#COOL. WHO SET THAT SYSTEM UP IN THE FIRST PLACE

[alexanderwales]

One of the dominant models of magic and superheroes is that everyone has their "thing", what I would call a bespoke magic system, but is mostly just a power that sits orthogonal to all other powers. This crops up all the time, because it's really really good for having dynamic fights, for characterizing people through their powers, for having new surprises and twists, and just generally keeping things going.

It's adaptable to all kinds of genres. Superheroes are the obvious one, whether it's canonized as Quirks or just an aspect of the setting. But I'm pretty sure that the basic concept was first invented in anime, with marital arts settings, where every character had their own jutsu or whatever, or the system in theory is all about ki manipulation or equivalent exchange but in practice everyone has their own particular niche. You can slot this into urban fantasy, giving every vampire their own special Power, or you can have some magical fantasy thing where everyone has their own unique Semblance.

So this is all well and good, but it leaves us with a narrative hole, which is progression. Having a unique power is cool, because you can think of new uses for it, have unique matchups, etc., but it doesn't give you that juicy sense of becoming more, and if you're facing down terrifying villains with their own powers, then a god-tier power is just kind of ... random. Luck of the draw, rather than the consequence of a powerful will or keen mind.

You can strip out limitations and amplify effects, and this is cool and good, or you can lean back away from uniqueness and toward uniformity, which I think is sometimes the right call, depending on your narrative needs.

So you say that actually the guy who can swap places with someone and the guy who can cut people from a distance are both unwitting hyperspecialists in the same field of magic or whatever, and that in theory, with unlimited time to train and experiment and explore, each could do what the other does.

This allows for a lot of snazzy narrative stuff. Two intense rivals "learn" each other's techniques, or at least adapt them into their own technique. Maybe the guy who does teleport swaps never learns to cut from a distance, but his teleport swap incorporates a cut into it, slashing at the person he's trading places with. A widower incorporates aspects of his dead wife's power, a mentor passes down elements of his technique to all his students, a young protagonist has some angst about using the aspect he got from his abusive father, etc.

If powers are a reflection of character, then you get to physically manifest a character's relationship with other people.

[berah-ronah]

im not someone who thinks that jod has to be Sufficiently Punished in order for ATN to end well but it IS very funny to see ppl post things like “people are obsessed with punishing jod! I think the series isnt gonna end with him facing any major consequences, its gonna end with them solving [X problem that jod created, actively perpetuates, and has refused to stop doing when asked]”

[fiapple]

this is the only time i will ever speak about st on this blog, but the show should've centered around Kali & she should've been canonically sapphic.

(if you're in any way interested in what i actually mean, i suggest reading the tags. i tend to elaborate there more often than in actual posts- i'm trying to break the habit, but it's where we are rn.)

[lotus-slumbers]

Hi! I saw your requests were open, so I was wondering if you could write a yandere batfam where they kidnap the reader, but the reader is like, super chill about it, and the family’s reaction to this. Tysm!

🪼 anon

A Gentle Place to Land (Yandere! Batfam x Accepting! GN Reader)

Content warning: yandere themes, obsession, mentions of mental illness, mentions of loss of personal anatomy and drugging. Etc.

A gentle breeze caresses you, the sunlight a gentle kiss.

Here, you could experience such a thing. A thing so close to tranquility you would almost dare to say it was. Most, if ever put in your situation, would be losing their minds. Panicking. Begging and pleading with all they could to try and change their fate. To escape.

You knew such a thing wasn't possible. You knew it from the night they had taken you. Looking into the shadowy eyes of the cowl, before the dart had punctured the tender place below your ear and the drugs entered your system, turning the world dark and dreamless.

You knew. If not the fates, they had decided and that was more than you could fight.

But it was a lot better than it had seemed.

At first, it was a ploy. Trick your captors into believing you're not going to do anything stupid and build repor to get them attached so that they won't do anything too bad to you. Hopefully, gaining their trust enough to plot an escape and succeed.

Just like those movies and true crime TV shows you've seen; comply and wait it out, wait for your chance at freedom.

Your feelings started getting mixed up really soon after. Had you forgotten about what Stockholm Syndrome was or had you been blind to the truth in the first place?

Maybe it really wasn't that bad...

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

An almost comically large sunhat place over top your head, feet propped up on the end of the chair and a cold drink in hand. You didn't even care for the sets of eyes lingering on you, you were used to strange people giving you strange looks as you went about your day in Gotham.

They know this isn't a normal person's reaction and they're worried, most waiting for this little peace to be completely discarded once the shock of the situation passes and you truly understand what has happened. Others are trying to pick apart your phycology to see if maybe, just maybe, something really is different up in that head of yours.

You? Well, you're just sipping on your cool drink before the heat makes the ice melt. You don't want Alfred's signature juice cocktail (non-alcoholic, of course, because you'll probably never be seeing a drop of that in your life again) to get watered down and ruined.

"Are we sure we didn't give then to much of that— um," Tim stalled for a moment, giving your impartial face a once over before deciding the trajectory of his sentence. "—sleeping medicine? Maybe it messed with their nervous system or something?"

"I hate to admit it but I think Drake is onto something here. I mean, who in their right mind would ever submit to this tomfoolery? Willingly being stuck with you all? Father and I, I can understand, but—"

"I never thought you'd ever agree with Tim," Jason grinned, making Damian's face turn sour.

Dick moved behind your seat, leaning down and squishing your face between his hands.

"Nothing's wrong with them!"

You gave a bright, closed eye smile that only served to further concern the man watching from the nearby window.

His butler placed a hand on his shoulder when he gave an exhausted sigh. Although, the makings of a smile did seem to tug at the corners of his lips.

"I'll make another therapy appointment, Master Bruce."

Should he be concerned about your nonchalant appearance or was it just your nature? Has some trauma happened to you previously to make you this way? Was it a trick that he was just having trouble seeing through?

Or was he overthinking this all again? Instead of overthinking it and coming up with more safety measures and plans to keep all the way he envisioned, he should be out there with his kids.

Even if it was just all a trick, there was no way you could manage to outsmart or outrun all six of them.

Bruce shook his head, sitting his drink down on the counter and heading towards the door.

"Don't bother."

[cusimmrbrightside]

I have always liked the idea of the school for mutants being very literally a school, and I know yes it is but I mean in the sense of if you want to be an X-men, you have to be a teacher. They have exams at the end of years, they have Ofsted checks (for those who don’t know what they are, it’s essentially people coming to check that the school is good at being a school) and they have teachers for every subject, which brings me to my next point;

“I’m Right You’re Wrong, Here’s What The X-Men (‘97 specifically) Would Teach As Subjects”.

(Also this is based off of UK school system but I use American terms like “seniors” and “AP” and “Midterms”)

Maths Teacher Gambit is surprising, for a guy most assume to not being entirely smart, an idiot goof off who’s the comedic relief. But you need to know numbers to gamble, and that he does with being very well versed in mathematics way past an AP level. He’s made the promise for every senior class that he will teach them to play blackjack on the final day, and has only ever lost once. Which is when the rule of “no betting real money” came into place.

English teacher Jean reminds me of the kind of teacher who would let the social outcasts into her class for their lunch breaks. The kids more likely to be bullied and she will fight tooth and nail to make sure those kids bullies don’t come into that classroom. they’re loud and shout and shouldn’t really be in there but no one has to know and she certainly won’t be telling them to leave any time soon.

Physics teacher Magneto is very specific to my highschool experience I’ll be honest. I had a physics teacher who was an actual Dr with a PHD and he hated being there. His classroom has (well, had since the building was knocked down about 5 years ago now) this one cabinet that was never fully shut, it was always open just about an inch or two, and he’d stand with his foot hovering just above it and then slam down on it whenever we got too loud so the noise would shut us up. That’s very magneto coded. Erik Lehnsherr would purposefully make the cabinet always a little open so he can do that.

Biology teacher morph is just a funny concept, a person whose physical form and change and morph into just about anything. They are considered one of the “fun” teachers, you could easily convince them to let you watch a movie all class as long as it was biology centred, but with classics like Osmosis Jones, you’re not stuck watching a documentary about animals giving birth.

Chemistry teacher Storm does not fuck about with children’s education. She is not strict by any means whatsoever, she just will not bend to someone saying they want to watch a film or should do a practical instead of theory. She has a set curriculum. She knows what she will be doing by the first week of the summer holidays and already has the room set up all pretty and organised.

Geography teacher Scott has the unfortunate job of telling his students that, they just won’t be looking at memorising country flags and politics. But hey!! Rocks are cool!! Beach shores are cool! Lake formations are cool! He’s the vice principal and designated nerd teacher. He once beat the elite four for a student on their copy of Pokémon Red because the student promised they’d do well in their midterms. Yes, he was in his 30s when the game came out, he doesn’t care.

History teacher Logan is a walking fun facts book. He’s exhausted, goes on smoke breaks on every gap of time he has, dislikes his job and will randomly get passionate about one specific topic, and will then dedicate his next 4 classes to that topic. Having been through a lot of modern history with personal experiences, he’s able to bring a lot of souvenirs to show his classes. Bullets, helmets, clothes he once wore hundreds of years ago, his personal memories of basic inventions like the vaccine.

PE (physical education) teacher Rogue is full of fun sports games, you can join any kind of sports team you can imagine and if you ask nicely enough, she’ll put Just Dance on a projector in the sports hall so you can just play that instead of actually play an actual sport. As long as you leave her class exhausted and without time to have a shower before your next class then she’s succeeded in making whoever your next teacher is absolutely miserable (bonus points if it’s Logan with his enhanced sense of smell).

Art teacher jubilee does believe that there is a right way to critique art. And she can be a little in your face about it. She does think you can have wrong opinions especially when it comes to your own art. If she overhears you saying you didn’t something wrong, she’ll scream into a megaphone “adapt, improvise, overcome!”. There are no mistakes! She’s eccentric, bubbly, creative and brilliant, the only one suited for the job.

It wouldn’t be a school without budget cuts. That’s why Nightcrawler is both the languages and religions teacher and he’s beloved at both. He comes up with roleplay scenarios the students can play to help learn their chosen languages, he has varied religious texts in his room and when he says to the students “I’ll pray for toy during exam season” he’s not actually joking.

(I forgot about Hank I’m actually going to cry he’s one of my favourites and I forgot about him. He’ll be in pt two or smth.)

[mr-walkingrainbow]

DESCENDANTS: The Rise of Red! (or the REAL hidden story in the movie + what’s gonna happen in the sequel THEORY!)

So we ALL watched the movie right? We ALL thought the plot sucked and the movie ended abruptly with a underwhelming climax?

WELL HERES WHY WERE WRONG!

So I did some really deep thinking, and I figured, these writers can’t be THAT stupid? The director can’t be THAT idiotic, lame, and boring? That would just embarrass Disney, not to mention all the well respected actors that are in this!

So I thought hard. I thought hard and I thought long. Like hella long. And I tallied up all the plot inconsistencies, all the weird explanations, all the very specific lines in songs, and I did it. I fixed descendants rise of red! I FIGURED IT OUT!

So!! Here it is! What TRULY happened that crowncoming night! And what going back in time actually did!

(I intentionally put a keep reading so if anyone wanted to avoid spoilers they can)

So! Now that we’re under the keep reading. Anything spoilerly can be said!

So first things first. The biggest theory everyone is saying.

ELLA DID IN FACT POISON BRIDGET!

Yes! I said it! We all thought the movie was leading to this! So it was underwhelming when it was revealed it was Uliana and her crew were the origins behind the prank.

OR WERE THEY?

We all saw that once they opened the book; they were frozen. Because they were ‘bad’ and Merlin’s security system was set into place.

And many of you came up with the giant plot hole that this would have happened REGARDLESS of whether Red and Chloe interfered.

AND YOUR RIGHT!

This sole reason, is why the group COULDNT have done it! Not only were they frozen, but they couldn’t read the recipe, and were properly sent to detention, ergo exonerating them from being at the dance! Meaning their was literally no way they could have been behind the prank!

So with them being withheld from the dance, who could it be? Who was the one person who was originally at the dance, but now no longer could be? What was the one actual change that Red and Chloe set off?

ELLA. AND THE VASE!

We all see that when the two go into Ella’s house, Chloe knocks over a Vase. Breaking it. Lady Tremaine GROUNDS Ella! Meaning that she COULD NOT go to the dance!

This DIDNT happen originally! Meaning Ella DID go to the dance in the original timeline! Which is proven when Cinderella (I’m calling Adult Ella, Cinderella) talks to The Red Queen (I’m calling Adult Bridget The Red Queen) about how the prank being pulled was wrong. She had first handed knowledge of the prank. AND she told Chloe she fell in love with Charming at the dance.

But! Since Ella is the only difference in the two timelines in regarding to the dance, this is PROOF that she was the one who actually pranked Bridget, NOT Uliana and her crew!

So here’s what I think happened!

Ella, who saw Bridget being bullied about the cupcakes, and saw Uliana take all the cupcakes. And promptly being threatened by Uliana. Decided to bake Bridget something to cheer her up. However Bridget literally has all of the cookbooks in auradon. As shown. So she snoops around and finds Merlin’s cookbook! (Because it’s also shown she’s okay with breaking the rules if it’s for a good cause. From her get our hands dirty song!) and double and, the book WOULD open for her because she is a good person. AND she was doing it for a good reason!

she flips through the book and finds some simple blase recipe that cheers Bridget up. Maybe gives her cool hair (Red hair??). Something simple but sweet.

However. While doing this, she happens to see the Monster food recipe. She doesn’t look at it for long of course. Just enough to remember it’s a thing.

BACK TO BRIDGET!

Now! I swear to whatever’s out there that the person who played Chloe said there was a queer character in Dedcendants 4. I can’t find it now but it was some tumblr or insta post. I know cause I immediately told my friend afterwards.

Anywho. I think Bridget is the queer character! We see in the movie her only friend was Ella. Not only that but she YEARNS for someone to care about enough to ask her out (in a romantic way like charming just tried to do for Ella) Ella, who again. Is Bridget’s only friend. And ergo, shows her love no one else does, IMMEDIATELY asks her to go to the dance with her! (Might have said as friends in the other timeline too. Who knows)

But! This only makes Bridget’s crush on Ella even BIGGER. And she falls in love with her! She probably thinks they might have a chance!

This is also somewhat proven by The Red Queens song ‘Love Ain’t It’

Title ; Love Ain’t It

Red : “With all the Grief you’ve experienced”

Red (Speaking of Cinderella) : So you Knew her?

The Red Queen : I saw through her. Cinderella and I were classmates in a way.

(Notice how she uses Ella’s mocking name after she has time to recover from the interaction. She said ELLA originally when she caught her off guard. Also. The line. I SAW THROUGH HER. It’s a double edged sword. Saw through her fronts. Saw the hurting girl inside. Saw through her LIES saw the mean girl behind)

Proven by the next lines

The red Queen : I spent way to much time in this place

So I had to escape

the people might smile

but their two faced, too fake.

Girl was relentlessly bullied and betrayed by someone she loved

And Ella Knows it.

Cinderella : Some people act mean at first, because their too afraid to feel

[the reverse is also true]

Cinderella : Look hon. Back in high school, a mean prank was played

And ever since that fateful day

She was never the same, it’s quite a shame.

So the Red Queen sings a whole song about how Love isn’t it. And we ALL KNOW that her only connection to love as a kid was through ELLA. meaning Bridget HAD A CRUSH on Ella. Was IN LOVE. With Ella.

So. How did Crowncoming originally happen you ask?

Here’s my theory

Ella and Bridget go to the dance. They are happy! They have fun. Bridget falls further in love with Ella. Meanwhile. Ella falls in love with Charming!

Her and Charming hit it off. And Ella starts to feel loved and appreciated for the first time in her life.

Then, Bridget performs her ‘Shuffle of Love’ dance. All the attention is on her! Even Charmings.

Ella feels robbed. She feels jealous. She feels angry that her friend is stealing the one good moment she is finally having to herself.

And so she briefly remembers the spell. And in a moment of error, she either A. Remembers the recipe already and makes the recipe. Or B. Re-Sneaks back into the office to see it. However I’m going with A because the book wouldn’t have opened again for Ella because of her bad intentions.

Whichever way. Bridget eats the baked treat. (I think it was a cupcake. Ella could have lied and said it was from the earlier batch)

And then. IT HAPPENS! Bridget is turned into an ugly terrifying monster. Everyone LAUGHS at her. Everyone makes fun of her

And Bridget, who is confused, understands only ONE person could have done this to her. She looks at someone she was in love with. And just sees Ella and Charming laughing. Laughing at her. Bonding over laughing at HER.

Bridget runs off. In tears. Broken inside. With an equally broken heart.

Maybe if Ella had immediately realized her error and run after her she would have turned out differently. But no. It is proven that Ella stayed at the dance and stayed with Charming. They wouldn’t have had the chance to fall in love if she left.

So Bridget. Spends the rest of the night terrified. Looking like a monster. And being laughed and screamed and made fun of everywhere she goes. And not only that. But her ONLY FRIEND. Her CRUSH. Someone she TRUSTED did this to her

Now THIS! THIS is something can break a person. This is something that can change their views on the world. On humanity itself. She was a kind girl. Was kind to everyone no matter how meanly they treated her. But through it all, Ella was her rock. Her friend. Her secret love. Someone who was good and kind through it all.

But she betrayed her. Tbe one nice person betrayed her. Showing that being nice doesn’t do it. Being nice does not mean good things happen. Being nice doesn’t is worthless if this is what it gets you. Everyone is two faced. And the only thing that’s real. The only thing she CAN feel. Is hurt. And pain. And fear. And so that’s what she swears to become. That’s what she swears to do. Be mean and cruel and heartless so she never has to feel all this pain ever again. So her eventual DAUGHTER never has to feel this again. It’s better to be alone and feared. Then alone and broken.

Ella probably realized the error of her ways the next day. But as she said. It was too late. Bridget was never the same.

This Explains why they had so many odd interactions. The raw feral burning chemistry between them. All the odd phrase. Why The Red Queen would be okay sending her BEST FRIEND to death. Why she would be okay killing her. And taking over auradon. To Her? Cinderella is the one who made her this way.

but also part of her still remembers. Still cares. It’s why she gave her once chance to kneel to her. (And as we’ve noted in the books and movies. She doesn’t give ANYONE else a second chance. She punishes I’m immediately and harshly)

And so! With all of this happening. Theirs gonna be some catylist in recent times. The Red Queen might be nice now. But something will have changed. Ella never went to the dance. (She clearly fell in love with charming somewhere else cause otherwise Chloe would have disappeared) but something happened when she wasn’t at the dance. Something that caused another problem. And THATS gonna be the sequel to this movie. Descendants : Rise of Red part two.

(as we’ve seen the official script for the movie is literally called Descendants : Rise of Red part one. MEANING they wrote it with the purpose of being part one to either a sequel or a threequal)

And THAT! Ladies and Gentleman, is what I think the REAL plot behind Descendants : Rise of Red is! A movie that is not idiotically not thought out at all, but really something so secretly genuis is blows your mind!

Hope you enjoyed!

[heartkaji]

WINBRE BOYS + THIRSTY TWEETS !

inc : sakura haruka, suo hayato , ren kaji, togame jo contains explicit language + celeb au

SAKURA HARUKA !

“ume’s left ballsack says : do you think sakura’s pubes are white or black or are they divided into both like his hair ?”

kill sakura now.

he’s a red cheeked mess of sweat & nervous system shivers. he’s practically hyperventilating as you laugh beside him, melting into a puddle of molten blush cheeks & ultraviolet bone. he shakes at a frequency not unlike ultrasound.

“oh my fucking god sakura—well ? what do you have to say to the fans ?”

you elbow the quivering boy. if you were any less of the devil you are you’d forcefully refuse the question or at least answer it in his place—you did know the truth firsthand after all. but you’re the serpent in the garden & seeing sakura squirm is like an apple down your throat. sakura is still blinking eyes & flushing nose & palms bleeding sweat bullets so you’ve had to grab the phone from his hands in fear it might fall from the way they quake & quiver.

“ what the fuck kind of question is this ? where are your parents ? guardians—?”

“baby, that question could apply to you too.”

“shut up !”

SUO HAYATO !

“slut4suo69 says : i need to know what’s under suo’s eyepatch. is he blind ? does he have some cool sexy scar ? does he have no eye at all ? not that i care. i’d fuck the shit out of his empty eye socket — three holes are better than two !”

“oh.”

you burst out laughing. this is the first time you’ve seen dagger mouthed suo hayato speechless. his mouth is hung agape as he seizes the phone from your hands & reads the tweet over & over again as if it’ll cause the digital ink to melt off & fly away. each time he reads his mouth gets drier & you swear you can see blisters bruling on his tongue.

“this is the most vulgar thing i’ve ever seen.”

“so true ! now answer it.”

you tuck your hair & dip your head over suo’s shoulders to get one last look at the tweet before facing the camera.

“though i can’t match your freak with the whole eye fucking thing, i too, slut4suo69, would absolutely love to know what’s under my boyfriend’s eyepatch.” you bat your lashes at the bedazzled brunette & loop an arm around his elbow. “the fans & i wanna know, suo. do tell.”

“i’m pretty sure i’ve told you this before, angel—“

“aht aht ! no thousand year old dragon bullshit, hayato. we promised to answer all the questions truthfully, remember ?”

suo heaves a sigh, breath heavy & chest tight as you rest your head on his arm. his thumb traces lazy swirls & zig zags over your knuckles.

“i see. if the fans wanna know, who am i to refuse, hm?”

REN KAJI !

“isagi solos your fave says : i need kaji to suck me the way he sucks his lollipops. hear me out y’all—his tongue swirling over your clit, teeth grazing your folds as he—“

“aight that’s enough,”

you giggle as kaji pulls out the phone between your palms. you reach over his lap for it, pathetic attempts to grab the device from his hands while kaji raises it higher & higher. his palm burns against your stomach to keep you away.

“i fucking hate the internet, bro. don’t y’all have hobbies ? friends ? occupations ?”

you’re giggling & snorting as kaji cusses out the camera. “and i swear, word to my mother that whoever wrote this is is like, twelve. what in the wattpad is this ?”

kaji pulls out the cherry red sucker resting in his cheek. “this shit don’t even taste sweet anymore, man.” he flings the candy angrily into a silver can sitting across the set.

you bury your head in the sleeve of his jacket, a red nosed, puffy faced mess of sweltering eyes & plum heavy cheeks. your snorts are muffled in the linen of his sleeves. “heaven knows i love my fans but fuck, i cannot wait for some of you to rot in hell.”

“god ren,” you clap your hands in between teary eyed giggles. “i’m trying to breathe baby please stop..!”

“fuck no. you horny bitches need to be euthanized. eradicated. like hello ? is this what our lord and savior jesus christ died for ? are these the kind of sins he repeatedly has to forgive ? he’s better than me for real cuz i can’t take this anymore.”

kaji walks off the set but you’re too busy wiping tears & sniffling nose to follow. “somebody ! tell him to come back..!”

TOGAME JO !

“kubzscouts is my wifey says : fellas is it gay to want togame jo to slide into you slowly, teasing your entrance with light strokes as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear like ‘you can take it baby, that’s a good girl’ as his big fat coochie crusher69 slips into—jo i don’t want to read this anymore.”

you look up at him with pretty peach painted lips bent into a pout. his palm stops teasing at your thigh momentarily before picking up again, “m’ not quite sure i want you to read it either, pretty.”

you report the account without even waiting for togame’s approval. he cracks a smile when he notices your cherry drenched cheeks & red dyed ears.

“someone seems jealous.”

“and i know that someone isn’t me jo, so which of your other a-b-c-d looking ass bitches are you talking about ?”

togame whistles playfully, palms trailing further up your thigh. his touch is a ghost burying your nerves in sap & soil. you pretend your skin doesn’t ache from the way he draws hearts on your knee.

“now, now. i think we both know i’m a loyal man, yeah ?”

“who’s we ? kubzscouts over here is describing bedroom you with awful precision.”

he lets out a boyish laugh. “she missed a few things, though. don’t i always kiss it first ?”

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

[amomentsescape]

OooooO! Could I get a Slasher X reader! Like where another "rival" Slasher gets interested in another Slasher's So?

When Another Slasher Becomes Interested in Reader

Brahms Heelshire x Reader

A/N: I decided to not go into specifics on who the "rival" slasher was since it would have involved a lot of background and explanation on why they were in the UK in the first place.

Brahms's jealousy and possession over you knows no bounds

He doesn't even want you within a 3 foot radius of the man whose only job is to drop off groceries

He enjoys having you all to himself, living in the middle of nowhere with only him as your company

He may be the one who needs to be taken care of, but that's not to say that he doesn't want you to rely on him too

He has always wanted you to seek out his protection

He loves to see you curl up beside him and just fully relax in his presence

In fact, Brahms is never satisfied unless he is fully enveloping you with an iron grip, making sure nothing else can touch you and you can't sneak away

So when the feelings of paranoia began, Brahms went into a frenzy

He triple checked the locks on all the doors and windows every single night

He set up a security system to prevent anyone from breaking in

He even stopped hiding within the walls during the day and instead spent 24/7 right next to you

You questioned his sudden change in behavior

He told you he could feel someone watching you two

He could tell that you weren't really alone anymore

This freaked you out a bit

Brahms may be childish, but he's not stupid

You began to trust his word a bit more after that

It wasn't until one day that you decide to slip out of the house for a couple minutes

Brahms refused to let you outside or to even open a window the past few weeks, and this was beginning to wear on you

The cool air immediately calmed you down, and you began to question what he was so worried about in the first place

But right as the thought crossed your mind, you heard a branch snap beside you

You immediately turned and saw a masked man standing there, his height towering over you

He had a massive blade in his hand that sent a shiver down your spine

In that moment, you knew you should have listened to Brahms

You turned to run, but the Slasher was faster

He grabbed you by the jaw and turned you towards him, forcing you to look at him

To your surprise, his grip loosened slightly as he began to rub his thumb along your cheek

The feeling was familiar in a way to what Brahms would do sometimes

But that didn't make the moment any less terrifying

You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but he kept a firm hold on you

Just when you were about to call out for Brahms, the Slasher was slammed to the ground

You could see Brahms and the Slasher in a tussle, rolling around in the dirt while the sound of hard hits and cracking knuckles echoed throughout the quiet forest

You were worried for Brahms since the other Slasher was just as tall and strong as he was

But to your surprise, Brahms got the upper hand

He slammed his fist over and over again onto the man's mask, causing it to crack and splinter into his skin

This distracted him for just long enough that Brahms could grab a large rock, forcing it straight into the man's forehead

All movement ceased, and Brahms sat there, breathing heavily

When he finally turned to you, you slowly walked over to make sure he was okay

Before you could even say a word, Brahms had you pinned to a tree

His hands snaked along your waist as he pulled you flush against him

His lips were on yours in a hurry, his kisses hungrier than you had ever felt them before

He'll most definitely lock you back inside the house for the foreseeable future after this, but at least for now, you can just relish in his possessiveness and desire

[palindrome-alt]

Digital Stars on The Wall

|| Kieran x Reader ||

Your new dorm room in Blueberry Academy is outfitted with all sorts of futuristic technology. You still haven't wrapped fully your head around the fact that you're physically stranded in the middle of the ocean in a giant submerged dome, but hey, whatever they did to make these screens, the night sky looks almost how it'd be if you were camping out in the wild on a cool night.

||Mild Spoilers for the Indigo Disk DLC!||

Everything about Blueberry Academy feels like it came out of a separate, futuristic world. The chromatic metal that never corrodes, the blue... substance, that flows through the artificial veins in the walls and keeps the place running... Out in the middle of the ocean, it's sort of like the whole megalithic building itself is somehow... alive.

Despite that, there's no electrical interference, no static hiss at the back of your ears as you rest your head against the artificial glass sky displayed on the 'window'. How the director managed to even design the illusion of depth in these screens is beyond you, but instead of square pixels, gentle pinpricks hang above you in the false distance. The fact that they aren't plastered flat to a screen is a mini engineering marvel in itself despite the slightly visible panels if you look closely.  Hand shifting out from underneath deep blue sheets, you run your palm over smooth, slightly grooved glass. It feels like touching a bunch of small bathroom tiles, and though you logically know that there's really only a deep dark ocean stretched out for miles, you almost forget just how far you are from the home you've carved out in Paldea.  You're still somewhat scared of the scientists of this world. Somehow, you don't remember civilization being this... technologically advanced.  Cool air blows through the vents above you, tasting nothing of the slightly salty expanse of water above. With their filtration systems, this might be some of the cleanest air you've ever breathed. It's sterile, much less handmade and aged than your dorm room back in Mesagoza. But somehow, this place has started to feel so comfortable, as if it weren't ever foreign in the first place.  The sound of rustling next to you shakes you out of your thoughts, and you shift back onto your back to get a closer look at Kieran, who you almost forgot was there.

He's stiff as a board, his arms folded on top of his chest, his eyes wide and staring straight at the ceiling.  Aside from his shoes, he's still wearing his full school uniform, and his hair has only just started to slip from the tie he's put it up in. He popped in rather unexpectedly, and must not've thought you'd let him stay, so he didn't think to change into more comfortable clothes. Small frazzled black bunches drape onto the extra pillow you pulled from the closet, and the off-color purple no longer remains the dominant color. 

You shift again, this time gaining his attention by curling against his side and nuzzling into the mattress a little more. He stiffens under the touch, but you can feel his sharp eyes flicker from the ceiling to you, a little more of an edge to him than before that he might not ever let go of. 

You don't move, and he must think you're asleep with how you catch his eyelashes gently lulling, spine slowly losing its tension. He must be so sore from all the clenching he's been doing, if not from how he's been pushing himself up until recently. The events that transpired between you are probably still haunting him, even now. With a fresh set of new skin-deep scars, you know it has to be hard on him. Up until last week, it wasn't even certain if you were both still friends.  He sighs beside you, head sinking into his pillow. Unclasping his hands, he slowly reaches over, testing the waters. He hesitates, looking conflicted over whatever thoughts are running through his head. Whatever he was going to do, he must've decided otherwise as his hand drops just short of you.

His eyebrows furrow, pupils dilating a little when they land on yours.  "S-Sorry." He flinches away, shifting his gaze.  You don't say anything, but the following silence between you isn't entirely comfortable like before. Inhaling deeply, he stiffens back up a little, pretending to look around the room though his focus is still on you. He can't seem to pay attention to anything else right now.

He's been so consumed with thoughts of you for so long that he's a little scared that he can't be normal about it.  You can't know that.  He tries forcing his eyes shut.  He won't be getting any sleep tonight. 

[seravphs]

棠 —

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — TEEN DAD! GOJO x FEM READER

Gojo has something to tell you. Megumi is unfortunately still a member of the male species. Tsumiki just wants to watch the sunset. 

wc — 1.5k

cw — interlude between tried to live in a softer way and stockholm (coming soon), 棠 means "wild plums", Megumi’s a good boy but he’s still a boy (gross), part of teen dad gojoverse, in which you and Gojo raise Megumi together, I lowkey forgot Tsumiki existed when I first started writing Teen Dad! Gojo so now I have to retcon her in 

Megumi’s mouth is smeared with purple pulp. 

“You better have washed that,” you warn him as you carefully cut Tsumiki’s fruit for her. Your knives drip juice onto the ground, requiring careful attention to make sure the sugar won’t rust them. 

Some cursed weapons are durable, outlasting generation after generation of the sorcerers that wielded them. Yours are more delicate. Like flowers, they require great care.

Tsumiki takes the slice you hand her with gratitude and pops it into her mouth with a little shiver of happiness. Her fingertips are turning purple to match Megumi’s lips. You pour a little water from your bottle over them, and place another slice into her mouth yourself. 

“A little dirt is good for him,” Gojo calls from where he’s wedged halfway inside the trunk, fighting for the folding chairs he threw in haphazardly. Now they’re stuck. You told him they would be, and he hadn’t listened. 

You make an unconvinced noise in the back of your throat, pursing your lips. He can’t see you, of course. 

“Germs are gonna make his immune system stronger. Eat up, Megumi!” 

Megumi wrinkles his nose and unhappily swallows his bite. The next time Tsumiki hands him a slice of her (washed) plums, he takes it. Nothing ever works as well on him like Gojo and inadvertent reverse psychology. 

After another minute of letting Gojo struggle to prove a point, you reach over and tug on a latch. The chair Gojo is struggling with snaps shut so you can effortlessly pull it out of the trunk. Gojo smiles sheepishly. 

“What did we learn from this?”

“Wife is always right?” He says cheekily. 

“Can I help?” Tsumiki pops up underneath your elbow. 

“It’s okay,” Gojo ruffles her hair. “We got it.” 

He pushes you gently away when you try to take a chair, carrying three singlehandedly to the spot where Megumi and Tsumiki are waiting with the picnic basket. You know he wants you to gush over him, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

You purposefully turn away to start setting out the food, only for him to saunter over as soon as Tsumiki and Megumi are sitting in their newly placed chairs. 

“Did you see that?” 

“You are the strongest, Satoru.” This is easy work for him. 

“Okay, but it’s still cool, right?” 

Sometimes you want to ignore him and sometimes you want to give in. Gojo, like Megumi is predictable. He needs the carrot and the stick. 

“Yeah,” you smile. “It was cool. You know what would be cooler?” 

He’s setting out the dishes before you even have to ask. 

You’re not fooled even though Gojo’s acting completely normal. As lighthearted and nonchalant as he is, anyone who didn’t know better would think there’s nothing in the world that could phase him, but you do know better. 

He’s not the type to share his issues, especially not when he thinks he can solve them on his own, which is what you think is going on here. It’s fine. 

You don’t press. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. 

“Someone’s coming,” Megumi announces. 

Gojo raises an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?” 

He looks away, eyes shifty. 

“You know you’re not supposed to be summoning your dogs in public!” You scold him. 

Technically, he’s not supposed to know anything about his technique yet. Young sorcerers aren’t allowed to use their technique if they’re not enrolled at Jujutsu High. Of course, it’s different for clans, especially big clans. None of the elders who sit on the council are going to punish one of their own for getting ahead of the game. In fact, they’re quite willing to turn a blind eye to anything that makes their clan more powerful, even if it means starting their young off early. Too early, in your opinion. 

Gojo disagrees with this judgement, as he disagrees with everything the elders say. He’s been training Megumi in secret, slowly getting him used to the Ten Shadows. The dogs, which Megumi’s manifested since he was young, were the first to become tamed. They’re the easiest for him to control, so he looses them more often than he should. Regardless of what Gojo thinks, it’s simply not safe. You don’t want to give the Zenins any reason to take Megumi and Tsumiki. 

Megumi calls his shikigami back. They evaporate into shadow just as an old couple hobble up the dirt path. 

“Oy, granny!” Gojo calls, ignoring you as you smack his arm. “You need a hand?” 

“I’m okay,” she calls back. “Don’t worry about me! Just taking my daily walk.” 

Gojo gives you an aghast look. 

“Why are they hiking up here? One of them is going to break a leg,” he hisses. 

“Are you sure?” You ask them hesitantly. 

“My, aren’t you sweet! I’m alright, hon. The fresh air will do these old bones some good.” 

Beside her, her husband nods in agreement. He seems like the silent type to her extrovert. 

“What’re you two doing up here?” She says, picking her way over. 

Tsumiki holds up her plate. “Picnicking!” 

“How cute,” the old woman coos as she pinches her cheek. 

“And you! Why, I could just eat you up,” she tells Megumi, who looks mildly alarmed, not at her words, but at her attention. He squirms in his seat. 

“Your little brother?” The couple smiles as you stiffen. It’s not their fault. They have no idea. 

“My son,” Gojo says, his own smile turning unpleasant. 

“Oh!” She seems to sense she’s made a mistake of some sort, taking her husband’s arm once more. “I’m sorry, you seemed so young. Well, I’m sure you want to get back to your picnic without these old folk. Be careful not to stay out too late! I hear there’s a storm brewing.” 

Her husband helps her carefully over the grass back on to the dirt path. She turns back to wave, just once. 

“That wasn’t nice,” you say, watching them leave. “They didn’t know.” 

Gojo rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” 

“Look!” Tsumiki jostles Megumi, who’s still focused on his food instead of the sky. “The sun is setting!”

Gojo picked a good spot. No trees obstruct your view of a sky stretching as far as the eye can see. As someone who’s lived in the city for so long, it’s almost a miracle to witness. 

The sky is awash in floral hues. Burnt orange, ashy lavender, and muted links spread throughout the clouds. You’re smiling, awestruck at the sight, when you hear a click. You turn back just in time to see Gojo shove his phone in his pocket. 

“Did you just take a picture of me?” 

“Nope! Why don’t you sit tight while I repack everything?” 

Even when you try to help, Gojo pushes you back in your chair. His little helpers dash back and forth from the makeshift campsite to the car until everything is safely packed away. 

When you finally get up and brush your lap off, Gojo offers you his arm. 

You laugh at him. “Come on, I don’t need that.” 

He pushes his arm in your direction again, insistent. He’s being such a baby today, but you can’t help spoiling him. You take it as he escorts you to the car and opens the door for you with a flourish. 

The kids don’t want to go home, but Gojo distracts them with promises of McDonald’s on the long, winding trip down the mountain. Megumi’s at that age where he knew better than to trust the strange white haired sixteen year old who offered to take him in but still gullible enough not to understand there are no McDonald’s on mountains. 

He and Tsumiki fall asleep in the back seat as the rain patters rhythmically on the windows. All around you, the earth is lush and verdant. You’re in Eden before the fall. It’s hard to stay mad when the forest is putting on such a show for you outside. The earth is blooming, beckoning. 

Gojo rolls down the sun roof so the warmth of weak sun beams shines into the car. If you look up, the rain beads on the glass like crystals on a backdrop of dove grey storm clouds. 

It’s still raining when you get home. 

Gojo carries Megumi and Tsumiki inside, one in each arm. It’s a testament to their sleepiness that neither protest. You drop a kiss on each cherubic little cheek as you tuck them into bed, pressing the covers down around them. 

Gojo’s waiting in the kitchen when you quietly close their bedroom door. 

“I have something to tell you,” he says almost half-heartedly, looking out the window. “But you have to promise not to be mad.” 

You knew it. 

Whatever it is, you’re sure you can take it. You and Gojo have been through the worst of everything together, from a bullet in the shoulder to whiney, feverish children. There’s nothing you can’t handle to keep your little family together. 

“The Zenins want to take Megumi away,” he blurts out. 

Okay, maybe that wasn’t what you were expecting, but it’s fine. You can make it work. 

“They’re coming tomorrow.” 

You’re going to kill him.

[bardicbird]

Working on my own Disco Elysium skills! Individual art pieces and descriptions (in the style of the game) below the cut :]

DIALECTICS

Examine verbal landscapes. Get to the truth of the matter.

Cool for: Logicians, Philosophers, Asshole Devil’s Advocates

Dialetics urges you to look beyond the basics of conversation. It encourages you to discuss theories, truths and falsehoods, until you exhaust everyone around you with your sheer affinity for taking the most convoluted routes to your deductions—but, hey, it works! Those people are only *really* annoyed because you very accurately psychoanalyzed them.

At high levels, Dialectics will help you reason with even the most convoluted of situations. You will be an unstoppable detective, who may occasionally suffer from some unintended side effects such as: your brain and mouth moving too fast, overcomplicating little things, becoming an insufferable jerk, and joining your local debate team. With low levels of Dialectics, you’re going to have a difficult time seeing through both worldly and interpersonal deceptions. You may find yourself being taken advantage of. 

EVOCATION

Recall emotions and imagery. Paint complete pictures of the past. 

Cool for: Visualizers, Chronic Observers, Witnesses Of Crimes

Evocation allows you to call forth memories that may otherwise be lost in the recesses of your mind. Previous instances of sound, touch, taste, feeling, sight—all of these are at your beck and call: able to be summoned within and around you in a great miasma of experience. You will be able to relive important events, even those that were only mere seconds, and examine them closer to reveal what you couldn’t comprehend in the moment. 

At high levels, Evocation will help you reimagine scenes that may have happened years ago, lasted the length of a blink—or, perhaps, even allow you to picture memories that you were not present for. You will find yourself constantly transported to the past: a single whiff of a familiar perfume enough to completely derail your senses. With low levels of Evocation, you’re going to have a hard time remembering simple conversations and potentially important visual details. You will have to rely on others in such scenarios. 

BODY OF LAWS

Know your rights. Remember fun courtroom trivia. 

Cool for: Lawyers, Law-Evaders, Stick-In-The-Muds

Body Of Laws is responsible for your ability to follow the law at any given time—or don’t! Just because you know the rules doesn’t mean you have to play by them. Regardless, it certainly allows you to recall a, frankly, embarrassing amount of your government’s regulations, and may encourage you to ‘stay in your lane’, so to speak, regarding them. Governments aren’t the only entities that enact rules, though: you will also find yourself privy to understanding unspoken boundaries set by people, nature, and even your subconscious self.

At high levels, Body Of Laws will either make you an *extremely* insufferable goody-two-shoes, or a *wildly* effective cheat-of-the-system. You may end up feeling suffocated by all these restrictions you can so clearly see, causing you to become complicit with the movings of the machine—or potentially apathetic to why we need some of these restrictions in the first place. With low levels of Body Of Laws, you may find yourself accidentally violating boundaries you didn’t know existed—whether they be legal, personal, or cultural. 

[succubus-nini]

GIRL- ok first of all hello. So I was thinking of a fan fiction about Miguel x reader but Miguel is your parents’ close friend and you are at a ceremony all together after many years and he doesn’t take his eyes off of reader, so then they get alone and he fcks reader hard (not sure if you have already written one like this sorry if I didn’t see it) ❤️❤️

A/N-Im sorry it took me nearly a year to finish this babes

You and Miguel? You really didn't know, Miguel was only known by you because of your mother and father who favored him. It's funny actually, because they would always tell Miguel to watch out anytime he was near you. You were a wild child, always getting into something, and VERY MUCH petty. One time, Miguel had stepped on your precious (pet's name) paw, and you proceeded to make him think he was going insane the next three days by staying in his room and hiding whenever he checked.

He found out through you yourself, since you walked up to him one day with a sly grin. "How do you like my ghost act?" Were the words that made him connect the dots. Its safe to say he's over it, but he still checks his closet anytime he's going to bed because of it. You scarred the man for life. You haven't seen the man in years after your parents decided to move you to a place a couple cities away.

Your parent's fiftieth anniversary was approaching, and your aunts had planned a surprise party for when they got back, As you were helping prepare, you heard a familiar voice call your name. "Y/n?" Miguel said, his eyes wide in recognition. He hadn't seen you in a while, suddenly feeling his longing for you starting to sink back into his system as his heart raced upon seeing you again. So close to fuck touch but not yet, he'd have to control himself until the right moment.

You turned around and smiled, you had missed your favorite playmate. "Miguel!" You squealed, pouncing on the taller being. The man caught you and chuckled, putting you down. "Long time no see." He said, a joyous expression being seen in his eyes, even if his face said otherwise. "It has been! Did you miss me?" You questioned, leaning forward. Miguel caught sight of your cleavage from that specific motion, and started to blush.

He cleared his throat and nodded. "I missed some of you, not your troublemaking ways." You rolled your eyes and shoved a box into his hands. "Well, in that case, You can go help in the house with the decorations, Miguel." You huffed, pretending to be mad as you kept setting up the tables. Miguel chuckled, seeing right through your façade, and went inside to talk with your uncle on what to do with the box of decorations he had.

Soon, your parents came back. When they entered the house, everybody jumped out and shot them with hand held confetti cannons, "HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!" Everybody yelled enthusiastically, their smiles lighting up the room as your parents laughed and thanked everyone. Your cousins ushered your parents outside, everyone following behind them to get the party started.

While everyone else was dancing, Miguel was sitting on the sidelines, watching you while taking occasional sips of his drink. Every movement you made was memorizing to him, his eyes unable to leave your swaying form. After a bit, You got tired and went inside. You decides to stay in your room for a bit, since the dancing portion had stopped and everyone started fixing plates for themselves and others to eat.

Miguel had followed you inside, his head buzzing with thoughts about you. Unknowing to his intentions, you invited him into your room, sitting on your bed and getting comfortable as you turned the TV on. It wasn't long before he sat on the bed too, his eyes never fully leaving your form.

The room started to feel warm when you noticed his gaze on you, his eyes basically eating away at your being and undressing you before himself. You fanned yourself, trying to cool down your heating face. "Its a bit warm in here isn't it," You gently giggled, turning to Miguel. The larger man groaned and grabbed you, tugging you onto his lap before pressing his lips against your own.

If you were warm before, you were burning up now; Everything was so hot, his tongue inside your mouth as he pushed you down, his hands on your skin as he tugged your dress off and fondled your breasts, the air around him as his own clothes joined your dress on the floor. It was all so fuzzy, your brain couldn't even properly process what was happening until Miguel parted from your lips and made his way between your legs, leaving a kiss every inch he descended.

"Miguel not there.." You whined, tugging at his hair as he began to lap at your core, his tongue diving between your folds to bring your arousal into his mouth. You could tell he was good with his mouth just by the way we worked his tongue inside you all while using his lips to suck on your puffy clit. You felt a odd feeling, a tightening in your lower stomach. "M-Miguel..-" You stammered, trying to warn him but it was all in vain. You're cumming on his face before you know it, your head hitting your headboard with a thud as the pleasure washes over you in waves.

Miguel lifted his face to look at her before pressing another kiss to your face, you liquids still o his tongue. He had to prep you, he knew he was bigger than average and that you'd need something to help with the stretch. He had some lube in his bag, which was also on the floor, so he retrieved it. His eyes were clouded with lust as he poured some on your throbbing cunt, making sure his hand was coated as well before sinking a finger into your heat.

He soon sunk a second finger into you, working you open slowly but surely. When he was able to get a fourth finger into you, he was satisfied with his work. He stroked his cock a few times, preparing it for what's to come. He slowly pushes his tip into your entrance, groaning as he he went deeper inch by devastatingly delicious inch. "Oh Mi Alma.." He whispered in your ear when he bottomed out in you, staying still to let you adjust to his girth.

He waited for a sign from you, anything to let him know that you're ready. It wasn't long before he got the green light from you, immediately pulling out until the tip was the only thing inside and slamming into you. It felt so good to have you under him, to mark up and grab onto your soft skin as he ravaged you. He kept biting you on whatever he could reach while thrusting into your deepest parts. Your shoulders, throat, and breasts were all bitten and sore from his relentless attack on them.

He picked up the pace, ramming into you with such force you could barely breathe. He wanted you to cum, he wanted you to tighten around him and milk his cock for every drop he could give you. His hips moved roughly against yours, the sound of skin against skin getting louder as time passed. The feeling of his teeth sinking into your skin, his cock drilling into your abused cunt, his hands squeezing your hips was all too much for you.

Your legs shook as another orgasm crashed onto you, your hands grabbing at the sheets as a cry fell from your lips. Miguel was soon after, not lasting too long when he was getting squeezed by you. "Fuck.." He mumbled, gently pulling out and watching as his cum seeped from your hole. He had half a mind to plug you up again, but hearing a small whimper from you quickly snapped him out of it. He got up and dampened a rag from your bathroom, cleaning you up. When he finished his aftercare, he kissed your forehead, watching you sleep. "Te amo, alborotadora." He said before falling asleep with you in his arms.

[mekatrio]

cuz at first ajaa wasnt even meant to exist it was just meant to be the trilogy and thats it, then while theyre porting it over to the nintendo ds capcom gives them the green light to go nuts with a bonus pseudo-dlc case and By God Do They, making the longest case yet of RFTA with fully animated 3d cutscenes + an incredibly convoluted plot that makes the most out of aa1's 3 day trial system + fully modelled 3d rotational evidence, hitting heavy themes of police corruption and evidence forgery and whatnot like they went INSANE, cuz this was supposed to be IT. this was supposed to be ace attorneys big finale and farewell but SIKE oh my god the actual Ministry Of Justice has knocked on capcoms door and told them hey can you make some propaganda for us. so now the aa team has to make propaganda for them. right after burning themselves the fuck out from creating rfta. all that time spent on rfta which couldve been development time for ajaa.... too late. cant be taken back. apollo justice is designed in less than a week and theyre marketing this game while the team is still making it, takumi crazed madman that he is decides to not rely on old characters which while that is an artistic slay, sets up the stage for a marketing failure, and a new artistic team of infinite ambition goes nuts with creating derangedly detailed animations

⬆️ like oh my god are you insane. thank you so much BUT ARE YOU INSANE? all while still making 3d renders of evidence and random 3d animations and it looks so awesome BUT THERES NOT ENOUGH TIME, 3 wonderful cases are made but 4-4 falls on its face. 6 hours long instead of the usual 10 and only one cross-examination in the final trial and 2 whole main characters with no backstory like its bad. its going to be bad. but its too late. the most incomplete ace attorney game has to be rushed out of the gates and the sales are made But The Reception Is Bad. Real Bad. 2000s hater gamer crowds were the first of its kind, being massively fuelled by the internet, haters back then could sink their teeth deep into a company, which is what got nintendo scrambling away from their wind waker art direction to appease the gamers w twilight princess. so similarly when the hate for ajaa came on, cuz whattt phoenix disbarred and no 😤 old characters 😤😤, capcom scrambled to appease the masses. but oh oh whats this? takumi says 'yeahhhh Nah' and says he wants to make a game about his dog. OK. cant persuade him away from that. might as well let some new blood handle the franchise in takumi's place then, but for The Love Of God do not make an ajaa followup. the gamers will kill us. and so the aai duology was born....... cool........ first one's reception was so bad that localization plans were dropped entirely for the sequel. wow. takumi is fresh off from ghost trick but fucking what, 5 years has passed now, and the new hot console is the nintendo THREE ds. 3ds. wowwww. fucking... PROFESSOR LAYTON kidnaps takumi to make plvpwaa and ajaa continues to be left in the dust. fucking nobody wants him. poor orphaned kitten left in the street. all while the trilogy gets 9584948 million adaptations. and yamazaki twiddles his thumbs thinking abt making aai3 but after thinking it over hes like yeah ill try making aa5. capcom lets him and.......... its over........ they tell him sure go for it But Do Not Follow Up On Apollo Everyone Hates Him please make phoenix the protag. a recipe for disaster. and a disaster aa5 is. juggling THREE protags a complete mess and they do a popularity poll and wow would u look at who came first, fucking APOLLO. JUSTICEEEEEEE. its almost like.... gamers opinions..... are not valuable in the long run.. and popular opinion has never signified artistic understanding.... aa6 comes chugging along and yamazaki addicted to racism cranks out something even worse. both aa56 makes the sales it needs but mindless fanservice can only get u so far... its been nearly 10 years since the ajaa 'trilogy' titles released and the general consensus is that Aaja Was Good and aa56 Not So Much but what can you do now? heres the apollo justice trilogy please buy it and deeply lower ur expectations for coherent and cohesive narratives which have basis in reality thank u. bc u will not be finding that here. ajaa never stood a chance.. they werent doomed by the narrative. its worse. they were doomed by STUPID FUCKING GAMERS AND STUPID EXECUTIVE DECISIONS 😭😭😭

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

hi! sorry if you've answered this already, i tried to search your blog and didn't find much, but we all know the tumblr search function is...uh...but i'd be deeply curious to hear your thoughts about Stephenie Meyer's "The Host," specifically re: treatment of the issue of souls' colonization and possession of other species...and obviously, since i'm asking you, an animorphs blog, this, my curiosity is definitely coming from a place of comparison to animorphs, but that doesn't have to be your focus!

from the posts tumblr's search algorithm did grant me, i gather you see it as wanda unlearning the colonizer's propaganda stance she takes at the start of the story, which i agree with!

but i guess every time i read it, i really can't help but feel...unsatisfied? with the way it actually engages with the horrors and colonization of it all?

sort of like, okay, The Host is this one very individual YA romance story in a sci-fi setting, which is obviously different from a heavily-Star-Trek-inspired middle-grade series about guerrilla warfare and is going to grapple with these issues differently...but still! i don't leave feeling satisfied with how it engages with consent of "host" bodies the souls are in, and i don't feel satisfied with how it engages with the souls' systemic behavior!!! but i can't really put my finger on why, and i just...was curious, i guess, whether this was something you had thoughts about.

(full disclosure: i'm asking you specifically because one of my HUGE points of existential dread on my first adulthood reread of The Host was how Jodi never wakes up, and her boyfriend just starts implied-dating the soul who's in her body? or how kids who are infested from birth are just...gone, and they were like "well sweet we can just put Wanda in there, this is a perfect solution!" and that I think hit me so hard in comparison with having read Eleutherophobia--which is, by the way, a masterwork of fanfiction that wrecked me, overwrote canon a little bit in my brain, and I think fundamentally changed how I see the possibilities of writing and narration, so, you know. thank you for that!)

(also like, i know there's different worldbuilding where it's implied most hosts just...go away...but do they actually? because Mel and the Seeker's host are still there, which kind of implies to me that it's more of a problem than the souls want to admit?! and even outside humans, all the memories, and compulsions toward certain behaviors are still there! what makes a person in this universe of Meyer's?! it's kind of fundamentally horrifying?!)

apologies for this extremely long ask, haha, and i hope you're doing well, love your blog, your writing, and all your thoughts!

Oh my god, ALL OF THIS. I thoroughly enjoy the first 98% of The Host. It's a romance novel about consent! Where the characters have to struggle to resolve the plot in a way that gets the permission of everyone in the love quadrangle to boink everyone else, and spends over 500 pages doing exactly that! It's anti-imperialist as fuck! It's got an amazing supporting cast, like every Stephenie Meyer novel! The imagery is unparalleled in its richness and coolness, because Stephenie Meyer! I've written fan fiction about it! I have an extremely normal relationship with Kyle O'Shea!

And then Sunny. And then Wanda's unnamed second human host.

I think that Meyer, either because of romance genre conventions or pressure from publishers, felt she had to write a happy ending. But the book does such a good job of setting up an unresolvable moral dilemma — either Wanda gets to be with Ian, or she does the right thing by giving Melanie's body back — that there is no path to a happy ending. If Ian did as Wanda asked and sent her in a jar to some other planet, romance fans would feel cheated. If Doc did as Melanie asked and let Wanda stay in her body, then the book's anticolonial message would be for nothing.

But resolving it through PARASITING A KID IN A VEGETATIVE STATE? What if Doc makes Wanda a nice robot body? What if Wanda stays in a jar, but Ian finds a way to join her in the jar? What if she and Melanie set up a time share? Uuuuuugggggghhhhh. The Host was THIS CLOSE to being the best anticolonial novel ever written, and then falls on its face inches from the finish line.

Which, aside, is the reason I don't think Animorphs would ever work with a happy ending. "Happy" for the protagonists would never be morally okay in the bigger story.

[thydungeongal]

It is known that your favorite edition of D&D is B/X, but setting that one and its Basic ilk aside, what is something in each "mainline" edition that you think makes that one shine bright, something it does great like none of the others? Mainline here meaning the original, both AD&Ds, and the three WotC editions (counting 3rd as one edition).

There's a lot to love about each edition of D&D, yeah!

The original game, or 0D&D as a lot of people call it, is truly a weird little mess of rules that regardless laid the groundwork for a lot of things to come, but I think it should be seen as more than just a weird prototype of better things to come. It is ultimately the predecessor to both Basic and Advanced and while those games are very different in terms of play, looking at 0D&D it's easy to see where both games got their ideas and how they decided to iterate on them. But at the end of the day 0D&D still stands apart from the others in the sense that it was an exciting new frontier of play and as such the game's text is also very open to wild adventures. The game openly promotes the idea of adding robots and aliens into the list of monsters, because why not, there's no clear shape of what D&D as a game and genre even looks like yet, so why not let it be whatever you want? It also has lots of procedures in place for creating extremely cool emergent interactions which no other edition since has done! Like, orcs can be encountered with huge caravans of gold! Sometimes orcs are lead by a dragon or a Balrog or an ogre! It's weird and fun!

AD&D 1e is ultimately an evolution of 0D&D, and in many ways it's like 0D&D + its supplements + a bunch of neat tricks learned on the way. Ultimately what sets AD&D 1e apart from the other editions for me is the absolute wealth of procedures in the DMG for helping the DM create and run a world that feels like a living, breathing place! And there's so much guidance for how to start a campaign with small beginnings and then let it expand in scope!

AD&D 2e is actually my second favorite TSR edition in terms of rules text. There's a lot to be said about AD&D 2e being a clear step away from the original playstyle of the Dungeon Game, and it's most apparent in the way the game got rid of procedures for creating your own dungeons and stocking them with treasures, but the actual rules for playing and running the game are probably the clearest AD&D has ever been. I also feel 2e was the era when the greater shape of D&D as the game we know it as today started to form: while a lot of the stuff that we associate D&D with has been there since the beginning, I feel AD&D 2e is when things finally start to take on their ultimate D&Dness, if that makes sense?

D&D 3e I'm extremely fond of because it was actually my first edition of D&D, but beyond that, taken on its own terms, D&D 3e is unparalleled among the D&Ds in terms of how systemic its rules are. D&D 3e was kind of a mess when it came to the quality of its rules and what sorts of outcomes they produced, but I still love the dang thing because the underlying philosophy is extremely ambitious and cool! AD&D 1e is the edition with procedures to help the DM generate the world; AD&D 2e has lots of really cool rules and procedures that almost make the game run itself; D&D 3e has a physics engine that could make the act of play almost feel like an immersive sim! I understand why very few games have attempted to replicate that systemic design of D&D 3e, but I think there's a lot of cool stuff there.

D&D 4e is the most fun the combat minigame of D&D has ever been and it has unironically the coolest worldbuilding of all editions of D&D. I feel we've talked enough about how D&D 4e is actually extremely cool and for attractive people who like tactical combat, so let's focus on the worldbuilding: D&D 4e mixed up the cosmology of D&D in a way that made it feel like something from mythology instead of a neatly laid out world model. Being a B/X fan I of course love it when the implicit cosmic struggle is one of order versus chaos, and D&D 4e pretty much brought that back! All the major conflicts of D&D 4e's cosmology hinge on the conflict between order and chaos, and it actually adds nuance to what could otherwise be an extremely black and white cosmic struggle. The D&D 4e cosmology is messy and mythic and feels like it works on fantasy logic instead of the weird mystic science that ultimately powers the D&D cosmology of other editions.

And finally, D&D 5e. While I am a vocal 5e hater it has less to do with the game itself and more to do with its suffocating effect on the hobby, because as a game it's got a lot of cool design in places. Concentration is a really elegant fix to the game plan of just stacking all your buffs before combat and then wading in. Advantage/Disadvantage does away with the minutiae of adding together a bunch of different bonuses from various sources and does it in a way that is both mathematically satisfying but also really fun in play! Rolling more dice is fun!!! The way critical hits are handled, via just doubling the number of dice rolled and keeping the modifier the same, is great, because you get the "rolling more dice is fun" factor without the doubling of modifiers that had the potential to cause slowdown in D&D 3e. I like the addition of background as a character creation axis alongside class and species!

[captain-hawks]

run the table

rintarou suna x f!reader

In which a night spent playing pool with Suna at a local dive threatens to broach the flimsy boundaries that exist between your professional morals and the chart-climbing musician's steady, loaded gaze.

wc: 2k

c: 18+ only, musician!suna, manager!reader, reader is in denial, semi-public sexual activities, thigh riding, fingering, handjob

a/n: suna's music is essentially = cigarettes after sex

(requested by @cheesypuffkins87)

SPICY SLEEPOVER WEEKEND — PART V

[sunarin.x] tagged you in their story!

There’s a gentle vibration against your wrist, and you set the pool stick currently clutched in your hands upright as you tilt your arm to read the notification that lights up the screen. Furrowing your brow, you slide your phone out of your back pocket, navigating until you’re met with a photo of yourself from the game you just lost—bent forward over the table seconds before mistakenly sinking the eight ball.

Spinning around, you let your indignant gaze fall on the amateur photographer in question, who’s currently leaning against the wall nearby, face lit up by the glow of his own phone screen as a thumb adorned in black nail polish continuously swipes upward.

(You’ve been stalking around the table contemplating your first move in the current game for ten minutes.)

“Do you enjoy broadcasting my mediocrity to your devoted followers?” you ask flatly with a hand on your hip as you idly twirl the wooden cue, well aware that your presence in the musician’s post is bound to draw the ire of more than a few of his fans.

His eyes flick upward in your direction, and as always—unfortunately—being on the receiving end of his cool, assessing gaze proves to elicit something akin to a minor case of spontaneous combustion throughout your nervous system.

Suna’s music career has taken off over the course of the past year, his devastatingly attractive looks (the most recent words an interviewer used to describe him, not your own, for the record) and beautifully soft, raspy pitch (once again, courtesy of another thirsty interviewer) the perfect storm for a viral social media breakout after he shared one of his catchy ambient, dreamy, indie rock tunes (okay, you’ll own up to that comment). 

Thanks to a handful of mutual acquaintances, namely your close friend Semi—who introduced the two of you in the first place, you’re now Suna’s manager. 

Of sorts.

For all intents and purposes.

Also sort of a public relations liaison.

When he deigns to listen to any of the advice and guidance you dole out on a daily basis.

Mostly you just end up reaming him out for the nights he has too much to drink before shows or for taking risky liberties with his snarky attitude on the internet as his name continues to grow. 

When you’re not doing that, you’re inevitably using your spare key to drag his hungover body over the threshold of his apartment for whatever interview he’s late for. (You’re still seething about the time he shuffled in wearing an oversized hoodie with eyebags for days and still had the interviewer stumbling over her goddamn words.)

Okay, so Suna’s attractive.

Objectively.

When he’s somehow wriggled his way under your skin to now become one of your closest friends, it’s a factual observation you unfortunately can’t deny when you spend most nights of the week sprawled out on the other side of his couch with takeout food.

(The traitorous thought becomes a particularly sore spot when he deigns to stretch out across said couch and drop his head into your lap, eyes never leaving whatever bad movie is playing on the television screen while he does it.)

Suna thinks it’s funny—the amount of times you’ve been mistaken for his girlfriend at this point.

You hate him, just a little.

“You looked cute,” he grins, pushing off of the wall and striding toward you while his cue is left behind.

You valiantly ignore the eruption of warmth in your chest, fingers clenching tightly around your own stick. 

“The goal was to beat the girlfriend allegations. Let me manage your difficult ass in peace, Suna,” you huff, turning around to resume lining up your shot.

And suddenly he’s way too fucking close when his voice dances against the shell of your ear, “I liked it better when you were calling me Rin last night.”

Your arm jerks forward quicker than you were planning, and the white cue ball goes careening in the wrong direction, knocking into an entire cluster of Suna’s striped ones. Somehow, you still manage to sink one of your own balls in the process. When you turn to look at him, your noses nearly brush, and the clean scent of his body wash invades your senses. 

Eyes going wide, you slam your palm down on the edge of the table a little harder than necessary as you take a step back and retort, “You wouldn’t share the Skittles with me until I did!”

The entire situation was far less sexual than his low, rasping tone implies—you’d wrestled him to the floor in your kitchen over the pilfered bag you had bought, and he wouldn’t relent until the words, “Please share, Rin,” fell from your lips.

(Though you’d tried not to think too much on the expression that briefly flickered across his face when you said it at the time, now, the memory of it leaves your throat uncomfortably dry.)

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Then please stop distracting me so I can beat you this time, Rin,” you snark, lifting the pool cue once more and turning back to the table.

Without warning, a warm body presses up against yours from behind, and Suna’s hands come to rest atop your own on the stick. 

“You’re horrible at pool,” he murmurs into your ear, and you fail to suppress the shudder that runs through you.

At a loss for words, and somewhat afraid of what might come tumbling past your lips under the duress of this proximity, you let your body go pliant beneath his touch as he readjusts your stance, using his hips as well as he nudges and presses you into place.

It can’t be good for your health, the frantic rhythm your heart’s currently beating against your ribcage, fighting to claw its way out. (Fighting to beat out the level-headed logic of your brain that’s kept you from embarrassing yourself up until now.)

—because Suna’s a flirt.

He’s just a flirt.

And you’re not about to lose your fucking job and friend over—

“What if I want to prove them right?” he whispers.

The world tilts, just a little.

You’d drop the pool stick if not for the way his fingers are curled around your own, your body rocking back into his ever so slightly under the loss of support from your stupid, weak knees. He pushes you forward, your hips pressing into the side of the pool table, and it becomes abundantly obvious in that moment just how hard he is, the outline of his cock firmly pressed between your asscheeks through the fabric of your skirt.

You’re not sure who’s in control of the cue stick at this point when it moves, three of your balls cleanly finding pockets in the process.

And just like that, something inside of you snaps free, leaving a heady, unrelenting flood of heat in its wake.

In a perfect world, one free of the multitude of prying eyes mingling around this local dive, you might find yourself rocking back into the cradle of Suna’s hips, delighting in the rough, low groan the action drags out of him.

(Okay, so you do allow yourself that much.)

But then you’d find yourself bent over the pool table while Suna bunches your skirt up against the small of your back and spreads your legs for the stretch of his cock.

(You’ll die before you admit how many times you’ve imagined this exact scenario.)

It’s the four walls bathroom stall adorned with phone numbers scrawled in black sharpie and hastily scrawled graffiti that end up privy to the moment Suna’s lips finally come crashing into yours instead in some desperate, messy approximation of a kiss. His mouth is a searing, hungry, insistent brand against your own, and the relentless chase of his tongue into your mouth leaves you dizzy as he nudges your thighs apart with his own.

“We shouldn’t—” you gasp out.

The door to the bathroom swings open, creaking on its hinges, and he gently covers your mouth with the palm of his hand, gazing at you intently. Shoes shuffle across the tile floor into another stall, and Suna’s eyes crinkle with amusement, the only warning you get before he blatantly slots his firm thigh against the heat between your legs.

Pleasure flares in your gut as your hips unconsciously rock into him, your cunt aching with need from the tease of friction against your damp folds. 

You bite down on the flesh of his palm, which only further fuels him to press into you even harder. A moan nearly escapes past the boundary of his skin against your lips.

He tilts his head to the side, biting his lower hip before glancing down at where you’re—for all intents and purposes—straddling his thigh, and then back up at you again. 

Maybe it’s the way his brown hair falls messily across his face, courtesy of your fingers. Maybe it’s lust-blown pupils. Maybe it’s the unsteady rise and fall of his own heaving chest.

(Maybe it’s just the way all of these feelings you’ve tried so hard to ignore are now ruthlessly reaching a feverish, unapologetic crest.)

Whatever’s to blame, you can’t bring yourself to care under the thrall of the satisfying burst of pleasure that unfurls between your legs as you grind down against Suna’s thigh.

Suna looks just as drunk on the heady wave of pleasure you’re riding as you drag your slick heat up and down against his leg, his forehead falling against yours as he bunches up your skirt around your hips. A hot huff of air hangs in the space between your mouths as he catches sight of the mess your soaked panties now leave behind on his jeans with each thrust.

You’re both momentarily shaken from your silent, lust-addled haze when the sound of the sink running echoes throughout the room, followed by the door slamming shut once more. 

Hardly a beat passes before you’re scrambling for the button on Suna’s jeans, the movements of your fingers a mirror to the determination of his own as he hooks a digit in your panties and tugs them aside. Dragging his lips back against yours, Suna groans into your mouth when you wrap your hands around his cock, a sound that devolves into something even hungrier when his fingers make contact with the wet, dripping mess your folds have already become.

The walls of the bathroom stall groan in protest as Suna thrusts two fingers in and out of your tight hole, lips tangling with your own in a filthy kiss while you rapidly stroke his thick, throbbing shaft with a spit-soaked palm.

“You’re fired,” he pants into the kiss, voice rough.

“What the fuck, Rin,” you gasp, the coil of tension in your gut trembling as he strokes his thumb over your swollen clit.

Bucking into your grip, he fucks your fist, groaning as you pull hard on the hair at the back of his head with your free hand.

“Be my girlfriend,” he exhales, taking your bottom lip between his teeth.

Your entire body arches forward into Suna’s touch, and you nearly stumble as you let out a keening whimper into his mouth, vision going white as pleasure explodes inside of you. 

Suna tips over the edge of his climax while you’re still trembling from your own, his open lips against the corner of your mouth as he groans your name while hot, thick ropes of cum spurt from his cock and coat your fingers.

—

Later, when the sun’s just beginning to creep over the horizon and you awake tangled beneath his sheets while he softly snores against your shoulder, there’s a notification waiting on the lock screen of your phone as you lift it to check the time.

[sunarin.x] tagged you in a post!

It’s a picture he took of the two of you sitting on his couch a few days ago, a fondly exasperated look on your face as you’re glancing down at where his own face is pressed against your shoulder, his mouth curved upward in a grin.

There’s a single heart that fills the space where the caption should be.