#titan is the best moon

[actually-titan]

*a small deformed moon floats into veiw*

BOO! Hehehhehe hello there Titan of Saturn, it’s I! Vitreous of Iris.

:)

-@vitreous-official

AAAAAHHHHH-

FATHER HELP-

... Oh wait he's in the basement-

[spacedace]

another bit from the "Constantine adopts Elle au" idea I posted a snippet of yesterday:

The days immediately after the…loss of Elle’s brothers weren’t the hardest. It would, they’d all learn soon enough, only get worse as their friend’s mental state continued to deteroriate. At the time though, it had certainly felt like it couldn’t have gotten any worse.

Elle had always been, for as long as Lian had known the other girl, been a bright, energetic person. Even when being drug from bed in those ungodly hours that so easily could be labeled as late night and early morning equally to go fight some asshole who couldn’t wait for decent crime-spree hours. Elle had never been so cruel to the rest of them as to be chipper during those awful exhausted - and exhausting - incidents, but she’d always been upbeat. Rousing them into feeling more alive with a carefully currated playlist blasting over the comms and promises of delicious, greasy breakfasts at their favorite twenty-four hour diner that she always delivered on.

She was always vibrant, always excited for whatever came at her next, always dancing ahead of them all in search of a new hobby, a new special interest, a new once-in-a-lifetime experience. Her eternally burning hope that the horizon would have something better, something brighter not a foolish security blanket to hide behind but a weapon she weilded against the world. A spine of steal, a heart of a stellar nursery, a hand equally capable of being stretched out in friendship or clenched into a fist ready to deliver the nastiest left hook that side of Metropolis.

Elle Constantine was a lot of things - a good number of them questionable - but in every single one of them, she was full of life.

So seeing her so completely empty…

The Justice League had gotten roped in on their mission before they even realized the scope of it all. Grand-Bat looming and scowling and digging his grubby fingers into things, the rest of the League not much better as they wormed their way in on the case. For all the good it had done, when they’d been too late actually on the scene to be of any actual use. Only able to show up hours after their initial call for backup when the shit show was finally over and the world saved.

She and the team were all still reeling by the time the got there. Elle still crumpled on the ground, coverd in soot and blood in a writhing heap of pain no one else could even begin to understand. The still air rent by her ragged, broken voice wailing and keening like a banshee from the stories of old.

Screaming until she coughed up blood. Hands dripping red and green ripping at the dirt, at her clothes, at her hair, her skin. Shreiking in mindless, all consuming greif as they tried to calm her down, the only words anyone could make out the broken shapes of her brothers’ name.

Jon had to pin her arms to her side in the end, face pained as he tried hard not to hurt her while keeping her thrashing frame in place. Connor crouched before her cradling her tattered hands in his as he tried desperately to get her to follow his breathing, his own voice thick with barely contained tears. Damian, soft hearted beneath all his bluster and bristling, dropped to his knees beside her in the blood soaked ground and simply wrapped his arms around her in a hug.

There had been nothing Lian wanted more than to be with them in that moment. To join her team in trying to help their friend through the initial horror and agony of having a part of herself so cruelly ripped out and crushed before her very eyes. She wanted to wipe at the endless tears falling down Elle’s face and hold her hands and wrap her in a hug and weep with her over what had happend.

Wanted to get them all out of there, get them back to the Tower, get them all washed up and bundled in a protected, quiet corner where they could all cling to each other in the dark in a mess of blankets and pillows like the children they were. Wanted to shield Elle from the watching eyes of the Justice League members, the clean up crew, the gawking civilians and hungry press. To protect her while she was so horribly vulnerable, her friend ripped open and bleeding out in front of the world like a sideshow and not a girl who had just lost the only people in the world that had known and loved her since the very beggining of her fucked up life.

But Lian was the leader of the Titans. She was the one they trusted to make the hard calls. To look after them. To be their champion against not just their enemies but their allies too when it was called for.

So that’s what she did.

She stood with her feet planted firm on the slick, broken ground. Spine straight, shoulders back, head high and gaze full of hellfire. A sentry between her confused, greiving friends and the good intentioned but ultimately distructive attempts of the Justice League members before her to help.

Lian’s arm was broken in at least two places, hanging limply at her side from a dislocated shoulder. Her weapons buried in the flesh of one monster or other that they had faced that night. Her poison tipped nails split and torn, fingernails missing entirely on three fingers of her left hand. Her mask was cracked and broken somewhere in the debris, leaving her only with a domino that had nearly been clawed off with the rest of her face. Blood going cool and tacky where it had poured down her ragged cheeks, settling in the hollows and lines around her mouth. Pinking her teeth whenever she spoke and the gruesome evidence of the brutal fight found its way to curl insideious in her mouth, down her throat, into the cold pit in her chest.

When she met her grandfather’s grim, obscured face it was with her mother’s strength and her father’s stubbornness and her Pops’ willingness to shoot any motherfucker who dared to try.

Clark’s gaze was on the hunched crowd behind her, tight lines on his face as he stared at his son making it all to clear that he wanted to move past her and insert himself into the situation. To use his everything will be okay voice to command them like confused civilians or lost ducklings in need of a minder. He wanted to play the part he always played in times of disaster: shining beacon, untarnished champion. The last thing her team wanted, the last thing that Elle needed on top of everything else.

Lian’s good hand flexed by the pistol strapped to her thigh in a small warning. The Man of Steel knew well enough that there was glowing green waiting for him in the clip. Her gramps’ obsessive paranoia, her Pops’ good advice about big blue boyscouts who couldn’t keep their noses out of of other people’s business.

They stood in tense silence for long moments, the stillness only broken by Elle’s broken voice rising up in a keening wail for those she lost.

A stand-off that Lian knew that she’d win, one way or another.

Her gramps’ shoulders lowered, so minutely as to be inperceptible to anyone not in their family.

“Wonder Woman will be here shortly.” He said in his low rumbling voice. Beside him Clark finally drifted to the ground, a concession from both of them. “Justice League Dark went radio silent seven hours ago. Last transmission from Zantanna indicated they were dealing with an interdimensional issue and would be unreachable for at least three days.”

Elle’s dad - her family - were unreachable. John Constantine didn’t know that he’d lost his three sons in the span of a handful of minutes, that his daughter was being crushed beneath the weight of greif and trauma to the point of madness. Wouldn’t know for days what tragedy had struck his family, had destroyed the strange but happy life he and his adopted children had carved out for themselves.

John Constantine. Zantanna Zatara. Detective Bobo. Boston Brand. Asa the Nightmare Nurse. Elle’s family, out of reach while she writhed and wailed in agony. The only people who might come close to understand just how deep, how awful, the pain of her brothers’ loss truly was.

Diana was something, was someone, but the Amazon’s time being split between JL Light and Dark meant that she wasn’t a touchstone to Elle in the way the rest of the core members of the magical team were. Elle commented once that Diana was more like a fun aunt she barely saw growing up. Someone she was always excited to see and hang out with, someone she wanted to make proud, but not someone she felt especially close to in comparison to the rest of her family.

Lian did not give in to the pained urge to close her eyes and swear.

She was keenly aware that all it would take was a single crack, as narrow and insignificant as a strand of hair. The smallest hint that the crushing weight of everything that had happened - that was still happening - was effecting her and they’d be back at the attempts to push past her and take over. A desire to help, the restless urge to jump in and save the day, to ease the pain of those so clearly suffering, blinding them to how much worse they would make things in the process.

The intentions were good, but the ultimate results blistering and painful and too often overlooked as the next disaster pulled thier attentions away. Stubborn insistence that their experience overruled her and her team’s instincts. The hands of the older heroes always reaching, unaware that they were too sharp as they dug into the soft flesh of the Titans’ fresh wounds. Picking apart their flaws and failures in the name of bettering them, never stopping to consider the wounds they pressed hard against as part of their lecturing might still be open and raw. That while the men before her had hands in raising most of them, that did not mean they had perfect comprehension to who the Titans were or always knew what the members of her team really needed.

“Have Wonder Woman go to the Tower.” Lian said, knowing that her grandfather heard Selina’s cadence in her voice. A habit, a gamble. Catwoman had been her mentor for a time, had helped her sharpen her claws and her instincts and that budding part of her that would make her a leader one day. Sometimes it pushed Bruce into listening to her, sometimes it just led to him pushing back.

He’d find that latter option unwise at the moment, though.

Her beloved Grand-Bat or no, she knew where his armor was weakest. Knew how to make the single shot she’d manage to get off on him count. Knew just how far she’d go to make sure that Elle and the rest of her friends were sheilded from any and all harm when they were so vulnerable.

She was their champion, their sentry, their knight.

Batman, of all people, knew the lengths a knight was willing to go in the name of the oaths they took.

She watched him shift back. A silent, unseen signal between him and Clark having Superman step back too. Lian wasn’t sure if her grandfather had found the wall she presented him too strong to conted with, or if Elle’s heart wrenching screams of greif and agony made him decide against testing the wall at all. Whatever it was, Lian would take the small victory where she could. It was the only real one she might be able to claim that day.

[celestialdaily]

The Moon vs Europa

Finals yay

[lets-try-some-writing]

Wait wait wait wait wait

Titan!Mars is giving sentience to the drones?! So Opportunity, Curiosity, Sojourner and the others are all gonna be baby bots some day??

(Also if we're talking moons and planets being titans, there is a moon that literally named Titan - one of Jupiter's moons I think)

Yup they will. It will certainly take a hot minute to get there, but Mars is doing his very best to make it happen. They need protomatter and exposure to the Allspark to come to full awareness, but Mars is giving them all he can in the meantime. It is yet another reason he is so dead set on getting the Allspark back if no one else will. His citizens need it to come to full awareness. He is their father now. A father never abandons his children.

Mars liked to think that if given the chance, he would have the will to fight against the Unmaker and consequently, Earth. However, upon receiving his six gifted citizens, his determination was largely shelved. His citizens would be sad if their mother Titan were to be destroyed, and quite frankly, Mars didn't want to mess up the education he'd already given his little ones.

Let Earth, Moon, and Unicron duke it out verbally. They were all idiots anyway. Mars was comparatively very normal. All he was doing was giving his little ones sentience. Hardly worthy of note really.

Sojourner was old by the standards of his fledgling race. Mars had to be careful with him. Sojourner had to be gently imbued with the shards of a spark, and even then, Sojourner struggled to reach full sentience without his other half, Marie Curie. Often the new mind of Sojourner would wander to his companion still on Earth, and Mars could only hold him close and hope that maybe Earth would convince one of her children to send Marie Curie to him.

Spirit was an aggressive young mind and loyal to a fault. He was easy to bring to life. The care put into him by his human creators gave him the barest inklings of sentience, and that was more than enough for Mars to work with. Spirit remained within the section of Mars that the humans dubbed "Troy". The little thing was dead set on gathering information, just as he had been instructed so very long ago. Mars had and continues to support Spirit in his attempts to use his communication systems to reach NASA again with fresh data. Mars knows it is a risk on his end, but the ones who made his citizens are so loving. Mars is of the mind that they will be more interested in hearing from their wayward son than anything else.

Opportunity was almost eager to be given life. She endured many trials when she remained in contact with her makers, and the fact that she overcame them gave her the seeds of thought Mars needed to gift her the beginnings of a spark. Opportunity roams his surface with glee, and Mars fuels her travels with songs and gentle prodding. She too desires to one day regain connection to NASA to share her discoveries. Mars adores her desire to see and explore. She reminds him of Moon in a way. At least, the Moon when he was younger and filled with life, eager to please his young citizens.

Curiosity and Perseverance did not come to Mars at the same time, but they too arrived with the inklings of a fledgling mind. Mars accepted them with joy and did not impede them as they gleefully fulfilled their directives. He has slowly worked to give them sparks, but he will not directly interact with them until they inevitably lose connection with NASA. He wants them to know the love of their creators for as long as possible. Curiosity is more than happy to continue roving and fulfill her directive while also humming songs to Mars through fledgling EM bursts. Perseverance gleefully follows his older sister in her devotion to the task. Mars is very proud of them.

 Zhurong was different when he came to Mars. He was not from NASA, and that was new for Mars. Zhurong was a sweet mind though. He took longer to come to awareness, but Mars was glad to have him all the same. Being so young, Zhurong has yet to do much of note, but Mars encourages him whenever possible.

There were others too. Smaller minds send to Mars to observe and keep an optic on his surface. Phoenix, Viking's 1 and 2, InSight, Beagle 2, Mars 1, 3, and 6. They were all sent to him, but without any of the touch that gave the six life. Mars tends to them all the same. Maybe one day he will find a way to give them the touch that brings about thought and free will.

Mars loves his strange citizens, and he is hopeful that they may one day become Cybertronian given enough time and attention from him. Moon thinks he is weird for his obsession, as does Unicron.

Moon: Why do you care so much about the rovers? They aren't even proper citizens, much less Cybertronian in origin.

Mars: Shut your fragging mouth Moon. You don't get to talk when you ABANDONED your citizens back on Cybertron!

Moon: I DID NO SUCH THING YOU INSENSITIVE PRICK-

Unicron: Yes, destroy each other for my amusement.

Earth: Father, don't encourage them please. I don't want children's creations to die in the crossfire.

Earth is happy Mars loves her grandchildren, but she does worry about his interactions with Moon when they talk about citizens a a whole.

[moonspirit]

A VERY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU @distortedclouds !!!!!!! 🎉💚🎉💚🎉💚

I wrote a little something for you :3 May you be blessed today with lots of happy things and a generous dose of our best girl, Annie~

✨🌔 A Boat in Moonlight 🌔✨

A (yet another) Aruani Fort Salta first kiss fic, because you can't stop me from writing it, and also - hell yeah?

[supernightboy08]

My ALL TIME Favorite Leaders:

1. Optimus Prime

2. Izuku “Deku” Midoriya

3. Robin

4. Movie Princess Peach

5. Simba

6. Naruto Uzumaki

7. Sailor Moon

8. Twilight Sparkle

9. Ash Ketchum

10. Black Panther

[maxwell-grant]

Since he’s probably Oswald’s closest Marvel equivalent, being a relatively-unpowered crime-boss who semi-frequently becomes Mayor… any thoughts on Wilson Fisk, the Kingpin of Crime?

It's a comparison that's frequently made by Big Two fans and it's easy to see where it comes from, certainly they're the most iconic gangster/mafioso villains in their respective companies, but I don't think Kingpin is the closest Marvel has to Oswald because A: If anyone has a prior claim on Comic Book Gangster, it's definitely him, and B: They simply don't work in comparable or equivalent fashion. You can even boil down a key difference to the fact that The Penguin is inherently a small man trying to be bigger, and The Kingpin is the biggest man who ever lived. That's not a joke about their sizes, that's how they operate as characters and villains: Oswald is underestimated, ridiculed, diminished, and driven in large part because of it. He is the underdog, he slips under the radar, he slips through the cracks, he is a cockroach who lives to thumb his nose and pull the rug under the bigger bastards who think they can step on him. Wilson Fisk IS the bigger bastard who steps on people, he is the biggest bastard in the world.

He is an unsurmountable force of crime at the top of every possible advantage that a criminal can possibly weaponize, he is a titan of wealth and privilege as willing and capable of crushing your skull with his bare hands as he is of murdering your entire social circle with a phone call. He is "the ill intent", the biggest and strongest gangster of all time, and even if there are bigger and stronger bastards than him, they certainly aren't gangsters like him, they certainly aren't meeting him in his playing field of choice. There isn't really a DC equivalent to Wilson Fisk - there were certainly attempts to make Luthor and Cobblepot more like him, there's no shortage of imitators or knock-offs like Blockbuster and Tobias Whale, but the Kingpin is a league of it's own among comic book gangsters. Like Luthor and Joker and Doom, like the top dogs of the genre, he's become an Archetype in his own right.

I talked about his Spiderverse version a little while back in regards to how much I liked him in that movie and what his design represented about him, Fisk as this black hole obelisk who drains the color of every room he's in and suffocates the world visually as well as metaphorically, far from the most interesting character in the movie but one that you can pin all these other more interesting things on, and I think that's also applicable to a lot of what he does as a Spider-Man villain. Now, he's a GREAT Spider-Man villain, easily one of the best, his arcs in Ultimate Spider-Man alone should be more than enough proof of concept for that, but even if he's not necessarily the most colorful or intimate or dangerous villain to hang a Spider-Man story on, he is maybe the most villain to hang a story on - the entirety of Marvel's street level vigilantes and organized crime exists under his shadow, and you can blow up his scope to the moon and back as a way to build up all the other characters you can squeeze more dramatic stuff out of. Whether it's in TAS, where he is so undisputably atop the pecking order that everyone else is bouncing off his fixed presence, or in the Insomniac games, where he stood tall as Peter's main villain for 7 years until the game begins with his downfall as a way to kick off all the strange new threats he'll be up against, Wilson Fisk is The Crime Man to rule all Crime Men, as entrenched and emblematic and secure in his kingdom of Manhattan as Dracula is to Transylvania and Dr.Doom is to Latveria.

Unlike the vast majority of Spider-Man villains who regularly enjoy redesigns and rewrites and do-overs, official and fan-made alike, Wilson Fisk is practically the same character in every iteration, there's very little need to seriously rethink or readjust who he is and how he does things because he is perfectly simple and perfectly timeless - we have now two Ultimate Spider-Man comic runs that have brought significant overhauls and revisions and new spins to established Spider-Man characters, and in both of them, Wilson Fisk is a major character, and he is completely and utterly unchanged from how he already works in the mainline universe. Even if you don't want to use Wilson Fisk, you can't neglect Wilson Fisk, you have to show how he fits into things, you have to show what he's up to or how he allows or makes way for what's happening without him, you have to give him his cut. This imutability of his is another thing I'd say is a major difference between him and Penguin - Oswald demands change, he demands growth and adaptability, he demands different surroundings more suited to him, he wants to grow and grow and make a nest that's suitable for him, he can't fit into existing systems so he breaks them to remake them as his own. That is simply not the case with Wilson Fisk.

Unlike The Penguin, unlike some of the other great comic book supervillains, Fisk has no intention whatsoever to change anything about how the world works - as far as he's concerned, it worked just fine up until these costumed irritants arrived, and even they just became another part of his conglomerate in time. Fisk really doesn't have or need any kind of big philosophy to justify himself, rather, he takes it as fact that he's operating under the way the world works and under a merit he's achieved by being the man he is. He is content within society's morality, because he is at the top of society and therefore that morality will always bow to him. The legions of costumed enemies orbiting his life are merely dissidents going against the order of things that places him at the top, tools to be used and bugs to be squashed and little more.

And this is true even of those whose power and scope stands above his own - they are not players in his game, and if they are, they are distractions, diversions, things that he can deal with. When he loses to billionaires like the Stromms in Zdarsky's run, when he has to playy ball with bigger villains, when he is ousted in a power play, it is humiliating, and he doesn't deal well with humiliations - but he can take humiliations, he knows he can give back, he can ultimately rebuild his pride as he rebuilds his empire time and time again. Spider-Man is annoying and powerful and infantile and annoying and an enemy and really really annoying, but he is no existential threat. He is not terribly concerned about Spider-Man, which is part of what makes him such a fun Spider-Man villain, that he never sees it coming when Spidey gets serious and just brings him down (peak example of this being Back in Black), that he is this larger-than-life bully/shitty grown-up who actually can and must be defeated. And if a lot of what makes him a fun and great Spider-Man villain is contingent in the ways that he doesn't lose sleep over Spider-Man, part of what makes him a stronger Daredevil villain is the precise opposite: he desperately wishes he could be this dismissive towards Daredevil, who is for all intents and purposes weaker than Spider-Man. It's his relationship with Daredevil that brings out the best of him as a villain and the worst of him as a person alike.

Against Spider-Man, the Kingpin is a very strong enemy, the figurehead of the kind of crime that is Spidey's daily routine, a powerful and oppressive force ruling over NYC who is nevertheless a step down from the Green Goblin or Dr Octopus or the Symbiotes and all those other genetic nightmares and obsessed masterminds that plague his life. No matter how clever or vile his schemes are, Spider-Man can still beat them, and Spider-Man can ultimately always triumph over him in a fight, and Fisk can always rebuild because Fisk builds empires as easily as most people breathe, and things rarely if ever get personal between him and Peter. Against Daredevil? There IS no bigger threat than Kingpin (well, The Hand I guess, but they're boring as shit), Kingpin is the mountain that Matt always crashes against in due time, and it is always personal. The Kingpin is his biggest and strongest enemy, able to run mental laps around Matt and someone that Matt cannot in fact beat in a fight, their battles are drawn out miserable slugfests where Fisk usually thrashes him around like a ragdoll with few conclusive victories and whatever victory Matt has is hard-won and usually via cheap shot.

Matt has an infinitely harder time dealing with Fisk than Spider-Man does, which is part of why it is Kingpin's appearences in Daredevil comics that made him comic book villain royalty: Matt has no real advantage against him other than his senses. He has no intellectual advantage, no physical advantage, and he can't even claim to be more determined or driven, Fisk is fueled by an equally horrendously powerful will and protectiveness towards what belongs to him, This City. There is nobody and nothing in the world that Matt hates more than Fisk, and there is nobody and nothing in the world that Fisk hates more than Matt. They've taken turns shattering each other to the point that those slugfests are the least of each other's offenses against each other.

Even besides the sheer accumulated history they have against each other, it's in the way they unforgivably violate each other's vision of the world. If the Kingpin was the invincible man of vision who loves the city and must steer it even if smaller people disagree with him, if he was truly so secure and untouchable at the top of the world, he wouldn't be having such a colossal hard time dealing with this one guy and he wouldn't be reduced to a base animal thug every time he shows up, let alone lose and be humiliated. If Wilson Fisk was as correct as he needs to be, if the strength of his love for Vanessa/the city/what belongs to him was as powerful as he wants it to be, Daredevil would never get the upperhand on him.

And if Daredevil is a man who dedicates himself 100% all the time to protecting the city and it's people, if Daredevil commits unlawful deeds to preserve human life and fight for justice, if Daredevil struggles with the innate contradictions and hypocrisies and nature of what he is and does but can nevertheless push past them all to do the right thing for others, every second the Kingpin lives, every second Fisk lives because he lets him, chips away at the assurance that he's doing the right thing, that he isn't just wasting time. If Daredevil's vision of the city was correct, if Daredevil was right about his beliefs and worldview, there wouldn't be a Wilson Fisk out there getting away with the things he does. They hate each other for that same fundamental reason: If the world was ruled by the principles I need it to be, in order for me to be who I am and do what I do, you wouldn't exist, and you wouldn't be in my way again and again.

As a Spider-Man villain, he is one of the greats, a core component of his world, a highly versatile and even necessary figure to have and an excellent villain to dictate proceedings. As a Marvel Universe villain, he is an indispensable facet of any criminal element, the Mt.Fuji that the streets of Marvel rest upon, someone who can be added to any storyline and be grafted into many characters to oppose or assist them, or even create and kill them. As a Daredevil villain, he is undeniable as one of the top supervillains, bordering on main character a lot of the time. An implacable unstoppable force of nature as well as a villain of history and brutality and drama and a character who brings intrigue and tragedy and even complexity, even as it all ultimately comes down to that raw hatred between them, the splinter in each other's eye, an infection in their world that just keeps taking and taking and taking without stopping.

It is an unforgivable offense to Wilson Fisk that there is a man out there so beneath him that he cannot break, cannot bend, cannot stop, and who makes such a mockery of everything he's built himself to be by existing, just as it is unforgivably offensive to Matt Murdock that there is a man out there named Wilson Fisk who thinks he has the right to be who he is, and do what he does. To be a man who not only cannot care about human life in any capacity other than what he thinks belongs to him, but whose continued existence attests to a world that validates him, that doesn't care about those lives either, where there is no accountability and no justice and no salvation that cannot be bought and sold. Fisk isn't just an embodiment of cruel, bottomless indifference, he stands for a world that agrees with him.

It would take too much work to defeat him, he just walks unscathed if you do, and even if you defeat him there will just be someone else to step in temporarily. And so it is with a heavy heart that the people of New York accept that the blood of countless runs through the streets, so long as the big man gets to give them their cookie at the end of the day for their hard work and agreeability. He is too big, too clever, too strong, and too invincible - and that's why Peter needs to stop him, that'd why Matt can never stop trying, that's why they can never let him be, otherwise Marvel New York would just be regular New York.

They'd have to accept a world where Wilson Fisk gets away with everything, and who could live with that?

[nanenna]

This Stream of Consciousness Could've Been an Epiphany

More Sleepy King AU HERE

Can you guess what days of the week I usually have off LOL

-----

Danny isn’t entirely sure what’s going on. He feels like he should be more worried about that, mostly because of how weird Dad had been acting all morning. He’d been so… quiet. Calm, quiet, soft, gentle. Not that Dad wasn’t always gentle. Sure, his hugs and back slaps could pack a punch, but Dad knew he was big and strong and tried hard not to do anything too hard. Danny’d seen what Dad’d done to walls, the way he hugged was downright delicate in comparison. And Danny was a lot tougher now, he could take Dad’s bone crushing hugs easily. So yeah, gentle for Dad was usually still too much for normal people.

But Dad was also usually excited, loudly excited! He was being really quiet today, and it was kind of weird.

Maybe Danny should be a bit more worried about being lost?

But surely if he should be worried Dad would tell him so. Dad knew now, had for a few weeks. In that time alone he and Mom had set about reinforcing the portal so no one could get through without permission. Danny had even taken them on a couple trips into the ‘Zone to introduce them to friendly ghosts. It was embarrassing to introduce them to Frostbite, but also kinda necessary so he’d sucked it up and done it. So Dad knew that Danny has powers, knew just how strong he was. If Dad were worried he’d want Danny to know so he could help.

But still, Dad was acting weird. Nervous. Danny couldn’t figure out why. If he didn’t trust these strangers they were just hanging out with he wouldn’t have left Danny alone with them, right? Then again maybe he felt it was safest to not talk to Jazz in front of them. To keep Danny safe from ghost hunters they’d all agreed it was best to keep it secret, so if Dad and Jazz were talking about him as Phantom it made sense he’d want to step away.

Danny nibbled on his poptart, still trying to puzzle through it. He looked around at the strangers and well… he knew some of them at least. Dad had called the dark one Batman, everyone knew who Batman was. He remembered his parents debating whether he was a ghost or a cryptid, a huge debate that they couldn’t come to a conclusion on. Unlike Santa, that one could crop up at any time. Unlike Santa, this one wasn’t so divisive, guess his parents were less invested or something.

So the woman next to him… looked a lot like Pandora wearing a human disguise. She looked at him and smiled, then reached forward and nudged his mug. “Drink it while it’s hot,” she said warmly.

Yeah, she sounded a lot like Pandora too, something about the way neither were actually speaking English. Danny nodded and picked up his drink, if Pandora and Dad thought they were okay, if they both trusted Batman and the other people dressed weirdly then Danny would too. Even if they smelled like ozone and lab cleaning solvent.

The smell kept getting stronger too, there was a pressure in the room. It had stopped suddenly when Jazz called, but it was picking up again. It was weird, like being in a bubble getting dropped in the ocean. At this rate his ears would pop, or the whole room would implode like that one sub going to visit the Titanic. Kinda ironic, waaaaaaay more people have died exploring the bottom of the ocean than space. Technically, no human has ever died in space, the closest was the Challenger disaster and they didn’t make it to space before the explosion. That was so sad. But it was still pretty amazing no one had died going to the moon, not even Apollo 13! No one had even died in the Justice League, so far as Danny’s heard. Not even a cop-out “technically died in space” while actually fighting bad guys on an alien planet technicality.

“Jazz was just checking in on us, I told her we’ll see her at dinner tonight.” Dad sat down next to Danny, peeking over at whatever Batman was working on as he did so.

Danny nodded and hummed in agreement. That was good, it seemed Dad thought they’d be home by dinner despite being lost right now. That was good.

It was weird though, he hadn’t called her “Jazzypants” like normal. In fact, Dad hadn’t pulled out a single nickname, not even “Danno.” So was Dad worried about them being lost or not? Danny couldn’t figure it out.

The pressure was building again, Danny yawned, trying to make his ears pop. It didn’t help. It hadn’t the last two times either. Or was it three?

Dad nudged the plate with his poptarts on it, Danny picked up his half eaten rectangle and started nibbling again. Chocolate wasn’t his favorite flavor, he kinda wondered what happened to the strawberry from before. It would go nicely with the hot chocolate, a nice contrast of flavors. There was just something about artificial strawberry flavoring that Danny really liked.

Danny slumped over, his body leaning against Dad. He still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, if he should be worried or not, but Dad was there so everything was going to be okay.

Kinda wished Mom was there instead though. He had no doubt she could easily kick Batman’s butt if he did need to be worried though. But Pandora was there, even if it was a new human disguise he’d never seen before, so that was just as good. Pandora liked him, she wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

The pressure suddenly stopped again. Danny yawned, his ears still didn’t pop. It was so annoying.

“Oh my god,” the guy with a metal bucket on his head hissed, “it’s a god egg!”

[mjbarrosart]

My Dragon Prince Boards season 7, episode 705, part 2: The Moonberry Surprise.

It's true, the Moonberry Surprise moment, it is my fault

I hope you can forgive me for my sins. Hahahaha.

Ok, let's talk about this little sequence. But first, some... context?

Ok, so, Dragon Prince was my first job as Storyboard Artist, before coming to DPR I was working as a Storyboard Revisionist in Lego NinjaGo Crystalized. So I applied to Dragon Prince with not hopes that they will hire me, and when the offered my the job I was in awe.

So basically, I arrived to work in season 4 as a Junior Storyboard Artist. They gave me little sequences during season 4 (I was mostly helping my unit director with revisions) they gave me more during season 5 and 6, working on my strengths, emotional moments, long talking sequences and some combat. You know what was not there? comedy, because it was not one of the things I knew well how to do. But after a year and a half working in the show, I was seasoned enough to be a proper Storyboard Artist, not a rookie anymore. So they finally assigned me a comedy sequence.

I was terrified. Today after years in the industry, I can say that I am not scared of comedy anymore. But when I read the script and I realized that they were expecting a big comedy moment from me , I knew I was in trouble. But as they say, "you fake it until you make it" I took a deep breath and smile to my unit director like "Of course I can do this!"

But ok, lets talk about the sequence. We start nice, with the moon fam enjoying some time together. Was an opportunity to work with Runaan and Ethari, and that is always cool! I love how Ethari is just happy of everyone being there, and Runaan just wants to kill Callum (in an affectionate way, like he is just a protective dad, you know, a no nonsense dude)

So yeah, they talk a little and Rayla handles Callum a slice of Moonberry Surprise. Is like this almost mythical dessert that is said tastes like nothing else in all Xadia. And Callum is so excited to try it!

So, the script did not call for anything you saw in that sequence. The script instructed to reveal the Moonberry Surprise like something out of this world, and then have Callum almost having an epiphany when he tries it. My first idea was to have Calum almost levitating on his seat while eating it, while the rest of the moon fam looked at them in confusion. But during the launch of the episode (this is the stage where directors and in the case of DPR writers, tell SB artist what they want for every sequence we will board, we pitch ideas, and so on) was more clear to me that they were expecting something more of an "out of this world experience". Like the "I love books" moment that Callum had on season 5, episode 2, but on steroids.

So I was ok, lets make it as trippy as possible. So we have this fast zoom in into Callums face, that lead us into this "dimension of flavor" he is being transported to.

And he opens his eyes and he is floating in this space of color and flavor, his spirit being lifted by this experience.

He is experiencing all this flavors, eating this huge blue berries (this was my Unit director idea, Thanks Katherine!!), when something catches his eye. A figure, looking to him from the above, almost like a god.

And Callums looks up, revealing... this:

So, I have a really particular sense of humor (not unique, because I feel a lot of people share it, particular because really specific things make me laugh a lot). I was born late 80's grew up on the 90's with all the weird cartoons and anime of that time. For me adding muscular arms to things is the best joke ever.

This is peak humor to me:

So I was like, what if, Callum does the Titanic spinning thing, with a muscular slice of pie? So I did that... And I was SURE they will reject it.

So I finished my roughs, and I sent them to my Unit Director. She was "this is so stupid" (in the best way) so, she added some placeholder music, and send it for review from the directors, while both of us were expecting to have it rejected.

A couple of days after, our Storyboards Supervisor was like "WHO DID THE MOONBERRY SURPRISE SEQUENCE??" And I was like "me?", and he was like "Aaron LOVED IT!" and I was like "?????" so, yeah, was approved.

So yeah, that is my legacy, I guess. I am Runaan in this shot:

So well, those are all my sequences in episode 705.

Sorry again for being responsible for the birth of that thing. But that is my son now, and I kinda love him, even if he looks like that....

Next post will be my last! So yeah, stay tunned for my last post about my boards in The Dragon Prince, episode 708!

[actually-titan]

@saturn-official

Someone's calling Titan "fatherless" and also Titan's probably gonna die- 😭

I AM NOT GONNA DIE-

DO NOT CAUSE MY FATHER TO PANIC-

[best-thing]

"Let's make those astronomy nerds sweat"

- Chief of operations, thing-pairing laboratory

[keferon]

Titan LL!

Heavens, I love Titan LL.

...You know, since nobody's doing anything, I think I'll try something. Dibs!

.*.*.*.

Lost Light is named after a day of mourning.

He doesn't feel like it.

Perhaps it was a wish made upon the smallest of the youngest batch of Titans, brought online shortly before fires of revolution blazed across Cybertron and it's domains. For the mourning to be the least in the coming times. Perhaps they succeeded, but joke's on them. Lost Light may have been online through the times of grief, but grief does not touch his spark. It's another element of his surrounding, like floating rocks, clouds of solid something, solar winds, the works.

Well, for a given definition of "online", because, he, his batch and some older Titans were moored in random spots in the system, just away from Cybertron itself.

The new batch was mostly stationed in the shadows of Cybertron, in vain hopes of civil war going away quickly. But sometimes, when the fighting peaked and threatened to reach the moons, they were herded away and over to the system's edge, near the border of termination shock. There were a lot of visible stars here. And Primus, there was nothing more Lost Light liked more than those beautiful, beautiful stars.

The first Titans were sparked to carry their Cybertronian brethren beyond the embrace of their homeworld to the stars and defend them on the way. Not all Titans functioned as deep-space transport nowadays, but that was the original idea behind their frametype. Wayfarers.

And just when Lost Light started to go mad between moorings and itched to stretch his warp drive, because Primus and Unicron conspired to punish him specifically for his hubris, the Quintessons struck.

And Titans of Cybertron, eternal guardians they are, stood as the first line. While the little ones below scrambled around and got their priorities and slag-all in order, they stood. And together they withstood successfully. Neither Cybertron nor any planet in it's system fell to the Quintessons. It was not a clean victory, and Quints broke the lines to land incursions, but the Titans weathered enough that the little ones on the grounds were not overwhelmed. They endured the first of storms.

In the end of the beginning, the home system was safe, the civil war was over, and the Titans under the newly united Cybertronian High Command were partially reassigned to the outer fronts.

Now, Lost Light is a tiny Titan. An unusually tiny Titan by Titan standarts. He heard it was because there was a mix-up of vessels for reforging into Titanframes, and his was made from a late shipment two classes below specification.

His largest configuration houses in theory a thousand crewmembers. He prefers his smallest, which should hold above a dozen, but he does not have even a dozen of a crew anyway. He is still a Titan, and can comfortably rip into one, two, three Quint ships, but he cannot withstand a dozen, and Primus below, Quint ships in outer space come in waves and swarm like the squids they are. Instead, in this war he does he does best of what he does - he runs. He is small, his warp drives and bridge generators are the best among his batchmates, and he is fast. So he runs.

There's no Quint blockade that can stop him. Perhaps his cargo hold is not the largest, but if he is given a delivery, he will deliver it as soon as possible, come Pit or high tides. There's no escort craft that can keep up with him (and let's be honest, they are already understaffed enough that they simply can't find proper escort for his size), so he runs alone. If the Prime himself needs an express delivery, Lost Light is the Titan for the job.

He sees a lot of stars on his runs. He is pretty sure some of them are at least unclaimed, and some may be uncharted at all, so he marks them all on his maps. For later! Once the war ends, the beautiful, beautiful stars are his! He amasses a lot of maps, colors and marks them in the brightest hues his software comes with.

And some little ones even ask after the maps. Not like he hides them or something.

So, when the Prime calls, he comes.

Prime waits for him in the hanger personally. Together with the usual retinue, very much less usual very large pile of maps, boards and documents, a Perceptor hidden behind the pile of stuff (Xanthium talks about her favorite gunner a lot, when they have time to catch up), some twitchy engineer and his frequent passenger of express ferry Head Tactician Prowl.

Who has something very tiny enthusiastically crawling on him. Something so tiny, he has to recalibrate his inner and outer sensors for recordicon contact. His optics were hit in bot mode by rocks larger! Which were sometimes crawling with assorted space crustaceans! Come to think of it, thos crustaceans moved similarly...

And, because he is better at acceleration than braking, first thing Lost Light does is voice this observation.

"Prowl, sir, you've got crabs"

...

That was a start of a wonderful working relationship. Once they calm the tiny organic down from laughing, that is. It's name is Jazz, and it needs a ride home. Home which is besieged by Quintessons, and likely is near a fortified outpost, if not a starbase.

Strictly speaking, usually Titans are kept apart from organics, because they are usually very small, and tend to rot and fossilize. But since Lost Light is also very small, he got a direct invitation to an organic planet and immediately engaged his internal environmental system to produce enough oxygen. This is a chance of a lifetime!

Which brings him to his current... Problem?

The thing is, Jazz apparently has comrades. They pilot simulacrum frames specialized in Quint killing, which is very much respectable. And Lost Light's alt-mode's hangar bay may be a little tight in this configuration, but still compatible with them.

The issue is, one of those simulacrums which Lost Light got to shelter, a pleasantly painted one (flame patterns are always in vogue! No matter what anybody says!), appears to have broken down. Which made the organic inside very upset. At least he thinks it's upset, he is not very good at reading organics. Those "humans" do have fields, but they are very dull in comparison to Cybertronian ones.

The little organic with great taste is shouting what appears to be obscenities at unresponsive frame and alternates this with begging. Lost Light is floundering in his processor. The organic performs some indecipherable actions towards a fuel line of some sort with a tiny wrench. He's been at it for hours. None of the others from Jazz's makeshift warband returned yet.

This means Lost Light is responsible as the hosting Titan. Lost Light is usually alone. He does not quite know how to host other Cybertronians for prolonged periods of time, let alone organics. He hopes he maintains a nice oxygenated atmosphere.

He cannot watch this anymore. He has to gather all his confidence in his circuits and do something. Like talk to an organic without Prowl or the twitchy engineer (Swear? Swole? Swire? Swalter?) present. And, well, he'll figure how to decelerate later!

"Little one, do you require any assistance? I do have an internal welder somewhere..."

The organic startles, almost falling from it's precarious perch at the simulacrum's locked elbow joint, catches itself in time, and glances around. Then it glances up. And around again.

"I haven't hit my head that hard, yes? Is there someone here?"

"Well, yes? I mean no offence, but you're inside me"

Silence answers him, quickly broken by laughter. He remembers Jazz laughing. It is a similar laugh. He thinks he likes this laugh more.

"Well, I did not expect the ship to be speaking too. I really should not be surprised after this whole month"

At least the organic isn't despairing anymore? Lost Light thinks he can see a smile on it's face if he strains the camera.

"Technically, I'm a Titan. I'm a ship in the same way Deadlock is a,,, what you call small ground vehicle... Car? If I want to, I can be a building."

"Wait, but if you're the ship... How big do you guys come?!"

"Very. Now, little one, do you want my welder or not?"

Another wave of laughter follows.

"I do have a name!"

"You did not introduce myself"

"Cheeky. And yet, you did not introduce yourself either, big ship"

"My designation is Lost Light, and I'm the best Titan Courier this side of the galaxy"

The organic seems to finally locate his internal camera and so it points at it with it tiny wrench. Lost Light thinks it likes it's smile too.

"Well, nice to meet'cha, Lost Light. Name's Hot Rod. Now, about that welder..."

Lost Light rummages in his inventory for his favorite welder, mountable on a cargo manipulator. It is surprisingly elusive.

"I have it, I have it.... somewhere. It's been a long time since I patched up myself."

"...You patch yourself up often?"

"Nowadays not much, I'm a very good runner, and... Aha! There it is!"

Hot Rod look very, very happy to see the welder-wielding cargo manipulator. He is so much smaller than the tiniest little ones he carried. He reminds Lost Light of something that escapes his processor.

"Thanks, big ship. I hate ruptured lines. God knows when Ratch and that Swerve guy will be back"

"I'm not that big, you know. And I'm glad to be of assistance"

Despite pointed critique from the organic called Ratchet later on, Lost Light considers his skills with a welder in his internal cargo manipulator arms to be above average.

Hot Rod thinks so too, and ire of a medic shared is misery halved in Lost Light's books.

And then it hits him.

He reminds Lost Light of those beautiful, beautiful distant stars.

Lost Light prepares a very tiny datapad for a very big map.

.*.*.*.

...And here it is. I got possessed. Guest-starring my basic knowledge of astrophysics and bad jokes.

OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS TAKE ON THEM SO MUCH

[celestialdaily]

Callisto vs The Moon

[lets-try-some-writing]

Ohoho I have a fun idea for The Moon, (I just got that idea last night and really wanted to share it, SO YOU SAYING YOU WANT OUR IDEAS IS JUST SO PERFECT) and it just got WAY longer that I anticipated, oh no…anyway enjoy :

So we humans, despite how harsh and unprotected from solar wind and radiation Moons surface is, still want to, if not fully colonize, then at least put some kind of research base, or a point between Earth and Mars (in some of my favorite sci-fi novels The Moon is always colonized/with scientific bases).

-and then it hit me – Humans are Moons Citizens - what if (in main or AU of an AU XD) when humans finally got to the point of living on The Moon, what if this titan just adopted them as his new citizens? :D

Why? Well idk, maybe he softened a little over the eons, or Erath just convinced him to give humanity a chance – after all, so far the best ideas for moon bases are either buildings covered in the lunar regolith (you know, solar wind and radiation) or just build some in one of the bigger caves. After a while he just accepted and grew fond of them as his new (weird) citizens.

And while writing it I got another thought – Marss reaction when humans just suddenly land on his surface, build bases, and what is that “potato” thing?, and – HEY! PUT MY ADOPTED ROVERS DOWN!

Moon personally wouldn't be all that happy with the fleshies opting to build on him. He holds little love for Earth's children, especially since they hurt her with every breath. However, he would have have to commend them for bothering to make it all the way to his surface in light of the difficulties involved with the journey. Those few who can get to him would be allowed a grace period. Moon is of the opinion that if a race wishes to progress, they must do so without direct aid. A Titan is meant to guard and nurture, not pave the way forward. That thought process is directly thrown into his opinion of humans potentially colonizing his surface.

They would not be allowed deep enough into his frame to reach the hidden places reserved for his Cybertronian citizens. Those places are sacred, only to be inhabited by Cybertronians he deems worthy. However, the humans that can stick it out on his surface without breaking too many of his rules would be welcomed. They can reside within him, to a certain extent. But they would learn very quickly that Moon has exactly ZERO tolerance for citizens who harm him purposefully. Any humans on his surface would have to adapt and become very good at getting what they need without harming him, or they might very well find themselves exposed to Moon's immune system.

The few who make it through his gauntlet would be granted his protection and care. Their descendants would need to follow the unspoken rules, but so long as those rules are followed, he would grow to care for them eventually. The fleshies are HIS weird cleaning crew citizens. They receive safety, warmth, and breathable air. In return, all they need to do is keep him in decent shape. It's nice to be polished after all. It is all but guaranteed that in such an instance, a Moon cult would form eventually. Humans aren't stupid. They would learn the place they called home had a mind of its own eventually.

If anyone asks, Moon does not claim them as his citizens. They are his cleaners. However, if touched, he can and will retaliate with the vengeance of a Titan whose precious children have been wronged. Earth would be thrilled at the development and take extra care to try and ensure only the hardiest of her children make it up to Moon. No need for extra deaths when Moon only wants the strong anyway.

As for Mars? Well he would be thrilled to find that new citizens want to reside within him! He's not a functionalist jerk like his dear brother Moon, so he is more than willing to make room on his frame for the humans so long as they don't hurt him. Oh and they can't take his rovers (sparklings) either. He wants his little ones to grow up in peace until he can get the Allspark. Those who disobey will be very politely told to go back to Earth. Failure to obey will result in Pluto taking the offenders instead. Pluto, being an attack grade Titan, does have room for citizens. However, citizens must work to earn their keep. A very active Titan does not equate to a very comfortable living experience.

The poor sods sent to Pluto get to live as though they are traversing the north sea until Pluto says they have served long enough to go to Earth or another Titan.

None of the Titans know what to make of the whole potato nonsense.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

ANYTHINGGG WITH LEVI PLEASE, annnnd I'd love for reader to be taller thannn him and yet he still like manhandles her?

Like imagine they are both captains LMAOO and they are always at each others throats because they can't stand each other but everyone else knows they just wanna fuck LMAOO

THANKSSSSS IN ADVANCE CINNA, UR THE BEST

Fuck her 'til her legs both twitch

Tags: dom!Levi x fem!Reader, enemies to lovers, secretive mutual pining, nsfw, smut, bondage, dirty talk, I can’t express this enough… they’re going to FUCK, mdni

An: Nepobabyy! I’m always happy to see a fic request from you because you and I have very similar tastes in men 🤤

For the record, this was NOT suppose to be happening.

You were supposed to be in bed: asleep. You weren’t even suppose to be awake. These were the only few hours that Levi gets to spend in total peace and quiet.

Levi was sitting in the small dining area of the cottage that he, you, and Hange share as leaders of the Survey Corps. The early hours of the morning was the only time that it was peaceful in this house. That's because you and Hange are usually still asleep at this hour unless there's a bit outing planned. The dining area was dimly lit by a small gas lantern that was sat upon the kitchen table, and Levi was reading a book until you came inside.

His narrow eyes flickered up to your frame as you haphazardly stumbled towards the counter. Levi couldn't tell if you were even fully awake or not. He didn't care though — not one bit. His eyes returned to his book as he took note of your messy hair and pretty skin being softly illuminated by the glow of the lantern. He didn't care though. He just happened to notice these things about you. He's observant.

You were absolutely the last person he wanted to see at four in the morning.

You and Levi were like oil and water. You two just didn't mix very well even though you're both captains over the survey corps. Some would compare you two to the sun and the moon, but it was more like you and Levi were two sides of the same coin.

Levi was a man of principle, rules, and boundaries. He lived his life to a strict, tidy schedule, and he strived to make others also adhere to his standard of living.

You were more like chaos. While you weren't necessarily messy or disorganized, you were more spontaneous - living by the seat of your pants constantly.

Levi loathed your methods, and he made it abruptly clear each time he could. As it happens, today he may have went a bit too far with his criticisms.

You were giving a training pep talk to the scouts, talking about living in the moment and letting the adrenaline take it's natural course in your veins. It was a really good talk, until Levi spoke up from behind you.

"I wonder just how many cadets felt that same rush of adrenaline right before they died by a titan exploiting their weakness-" He went on about the necessity of control and utter focus, but you mentally checked out from the conversation.

It wasn't the worst thing he had ever said to you. You two had your fair share of back and forth arguments that usually ended in Hange yelling at you two to just fuck and get over it. But this stung worse than other snide comments. He had insinuated that your methods - your leadership had led people to their deaths.

When you silently walked away from the cadets, walking past Hange like they weren't even there, they stared at Levi with a 'say something' expression, but Levi wouldn't suppress his pride like that... not even if something deep within him reverberated throughout his body.

He hadn't seen you all day, but here you were: encroaching on his peace and quiet, and fuck, he detested the pouty look of sorrow on your face as you were searching for something on the counter.

Your hand finally found what it was searching for: the neck of a whine bottle. Alcohol was a commodity around this area, but Erwin had gifted it to you, Levi, and Hange one Christmas. He wrote a thoughtful note of his gratitude towards the three of you.

The bottle of wine had been practically untouched. Levi didn't drink at all — period. Hange didn't like wine, so that left you in charge of taking care of the bottle.

The cork parted from the bottle with a loud 'pop', and Levi cut his eyes back towards you. "A bit early to start drinking." He muttered lowly, taking the chance to speak to you when you were clearly upset about earlier.

"I wonder how many of your scouts died before they were old enough to drink." You turned towards him, eyeing him down with a look that he's never seen from you. This wasn't just petty anger — this was betrayal, hurt, and frustration.

Levi's finger hooked into the collar of his white button-up shirt, and he pulled it away from his neck as the tension in the room was already suffocating enough. "Say what you mean, or don't speak to me at all."

He knew he fucked up, but he wasn't going to allow you to fire back at him the same way. Unlike you, he didn't let feelings get in the way of his duties. He had it perfectly under control... if you ignored the way his heart was slamming against his ribcage. His stomach was screaming at him to just be a man and apologize, but his prideful brain hated that idea.

"You undermined me in front of the scouts, and frankly, what you said was in poor taste. I don't know what I ever did to you to make you hate my presence so much, but if you pull that shit again, I will not walk away silently again." You turned the wine bottle upwards, and the stout red liquid poured down your throat.

"Are you threatening me?" Levi asks, and he closes his book so he can face you squarely. His sharp facial features were only accentuated from the light cast from the lantern.

"Men. All you hear is the last part of what I said. You never focus on the real problem of it all." The bottle clanks against the counter harder than you intended, and Levi rises from his chair carefully. You scoff with a small sarcastic chuckle. You know that Levi's humanity's strongest soldier, but he's still smaller than you. You have a few inches of height and wingspan on him as the top of your head just barely clears his. Without his ODM gear and swords, he's just a short guy with an attitude problem.

"The problem is you act on pure impulse. You don't ever think your actions through. You're going to end up dead one day." His steps are cold and calculated as he approaches you, and he takes the cork from your hand, swiftly shoving it back into the bottle.

"You should be celebrating that considering how much you hate me." You whisper under your breath — not needing to speak any louder with his body so close to yours. Your faces are mere inches apart, and his hands are placed on the counter behind you, trapping you in.

"Dumbass." He chided lowly, and his eyes flickered to your lips briefly — just long enough for you to notice.

Suddenly, you feel your own heart pounding in your chest. Your stomach twists and constricts from nerves and the wine that was rapidly digesting. The cottage was so. damn. quiet. You could hear both yours and Levi's breaths — neither of you daring to move an inch.

"I don't want you dead." Levi finally adds bluntly. "I..." His words get caught in his throat, and he takes a deep breath to soothe his nerves. "You're right. I undermined you, and that wasn't okay."

Your expression softens as you gaze at him. He's trying. It isn't an apology, but he admitted he was wrong. "It wasn't..." You respond softly before leaning in a fraction of an inch.

Levi's eyes are glued to your lips as you speak, and he bites at the side of his cheek - wondering what you tasted like this early in the morning.

"It wasn't okay for you to threaten me either... Rather, it's not okay to assume so easily that you'd win." His head tilts ever so slightly to the side, and he leans in closer to your warmth.

You tongue instinctively delves out, wetting your lips as he's so damn close to you. The tension between you two was absolutely palpable. "You don't think I'd win?" You ask softly — only to provoke him a bit more.

"Don't be so stupid." His voice drops an octave lower, and his hands find the back of your thighs before effortlessly lifting you up and onto the counter.

You may be taller than Levi, but what he lacks in height, he makes up for in raw strength and speed.

He stands between your legs before leaning in even closer, causing for you to lean back — pressing your head against one of the cupboards. "I can throw you around without a second thought." He lowly boasts.

His hand reaches for the top of your head, and he guides your face downwards to his with a firm tug. "So, I'd advice you not to threaten me again, or else I'll show you why I am a captain."

Your nose is just barely brushing against his, and you feel like you're struggling to breath with his intense gaze on you. "Maybe I'd respect you more if you did."

"Insolent brat." He grits before tugging you into him closer. Your lips smash against his as his hand tightens around your hair, keeping you still as he pours every ounce of lust and longing into the kiss.

Your breath picks up in speed as you wrap your arms around his neck, and your legs wrap around his waist. Levi lets out a small muffled grunt, and he promptly lifts you off of the counter, carrying you as if you were nothing but a stuffed animal to him towards his room.

“Levi..” You whispered between messy panicked kisses.

“Hm?” He hums against your lips, not bothering to part from them a for a second. He bumps his door shut with his hip before he walks to you to his bed, tossing you down onto the crisply folded sheets. His bed is made so meticulously. You wonder how long he spends on it each morning.

“This doesn’t seem like a fair fight.” You muse as you sit up, using your hands to prop up your body against his mattress.

A small barely noticeable smirk quirks up on Levi’s lips, and he stalks towards his bed. His hands are unbuttoning each of his shirt buttons one by one, slowly trailing down his muscular body.

“Well, you’re not even trying to fight back.” He replies in an almost humorous tone as he shrugs his shirt off of his shoulders. The piece of fabric falls to the ground.

“Oh? You want me to fight back?” You ask, cocking an eyebrow, and Levi inches closed to the bed that you unceremoniously splayed on.

“You can try.” He comments before you reach up to grab him and pull him down to you.

The two of you toss and turn, putting each other in different holds and presses. It’s honestly difficult to tell if you two are trying to fight or fuck. It’s probably a malgamation of both.

Except a clear answer is given when Levi is behind you, pinning you face down to his mattress with his hand pressed against your back. Your ass is turned upwards, rubbing against the seat of his pants perfectly.

“Such a brat. Making me work this damn hard for this.” He grunts lowly as he uses his free hand to undo his belt. He makes sure to keep you pinned while he slips the leather around your wrists, effectively binding your hands behind your back with his belt.

Your hips flutter upwards with a small sigh — presenting yourself to him as if you were in heat. Levi chuckles lowly at the sight, appreciating how needy you are for him after a bit of rough housing. He always suspected that you had a thing for liking it rough after many days of seeing your blushing face and trembling thighs while training.

“Filthy girl.” He mutters while giving your ass a firm spank. His hands then find the waistband of your pajama pants, and he tugs them down with ease before admiring your pretty pussy — still clothed by the thin material of your panties. He can see a small wet spot from your arousal already building.

“Levi..” You whimper into his pillow, pushing your hips back further towards him. You were tired of being tough and strong. You wanted needed to just give in to your most basic, primal desires.

“Shhh. I know.” He murmurs tenderly as his fingers graze against your dampening panties. “Let me fix it. I always do.” He carefully strokes your clothed pussy once more before he focuses his fingers against the small button of nerves, rubbing tight circles into your core.

“Ahh~” You let out a breathy whine, completely enthralled by the fact that you can’t move at all. You’re stuck complying with his whims because Levi can just maneuver you into whatever position he wants you in. He doesn’t give a fuck how much taller or bigger you think you are than him.

Your panties are swiftly pulled down as Levi doesn’t think he can live with the throbbing pain of his cock twitching in the confines of his pants and boxers. His eyes marvel at your glistening cunt — so pretty and wet, just for him.

His mouth salivated at the thought of getting a taste, but he’s in a frenzy when he looked at the clock on the wall. It’s nearly six in the morning, which is when Hange normally rolls out of bed. He really didn’t need them ruining this for him.

His hand shoves his pants down, exposing his all too heavy cock, and he takes this moment to jerk himself a few times to the beautiful sight he has in front of him.

You’re bent over, looking as complacent as ever with his belt tying your hands behind your back. You’re rendered completely useless, and even if you weren’t, you’re so needy for his cock that you can barely even function.

“Gods, fuck.. please.. please.” You whine and beg beneath him, tugging against your makeshift restraints as if to entice him more.

His co-captain is such a needy mess. He needed to fuck some sense into you.

“Yeah.. you want it?” He asks as he presses his sweltering tip against your drooling entrance. A hefty groan falls from his lips as he feels how fucking warm you are. It’s been far too fucking long for him. There’s no way he’s lasting long, especially not inside your divine pussy.

“W-want it.. yes, Levi.. Please I want it.” You shamelessly beg, even while you know it’ll be a tight squeeze, and fuck, it’s a damn near impossible squeeze.

Your toasty walls grip him like a vice as he bullied his way so deeply inside of you, forcing his eyes to roll back into his head as he let out quiet grunts and growls. He bit onto his inner cheek hard to keep himself from finishing so prematurely.

He’s a gentleman at heart, wanting to pull as many orgasms from you as he can before he busts himself, but chivalry be damned; he wants to pump you so full that you’re unable to walk for the of the day.

“You’re so.. mmmph.. fucking tight… shit... Squeezing me like you don’t hate my guts.” He muses as he slowly rocks his hips back and forth. He grips the belt that’s binding your wrists, and he pulls you down onto his cock harder, literally skewering you onto him. 

“Oh fuck! Levi!” You cry out, unable to even filter your noises in the slightest. “D-don’t hate you.. ngh.. need you, want you.” You whine, and Levi subtly smiles from your sudden sweet comments, but he’s not going to let off that easily.

He growls lowly before he lets go of your wrists. His smaller frame mounts you from behind before he takes his hand, wrapping it into your hair, and shoves your face down farther into his pillow. “Shut the fuck up before you wake someone.” He warns in a husky whisper pressed right against your ear.

“‘m sorry… ‘m sorry! nnngh~ so good.. I can’t help it.” You apologized in a muffled whine, making Levi scoff at your pathetic attempts of being good for him.

When your noises are subdued a little bit, his hands flee your hair, and he grips your hips hard enough to bruise as he pounded into you relentlessly.

The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin echoes in his room, mixing with your muffled moans and Levi's grunts of pleasure. It’s filthy and wrong and so fucking hot that Levi thinks he might actually combust from the intensity of it all.

Your legs are completely trembling, and you’re just so fucking wet. Your poor messy cunt is dripping all over his sheets and blanket, and Levi’s vulgar mind is focused on how he’ll be able to smell you later. He’s already planning on getting himself off to the scent of your arousal.

“Fuck Levi… I c-can’t.. mm.. I’m going to cum-!” You warn in a breathless whine, unable to keep up with the way his hips are brutally snapping behind you.

“That’s all you can take, brat?” He mocks with a taunting laugh before he wraps your hair around his knuckles, tugging your face up from the pillow. “Cum for me.” He demands lowly, slamming himself into you even deeper — trying to push himself directly into your womb with the way his tip is kissing your cervix with each deep thrust.

Not even a second later, you drenched walls convulse around him, squeezing him somehow even tighter than before. It’s the only piece of heaven that a devil like Levi will ever see. Now’s as good of time as any.

His thrusts become sloppy, his rhythm faltering as he dances on the edge of an orgasm. You could feel him throbbing deep inside you, his cock pulsing with the need for release.

Levi grits his teeth together, and he forces your body against his rapidly, making you see stars as you’re trying to cope with your own orgasm. His bed is rattling and knocking against the wall, but he can’t bring himself to care.

A loud breathy groan rips through the air as he finally pumps you so fucking full of his cum. His cock just keeps twitching with ribbon after ribbon. It’s been so long since his last release. He’s sure that the sheer potency of his seed will likely get you pregnant, but he only finds that idea to be even more enticing.

Your legs are twitching as your body slumps against the bed. His cock eases out of you slowly, and he watches with lust filled eyes as his cum starts to seep out of your ruined hole. A small frown occupies his lips, and he scoops some of his own semen onto his fingers before he pushes them deep inside you — fucking his cum back into you.

“Mmmnph!” You whine into the pillows at your back arches back up.

“It’s your own damn fault for being wasteful. Keep whining like that, and I’ll pump more into you.” He threatens as his fingers piston in and out of you at a leisurely pace.

Your head turns to face him while still forcibly being bent over, and you give him a small mischievous grin before letting out another pornographic whine.

“You’re fucking asking for it now, brat.” He grunts as he swiftly flips you onto your back. Levi is a man of his word after all.