#all hail sage

[mysteryshack324]

✨✨

[microcebusarnholdi]

eng: "women are like underwear... i switch them every day"

[purplewalskurco]

Audio Source: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=maTQ1bIJqqY&pp=ygUWbm90IGVtaWx5IGJhZCBoYWlyIGRheQ%3D%3D starts around the 8:00 mark

[amaltheafan]

[jtheplante]

wait @ your "sage was comedy gold until exiled" comment i agree so bad like. i do agree he was funny before but in exiled he just became straight up obnoxious 😭 clover was going through all 5 stages of grief once every episode and sage was like "huh. huh what". literally why i dislike their relationship too cause sage often doesnt give a fuck about clover's concerns or if he does hes so...nonchalant about it? like nothing about his interactions with clover tells me he actually loves her

Sage has all the wisdom of the universe yet doesn't even know where he is most of the time. Why did they stick Clover with THAT??

[operation-penguin]

also @ your comment on ukj's romance with zora i always thought it was ridiculous cause like....what? 😭 how does getting a crush on someone make you stop being evil. the man was legit killing people and spending over 5 seasons trying to kill his nephew that kind of 180° change does NOT happen overnight. i don't even view it as a redemption cause its just so ridiculous, badly written and unrealistic for a character like ukj. it just feels rushed too like the clage marriage arc, like it's just the writers trying to get them out of the position of major characters in time for ahkj's ending cause characters like clover and ukj arent in the movies

YOU GET ME!!!!! And, although I agree that Sage and Clover's marriage was rushed I feel like we would have gotten there eventually. It felt like a logical progression. I wish it was paced better, maybe she gets married a while before the season finale so she can come back for it.

For UKJ tho, nah. I fucking voided that shit in my fic. It makes no sense. They could have ended with him creeping into the bushes saying shit like "I'll get the throne one day, nephew..." Leave it open ended for a possible come back.

There just would have been better ways to fade out non-movie characters from the show.

[jezterisms]

what if i insert kagami kawaiine into the roleplay. for fun

just looked it up and oh my god YES YOU CAN

[wweskywalker]

“All hail, sage lady, whom a grateful isle hath blest, respiring from that dismal war. Not moving. Not breathing. Our very own goddess, glorious gloriana!” 👑

referenced from queen victoria in parliament robes by franz xaver winterhalter, 1859.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

thought you might enjoy this one, raven ;) how about headcanons of rollo and malleus who are crushing hard on g/n reader but the twist is that reader is dating/in love with their mortal enemy...THE OTHER GUY. what will rollo and malleus do? try to steal reader away to spite the other person? I eagerly await to see what you'll do with this prompt!!!

*rubs hand together* They're both emotionally repressed and silly little guys that I will happily torment 😈 This prompt reminds me of fjsbsjxvksnwkw this video…

I can now use Dorm Uniform artworks for the banners, yay--

Curiouser and Curiouser…

Emo Boi era? Emo Boi era.

Malleus is used to being alone. He’s used to it and yet… it has never felt this frigid, with needles of ice that prod his skin and scales with each step, the loneliness seeping into his blood and bones. The chill always comes when he sees you with Flamme—smiling, laughing—or when you turn down his invites to walk alongside him. “I already have plans with my boyfriend,” you’d say, and he’s encased in ice. “Sorry, maybe another time?”

It’s not just him that experiences the consequences of his gloomy mood. His classmates and the immediate surrounding environment also suffer. When Malleus passes, he brings with him angry thunder or hail the size of golf balls, floods the hall or brings a blanket of snow up to your knees. Everyone walks on eggshells, scared to do or say something to set him off.

He retreats from those rejected outings and spends the evenings alone, walking around campus to hit up all the gargoyle spots. Malleus laments to the gargoyles (and to Gao-Gao Dragon-kun), sharing about his romantic troubles. On the days when his mood is so sour he cannot even take his usual strolls, Malleus holes up in his bedroom with a blanket and a tub of ice-cream. He'll pout and indulge in the sweet frozen treat to chase off his sorrows, all while watching historical dramas and soap operas to temper his envy.

He savors the little victories, times when he’s able to have you for a moment of solidarity. Nothing is quite as enchanting to him as seeing how the sun blooms in your eyes when he performs what he considers such minor tricks—sparks of light that dance in the palm of his hand, a flower pulled from midair. (He considers flexing his magic small acts of revenge against Flamme too.)

... How is it, then, that you smile brighter still with him, when he abstains from the miracle of magic? The frustration is enough to make the light flicker out, and the flower crumble into ash. It’s not fair, Malleus thinks, that Flamme should come in to steal away the one I’ve had my eye on long before he has. Dragons can be territorial and possessive creatures—and you’re the treasure he’s guarded for so long.

His retainers awkwardly try to comfort him. Silver isn’t quite sure what to say, Lilia gently reminds Malleus that there will be others that take his breath away (“If you love them, then you must also learn to let them go,” Lilia had sagely advised)… and Sebek is Malleus’s personal hype man. He goes on for hours and hours about how “the human has poor taste in men!!”, shit talking Rollo, and extolling his young master. At one point, Sebek even advises that Malleus reveal Rollo’s misdeeds to you just to prove “the difference in nobility” between the two.

Malleus would be lying if he said he hadn’t considered any and all options. All it would take is the wave of his hand to decimate any rival, mage or no. Perhaps he could spin a curse to drive the others off, or simply whisk you away under the cover of night. But the longer he lingers on the ideas, the more they make his heart ache. No, he cannot bring any of them into fruition—he can't bear to see your happy expression shift to that of fright, the same way everyone else seems to regard him. Caving to his basest desires—it would be proof of the monster they see in him. It would make Rollo right.

It would be discourteous of me to intervene in another's personal affairs. It's his final decision, the mantra he recites to himself over and over and over again. Let go, and move on. Let go, and move on. Yet in his heart of hearts, he has not accepted it, cannot cut away the last of the threads that bind his feelings to you. Malleus is plagued by fitful nights, dreams that manifest as if just to mock him. In them, you're always shrouded in white, at some faraway altar. No matter how fast he runs or flies, he can never reach you. Other times, he's been forgotten entirely, not invited to the ceremony at all. Cast off into the darkness or a bog or an enchanted wood to stew and brood all alone.

He'll wake in a cold sweat and with an agonizing roar that shakes the entire castle. When Lilia and the others rush to his chambers to check on him, they find it in disarray. Items are thrown everywhere, the comforter cast off and the bed a mess from tossing and turning, ugly claw marks running across his curtains... The chandelier has fallen, the green-tipped candles of it catching the fabric on fire—and there he is, kneeling amid the flames, clutching at his head, his heart.

"Leave me be," Malleus snarls at his retainers. He knows the flames will not harm him, and they know it too. The least he can do is spare them from witnessing him in such a pathetic, distraught state. It’s over, isn’t it? He, the fearsome dragon, has lost to some self-righteous “hero”. His fairy tale’s happily ever after is impossible.

He’s coping… coping and seething—

At first, Rollo thinks you must be mad, or playing the part in some cruel prank. How can anyone genuinely be attracted to such a repulsive, despicable villain like Malleus Draconia? He cannot fathom it—yet the longer be observes, the more frightening the truth becomes: those feelings of yours are genuine. Rollo then concludes something even more wild: that Malleus as bewitched you, cast some sort of dark magic that clouds your common sense. After all, how can you not see that Malleus is so very, VERY wrong for you?

Whenever possible, Rollo tries to preach, to warn you about dealing with the devil (yes, he outright calls Malleus that) and giving into temptation. He furiously implores you to reconsider, to think of your soul and to salvage it. Alas!! His words only fall on deaf ears. He curses, thinking Malleus’s enchantment far too powerful for him to overcome through typical means. Still, Rollo shall not relent.

His digs and sleights directed at Malleus seem to only become more hateful. When they cross paths in the hallway, Rollo makes it a point to purposefully bump into him on the shoulder--and you can bet this man doesn't hold bad when it comes to the insults. (Sebek tends to yell back in Malleus's defense, while all Malleus does in response is tut and tighten the arm he has wrapped around you.)

Rollo remains cordial to you (though you're not free from his lectures about how you should "renounce Malleus Draconia's hand"). He's still very much resistant to any sort of affection you try to demonstrate for him, be it verbal, physical, or otherwise, often shooing it away or deeming it "salacious". However, he's quick to change his tune if Malleus happens to be nearby, enduring your compliments and brief touches as he fights a blush from creeping onto his face. The blush is something he hastily conceals with his handkerchief and insists is "just the weather" or "a fever", nothing more than that.

There are instances when Rollo wonders why he's dedicating so much time and effort into saving one puny, pathetic person. His cause is so much greater than that, and yet he cannot tear himself away. Perhaps, he reasons, you are just that pitiful, and he feels sorry for you to fall victim to Malleus's machinations again and again. In his mind, Malleus is the monster that has kidnapped some innocent royal, and he, Rollo, is the saint sent to liberate them. Why is it, then, that he also sees your face everywhere even when he doesn't mean to? It's maddening to gaze into his fireplace and jolt back, thinking he has seen a ghostly face in the flames.

Much to Rollo's chagrin, his aide and vice president (and even the entire gaggle of enchanted NBC gargoyles) offer their unsolicited romantic advice. They demonstrate their unwavering support in other ways as well, often sneaking about to check on their beloved prez and making an effort to speak highly of him specifically in your presence. The gargoyles also (annoyingly) try to set a "romantic ambience" up by singing and tossing glitter down on you and him when you happen to speak. They're the wingmen Rollo didn't ask for--

It's ridiculous that they would think I have even a passing interest in seeking intimate companionship, Rollo quietly seethes. He doesn't understand where anyone would get that impression of him from. But everyone around him, even the folks of the City of Flowers, can see it for themselves. Rollo seems haunted by something, always looking over his shoulder with a longing in his eyes. The line between disgust and desire are gradually blurring, in spite of the man himself not recognizing it for what it is.

Rollo becomes increasingly frustrated that you refuse to listen to him, that you continue to hang all over Malleus like some brainwashed thrall. He doesn't even know what he's mad at anymore. At Malleus, for taking you for himself? At you, for being so stupid? At himself, for not being strong enough to bring you back to your senses? Maybe it's all three. It's become an obsession now, never too far from his mind and always gnawing away at his every thought. This fire under his skin, the urge to sin, sin, sin… He feels like he's going crazy--

When the anger has finally swallowed his sanity, Rollo, numb, comes to a singular dark conclusion: it's not him, it's you. It was always you, because all this time, you were in on this ruse. Of course. It was so obvious. How could he have not realized it before? You must be a mage too, one that had cast a horrible curse upon him, made him go mad with desire. Dangerous—you were dangerous, and he had to be rid of you just like he had to be rid of Malleus Draconia. For the world's sake. For his own sake, before fanning flames converged into another inferno.

And so he calmly takes out a plain white letter and matching envelope, penning an invitation to you. He asks you to come visit him in the City of Flowers, that he will be waiting for you at the top of the bell tower. You appear here as requested, and you’re greeted with an offer most ominous: choose him or Malleus; be his or burn like the wicked being that you are. There’s no humor to Rollo’s eyes, only a fervent fire blazing in the darkness. He awaits your answer, ready to cast his judgment soon after.

[thewertsearch]

I’ve talked a bit about my humansona’s Quest, although it was a while ago now. She’s supposed to repair the navigation systems in her Land’s floating cities, to prevent them from crashing into each other.

I haven’t thought at all about Sahlee's Quest - or, for that matter, her Land. Sally's Land is probably Doom-themed, so let's give Sahlee a Land based on the other Aspect I vibe with.

The Life-themed Land of Sage and Stardust would be a verdant planet covered in sweet-smelling herbs, frozen in an eternal twilight. The Stardust refers to the Land's weather patterns, as LOSAS is perpetually bathed in a hail of shooting stars - an imitation of Skaia's Reckoning.

The Sage refers to her planet's Quest, as well as its flora. It's the title of a wise, long-dead Consort whose ancient order of herbalists was slain by her Denizen. Sahlee is tasked with resurrecting this order, as it's prophesized that only the incense of the Sages can unlock the door to the Denizen's Palace.

[microcebusarnholdi]

smurf au??

[chernabogs]

Hi Ames 👀🫶

First, giving you smooches as congrats for your 100 follower milestone :3💖

I saw your prompt list and I was like ANGST POTENTIAL with all the prompt lines, but I picked some out with a more fluff mood in mind~

May I please request a Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader fluff read where there’s a storm on Sage Island and Leona’s been helping reader with their homework at Ramshackle but he can’t go back to his dorm bc of the storm

So he has to stay in Ramshackle over night with reader ehehehe

Here are the prompt lines I picked out:

- “The storm’s getting worse”

- “You look better in my clothes than I do”

- “You snore in your sleep. It’s adorable”

- “Sorry to put you through that. I guess I owe you one now”

Take ur time and if you can’t do mine, no worries :)

TYYYYY <3 <3 I love some good Leona content... I wrote him once but I'm ready to go again LKNAJF

Lights Out

Inc: Leona x Reader (GN), Ruggie (briefly) Warning: None! Not really romantic, but like... semi vibes. Sneaky vibes. If you squint you see them. WC: 2.6k Summary: An agreement to help you study leads to an unexpected situation when the weather turns sour

The weather had been kind for the entire week, and so Leona should have assumed by default that it was all a ruse. He had agreed (under some pressure from both your dire expression and Ruggies repetitive pestering) to assist you with your ancient curse’s homework—which really means he’s going to sit there and watch you while only offering a few scraps of information. He can’t make it too easy for you, no? 

The sky had been cloud free—as blue as a robin's egg, with the softest of breezes dancing across campus as the early spring began to wake from her slumber. He had spent a good portion of the day dealing with his classes and dozing in between after having sent you a brief reassurance that he’d still come in the evening. It was beautiful—glorious, even—until 6 o’clock hit. 

Then, like hell from above, a mass of storm clouds rolled in out of nowhere. The school alert system cited it as an unprecedented phenomenon, and as Leona glares out the window at the torrential downpour beyond, he wonders just how much of it is the fault of Diasomnia’s House warden. It feels like even the slightest of moods sends the man bringing down hail and fury with little regard. His tail twitches in irritation as he lets out another low sigh. 

“What’s the curse that turned that emperor into an animal again?” Your voice causes him to glance at your reflection in the window. He can see that you’re still hunched over the ancient curse’s textbook, your brow set in a furrow as your pen taps steadily against the kitchen table’s surface. “He had to go through a whole life-lesson thing to undo it…”

“He undid it with a counter-poison.” Leona hums as another flash of lightning splits across the sky, briefly brightening the room you’re both in before dying down once more. “He coulda stayed the same and still be able to change back.”

“That defeats the purpose, no?” He hears you setting your pen down and leaning back in your chair as he continues to alternate his gaze between you and the storm above. “If there was a purpose to begin with…” 

“The purpose was his death.” He turns away from the window and finally sinks back down in the seat across from you, his eyes closing and his head tilting back. “His advisor wanted him dead, so she figured cursing him would be a way to do it. Curses like that have been around since magic was still taboo.” 

“Yikes.” Your eloquent reply causes him to scoff as he listens to the sounds of the rain hitting Ramshackle's walls. Despite renovations being done, the acoustics of your dorm are still off-kilter, making him constantly pick up sounds that he shouldn’t be able to hear. 

The scratching of your pen accompanies the rainstorm, and then soon stops as he hears you shuffling around. “... the storm’s getting worse.” 

At that, he does open his eyes again, looking to the window with a frown. It’s pitch black outside, but he can see the relentless onslaught of rain against the windows glass. He pulls out his phone and turns it on; there are two missed messages from Ruggie, a slew of them from the group he has with the other House-wardens—he admits he is curious how many others are questioning Draconia—, and then one from his brother that he deliberately swipes away. 

“Seems like it won’t be letting up tonight.” Leona’s frown deepens as he reads Ruggie's messages. It’s a system that will be hovering over the entire island until mid-morning tomorrow. All students are being advised to shelter in place until it passes. “Shit…” 

“What?” You look up at him, your eyebrows raised. He sets his phone back down and fixes you with an unimpressed look. 

“The school put out a shelter in place notice until the storm ends—no students to leave the place that they’re at right now.” At those words, the lights in the room flicker for a moment before going out entirely, leaving the both of you sitting in complete darkness. 

Leona can still see fine, and he watches (with some amusement) how your eyes go wide in surprise and your breath catches in your throat. 

“Did something hit a line?” You’re quick to rise and peer out the window. Most of the dorms rely on magic to power their electric devices, such as with Ignihyde, but Ramshackle is old enough to still run on original lines. His lips twist into a frown as he remains seated while you gawk out the window in interest. 

“If it did, then there’s no use stressin’. It’ll be restored whenever someone gets around to it—after the storm.”

He personally doesn’t mind sitting in the dark. Granted, Ramshackle still is an ominous dorm to be in—with its ghost infestation and such—but there’s also a sense of peace present that can very easily let him drift off to a nap. If he needs to be on lock down in this place, he doubt’s it’ll bother him too much. 

That is if you let him sleep in the first place.

“I mean I guess we can just light some candles and stick it out?” You look back at him as another flash of lightning breaks across the sky, illuminating your form only briefly. He can still see your eyes are wide in surprise, and your breath is quick—either from the shock of the lights going out, or a fear of the storm toiling outside. 

He checks his phone again and notes that you’ve been going at it for nearly four hours now. He’s never had to pull an all-nighter for a test—lessons come easily to him without effort, after all—and a part of him wonders if that’s what your intent is. If so, he certainly won’t be staying up alongside you. 

“You do that. I’m gonna stake out that couch over there.” He scoffs as he undoes his vest. It won’t be the most comfortable to sleep in uniform, but it’s not like he packed an overnight bag in preparation for your study session. He finishes unbuttoning the vest and stands, stretching upwards for a moment before letting out another sigh. “Try not to drive yourself nuts shoving all this information in there.” 

“Grims lucky he went to Heartslabyul tonight…” you mumble. He watches as you go to the nearby closet to pull out some candles before he maneuvers himself around to lie back on the foyer couch. He can hear you bumping into tables and chairs as you navigate in the darkness before finally the faint, flickering glow of a candle being lit tells him you’ve survived in one piece. His eyes close and he lets himself fall into a state of comfort as he listens to the sounds of papers turning and pens scratching. 

…

But he can’t fall asleep. 

This is both inconvenient and unusual for him. It becomes apparent that, with the power getting knocked out, the furnace in Ramshackle has also broken down, leaving the dorm to gradually become colder and colder with each passing moment. He opens one eye to glare at the ceiling above as he can feel goosebumps rising on his arm. 

“D’you have a spare blanket or something?” He finally asks, sitting up to peer at you from over the edge of the couch. You glance his way, your face bathed in candlelight, before you hum. 

“Mmm, not one that doesn’t smell like mold, no…” you reply slowly. Leona’s expression sours at your comment as you set your pen down and stand up. “One second... I think I have something that might work.” 

As you pick up a candle and vanish to the upper floors of the dorm, he lies back on the couch to stare at the ceiling above. The remaining candles cast odd shadows about the room, and the slow ticking of a nearby grandfather clock proves to be both soothing and anxiety-inducing as the seconds pass by. His tail twitches once more as he listens to the sounds of creaking footsteps coming back down to the foyer. 

“Here.” He feels something soft hit his stomach and he grabs it by reflex. It’s a black hoodie—almost his size. “I won it at one of the school festivals. I don’t wear it often, so it’s clean.” 

Leona stares at it for a long moment. The front has an image of the NRC mascot drawn in a cartoon form while holding the set of keys he often sees on the headmaster’s hip. It feels like something he’d expect Idia to keep stashed in a closet, not you. 

Still, it’s something warm, and with some small grumbles of protest, he pulls it on and tightens the drawstrings. He’s sitting upright on the couch and glaring at the wall when he hears you chuckle to his right. One sharp glance, and he can see you watching him with a cheeky grin from the table, your ancient curses homework still strewn about. 

“You know, you look better in that than I do. All that’s needed is some holes for your ears in the hood, and then you’re golden.” 

“Keep talking.” He threatens in a deadpanned tone, earning a laugh from you as you look back to your homework. You know that he’ll never actually do anything to you—after all, by getting him to agree to come to your dorm in the first place, you already know you’ve won him over to some extent. 

He watches you from over the edge of the couch for a moment longer. The furrow in your brow, the way you tap the pen against your paper in a rhythm, the way you occasionally bite your lip while in thought. He seriously wonders why he agreed to come and help you in the first place. It isn’t like he enjoys school, and he’s certainly never considered helping someone with their schoolwork before. He wants to say it was solely Ruggie’s off-handed comments and deliberate looks, but he can’t shake the image of your distressed expression out of his mind when you asked him. 

Pity. It’s definitely out of pity that he’s shown up tonight. Ruggie just added fuel to the fire, that’s all.

But still, he can’t shake the sense of unease that stirs in his chest as he watches you for a moment longer before lying back down, his hand coming to rest on his abdomen as he did. The hoodie smells vaguely of you, and it does little to alleviate this feeling. He watches the shadows dance across the ceiling and listens to the sound of you working for a moment longer before he finally finds his eyes closing once more. 

It takes him a while, but eventually he falls into the shadows of an uneasy slumber. 

—---

When he opens his eyes, he’s greeted to the sound of a dove cooing. At first his mind doesn’t register where he is, and he feels a sharp sense of adrenaline rushing when he doesn’t see the familiar ceiling of his dorm room above him. Then the memories of last night come back—the power going out, the candles, your off-handed comment about him wearing your clothes—and he feels himself relaxing once more. 

“You snore in your sleep, you know.” 

Leona’s attention snaps to where you sit in the chair across from him. You’re nursing a hot cup of something in your hands as you watch him with a tired smirk. You pulled an all-nighter—he can tell by the slight bloodshot tint in your eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s kind of adorable.” 

“Adorable?” His brow furrows as he sits up, stretching forward and looking towards the nearest window. The sky above is a splash of pink and orange with the coming dawn. He can see the very same dove that he heard sitting on the windowsill, peering in with its beady eyes at the oddly domestic image of you both. “Don’t go annoying me with those kinds of comments so early in the morning.” 

“Sorry. I’ll be sure to reserve my next compliment for the afternoon.” Another cheeky little grin plays on your lips, and he tries to ignore how the sight of it makes that uneasy feeling return. He averts his gaze once more as he shifts to rise from the couch. He’s still wearing your hoodie. 

It feels nice. 

“Did you sleep at all last night?” After he composes himself and becomes fully aware of reality again, he glances at you once more. You sigh and lower your mug with a frown.

“I mean, somewhat? I dozed off at the table a few times, but I was working on getting through four units of text before the afternoon class.” 

“And did you?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. “Get through the four units, I mean.” 

“Three. Best I can do.” You chuckle in turn. 

“Which unit did you miss?” 

Your expression becomes one of thought before your eyes light up again. “I couldn’t get to the unit about impacts of curses on modern law. I tried to start it, but as soon as the court transcripts started popping up, my mind just completely tapped out. Legalese is not my strong suit.” 

Leona chuckles slightly at that. He doubts legalese is anyone’s strong suit, save for Azul, who uses it in contracts, or Riddle, who just uses it in general. “And your test for this is…?” 

“This afternoon.” You sigh. “I’ll just take the loss. I’m sure Ace, Deuce, and Grim will be sinking with me, at least.” 

He ruminates on your words for a moment. There’s no denying that you worked your ass off to try and learn as much about ancient curses as possible. He saw the three notebooks of notes that you were skimming through, and the fact that you’re sitting here looking dead on the couch makes that small spark of something start up again. 

Pity. It’s pity, he tells himself. 

“You look pathetic.” He grumbles as he stretches his back. “Tell you what. Lemme get back to Savanaclaw, now that the freak storm is done, and I’ll loan you my notes for that unit. Loan.” 

He emphasizes the last word with a pointed look. Despite how hard you’ve worked so far, he can’t make it too easy for you, no? Your eyes widen again in that comically surprised expression. 

“Oh, you don’t have to—” you begin, but he silences your words with another sharp glance. A small, grateful look then replaces the one of surprise as you sink back into the seat. “... sorry to put you through that, then. I guess I owe you one now.” 

“Well, I’m not gonna hold it over you like some people might.” He sighs. “But I’ll be keeping this sweater for now. I’m not looking to freeze to death before I reach the mirror chamber from here.” 

You nod quickly. “Yeah! Please. Just give it back whenever. Or don’t, you know. I don’t mind.” 

Your words falter awkwardly, and he can’t keep his lips from curling upwards a bit in amusement. “Right. Meet me back at the mirror chamber in thirty, then—and don’t make me wait, herbivore. I have things to do today.” 

Things being spelldrive practice—but he has a feeling you already know that. You grant him a sunny smile, which makes his chest ache once more, before offering a grateful wave. “Sure! Thanks again, Leona.” 

He ignores the way you saying his name gets to him as he shrugs dismissively before moving to the front door. “Don’t mention it. Seriously.” 

[egg-emperor]

Does Eggman really admire Gerald, or is he simply using the clout that comes with Gerald's legacy as a way to boost his own reputation?

"My grandfather was the legendary genius Gerald Robotnik! But you'll see that my inventions are far greater than his!"

I imagine it being something like that.

I can't imagine a hyper narcissist like Eggman respecting anyone, not even family, for such a long period of time. Gerald's greatest achievement was creating the space colony ARK, but Eggman's at a point in his life where he himself has made a plethora of giant space stations, captured entire planets, and successfully conquered a beast that eats space-time itself.

I'm certain Eggman is aware of the fact that he's achieved things on par with and greater than what Gerald ever did. So why would Eggman still put Gerald in a shining light?

The way I see it, Eggman admires his grandfather as much and as genuinely as an extremely self-centred egotistical narcissist can, which I don't think has to be not at all. By the way he talks about him at the end of SA2, it seems he does genuinely admire him and what he accomplished, in his own way. I think it's cool and interesting for him to actually kind of admire someone that isn't himself somewhat. And it gives the sense of betrayal he felt from his idol for almost dying because of him more impact, it wouldn't have as much meaning if he didn't really admire him in some way.

I like it because it's a rare case where he admires someone that isn't himself but it's not in an uncharacteristic way that goes against his attitude towards everyone else because it's in the most egotistical and self-centred way. Even his reflective speech at the end of SA2 wasn't without mentioning that he wanted to be "a great scientist like him". And not because of the goodness of what he tried to do for the world as he doesn't mention it at all, it was for his greatness with his genius, skill, and accomplishments from an academic perspective, not a moral one. He just wants to be a famous renowned scientist for his ego, not to help people.

He just wanted to be as successful as him and recognized and hailed for it, well even more than him because he's so egotistical to the point he wants all the attention in the world, and it seems that's what it was really always about in the way he talks about him. What it means for his potential, what he must be capable of too, and the attention and importance he could have, that's his mindset. It seems his relation to Gerald has always been a source of inspiration and pride, when he can say he's related to what was the greatest scientific genius of his time and the way he helps him recognize his own genius and potential.

His pride in his relation to him is obvious in the way he's always sure to emphasize "that's MY grandpa" when talking about how he was brilliant scientific genius

And when he mentioned him in TailsTube, he just had to say scientific genius runs in the family as a way to bring it back to praising himself

He likes to remind people he's related to another genius and use it to boast. He can barely praise him without praising/making it about himself. There's a pattern in the circumstances he praises the skills/abilities/accomplishments of others, Gerald, Sonic, Sage, etc- they can all be used to praise himself with his connection to them. Because that's his grandfather, his arch nemesis, his creation. If they have respectable skills, what does that say about him as Gerald's genius grandson, or Sonic's longest strongest enemy, or Sage's brilliant creator? He can use them to say that he's even better for one reason or another.

And yes, as much as he admires Gerald, he still absolutely puts himself above him. He sees his accomplishments as far greater as a result, as well as of course being due to his massive ego and narcissism too. He seeks to surpass his grandfather and be recognized and hailed as the very greatest as he says he will mark a place in history as the ULTIMATE genius, that puts him above Gerald as the all time ultimate genius in history

That's what he's aiming for, not second best. He wants to be the greatest of all time and go down in history like that.

And he says that despite Gerald's accomplishments in the past, it's his time now to be even greater

And in Generations, he says nobody is as smart as himself for why he teamed up with himself from the past. With that it's just like a big fuck you to Gerald lol

Not that he actually had Gerald on his mind at all when all he does is think about himself but he definitely really does think of himself as smarter and greater and even more brilliant than him because he's just that narcissistic and egotistical.

He still sees his own genius and accomplishments above all and Gerald is actually no exception despite the small amount of rare admiration he held for someone who wasn't himself. And it seems his admiration is mostly formed through the lense of what it means for him, his own skills and genius, what he's capable of and who he could become with his potential, which is why he was inspirational to him and regarded as a hero of his.

With the ways he's talked about him, him saying something like "My grandfather was the legendary genius Gerald Robotnik! But you'll see that my inventions are far greater than his!" would be fitting and seems to be his mindset, unsurprisingly. Now that he's far surpassed him by the sheer scale and volume of his accomplishments in science and the vast number to his name, he can boast about that too and use Gerald as a measuring stick and emphasis for his own greatness in comparison.

And it's a good point because while Gerald was a very smart brilliant man with impressive accomplishments and Eggman is a massive egotist, he has built tons of giant space stations, captured planets, taken control of world destroying beasts, created hundreds of copies of the ultimate lifeform Gerald created one of, even broken the world apart more successfully than he attempted, albeit for very different reasons and intended outcomes XD And his scientific accomplishments were done alone without a team of scientists and government funding like Gerald. So he kinda has a point, he just goes about it in the most egotistical way lol

I feel like it can still count as genuine admiration even if he does think of himself as superior and uses Gerald's status to boost his own ego further, it's just in his own narcissistic way but it's still something. He always recognizes the skills and strengths of others and can commend them for it, and it seems to be because of how he can use them to hype up himself for his connection to them, which he especially can when he's part of the same bloodline like Gerald. And his main focus in it was always how Gerald's accomplishments further proved his own potential to become a great scientist too and his desire to be renowned and much more successful too.

As much as he admired his grandpa and saw him as his "hero", he always thinks of himself the most highly and still takes little shots at him even indirectly. However, I don't think he'd completely downplay Gerald's skills and accomplishments and deny their impact and the things he found admirable and impressive, even after he's accomplished all that and more. Because he can compare and say "What he was capable of was impressive but I'm capable of even greater, just look at all the things I've done!" and inflate his ego even more! So credit where it's due is a good thing but he can still say all his accomplishments pale in comparison to all the things he's done to look even better.

I really like how unique and fitting Eggman's way of admiring things about others are and how it's still consistent with and a part of his narcissism and egotism, even, because it's through a lense of what it can say about himself too. And the way all signs point at Eggman being inspired by Gerald's greatness and accomplishments from an academic perspective and his status of being brilliant and renowned, instead of the way he worked to help people. It's like Eggman wanted to follow in Gerald's footsteps and looked up to him in a sense and saw him as a hero, but always had the much more selfish goal of being praised and famous in mind, instead of helping others. And that's what sets them apart in the coolest way!

[alphaleathergearhead]

Part lV: The weekend guests

Ben was lying cuffed and gagged in the cage and wondered what Alpha Skin held in store for him. He could barely move. It was absolutely silent in the cellar and soon Ben lost all orientation of time. His imagination wandered about what the "service" for Alpha Skins guests would be. Drawing up scenes of wild sex made him hard again but his dick was safely locked up in the steel chastity cage .

After what seemed hours of waiting and feeling intensely horny Ben heared the heavy cellar door opening and his heart started to hammer. In came about ten men, talking and laughing loud. Ben risked a glance. He saw that they were not regarding him, but Alpha Skin, who was in the center of their attention. They were all sporting 30 hole boots, some had tight leather jeans on, other were wearing woodland combat pants. They all had CWU bomber jackets on, black ones, sage green, dark green or woodland camo. Most of them had muir caps and all were wearing black leather gloves. And all had cleanshaved heads. Ben thought they all were looking fucking sexy. His boner nearly cracked open its chastity cage....

The skins sat down in the chairs, talking and laughing loud and dominant. Skin boy hurried in and served them drinks. He was greeted with loud shouts and some grabbed his ass or his bulge. Ben saw that skin boy quickly moved around to avoid the touching and grabbing.

"Don't be shy, skinny, you liked it when I mouth-fucked you lately" cried one of the skins to harsh laughter of the others. "To be promoted does not mean you are out of reach". "Yeah, right, come over here." "Let me see you kneeling in front of me." "Serve my boner, skinny."

"I have something fresh for you", said Alpha Skin, pointing in the direction of Ben and the cage. The men got silent. Ten eye pairs turned to the cage. "Wow, thats a real surprise." "Fucking shit, a newbie". "My gunload will be exclusively for it."

"I named him cumfaggot and he liked it. I met him in the subway and he immediately gave in and I kidnapped him for our and his pleasure." Alpha Skin laughed.

All men rised from their chairs and came over to Bens cage. "Fucking hot fag, cuffed and gagged." "Will love to fuck him hard." Some of the skins started to massage their bulges. "Hey fag, are you hearing us?", cried one of them and kicked the cage with his boots. Others fell in and soon kicks were hailing down on the cage and Bens ears were soon ringing with the noise.

"Hey bros, lets baptise him", one of them cried. He unzipped his leather jeans and put out his erected dick. "Yeah, fucking right you are." "Who will be first?" They immediately started wanking and working hard on their huge dicks. Ben dared not to watch them. He heard them laugh, breathing hard and wanking.....

Then he felt it. Huge drops of cum came raining down on him, on his pants, jacket and in his face. Ten cumloads full were spread over him with cries of insults and lust.

"How's that, cumfag?" "Fucking wet with our cum." "Let it dry and wear it with devotion." "Lets put him out so he can clean our dicks." "Yeah bro, thats needed." Alpha Skin came over and unlocked the cage. Ben was so immobilised by laying in the cage for hours that he was not able to move. They dragged him out and he received some hard kicks. "Move cumfag."

One of them in a dark green Alpha jacket and skintight leather jeans grabbed his head and moved Ben in a kneeling position. The gag was removed. Still grabbing Bens head the skin moved him in front of his still dripping penis.

"Clean it, cumfag, and clean the spots on my pants, too." He hit Ben in the face and the men started to laugh. Ben, still with cuffed hands behind his back, had difficulties to stay upright and tried to reach the skins penis with his tongue. To great laughter and insults the skin removed his dick out of Bens reach and Bens tongue lolled helpless in the open. "Come on, fag. Clean it." Another hit in Bens face.

After some tries Ben reached the penis and began to lick the cum off it. It tasted sharp and salty. His head was then directed to some stains on the leather jeans of the skin. New ones but also old ones. He licked and smelled and tasted sweat, cum and leather. Besides of....or maybe because of the humiliation Ben was horny as hell. He continued to lick dripping dicks and pants he was presented with and received blows, insults and more cum.

At least they let him go. He was dragged to the wall opposite of the chairs. His collar was fixed to a bolt in the wall and Alpha Skin came up with a leather hood. It was placed over Bens head. A zip was closed behind and then the hood was laced up so it sat skintight on Bens head. Next came a muzzle in the shape of a dick and Ben had to take it. It was fixed to the hood as was a leather strap which was fixed over his eyes. Ben had difficulties to breathe and was on the verge of panic. Then he felt that his nostrils still were free and he calmed down a bit.

Without orientation and helplesly fixed to the wall, with a huge silicon cock blocking his mouth Ben wondered what will come next.

To be continued with Part V: Cumfaggots destiny