#what is morality but the judgement of gods by men

[lady-hibiscus]

wake up babe unstable universe and lifesteal incorrect quotes pt.2 just dropped

-> pt. 1

[bonefall]

Not sure if this is the place to ask or if I should go to Bonebabble, but ooh, Dungeon Meshi mention! I love what you said about low-empathy and apathy, I think I’ll use that in ny own characters.

I wanted to ask why you think Shuro is autistic. I’ve seen a lot of people say it so there must be a reason why, but I don’t think it’s really obvious to me? Like with Laios, autism/neurodivergence is so integral to his story, so it’s deeply obvious. I love the way he’s written! But we don’t see a lot of Shuro, so I’d like to hear more of why people see the tism in him.

@bonebabbles is the better place to send these in the future but it's chill! The vibe right now's loose since we're all coming down from the heaviness of Mooncourse lmao

Honestly, I feel a little 'tism in a lot of the cast of Dungeon Meshi. As a very autistic writer myself, it kind of has a vibe like it was written by someone who's autistic and so it gets peppered into all of her characters. It's something I notice a lot in my own art, too.

But like, when it comes to Toshiro... I can't stop thinking about him. He makes me want to chew the furniture. With every passing day I become less normal about him.

glossary because I had a lot of thoughts about Toshiro Dungeon Meshi i guess. Oh my god this got long

He reminds me of some people I know

His culture clash is very relatable to me in an autistic way

He has a rigid commitment to his values and morals

Miscellaneous Autism Moments

THE LAIOS FIGHT

in conclusion

He reminds me of some people I know

He reminds me of certain autistic men I've met from affluent families. The type who both is taught to repress and mask their own traits, yet also not to be incredibly mindful of the emotions of other people. Because of their status, they don't have to learn how to work out interpersonal conflict because the majority of the people around them are servants or family. People who would never go away if they didn't like you.

So, his vassals have to learn to talk to him and how to carry out his orders. Not the other way around. As a result, Toshiro has a bit of unearned confidence about his leadership abilities and communication skills. NOT in a way that is smug, DO NOT misunderstand me; just in a way that overestimates his own judgement. Maybe he has encyclopedic knowledge for talking to other nobles offscreen, but when it came to his own team, he was ignoring a lot of the good advice they gave him about taking breaks.

Yes, Toshiro is from a high-context culture-- but his communication issues are bad with everyone.

ESPECIALLY his vassals, people he calls family, from the same exact culture as him. They're worried about him, most of them are desperate for acknowledgement, they'd do anything for him, and he doesn't address this until AFTER his brawl with Laios!

His culture clash is very relatable to me in an autistic way

Toshiro knew he was going somewhere that was going to be a melting pot of mostly western cultures. He knew the manners were going to be different, and he came alone, not in a group where he was only interacting with his own people.

Yet he NEVER adjusted his own social behavior.

I'm American and my partner is British. When I first went, I had no idea why they were offering me so much tea. I thought I was being polite by following them into the kitchen, thinking they wanted to move the conversation over there. My partner quickly fixed this by explaining that when someone offers you tea, they're taking a short pause in the lull of a conversation to be a good host.

I am autistic. What someone else might have just figured out through getting an awkward look, I had to be told directly. There are a lot of little things like that.

Toshiro feels like what would happen if the opposite was happening, an autistic person from a high-context culture coming to a low-context culture. He can't properly express discomfort. It's not JUST Laios, King of Autism, that he's having issues talking to. Neither Marcille nor Chilchuck know that "Shuro" is a mispronunciation, and they had no clue that he disliked Laios THIS much.

I even think it's kinda telling that Toshiro felt the most comfortable with Falin out of the rest of the party. The hyper-empathetic autistic girl who goes out of her way to accommodate others.

He has a rigid commitment to his values and morals

A strict, uncompromising moral compass is a hallmark of autism. It's everything Toshiro does!!

When Falin was eaten, he bolted off to assemble the best team he could think of. He believes that love is sacrifice, so he pushes his body and his family to the limit to try and prove how much he loves Falin. Chilchuck freaks out when he finds out that Laios told him about the dark magic, because "HE'S THE WORST PERSON TO TELL!"

LIKE, YEAH! HE SURE IS!

Maizuru also explains that from a very young age, he's been incredibly compliant. He never asks for anything, he's always been a bit sickly and uninterested in eating. He always tries to be on his very best behavior, even if that means not asking for accommodations he might actually need.

In fact, the only food he seems to LIKE eating is what Maizuru makes him. To the point where she ended up getting pulled into the kitchen even when she was on a "mission." Senshi makes a cute comment that it's "love" that Maizuru puts into those meals, but... what if it's actually because she knows the textures and flavors he likes?

Miscellaneous Autism Moments

There's so many little moments that are so incredibly autistic to me.

He sees Falin with a bug and he proposes right on the spot. The other characters are like, "oh that's just how they act in the east" but no the fuck it is not. They don't even know "Shuro" is a mispronunciation, how the hell do they know anything about eastern courting traditions?

I know EXACTLY what happened. I'm beaming you this information directly from the truth.

Toshiro was TOLD that you're supposed to 1. make your proposals a surprise, and 2. you will know the right one when you see them, and NO ONE elaborated any further because he comes from a high context culture. He popped that question the first time both of those boxes were ticked off.

In coming from a high context culture, what he does is strictly follow rules and conditions he was taught.

And that's absolutely why he handed Laios that bell. Because he does care about him and the party, and he's taught that doing these acts of service is a show of that... and he didn't even think ahead to the fact the bell was going to be ringing constantly.

And yet. In spite of that, he ALWAYS keeps it near him.

Before it clicked and I realized why, I used to think Toshiro was kind of an asshole for running off to get his vassals without even telling Marcille and Laios about his plan. Like... how could you not know they were going to do something drastic? The three of them were the Falin Fan Club and he was the most normal member of it. It's so obvious to me that Laios (brother) and Marcille (""Gal Pal"") were going to get themselves in danger.

So how could you just run off like that without telling them? Even if lack of supplies meant they couldn't go back in, how could you just leave them worried sick in the town, thinking you abandoned Falin?

And then it hit me. The man just has low empathy.

There WAS no malice, just like how there wasn't malice in how he was pushing him and his vassals to the limits, just like how there was never malice against Laios. It simply didn't occur to him like that.

He's never been taught to consider the thoughts and feelings of others very deeply and they don't come naturally. He's still compassionate. There's a reason all of his vassals love him!

But THAT'S WHY he never put himself in Laios' shoes, or anyone else's. Empathy does not come naturally to him. All of his good behavior is as a result of his moral code, NOT empathy.

So with that said, why does he love Falin so much? Aside from the wonderful, positive traits he lists when he's asked? I mean, what's really deep down at the core of why he finds these things so lovely?

Well... Falin and Laios are not all that different from each other, to the point where Toshiro gets gently ribbed in a bonus chapter about how if one of them was a girl, Shuro might have loved Laios instead. He waxes poetic about the ways she's different from most women, how she's not afraid of things like insects, her compassion, her face, her laugh.

These are all things Laios does too (in fact in one of the panels where Toshiro is appreciating Falin, she's trying to check if a caterpillar is a male or female), but Falin's personality expresses in a more subdued and introverted way. Closer to how Toshiro is, as a person. So... I think it's because he relates to her.

To both Touden siblings. But Laios makes him see things he doesn't want to.

THE LAIOS FIGHT

We established that Toshiro has a strict commitment to his values, he probably has low empathy, and even taking his cultural differences into account he's bad at communicating.

So then, why was one of his complaints against Laios' obliviousness that he "knows he doesn't mean anything by it, and that makes it worse"? Isn't that kinda specific when you think about it?

If you're neurodivergent, I want you to think back to points in time where you dealt with people who have the same issues you do. Autism, ADHD, PTSD, DID, whatever. Did you ever have a moment where they did something harmless or mildly inconvenient, definitely as a result of the same exact thing you have, and you just... HATED it?

You HATED it even more than you would anyone else doing the same thing. You probably know your response was disproportionate. But YOU don't do that THING they did. Or if you do that, it's less bad somehow. Or you used to do that but don't anymore and it reminds you of when you did.

If you're reflective, you might have realized it might be internalized ableism. I feel like that's a huge part of why Toshiro finds Laios SO. ANNOYING. Laios is like this stupid, idiot, blundering caricature of things Toshiro has been taught to avoid, which violate his moral code. Shuro comes from a place of so many more rules and subtle cues, and it's like Laios doesn't respect any of them.

What STARTS this fight, causes Laios to finally hit back after being smacked, shoved, and shouted at, is being told "YOU'RE NOT TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY."

It's so obviously wrong! Laios, who ran back into a dungeon immediately? Who Toshiro himself called rash? This is NOT a logical conclusion to make about Laios or his party. I think it came from frustration that Laios "does things the wrong way." That it's projection, stemming from that low empathy.

He's not like Kabru in the same chapter, who's desperately trying to get a read on Laios' inner workings and failing. Shuro's just extrapolating his own feelings onto him, because he's recognizing that same "sense" within him. If TOSHIRO didn't follow the rules he sets down for himself, that's not "taking it seriously."

Toshiro follows the rules. Laios does not.

...and Laios is FREE.

He's open and honest in a way Toshiro can never be, not as a noble, not as an easterner, and not as an autistic man. Hell, Laios was ALSO a noble, he gave that up! Threw that away, and then came back to his village and took Falin away from it. If Laios is acting like an idiot, he's acting like an idiot who does everything Toshiro has ever wanted to do. Laios cannot mask and Toshiro resents that.

One of the things Toshiro even explicitly says he HATES about Laios is the fact he's willing to be a burden on other people. Maizuru said earlier that he's NEVER made a "selfish request" before-- but Laios can just open his mouth and ask for help, feeling no shame, just as he did in this chapter when he asked him not to tell the Island Lord about the dark magic.

And then, after they literally come to blows, Toshiro tells Laios some incredibly brutal things, revealing he's NEVER been his friend and he has resented him this whole time. This actually sits with Laios well into the later chapters, but the fight ends and then they're just CHATTING FRIENDLY LIKE IT DIDN'T MATTER.

More honestly than ever before, because Toshiro is returning the effort. He eats some food (the narrative's metaphor for making connections). He thanks his vassals for the first time. He talks about how he wishes he'd told Falin about all the things he adored about her when he still had the chance.

I have to take the panels of his response right out of the manga actually because this little expression here is so subtle, but so meaningful.

(Read <- <- <- that way)

Look at the way that when Laios makes that genuine movement, assuring him with passion that he will be making sure Falin receives this message, Toshiro's gut response is annoyance. But then it softens and he pauses, like he's reconsidering what his response is going to be.

To admit that he envies "this side of Laios" is also admitting that the earlier fight was based on envy.

Laios was like this the WHOLE time. Making these grand speeches about his plans, what his party's been doing, how Toshiro needs to eat something and take a nap. He's ALWAYS been like this. It was Toshiro's mindset that changed.

In conclusion

Something I really like about Dungeon Meshi is HOW MANY of its characters can be read as autistic. Laios is just the most obvious one, with his special interest in monsters and inability to read social cues being central to the plot. His is a more "well known" expression of autism-- it's rare you get characters whose masking is central to their characters.

But it's really refreshing to see characters like Kabru, Falin, and Toshiro. Autistic people are rare enough in popular media to begin with, but we NEVER get characters whose autism intersects with their trauma, gender, and culture quite like these three.

[lokisgoodgirl]

A Gentlemen's Agreement [Reader x Loki/Steve/Bucky]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: It's time for you to make up your mind. And the boys have just the plan to help you do that. (w/c 3.2k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smutty. Teasing. Sexual tension. Not a foursome. A/N: Loki is my king. I just needed to get this out thanks to @sidepartskinnyjeans

The click of Steve’s dress shoes echoed as he ushered you away from the busy ballroom of Stark’s county house. Your nerves were fizzing, but your face didn’t betray the flutter of excitement growing in your belly. In the darkness of the mahogany lined corridor, firelight licked from a solitary open doorway. A nod from the captain urged you silently inside. Walking into the room, your breath hitched. Whatever you had expected from his clandestine invitation in the crowd, this wasn’t it.

Steve circled around you, taking his place in the menacingly sensual line-up. There they stood in quiet stoicism, dressed in fitted finery – the trio of beneficiaries to your relentless flirtations. Their arms were folded, their legs wide in triangular determination. For the briefest of moments, you wondered how all of them had managed to excuse themselves from the party at once. But seeing the way they were taking up space, stretching the air with their achingly large egos, that question was quickly forgotten. Each was more breathtakingly handsome than the last. Rogers. Barnes. Laufeyson. “What is this?” you giggled nervously, snapping to each set of blue eyes in turn. They began to smirk in unison. You shivered despite the heat from the fire. “S’come to our attention you’ve been pulling the same tricks on all of us,” the winter soldier drawled, his accent thick with playful taunt. You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t know what you-” “Oh, I think you do, Agent,” Laufeyson hummed, tilting his head. Long fingers drummed on his bicep as he rocked on his heels. Roaring firelight was haloed behind the ebony mane that cascaded around the shoulders of a midnight-blue suit sitting snug to his body. You pressed your lips together, stifling a whimper. “Look fellas, she’s blushing," Steve teased. The three of them chuckled. “I don’t blush,” you snipped, folding your arms to match them. “And I’d appreciate if you could tell me why the three of you are lined up like...like…” The words you searched for ebbed as you readjusted your feet. It was all you could do not to go over on your ankle in these stupid heels. Heat was building between your thighs, the unmistakeable thump of arousal beating as your addled thoughts raced beneath their penetrating stares.

You knew exactly what Bucky meant. And now it seemed, so did they. You knew bending over to pick up that pen in front of all three of them yesterday was a bad idea. Although, no one in the world would blame you – working with three of the finest specimens of masculinity ever created. Had you gone out your way to tease and flirt with each one of them over the past several months? Possibly. But hey, it was good for morale. And besides, there wasn’t a hope in hell any of them would return your affections. Not serial-bed hopper Barnes, he didn’t fuck where he ate. Not tightly wound Rogers, you seriously doubted he’d approve of subordinate relations. And as for the ice king – you weren’t even sure he knew your name.

The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire. God, you wished it wasn’t so hot. Your eyes searched the floor, hearing Loki clear his throat. “As Barnes noted, you have been toying with each of us in a manner both indecent and egregious these past months.” He let the rhetorical judgement marinate in silence before continuing. “Do you deny it?” You raised your eyes to his, seeing the embers of mischief smouldering within. “No,” you said confidently, as all three men cast conspiratorial glances to one another. Rogers balanced his elbow on a tight fist, raising his fingers to his chin. He narrowed his eyes. “That dress though fellas," he growled with uncharacteristic lust. "Have you ever seen such a thing?” Barnes snorted. “Forget two birds with one stone, that outfit takes out three cocks with one hit.” His blue eyes were dark in the low light, heavy brows shadowing the contours as his chin dipped. “An assassin, even off the clock.” he grit. “And she knows how much I love that neck.” While he was speaking, you instinctively brushed a strand hanging from your up-do away from the boatline collar of the dress. He was right. You did know. You had known ever since the first of his ragged breaths, tangible desire pulsing in his veins and stretching his trousers as he massaged your shoulders. The first time you had asked, he had thought you were joking. But every time you felt the cool flatness of his metal limb against your spine, steadying you as his fingers found every pocket of tension in your upper body – both you and he knew it was no laughing matter. Had you exaggerated the moans of pleasure his touch released? No. There had been no need. It felt fucking phenomenal. Orgasmic, even. And you hadn’t held them back. Your neck had extended to the side as his fingertips pulsed into the most delicate areas, breathy pants filling the air that you hoped made him think of how you would sound as he fucked you into the headboard. “And she knows how much I love those legs,” Steve smouldered, curling a finger against his lips as his gaze ran from your hips to the floor and back again. The dress stopped midway up your thighs, perfectly tight before the sheer drop of your limbs to the heels. You had caught him staring open-mouthed as you pulled yourself dripping wet from the ocean on a mission in the Seychelles months ago. His face had flushed as you’d clocked him running up your femurs, a bite of his lip betraying the base need boiling beneath an all-business exterior.

On every mission, you now made a point of elevating your leg as you snapped on the holsters, lunging forward against the nearest bench. Wall. Anything to drive him mad. You wondered how often he thought of your legs wrapped around his hips while his tactical suit lay strewn around his ankles. Without fail, his teeth always found their way to his bottom lip; a clench of his ass and a forbidden husk of ‘goddam’ under his breath making you smirk as you turned away. “And I think not that I need to point out what aspect of the offending garment is for me,” Loki purred, releasing the cross of his arms to fall behind his back in a ceremonial clasp. “It’s green," Bucky stated, licking his lips. “Yes," Loki replied in baritone, cheekbones sharpening. “It is.”

Loki. Now that was a story. Yes, you had felt the linger of his keen eyes on your ass. But who hadn’t. And yes, his gravelled pleasantries that always dripped a little closer than necessary into your ear were tempting. But the god was a walking temptation. It was his nature. He was indiscernible, a mystery. Aside from briefings, the longest you had ever spent in his company had been when he would extend his hand wordlessly on nights just like this, leading you the dance-floor. All onlookers would see was the standard wrapping of his arms around your waist, and yours over his shoulders. They did not see the small circles grazed on the nape of his neck beneath his curls, the half-innocent moans released by his ear when he brought you in from a spin. They did not see the lingering play of your fingers on the delicate skin of his wrists, the bite of your lip as Loki’s hips pressed into your stomach. A solitary flame in a sea of cold indifference. You’d take any heat from him could you get. They didn’t see his brows twitch as he registered the green lingerie down the carefully calculated neckline of your dress. Just for him. Your breathing had becoming shallow. Were you actually about to have all three of them at once? Was that even physically possible? Two super-soldiers and a god? You didn’t know if you would survive – but something told you it might be worth it. Positions and logistics raced through your mind, making you dizzy. You shook your head.

“OK you got me, I fancy all of you. So what? It’s just a bit of fun,” you gasped, running sweaty palms casually down the front of your dress. “The fellas and I have an idea, if you’re agreeable of course,” Steve said slowly, following Loki in clasping his hands behind his back. You squinted, congratulating yourself for encouraging the captain’s foray into unbuttoning the top of his shirts. His pulse was racing, you could see it pumping beneath his jawline. Bucky still stood with his arms loosely crossed over a waistcoat, the cotton of his thick white shirt bulging against metal and flesh. A sliver of steel glinted in the firelight, sleeves folded up to the elbows. He nodded once, without a flicker of a smile. Fuck, they all looked so good. “A gentlemen’s agreement, if you will,” Loki uttered, a smile curling on his lips. He’d been waiting to deliver that line, you could tell. “You like us. We like you. But we don’t share," Bucky glowered matter-of-factly. You could feel the thin fabric of your panties sticking to your lips, tacky and unbearably wet from this erotic ambush. “You don’t?” you quipped. “What a shame.” “We don’t," Steve repeated. “At least not ye-” he cast a glance to Bucky, before clearing his throat. “We think it’s important you uh...focus your attentions. If that’s what you wanna do.” A sudden thrill raced through your blood. The idea that they had planned this, that they had spoken about you in hushed whispers behind closed doors made your pussy hum with forbidden pleasures.

You wandered to the antique sofa to the side, feeling the heated stares of each of the men follow you. “What’s this gentleman’s agreement, then?” you purred, crossing your legs. Steve swallowed as the tight emerald fabric rode up your thigh. The god of mischief laughed softly, a deep sound which seemed to shake the room like bass.

“Each of us will kiss you, and then you must decide,” he said matter-of-factly. “The unsuccessful will respect your choice of victor and no retaliation will be made.” “Decide?” “Which of us to get to know better," Steve explained, shrugging off his suit jacket. He threw it gently over his shoulder, making it land on the back of a chair behind him with magnetic finesse. Bucky rolled his eyes. “I think what the captain’s tryna say is that we all wanna get to know you, better. So it’s lady’s choice,” he winked. You raised an eyebrow towards Loki. You couldn’t imagine him ever agreeing to something like this. A solitary nod was his only response, eyelashes fluttering down in a moment of panty-wetting reverence. “I accept,” you said slowly, running your eyes across the line-up. Their competitive sincerity was catching. You wet your lips in anticipation, still in disbelief that this was actually happening. Perhaps your corpse was lying strewn on the dance-floor, paramedics hoisting you onto a trolley in a body-bag. Perhaps this was heaven. And maybe it was the low lighting, or maybe it was the dancing shadows licking their wide bodies stacked with endless muscle. But you could swear that each and every one of them was hard. “As discussed. Thirty seconds,” Loki murmured coolly to the men standing to attention on his right, flourishing a hand. Barnes stepped forward, smoothing long strands of chestnut hair behind his ears.

“Alright,” he growled confidently, swaggering the several steps and planting onto the sofa beside you. His thighs spread against the antique furniture, flexing beneath the tight suit trousers as he twisted his torso to face you. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils, smoked wood and lingering sage like a wet autumn forest. His hand cupped your jawline, the steel arm resting on the back of the curved rest.

“Here goes nothin,” he whispered to himself, curled digits trailing longingly down the curve of your neck. They tugged at the neckline of your dress, slipping it over the curve. He leant forward, parted lips colliding with the crescent of your shoulder. Your eyelids fluttered closed, a staggered moan you didn’t realise was hiding released as he worked across your skin. His stubble tingled against the delicate surface, the flat of his nose slotting beneath your ear as his kisses became hungrier against your pulse point. Less delicate. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this, darlin',” he rasped, before licking licentiously from the base of your throat to the angle of your jaw. In seconds, his mouth was pressed to yours; tongue eagerly flicking against your lips before you let him enter. Bucky’s moan was dynamite, fingers guiding your chin as he devoured you in targeted desire. He leant you backwards into the cushions while your arm instinctually slid between his shoulder-blades, pulling him closer. Barnes groaned as his hand slid covetously from your waist and up the curve of your breasts, before burrowing deep into your bun. He thrust gruffly against you on instinct, something thick and menacingly primal dragging against your thigh. The feeling of his fingers tugging at your scalp sent your heat into overdrive, clenching desperately around air. “Time,” Loki purred calmly. Stubble scratched a final time, your hand flying to rest on his metal arm as you breathlessly broke apart with a whimper. Barnes winked, the skin surrounding his mouth pink as he rose and re-joined the other two. You cast glances between them while your chest heaved.

“Do you need a moment?” Steve inquired politely, folding the sleeves of his shirt up further. You watched the veins in his muscled forearms tighten with the movement, the slight bend of his knees as he gave a deferential cough. As if he’s preparing for a fight, you thought as your head continued to spin from Bucky’s kiss. “No, I’m good,” you slurred, smiling as you straightened and patting the sofa beside you. “I prefer it standing, if that’s alright,” Steve said tentatively, brow twitching in mild alarm as he saw your eyes widen. But he didn’t retract it. Standing obediently, it suddenly occurred to you that a kiss on the hand would be very on brand for him, perhaps rethinking his part in this atypical charade. But Steve paced towards you, looking as determined as he did striding down the ramp of the quinjet. Your breath hitched as the captain’s hands cupped your face, walking you expertly back towards the walled bookcase. A shelf pressed against your spine while Rogers bore down, his gentle tongue nudging at your lips; and with a whimper, he breached. The warmth of the muscle caressing your own made your knees wobble. Hard, rippling abdominals pressed flush against your chest, pinning you softly beneath Keats and Wordsworth while his hands began to smooth over your shoulders, over your waist. You felt like the poets would approve. Steve moaned into your mouth as his palms slid possessively down your thighs, grunting as he whipped them forwards effortlessly around his waist. You yelped in surprise before his lips swallowed yours again, ankles crossing around taut hips. The heat from his skin warmed the scent of ginger wafting from the base of his collarbone, its spice firing in your nostrils. The kiss was hungry and desperate and wild. You could feel his solid cock rubbing against your stomach, tasting every inch of your passion as his fingertips dug into the soft flesh beneath your ass. He thrust softly with every wax and wane of his jaw, needy fingers running through his newly mussed golden hair. You pulled greedily before there was a soft clear of someone’s throat. It sounded like Loki. “Time,” Bucky barked, and reluctantly, Steve returned you to the ground. Still in a daze, and with palms spread against the bookcase, your eyes fell on the final figure. “Believe me…” Loki purred condescendingly, “you’ll wish to sit down for this.”

With shaking steps you teetered to the sofa, plonking down with a sharp intake of breath. Loki glided towards you, elegantly manoeuvring his long limbs aside your own. He brought a finger beneath your chin, tilting your head back. “You are so beautiful.” he murmured, before pressing in to a firm, chaste kiss. One of your hands flew to his thigh, running your palm over the hard, forbidden mass concealed tight and thick beneath the cotton. You desperately keened into him, tongue searching against closed lips. Loki withdrew with a chuckle, sweeping the hair from one side of his head. “If you wish me to stop, tell me,” he whispered hot in your ear, a wave of amber and spices and decadence filling your senses before he slipped from the sofa to his knees. Your eyes widened as he gently spread your legs. “The rules did not specify where I could kiss you.” he explained softly, pre-empting the questioning thrill lighting your eyes. Disgruntled huffs from Bucky and Rogers barely registered as you felt a cool tingle of the god’s magic dissolve your favourite underwear.

Loki’s smouldering gaze latched to yours, lust-drunk and determined, before it fell to the glistening mess at his eye level. “Do you consent to my audition?” he hummed, tentatively pushing the sides of your dress to the tops of your thighs. Your stare flickered to Steve and Bucky, suspiciously observing Loki on his knees with pure jealousy. "Yes," you heard yourself murmur under your breath. Fresh arousal was seeping from your centre, spreading down your heated skin. You had never wanted anything more. "Louder, please," Loki smirked, the curve of his fingers fastened to your knees. “Yes, Loki...g-god-” you gasped, brow furrowing as you urged him on with a tilt.

Immediately, his tongue licked a wide, earth-shattering stripe up your slit from base to tip. Your head fell back with a rattling moan, one hand combing through his hair as the other gripped the armrest. Loki quickly moved your legs over his shoulders, sliding you further back. The god’s open mouth latched to your swollen clit, sucking and lapping lower with sinful precision. All you could see was his dark curls and proud brow, the sight of the god buried between your open thighs making reality blur. Every caress made your hips thrust further into his mouth, shaking breaths shuddering your body as he moaned against your wet heat. The noises he made were utter devastation, muffled pants and enthusiastic slurps sounding between your splayed legs as he ate you out like a starving man. Behind your eyelids, you could feel the covetous gazes of the two soldiers rolling over your body as Laufeyson’s fingertips dug into your calves like a hunter. “T-time,” Steve choked. “No!” you gasped, pawing at Loki’s cheek in despair. The god smiled, chin glistening while closing your trembling knees in a move that could only be described as gentlemanly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, unfurling and retreating backwards to the line-up with his arms spread in a show of feigned innocence. You panted, gathering your thoughts as your gaze landed on each of them in turn. “Lady’s choice,” Bucky re-iterated gruffly, widening his legs. Beside him, the captain’s fingers rested wide on his hips, biting his lip while his eyes lingered on the fresh sheen of sweat clinging to your legs. Loki raised a finger absent-mindedly to the corner of his mouth, brushing the edge before sucking it clean to the second knuckle. His eyes smouldered, fixed on you, the flicker of firelight casting deep shadows in hollowed cheekbones. You took a deep breath, the only name it was ever going to be dancing on the tip of your tongue.

🤷‍♂️ For those who want a bit...more - A Gentlemen's Bond is the follow up to this.

Tags @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loveroflokiforpoeticjustice @coldnique @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @vbecker10 @imalovernotahater @thomase1 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @maple-seed @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @peaches1958 @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @psychospore @littlespaceyelf

[pandorasfavorite]

Maneater Part 2

You could only assume Dominik's match went well, considering he ran out of the ring with a huge grin. Your match was 5 minutes after him and you are anxious to just get out there and get it over with. You've never wanted to leave work more than you did today. While Dominik was in his match you had time to reflect on what happened just moments before, you were letting your guard down and letting him get close to you. Much too soon for your liking. You need to pull away from him, it's all just tension and the equal desire to fuck. Nothing more, you wouldn’t let him make you feel anything else.

Dominik came inside and his hair whipped side to side, then finally his eyes landed on you. His smile only got wider, and his pearly white teeth were obnoxious. He starts walking towards you, you don't smile back; instead, you look the other way. In your head, you are chanting to yourself to remember your morals.

"Hey", Dominik stands in front of you, swerving his head to meet your eyes. You huff as if you're annoyed, turning your glaring eyes to meet his. His smile fades a bit at your expression and you can't control the twinge of sadness at causing it. You raise your eyebrow at him. He rubs the back of his neck nervously, "Uh, you excited?". God, you loved making him squirm. You couldn't be rude to him, your personality craved attention and making men work hard.

"To talk to you? Or my match"

His smile comes back in a millisecond, "Me".

"Depends how much money do you have?", you run your fingers through your hair leaning forward, Dominik could see your complete figure. Not that you cared, you wanted it that way, you wanted to make him work hard. You see the way he swallows and the way he couldn't stop himself from looking you up and down. No man can control themselves anymore. He takes a step closer to you; confident; "As much as you need Hermosa". He's too confident, he needs to take a step back. You make the rules.

You push Dominik back by one of his shoulders, and he watches your hand move forward. "How much I want, you mean", you dare him to challenge you. Dominik opens his mouth to talk but he gets interrupted, he may have to get used to that. Your music blasted and you sidestep around him, walking out on the walkway. While you are walking to the ring to meet your opponent, Dominik is running backstage to watch your match.

At your match; right off the bat, the girl wants to start running her mouth about how you act. You don't pay attention to that nonsense, but when you speak, it's only the truth. "You either want to be with me or be me. Isn't that right?".

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

The next day you had another match, not that you weren't expecting any less. Hours before your match you spend time training in the empty ring, no one bothered you for good reason. Lately the Judgement Day couldn't leave you alone. You heard the door open and close and part of you was expecting Dominik to come out and beg you to join the Judgement Day again like he has before. Though this time it was both Damian and Dominik. You could feel the anger of being bothered by two guys itching at you. They both walked up with those 'intimidating' faces or so they say.

They are a few steps away and you whip around putting a hand out in front of them. "I'm not doing this shit today. Leave", you cross your arms and sneer at the pair. Damian's face drops into a deep frown, and Dominik is biting his lip subconsciously. They don't say anything, instead opting to stare you in the face like a couple of idiots. You shake your head at them, a rude look on your face to say the least. "Look, what do we have to do to get you to join?", Damian says at the jump with his profound voice. You snort; laughing in their face.

You clasp a hand over your mouth, attempting to gain your composure, but the way they are so adamant about having you is remarkable. "Yall can't be serious", you put a hand on your hip and you are smiling completely. Dominik's eyes widen and his face shares the same smile. Dominik is bursting at the seams with joy, so much so he taps Damian and points at you. Your smile drops in an instant; assuming the worst; that Dominik Mysterio was trying to make fun of you.

You take a step towards Dominik. "What the fuck is funny Mysterio?".

You notice his body tensing and his hands flexing, "Nothing, you were smiling I just thought it was cute".

...

...

Damain sighs deeply; about to smack Dominik. "Cute man really?", Damian turns to Dominik. Dominik shrugs expasterated. You feel yourself about to smile again just from the interaction. You nod to yourself. You walk towards Dominik and grab him by the upper arm, and God the muscle firm in your hand. You dragged him with you, and he followed along tripping over his own feet. He was tripping so much that you had to stop and grab him by the collar instead. You pulled him behind a wall to where Damian couldn't see. He shouldn't see this.

You push Dominik against the wall and he tries to get up off of him. You lay your hand flat against his chest pushing him against the wall and keeping him there. You may be in control but Dominik is still taller than you, and the way he was looking down at you with those deep eyes almost made you want to kiss him. You shake your head at those thoughts. You make that intense eye contact with him that you long for, "You need me to join the Judgement Day right?".

"Yes", he says a millisecond after.

I wanna see you all on your knees, knees.

"Get on your knees and beg".

There are many things Dominik could do. He could laugh in your face which wouldn't work out well for him. He could walk away. Or he could sink to his knees and beg for you to join the Judgement Day.

Dominik's gazes never flattered, he kept eye contact as he sunk to his knees, his hands grasping your waist to keep his upright. "I'm begging you, please" his voice turned light and nearly trembling. Was he getting off on this? "Please, please join. You won't regret it, you will have everything", Dominik's hair fans in front of his face.

Maybe the Judgement Day wouldn't be that bad. After all, Dominik doesn't mind giving in to your every command. In fact, he wanted it. "Stand up", he stands up without hesitation. "Let's go"

[just-a-fragment]

It's jung heewon's birthday and gosh her character arc still hits hard even after finishing the novel for almost a year now.

She was a "nameless background character" and when she was introduced it's implied she was a victim of one of the most cruel crimes someone can commit to another person(and yet its something that happens to most women).

In this scene, KDJ's commentary states that its a "cliche" or not an unexpected development that happens to "nameless" characters whenever a story has societal collapse. So it's very refreshing that not only did she turn out to be such an important character, but when she gained one of the more powerful attack skills, she was able to enact her vengeance and carry this righteous catharsis throughout the novel. But it doesn't stop there!

The skill actually contains a caveat. She wasn't the one who decided which "evil" is deserving of being killed. She has to constantly answer to a system that has to unanimously "vote" if the skill should be used or not. So while she's extremely powerful, there were times where she wasn't able to defend herself just because the system of good decided that her enemy wasn't worthy of punishment.

Except who are these constellations to decide if someone was worthy or not, especially when, aside from delighting in these spectacles, they weren't the ones affected by such grievances. She has seen how the so-called "good" abandoned her and her companions in vital times, that's why it was so satisfying when she finally gained full autonomy to enact her own judgement. She saw that the system doesn't actually adhere to morality but to an audience, to authorities who never cared for their own well-being in the first place. The best part about this arc is not just how her skill evolved from adhering to a shaky yet rigid parameter to the intrinsic desire to protect the ones you love but how it doesn't abhor the way she handled her trauma! It was never implied that the rage she felt was cruel/any less.

Her story arc is such a kind fate that most authors rarely consider for characters who suffered the same as her. It's established early on that aside from being one of the most powerful characters, she's also funny! she's very caring to the kids, she mentors jihye, she's very loyal to kimcom. She has one of the more consistent moral codes in the novel, she's justice personified. It's what makes her character arc so satisfying, her trauma never retracted any of this, because that's always been who she is.

Her character arc could've just been dissecting her trauma around men, but it's also how it's incredibly hard to maintain your sense of justice/sense of self under an oppressive system. How even the most capable people are held back.

She's not reduced to some brooding/tsundere combat side character, who not only overly relies on the male mc but experiences more trauma to further male mc / other male character developments, which unfortunately happens to characters that have the same fate as her.

Like she's incredibly loyal to dokja but she questions his decisions, she doesn't praise him as a god that goes through with all of his plans just because he saved her, Because she doesn't owe him anything and both of them know this! By the end of the novel she was the one who felt remorse, but her loyalty is still there.

Same thing can be said with Hyunsung who was consistently willing to be a tool for her catharsis, for her righteous anger, and this might be a controversial opinion, but I actually kinda liked that they broke up! In the brief/rare times we get their perspective, yeah we can see that they actually do care/love each other, we can't deny that their love story was born from the apocalypse. It was never confirmed but I wouldn't ignore the possibility that to some constellations, their relationship was a spectacle, people were supporting them, or egging them on(I mean we even see how HSY placed a bet on them)

It's a very refreshing or even realistic take to these kinds of storylines, yes Hyunsung helped her when she was broken, yes he helped her with her trauma, yes they loved each other. But the implication that Heewon, someone who was introduced as a person whose agency was taken from her, being able to decide that her "knight-in-shining armor" isn't her endgame, and being able to acknowledge that it isn't the right time, but the love existed, the love was still there(which is one of orv's main themes). Like that's such a powerful and important message!

I also like how the side stories addresses the argument on whether or not she deserves the backstory she got like!!! SS already proved that she was written with so much care, so much interiority, so much agency, so much love. I wish I could write more(even though this post is already long lol) but I haven't read the side stories.

So yeah HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUNG HEEWON WOMAN OF ALL TIME.

[watsittoyah]

Prayers From A Sinner- Dick Grayson x Blk Fem Reader

Warnings-Sexual content, and adult content. Toxic behavior, enemies to lovers? Oral sex, slight rough sex, drug use, violent behavior.

I do want to let everyone know that this story will have dark themes. It’ll be erratic at times and the main characters morals will be tested. There will be foul language and lots of descriptions of acts of violence and other uncomfortable subjects. If those themes aren’t for you, I won’t feel any way about it and you don’t have to continue. But for those who decides to stay and read, thank you, I’ll do my best making this story…interesting and entertaining.

Chapter 1 - Thou Shall Not Kill…

“Dear God, I know we haven’t spoken in ten years, but…I know you listen. Even to sinners like me. I know I won’t make it to those pearly gates but you please please save her. My mothers faith has never wavered, she always speak so highly of you. Just…don’t take away the one person who loves me.” You pray as you knees at the alter.

The sentiments were soon gone when you felt a shadow beside you. You open your eyes and turn to face him. “You shouldn’t be here.” The reverend says glaring at you. You kiss your fingertips and proceed to tell the good lord amen and then you look back at the Reverend.

“What? Can’t sinners come to church and pray too?” You ask in an innocent tone. “You know God won’t be listening to your prayers, you little demon.” He hisses at you which only gets a rise out of you. You rise from off of your knees and lean in.

“Tell me, reverend…do you still get those urges?” His glaring shakes a bit as he knows what you’re asking. “You need to leave, now Miss Price.” He tells you ignoring your question. “Oh but Rev, I was just asking do you still get those urges? Especially when you do communion? Do you get a stiff one when you have the men open their mouths when they eat that cracker?”

“I said get out!” He snaps causing you to laugh in his face. You wipe the tear from your eye and pat his arm. “Don’t worry, Reverend Jones. I was only teasing. But if you ever want to settle those urges you know where to come. I got the best boys that’ll satisfy you better than the misses. Just remember I won’t tell if you don’t.” You wink at him and motion for your three body guards to follow you outside of the church.

“Church people are so judgement.” You tell Nathan, your best guy. “That’s why I’m atheist.” You laugh and he helps you down the stairs while Marc gets the truck ready and Jake holds your umbrella.

You stop mid step and sigh. “Hold on, boys. I’ve got company.” You turn and right in the shadows you see him. “I’ll be back.” You pluck the umbrella from Marc and continue down the steps.

“But Miss Price-” You turn to Nathan and give him a look that makes him back down. “I’ll be fine, now don’t hover you know I hate when you do that.” You walk away from him and you walk down the alleyway, and stand in the slight moon light.

“You know you’re not your daddy, Richie Rich. Come out so I can see you.” You say with a slight smirk on your lips. Dick Grayson had stepped out of the shadows but he wasn’t wearing his stupid getup.

No he was dressed differently. Hell he stood differently, and he was more filled out than the last time you saw him. But things change in six years. “What are you doing here, Victoria? I thought it was clear that you were never to come back here in Gotham.”

You cock your head to the side at him. Clearly his attitude hasn’t changed.

“That’s rude, normally when you greet an old friend you ask them how they’ve been and what they’ve been up to.”

“We’d have to be friends for me to ask that.” He steps up close to you and you smile. “Awe, Richie Rich that hurt my feelings. Now kiss my lips and make the pain go away.” You say as you lean in.

But he moves back from you and leans against the wall. “Why are you here?” He asks again. “I have business to take care of here, since you’re so concerned. Now where is Batman? Is he still around?” You ask looking past him.

Dick looks at you and you see the sadness in his masked face. “I heard about your mother. I’m sorry-” You raise your hand and stop him. “Don’t be sorry, people die all the time. It just happens to be my moms name on the reapers list.” You say in a cold tone.

“You know that I can talk to some people. See if she can get better treatment.” You laugh in his face. “What you don’t think I haven’t done that? You don’t think I haven’t tried to buy more time for her? I have thrown enough money at these so called doctors, and all they’ve told me was she has no time! She is dying! And I can’t do a fucking thing for her! You and I both know she doesn’t deserve this, she’s one of the good ones in this dump of a city. And I have to watch her leave me!”

Dick walks over to you and he hugs you as you feel your shoulders shake. “I’m here for you, you know that right, Victoria?” Dick makes you look at him and you give a nod. “I know. I just-I hate crying. God damnit.” You wipe the tears and Dick kisses your head.

“You…you can’t stay here in Gotham. You have too many warrants and you’re a target.” You shake off his embrace and glare at him. “You think I give a fuck about that right now? You insensitive bastard!” You go to slap him but he catches your wrist and he sighs.

“Don’t take your anger out on me. I know you’re hurt. I know you want to lash out just to make yourself feel better. But I just want you to be safe. You know I care about you.” He tells you as you oddly become calm.

“If you want me to feel better then, make me feel better. This suit looks good on you. Makes your shoulders look more broad. And you smell good. I bet you still taste good.” You start to press up against him and you cup the front of him making him flustered a bit. “Victoria, I can’t. We can’t.”

“Are you scared of me, Dick? I promise I’ll be a good girl for you. I won’t leave bruises like last time. I’ll even let you leave some down my throat.” You press him against the wall and as you go to kiss him he stops you and he holds you still.

“No, I said no and I mean that.” Your eyes get low and you step off. “Fine, I won’t press my luck. I apologize.” You say in a monotoned voice. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you if you want to talk. Maybe we can-” You turn on your heel ignoring him and you feel him follow you. As he reaches out to you, you snatch your arm back and point to the siren noises.

“Superman ain’t here so get to it Robin.” You spit at him as you walk towards your truck. You don’t even look back as you step inside. You just toss the umbrella and glare out the window.

“Marc, take me to Spades. Miss Molly is getting a bit dull and I want to show her off.” You tell him as Nathan and Jake both sit quietly. “Sure thing boss.”

••••

“Watch the doors fellas.” You tell Marc and Nathan as you step into the strip club. You see ass and bare breasts all around. You see a great amount of men, all salivating at the women dancing for them and you yawn. You take off your fur and Jake takes it for you while you walk towards the vip section. You feel eyes on you and but no one catches your attention like he does.

There was something about Dick Grayson that made you get into this mood. You never let your emotions go like this, you were a pro at bottling them up, but old Richie Rich just knew how to break that bottle and make you pour.

You knew he could bring out the best side of you, he could help you with your attitude and you’d be an upright citizen. But why would you want that? You’ve left far too many dead bodies in your wake. And you didn’t want to scrape for pennies ever again.

You’ve made a name for yourself and you liked the fear it invoked in others.

So that is why you needed a distraction, you didn’t want to think about him anymore. So you eyed the male dancers. One had a very large bulge as he moved his hips to the slow yet low base beat song. You two made eye contact and you take a crisp one hundred dollar bill out.

“You’re cute, what’s your name?” He gets on his knees and he crawls over to you. “Nicholas, but you can call me yours, pretty lady.” He accepts the money from you and you smile, looking at his pretty tan skin and his pretty white teeth.

“I think I’ll keep you. You wanna come home with me, Nicky?” His deep brown eyes seems to look a bit panicked and you gently place your well manicured nail under his chin. “Don’t be scared. Trust me, I’m all bark.” You flirt as you stare into his eyes.

His pupils dilate which causes you to smirk. But suddenly you feel someone behind you. “Now this looks like a party.” You smell cheap scotch and you turn, seeing Jake grab the strangers shoulder but you shake your head and he backs off.

“Nicky, go get us a room and wait there for me.” You pass him another one hundred and he gladly takes it and nods. “I’ll be waiting pretty lady.” He leaves off the stage and walks away, you look at his ass and you sigh.

“Come on, baby can’t I watch?” The cheap scotch drinker asks. With a swift move you take out your rose gold beretta that was secured to your thigh under your dress. You placed it under his chin and as soon as he heard the click, he sobered up quite quickly.

“Wa-” You shake your head at him. “I thought you said you wanted to watch? Well I don’t think you’ll want to watch that pretty boy eat my pussy out. I bet you’ll want to watch some girl on girl action? Well let me introduce you to miss Molly. Ain’t she pretty? She packs a mighty blow and I’m sure you’d want to watch that right?”

“N…no. Please don’t kill me.” You raise a brow at him. “I’m really a nice lady, now if I recall I asked you a question. Answer it. Isn’t Molly pretty?” The man stutters out a yes and you smile.

You pat his cheek and rub the barrel against his lips. “I think, everyone should meet Miss Molly. Now stand there and be quiet while I introduce her.” You move the gun from his lips and you shoot three shots in the air, scaring the hell out of all the patrons in the club.

The music comes to a holt and you blow the smoke from your gun. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, I want to introduce my little friend named Molly, and I wanted to reintroduce myself. I am Vic Price. You may have heard of me, and if not then let me remind you who I am. First things first, I am not someone to fuck with. Okay? I will shoot you and then go out for ice cream because I feel like it. Secondly, I know a lot of you in here are my enemies main men, let your bosses know I don’t give a fuck about the targets. I’m out for blood and I’m ready to spill it. And lastly, does anyone know this guy?” You point to the scotch drinker and just about everyone in the place shakes their heads.

“Good, this is a lot easier for me.” Without hesitation you shoot the man in his face and his blood as well as brain matter splatters against the stage. You step up closer to his fallen body and you shoot him in his mouth as well. A few girls scream and a few people scramble to the door but they stop as they see Nathan and Marc.

“Here you go boss.” Jake hands you a handkerchief and you wipe your gun clean and place it back on your person. “Jake you’re the best, and because you are the best please explain to the lovely folks in the room, why I shot that man in his face and his jaw.”

“Miss Price here shot that sack of shit in the face, because she doesn’t want him to be recognized by the Gotham police. And she also shot him in his jaw just so he can’t be identified by his dental records. Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Price simply shot him because she was in the middle of a conversation with someone. I don’t know about you lot but I wouldn’t want to fuck with this lady.”

You clap as you laugh. “I love this guy! Now where is the owner of this fine establishment?” You scan the room and Jake points to the chubby man trying to run back stage. “Grab him.” You order.

He moves quickly and grabs the man. “Hey le…let me go!” Jake tosses him at your feet and the man looks up at you scared.

“I don’t want any problems. I respect your father and-” You bend down close to his ear and whisper something only he could hear.

“You know my old man? Please let him know his baby girl is back in town and she’s coming for what she’s owed. And if you don’t tell him, I will shoot your little pecker off and make you eat the rest. Do you understand?”

He nods quickly and you smile. “Good boy. You know what, I’m going to stay in Gotham for a while and I think I’m going to take this place off of your hands. You don’t mind right?”

“I can’t do that-” You stomp your stiletto down on his hand and he gives out a cry. “What was that?” You ask. “It’s yours! It’s yours Miss Price.” You remove your pointed heel and you look back at the crowd.

“Spades is under new management! Ladies and gentlemen all the tips tonight belongs to you. As for the rest of you that have came in to pay? Tip my people well, I’ll be making more change’s tomorrow! Jake, you make sure you keep these people from bothering me. I have a new pet to break in. Oh and one more thing, cut that cheap scotch drinking bastards hands off and drop them somewhere no one can find them.” He smiles wide and nods. “You got it boss.”

You walk down to the vip room and you lean against the door frame as you knock. Nicholas opens the door and he looks spooked. “Were those a gun shots?” He asks as he looks past you.

You place your hand on his toned chest and you move him back into the room. “Don’t worry about those loud noises, Nicky. I took care of that. Now come dance for me.” You say as you look into his brown eyes.

He gives a slight smile and he leads you to a chair. You sit down and he moves close to you and he places your hands on his abs, as well as his thighs.

“You wanna be my special friend, Nicky?” You ask as you move your hands from him and place them on the hem of your dress. “All depends…what are the benefits of being your special friend?” He asks as he eyes your body.

“You get access to me, you get spoiled. And I do love spoiling my friends. And most of all you get to have the best sex in your life. I’ll fuck you so good, you’ll see God and the devil at the same time. How’s that sound?” You ask as you raise your heel and he takes it, letting his soft hands rub down your calf. “That sounds amazing, but why me?” He asks as he unclasps your heel and he rubs your pretty black painted toes.

You let out a giggle. “Because I like that bulge you have in those skimpy little shorts, and because your eyes remind me of someone. They look…kind.” Nicholas smiles at that and he brings your foot to his lips.

“Can I?” He asks as he kisses the pads of your toes. “Go ahead, let me see you enjoy yourself Nicky.” He sucks your toes and he lets out a soft moan as he licks and suck’s your foot. You rest your head on your chin and you can visibly see he’s getting rock hard.

“That’s enough, Nicky.” You tell him. He gently places your foot down and you hike your dress up past your belly button. “I want to see what else you like sucking on.”

He kneels down and looks up at you. “I..I won’t get in trouble will I?” He asks as he looks down at your freshly waxed brown pussy. “Nah, the new manager here said she’ll let this slide. Come closer, I’m sure you’re hungry after dancing all night.” He leans in and as he grips your thighs he freezes and moves his hand back.

That movement makes you giggle. “Awe, what’s the matter? You don’t like guns?” You ask as you pat Molly. “I..um, I don’t have great experiences with them.”

You cup his chin and move in close as if you’re about to kiss him but you stop. “Well I won’t ever raise Molly to you as long as you don’t make me upset, if you do oh you won’t like that. Now Molly is staying right on my thigh. But you don’t need to be concerned about that. Just pay attention to what’s between my thighs. Now I have two things to tell you. After you give the correct answer we can have fun. Number one…I want you to know I have two main rules. One, you only get to fuck me. If you fuck someone else I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again. And two, I want you to treat me like I am your god. When I enter your presence, worship me. When I walk past you, hunger for me to come to you. Do you understand?” He nods but you grip his chin. “Answer me.”

“Y…yes pretty lady.” You let go and you place your hand on top of his head and move his face between your legs. “Now answer this for me as well. Do you have full understanding on how to eat pussy?” You hear him inhale the scent of your sex and he lets out a moan. “Yes, yes I do pretty lady.”

“Call me Vic, and I’m so happy to hear that. Now take that delicious looking clit of mine, move the hood back and lick it with just the tip of your tongue.” He does what he’s told and you lean your head back as you feel him lick circles around your clit.

“Such a good boy you are. You’re going to be my favorite. Now go ahead and suck.” You push his head deeper between your legs and you let out a soft moan as he sucks your clit hungrily.

Even though you know it’s Nicholas between your legs, your mind still wonders to Dick. In your mind he was the one licking you out and making you wet on the seat.

“It’s so good to be home…”

Next

[randomnumbers751650]

I finally have time to talk about Lone Trail. I will be focusing on its depiction of science, technology and its progress. Will get a bit political, but funnily enough less than I imagined.

The thing that called my attention most in Lone Trail were the discussions on the nature of scientific progress. This is a theme that’s dear to me and the stuff I research about. It’s easy to think of scientific progress like an inevitable march forward, like an escalator. After all, we are much richer than we were before, right? Go to OurWorldInData dot org to play around with economic statistics in time – make sure to check the World GDP chart, from year 0 to 2000 and see it taking off like a rocket from year 1700.

What kind of Uncle Ted fan or neoluddite would go against that? Haha…hah…

Truth is that, although its effects are there, it’s not a clear if this is the little, neat process techbros want us to believe. It’s new and produces more, therefore it’s good, right? I could be writing this as a new wave of AI-generated NFTs pollute my algorithm.

That’s what makes the storytelling in Arknights so effective: it mashes together fantasy and sci-fi to really tell stories on the role of beliefs, technology, science and religion. The Rhine Lab saga is definitely an exploration of technology, with focus on the equivalent of the United States. During the period before the First World War, 1870-1913 (which is the one that Arknights draws most from), the world underwent through the so-called Second Industrial Revolution and I’ve read economic historians considering it the most innovative period in human history. I mean, obviously, there is an absolute number of inventions in our current age, but in relative terms 1870-1913 experienced a much larger number relative to the previous one.

The escalator narrative constructs scientific achievements as work of daring people (mostly men, but there were women like Marie Cuire), that combined science and technology to help mankind, like Prometheus giving mankind fire from the gods (in fact, one of these books is even named “Prometheus Unbound”); more than often they have to fight against the establishment. Remember Ignaz von Semmelweis? He just wanted doctors to wash their hands. Even I learned this standard narrative in the university. But that’s not the entire story.

The positivistic paradigm – of a science free of value judgements, made with the power of math – has actually helped build this escalator narrative. In reality, some scientists and scholars are horrible people. Later, I learned that Semmelweis, as much as he campaigned for the right thing, was a very arrogant person, who abused everyone around him, to the point few people went to his funeral.

Narratives focusing on one single hero are easy to sell and the ones building them are always on the lookout. Remember how ten years ago, a lot of people tried to push the narrative Elon Musk was going to create a new industrial revolution? Nowadays he’s just an arrogant loser who keeps dragging on his midlife crisis. The 1880s also had similar people like that, such as Thomas Edison.

Kristen Wright is definitely better than them both, because she is actually an engineering genius. But she’s also just like them, in the sense of unethical experiments, collusion with the military-industrial complex and being an overall superficially charismatic, but rotten to the core person. And she’s surrounded by a lot of people like Parvis and Ferdinand.

Breaking this line of reason, I have to say how much I hate Nietzsche’s ubermensch and master-slave morality, I hate Great Men theory, I hate Ayn Rand; these people are sheep who think themselves wolves. And before you say that Nietzsche didn’t consider himself an ubermensch, well, neither did Parvis and his reasoning was the same. For every person fancying themselves ubermensch, there’s a lot of those whom he’d call untermensch to clean up their messes. You have no idea of how times I stumbled upon people (especially libertarians) that advocate lower barriers to regulations that were written in blood, so that progress can happen quicker. Creative destruction works, as long as some people get “creative” and others clean the “destruction”. Deaths and injuries? Acceptable, just give them a pension (but fight tooth and nail in the court to not do it beyond the barest of the bare minimum, because it’ll lower the shareholder profit in 0.01%). Increase in inequality? Nobody will care in a few years, it’ll make everything cheaper anyway (look up Baumol’s cost disease to see how wrong that statement is, without being incorrect). I’m not exaggerating, sometimes the people saying that don’t even bother lacing it in politically correct language.

Because Lone Trail showed it “worked” – Kristen Wright broke off the ceiling over Terra and that will have consequences (especially with Endfield coming closer). The data from her experiments will advance science, the sight of a broken ceiling will inspire artists and prompt politicians to act. Was it worth it? Well, it will depend on who you ask (like, Ifrit or Rosmontis would have strong feelings), but it’s just there now. Serious history isn’t kind on this question as well – many technologies have a lot of transgressions, both legal and ethical, in their supply chain (both the American and Soviet space program come to my mind – guess who helped them); the difference between an entrepreneur and a criminal are contextual, because both are finding new opportunities of profit and both interlock frequently.

In the end, anyone can put an equation that has its uses, not mattering if it’s a good person or not. But that is no excuse to find good ethical practices. Silence saw everything with her own eyes and I’m really glad she’s leading the initiative for a more ethical science in Columbia – especially because people who are willing to break moral rules tend also to be willing to break research rules (this is why the “research” made in concentration camps is actually useless, it didn’t respect experimental rules). So I’m really glad for the Arknights writers for understanding these nuances and communicating them to the audience through one of the best stories of the game.

[gemsofgreece]

What was women's position in the Byzantine Empire? I haven't searched that much, but it seems like her position wasn't any different from Ancient Greece, where they were expected to be modest, silent and it was generally preferable not to be heard (at least, women from aristocratic families).

Well you won’t find easily a medieval state which did not want women to be modest and quiet.

In spite of that, no that’s not true. The place of the woman in the society improved considerably in Byzantine times compared to the Classical era. As a sidenote, perhaps we should not generalize about Classical Greece either, especially when we apply the reality of Athens to all the Greek world without enough evidence that this is historically accurate, at a time when Athens was extremely obsessed with ¨male perfection¨.

Based on our view of things nowadays, it might seem counterintuitive, however Christianity played a huge role in this improvement. You see, the Bible through its scriptures and also the very example of Virgin Mary, whom the Byzantines (and later the Modern Greeks too) worshipped almost equally to Christ, as well as the church’s acknowledgement and veneration of women martyrs indiscriminately from men martyrs, made it clear that women were spiritually equally capable of achieving “théosis”, meaning resemble the image of God, in other words; sainthood. It was thus deemed important that women would be able to read and study the scriptures. As a result the Byzantine empire had the highest literacy rate of women in the Middle Ages.

Intercepting for those who might wonder: "But the Ancient Greek religion had gods and goddesses alike, so why wouldn't that improve the social status of women?". The answer is because in the Ancient Greek religion there was no concept of théosis, meaning any human's strive to achieve a moral perfection to resemble the image of God. The dynamics of gods and godesses were separate from those of the people, where women were left to be evaluated by and versus men alone.

Women were nowhere as confined as the women of classical Greece. Of course they should be good wives and mothers catering to their household first and foremost but they could participate in social events, festivals, go shopping, lather in the baths and have fun like men did. As wives, their status was also better, as according to Christianity all god-fearing men were supposed to be loyal to their wives and have no concubines. So, if a man really had no intention to be faithful at all, neither to his wife nor to the Christian teachings, he at least did it discreetly, and if he did not do even that, then he did not escape the judgement of the society. Divorce was hard for either spouse to ask, of course waaay more for women, but for example Justinian enforced an iconic law that if a couple wanted to take a divorce then BOTH spouses should go to monasteries and be celibate for life lol So you know, be cruel, but at least be indiscriminately cruel! 😂

Financially, dowries and inheritance remained a woman’s property after marriage unlike in classical times. If the husband died, it was the widow’s choice whether she would marry again or not and she was in charge of her children on her own whereas in classical times women had to marry their husband’s closest relative (to “protect” them and the property that had now passed on their own family). So, really no contest there. Women owned and ran businesses and signed contracts. They were employed in a wide range of professions.

As for the aristocrats, they had it much better than classical aristocrats. They did not work like lower class women, obviously, so they filled all that extra time by being pampered by their servants (female and male, sometimes eunuchs), who were usually exclusive to them. Depending on the lady’s interests, the servants would keep her entertained by playing music, reading to her, gossiping, grooming her etc Some women hired teachers to improve on their education on their own accord. Wives of important men were usually involved in political and diplomatic affairs and they were very interested in such matters. Educated women could be doctors (for women).

Nuns, who did not have the burden of taking care of the children and a husband, often became studious and pretty educated, with artistic concerns, like Kassiani. And to go back to the ask, there are accounts of Byzantine princesses being perceived in West Europe as “too talkative” and “too concerned with themselves”, so apparently Byzantium gave its aristocratic women a lot more liberty than, say, Classical Athens and also more than Western Europe did.

And then of course the Byzantine Empire was the only medieval state to have ever been reigned by four women on their own, and some of them were very consciously and ambitiously pursuing the throne. But even the empresses consorts, meaning the wives of the emperors, were also expected to be well acquainted with all the matters of the empire in case something happened to the emperor because they had to stand in his place temporarily or even serve as regents. From the 22 pages in Wikipedia about Byzantine regents, the 7 are about women, so one third, at least from the well known ones.

Women were also interested in their appearances and really took matters in their hands. Rich women would have special gardens cultivating flowers and spices to create their own perfumes. Michael Psellos writes about how Empress Zoe had essentially turned herself into a chemist, making the basements of the imperial palace a lab for perfumes and elixirs to maintain her youthful appearance.

And let’s end this with some quotes from Anna Komnene’s Alexiad (inspired by the Iliad she so loved), the chronicles of her father’s Emperor Alexius exploits in war.

12th-century manuscript of the Alexiad

The Alexiad is invaluable because it remains one of the richest sources of information historians possess about the military, social and imperial history of the Byzantine Empire.

Ah I had written before about that stuff and I meant to write something short this time but I just can’t do it when it’s about Byzantium my love adefefajdhhajhf

[johaerys-writes]

i’d be super curious to hear your thoughts of the characterisation of achilles in the iliad! because while he is considered honourable and respected by the standards of the culture, surely by modern day standards he wouldn’t be so much? which is why i think that MM did such a great job, because she basically modernised him so that we would see him in the same ways that the greeks did re: his nobility versus his arrogance, but i thought the general consensus on achilles is that he’s an ancient greek hero which equals Not A Good Guy by our standards (but my formal education in classics is limited, i mostly partake as a hobby, so i’m always looking to expand my understandings and opinions and you’re obviously a very intelligent and considered person)

So I think the most important thing anyone needs to do when engaging with ancient greek works (and indeed any sort of work, especially those created millennia ago) is to keep an open mind. Importing modern moral judgement is anachronistic when it comes to the Iliad; hubris, as we understand it now, simply does not exist in the Iliad, there are no Good Guys vs Bad Guys, there are no Heroes or Villains. Those notions came much later and are very much a Christian thing. A hero in the Homeric world has no moral implication; he is simply a warrior. A dude that does things, and not necessarily admirable things. So it would be pointless to try to view Achilles or Hector or Agamemnon (or even the gods in the Iliad who do some pretty fucked up shit) as good or bad guys, because such a thing is irrelevant in the Iliad.

That being said, I feel like Achilles is portrayed generally positively both in the Iliad and also in other ancient Greek works. He is noble, that is, he is of noble/divine lineage, he is well-spoken, well-educated, generally reasonable and polite with pretty much everyone, except for Agamemnon in that opening scene in the Iliad (who was a dick to him as well). He is also honourable and with a very rigid moral code: in the Iliad it is stated many times that he prefers to ransom back captives instead of kill them, and he even lets the body of one of the Trojans he slew be burned with his armour on as a sign of respect, even though it is a thing of great importance in the Iliad to claim the armour of the people one slew. He is not greedy and doesn't flaunt his wealth, he is generous with his Myrmidons and is generally rather well-liked. Until Patroclus is killed and he goes on his rampage, he is a pretty chill dude; and then after Hector is killed, he organises the funeral games for Patroclus where he is shown to be very diplomatic and reasonable, even with Agamemnon; and then when Priam goes to ask him for Hector's body back, Achilles treats him with respect and the two men bond over their grief. So like, idk about you but those don't seem like the actions of someone crazed or extremely arrogant or bad, even by modern standards.

I think what is most telling about how a character like Achilles was perceived in the culture that created him, is that his portrayal in later ancient greek works, mainly the theatrical and philosophical works of around the 5th cent BC, is generally positive. Some playwrights depicted him as a bit of a hothead or a little boisterous and full of himself, but that isn't really framed as a bad thing. Achilles in those works is a famous and powerful hero who knows how good he is and how much the army needs him, but he isn't needlessly flashy, he always keeps his word, he is brave and heroic even by modern standards: in Euripides' Iphigenia at Aulis, Achilles goes to great lengths to protect Clytemnestra and Iphigenia from the mob, and it is pointed out many times how averse he is to trickery and lies and that Chiron brought him up to be honourable, steadfast, to keep true to his values and to stay away from wickedness (which is what Agamemnon did, essentially). So I think it's really clear that for the ancient Greeks Achilles has many admirable traits.

You mentioned MM and how she modernised Achilles and made him sympathetic to a modern reader's eyes, and I simply don't think that's true. I think MM's portrayal of Achilles is pretty close both to the Iliad and how other ancient Greeks imagined him; perhaps the only way she differs is by portraying him a bit calmer in places lol. She simply took away all those layers of nonsense that had been piled on top of him through centuries of literary criticism that took all the later Roman works that depicted him as a sadistic monster a little too seriously or only focused on how awful he was compared to Noble Hector (no hate on Hector but those classicists really need to find a new blorbo *smh*)

I also think that maybe MM went a little too hard on the arrogance thing and on his obsession with glory without explaining it enough, but that's just my personal opinion. Achilles is very concerned with his glory in the Iliad as well, but we have to keep in mind his position here: Achilles gave up everything for that glory. He knew about the prophecy and knew that he would die in Troy, and made the choice to fight in the war because glory is just that important within the context of the Iliad. I think that many of the heroes we see in the Iliad would have chosen the same, if given a dilemma like that. So Achilles gave up the life he could have had, his kingdom, his family, just for his name to live on through the ages, and then Agamemnon royally fucked that up by disrespecting and insulting him publicly in the vilest of ways. Achilles then made up his mind to abstain from the war and to go back to Phthia and thus giving up his claim to glory because he was so over the war, and he probably would have done that had Patroclus not died. And then there was nothing else for him to do other than to die as well. So like.... idk. His actions make sense to me. He is a passionate character who is swept away by his emotions, he has flaws, he isn't perfect (if such a thing even exists) but I think he's all the more compelling for it.

I hope this answered your question, anon! Thank you for giving me the chance to ramble about my favourite fictional man <3

[calfrxca]

[JUDGEMENT]

no way, cal returns from his art hiatus to post gay people and returns from hiatus for good :00 ??? no- im. im still on hiatus, my escapades to vatican city and specifically st peter's basillica last month just caused some brainworms LMFAO, i have. way too much to say about this specific piece and how my reading of the illiad and the war that killed achilles made it so much stronger

also before you ask, yes this is based on michelangelo's pietà in the vatican, dont even TRY to @ me

my yappings aside

ordo (the guy with the fuckass pipe in his chest) belongs to @gemsbokk !!!

meanings and yappings regarding this piece below the cut as usual, i dont expect anyone to read this, i just need to get this out or i'll actually EXPLODE

(upright) improvement, forgiveness, change of perspectives, absolution and rebirth

(reversed) oppression, lack of self awareness, failure, repeated mistakes, and self loathing

generally, in roman mythos as a whole, there's this whole idea that cannibalism, incest, murder, whatever, doesnt apply to the olympians because of their status as "The Divine" and any mortal who tries to do the same will be met with divine punishment from said olympians [many times, a mortal's fatal flaw is hubris, see achilles who believed he was immortal and a god because of how successful he was on the battlefield; icarus who flew too close to the sun and died, a literal modern day saying in the west for man's own hubris, etc] and if i remember correctly, some renditions of the illiad depict the myceaneans as cannibals. the war that killed achilles specifically writes:

"In the apocryphal Acts of Andres (dating to the 3rd century A.D.), there is 'a city of the cannibals,' which is identified as Myrmidon; it is possible that this account taps into some more ancient, and savage, lost tradition."

and my recent escapades to the roman colosseum revealed that the romans regularly consumed blood because they believed it had health benefits to it and they thought it cured epilepsy [paper written by the NBCI on this topic]; is there any historical basis proving that the consumption of blood actually had health benefits? no clue, nor do i really feel like checking these exact logistics at the moment (but if anyone does, feel free to @ me about it, i love weird historical shit like this), the actual effects behind it are moot, what's relevant here is the idea

the idea of consumption and cannibalism turning one into a god have the same effects as how, in greek mythos, the gods were often depicted engaging in acts such as incest, cannibalism, whatever, acts that we as mortals define as "immoral" and "unjust," not only just to seperate them from humans but also show that morals are a very fickle, human thing

anyways, my point here is there's something so raw about tacet losing it to the point he's not even just eating mechanical parts, but he's also eating organic parts, see: organic hearts, guts, kidneys, the like

"No matter how many men you eat boy, you will not be a god."

i mean tacet himself masks his desperation for touch and sensuality with literal blood and guts, which then creates a feedback loop of violence and death, which is a reoccurring theme in greek tragedies; specifically observed and mentioned in emily wilson's translation of the illiad:

"When a man is slain in times of peace, families can gain partial compensation for their loss by exacting a blood-price from the killer. Killers may also be forced to leave the community and take refuge elsewhere, as Patroclus did as a boy after he accidentally killed another boy in an argument over a game; he was adopted by his cousin Peleus and raised beside Achilles, like an older brother. In such cases, the killer's loss of his original home comforts the family in their need for vengeance. But in war, killers recognize no binding obligation to compensate the families of their victims. The only way the bereaved can recoup their losses is to kill the killer—whose comrades will demand vengeance in their turn. Killing begets killing, death begets death, and every loss of life generates further loss of life."

another instance is observed in the emily wilson translation here:

"When it is too late to save a warrior's life, friends and kinsmen may be able at least to save his weapons and his armor. If those have been stripped, the companions of the dead man may at least save his body."

there's a certain trope found in media, especially queer media where cannibalism and consumption are a common metaphor for love (see hannibal and interview with a vampire), and considering their dynamic was written in the midst of a hannibal brainrot im not exactly surprised there's a lot of similarities here

namely, tacet was a cannibalism from the start, starting drinking energon just as a more cost and time efficient way to staying fueled, but it turned into an addiction and eventually was lauded as something holy (there's something to be said here about the christian idea of wine and crackers being symbols of christ's blood and body; communion, the eucharist, whatever); i cant remember if this was canon or not so don't quote me on this

but at some point, tacet convinced ordo to try cannibalism as well, just to "see what would happen," went well enough until ordo got the fuckass pipe in his chest; something something play on the idea of cannibalism is only reserved for the divine; ordo died and tacet lost ordo

queer tragedy is very much a phenomenon found in greek and roman mythos, and well. this feels like it fits

alright im done yapping for now, my head hurts now, thanks for listening to my ted talk

here's some pics from rome and venice as a thanks LMFAO

i'll add image IDs to these once my headache goes away I PROMISE

[aliciavance4228]

Remember when the line "You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain." was quite popular on the Internet?

While dying cannot be applied in this case unless it'a metaphorically, I consider this quote to fit Cronus quite perfectly. He went from being one of Ouranos' children who was thrown into Tartarus along with his sibling, freed them and then castrated his father (which seems like a typical hero scenario) to becoming both an asshole to the Cyclops and Hecatoncheires, an abuser to his own wife -Ovid writes in Fasti that: "Rhea often complained of much pregnancy and no motherhood, and mourned her fertility."- and a true villain to his kids. Nowdays he is considered one of the best examples of what it means to become your own antithesis, due to the fact that he ended up being just as bad, if not then even worse than his father.

However, while dude clearly didn't deserve the Parent of the Year award, it should be also emphasized the fact that he ruled during what was called the Golden Age of humanity, and it's heavily implied the fact that mortals had it better back then:

Hesiod, Works and Days 109 ff (trans. Evelyn-White) (Greek epic C8th or C7th B.C.) : "First of all the deathless gods who dwell on Olympos (Olympus) made a Golden Race of mortal men who lived in the time of Kronos (Cronus) when he was reigning in heaven. And they lived like gods without sorrow of heart, remote and free from toil and grief: miserable age rested not on them; but with legs and arms never failing they made merry with feasting beyond the reach of all evils. When they died, it was as though they were overcome with sleep, and they had all good things; for the fruitful earth unforced bare them fruit abundantly and without stint. They dwelt in ease and peace upon their lands with many good things, rich in flocks and loved by the blessed gods. But after earth had covered this generation--they are called Pure Spirits (daimones hagnoi) dwelling on the earth (epikhthonioi), and are kindly, delivering from harm, and guardians of mortal men; for they roam everywhere over the earth, clothed in mist and keep watch on judgements and cruel deeds, givers of wealth [i.e. agricultural bounty]; for this royal right also they received."

I particularly like this passage written by Plato, since you can observe a sense of justice, morality and leadership skills that help us humanize Cronus, rather than portray him as a cartoonish villain:

Plato, Laws 713a (trans. Bury) :

Long ages before even cities existed . . . there existed in the time of Kronos, it is said, a most prosperous government and settlement . . . Well, then, tradition tells us how blissful was the life of men in that age, furnished with everything in abundance, and of spontaneous growth. And the cause thereof is said to have been this : Kronos (Cronus) was aware of the fact that no human being is capable of having irresponsible control of all human affairs without becoming filled with pride and injustice; so, pondering this fact, he then appointed as kings and rulers for our cities, not men, but beings of a race that was nobler and more divine, namely, Daimones (Spirits). He acted just as we now do in the case of sheep and herds of tame animals: we do not set oxen as rulers over oxen, or goats over goats, but we, who are of a nobler race, ourselves rule over them. In like manner the god, in his love for humanity, set over us at that time the nobler race of Daimones who, with much comfort to themselves and much to us, took charge of us and furnished peace and modesty and orderliness and justice without stint, and thus made the tribes of men free from feud and happy. And even today this tale has a truth to tell, namely, that wherever a State has a mortal, and no god, for ruler, there the people have no rest from ills and toils; and it deems that we ought by every means to imitate the life of the age of Kronos, as tradition paints it." [Cf. The Daimones of Hesiod's Works and Days above.]

I also wanted to mention the fact that (at least according to Hesiod) Cronus eventually ended up becoming the Ruler of Elysium, but I decided not to develop this idea too much, nor give the fragment for it. Not because I consider it to be insignificant or because I'm lazy, but purely because I cannot help but think of the other Kronides' reaction when their youngest brother, the one who rescued them, not only that freed the exact same man who ate them and made them suffer throughout all those years, but also allowed him to be king to some extent.

It's kinda dissapointing that we never get see this side of him presented more often, along with the fact that he's probably one of the most demonized, villainized and caricaturized deities in the Media, to the point where he is a generic Big Bad type of guy.

Cronus has a lot of potential as a character due to his evolution, depth, complexity. The fact that many people don't see that in him is quite deplorable, especially considering that the Titanomachy is a relatively common subject among Greek Mythology Enthusiasts, and an ecranisation of it would be welcomed by everyone.

[planetary-pluto]

is my car gay?

tumblr. now more than ever, i need to settle a debate. i am a lesbian. a sapphic. a woman (ish) who loves people who are not men. i inherited a 2005 buick allure (example bellow the cut). there is a debate between myself and my father if this is a Lesbian Car:tm:. i firmly believe it is. that car sleeps with women. people in my life are in disagreement. help.

i trust your judgement, people of the internet.

[miirshroom]

Meet the New Boss Same as the Old Boss

Saw this comment on Reddit:

Having a bit of a sleep deprived day, which has the side effect that random pieces of conversation will remind me of musical lyrics that I haven't thought about in years. It's clear to me what Radahn's theme is: meet the new Elden Lord, same as the old Elden Lord. As presented in the DLC, the god Miquella's reign of "compassion" is a farce - you can't build a compassionate future on a foundation of violence. The measures that need to be taken are such that if you don't eradicate your enemy they will only become more radicalized. And if you do carve a bloody path and eradicate the enemy rather than just subject them to slow torment, then keeping your own people united and under control requires the creation of a new enemy - it never stops. History shows us how hard it is to stop being at war once a country starts it.

Radahn represents more than one kind of stagnation. In the Lands Between it is the stagnation of arresting forward progress. In the Shadow Lands it is the stagnation of wrenching a wheel up out of its track to watch it spin in place - repeating cycles of the past. Take it as extremely literal that Radahn is emulating Godfrey - he is repeating the same story again.

Rather than inflict the rest of my thought process on some random Redditor, I'm just going to post it here: "Won't get Fooled Again" by the Who.

We'll be fighting in the streets With our children at our feet And the morals that they worship will be gone And the men who spurred us on Sit in judgement of all wrong They decide and the shotgun sings the song I'll tip my hat to the new Constitution Take a bow for the new revolution Smile and grin at the change all around Pick up my guitar and play Just like yesterday Then I'll get on my knees and pray We don't get fooled again A change, it had to come We knew it all along We were liberated from the fold, that's all And the world looks just the same And history ain't changed 'Cause the banners, they all flown in the last war I'll tip my hat to the new Constitution Take a bow for the new revolution Smile and grin at the change all around Pick up my guitar and play Just like yesterday Then I'll get on my knees and pray We don't get fooled again, no, no I'll move myself and my family aside If we happen to be left half-alive I'll get all my papers and smile at the sky For I know that the hypnotized never lie Do you? Yeah There's nothing in the street Looks any different to me And the slogans are effaced, by-the-bye And the parting on the left Is now parting on the right And the beards have all grown longer overnight I'll tip my hat to the new Constitution Take a bow for the new revolution Smile and grin at the change all around Pick up my guitar and play Just like yesterday Then I'll get on my knees and pray We don't get fooled again Don't get fooled again, no, no Yeah Meet the new boss Same as the old boss

I've decided recently to lean into the concept that Elden Ring is intentionally structured as a crime scene investigation story, so the cherry on top here is that "Won't Get Fooled Again" was the theme song for the police procedural drama CSI: Miami in the 2000's. And while I was mostly into CSI: Crime Scene Investigations back in the day I did remember that the lead detective of CSI: Miami is named "Horatio Caine". As in the friend listening to the monologue that Hamlet delivers in a cemetery (where a pair of clowns have been exhuming the dead in the process of digging a new grave plot):

Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen? Now get you to my lady’s chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her laugh at that.

[batskulldrag]

Here it is, some out of context sentances from my first published TF2 fanfic.

Christmas (or Smismas) time had descended on the town of Toufort, New Mexico, bringing with it colored lights, decorated store fronts, Yuletide carols and of course the seemingly endless sounds of celebratory gun fire from the Team Fortress base.

“What the hell is wrong with you Bushman?” Spy snapped, forcing himself free. “God, you smell.”

“Heavy is in the kitchen with Sniper and Scout.” Soldier answered. “And I’m sure that if you go in there, Sniper will throw something at you. Because I tried to go in there and he threw a spatula at me.”

Scout went outside and found Sniper lying face down in the snow. After poking him to make sure he was still alive, Scout told him to go back inside. Sniper replied that he’d be back once he pulled himself together.

“I didn’t hear ya complaining when I used jarate to put you out when the Blu pyro spotted you.” Sniper scoffed.

“Didn’t you?” Spy questioned. “Because I complained. I begged the pyro to set me back on fire.”

“I’ll repeat mysel, did it not occur to ye to just be good?” Demo gestured at him.

“Old Nick is a sweat shop owner who casts moral judgement on children.” Sniper said seriously. “I have no idea what his standards were. And I wasn’t taking any chances.”

“Lad, do ye think that maybe ye should have talked it over wi us if ye wanted to blow up the world?” Demo asked cautiously.

“SOLDIER WILL KEEP CLOTHES ON!” Heavy roared as he mowed down enemies.

“I am taking my clothes off. Oorah.”

“That’s different, we’ve all seen Sniper naked.” Demo shrugged.

“Men, they say a coward dies a thousand deaths. And I am proud to cause one of those deaths with you.” Soldier added.

Scout and Demo both froze like they had been caught in a police search light. Scout snapped out of it and hugged Sniper. In response, Sniper tensed up and looked at Demo for help.

Medic turned bright red and started fanning himself.

“Heavy likes me?” He squeaked.

Here's the work

[yellowfingcr]

🔥 for Cayin!

come ask heysel what she likes about you // not accepting! [ @yeleltaan ]

“Cayin! Hello. Of course I can say what I like about you!” the hunter smiles, affable, sharp teeth in tall display. It rises so high it slits her eyes to moon-dark fissures. “To start with, you are a man of incomparable elegance. It wounds me to use such a common word to define the degree of ornament and lace you bear in your everything but I cannot find a more fitting word. The fine calligraphy of your features; the unblemished balance of your words. Acts of nobility each time. I am not someone who finds too much interest in finesse, usually, as I believe it too often comes affixed with a moral judgement- the unrefined are bad, the better refined good- yet it is tremendously hard not to appreciate what you do, in your case, because you make it such a natural, effortless thing. You’re not trying to convince people of your class. You simply possess it as the ground possesses gravity.”

The hunter moves closer. Without permission she extends her clawed hands, begins to fiddle with the man’s cravat, untying it then gently beginning to tie it again.

“And must we speak of words? Oh yes we must. Liquid velvet every time you talk. I am nothing but common, my friend. I will admit without weight that you have a splendid voice that I enjoy listening to, like everyone else.”

Her fingers keep moving. At one point, as she folds fabric, a hyphen of red darts open across the white of his skin. The mark of a single careless nail.

“Your style, too, of course. Nothing complicated in your outfit yet you shine thrice more than the most opulently dressed citizen. Perhaps this is an extension of all I’ve said about your elegance, though.”

She finishes tying, and it’s just a touch too tight around his neck, only enough to be uneasy, a soft grasp around his pulse, and so close he can see it, can’t he, in her eyes moon-dark- that she’s saying the truth but it’s all a trapdoor, and there is more beneath the surface of those sentences, and that more is pressing just at the latch; and see it in the invisible tremor in her fingers; see it in her sharp teeth in tall display. 

This is a woman poised to kill.

This is the truth under the trapdoor. He knows. He knows without doubt that she does carry the thought of hurting him. He knows- she hopes he does- that this is not a thing born of hate. Just of unbalance. Because she thinks with just a little more appreciation than pain: sweet Cayin, comet-blood. You did a terrible unjust thing to me. And for this terrible unjust thing you should pay. I should tear your throat open like cloth, unknot your trachea and devour your voice, the poison and the bittersweet honey of it, so that you may never take from me again. 

Cayin, angel-mouth. You are the devil. The formless above sends me no men to test me but the god of my youth does and I must have failed. You diminished me. I wish to hurt you. I wish to tilt the scales with your bones. 

And this is the truth, yes, warm and slick; but it’s not the whole of it. He has proffered kindness and if he has taken he has tried to give, too. And she doesn’t believe he relishes the situation, too. He might have diminished her but he hasn’t cut further. It counts for something. It upsets the math, dilutes the weight. Makes the trapdoor truth a thing she does carry but like a note, bent in a pocket. Something to papercut him at the throat with, just to watch blood bead, and nothing more.

Gods. Mercy. It's hard. She doesn't know what to do with all of this. She doesn't know where to place it. And still: this maybe she likes, somehow.

Her smile twitches at one corner, for a moment.

"My sincere apologies, by the way. I intended to fix your cravat but I'm afraid I forgot just how sharp my nails can be. I can offer bandages, if you like."

[dickwingary]

The faster you accept that comic book Charles Xavier is a creepy, manipulative, abuser - the easier life will be. Take it from someone who has been on that particular journey about six years ago.

You are a Dick fan, he had sex with newly disabled Barbara right before his wedding without disclosing this to her. Accepting / overlooking canon events is part of Fandom experience.

And if it involves an almost God level telepath who groomed five teenagers into soldiers, you will be doing a lot of excusing and hand waving. This is not a "Robins would have done it anyway" situation either. It was straight up grooming child soldiers and picking the autistic one to make the easily controlled and manipulated puppet-leader to live through because Xavier was stuck in a wheelchair.

People who tell you that Xavier isn't as bad as you think are just lying. He is worse.

Hi beloved mutual! Thank you for taking the time to type this out for me, I trust your judgement.

I fear I have gone in WAY over my head with this ‘Charles is evil in the comics’ curiosity. Like oh my god.

Having literally no context for most of what everyone has been discussing and purely going on Vibes hasn’t been the most effective way to actually understand the morality of Charles lmfao. (I literally confuse Jean and Rouge all the time and thought they were the same person for literal years. I’ve only seen FC and DoFP in the past 7ish years).

From what you say, comic Charles sounds fucking awful!! I kind of got that vibe with the child soldier army thing, nevermind the Holocaust Beam clip I saw that started this whole thing. But I was/am clueless to the extent of it. The Robin comparison is super helpful!

For my purposes of being a DC fan and a born again X-men Movie Fan, im happy to let the two versions remain separate to me (for my peace of mind and enjoyment of the version of the character and arcs I prefer).

This is a psa that if I ever mention loving Charles im only referring to his movie version!

Thanks again friend!