still learning, and even if he weren't, he'd probably still be just as sloppy. But it's over, because it's so sweet to look at him and see his face covered in cum.

He's like a puppy. He's so shy, yet so eager. All he ever wants is to make his partner feel good and happy, and get praised in the process.

He will fold for the simplest of things. Compliment him, pet him, praise him, kiss him, anything and he will be on his knees for you in the blink of an eye.

His favorite "teacher" is Swiss. Swiss is where he learned some of the kinks he had, different positions, how to please people with certain anatomy, etc. Literally involve Swiss with anything and he'll follow.

Tail wagger. If he's getting fucked real good or really absorbed in getting head, his tail will move like a helicopter. Back and forth, super fast. You can't get angry with him for it though, he's too sweet.

Dewdrop / Sodo:

Aggressive. It does not matter what position he's in or anything, unless he's sad, he's at least a little bit aggressive.

Will use his own tail. He loves using his tail to give himself and his partners pleasure. Whether it's rubbing their clit, jacking them off, or rubbing their nipples, he loves it. He thinks it's fun.

Major tease. This little brat will do anything to fuck with his partner. Whether it's small touches cocky remarks about their sexual secrets. He just loves causing trouble.

Loves when his partners are loud. Not only does he find it arousing, he also finds it amusing. He can and will use it against them outside of the bedroom too.

A slight sadomasochist. He's not incredibly big on it, but he likes some pain play. If a partner asks to bring knives or something into bed, he'd do it. And he's totally down for some blood (even periods). And you've seen him choke Rain, he's open to breathe play. But seriously, pull his hair, bite him, even slap him, he'll love it, and he'll do it back if you ask nicely.

Loves having multiple partners at once. Invite him to a threesome, foursome, fivesome, even so much as an orgy, he's 100% down. He loves the extra company.

Temperature play. If they're into it, he'll totally use his element to file his partner's up. He's hot in more ways than one.

No. Stuffies. He hates doing it around toys or stuffed animals or anything because it makes him feel like he's being watched and judged. And also he gets thrown off when he looks away from his partner's pleasure filled expression to a little stuffed unicorn or something.

Aether:

Soft dom, all the way. He is the sweetest, most doting fucking teddy bear one could ever have for a partner.

Gentle manhandling. He will basically bend and reposition his partner in any way he wants during the act, but he's very careful about it so he doesn't hurt them.

Very, very fixated on communication. While the others discuss boundaries with their partners, nobody will do it like this guy. He's always checking what he's allowed to do, if they're comfortable, if they know their safe word or need to say it, everything. He wants to do everything in his power to take care of his partner and would be absolutely devastated if he hurt them or crossed their boundaries in any way.

"I just wanna take some pictures." If they let him, he will take photos of his partner during sex. And if they really feel like being nice, he'll carry those photos in his wallet and phone case. He just wants to look at them when he's missing how they feel, it helps him get off.

Breeding kink... He doesn't know why he likes it so much, but the idea of filling his partner up with cum and just keeping them stuffed full of him makes his dick and his heart throb.

Loves any close and intimate position. He loves being close to his partner and being able to touch and feel and kiss them. If not, it'll throw off his rhythm when he's fucking.

Much prefers coziness. He loves having sex in his bed the most. When he's intimate, he just enjoys having pillows and blankets and more plush and soft surroundings.

Aftercare king. He will feed his partner, bathe them, carry them, kiss them, cuddle them. Anything they want. He just made them feel good, but he can't just stop after an orgasm.

Mountain:

Huge. Ginormous even. He's a big guy with a big cock. And that's okay.

Mostly gentle. Unless he's really stressed out or he's near/in his rut, he always prefers softer, sweeter, slower sex. Especially if he's the one penetrating somebody else. He knows his size can hurt already, but going at his hard and fast would probably give his partner a tummy ache and he doesn't want that.

Loves outside sex. Whether it's in the forest or the greenhouse, or even just on the patio outside the Ministry. He just loves being intimate in his element.

Ghoulish head... He will purr and his tail will wag when he gives head, especially if it's AFAB anatomy. It's like he gets drunk or sleepy when he goes down on his partners. His tail will move all swiftly, he'll be pretty much vibrating from purring, and he'll smile up with pearly white fangs and a tongue coated in cum.

Quiet, for the most part. He really just whimpers and grunts a lot. Except he can be talkative sometimes.

Cannot and will not be involved with degradation. It's awkward for him to be on the receiving end, and if he does it to someone else, he might cry.

Very sensitive to smell. If he gets a whiff of his partner's arousal, he will immediately be alert. His tail will wag, his pupils will dilate, and he'll be almost shaking, but in a good way.

Kind of has a thing for double penetration... He's mentioned using a drumstick in other ways before but always played it off as a joke when rejected. But with another ghoul in the mix, he'll be so excited and that partner will not be walking straight or sitting comfortably for at least a few days.

[sourapplesauces]

I headcanon that while both are indeed such girlfailures ,

Ragatha are still maybe experienced in some romantic gestures or stuffs , like kissing and whatnot

And sometimes she gets ahead of herself and always gets overconfident on topping Pomni but always ended up being a flustered mess instead LMAOO ((poor Pomni having to wait for her ragdolly girlfriend to calm down , Ragatha swore to God this never happens 😔😔))

Meanwhile Pomni is either too afraid to make a move or is actually oblivious

But I also like to think that she's both "know what's going on but afraid to make the first move so that she won't get ahead of herself" XD

Another headcanon that I have for these two girlies are :

- they both fidget with each other's accessories fr

Like for Pomni , maybe she fidgets with Ragatha's bow or frills

Meanwhile for Ragatha , she might just fidget with Pomni's jester hat's circle thingy , because it kind of massages her paws ((her ragdolly hands but someone called them her paws and I could not agree more so I had to call it as that too HHHH))

Another headcanon #3 :

- Pomni comforts Ragatha more efficiently , maybe because she is more onto the rational side where she thoroughly think of a plan on how to effectively calm a person down

- And Ragatha , despite being the "motherly girlfriend" or whatever that you call it , needs the constant validation the most

I think that is all for now I am afraid to flood your inbox too much HHHHHH

Cmon we all know damn well Ragatha isn’t the confident one in the relationship.

As for Pomni, i feel like she just wants to be sure of Ragatha’s true feelings before she makes a move because she values their bond so much <3

Lol she broke Ragatha

For hc #2 omg this was such a cute idea ToT also calling Ragatha’s hands “paws” is just the most adorable thing ever

And last but not least hc #3!!

I love this dynamic so much. I feel like Ragatha hides her true emotions way too often, and i hc that Pomni helps her express herself better and in a healthier manner. She can seek out Pomni for reassurance and Pomni gives it to her in a straightforward and reasonable way.

[animeredhead101]

Danny Gets Adopted DP x DC Crossover

Completed

Run to the Belfry by JollieRancher :

Danny is running from the GIW and lands in Gotham. The only warning he got before things went wrong were the words "Run to the belfry" on a sticky note. He doesn't know what a belfry is, but running is his only way to avoid capture. When a superpowered teen passes out in Batmans arms, Bruce decides to take him home. Word Count: 11,900

Gotham is Haunted by ArtemisMoore :

A kid is running around with jet black hair and impossibly blue eyes. Prime adoption bait for Bruce Wayne. But that's not why he has slowly gotten the attention of the members of the family. Homeless, skittish, disheveled, and quick to help the kid seems to be hiding from something - or somebody. He's scared and they want to know why. But other than his appearance and the name 'Danny' nothing is known about the kid.

At the same time they're dealing with 'Danny' a new Meta appeared in Gotham, a ghost with snow white hair and toxic green eyes named 'Phantom'. He's tired, sad, and just wants to go home. But something is preventing him from leaving. Something... or someone.

What are the two kids running from? Are they connected?

Will the bats find out before either kid ends up in serious trouble?

Word Count: 16,266

Grave Promises by Blueseabird2 :

Danny Fenton had nowhere to go and no one he could turn to without putting them in danger. Except, perhaps, the hero who'd cared for, respected, and trained Danny for all too short a time. Dick Grayson had never told anyone he'd once been trapped in the Ghost Zone. He'd also never forgotten the promise he'd made sure to get from Danny Phantom. Jason didn’t know what was going on but he was really very pissed that there was another kid with a y-shaped scar on their chest and eyes that feel like frozen reflections of home. Thankfully, there were suddenly several new targets for his rage and Dick seemed rather more inclined to join Jason than stop him. Word Count: 53,882

But I will hold on hope, and I won't let you choke by ghostly_frogly :

After the destruction of his hometown and being hunted by the GIW at the age of 14 Danny didn’t know what to do. He debated going to the Ghost Zone and living the rest of his life and afterlife there when he encountered a group of ninjas. The details of how and why are still lost to him but in the moment he fought. He fought and let out as much anger, frustration, and sorrow as possible. His eyes turned green and his fists were shaking and bruised from the fight.

Surprisingly, or maybe not with the life he lives, this isn’t the last time the ninjas come after him. He fights more and more off until he meets the man sending the ninjas his way. He is offered training by a man named Ra’s Al Ghul. Danny jumps at the chance, thinking how he could finally run away from his problems or fully die trying.

or

Danny runs away from everything he's ever known when it is all taken from him. Seeing no better option he joins a cult-like group of assassins. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 6,521

Prankster for Hire by thatshrubbery :

Danny thought he was pretty good at this whole harmless haunting thing. Really, it felt like he was doing good deeds through his pranking. Pull a few pranks on customers, drive up sales for the coffee shop as the rumor mill (correctly) begins claiming the place is haunted. Perfect symbiotic relationship. When Danny can't pass up the opportunity to continuously prank a certain regular, he finds himself being hired as an elite prankster the likes of which Gotham’s vigilantes have never seen. Steph is in love with the new coffee shop in town. The aesthetic? To die for. The vibes? Immaculate. The glitter markers? Genius. So, when a certain straw-stealing halfa steals one straw too many, she takes it upon herself to assemble her own first-class squad of Ghostbusters to handle the problem Batman style and bring one (1) prankster into the fold. Word Count: 46,702

Contractual Obligations by Calix, Tathartiel :

Danny is doing his kingly duties when a demon breaks into a meeting demanding the king’s soul. Now Danny has only a few months to find his birth father and nullify this soul contract or else he becomes a slave to the demon on his 16th birthday.

Word Count: 114,383

It Takes Three Days to Get Adopted by corkinavoid :

Danny is just doing Jazz a favor. Pretty simple favor, actually, check out the haunted house her boyfriend's family lives in. And of course, being the responsible sister, she has already made all the arrangements, so all he has to do is just show up, walk in, look around, maybe kick some ghost butt out, maybe deal with some shades or possessed artifacts. Easy. Wait, isn't this the Wayne manor? No, it's okay. Not every rich person has a weird secret basement, he'll be fine. What are the chances of another billionaire deciding to adopt him on sight? (Damn it, Jazz! You knew, didn't you?!) Just another Danny adoption fic, yes. Word Count: 50,143

Scrawny kid and the Batmobile by PickleofwhichisFickle64 :

Danny on the run from the GIW, stuck as a 10 year old, winds up in Gotham. He spots the Batmobile and decides to add a new feature to it. Dick Grayson is confused as to why a small child is elbow deep in the engine of the Batmobile.

Word Count: 7,185

On-going

Knight of the Boyking by Milaley :

There is a child hiding behind him. A glowing, powerful and possibly ghostly child with a flaming crown hovering above their head but a child, nonetheless. Older than Damian but younger than Tim. They are clutching onto the fabric of his batman cape with one shaking hand, making themselves as small as possible, trembling with fear. There are two guns pointed at Batman by a pair of muscular men wearing white suits and dark sunglasses. These two things are connected. An injured Danny runs to Batman for protection and in turn, makes the Dark Knight's life a lot more complicated. Word Count: 49,196

It may feel like an ending (but the battle's just begun) by NotSoStarCrossed :

He can't believe this is how he’s meeting his bio mother. It was never something he thought he’d have to do alone. — Lois could no longer push her baby into the someday. He had burst, rather abruptly, into the now. OR Lois had a kid she gave up for adoption and Danny can't seem to stop running. OR Danny's on the run after his friends and family were killed by the GIW. After escaping from Vlad he runs to the only place no one will look for him, the home of his birth mother Lois Lane. Word Count: 13,160

Alien Boys by Zylev :

With Amity Park destroyed, Danny falls through a portal that sends him to another Earth. The Justice League assume he’s an alien and treat him as such—but Danny might be more of an alien than he would’ve thought. Based on: This Word Count: 84,756

We Could Be Home by MyNameIsJag :

Danny has been deaged, he is hungry and very angry. Given his tiny body and fluctuating powers, there's not much he can do about that. He has questions that need answers, why is he here, where is his family, what is going on? Also why is everyone so weird? Danny gets thrown into Omegaverse DC, coming from somewhere were that is a fanfiction category, it's a bit of a culture shock. Poor Danny has so navigate this world with new rules he doesn't know or understand. Find a way home, maybe find out what happen to the him from this universe, and try not to get attached. The Batfam are just excited for the new pup in the family. Word Count: 13,385

Ghost King in Gotham (On Temporary Hiatus) by GDogDfeld124 :

Danny Fenton moves into Gotham to get away from the GiW and his parents. Luckily for him he got a scholarship to Gotham University and could move in without trouble. Everything goes haywire when one day while doing his homework he gets summoned. _____________ Planning for this one to be a long one. Trying not to make this crack. Word Count: 74,968

r/AITA for not wanting to clean the BASEMENT? by SaturdayNightFrights :

Danny doesn’t have many people to turn to about the minor issues in his life. So he does what any normal teenager in today’s time does: makes a post on Reddit.

Word Count: 17,091

Found Family by EvaDragon :

Danny Phantom is rescued from GIW by Batman and Superman, panics and runs from the heroes mid-flight back to the Watch Tower. He is then found by Bruce Wayne in Gotham. Bruce convinces the still injured Danny to convalesce at Wayne Manor. After spending time in Wayne Manor, Danny's core overrides his brain, and Danny spills his deepest secrets. Damian, to everyone's surprise, is the first to approach Bruce about adopting Danny, and is also the first to try to convince his siblings about the adoption. Damian's siblings are very much onboard with this plan, as most of them were at the Watch Tower when Danny was rescued. Now they just have to convince Danny that being in a family of multibillionaire vigilantes isn't all that bad. Word Count: 11,375

Experiment 666- project failure by Daemonshadowfox :

Let it never be said, Batman does have a heart. However, taking home the creature brings new issues to the house. Alfred is happy however, he has a new grandchild to take care of and the rest of the Bat-Clan is happy to have someone new to play with. Enjoy the chaos that happens when Danny joins the Bat-Clan.

Word Count: 18,215

Going Broody by bloggerspam :

When a suddenly de-aged Danny meets Black Canary in the middle of a battle, he accidentally ghost-wails at her...except all it does is push her back a couple feet. ....And make her think he's the cutest Lil' Canary in the world. Word Count: 19,866

[zedif-y]

it's fucked up how people can drift apart. it doesn't matter how much time you've spent together, how many times you promise each other it won't happen. if it happens, it happens. no way around it, because most times when the gap is wide enough to be noticed you've reached the point where you either don't know how to mend it, or worse, don't want to.

it doesn't matter what they meant to you. it doesn't matter if you spent most of your childhood days in their bedroom, playing house or playing video games on the family computer.

...it doesn't matter if they changed your life. nor does it matter if they saved it.

i have this friend in mind, as i'm writing this. we would call everyday over quarantine, spent nights laughing and losing sleep like teenagers are prone to do. they've got the kind of smile that could power a city, you know? the kind of laugh that put starlight to shame.

most importantly, most notably— they gave me my name. ryan, they called me. it started as a joke, it was only meant to tease.

i have loved it ever since.

i miss them, is what it comes down to. we've changed a lot. we still talk, on occasion, and they're still in my life. but the gap between us feels tangible, feels real and heavy and painful. i don't know how to fix it. god knows i've tried.

i wrote this because i realized i've nearly forgotten about that story. the roots of my name, where it came from, what it means to me.

(isn't that wild? how you can shape someone so much and just... forget?)

(and if i barely remembered it, does that mean that they've...)

...i think, in some way, it's comforting.

i can't always rely on my memory. my heart, as i grow, will develop a fondness for other people. pictures and trinkets can be lost or collect dust.

but my name will always be mine. even if it changes.

even when they've moved on.

[archie-sunshine]

sorry i love thinking about rodimus and drift's relationship and all it's complexities.

because like. it's not healthy. in the slightest. rodimus is actively using drift to justify his more negative behaviours. he literally talks about how he doesn't listen to either magnus or drift because one is too negative and one it too positive so he ends up being able to do what he wants.

there's also that one scene in the shadowplay arc where it's implied he starts calling drift slurs if he doesn't pick up his phone fast enough.

this scene btw

like obviously rodimus could be calling him anything but considering drift literally ends that statement with "anyways, let's move on" it's probably not the nicest thing. which is not indicative of a healthy friendship

but the thing is it kinda goes both ways. the lost light is a ship away from the rest of cybertron, drift is able to put some amount of distance between himself and his past and there's a sort of buffer that likely comes from being around rodimus

cause like. the thing is. drift isn't some sort of hippy chill guy. that's an act he puts on for everyone else. like he's still spiritual, that's a big aspect of his character, but he's still very much a morally grey guy. he's shown to have zero issues with throwing himself headlong into combat. there's one scene where he literally gets pissy at rodimus for kill stealing him

and in the sound of breaking glass which is the in between scene after the tyrest arc, we learn that drift doesn't leave for rodimus' reputation or his sake, he leaves for the rest of the crew.

quote

"When I put this sword through my spark, I saw something."

"What, like a vision?"

"Kind of. More a sense of how thing would play out. It was abstract and it was fleeting, and every time I call it to mind it becomes harder to interpret, but something is around the corner, Rodimus - and a year from now, or 50 years from now, that something will arrive, and we won't be able to stop it unless we find the Knights. And I don't care if you thin, 'Oh that's just Drift being Drift,' because I'm convinced that you need to remain in charge. People can come and go - they can die - but you have to be here, otherwise we will fail. And so the simple the solution - the only solution - is that I take the blame for this."

"I won't let you do this for me."

"I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for everyone else."

End quote.

i don't know. i feel like this conversation is really important to understanding drift and rodimus' friendship that a lot of people miss because sometimes they don't read the interlude's.

drift and rodimus are not a healthy friendship but neither of them are actively trying to hurt the other. it's a mutually destructive relationship not just rodimus trying to take advantage of drift while drift is blissfully ignorant. (i really hate how people woobify drift. he's not some uwu spiritual hippy who is ignorant of how bad of a person he is. he's putting on a persona for everyone else to make them more comfortable around him, even if it makes him miserable and/or devalues him as a person in the eyes of others. that's why ratchet is good for him, because he doesn't care. he likes drift for drift.)

and that's a thing a lot of people seem to misunderstand about rodimus. he's not like, willfully ignorant. he's painfully aware of how badly he's fucked up on so many levels. that's a key aspect of his character arc. he recognises that he needs to grow and change

anyways hopefully this doesn't come off as annoying. i just really like thinking about the characters in mtmte and i think that a lot of people tend to conflate a lot of fandom personalities with the canon ones. something something, that every 3 months people should have to reread the source material

I have said this to literally everyone i've asked to read mtmte, and i will say it again:

RODIMUS STRAIGHT UP SUCKS.

LIKE FOR A REALLY REALLY LONG TIME.

The whole point of the story is that rodimus is a less than great guy who demands too much of people, disregards them, uses them, etc. and then he LEARNS. through having a thousand rocks thrown at him! that he needs to stop sucking!!!

They both enable each other's worst qualities. they are FULLY bad for each other. I have a soft spot for that kind of thing sometimes.

... BEFORE they go through their own separate character arcs.

I agree with everything you've laid out, because you ARE right, however, I argue personally that POST CANON driftrod can be healthy. I have a whole fix it fic planned about it, i believe they should kiss, etc etc

Like i'm a driftrod defender and i can say for certain that their initial friendship is very very bad for both of them, but I can SEE the POTENTIAL of them both growing as people, having to do that separately, and being able to come back together happily.

BUT GENUINELY PLEASE DONT FIGHT ME ABOUT STUFF LIKE THIS IM SCARED I DONT WANT TO BE INVOLVED IN SHIP WARS-

[brightest-stars-if]

So how soon can we develop a crush on Lux? Will it be possible for it to be one-sided or does choosing to have feelings automatically make them like us too? Who falls first, us or them? Is Lux a "tell everyone we know" sort of person when it comes to our relationship or would they want to keep it more private/lowkey? What's the rating of the game, how detailed will our relationship get? Will our wedding be covered in the game? Married life after? Does Lux want kids? Will there be more of a focus on the adventure with our prophecies or on the mandatory romance scenes?

Feeling like that McDonald's drive thru meme, but I have a lot of questions ^^;;;

I've been keeping this question in my inbox for a couple of weeks because I wasn't totally sure how to answer haha. Hopefully you haven't taken offense, anon. Let me answer your questions in order.

No, the MC's crush won't be one-sided. Lux's feelings emerge around the same time as the MC's.

So to add to the first point, no one really falls first, it's more of a mutual thing. If I include an oblivious route for the MC, then Lux is aware of their own feelings first.

Lux is 100% a "tell everyone we know" sort of person. They're in love with MC and see no shame in that. Though with certain MC-Lux combinations, they might not be publicly as affectionate in certain circumstances. Particularly with a f!Lux and a m!MC. That doesn't mean they love the MC any less though!

The game would have a late Young Adult to New Adult rating I guess? There’s certainly going to be violence more detailed than in chapter 1 so far. As for Lux and the MC’s relationship, romantically it’s going to be very detailed. I will say I’m not going to be writing in-depth sex scenes or anything like that. There’ll probably be some suggestive themes/moments though.

Yes, the wedding will be covered in the game! Opposite-sex MC and Lux combinations actually get married pretty early in the game. It's going to be either at the end of Arc 2 or the beginning of Arc 3, depending on how I feel it fits with pacing. Same-sex MC and Lux combinations can also get married, but this will be much later, during Arc 8.

As a result of an earlier marriage, opposite-sex MC and Lux combos get more married-life content, but same-sex combos should also get some. All combinations get a pretty equal amount of established relationship content.

Lux could take or leave kids, they don't feel strongly about it either way. They're sterile/barren so they can't have biological kids, but there'll be an option to adopt toward the end of the game.

My goal is to divide the game between romance and the prophecies relatively evenly, though I'll probably allocate slightly more time to romance.

[lordofshitposting]

I hadn't noticed that Inumaki has fangs until very recently. I'm definitely not the most observant person tbh. In JJK vol. 0 his fangs were OBVIOUSLY there like how the fuck did I miss that

I haven't read vol. 0, I've only watched the movie, but I have seen pictures, so I still should have noticed it. For some reason they just didn't add them?? I guess they thought he looks better without them, but still they took something that adds up to his uniqueness away from him #FuckYouMAPPA. Although in the movie he looks way more handsome, I gotta give them that

Now let's talk about the main series and manga. In the manga, Gege just?? Has them removed them in some panels and visible but way more subtle in others?? Maybe he too thought this way he's better

In the anime, as we know, they're non-existent (🙄), expect in a few scenes where they are noticeable but very subtle again.

Considering that in the JJK fanboook it's said that Maki's hair-length changes depending on how Gege feels like drawing her at the moment, and he's said that something changes about other characters depending on how he feels too (I don't remember what exactly or who he said that for, forgive me guys), it is not surprising. Anyhow, it's disappointing :( his fangs are so cool like oh my god, now that I'm finally aware of their existence I'm so obsessed. We won't see much of him in S3 so there's no hope of that changing. And he doesn't have them in any fanart either, which means is that there are artists that prefer him without his fangs too but I think it's way more likely that they haven't noticed them either. We can't change the world but we can change ourselves! Let's make it our duty to spread awareness!! 🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡

[kaleuh]

boys are just . not real

[knifearo]

i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as a binary i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as a sliding scale of "less" to "more" i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as the only two options i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as significantly different things i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as all encompassing i hate the concept of platonic and romantic as the two halves of a shallow concept of love that doesn't actually encompass anything at all i think we need to overhaul every popular conception about "types" of love so we can talk about things that are real and true for once

[hopeswriting]

was thinking about takeshi and how he's my favorite brand of unconditional devotion btw. the utter and absolute and all-consuming kind that runs so deep to the very core and is so intrinsic and fundamental to it, it can only express itself in the most casual and natural and certain way. without second thoughts, without any room for doubts or for any moral dilemma to be had over it, because of course he ought to always be breathing and living for his chosen person first and foremost. of course he ought to hang on their every word and make them true no matter what, no matter what he has to do to make it happen, no matter what he has to do to other people to make it happen, and no matter what it might turn him into in the process. because it's obviously the way the world should be for his chosen person. at their feet, ready to bend over backwards and break and build itself again to better answer to all their needs even if they don't ask it for it. it's the only right way it should be for them, and of course takeshi's going to do his utmost at all times to make it a reality as much as possible.

and his devotion comes out as naturally as breathing, comes out lighthearted and nonchalant like he might as well be talking about the weather, but it's not unaware of itself. it's not that takeshi doesn't know it's unhealthy and wrong and that he's willing to go entirely too far in its name for anyone's good. it's not that he wouldn't hear you out if you were to sit him down and explain to him just why he needs to tone it down a little (a lot). logically, he'd agree with you and know you're right. and then he'd tell you he's still not going to do anything whatsoever about it. that he's not bothered by it and doesn't feel the need to change anything to his attitude. makes it a point to never let anyone or anything sway him even an inch in the stand he took when it comes to that, no matter how many thousand of times you might go over the subject with him.

because the morality of his devotion isn't the point at all. is entirely irrelevant to it and doesn't affect the way he expresses it all. it's not the metric with which he draws a line in the sand to hold it accountable to. because the thing is, takeshi's entire world revolves around tsuna--tsuna is his entire world altogether, and it's just a matter of fact, that simple. to him it's a truth as unchanging as the sky being blue, and so being the way he is according to that truth is the only way he can imagine being that'd feel right to him. and so the actual and only metric that matters here is "would tsuna be happier if i were to do this?" and/or "is this something tsuna needs me to do?"

and like. i don't think takeshi ever stops being a kind person capable of compassion and understanding and mercy and forgiveness even ten years later once they became mafia through and through. and i don't think either he grows up to be feared and called a monster per se despite the things they inevitably had to do during those ten years (and the things they'll inevitably keep having to do as long as they keep being mafia), at least not in the way, for example, they'll never stop fearing and calling mukuro one. but i do think that among the tenth gen, he ends up being the one with the most ruthless, merciless and horrific blood on his hands of that particular and distinct loving kind. you know the one i mean, right? he comes to be the one most expected and the one first expected to be willing and to take it upon himself to go through with it when the need arises. and to think little of it after, if anything at all. all in the name of making tsuna's reign as easy on him as possible.

and it's to the point where it's the kind of blood that makes even mukuro pause at times. or, when takeshi is the one coming up with solutions himself during meetings, makes even reborn blink. not because it's unjustified or wouldn't be safe or efficient or anything of the sort, but because it is unwarrantedly thorough in its retaliation. and sometimes, at times like this, he's the one tsuna needs to step in for the most, because he's the only one who can reason with him that "yes, this would work in getting rid of our problem" but "no, please, don't do that takeshi". because if tsuna is the only thing that infers on just how much and in what ways he'll let himself be devoted to him, then of course, he's also the only one takeshi's willing to reign himself in for without second thoughts. because he'd hate to ever do something tsuna would disapprove of or wouldn't want him to do. or do something that'd make tsuna see him differently or love him back less even in the slightest.

and it's also like. his devotion isn't an undisciplined one. it's not one he doesn't have control over, the very opposite. it's a very purposeful and conscious choice he chooses to keep making over and over again every step of the way, and he taught himself to have control over it, to know when it's needed and/or wanted, and how much and in which ways it is when it happens, and to keep it down otherwise. and, yes, to also reign it back in at tsuna's request at times when it still slips past his control. because it's all about making tsuna's happiness easier and secure and long-lasting, and never about burdening him with just how committed he is to do that.

so it comes down to this: takeshi willing to go above and beyond and more for tsuna unless tsuna explicitly asks him not to. and to tsuna needing to ask him not to every now and then. and to other people pointing out to him how too many times tsuna's already needed to stop him, and that maybe there's a hint for him to take there. and to takeshi seeing the hint, looking it straight in the eye and recognizing it for what it is and just. deciding it doesn't apply to him because it's all perfectly normal behavior to him. because it's the only kind of behavior that makes sense to him and feels right.

and so—to circle back to my first point—he can only express his devotion as naturally as breathing, so casually, almost like it's something inconsequential and not worth talking about despite how unmistakably it couldn't be further away from being the truth. it's the only way he could have always known how to express it, because, after all, who has ever taken time to ponder about the details and the hows of the way they breathe?

and i, for one, absolutely eat that shit up every time, thanks for coming to my ted talk <3

[astaraels]

why do people think Yevgeny wasn't Mickey's son? in 3x06 there was clearly no condom used (not that Terry probably would have let Svetlana stop to get one), but there's no reason to think she wasn't using condoms with her regular clients. it's not Svetlana's fault that she was a tool used to rape Mickey—the sole blame for everything that happens in that entire situation belongs to Terry Milkovich and him alone—so why does it feel like it's just another way for people to shit on Svetlana for something that wasn't in her control? it's not as though she'd asked to get pregnant in the first place...

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

I wanna know ur Fontaine msq criticisms 👁️👁️👂I’m all ears

I'm not sure if you wanted me to talk about this secretly or publicly but! Here I go!

The TLDR: Fontaine MSQ aestheticised prison, poverty, child abuse, the justice system/court and didn't properly address any of it.

More:

Focalors/Furina has way too much of a sympathetic angle for a dictator who's lets people drown with her inaction.

Neuvillette feels Bad for sentencing some people to death/prison, but that's it. He's one of the most powerful people in Fontaine. If he felt like there are systemic injustices, I.E sending an abused Child to prison, he should be the first person to DO something about it, not just cry and be sad so the audience can be like aw, that's complex character writing isn't it? No it's not! And guilt doesn't absolve you!!!!!!! (These are stuff we deal with in OTCOJ read my fic now /j)

Meropide has children in it, both Sentenced there (Wriothesley) and BORN THERE (Lanoire), and this is just a quirk of the place. Not only that, Meropide accepts prisoners of all genders and crimes. There are abusers and abuse victims in one place. Do you know how bad that is? How much potential for crimes to happen in a place like that— oh wait, Meropide isn't under Fontaine's jurisdiction. If you are assaulted as an inmate it literally means nothing to the court.

Wriothesley had no qualifications when he took over. Depending on how long he lived on the streets, how old he was when he killed his parents, how old he was when he was first taken in by the orphanage, etc, the man might never have more than 4–5 years of formal education. Sigewinne probably had to teach him how to write reports. And do Meropide's spreadsheets. Edit because I forgot to elaborate on this one: This isn't a point brought up anywhere, which is bad, because when poverty and incarceration robs you of a proper education (and the rights to vote in many places too, too, by the way), it reduces your prospects for jobs, reduces many people's ability to get a home etc etc. Wriothesley was just, narratively, Given his position.

Meropide is an industrialized prison, and they portray this as a good thing. Prisoners are paid in coupons for their labour, and this is also portrayed as a good thing.

The One-Meal-A-Day reform was something Paimon gushed about being so great of a perk, that people might want to go to jail for food (could be interesting and reflective of systemic poverty if MHY had brains, but they don't, so I was just Pissed because essentially all Paimon wanted to say was "Prison isn't so bad, but still don't go to prison guys! Prison labour is really hard!"). By the way, in most real-world prisons they are obligated to feed you three meals a day. Because that's how much food a human needs. MHY went with one meal just so they can say "if you want to eat more, you have to work." And then the welfare meal is a goddamn gacha. So imagine you're a starving child who's too weak to work in the fucking robot assembly line, and you wander up for your first meal in 24 hours, only to luck in with a shit one. I'd kill myself.

They wrote Wriothesley, who's a victim of the system, into a guy who's say shit like "I'm the Duke I can do whatever I want" for a cool moment where he choke-slams an inmate (I know he was a bad guy. But also, in copaganda when cops are violent/disregarding protocols, they are always only portrayed to do that against bad guys, so what does our critical thinking tells us about this one?) They wrote Wriothesley, who was an inmate of a prison so bad, so notorious that it is the literal boogeyman of Fontaine, that has a legal (???) fighting pit, with an administrator who abuses his position to be unreasonable, to willingly stay in the place and become an Administrator who would choke-slam an inmate while saying a cool line about how he has the power to do whatever he wants. They wrote him, the guy who had to be fed on the streets by melusines, to think one-meal-a-day was a good enough reform (while he spends god-knows how much on his boat). This wasn't a victim-turns-into-abuser narrative either, they want all this to be seen as positive character growth.

And then, the final kicker is, they gloss over his entire abuse. You can only read about these shit in his profile, which most people don't because they don't Have Him or doesn't care to unlock it/read it online, and they jammed his entire backstory into a flaccid info-dump at the end of his character story quest. This man isn't Allowed to feel abused and neglected and show any reaction to it within the narrative of Fontaine itself, because if they actually Gave Weight to what happened to him, they'd have to confront THE FUCKING JUSTICE SYSTEM they had NO PLANS on criticising. I don't think they ever explicitly said the fucking Crime-Theatre nonsense was Bad either.

I could go on, but this is already so long. But yeah, I hope this gave you an idea.