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#let’s just scream into the void :D

reigningmax · 1 year

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But then he or she will not be ready for Formula 1 in six or seven years, haha. I definitely want children and if they want to race, that’s fine. I do think I would do it differently than how my father and I did it. I don’t really see that way at the moment. But for me it’s easy to talk because I don’t have kids. Maybe I will think very differently when the time comes. But the passion he had went very far. He did everything for me. Tuning engines, preparing karts. I don’t see myself doing that. In any case, I’m not going to push my kids to race. They have to want it themselves. And if you do go all out for it with your son or daughter, I don’t think you can drive Formula 1 yourself anymore. You have to start laying the foundation from the age of four. I want to be there myself.

Max Verstappen on having his own children, and whether or not he wants them to race | December, 2022

#my post #quote #sorry i just needed this on its own so i can scream into the void #about the Growth #how for *him* he thinks it was fine the way his dad did it #but he doesn't wanna do that. doesn't wanna be his dad.#just wants to love and support them the best he can #he won't push #he'll let them do what they love.#like how he couldn't play football the way he wanted actually.#also the he or she. cause his baby girl can be a worldchampion in f1 if she wants to be #and he'll support her thru it.#cause that's the dad he'll be.#leave me here to d i e.#max verstappen #dad max

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dreamlandxrunaway · 6 months

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it has been... a while since I posted anything on here... and tbh it seems it'll be that way for a while. I did update 1cdat masterlist to say that it's on a hiatus... a couple of months back. I just can't put my thoughts into words, it's so annoying. I have the whole chapter planned; hell, I have the whole story planned out, it's just really hard to sit down and write everything :')

If you've read 1cdat and enjoyed it, dw, I will come back and finish it one day – I promised myself that I would actually finish it.... so the story will reach its conclusion one day... but it probably won't be this year. The way things are, I honestly doubt it will be the next year, too, but it will be done.

Although I had a lot of plans and wanted to share so many stories with our STAYs.... 1 cloudy day at the time will probably be the only one I'll post on here :)

I'm not quiting writing, I'm just probably not gonna write another ff but rather my own story, with my own characters. I have so many ideas that I hope to share with people one day :')

So yeah, a little update on my life... it sucks but hopefully things will get better :'D

#lilith.txt #1cdat #it's been a hot minute... yet again #ive started playing reverse 1999 so if anyone else is playing lmk if you wanna be friends or just talk about it LOL #none of my friends are playing it yet :')#but yeah... got a lot to do... both uni studying and just... learning in general.... and taking care of my health.... hah #ive been to negligent about my health gdmi :')#hopefully by this time next year ive either quit uni and started doing shit i want or ive gotten my shit together and...#and realized that you cant only do things you love... you also need to do things you dislike or are scared of.....#oh right... if youve watched cdrama lost you forever or read the book.... lets scream into the void together while we wait for S2....#theres so much i wanna say (general) but so little i can write down :'))))#anyways.. thanks for reading and i hope you have a wonderful rest of the year... bc unless something else happens #you wont hear from me until then hehe :'D

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rabbitblackx · 2 years

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Hiii! Happy Halloween!

May I please have the slashers (Michael ‘78, Jason, Freddy, Brahms) when their usually cheery and happy-go-lucky S/O tells them they want someone de*d? (Censoring just in case aha)

Also, I love your works!

Hiiii! Happy (late) Halloween! Hope u had a spooktacular time!👻 also thank u sm! I really really appreciate it and am glad u like em! :D💖

Slashers when Cheerful!Reader tells them they want someone dead

Includes: Michael Myers (1978), Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger and Brahms Heelshire

Warning: Violence and sexual references

Michael Myers (1978)

*Head tilt*

Michael didn’t feel much, but it was safe to say he was a tad bit shocked when you said that. You, of all people… wanted someone dead?

Michael stalked this person, tracking them down to their house. Instead of killing them then and there, he dragged them kicking and screaming back to your place.

His white mask shone malevolently in the dark kitchen, void of emotion. Your wide eyes travelled down to the person restricted in his arms. Their head was bleeding and their mouth was covered by Michael’s hand, his other around their neck

“Michael…?”

He wasn’t going to kill them, he wanted you to do it

His black eyes were shadowed in darkness, but you knew what they said. In a silent exchange, you slowly slid open a drawer. The person struggled and screamed into Michael’s hand. Your fingers wrapped around the smooth handle of a knife, and you pulled it from the drawer

Michael watched in awe as you approached, shakily lifting the blade. He held the person against his chest, giving you access to their abdomen. You stabbed them over and over, much like how you learned from Michael. Their cries of pain soon died down to nothing but a gurgling death rattle. He threw the person roughly down to the kitchen floor, where their blood pooled around their limp body

Michael didn’t let you say anything. He thrusted you into a wall, making you squeak. He gripped your wrist tight, your hand still holding the bloody knife. He was completely infatuated with you in this moment. His hungry eyes traced down your body as he breathed heavily behind his mask. Though you had just literally killed someone, you could feel yourself coming back to your cheery self as his lustful gaze made you all giddy inside.

Michael gently grabbed your throat, and tugged you towards your bedroom

Jason Voorhees

Though he wouldn’t show it, he was a bit concerned when you weren’t as happy or cheery as you usually were. One morning in bed, as you both sat up, he gently wrapped his strong arms around your frame. A tired smile met your face, knowing that was how he sometimes asked, are you okay?

“I’m fine, Jacey. It’s just that…”

When you told him you wanted someone dead in that sweet little voice of yours, the arms around you stiffened. Rage overtook Jason’s thoughts. What did this person do to you? If you, cute and innocent you, wanted someone dead, they must’ve been the devil himself

That night, Jason left the woods and headed to the more suburban area of Crystal Lake. He was an excellent hunter, and found your foe real quick. He stood over their bed as they slept, their chest rising and falling with each breath. The person soon furrowed their brow and stirred, sensing the hateful eyes boring into them. Jason hardly gave them a moment to realise what was happening before he went in for the kill. He thrusted his machete down, over and over until they were spewing hot blood all over the bedsheets

Jason walked back home, pretty satisfied with himself. His mother was quite proud of him as well. But what excited him the most, was your own glowing words of praise. You were finally gonna be your happy self again!

Jason crept into the cabin, trudging towards your shared bedroom. You slept soundly within the sheets. Unlike his last victim, he would not wake you so rudely. He instead laid down next to you, bloody clothes and all. Jason wrapped his arms around you and pulled your back into his chest

“Mmm, Jason…?” You croaked

You could feel the fresh blood dampening the blanket. But alas, you were too tired to care. You also knew exactly who’s it was

“Love you, Jason.” You smiled

Jason rested his head on top of yours, cuddling against you affectionately

I love you too

Freddy Krueger

Instantly aroused😨😨

Freddy laughed evilly and licked his lips at you. Now we were talking! He loved that you were always happy and cheery, it was what made you so fun. But there was that small part of him that just wanted to ask, don’t you just wanna go ape shit?

He was gonna go kill them, sure. But in that moment, all he wanted was you. He slammed you against the wall and gripped your waist hard. Flirty giggles bubbled from your lips as he pulled you into a needy kiss

Freddy slithered into the person you wanted dead’s dreams like a fox to a chicken coop. He tormented them continuously, physically and mentally. He even interrogated them, shouting right in their face about you

“How dare you fucking touch them? You’re mine now, you little bitch!”

Couple slashes to the face later, Freddy waltzed his way over to your own dreams; his favourite place in the whole world. You greeted him with a wide smile and open arms, running up to him and attacking him in a hug. Freddy was careful with his bladed glove as he hugged you back

“It’s all taken care of, prince(ss). They won’t bother you ever again.”

Freddy pressed his chapped lips to yours, then shoved his bare hand under your shirt. Now the gory deed of his was done, he wanted you all to himself. You thought you could be all sexy, ask him to kill for you and then get away with it? Nuh-uh, babe! He was gonna eat you up

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms always adored how joyful you were. Whenever he felt blue, you were right there to cheer him up! What would he ever do without you?

One night, after reading Brahms a bedtime story in the most enthusiastic and engaging way possible, you gave him a goodnight kiss before cuddling up next to him in your shared double bed. Like usual, he fell asleep before you did, with his curls nestled against your chest. Just as you were about to drift off yourself, a loud crash sounded from downstairs. You nearly jumped out of your skin, becoming alert. You shook Brahms furiously awake, causing him to moan and groan in protest

“Brahmsy, I heard something from downstairs! I think there’s someone down there!”

You both leapt to your feet and snuck down to where you heard the noise. Just as you guessed, a burglar was in the living room, shoving old antiques and your tech into a duffel bag. He soon locked eyes with you, before looking over to Brahms. The burglar charged towards him, tackling him to the floor. The porcelain mask Brahms wore shattered into five large pieces, and laid at your feet. You screamed bloody murder as the two men began to tussle with each other. You kicked at the burglar, trying to get him off your boyfriend

Brahms ended up shoving him off, scrambling to his feet and looming over the smaller man. You looked to the broken mask on the floor, and a wave of anger hit you

“Kill him, Brahms.”

Before you could even realise what you just said, it was too late. Like a trained attack dog, Brahms threw himself onto the burglar. He straddled his hips, holding him down. He felt around for one of the shards of porcelain, and snatched one off the floor.

Brahms drove the jagged edge into the burglar’s throat. Your words echoed in his mind as he twisted the porcelain deep within the man’s jugular. He would do anything for you. You told him to do something, and he was straight on it. Always

When the burglar’s body stilled, Brahms lifted himself off him and stumbled over to you.

“Brahmsy…”

You threw your arms around him, and laid your head against his chest

“It’s okay, dear. I’ll protect you forever.” Brahms uttered in that deep, rich voice of his

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mooishbeam · 7 months

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『♡』 Treasures of the Fraud

♡ featuring: pantalone x f!reader

♡ summary: it's been forever since you've seen your friend, and as the hero of liyue, a new interruption has arisen. you pursue it, only to find memories awaiting you. wc: 9.1k+ (D:)

♡ cw/tw: long lonnggg fic, obsession, mentions of murder, mention of suicide, mentions of blood, manipulation, toxic pantalone, mean pantalone, possessive, spanking, degradation, mild praise, fingering, thigh riding, missionary, overstim, begging, edging, comeshot, pet names (darling, slut)

notes: helloooo!! ive been slow to get stuff out college is kicking my ass rn so sorry. not proofread so i apologize for any mistakes. I can't wait to have more time :) art by yion_yi on ig! <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

12 years ago

“Come get me!”

The boy with inky curls spiraling down his back dips through trees, ducking under low hanging branches embellished with vibrant autumn foliage. Messy blends of pink and purple melt across the slowly bleeding sun carried into the night. His silhouette resembles that of a malevolent spirit peeking behind the boughs, leaping over tangled twigs and shallow ditches. His excited screeches signal you to chase after the leading direction. You’re both screaming and laughing down the undoubtedly dangerous shortcuts. If your mother knew about the adventurous risks you were taking at 13, you’d never leave the house again. Tag is a troubling game—despite the thousands of times you’ve played with him, you regularly end up being “it”. You don’t care about losing, though; having someone to call a friend is enough.

You turn into a clearing with columns of trees overseeing your small presence, hundreds of them. The colder night is rising, not a celestial body to shield. In this deep blue void, the leaves seem to be aggrieved at your interruption of some secret meeting, angry and smiling faces crumpling in the whispering wind. You spin around frantically, looking for signs or laughter, but neither reveal themself. It’s quiet besides the downy linger of grass. Your shoulders are snatched back and shaken to a rattling shock. You scream, and he laughs.

“Rahhh! Did I get you?” he jests. Your eyebrows narrow, and you push him lightly to a stumble.

“You scared me!”

“Hah, that’s the point. C’mon, it’s late. Let’s go.” He's scared too, swiftly grabbing your hand as you both brave the darkness back to the village.

“We should’ve been home a while ago” you say quietly. You feel the chill in your bones and press yourself closer to him.

“Yea.” He holds your hand tighter at the sound of a small rock bouncing down a steep hill.

“I had fun today. Let’s do this again tomorrow.”

“I have something to tell you.”

“Okay.”

“I’m moving in the morning” he states. It was nonchalant, but your stomach turns a churning sickness. One you can’t understand yet, it makes you uneasy.

“Oh. Okay, then.” It isn't okay, not in the slightest. But it had to be. Your best friend of 8 years looks at you, aiming to register the gravity of the situation. You both say nothing, but tears start to brim in your eyes in the silence. You wipe them with your arm.

“Will you miss me?” he asks.

“A lot.”

“I’ll miss you too. Lots and lots.” He sways your interlocking hands. You pass by vacant homes tattered and aged by abandonment, overgrown with invading ivy. Homeless reside, caring each other to warmth from the freezing draft. You were lucky to have a home in this little forgotten sector of Liyue. It's a small, unfortunate room, with holes in the roof that drips when it rains and bags over the windows to keep the heat in. The stove never works, and you share a bed with your mother, but every birthday she makes sure to save just enough for a slice of cake with one candle. There isn’t more you could ask for. Everyone in the village suffered from poverty but they made it work, sharing crops and dairy to persevere until the next year. That’s how you met him, sitting on a rock as your mother collected rations. You perform two pebbles in your hands, mumbling sea shanties while imagining voyage on a grueling journey—he sat next to you.

“Those aren’t dolls. They’re rocks.”

“You’re a rock” you retorted.

“No, I’m not.”

“Do you want to be a rock?”

“...That’d be kinda cool.” You gave him a pile of pebbles, and he joined the trip.

You’re getting closer to the village, still processing who you’ll play with once he’s gone. You glance at him, he’s spaced out in a faraway stare. You crave the power to read minds.

“Can we talk about something? I’m getting sad” you sniffle.

“What should be talk about?”

“What are you going to do after you move?”

“I’m gonna be super rich” he assures, looking up at the starless sky as if a meteor would shoot across and grant his wish. “What about you?”

“I’m going to save the world” you proclaim.

“Cool. I hope you do.”

“Me too.”

You arrive at your makeshift door drawn together with scraps of wood and twisted rope for hinges. A dim candle glimmers inside, most likely your vexed mother waiting for your tardily return. He makes space for your entry, and you undo your hands for the last time. Before you go, he snatches your wrist. His eyes are foggy, cheeks an anxious tinge of pink. He isn’t sure what he’s feeling, but the strings in his heart are tense. His mouth shapes to say something, but nothing returns.

“Yeah?”

“...I... I’ll really miss you a lot” he whispers with a lump in his throat.

“Then don’t forget me, okay?”

“I won’t.”

“You promise?” you say and raise your pinky towards him. He curls around it. “I promise.”

“Good. By the way, you’re it now.”

“I’ll get you back when I see you again!” he chuckles. You bid your goodbyes, unaware that it would mark the unforeseen conclusion.

Leaves crunch under your feet as you make your leisurely traverse to Liyue Harbor. It’s just before sunrise and you finished helping the elderly in Qingce Village carry copious amounts of heavy produce to their homes. The thankful candies from seniors' jingle in your pocket as you stretch your weary arms. Your mom offered to cook, but you're determined to locate the best commissions Katheryne had before afternoon. “Maybe I’ll pick up some rice buns” you think out loud at the rumble of your growing appetite. You still had a long way to go before you got to the harbor.

This was your new normal. After your thundering battle with Ningguang and Keqing against Osial, you became an example of Liyue’s triumph. You also became more aware of Fatui tactics, wiping out their swarms with the raging fury of your pneuma and swinging vision. Days of grueling bloodshed resulted in your victory, cementing you as the lionheart of Liyue. Beat up and bruised, the only request you made after your fight was a hot meal and a place for your mom to retire. They delivered both, and you used your recent hero status to provide help to the villagers where needed, be it casual favors or ruthless assault on Fatui agents. You were neither rich nor poor, and lived off the land and kindness of the Liyue Qixing. They often suggested you focus on less mundane tasks, but to you, the most vulnerable age groups warranted priority. There was something about the lighthearted innocent squeals of children and mellow grandparents rocking in their wooden chairs that made you protective to an almost volatile extent.

Bustling interactions of trade and commerce carry through the wind as you enter the harbor—a sound that’s brought you peace for years. The smell of food vendors has you drooling instantly. As you devour the complimentary rice bun, you feel the yank of a little hand on your skirt. You look down and a boy with brown hair searches for familiarity in your face. You recognize him, babysitting him numerous times. You kneel and pat his head, but he doesn’t react or move.

“Hey, what’s up? Where are your parents?” you question, briefly scanning your immediate area for his family. He’s hesitant to speak, as if he can’t find the panicked words, and rushes into your arms. You hug him instinctively and let him sniffle into your shoulder. You pick him up in your grasp and raise his head with your other hand so that he’ll hopefully be open to your compassion.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” The boy wipes his chubby tomato-red face. “Grandma is on the floor, what do I do?” You quell your rising nerves to suppress his alarm and speak calmly.

“Where is she?”

Speed walking towards the destination, the commotion of a small crowd surrounds a kneeling woman in the distance. She’s on her sun-spotted hands and knees, wailing for some bygone Archon. “Grandma!” he yells and jumps out of your arms. You run after him, relieved that the worst case scenario hadn’t occurred. You push through the group and get eye level with her, forehead pressed to the ground spouting religious scripture.

“Are you okay? Do you need medical assistance?” Wise sunken eyes wrinkled with age and torn by tragedy stick to your heart. Her feeble hands encapsulate yours, and tears stream down her cheeks. “They took my baby!” she rasps, rocking back and forth. “Who did?” you ask, and she weeps harder. “They took her memory...my baby, my daughter!” You support her weight and lift her hunched figure off the pavement. “What did they look like, ma’am?”

“A black hood...red mask” she recalls shakily. Instantly miscellaneous chatter ensues. They whisper nervously in each other's ears, he who shall not be named steals their voices. “Fatui probably got ‘er” you hear the mumble of one. Fatui. Your blood boils at the word, and you direct your view to the shrinking man with hands in his pockets. “‘He’ got all of us” he scoffs. “Did they hurt you guys, too?” you ask, and they stare. They’re pained but accepting.

“500,000 mora.”

“194,000 for me.”

They list off their debt one by one, and you’re horrified at the accumulating number. They seem to endure, however; no longer phased by the incurable tally haunting their lives. “H-how are you paying any of this?”

“We can’t. It adds up. Interest, late payments, it always does. So, we give everything, and ‘he’ takes everything, until we have nothing left. We die poor without a possession to our name” a woman sighs. As a child, you heard of the loan sharks that purposely fed false promises to the poor, and once they were reeled in, charged insurmountable payments to blackmail—it was the origin story of most people in your birthplace. Your soul aches for them, but is there anything you can do?

“...I’ll help you, all of you. I’m sure I can-”

Ningguang arrives. She's a nurturing figure to you, the kind that asks if you’ve been eating well and politely scolds you. “What happened?” You lead the tired elder to the Jade Chamber, and she tells her story through choked sobs. You didn’t expect Keqing to already be there, arms folded and turned away from the situation. Ningguang can barely glance at the woman.

“They stormed my home and took my jewelry and belongings. They took the pendant my daughter gave me; it had her face in it. Archons give me strength, my baby! I can’t afford it; I have nothing!” she quakes. You rub her back and Ningguang nods, listening—you can’t help but notice the anxiety blooming on her abstracted face. They take her through the process and once she leaves, Ningguang and Keqing look at each other with a silent understanding. The room is eerily quiet, and Ningguang paces back and forth in front of the intel wall contemplating an uncertain danger. You fumble with your thumbs.

“What are we going to do about this?” you wonder. Keqing clears her throat loudly, attracting the attention of Ningguang. She looks at you, and sighs deeply. “We already know about this issue.”

Your ears perk up. “Great, so how can I help?”

“By doing nothing, (Y/N)” Keqing says.

“...What?”

“I have eyes everywhere; I’ve known for a long time. The Fatui are not people to be taken lightly, especially the harbingers. A few of their skirmishers were caught trading exotic goods and taxing medicine at high prices, on top of extorting the impoverished regions.” Ningguang points to one of the many Fatui exclusive headquarters on the wall. “Pantalone is the richest man in Teyvat, he has more political influence than anyone can imagine, and they answer to him. We can’t risk getting involved with this. They’ve brought this upon themselves, and unfortunately, they must deal with the consequences.”

You can’t accept this response. How can they just desert them? It doesn’t comprehend in your naïvity—you scold yourself for not spotting the signs sooner, furrowing your brows and looking at them with distaste. “I expected this. You shouldn’t have said anything” Keqing chides. “...Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped before-”

“You’re the last person I wanted to know about this” Ningguang interrupts. Your anger feels misplaced, and you bite your lip in restraint. She sits next to you and offers fleeting comfort with a graceful hand on yours. “You’re quite the reactionary type. In due time, this will be sorted. But right now, I need you to calm down, and trust me.” It sounds desperate, you know you shouldn’t go looking for answers, but a snagging thread pulls at the back of your consciousness, all too convincing. You bounce your leg. “You should want revenge just as much as me. Where we came from, where they end up, it isn’t fair.”

“You know I do, more than anything. But we must handle this with care, before too many people get hurt. I’m doing this for the betterment of Liyue as a whole. It’s not easy to make these decisions.”

“We can’t just go around serving justice, there’s laws we have to act with” Keqing adds. You don’t reply and stand up abruptly to leave. The worried Tianquan grabs your wrist one last time. “Promise me you won’t make a mistake, (Y/N). I’m trying to protect you” she pleads.

“I promise. Thank you.” You flash a half genuine smile, already planning to rebel against her wishes.

Who exactly is ‘he’—Pantalone. You don’t even know where to start looking. Too many headquarters, infinite possibilities. The best way you have to find him is through Fatui agents.

You start taking up odd jobs late in the evening, scouring for the possibility that a fatui agent might fall into your hands. Though you considered playing the part of an impoverished villager taking out a loan at Northland Bank, it didn’t guarantee that you’d meet Pantalone in the flesh—it’s more likely that would raise unnecessary suspicion in the process. It’s awkward at first, seeing the hero of Liyue fish on the dock for petty change throughout the night. As you do, the malicious fire in your eyes burns bright at the occasional voice in chill silence. Your vision glows as you toss the hunting knife between your nimble digits. Listening closely to conversations, hoping that one might be unguarded enough to slip up, but nothing of the sort appears—not even the boldness of Fatui skirmishers enables them to divulge secrets under the baleful existence of Celestia.

The moon illuminates sweetly on the tranquil waters lulling you to drowse. You hadn’t heard much since the start of your escapade. A fishing pole is weak in your resistless hold, and you’ve evidently given up on the idea of portraying the hardworking fisherman tonight. You vowed to help the people of Liyue, but justice was seemingly unfeasible. Maybe a direct approach? Should I ambush their headquarters? More so a suicide mission, you’d have no luck achieving that. Just as you’re about to leave, the crunch of withering grass straightens your posture. You make yourself hidden with a burst of energy and slouch behind the bushes as a Fatui pyro agent charges along the route. Through the glutted leaves obstructing your vision, you can just make out the heavy bag on his shoulder and jagged blade waiting restlessly on the other. His stride points towards Qingce Village. You hold your breath disguising yourself with the scenery and allow him to take a few feet between you before you begin following him. He’s rather shifty, those veiled eyes darting back and forth at the lightest noise. You’re careful to glide behind trees, moving with the heartbeat of the wind and taking advantage of the various melody's nature offers. You suck in a breath and duck behind a boulder a few inches too close, and his head snaps in your direction. The feeling of being watched besets him, but with no way to prove it and time running out, he secures his knife for the hypothetical ambush, and makes haste towards the target. Turning a tree, you watch as the pyro wielder knocks on the house of a small worn cottage. A short stocky man appears, shading half his body behind the door.

“H-hello...” you hear faintly. The Fatui keeps his hand firm on the door, one boot propped under the hinge. He presents the flaming knife loosely as he towers over the man. “We’ve given you time.” You were sure now that he's working for Pantalone.

“I don’t have it. P-please, if you could just give me some more-” He slams his fist against the wood, a resounding thump shakes the home. The man cowers. “Give me everything you have. The Regrator won’t wait any long-”

A small rock flies past his mask, skidding on the ground until it comes to a stop. He glares in the direction of the tree you’re hiding behind. You have no plan, nothing but the distracting impulse to stop the assailant from attacking. “Stay here” he commands, and stalks towards you. His slow footsteps get increasingly louder, playful stomps toying with your obvious whereabouts. He twirls the razor-sharp knife, and as he sharply peeks around the corner, you’re nowhere to be found. “Here, kitty kitty” he taunts, spinning towards the lake, then the village grounds for footprints. He severs the air aimlessly in mirth, believing some amateur fighter came to challenge him. As he monitors the tracks under you, you drop down from the wiry branches. Legs wrap tight around his neck, and you catch hold of his hood trying to pull his mask off. He gags but he’s too quick, throwing off your steadiness as he slams your spine on the grass. He whips around to take a stab at your chest, but you roll away guarding the vital arteries. You kick him in the crotch, and he recoils giving you ample time to stand.

You can’t feel the wet laceration dripping down your abdomen as you take a slash at his throat with your weapon, infused with elemental energy. He leans back and meets your strike. You trade blows, the strength of your smite bursting sparks of light above the scratches and bruises. Your wrist burns with the unmoving knives stumbling you. He begins to manifest blazing knives circling his figure, and you jump back from the singing cut melting the cloth. You wipe the dried blood from your mouth, and in the blink of an eye, he disappears. Suddenly, red auras similar to the pyro agent surround you. One by one, the clones charge at you, and you parry their overhead onslaught. Something is different about the last clone, your vision revealing a brighter outline than the others. When the next clone attacks, as you counter you pretend to fall for his trick. With your eyes on the other, he immediately passes through the black fog to deal the killing blow. You’re quicker this time and heave a heavy tear into his chest. Crimson splatters the grass, it shatters his element and rips open the robe. You tackle him on the dirt and wrestle until you kick his weapon away. Your knee digs into his back, and he can barely breathe with his arm locked behind him and knife rigid against his neck. He ttempts to swing at you, but you wrench his arm tighter and slice into his skin just enough to draw blood.

“Fuck. Okay!” he wheezes. “Where is Pantalone?”

“I don’t know what you’re- shit!” You’ve lost patience long ago and twist his arm to dislocate the shoulder. He lets out a blood curdling scream thrashing in pain—you tug hard and focus him. “Shut up and answer my question. Where is Pantalone?” you demand. He hisses in pain and coughs up phlegm mixing with reddening soil. “Kill me.”

“Just tell me and I’ll let you go.”

“I’m a dead man, either way.” he rasps and hangs his head waiting for the execution. You grit your teeth; a drop of guilt leaves a bad taste as you thwack the pressure point on his neck that forces him unconscious. You glance at the bag he left and limp over to rummage through the contents. Useless papers crumple under stolen items, but one note catches your eye. Presumably a to-do list, you read to the bottom. A list of homes, goods on standby exchanges—at the bottom of those, a rendezvous point:

Report back- Yilong Bank, Liyue

You rest in a plot of prickly bushes and leave in the morning after patching yourself up. You couldn’t stop now, not when you were this close to facing him. You soothe your body from the twigs prodding you all night, and check the wound suppressed by gauze. It’s a light scar now, apparent after bathing in the warm water on the outskirts of Qingce. You contemplated telling Ningguang about what occurred, but imagining the look on her face once she knew kept you moving.

Tucking your vision where it can’t be viewed, you take a waverider to Yilong Port into the afternoon. You concoct a half-baked scheme, one that relies on every scenario being perfect to a tee. Unreliable, but probably your only chance. The plan amounts to scaling the building and breaking in through the office window, snatching everything owned by the villagers and breaking out before anyone notices. Easy in your capabilities, but you have no idea what the building looks like, nor do you know where the office is. The man driving wears all black, an outfit that stands out from the rest of the region. He stares at you blankly, and once you’re aware, you meet eyes. His smile is uncanny, stretching across his face with an abnormal friendliness.

“Is this your first time at the port?” he asks, finger tapping the wheel. Be it sleep deprivation or ignorance; you don’t recognize red flags in his behavior. You smile at the courteous face. “Yeah, the weather’s beautiful out here.”

“Mhm, hot weather up here. On vacation?”

“Nah, I have business here.” The minuscule edge of your vision catches in the light. He homes in on the passing twinkle. You wonder why his eyes widen momentarily, and his finger starts to tap methodically, as if memorizing a coded pattern.

“Business...what kind?”

“Oh...I have some items to trade.” You close off your answers feeling that you’ve said too much. He subsides with a stale expression. “If you’re looking to trade, you might find luck at Yilong Bank” he utters monotonously.

“And where is that?” You feign disinterest, but victory is too loud on your tongue.

“Up the mountain.” The waverider halts at the harbor, and he turns his head away from you unusually cold, akin to a mechanical bot shutting down. “Welcome to Yilong Port.”

You make yourself invisible in the crowd and wait for nightfall. People still roam the port along with Fatui monitoring the front of the bank, which gives you leeway to blend in as you find passage around the back of the mountain. It’s a steep, dark incline jutted with irregular jagged stones. The imposing size of the climb tangles knots in your stomach, and you wipe the persistent sweat on your top. In one huge leap, you latch onto a craggy indent, and begin your ascension.

Your legs feel like jelly with each contact of the unforgiving breeze. You sway alongside the spirit of anemo and swallow your anxiety before leaping to the next rock. Shoes plant into rock and nails excavate fresh cobble on the next jump. By the time you’ve realized, you’re already up most of the mountain. You tug yourself even with the land as a barreling gust of wind goads your glance to the ground, kilometers beneath you. Your breath stills, and for a second dizziness overtakes your nerves at the thought of slipping. I could die, one mistake and I’m dead. You focus, and spring to the next piece. Without warning, rock gives way into pebbles at the weight of your foot. You nearly plunge, but anchor onto the small bump out with one hand. You’re dangling off the edge, playing with death while you fortify your body. Hyperventilation makes your heartbeat thrum incessantly and stress palpitates tired muscles; If you didn't have your vision, you would’ve fainted to your demise. You bite the bullet, push your heels in and persevere through the hurdles. The next thing you clutch is malleable in your palm. You vault over the cliff, the smell of dew is overwhelming. The back of the bank—the end goal—is visible.

One Fatui member remains in the front. You scale up the building effortlessly, nothing compared to the hell you just went through. Shifting window to window, your eyes land on the pitch-black darkness of the room at the top of the building. An ideal glow casts on the fraction of precious gold resting on a coffee table. This has to be it. You slink through the window soundlessly, and land on the balls of your feet. Analyzing the dish, you don’t discern the pendant. You can faintly identify some bookshelves near the dish, and tiptoe further inside. You creep around luxury sofas, and squint at the embellished glass case next to the door, containing all manner of jewelry and valuable possessions. You won; this was it. You scurry to it, moving with abrupt carelessness. One more step.

Click

The fireplace you didn’t heed is set aflame. It flickers sneering shadows on the opposite wall and brightens the case. You pause and hope. There’s a confining silence stirring in the room, like someone is with you. The case is visible now, and so is the key to opening it.

You fell into a trap.

“Looks like I have a little thief on my hands.”

A bittersweet voice in the sable, reminiscent of rich dark chocolate, rolls off the room. He steps out obscurity behind his desk and your eyes adjust, revealing the tight black turtleneck compressing his willowy torso and gloves adorned with silver rings. You can’t see the upper part of his face, but the chains of his glasses hang in front of that duping smile. You expected the Fatui harbinger to be on the stronger side, physically intimidating. It’s not physical, but you feel a certain fear boiling in your body. He’s not terrifying, but you tremble. His presence makes your hair stand and sends waves of goosebumps up your arms. You can’t find the will to move your wobbly legs. His charmed laugh rings in your ears and causes you to hold your breath. He has no vision; you shouldn’t be afraid. You could take him on easily, why can’t you fight?

“Hello, honored hero of Liyue” the headless man taunts. It makes it worse that he knows who you are. How long had he known you were coming? Was your plan doomed from the beginning? Your feet are stuck in molasses as your fight or flight shuts down at the man before you.

“Now, tell me. What is the little thief doing, barging into my office to take the possessions I worked so hard for? Not very heroic of you, If I may say.” There’s power in his stature—you forget how to speak. He holds his palm out to you. Tangled between his fingers, is the ornate golden pendant you’d been searching for, a woman’s face in the frame. Your eyes widen, and the sweet familiar curve of his lips stretches in amusement.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” The plod of low-heeled boots accompanies unveiled darkness, and you can observe his entirety. Amethyst eyes drunk with an orchid hue pool into your being. Lazy curls brush against his glasses and kiss his porcelain skin. He’s beautiful, a calm enticing rip current that sweeps you with immeasurable pressure before you can pull yourself out. He leans on the desk, observing the chain halfheartedly. If you weren’t careful, you’d mistake the look on his face for genuine kindness; you’d drown, just like he craved. Nonetheless, you can’t shake the emotion his smile grants.

“Yes. That’s all I need, and I won’t bother you again” you whisper meekly, hoping that he’d let you go with the pendant in a spur of forgiveness. The jest in his eyes says something different.

“Come get it.”

Come get it. Your mind begins to piece the man into a stage of your life you’d forgotten. It can’t be him. Memory tells intrusive truth in short flashes. Inky curls spiraling in front of you as you chase. He was consistently miles ahead of you. It was irrelevant how far apart you were; he’d always find you. That big, curving smile for every match he won. Purple eyes glancing back at yours; the same ones that withheld tears when you said goodbye.

“Come get me!”

Tears stream down your eyes for the friend you thought you’d never see again. Childhood laughter bleeds into his current cat-like conniving snicker, and you gaze at his face.

“I... remember you” you choke. He looks up without a smile, perceiving an unexpected thought, and meets your eyes. There’s a hint of affection in the warm smile beaming on his face. “My my, (Y/N). You have quite the memory.”

You’re motionless, full of something that catches in your lungs. This isn’t the triumph you wanted, and now that you’re face to face you feel powerless. He must’ve known the entire time. Watching you fight and work alone, sending Fatui to roam in Liyue, all done to toy with you. Your lip quivers, swelling in your already deafening heartbeat.

“How long...” you utter. He inquires with the tilt of his head.

“How long have you been messing with me?” Your eyes adhere to the floor, pride that won’t permit you to shed misery for Pantalone. He drinks in your resistant frame, the kind he desires to break; perhaps this game of cat and mouse isn’t done, after all.

“This hurts me too, (Y/N). I wouldn’t be doing this if you weren’t so…persistent.” Your confusion spills over in shaky, weak huffs. You can’t maintain your composure, and make yourself first to oppose the authoritative man on his own territory.

“How could you do this to anyone? We grew up poor!” You shout with balling fists.

“It’s inefficient to dwell on the past” he replies with gentle cadence and languid grace unrepresentative of his cruel tactics. You nearly regret raising your voice.

“These people are at their wits end and you’re taking advantage of them” you chide. He slowly paces towards you. Pantalone looks down on you from height disparity, but the royal glower pities you, judges worth you can’t see.

“Driven by emotions, are you that simple? You presumed that if you stormed in here, and professed a touching story, that I would suddenly see the error in my methods?” You’re not sure what you’re here for anymore or why you haven’t left yet. Subconscious urges can't determine if they should slap or hug the man inching towards you. “I simply enforce contracts and exchanges. No one can be swindled by a debt accreted on their own.”

“No one asks to be poor either” you interject. Pantalone’s a foot away from you now, analyzing your reactions to his personal entertainment. He recalls the blurry past—the pranks you pulled together that ultimately failed from your loud hurried sneakiness tripping to alert the farmers, helping out for loose change so that you’d split a snack between each other that wasn’t big enough to share, gazing at the twinkling night imagining a distant future—you changed and stayed the same, but he keeps wanting more.

“Weigh the odds. They either die impoverished or live by passage of loans. I merely provide a service. Does that make me so cruel?” You can’t find an answer.

“You’ll always be my friend, but I need it back. It can’t be much to forgive someone’s debt” you plead.

“You still consider me a friend?”

“I think…you’re hurt. And you’re trying to heal. We all are. I know I’ve dealt with a lot as I’ve gotten older and I think you have, too. Power corrupts even the best people in this world, so maybe you’re not a bad person. But you’re doing bad things, and this isn’t the right way to get better.”

Pantalone is quiet for a few long moments. His hands web his face, but you can clearly see the pearly fangs in his open-mouthed smirk. Then he laughs—dulcet and mocking, it lingers for too long as he throws his head back and relishes the obtuse notion. He gazes with insulting compassion and stalks towards you.

“Incredibly…. gullible. Mora is the pathway to all endeavors. Devoid of gnosis or divine knowledge, wealth has rendered me impervious to control. Suffering and destitution only manifest if I will it. I am the guise of a false god, an emblem of achievement.” It’s borderline delusional the way he regards himself, arms moving in theatric grandeur, the star of his own opera.

“Does that make you feel good? Stepping on the backs of the community that raised you, and abandoning them because they chose not to be influenced by greed?” Pantalone towers over you. His fingers brush light against your sensitive ears, trail to your clenched jaw, and finally cup your frustrated cheeks with the cradle of a long-lost lover.

“It does, in fact. I’m not easily swayed by ridiculous optimism, that’s why I’m at the top. You’ve devoted your blood and tears to a region that will succumb to adversity in your absence. Is that not a pointless feat?”

“So what? That doesn’t mean we just don’t help people. You have nothing without the Fatui, you’re a pawn just like the others” you retort. He brings his lips close to the shell of your ear, and his breath hot on the untouched skin drags a tingle up your spine.

“And what do you know about the Fatui?” he whispers.

“I know enough. You’re all disgusting.” He huffs out his nose.

“Disgusting isn’t the right word. I’d say...opportunists.” Pantalone backs up, sliding his hand up your chin and tilting your attention to the intense glint. “But you’re clever, I’ll give you that. If only you were clever enough to know your place.” You'd forgotten you were acting out of line. You refocus your mindset to negotiation.

“I’ll do anything you ask for the debt. Please, just give it back.” The word “anything” evokes a malicious yearning—so forthcoming without understanding the implications of “anything”, of eternity. He caresses your cheek.

“Anything, hm? Even if I said to give up being a hero for good? Would you still call yourself a heroic traveler if you weren’t allowed to travel or adventure as you please?” he teases. Your mouth opens to refute, but you bite your bottom lip instead. Pantalone walks back to his desk and leans while dangling the golden chain. Now that he’s far, the invading space between you two shows how insignificant you are in this luxury palace.

“Your resolve moves me. Consider this; make an exchange with me, and I’ll guarantee not only her debt, but the debt of all residents in Liyue forgiven” Your face instantly lights up, ready to accept it without thinking.

“What is it?” you ask.

“In exchange for regional loan forgiveness, I want you.”

“...What?”

“I want everything you have. It’s the fairest exchange I can make. Your obedience, your loyalty, and your body.”

The choice turns in your frontal lobe. You can’t fathom giving yourself to a man, let alone a Fatui harbinger. It’s unbecoming of a hero to lie with the enemy.

“Absolutely not” you assure.

“Alright. Then allow their village to be reduced to nothing.” No, wait. “You may leave. However, if you do, you’ll cause great misfortune to that woman and her struggling family” You play into his covet so smoothly as you stand in the center of the room, reluctant to leave.

“I’m not a complete monster, so I’ll give you 5 seconds to make a choice.” He sways the pendant in his hand like the transient time of an hourglass. 5 seconds, all you have to sign your life away.

“4.”

What if no one ever sees you again? What’s the point of sacrificing your happiness and freedom, are the people of Liyue truly worth it?

“3.”

You could threaten him, take him hostage so that a harbinger might bow to your demands. That, or they kill you, and the village suffers anyway.

“2.”

You think of your graying mom, the sweet boy with his chubby red face who cries over the smallest things, the grateful elders that give you candy after every good deed, Ningguang and Keqing stressing over the next financial impact.

“1.”

“I’ll do it.”

Pantalone swings the chain into his palm, an undefeated smug overbearing as he sets it on the desk. There was never a point in resisting; he always got what he wanted, no matter how long it took to achieve it. He waited months—no, years—to get you in this exact moment. There’s a daunting beguiling charm in the way he closes the gap between you two. You glare at him; a temper common people would dread shooting. He assesses the pending punishment and lowers himself eye-level. He grins, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I can see the defiance in your eyes. Do you want to talk back? Go ahead, challenge me.” You don’t test this scenario and turn your head. “Don’t patronize me. Get it over with, ‘Pantalone’.”

He quirks an eyebrow, and pliable flesh strains your teeth as your face is gripped rough by satiny leather. You’re twisted sharply to the calm expression—it humbles you.

“That’s not how you address your superior. What should you call me?” You don’t answer promptly to his liking, and he tightens his grip. “Answer me properly, darling.”

“...Sir.” Pantalone plants a sickly sugary kiss on your forehead, the kind that makes you forget how petrifying he can be, and lets you go.

“Good.” He walks back to the desk and sits in the onyx chair embellished with silver jewels fit for a king. His chin rests on bridging hands. “Strip.”

You don’t move, your heart hammers in your chest at the request and you stir uncomfortably. You have no experience with sexual gratification, let alone exposing yourself to an old friend.

“(Y/N). Don’t make me say it again.” Keen agitation in his voice serves as a final warning. He eats you with his eyes, homed in on your hands clumsily snaking the top over your head. A glimpse of the scar you received during your fight with the Fatui captures him. He takes a mental entry, for an explanation that might justify why the agent suddenly goes missing. You were generally too busy to look in the mirror or analyze your assets, and pleasure was a removed afterthought—so the hungry fervor warming your skin and permeating the room clamped your thighs shut. You’re visibly flustered and nervous fumbling with the clasps on your bra while stabilizing your anxiety, and he delights in every second of the accidental strip tease. It feels like fresh meat introduced to a savage animal, and the instant your bra omes off, a new vulnerability coils in your gut. You move to your bottoms; the sheen of sweat polishes your plush thighs to wiggle out of them. You’re left in nothing but tantalizing panties hugging you in the right places. His eyes undress and redress you, tracing up and down the perk of your nipples, tempting fullness of your thighs, each unseen curve and perfect imperfect mark on your glistening body. He lets out a deep breath to stop himself from jumping over the table and taking you right there.

“The underwear. Take it off” he says, an undertone of lust. You shimmy the fabric off and fully expose yourself. You impulsively cover your intimate parts and avert your eyes, but you can still feel Pantalone on you, ravaging you. He doesn’t bother telling you to put your arms at your sides, your bashfulness combined with an attempt at stoicism is comical.

“Ah, the little thief is trying to act tough. That's cute” Pantalone teases and leans back in the chair. Manspreading, he pats his thigh. “Crawl.”

He’s hellbent on shaming the defiance out of you. It’s a vile command, but you begrudgingly drop to your hands and knees. You drag your chaffed knees on wood, balancing like a newborn fawn adjusting to its legs. It’s humiliating and downright degrading; the cold floor fails at cooling your burning fever. You’re on the verge of tears, but Pantalone can’t help but smile. You get around the desk and look up at him, waiting for the next horrible thing he’ll have you do. “Unfortunately, the stunt you pulled impeded my paperwork. Be a good thing and sit on my lap until I’m done.” A “thing”—that’s all you were now, a shiny trophy meant to be ogled at but never taken seriously, used and thrown away. You stand off your scraped raw knees and straddle his thigh, hands balancing the leg so you don’t fall.

And Pantalone starts to work. Working as if you’re not there, filling in the spaces on his documents. For some reason, it’s more demeaning this way, you truly are just a prize. One hand dances beautiful penmanship in masterful motions on embossed paper, the other fondles and explores your being. The gloves brush down your delicate spine, nonsensical shapes drawn on your lower back that make you shiver and pool heat in places you’ve never thought of. You’ve never been touched like this, it’s needles light on your skin. They move to your stomach, pleasant circles above the pelvis that threaten to go lower. He’s careful to trail his hand up your cleavage and behind your neck, neglect your hardening nipples and repeat the process over and over. He’s painstakingly slow, savoring the dazed arch of your back, massaging your inner thighs and dragging the sleek material over your rear.

Middle and index sweep across your lips, pulling your bottom lip to reveal teeth, and prods your mouth. Pantalone’s fingers are invasive, they exploit your gums and twirl around the squishy tongue molding to his appetite. He plays with the pink mass, and it fills you like a kiss. He’s everywhere and he hasn’t looked at you once. You hate it, the kind elegance and refinement of his technique that makes every calculated word and action reek of opulence. Yet, arousal pools on the surface, sticking to your labia and clouding your drowsy mind. It’s an extreme ache that doesn’t go away from cold showers or shrugging off like you usually would. You can’t remember what you did today, yesterday, or the day before that. The sensation of him consumes you and persists in spots he left. He smells of expensive cologne, hints of heady wood and sage. You’re lucky his fingers are in your mouth, or piteous moans would spill out of you. Flat on his thigh, the subtle jolts of his leg rub against your hypersensitive clit and set your nerves on fire. Throbbing swells in your core, and you struggle to stay stiff as your hips stutter.

Pantalone knows exactly what he’s doing. Your labored pants sound like saintly melody while you writhe on his lap. The fabric goads your pulsing pussy, and you hang your head in embarrassment of the juices soaking your thighs and his. He’s surprised you have strength left to withstand the itch. You do your best to hover above it, trailing thick strings of slick. “There’s no need to pretend you don’t like this. Just give yourself to me” he whispers. And it’s so enticing, an invitation that might let you come if you ask. However, remnants of pride cling to your melting resolve, you can’t give in yet. He takes the fingers out and presses on your nipple, flicking the bud. You can’t hold the mewl, and he snickers.

“So indignant for the hero of Liyue, to be on a harbingers lap, reduced to a pretty pet.” Your ears tune out the insults. The damp gloves pull and pinch your puffy nipples, then knead to soothe the pain. He does the same to the other, switching between both as he feels you squirm.

He works on the last few pages. Piles upon piles of reports and records—they detail the deaths, or “suicides”, of clients who’d disappeared mysteriously after extended absence of payments for millions of mora, people who dared go against the Regrator. Unruly, uncooperative clients that take advantage of fair exchange, and pay the price for it.

Your arms get tired, and you settle on him again. Pantalone starts to softly bounce his leg, enough for you to notice the friction on your clit. It’s too much, you can’t take it anymore, and start to rut your hips on his thigh. You look messy, smearing your essence on those overpriced slacks and biting back your moans. Pleasure flows in your veins, and you give up. His cock throbs nonstop, print stealing space in his pants. “Did you believe I wouldn’t catch you? You’re not sneaky enough. You’re not good enough," he taunts from the corner of his eye. You hump his leg like a desperate bunny, chasing the addictive high.

“Nasty slut, fucking your hips on a man you barely remember.” He moves his hands to your clit and replaces the slacks with slippery leather. You grind on it harder and hold your moans. More, more, more. He coats it in the mess and finally diverts his attention to you. He teases your entrance gliding vertically on your vulva before pushing one finger in. It hurts at first, but your walls hug him eagerly, pulling it deeper. He coaxes it to take another and starts scissoring your gushy walls.

“I’ll devour you. I’ll inscribe my name upon every surface of your physique until it adorns your lips, and I’m the only thing that remains.” Pantalone starts pumping rhythmically, tormenting, poking everywhere but your g-spot. Gloss drips down his knuckles and glazes his rings.

“S-sir please, s’too much” you whimper, mustering up an ineffective stable voice. “Hmm? Can you hear the lewd sounds you’re making?” Loud squelches sing from him fucking your insides. Each time you try to speak, he elicits another moan.

“M-my sto-mach hurtss” you whine. He holds your waist in place with the other hand and continues the assault. “I know, it hurts? Would you like me to alleviate the pain?” he coos. You nod fast.

“Hold it in. You ask for permission every time you’re close, do you understand?” You don’t reply and try to angle your body to get more contact. You make the mistake of guiding yourself to your clit and earn a harsh stinging slap on your hand. “Don’t touch what’s mine” he orders. You’re frustrated and he’s doing it on purpose, it’s entirely too hot where pleasure and pain blur. “N-not yours” you stammer, and he stops. He pulls out your warmth and you whine from loss of pressure. Looking at him, there's no smile, and the irritation on his face makes your heart drop. You're really in for it.

Without delay, your stomach flies over one of the chair arms, and you hold onto it for dear life. It presses firm on your ribs, and he slants your ass to the air. “You have courage, speaking back to me” he says. He pulls his gloves off and hurls them. They’re lovely, the silken soft hands of a man who hadn't lifted a finger through combat a day in his life. They sink into your sex, and you moan out for him. The other winds back, and you feel the palm hit brutally on your unsuspecting backside. Crack. It echoes in the room, and you almost fly forward.

“Disrespectful.” Crack. He keeps pumping through it, and tears collect in your lashes.

“Disobedient.” Crack. There’s blood rushing to your head, and violent smacks make your pussy flutter and ass ripple; his control won’t give you adequate touch.

“Little.” Crack. Every time he feels you getting there, he pauses. A masochistic pleasure whirls innermost.

“Brat.” Crack. Both cheeks are a sore fiery color and beginning to welt, but he resumes. You’re drenching his palm, sobbing from prolonged edging and Pantalone laughs. “Pfft, you’re crying? Too embarrassed to beg? Perhaps I’ll give you what you want, if you grovel hard enough, darling.” An incoherent orchestra of please’s mesh with broken moans. “Sir m’sorry. Wan’ it so bad, p-please!” you mumble. There’s no dignity on your lips, no residue of the hero you once were. Drunken ardor floods your short-circuiting brain.

“Oh, what do you say? You want it? Is that it? I'll let you have it... but only if you say it loud and clear for me” he croons. He winds his fingers in a come-hither gesture that licks your core.

“Please...I won’t misbehave again!” He spreads your ass apart and watches your hole pucker from lining the brink.

“I’m not sure I want to give it to you now. It's a lot more enjoyable watching you squirm and beg.”

“’M yours, sir. Please give it to me. I’ll be s’good, promise!” you mewl. You’re so pathetic, it’s endearing. He simpers and maneuvers impossibly fast while gyrating your clit. “How humiliating. You’ve satisfied me.” Your eyes roll back, and you dissolve in pure euphoria. There’s black dots in your vision, and it doesn’t stop as he starts torturing your overstimulated clit with the pad of his thumb. Your tears only encourage him. You jerk and spasm, but he moves where you move with insistent skill. “T-too m-”

“Aww, what’s wrong? Isn’t this what you wanted, where are your manners?” Pantalone pulls out and delivers staggering mean swats to your pussy, and you recoil. “Say thank you” he demands.

“Thank you, sir.” He hums and picks you up in his arms. Before color can return to your numb cells, he lays you on the desk. You watch him pull his shirt up to his pecs with haste and uncover the lean skinny midsection. Unzipping his pants, he unsheathes his leaking thumping erection. Even his dick is pretty, it curves upwards and shades a starving dusty pink past the thin strip of tissue on the underside of his bulbous tip. Composure thinning, a bead of pre come runs down his tip at the sight of provocation sluicing your ass and thighs. His glasses plunge down his neck, body blushed wildly, but he doesn’t care. Pantalone slides between your labia and groans at the sound. Engulfing the tip in awaiting velvet warmth, “You’re so good for me, hm?” he sighs. You embrace him, delicious searing stretch of your walls forming to his cock. Your orgasm builds just from your body accommodating the size. He places your hands on your calves and holds them at your sides. He slips out, and in one swoop, drives into you. His heavy balls smack against your ass as he thrusts frenetically in the gooey grip he’d been waiting for, stalking and spying for. He digs crescent shapes in your waist and uses you to his abundance. The desk base creaks and grinds on abrading wood and obituaries float to the floor with overturned calligraphy ink from the unrelenting momentum. You throw your head back and indulge the carnal lust washing over you both.

“You’ll never see anyone ever again. Fuck- you’re mine, and mine alone. You’re nothing but a come dump, your purpose is to please me, hah, until I say it’s over” his voice is unexpectedly deprived and weighty with vulgar whimpers. Pantalone eyes your neck and encapsulates it in his slender hand. He clenches tight and releases in sporadic bursts that have you seizing around him. For a split second there’s the image of you—exorbitant pearled collar wrapped around your throat, with “Pantalone” inscribed in bedazzled letters—and he loses it. He swipes your clit rapidly and feeds you deep strokes; you’ll definitely die. You speak, but it’s unintelligible rambling.

“Use your words” he lilts, squeezing your airflow taut. “C-can I, sir, please?”

“You’ll do it on my command.” Pantalone thrusts frenetically, you can feel him bucking, twitching and quickly approaching his climax. His hips sputter, chanting some mixture of your name and curses under his breath. “You’re so obedient for me, aren’t you? F-fuck, darling, go ahead. Come on my cock.” You permit yourself to surrender, white noise streams in and time slows as you come down his shaft. A creamy ring forms at the hilt of his slaps. You recite “thank you” through wails with the semblance of a follower at the altar of their savior. Then he grabs your face and goes in for a kiss.

It’s sloppy and misses half your lip, but its doughy attachment mellows your blissed out head. His lips taste like the bitter excess of green tea, and you crane for a better sample. His tongue does things his fingers couldn’t, and swirls around yours in a passionate bruising waltz. Pantalone breaks away, a string of saliva when he frees himself. “Mm, coming. Gonna claim you everywhere” he whimpers. Sweat on his lustered abdomen, he pumps his tender cock before spurting thick hot ropes across your tits and stomach. He paints your vulva with the rest and plunges the tip in your entry so as to not waste the endless globs of white. He tremors inside you until soft, and when some dribbles out he fingers it back inside.

Afterwards, Pantalone opens one of the drawers on the desk and takes out an embossed loan dismissal form. You can’t read the finer details through hazy eyesight. “It’s already signed, so don’t worry. I won’t deceive you.” He caresses your face in his normal sing-song attitude. “We depart in the morning.” You don’t have a clue where you’re going or how you’ll get there as you drift unconscious. Once you’re asleep, Pantalone shuffles in a different locked drawer. He twiddles the stunning purple geode in his hand, a crystal lined mineral you gave to him years prior. He looks at you, then the druse, and cackles.

“Mine. Always.”

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin au #pantalone smut #pantalone #pantalone headcanons #headcanon #pantalone x reader #pantalone x you #pantalone x y/n #genshin impact pantalone

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hxney-lemcn · 1 month

Text

The Show Goes On — Berial (AFK Journey) x gn! reader

summery: you find yourself in the clutches of a jester who just wanted to have some fun. (un)fortunately for you, you seemed to have peaked his interest.

tw: uhhh Berial straight up kidnaps reader 💀 (this is not a yandere thing tho. Just crazy people shit). mentions of death/dying.

a/n: Berial simps have some food. Idk what possessed me when I wrote this but enjoy.

wc: 2.5k

Master List

The moon shone brightly over the town, casting dark shadows around every corner. Lights dimly lit up the main streets, guiding you on your way home. You had decided to cut through an alley, something that you typically did to cut your travel short. Yet, as soon as you stepped foot into the dark alley only being lit up by the moon, you heard bells chime behind you. You paused, heart accelerating.

There were rumors of a Hypogen monster that lurked in the shadows. That if you heard bells to not look behind you or you would be doomed. How the screams of its victims were silenced before they could even let out a peep. You thought they were tales parents told to keep their kids from sneaking out at night, but at the moment it felt all too real. Taking in a deep breath, you tried to regain your composure, it was a silly rumor, but the way your hair stood on end had you stay cautious.

You continued walking, trying to ignore the giggles that now accompanied the jingles. Your head twitched, instinct begging you to just take a peak at what was making noise, but you forced your head to stay forward. Your pace grew faster, as the end of the alley came into view. Every fiber in your bones told you you’d be safer in the light (silly humans always thought that).

Just as you were about to step foot out of the alley, relief briefly flowed through you, only for that hope to be snatched just as quickly. Dark glove clad hands tugged you back by your shoulders, that giggling voice now right next to your ear. You couldn’t stop the shriek that tore from your lips as an inky dark face came into view. It donned a jagged grin, you could barely comprehend what you were currently witnessing. It had no lips, its jagged mouth reminding you of a jack-o-lantern, except jack-o-lanterns were meant to ward off evil. It seemed to lack any eyes, as there were no pupils or iris’, just pure white that was tinted purple.

Its giggles turned into full blown laughter as it continued to drag you back into the inky blackness. You struggled, unsure what it wanted with you, but clearly it was nothing good. Your stomach dropped when you were suddenly picked up and were flying. You ceased your struggling, suddenly very aware that the hypogean could easily drop you to your demise. That seemed to amuse it all the more as its impossibly wide grin widened.

Then, like it hadn’t just kidnapped you, set you down on your now wobbly legs. You placed your weight on a nearby wall, slowly taking in your surroundings. It wasn’t Esperia, that was for sure, which made your blood run cold. The two of you were in an area that you could only describe to look like a void. Dark, purple tinted clouds curled in the distance, the only ground being the weird estate like structure you were currently in. It hurt your mind wondering just how this place existed, and the hypogean seemed all too pleased by your expression.

“You are tonight's winner!” The being exclaimed in a flourish. It twirled before falling into a dramatic bow, but instead of just taking off its hat, it took off its entire head. You blinked, bewildered as its eyes blinked up at you. It paused, as if waiting for you to clap, and you couldn’t hold the laughter that flew past your lips in surprise. The entire situation was absurd, and if you didn’t laugh you might actually cry.

Your reactions seemed to make the entity even more jolly as it swiftly put its head on backwards. Only to twist it into the correct position, causing you to chuckle once more. It seemed to thrive on your ‘enjoyment’ (you didn’t find much joy in this situation) as it was more enthusiastic than before.

“I knew you would be an interesting human,” It preened, every movement exaggerated as if to entertain. “As tonight’s winner, your prize is to witness a show put on by the great Berial himself!” The bells on his uniform chimed gently as he floated up, arms wide open along with his wings.

You watched with caution, unsure of what was to become of you. Just what did Hypogeans find entertaining? Didn’t they enjoy the anguish of people? Spilling blood and finding joy in tears? It clearly found joy in your fear earlier, but strangely he seemed to enjoy your amusement as well. What would happen to you after the ‘show’? Is that when he would dispose of you? Perhaps you were the last act, to be messed with until you could no longer cry nor bleed.

“Now take a seat and let the show begin!” Berial (you assumed) exclaimed, whisking you away into a room that held a stage. One lone seat laid before it, and the jester gently pushed you into it.

Every act had you on the edge of your seat. He would take a classic magician trick and have some dark twist. It took out a magician's wand, and with a flourish, it turned into a bouquet. You hadn’t seen magicians before, your only exposure being that from books, so it was all new to you. You merely worked at a tavern, hence why you were walking home so late in the first place. So at first, when he presented you the bouquet, you had forgotten for a split second that this was a hypogean you were dealing with, stranded in the middle of the definition of nowhere. Hesitantly you reached for the bouquet, the flowers were breathtakingly beautiful, and when your fingers wrapped around the base, bugs started to crawl out of the flowers. You screamed out of surprise, dropping the flowers and pushing yourself as far as you could into the surprisingly comfortable chair.

Berial’s laugh rang out above you as you tried to steady your breathing. Once again it found your fear hilarious, and you halfheartedly glared. He laughed so hard his head rolled off his head, and you watched as it rolled past you, descending into an inky shadow. Its glowing eyes seemed to be seared into your eyelids as you swore you could still see the glow after you blinked. Your attention turned back to Berial’s body as it furiously patted where it’s head once hovered (you noticed it never fully connected with the rest of his body).

You watched curiously as his hat appeared in one of his hands. He reached into his hat, pulling out miscellaneous items. Your amusement grew as the items grew to be more ridiculous. You lost it when it pulled out a gleamtail, the squirrel-like animal looking around confused, your gentle laugh filling the silence. That seemed to be the goal of that act, as he finally pulled his own head out of his hat, plopping both back where they belonged. He bowed again, and this time you did clap, a small grin tugging at your lips. The longer you watched, the more comfortable you became, and the less scary the entity before you seemed. Its acts grew more and more ridiculous, with a scare or two in between.

Yet every show must come to an end. Berial was bowing once again after cutting a shadow creature in half and pretended to have lost its lower half. You clapped, finding yourself enjoying the company of such a strange being, only for the curtains to finally close. The show had been going on for so long that you forgot that there was going to be an end. You felt yourself tense once more, unsure what was going to happen next. Was this it? Were you going to die? He had all his fun and now it was time to get rid of you. You anxiously stayed in your seat, eyes scanning your surroundings. The grandiose room was dark, the lights that lit up the stage were gone and it was hard for you to see much of anything.

“Boo!” Berial popped out suddenly in front of you. You flinched back, his long nose nearly poking your own. His glowing eyes and mouth were the only thing lighting up your surroundings. Giggling lightly, it pulled away, the rest of his body blending in with the darkness.

“You are such a fun human,” It giggled, hands holding its face in what seemed to be fake adoration. “I’m tempted to keep you around.” This seemed to be your way out. Even if you actually had fun, you didn’t want to stick around for too long. Hopefully you could convince him to let you go.

“W-wouldn’t it be more fun to bring me back to Esperia?” You asked, feeling a bit intimidated with his eyes solely on you. “To try and catch me off guard?”

“My, and you’re so smart for a human,” Berial clapped. “Hide and seek does sound fun.” Before you could fully comprehend what he just said, you picked you up from your seat again. He flew you both back where you came, and you had to squint as the sun shone overhead.

…

That was how you found yourself with a Hypogean popping out at you when you’d least suspect it. It was weird, as you thought he’d lose interest in you the second he was gone, but he continued to surprise you. Sometimes as you’d walk to work you’d feel like something was watching you from the shadows, and now you had a reason to worry.

Yet it never seemed like Berial actually meant you any harm. Its giggles trailed after you warmly, its scares becoming more playful than scary, sometimes it would even sweep you into an impromptu dance to a song only it could hear. You found yourself looking forward to your next meeting, eyes trailing to the shadows, watching for any hint of a disturbance within.

Your coworkers had started to avoid you when they could. The sound of bells that used to be associated with the night had now started to be associated with you. Quickly you found yourself to be ostracized, people whispering about you just out of hearing range. You started to feel comforted in the jesters presence. He never failed to cheer you up (or scare you), and he found himself spending more time with you as well.

Typically Berial found people boring. They always reacted the same. Scream, cry, plead for their life. That wasn’t fun. And although his perception of fun was a bit…morbid, he couldn’t help but find you interesting. He hadn’t met anyone who actually laughed at his jokes, who didn’t scream when he tipped not just his hat but his entire head. You were a strange and fascinating human, and Berial found himself wanting to spend more and more time with you, seeing if he could make you pull an expression he hasn’t seen before.

He found himself growing fond of you, something he didn’t think he could even feel! How strange you were for pulling these feelings out of him. It wanted more, its hunger insatiable, wanting to explore those odd feelings. The way it felt warm and fluttery at your laugh, or how its nonexistent heart jumped at any contact with you. Oh, and the way your eyes lit up when it would imitate you, and how silly you were when you would play back. No one had ever tried to entertain the entertainer before!

That was how you found yourself in your current situation. The jester weighed you down as it laid its head in your lap. It made you slightly curious if you could pluck his head up just as he can to himself, but you felt it might be a bit rude if you tried (or maybe he’d like that, it was hard to tell). Instead, you found yourself brushing your fingers through his hair, his top hat resting on top of your own head. He seemed to preen under your touch, his jagged smile as wide as ever, he looked like the cat that got the cream. His tail had wrapped around your waist, and you were slightly curious why he seemed to be so affectionate. He was already odd for a Hypogean, but this was just adding to it.

“Is something the matter?” You asked, fingers trailing down to his dark skin. You half expected your hands to ghost through him as his skin seemed to blend in with the shadows.

“Never been better,” It said with a content sigh. You felt yourself heat up at the implication. Was it really so happy to be in your presence? Receiving your affection? You felt even warmer when it nuzzled its face closer to your hands. “What do you humans call this feeling again? Love?” You spluttered, flabbergasted at what just transpired. Love? Is it serious? Can a Hypogean even love? And a human no less.

“H-huh?” You asked, eyes wide as you stared down at it.

Suddenly, he broke out laughing and you felt your heart clench, “I’ve never seen you look like that before! Oh the hilarity!” Of course he doesn’t love you, he’s messing with you. He’s trying to get a rise out of you. And suddenly you found yourself wanting to leave. No longer did he seem warm like you had thought, but instead the cold monster he truly was. You shuffled, trying to push him off of you, but he stayed firm in his place. For someone so bouncy and light looking, he really could be heavy when he wanted.

“Now now,” Berial continued to giggle lightly. “No need for the dramatics. Do I seem like someone who’d tell such jokes?” You only raised an eyebrow and he broke out in laughter once again. “Ah I suppose you have a point, dear. But truely, I would not joke about such things with you.” You wearily watched him as he sat up and turned to fully face you. Lifting up his hands, he gently grabbed your cheeks and squished them, causing you to send him a lighthearted glare.

“You are a strange human indeed,” He muttered, and a strange seriousness filled his tone. “What do you say, human. Do you feel the same?” Once again you felt your guard rise, unsure if this was another of his jokes or if he genuinely meant what he said. Although his smile seemed permanently imprinted into his features, the ends of his mouth looked softer, smaller.

“Maybe,” You muttered to the best of your ability as his hands continued to squish his cheeks, your eyes couldn’t seem to look away no matter how hard you tried.

“Then I must turn that maybe into definitely!” Berial exclaimed, jumping up with a flourish.

“How are you going to do that?” You asked wearily.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.” And with that, he disappeared with a wink.

Just what have you gotten yourself into?

#afk journey x reader #afk arena x reader #berial afk journey x reader #afk journey berial x reader #berial x reader #afk journey #afk arena #berial afk journey #afk journey berial #berial #x reader

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mayashesfly · 1 month

Text

Radio Killed the Video Star

"HAHA! Fucking finally"

Vox grinned as blood and coolant dripped from the crack on his face.

His suit in disarray after coming into his demon form, skin ripped by his own cords and wires that dug deep in his skin and erupted outside.

He felt his power drain from him as a spark of electricity left the crack on his face.

But he did it.

He defeated the Radio Demon!

Alastor fell on his knees, covering the burnt skin that irritated his angelic scar.

His cane laid broken beneath his feet.

And oh! The fucking irony of this scene! HAHAHA!!! THIS WAS SO MUCH BETTER IN PERSON!!!!

"Y-You're celebrating too early... old pal" Alastor got out through gritted teeth. And Vox merely smiled despite the blurry and fragmented scene before him.

"Oh please. You really think I would let you escape just as easily as last time, Alastor?" Vox asked rhetorically, mocking him as he knows just how difficult and painful it is for the demon to travel through shadows in blinding light.

Especially with how weakened he is now.

"Don't make me laugh"

"HA!" A cough wracked through the radio demon's throat from the laugh, blood dribbling underneath his chin, yet he still continues on with a smile. "Oh please, my old pal. You're the one laughing at your own high for your ego!"

"F-zzt-UcK YOU!" Vox hissed, electricity crackling over his form despite his diminishing powers as he slowly walked over Alastor's prone form, claws moving from the ache in his systems.

"You're just ge-GEtting unDER my sKiN... Beca-caUzzt you lost, you pathetic liTtLE HA-HAzzt-bin"

"How sharp of you to notice something so obvious, my d-dear....!"

Vox paused in his approach as he stared into the distance.

The Radio Demon's quips falling in deaf eyes as his eyes widened.

Ice flowing through his veins despite the warmth of his systems.

Alastor was still talking despite his waning strenght.

But when he noticed Vox stopped responding, he rose a brow and looked behind him.

"Now what's the matter Vox? For you to—"

"MOVE!!!"

The air around him burned as electricity crackled through the air.

Eyes widening upon seeing blue and red color angelic steel.

Ears pinning down as he stared at shocked eyes beneath the cracks and distortions.

Despite it all...

He smiled.

"I'm the only one that gets to kill you..."

That softened gaze disappeared into an abyss of darkness as his old friend powered down for the very last time.

The air crackled.

Not with electricity.

But with magic as he absorbed the ambient radio waves that fueled them both.

"How dare you come between us"

His neck creaked like a broken radio as dials burned in his eyes and green symbols tore through the air around him.

The lights around them flickering before promptly cutting off.

"How DARE you come between us you impudent low life"

Screams erupted from the holy being as shadows soar through the darkened sky, coiling around the angel before ripping them apart limb by limb.

Bright golden blood littered through the air like stars in the night sky.

But the gruesome sight in front of him did nothing to quell the aching hollowness that burned through his chest.

As if he was the one who's been hit.

As if he was the one who died.

His body creaked as if he was the one wailing.

The crackle and crunch of broken bones accompanying his breaking unbeating heart.

When did he start crying?

The shadows wasn't satisfied with the mangled corpse, dragging the body into the void as he curled around the cold form of his old companion.

The wound in his chest burned.

But he paid no mind as he hugged the still frame of his friend.

Stupid, stupid little picture box.

Always making harsh mistakes and emotional decisions that one.

And now he's.... and now he's.......

Alastor gulped down the pooling blood in his mouth as his body turned ice cold.

He had always been cold-blooded despite his deer-like appearance but Vox....

He shouldn't be cold.

He shouldn't be this cold.

Why is he cold?

"You stupid old picture box...."

"Why....? Why did you do it.....?"

"I'm the only one that gets to kill you..."

#may asher writes #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #radiostatic #staticradio #voxal #tw blood #tw violence #tw death #Silly little Vox fumbled at the last step as always

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apompkwrites · 2 years

Text

the betrayal of a god || scaramouche

masterlist characters: scaramouche (platonic) genre: angst contains: spoilers for chapter 3 act iii, scaramouche spoilers, character death, injuries summary: how did things end up this way? how did you go from his beloved sibling to nothing more than a corpse? notes: speedwriting this before the next update comes out >:))) maybe will rewrite as a separate part when it comes out?? we'll see :D also, side note, i like how a lot of you seemed to hope for a good ending for (name)? >:)) you thought wrong~ parts: [the making of a god (1)] || [the betrayal of a god (2)] || [the loss of a god (3)]

the rage that bubbled in scaramouche's body was intense, the feelings coursing through his veins into the mechanical body that was his god form. the traveler darted around effortlessly despite their injuries, which only fueled the anger.

"just die already!" his voice bellowed and echoed throughout the sanctuary, nahida's quiet sobs doing the same, albeit almost silently. the traveler didn't respond with words. instead, they dashed forward to try and pry at the god's body. scaramouche only growled, swiping at the blond(e) with his hand.

"traveler!" nahida cried out as the adventurer skidded across the ground. scaramouche cackled at this, his body towering over the one person who dared stop him.

"how sad," he mused, his body creaking as it moved closer. "the poor little traveler that celestia smiles down upon... will be reduced to nothing but a splatter of blood and guts under my hand."

and with that, scaramouche slammed his fist into the ground. nahida screeched, her small hands banging against the orb surrounding her. the traveler's body, beaten and bloodied, fell into the hole that was created by the attack. paimon screamed their name, falling down into the sanctuary with them.

they let out a quiet groan, shakily pushing their body up from the ground. it was dusty, they noted, the supposed basement of the building containing various objects.

medical equipment was the best way to describe them. tubes and pipes were strewn on the ground, most likely broken prototypes of the ones that held scaramouche in his body. a large box was rolled off to the side, the opening dripping some sort of liquid, as if it were emptied not too long ago.

but what caught the traveler's eye, what made their heart drop to their stomach, what burned itself into their brain for them to dream about at night, was a body.

a body that hung limp in the air, its arms held up by straps that seemed to be attached to the ceiling. its mouth hung open ever so slightly. its clothes were reminiscent of inazuman fashion, albeit the white was now stained to a pink color that barely complimented the light purple accents.

the traveler could only hope the body moved. but it didn't.

over the countless hours they put into adventuring, they had seen their fair share of bodies. they saw human bodies, they saw hilichurl bodies, they saw mitachurl bodies. and the one thing they all had in common was that they didn't move, indicative of the loss of life.

and that was the same for this body.

it was human, yes, but there were the little inconsistencies that made them quite the opposite.

no blood poured from its various gaping wounds, especially the one on its chest. in addition to that, the wounds it had practically carved on its body revealed, not guts, but the other side of the room as if the traveler were only looking through a hole in the wall.

and what unnerved them the most were the eyes. or lack thereof. what stared back at the ground as the body's head lolled to the side, were empty eye sockets. simple black voids were what remained, no red muscle or veins to be seen. it looked as if it were nothing but--

"a doll..." the traveler gasped, managing to limp over to the corpse.

"they were one of the two byproducts of the shogun... those two... are somewhere, i'm sure of it," ei reminisced, mindlessly floating in plane of euthymia. "dolls that were to serve as its prototype."

the telltale marking of electro was barely visible since a large hole took most of its place. paimon let out a shriek, the sound echoing out and up into the main floor of the sanctuary.

"ah," the god breathed as its head peered into the hole. "you're still alive? how dissappoint--"

and, as if a switch had flipped in the god, no, scaramouche's brain, the body fell silent. it merely disappeared back onto the upper floor.

only for a majority of the ceiling, or rather the floor, to be ripped up from its foundation, allowing the large robot-like god to stare down at the traveler like a child at a doll house.

"...no," the word was strained, the most amount of human emotion that traveler had ever heard from him. they were used to the anger he hissed, the rage feeling the slightest bit human. but this was it. the most human sound they had ever heard from the manmade god.

anguish.

"no, no, no," scaramouche cried, the god's hands moving past the traveler to rip the body out of the straps. "no, no, no, no, (name)..." he seemed to sob as he held his hands up to his (the god's) face. it opened upwards like a door, allowing the real scaramouche, the controller, to be seen by the traveler, paimon, and nahida. "(name)... what did he do to you...?"

the body seemed to slump in his hands like a doll. they slumped over the way he always imagined they would if they were... no, no that's not it. they're just asleep! they must have been so lonely. oh, so lonely in that wretched basement.

"(name)," he sniffled, holding out his hands. yes, his hands. not the god's, but his. the god's hands moved closer to scaramouche, allowing him to grasp onto his beloved sibling's arms. he pulled them close, their body holding no resistance as they began to float in the subspace created in the god's head. one of scaramouche's hands moved to lay on their back of their head, cradling it close and pressing their face to the space between his shoulder and neck.

oh, what he would give to feel any sort of life in their body.

"i... i'm so sorry," scaramouche sobbed, the god's face shutting on them, leaving the traveler with the very god they had been fighting for the past couple of minutes (or was it hours?).

now, secluded in the subspace made to mimic their mother's plane of euthymia, scaramouche allowed himself to revert. not to the god, not to the balladeer, but to kunikuzushi.

in the subspace, it was just kunikuzushi and (name), two dolls abandoned by their creator, by their first friend, by their youngest "sibling".

and now, it was just kunikuzushi, who abandoned (name) in his desire to become a god.

the fourth to betray us... was me. it was i who abandoned and betrayed them for godhood.

godhood that i had pled to the doctor for to protect the one person i wanted no betrayal to befall.

and yet... i betrayed them in the end, didn't i?

taglist: @rainys-personal-garden @atsuki-mitsuri @tuskaruska @crxwned-mxnarch @angryhope @quintessentialdreaming @unknown-kitsxne @yu-rylee @local-mr-frog @justreadings @shizunxie @nothing-leave-me--alone @boba-is-a-soup @astro-pioneer

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader

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iamafanofcartoons · 8 months

Text

RWBY Fans talk about what makes RWBY enjoyable for the FNDM.

I want to take a moment to thank the RWBY Fandom for coming together on post

www.tumblr.com/iamafanofcartoons/714857308133441536/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

and discussing why RWBY was an enjoyable show for each of them.

Everyone here had a fantastic reason, and I am grateful to each of you!

@hmvw2015 : For me, RWBY filled the void left behind by Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra.

It’s one of the few shows I’ve seen (aside from Adventure Time) that grows up with its audience.

The fight scenes are so incredible! They’re lightening fast I would have to rewatch the same episode at least twice or thrice! Easily rivaling those done by Studios Gainax or TRIGGER, or Titmouse.

Since every character, place, and object have connections to fairy tales, mythologies, folklore, and classic novels, it did a great job portraying them to their root inspirations. Plus, I’m always digging deep into their designs and backstories.

The music is almost top tier to the music from the Disney Renaissance Era. Maybe even better than that. The songs add another layer of foreshadowing for the characters, and they’re fun to listen to~!

It tackles issues like self-worth, abuse, and death.

The series basically screams “Women’s Rights” and “Gay Rights” and proud of it. :D

www.tumblr.com/hmvw2015/715987868852666368/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@ammy246 :

I've always enjoyed the characters, and I like how there are 4 badass female protagonists who are each enjoyable to watch. I also like how the villains are actually threatening, so the heroes have to put effort into earning victories unlike many works of fiction. The animation always excites me, because you never know what you're going to get. And, don't even get me started on the amazing soundtrack.

@cinnamonrollfuckhead :

it tickles all the right things about me. i got in trouble for reading in classes when i finished my work early at school, it was nearly always history or mythology. i was an ancient Egypt kid. i read outside my age group. if Snapple wanted to employ me to write factoids for their caps i would take it. i was hooked on RWBY immediately despite being older than any of the main characters. i found an unlikely character to relate to in Jaune. i loved how it balanced serious and goofy themes.

@satoshi-mochida :

Some stuff I like about the show is that it's pretty fun and entertaining to watch, has constantly improving writing and animation(the CRWBY recognizing ACTUAL criticism, and working on those), with smarter and deeper than some may think moments, well-done characters, great music and songs, and probably more. I even cosplayed as Jaune(and the 'HuntsMan' with a Wonder-Zwei plush)with my then-girlfriend before COVID hit and other stuff happened, and enjoyed doing that.

@haunted-meatsack :

I'm waaaaay behind but I started watching for the fight choreography, music, and battle skirts. Plus I'm a sucker for small girls who kick ass with GIANT weapons. Then the story and characters kept me coming. I need to catch up.

www.tumblr.com/haunted-meatsack/715895495101497344/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@bumblebyfan :

I like RWBY due to a lot of reasons, for starters, the relationships between the main characters, and how they constantly help each other, I also really like the whole fantasy setting and how funny it is at times, I also really liked how they handled Ruby’s arc during season 9, as someone who has had... intrusive thoughts

www.tumblr.com/bumblebyfan/715730749688561664/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@xlbingo10 :

one thing that i particularly like about rwby is that the characters aren't dumbasses. i feel like so often in shows i watch there's an episode conflict where the characters make an obviously terrible plan that will clearly backfire horribly just for the sake of the episode plot and it's always painful to watch, so it's really nice to watch a show where that doesn't happen.

www.tumblr.com/xlbingo10/715707865708527616/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable.

@sir-somewhat :

I love the cast.

I honestly can't say there is a character I am not fond of in some way and that includes the villians.

I love the idea of semblances and the faunus.

Also I want more faunus lore. Given the existence of the Ever After I have to wonder if the Faunus came from another world created by the Brothers.

www.tumblr.com/sir-somewhat/715323283721076736/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@ghost-of-sparda :

Rwby was a show I found in college that I wasn’t sure I was going to enjoy, but as I watched it- I found myself completely enthralled in the world created by Monty Oum and his friends. It’s story has me on the edge of my seat every episode, and it’s anime vibes make it a treat to watch. It’s not perfect, I will admit that- and there have been times where I didn’t agree with a direction of story telling at first. However there hasn’t been a show that gets me as excited as RWBY does since I was a kid.

If you grew up watching anime, or grew up watching anime- I’d give RWBY a go. If you are still not over the Owl House/ She-Ra/ ATLA/ LOK/ Naruto/ or any other amazing series with crazy fights and an amazing story: I recommend Rwby as your next obsession.

And if you want to give anime a try, but are still dipping your toes into the medium- Rwby is a good half way point for newcomers.

www.tumblr.com/ghost-of-sparda/715237926532956160/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@aspiringwarriorlibrarian :

I really like the characters and their arcs, tragic villains, the triumph of hope and healing, and the fantasy elements.

www.tumblr.com/aspiringwarriorlibrarian/715056039519830016/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@miki-13 : I love how they use fairy tales and myths as inspiration but execute them in really interesting ways, as well as how human and grounded everyone feels while inside such a fantastic setting.

www.tumblr.com/miki-13/715136165044469760/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@thatringboy :

For the same reasons above, I’m also in love with the complex motivations behind the antagonists. Mercury hated the world and needed an enabler, Emerald needed security, Cinder snapped after a lifetime of abuse (just like Mercury), Hazel wanted revenge, Lionhart wanted to save himself, Raven wanted to save herself, Tyrian is just insane (based), Watts wanted petty revenge, Neo wanted revenge but doesn’t know what to do afterwards, CC wants to fulfill their cruel purpose, and Salem just wants to finally die. Torchwick was a comical villain who posed a dangerous threat, the Malachite sisters were doing their jobs, Ironwood was a victim of his own paranoia, Cardin was just racist, Cordovin worships her superiors, the Fennec brothers too, Adam wanted total control over everything and everyone in his life and would stop at nothing to get it, Ilia believed in a cause, Tock was following orders, it’s all so varied and exciting!!

www.tumblr.com/thatringboy/715138435689676800/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@pyrokinetic-murder-hobo :

I honestly fell in love with this project immediately back when the red trailer was first introduced to me.

Though the animation for RWBY was simple and understandably a lot of people regard it as not the best. Even V1 and the original 4 trailers had a living soul to me and there was a certain charm to the characters and the animation.

What kept me coming back is I find myself being unable to predict where the show will go and it honestly keeps me drawn in that my thoughts and predictions are completely circumvented. The show doesn’t follow the trajectory of really any other media and Monty navigated it masterfully.

There’s so many relatable characters and the situations they are put in are approached not perfectly but in a human way as to be a human (even if you have copious amounts of power) means you’ll definitely trip up.

But simply put I’ve loved this project since the beginning with the 4 trailers and could write a dissertation on why I love this show and include a long list of different things I love ranging from OST to characters to design animation. But maybe a talk for another day

And it made me some awesome friends on tumblr of course too which is a major plus (you better know who you are lol)

www.tumblr.com/pyrokinetic-murder-hobo/715072709057478656/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

iamafanofcartoons:

For me, RWBY is a change of pace.

It allows for women to be shown as independent characters, just as smart and strong as male ones.

It doesn’t use fanservice , you don’t have internal monologuing during fight scenes, you don’t have people screaming random attack names, and the music and designs are great.

I appreciate the humor, its not toilet humor or degrading humor like a lot of anime.

It also tackles difficult themes like abuse, leadership, morality, and debate.

It also takes the white male savior trope so common in the fanfics that people use to promote their OCs, and takes a giant dump on that garbage. If anything, when people say “the fanfics are better than the show” you’ll see them promoting a white male savior trope above all else.

Finally? Its a pro-LGBT show on many aspects, which amusingly infuriates a lot of straight shippers who defend their straight white male character who they put on a pedestal.

www.tumblr.com/iamafanofcartoons/715040015347040256/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@grimmgrinningghouls :

for me RWBY is a comfort

It has been for 10 years

I literally would not be who I am today without this show

I'd probably still be a closeted lesbian living in a conservative household with an abusive father

and a mother who hated me

hell I may not even be here

But instead I'm living across the world from them and I'm okay

As okay as I can be

Its helped me through so much and its introduced me to people I have become life long friends with

These funky little lesbians are part of my life and they will be till the day I die

www.tumblr.com/grimmgrinningghouls/715064091163721728/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@snowqueenofmyheart :

Agreed to the above, as well as being able to enjoy a story that centers women in a way that doesn’t reduce them to simplistic tropes or fanservice. I’ve been looking for more female-centered material over the last several years, and stumbling upon RWBY turned out to be a real joy in that regard. Across the board, you have so many compelling female characters, heroes and villains alike. Not to mention two main characters being explicitly in a queer romance is a delight and a relief.

www.tumblr.com/snowqueenofmyheart/715058819349233664/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@youraveragecatastrophe :

well first i love fantasy so we're off to a good start between the monsters heroes and magic

the characters are a very strong point of this show. they're well fleshed out

(even many secondary characters including villains and despite the big cast!)

and they get the opportunity to develop and evolve

i love the themes! love and hope and caring about each other and all that

the fights are really fun to watch especially with the unique weapons and everyone's different fighting style

the story is really compelling and well written too!

also gayness. can't forget the queerness

really this show has everything

www.tumblr.com/youraveragecatastrophe/715058708953071616/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@foulfirerebel :

The music was what first made me get interested in RWBY. The hard hitting rock that also carried quite a bit of meaning into it if you truly took a moment to listen to the lyrics.

So, from there I watched V1 at a friend's house and felt it was good. It did a good job with the action scenes, and setting things up for the characters.

Volume 2, however, is where I truly fell in love with the show. The appearance of Cinder, of Ironwood, the food fight, the investigation into Torchwick and the White Fang, the dance and hacking sequence! Everything pointed to something more going on. Something hidden waiting to spring forth!

V1 was a great entry point, V2 convinced me to stay and hooked me, and when I finally marathoned V3 I was EAGER to watch V4 and onward. Any and all quibbles I may have had melted away when the Fall of Beacon happened.

So, long story short, I love the story. I love how things are built up and come back further down the line (Jaune's issues, Ruby's issues, etc.). I love how the characters do go through a lot and need help getting back up. I love how sincere and earnest everything is without a hint of irony.

I love the slow burn relationships, and that the show doesn't end with those relationships just being established. I love that, despite everything, this one little indie show has continued going past everything that's happened in a decade since it started. I love that the story is engaging, the characters are deep, the writing is great, and that I'm even feeling bad for the villains which I don't normally do.

RWBY may not be the most perfect thing ever, but frankly I love that the writers do see and incorporate feedback into their work. I love that, unlike how Halo or Star Wars do things, you don't necessarily need to have read all the side content to understand things too.

Most of all is I love how this show has improved on every level: animation, writing, voice acting, etc. It's just so refreshing. It's the Little Engine that Could continuing onward and getting better as it goes.

And hey, being a Bumbleby shipper since V3 and being vindicated in V9? Cherry on the sundae. It's been a wild ride, and I'd love it to continue.

www.tumblr.com/foulfirerebel/714989613562904576/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@maor-koren :

RWBY is one of my favorite shows, it take a unique concept and make it very enjoyable to watch.

The main and side characters are all unique in their own way and very enjoyable.

The story is really good.

The animation, fight scenes and the design of the characters and places are all very pleasing to the eye.

And the music is phenomenal.

Don’t let other people make your opinion! look at the show and see for yourself if you like it or not!

www.tumblr.com/maor-koren/714954350873788416/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@but-a-humble-goon :

Rwby is, in a word, earnest. Its characters are unashamedly sincere, affectionate and vulnerable and the show understands not only that these things are not a weakness but that there can be no greater measure of strength. It’s a story overflowing with heart that categorically rejects stoicism and nihilism and never once apologises for itself. Nothing has ever hit me harder and I do mean that.

www.tumblr.com/but-a-humble-goon/714953671346176000/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@mikey-polo420 :

I watched RWBY Because i was drawn in by the trailers when Monty was alive and i liked the idea of cute girls fighting monsters with giant weapons, then i wanted to see their journey through beacon and now i've become invested with the Messages of hope the show presents, i love each of my precious children and want to see them achieve their happiness , i want to support RWBY to it's conclusion because that's what Monty wanted, it's what his friends wanted and they deserve to complete his Brain child.

www.tumblr.com/mikey-polo420/714951464721743872/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@mooninoir :

i started watching when vol. 1 was still going, with a fansub (!) working hell and back to translate each episode as they came out. i remember waiting every week to see a new episode, and when the last episodes came, i was entirely invested in this sci-fi fantasy series with fairytale elements and wanted to know what would happen next.

and, for me, it's an endearing series that i enjoy watching, even with its flaws. it's fun, but it also has a heart. i like how it didn't shy away from telling a broader story. vol. 3's gut-wrenching finale was for me what made me realize i was not there just for the amazing fights and cool soundtrack, but for the characters and how they live in this crazy world. it was amazing to watch its worldbuilding evolve to such great lengths and see the characters i like to grow and learn and evolve along with it. they are done well and don't feel misplaced in the narrative. it just flows nicely and i guess the latest volume proved that to me (the themes, the motifs, the characters' choices, and the visuals) everything comes together, y'know?

and i just... like it. i like rwby. i really do.

www.tumblr.com/mooninoir/714949733681102848/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

Tumblingxelian:

Why do you watch this show?

I watch RWBY for the cool characters, interesting setting and engaging overarching story and arcs, plus some gorgeous animation, sets and awesome music.

What makes it appeal to you?

Women, including queer women, are center stage and given tons of dynamic personality, agency and exploration in ways I rarely see done in other series.

www.tumblr.com/tumblingxelian/714943623381303296/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@feifiefofum :

look, the ad on the tin was cute girls doing violent things and looking great while doing it. that was the impetus for me to follow the show, i was there when it started with the famous red trailer to yellow trailer.

the writing then wasn't bad, a bit condensed because, y'know, shoestring budget so everything was very tight time wise. but y'know, you didn't watch the four trailers and get sold on the story- which was good by the by, but it wasn't exceptional. it was by the numbers, hitting what they need to hit, but good. you didn't think it was spectacular.

but then volume 3 hits you out of nowhere, and you realize, oh, the writing is phenomenal actually.

rwby has deceptively good writing that on the surface is good par for the course that lulls you into complacency, and then manages to sideswipe you with incredible twists that you don't see, but on looking back, the seeds for the twist were planted from book 1 on. the world is slowly and meticulously rolled out to the viewer, the characters shine, and the action, while still spectacular, become secondary to the characters and the world.

i started watching rwby, expecting cute girls doing violent things. and they deliver on that, and if you come watch rwby just for that, it delivers that. i didn't come in for hearty world building, intrigue, and lore so deep you can get lost in it. the writers write on a razor's edge, giving enough lore for a backdrop and setting the stage, but if you decide to dig at any trail, you can get lost in it. the concept of dust, the name of the world itself- frankly i think it's a masterclass in giving enough to keep the story going but having enough in the back that every new twist that they lay out can be found to have grown from a seed that was planted in an earlier volume.

i dunno who traded their soul away to keep track of all that world building and lore, but that excel sheet must be something to behold. rwby throws u-turns that you don't expect at you, lulls you with a sense of 'okay, i see your tricks now' and somehow manages to turn you around again, and have it make sense.

frankly, it's a little frustrating, i've been bamboozled and led by the nose.

and i love it for that. i'm delighted by the ride i'm on, and i hope the show keeps going.

www.tumblr.com/feifiefofum/714920887601790976/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@aspennntree :

I watch rwby for several reasons- mostly for the characters, i find some of them really relatable

also i just genuinely enjoy the story and the visuals and find the show very comforting

i also like the people i’ve met in this community that are kind and i like having people to share my interests with

i’ve made many new friends being in this community and it’s something i’m very passionate about, i just really enjoy it genuinely

www.tumblr.com/aspennntree/714906439613906944/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@tokufan400 :

Even with everything, I can't bring myself to stop watching RWBY. I got back into it after talking with some friends in highschool, and I've been doing my best to keep up with it since. I have love for the characters (Weiss is the best), and I do feel a sence of amazement that a western project like this ha s grown so much. Not to mention the amount of art, comics, manga, and fanfics that have spawned from the show.

Do I have problems with RWBY? Yes. I will probably never stop ranting about something the show does to tick me off. But I do the same for Star Vs and Kamen Rider Zero One, both shows I still hold a love for. Hell, I might do the same for Amphibia and Owl House down the line if I do a re watch.

So yeah, still love RWBY and I want to be around to see how this story ends.

www.tumblr.com/tokufan400/714910475313446912/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@howlingday :

So, I was in high school and I was watching Red VS Blue. Then I started watching Rage Quit. Then Achievement Hunter. Play Pals.

Then my sister and my high school crush were like, hey, try out RWBY. I mocked them by saying "It should be Ar-Dubyoo-Bee-Why". Then I got into it and, well, I liked it the more I got into it until I was caught up to Volume 2. Then Death Battle had the Yang VS Tifa fight (PLEASE, NO REMATCH), and I was rooting for Yang. Then I saw Volume 3, and I was shocked, dismayed, and devastated at the sudden heel turn. I've been hooked ever since.

So, to answer your questions.

I watch RWBY because it's fun, and I want to know where the story goes. I loved the fun had at Beacon, and I want to know what happens next.

The appeal comes from the desire to see these group of friends fight to save the world from the Grimm. I want to see them thrive against a world where everything is stacked against them! And I want to see them flying kick someone in the face to the sound of the most amazing butt-rock since Crush 40 Sonic (No offense MGR)!

So, yeah, I love watching RWBY because it's a story to be told. And I'm going to openly sob when the story finally comes to an end.

www.tumblr.com/howlingday/714865441082851328/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@gorillageek27 :

i watch because, okay i was kinda turned off by it at first, just "what is this anime shit?", but i watched it and it's the most out there animated thing i can think like. Rwby is a show that somehow got me appreicating animated projects and you can tell the writers and animators have fun with it.

www.tumblr.com/gorillageek27/714864574777671680/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@lithominium :

Its endearing, the lack of amazing animation in vol 1-3 is made up for in how much love was put into it. The characters are fun and loveable and the writing is goofy but unlike some other media ive watched its very good at knowing when to keep the tone consistent. Its very gay and i love gay and its got one of the greatest slow burns ive ever seen with great payoffs which always happen when they should. I like the setting and the lore and the weapons and the semblances. Its such a good show

www.tumblr.com/lithominium/714869719134535680/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@everafterfrisk :

I love RWBY for a ton of reasons but to keep it short:

• The Facial Expressions of the characters match really well with the tones of each scene

• Amazing character designs that can just tell you so much about them before you get to know them

•The animation: RWBY imo is best 3D animated series, most of the time 3D animes tend to be stiff and lifeless

But RWBY gives its fights alot of finesse and creativity to go along with

Like here's a few examples:

(V9)

Weiss and Blake using gambol shroud's blade to propel Yang while simultaneously having Yang use Arma Gigas's Sword

www.youtube.com/watch?v=q9RQnk7Oueo

(V3)

Yang closing Flynt's Trumpet making his quartet backfire on him

www.youtube.com/watch?v=bLu3_LKG_A8

(V4 Short)

Ruby using the recoil of her weapon to bounce out of the way from a Grimm and trip him up using her Scythe catching him into a Hurricane formed by her semblance (13:54)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=ivns4_clQ_c

There's even a full in depth analysis on the fight choreography from the earlier volumes to check out

www.youtube.com/watch?v=LMQfm0RsY6o

• Themes of Unity,Self identity,Acceptance,Loving oneself, Finding hope in the most dreadful scenarios and the list goes on

• The Protagonist Ruby Rose is a breath of fresh air similar to say Deku from BNHA where both know the world isn't exactly kind but still try to help the best they can; even if it results in them destroying themselves to get there as their series's goes on

•The Villains are all pretty realistic in their motivations being not afraid to fall victim to arrogance while simultaneously being victims of either the world's actions or their own

°The show doesn't swindle you into thinking that just cuz they have sympathetic backgrounds that they're immediately good

They have to work for it and atone for misdeeds such as Ilia,Emerald and Hazel or doesn't believe their actions are unwarranted like Salem and Cinder or has a lack of empathy for the world around them like Mercury or Tyrian or Wants to do the right thing but lets the ends justify their means(Ironwood) or Living only on the fear of your actions(Lionheart) or The world has dealt so much injustice to you that you felt giving it by ten thousand fold would remedy it ( Ilia and Adam)

▪�� The Music is just PEAK for me

The Sound design,everything just speaks volumes of the scene

www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLS4HvQ5BP-1gKp4Ou4PRkqdEDvnNqdTGS

www.tumblr.com/everafterfrisk/714883876389044224/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@blakistan :

I think RWBY was first suggested to be me on the grounds of “lots of really cool fights” which, while not ultimately the point of the show is still a big plus! Monty was an absolute wizard when it came to fight choreography and CRWBY has done a fantastic job keeping up that legacy. Ofc that was only the thing that got me to look at the show in the first place - what made me stay was the incredibly well done character-driven story. Following along and exploring the arcs of all the different characters in the show helped me through tough times and shaped a lot of who I am as a person today - Blake and Weiss’ stories in particular did so much in helping me find hope that I could grow as a person because that what the show is: hope. So uh yeah, if you like deep, interwoven character narratives that don’t shy away from growth, change, or the ugliness that sometimes crops up along the way with those things, definitely give RWBY a watch

www.tumblr.com/blakistan/714867196992585728/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@proximio-5 :

Tbh, I don't know, there's something about it that I can't explain, I started watching it in 2018, but somehow it's one of my top 3 Favorite animated shows, it can be because of the story or maybe the background, like the people behind it and everything they've done and how far they've come

For example, Monty; first he made the Haloid animation, then he became director of animation in Red vs Blue, and then he created this masterpiece that will be a big part of me

The animation itself is one of the best things about the show, I mean looking back at the style of background in V1 and more recent volumes, saying it has improved would be an understatement, I mean just look at it, you can see how much effort the've done for it

Another reason is the development or the characters, they've changed and matured in many ways. (Speaking of, I really hope Ruby comes back different but keeping at least some of her previous self)

So yeah, this show is far of being perfect, but then again...

What isn't?

www.tumblr.com/proximio-5/714866831427567616/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@kereeachan :

I’m generally a fan of animation, and it’s been neat seeing how it’s improved since volume 3 (when I got into it). The story intrigues me, and I love the wide cast of characters and their development. The alternate universe is a neat one, Grimm are fascinating as a take on Evil Creatures to me, and the designs have always been cool, bar a few that never flew with me (Blake’s 1-3 outfit just kind of always looked a lil too sexy for my tastes on a “huntress” and I initially thought Nora’s 4-6 look was a downgrade before it grew on me)

I really enjoyed Ironwood’s slide from well-intentioned, if incorrect, hero to villain. Honestly his foreshadowing in volumes 2, 3, and 4 was some of the best I’ve ever seen. Maswartz above has commented on how they fool you by having him take facistic actions against people we hate more to hide how far he’s falling fast until we actually GET to Atlas and Mantle and realize it’s gone full Police State (if it wasn’t before). Genius.

I also adored Penny, she was my baby, she was amazing as a character and I’m so happy we got her back for a few more volumes before losing her for good (as much as anyone is ever truly gone, of course, she still looms large over vol 9). As one of the “weird girls” of the world who took a long time to come into my comfort with being a girl due to teasing and bullying (autism, baby. they always know) Penny just always SPOKE to me. I’m glad she not only proved her Real Girl bonafides as a Maiden but even got to live outside a metal body for a few episodes before her death, finally feeling the warmth of a hug.

www.tumblr.com/kereeachan/714863784387297280/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@sevenofreds :

It's a genuinely fun and enjoyable show that can mix multiple genres together without it being jarring. There's action and comedy, there's horror, there's mystery and drama, and it all makes sense for what's happening. It has a layered and complex plot where things almost always turn out to be more nuanced than they first seem, and almost every twist/big event is subtly foreshadowed in some way. The shorter length of episodes compared to other shows also makes it really fun to binge watch.

www.tumblr.com/sevenofreds/714860874339352576/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@crowwrites2140 :

Of course it has its flaws like every other piece of media, but I genuinely find RWBY both entertaining and just a good show in general. I love the "AHA!" moments when you something is revealed that has been hinted at for volumes. I love the music and could listen to it for hours. I love the characters; their designs, their motivations, their relationships with each other and their character arcs that span the show. In regards to the protagonists, I also enjoy how they all seem so human. The writers allow them to make mistakes and fail. They aren't always the perfect heroes. And in regards to the villains, they are believable too. Nearly every one of them has some kind of motivation that drives them to want revenge in destruction. I love the plot, despite its flaws. It's complex and ties in with countless allusions. And lastly, I love the fanbase. Not the toxic side, honestly it makes me sad that a show like RWBY needs positivity posts because its hate fanbase is just so large. But there are so many in the community who are incredibly creative and create hilarious memes, beautiful art, and amazing stories, and I'm grateful to be a part of that.

www.tumblr.com/crowwrites2140/714860089114312704/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@the-god-of-nihon :

RWBY is a special show to me. I’ve been with the series since it premiered at the end of RvB Season 10, and ten years is not an inconsiderable amount of time to be a fan of something. And unlike the “critics” or RWDE, I don’t stick around to hate-watch because of the sunken cost fallacy, or “to learn what not to do.” Or just for a reason to complain, more accurately. I simply enjoy the series. I have since it began, and I still do, and I’ll continue to do so.

While I don’t like everything about the show, or agree with all the creative choices; I don’t automatically assume that something I don’t like is wrong or bad. I happily take RWBY for what it is, and not what I think it should be. I, by no means am blind to the flaws and missteps, but none of them hinder my enjoyment to the degree that I feel like the show overall is a negative experience, even at its lowest points.

I watch the show because I like it. It has been a consistent source of enjoyment for me, and even now. I’ve enjoyed growing alongside it from an indie web-series into what it is today and seeing how it’s changed and improved with every volume.

I enjoy and am invested in many of the characters. I like the world and the bits of world-build and lore we get throughout the main show and supplementary material. And of course I can’t not touch on the fights and character designs. Its vibrant and narrative-relevant use of color, and how that’s effected the shows aesthetic development. And Monty Oum’s classic high-speed, frenetic and intricate choreo, that’s yet to be replicated. And how while different the post-Monty fights are still interesting and engaging for the most part.

I love the depictions of friendship and platonic/familial connection in the show, most prominently for me personally, Ruby & Jaune’s bond. As it’s so rare for a male-female friendship to be purely platonic and still be so genuinely well-written and integral to both characters. Although, I think RWBY is largely hit or miss with the way it handles romance, I think its friendships & familial bonds are where it excels.

Ruby, Yang, and Jaune are my top three favorites characters in RWBY, and how their characters and arcs have been so endearing and intriguing to watch. Especially as since V7, and what is being done with them current.

www.tumblr.com/the-god-of-nihon/714867324298182656/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

@lostdemifiend :

The biggest thing for why I love RWBY so much it is "oh that makes sense!" when something unexpected happens BECAUSE everything was set up previously that would result in this eventually, and none of it feels forced.

At the same time, its gleeful deconstruction of common shonen anime tropes adds to that sense of surprise. Subconsciously, one goes in expecting certain things to happen, but it defies that expectation in a way that feels like a natural consequence.

There's so much more, but I can't even start to unpack just exactly why I love this series so much.

www.tumblr.com/lostdemifiend/714857897499164672/lets-talk-about-what-makes-rwby-good-or-enjoyable

Thank you all of you for showing everyone what makes RWBY fantastic to all!

If you want some youtube channels that discuss RWBY in analytical or philosophic detail? Or if you want comic dubs?

Xel Writer on Youtube aka @tumblingxelian for analysis videos

@marylizabetha on Youtube for philosophy videos

and @markzschiegnerii or Mark Zschiegner on youtube for comic dubs!

I love you, RWBY Fandom, you've made my life rich with joy.

#rwby #rwby is a good show #let people enjoy things #please give rwby a chance #give rwby a chance #mark zschiegner #markzschiegnerii #xel writer #tumblingxelian #marylizabetha #iamafanofcartoons

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cosmicghafa · 2 months

Text

i’m on season 4 episode 15 of suits and holy SHIT I NEED TO UNPACK.

THE DARVEY CONTENT IN THIS EPISODE IS INSANE I NEED A MINUTE TO BREATHE HELLO??????

1.DONNA APOLOGIZING AND HIM LITERALLY GETTING RAGED BY HOW MUCH HE CARES ABOUT HER ?????

d- “i’m sorry harvey”

h- “i know you are but this just got a thousand times harder to get out of”

d- “you mean for you to get me out of”

h- “donna you of all people should understand by now that to me theyre the same thing.”

HELLO??????? MR SPECTER YOURE LITERALLY IN LOVE WITH HER????

2. THE CONVERSATION BETWEEN HIM AND MIKE

h- “well you got the job done by risking her.”

m- “and how is that different to all the times you risked me?”

h- “because she’s different.”

3. DONNA BEING SCARED AND BASICALLY BEGGING FOR HIM TO TELL HER HE CARES AND COMFORT HER?????!!?!? HIM IMPLYING HE DOES CARE AND WOULD FALL TO HIS KNEES IF SHE EVER GOT ARRESTED????? EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO SCREAM INTO A VOID

4. THE. ENDING. SCENE. WHERE. FADE. INTO. YOU. IS. THE. BACKGROUND. SONG. DONNA THANKS HIM??? AND HE ??????

“i told you i’d never let anything happen to you and i wont ever, so you dont ever have to feel scared like that again.”

AND THEN THE;

d- “i’m sorry i doubted you”

h- “i’m sorry i snapped at you. anyone else ever loses faith in me, it doesnt matter, with you its different.”

he literally. just. implied. that. her. opinion. is. the. only. opinion. he. cares. about. and. when. she. wanted. louis. to. take. the. case. he. was. hurt. because. he. couldnt. stand. the. thought. of. her. not. believing. in. him.

the looks. they exchanged. in this scene. that was literally donna realizing that shes in love with him and him saying he should leave bcs he just realized that what he just said made him feel something. ???????

and then LASTLY

the “why?” donna asks after he says with her its different.

and him replying “you know why.” AND THE PAUSE AND THEN “you know i love you, donna.”

HARVEY SPECTER WHEN I CATCH YYOOOUUUUU?!?!?! IM LITERALLY FALLING TO MY KNEES

i’m gonna jump off a cliff i love them so bad this is the best slowburn i’ve watched ever????????

#suits tv #darvey #harvey specter #donna paulsen

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gorgon-heap · 8 months

Text

I Thank You: A Brief Account of Sonic’s No Good Terrible Very Bad Day (and Shadow’s even worse day)

@son1c’s sonic prime au has been jingling around my brain like a loose marble (especially the splinters of shadow), and this ask from @boom-fanfic-a-latta inspired me to actually sit down and write it :D

~~~

The first thing Shadow noticed was the noise.

It was hard not to notice it, honestly. The eerie silence of the Void was disconcerting, but this was something Shadow had never encountered before. This was an oppressive wall of sheer sound that filled the air and slammed into his ears the minute he entered the Boscage.

It knocked the wind out of him, and he sunk to his knees as he tried to regain his composure.

Dimly, he heard Sonic buzzing around him, jabbering about something. Shadow could only grit his teeth in response.

It’s so loud….How does Sonic not hear this?

He clapped a hand over his mouth in a desperate attempt to ground himself, to experience anything other than the oppressive sound. It didn’t work.

“Shadow? You alright?”

Shadow let out a shaky breath, and it took great effort for him to stop his ears from twitching. The last thing he needed was Sonic worrying about him.

“I’m fine. It’s just adjusting to a new Shatterverse.” Shadow forced himself to his feet. “Tell me about this world?”

Sonic didn’t look convinced, but didn’t press the issue. “The Bocage is entirely take over by huge plants. The forest floor is entirely inhospitable to life, and that means that—“

Plants. It couldn’t be.

Could it?

He felt a tear escape and leak down the side of his face. He was vaguely aware that Sonic, who had been staring at him with concern, had tracked that tear’s path with his eyes. But Shadow had bigger things to worry about. He, and probably he alone, could hear the Boscage.

And it was screaming.

~~~

It had been a few days. Some of the worst days of Shadow’s existence. Boscage Maze was a blur. The residents of the Boscage were a blur. The only thing that was clear was, paradoxically, the murmur of the forest. As it turns out, when billions of plants whisper in someone’s mind, it results in a cacophony, and the worst headache Shadow has ever had.

He was beginning to have trouble remembering why he was there, his goal in coming here, and even who he was. He just shuffled behind Sonic as they navigated the jungle.

Today, they were visiting….somewhere. Egg…something? Shadow couldn’t remember, but Tails was leading the way. Or, this Shatterverse’s Tails. His head hurt too much to care.

He was also didn’t care when he met Windthrow. A tiny voice at the back of his mind reminded him that, but for the Deafening Sounds, he would have been astounded.

A larger, stronger, and more feral Sonic. Would wonders ever cease.

Shadow was roused from his thoughts as they arrived at their destination. It was an unassuming structure, with vine tendrils snaking around, but generally well kept. As they walked through the entryway, he absently noted that the design reminded him of the Ark.

They stepped into the entryway, and the doors swung shut, leaving their little group in the quiet hallway.

And it was quiet. It was utterly silent.

He felt his shoulders sag in relief. He didn’t realize how awful the noise was. It didn’t even bother him that there was a slight buzzing from the overhead lights.

“Shadow, everything alright?” Sonic’s voice boomed in his ears. It hurt, and made his ears twitch, but he welcomed it.

Shadow nodded slowly. He still felt a little dazed, but it was a relief to be able to think clearly for the first time in what felt like forever.

~~~

Sonic was worried.

Well, he was worried about a lot of things. This was an extremely bad situation, and he was well aware that that was an understatement. But in particular, Sonic was worried about Shadow. He was acting more reclusive and irritable than usual. Which was saying something.

Whenever they were at the Egg Base, Shadow disappeared, even though Sonic looked everywhere in the building. And when they were outside, he acted distracted and upset. Every time Sonic asked him what was wrong, he would respond (in true Shadow fashion) with a snappish “Nothing”. But his constant ear twitching and eyes darting back and forth belied his distress. So did his muttering under his breath.

Sonic had decided not to continue pestering him. He instead focused all his attention and worry on finding the Shard.

The sooner we find it, the sooner I get Shadow out of here. The sooner I fix my stupid mistake.

Currently, they were in the Egg Base, and surprisingly, Shadow was hanging out with the group. Sonic was grateful to see that he looked relaxed, even if it was only a little bit. The weird dude who looked kind of like Eggman was showing off his latest creation, which was a metal version of Windthrow.

But as Metal Windthrow was powered on, Sonic was distracted by a faint gasp behind him. He turned and saw Shadow standing there completely rigid, chest heaving and eyes darting wildly. His ears wouldn’t stop twitching. He locked eyes with Sonic, before he fled the room.

Sonic got up to follow up, but stopped when he felt a large paw on his shoulder. Windthrow excitedly pointed at his metal counterpart, and threw back his head and howled. Metal Windthrow followed suit, and his rusty howl joined Windthrow’s. Sonic couldn’t help but smile fondly at what was soon to be a fast friendship. His smile fell as he turned and strode out of the room, determined to find Shadow.

~~~

He didn’t see Shadow for days after that, until one day Sonic entered the dining room. Shadow was standing at one of the tables, poring over the map that they had crudely drawn.

“Shadow! There you are! Are you alright? You disappeared! I’ve been looking everywhere for this Shard but haven’t found anything yet. Hey, what do you think—”Sonic’s nervous rambling was cut off by Shadow’s voice, which was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Sonic. Everything is okay. I just needed some to adjust to the Boscage Maze.” At this, Sonic frowned and opened his mouth, and closed it again. He sat down at the table, watching Shadow’s green eyes rake over the map. He looked—well, calm. But at the same time, he didn’t look well adjusted at all. He still had a dazed look, and there were heavy bags under his eyes.

“Are you sure? You can rest today, and we can go look tomorrow!” Shadow gave a small, fond smile, and Sonic felt his concern tie itself into knots in his stomach.

“We are fine, and in fact quite like being outside among the trees. It’s like coming home.” He turned and strode towards the door. “Let us go now and find Thorn Rose. Finding the Shard is our top priority.” Sonic pushed his worries aside. Shadow was right. The Shard was the most important thing.

Over the next couple of days, Shadow took charge of searching the Shard. He would stay out long after Sonic returned to the Egg Base for the night, and would even be gone before he woke up in the morning. He knew that Shadow was the Ultimate Loner, but he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. There was something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, something he was missing. And it had everything to do with the strange way Shadow was acting.

~~~

Sonic burst into the clearing, almost crashing into Shadow in his excitement.

“Shadow, there you are! I have a good lead on the Shard! We can grab it and fit the prism back together! We’re one step closer to going home!” Shadow looked up sharply with a glint in his eyes that made Sonic uneasy. As quick as it had appeared, Shadow’s face had smoothed back into that same calm expression he had had for the past couple of days.

“That’s good to hear, Sonic. But we don’t need to rush things. The Boscage is truly wonderful. I’m glad to have been able to experience it. In fact, we are sorry for our past anger. You see, it wouldn’t have existed if you hadn’t shattered the Paradox Prism. So, how could I be angry? I thank you, Sonic the Hedgehog.”

I thank you.

Sonic’s blood ran cold.

Shadow…

He took a step towards who…or whatever was controlling Shadow. “Who are you! What have you done with Shadow!”

‘Shadow’ just smiled. “We are Shadow. It would be rude to ignore this gift you have sent us. You have granted us a way to communicate with you, and a way to protect the Boscage.”

Sonic’s shoulders slumped, his chin hitting his chest.

Shadow…what have I done to you?

#unceremoniously knocks the rust of my creative writing skills #it’s been like the worst week of my life so i am coping by putting shadow in a jar and shaking him around #i didn’t know how to write either windthrow or metal windthrow so i just. didn’t lol sorry #might make a part 2 with the specific stuff the plants say to shadow after they like. fully possess him #so if you want a part 2 lmk :)#and thank you lovelyn! your au is awesome :D #also tagging boom fanfic a latta bc it was her ask that inspired me to write this so thank you :)#side note i don’t rly know how to format fanfic on tumblr lol :P #sonic the hedgehog #sonic prime #shadow the hedgehog #jackassery #son1c #tenya

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therealdeathoracle · 1 year

Text

I have a bunch of quotes from my old coworkers at my last job so I made incorrect quotes from the bsd characters. If this one is liked I can make another with quotes from my family I also have

Ranpo: “Jesus Christ it’s Pretzel Borne.”

——————————————————————————

Kenji: *accidentally kicks the water fountain*

Atsushi: *holds out hand* “Stop it.”

——————————————————————————

Kunikida: “Don’t worry, we made it, Dazai’s gone.”

——————————————————————————

Dazai: “Olaf doesn’t turn me on, but Sven does.”

——————————————————————————

Akutagawa: *in the distance and very unenthusiastically* “Run Forest run.”

——————————————————————————

Nikolai: *in a bad Russian accent* “OH MY GOATS! FYODOR, BRING IN THE AR15!″

——————————————————————————

Atsushi: *playing with a cup of straws*

Kyouka: *takes the cup away to put more straws in it*

Atsushi: *trying to grab the cup* “Why?!”

Kyouka: *hands the cup back*

Atsushi: *knocks cup over and throws straws everywhere* “Am cat.” *runs away*

——————————————————————————

(All over a radio)

Fukuzawa: *talking loudly*

Ranpo: *cringes really hard*

Fukuzawa: “Mind your business Ranpo.”

Ranpo: “You’re making my ears bleed, Fukuzawa.”

Fukuzawa: *quieter* “Oh, really?”

Ranpo: “Yeah, it’s fine though.”

Fukuzawa: *whispering* “Oh you sweet child, I am so sorry.”

——————————————————————————

Ranpo, Kenji and Dazai: *chanting cheese*

——————————————————————————

Teruko: “Jouno was in a good mood today.”

Tachihara: “Oh? Something must’ve happened, did Tecchou die?”

——————————————————————————

Dazai and Ranpo: *aggressively singing Africa*

Atsushi: *starts playing Africa on his phone*

——————————————————————————

Chuuya: “Hi, would you mind signing your rights away real quick?”

——————————————————————————

Tecchou: *whispering* “Jouno”

Jouno: *screaming from the other side of the building* “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT NOW TECCHOU?”

——————————————————————————

Ranpo: “DAD NO!” *oven starts screaming*

——————————————————————————

Kunikida: “The world is gonna end in 3 months, but you don’t care! You don’t care about inflation!”

——————————————————————————

Yosano to Dazai: “If you fall on the box cutter and bleed out and die then can we use you as a promotion for Suicide Squad?”

——————————————————————————

Dazai: “What’s the best way to traumatize a child? Shave their head!”

——————————————————————————

Kunikda: *puts an American flag pin he found on the floor on his shirt and immediately takes it off* “Actually in hindsight I don’t want someone to think I’m a crazy republican... I’ll give it to Dazai.”

——————————————————————————

Chuuya: “Have fun.”

Akutagawa: “I won’t but thank you though.”

——————————————————————————

Kyouka: “Do you want to see my PowerPoint on Halloween costumes?”

——————————————————————————

Nikolai: *in a bad Italian accent* “It’s a me a Mario you dirty ass bitch!”

——————————————————————————

Akutagawa: “Are you having fun?”

Gin: “No... are you?”

Akutagawa: “No.”

——————————————————————————

Dazai: “I do need serious help, but not for this.”

——————————————————————————

Ranpo: “My mouth is like a popper.” *starts making pop cat sounds*

——————————————————————————

Atsushi: “Kyouka! You’re fucking crazy!”

Kyouka: *holding an extremely hot piece of metal with her bare hands* “I’m sorry?”

——————————————————————————

Ranpo: *sitting on the floor in a massive pile of popcorn* “So... uh... Santa’s sack broke?”

——————————————————————————

Yosano: *finding out she has covid at 11:59 on New Year’s Eve* “WELL HAPPY NEW YEAR I GUESS!”

——————————————————————————

Ranpo: “WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO?”

——————————————————————————

Kenji: “Let’s play Pictionary!”

Dazai: “Oh no.”

Kenji: “AND NO IT IS NOT A PENIS!”

——————————————————————————

Chuuya: *high out of his mind* “I am not high, I am medicated.”

——————————————————————————

Fukuzawa: “I AM THE PRESIDENT!”

——————————————————————————

Akutagawa: “Why do you need a little hole?”

Chuuya: “Just in case, you know?”

——————————————————————————

Dazai: *stamps Kunikida with a void stamp* “You didn’t get a D!”

Kunikida: *grabbing his pants* “Then what’s this?”

Dazai: “Not a D.”

——————————————————————————

Tecchou: “Cooled pillow water would be a great invention.”

Jouno: “I am terrified by what cooled pillow water could be.”

——————————————————————————

Chuuya: “What kind of boss do you think I am? A good one??”

——————————————————————————

Gin: “Behead him!”

——————————————————————————

Chuuya: “What did you say to me?”

Akutagawa: “Gin said you’re the coolest guy she’s ever met.”

Gin: “No no, get your facts straight. I said, YO CHUUYA THE COOLEST MOTHERFUCKER I’VE EVER MET!”

Chuuya: “Now that’s more accurate.”

——————————————————————————

Tecchou: *still talking about what cooled pillow water would be*

Jouno: “You are not going to convince me that you didn’t piss on your pillow and are trying to make up for it.”

——————————————————————————

Fukuzawa: “Do I ask why you chose to play a female gnome and not a male?”

Ranpo: “We needed a minority.”

——————————————————————————

Ranpo: *extremely offended* “Do you not like pepper on your salt?”

——————————————————————————

Dazai: “Chuuya is a World War II!”

——————————————————————————

Kenji: “As an empath I sense you’re having love troubles.”

Dazai: “Nah man that’s just the depression.”

——————————————————————————

Chuuya and Dazai: *Thursday, August 25th 2022, 2:30pm-9:00pm... Incident: The “Fuck You” Day*

——————————————————————————

Dazai: “You know what?... Unfucks your mom!”

Akutagawa: “My mom?”

Dazai: “Yes.”

Akutagawa: “Ok.”

——————————————————————————

Chuuya: “I just fucking wanna get these balls in... DON’T take that out of context!”

@stinkyme

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clonemando · 3 months

Text

@blackat-t7t Here is your Fox/Thorn H/C with a cuddle pile at the end. Enjoy.

There was a ringing snap as the old rusted barrier along the walkway gave out under the weight of a fully armored trooper crashing into it and Thorn watched as Fox’s gaze met his own wide with fear before he was falling backward over the edge. Thorn dove for him with a scream but his fingers barely brushed over Fox’s chestplate before his partner was gone swallowed up by the dark depths of Coruscant’s seemingly endless levels the same way many cadets ended up swallowed by Kamino’s waves.

For a moment he just stared feeling a void echoing the one he was staring at being torn open in his chest. Then Rex’s voice broke him from his daze.

“I didn’t mean- I didn’t- Thorn I- Fox-” He struggled to get anything out, horror replacing the rage that had been on his expression just minutes earlier as he corned them on their patrol to yell at Fox for avoiding him.

“You didn’t mean to kill him? Like he meant to kill Fives you mean? Well, you did. Guess you’re the brother killer now, Rex. Congratulations on your revenge.” Thorn said, voice level and empty as he watched Rex flinch and step back.

“What- What do we do now? Do we call-” Rex started eyes flickering around as if looking for some sort of help.

“Call who Rex? The Guard? I am the Guard and there’s nothing I can do now. He’s gone. He’s not a person, there won’t be an investigation. He’s not the first we lost over an edge and he won’t be the last and there’s never anything to do. You just… finish your patrol. Report the lost republic property to the Chancellor and put a few troopers on double shifts until we can get a replacement from Kamino.” He said starting to walk again. He had to finish his patrol. He was already late now and Fox would be upset if Thorn got himself punished for being late.

“You can’t just… just keep working! Shouldn’t you call Thire or something? There’s bereavement leave. The Kaminoans even approved it to keep their products at their most effective. The Jedi-” Rex started as he followed Thorn and finally he snapped.

“If you have forgotten, the Guard doesn’t have a Jedi. We had Fox. That’s it! We had Fox and he could only get us so much because he’s not considered a person either! Now we don’t even have him and we will all need to take triple shifts to cover all the stuff he has been shouldering on our behalf! I don’t have anyone available to cover this patrol. That’s why Fox and I were doing it. We just lost three shinies to senators and a full team was wiped out in a gang raid the week before. We don’t get things like leave or whatever the kriff bereavement is. The Guard belongs to the Senate, the Jedi abandoned us, just like you GAR bucketheads. So kriff off and go cry to your jedi for your extra days off and let me take care of my family. You’ve done enough Rex.” He spat darkly before turning on his heel and continuing his patrol. Rex didn’t follow him this time.

He raised his wrist to access his coms after another ten minutes.

“This is Commander Thorn reporting a 9-12 slash D. Commander Fox was lost to faulty railing in Sector 12-A. We will discuss promotions and schedule changes at the dawn shift change. As his second the Marshal position falls to me now. Carry on with your duties.” He murmured numbly before letting his arm fall and continuing to move on autopilot almost hoping the Separatists would chose to attack now so he’d have an excuse to shoot something. But the rest of the patrol was quiet.

Fox was exhausted. He had spent the last two days slogging through filth and fighting off the weird pollution corrupted creatures that prowled the lowest levels just to make his way to the closest working lift. Then he had to sit on the floor listening to the worst possible sort of music as he slowly ascended out of the dark toward his family and home. His arm was definitely broken and Shark was going to shoot him up with every hypo they had with complaints about the bite wounds he had getting infected but Fox was pretty sure he had gotten off easy.

He couldn’t explain how he was alive. The concussion made it hard to think straight but even with that he knew he had to have fallen at least 100 levels if not more. But at the last minute something had caught him and slowed his fall enough the injuries were survivable. He didn’t really take stock in the Jedi’s fancy force shit but maybe there was something out there looking out for him.

Once he was above the com-cut line where they lost signal to their coms he immediately reached out. “This is Commander Fox. I am injured and will need a medic and pick up from the lift in Sector 12-D, could someone also bring me some caff? I’m kriffing tired.” He grumbled into the line and smiled when it immediately started blowing up, resting his head against the side of the lift and letting his family’s furies and delighted voices wash over him like a warm blanket.

“Cut the chatter! Fox, Shark and I will be waiting for you once you reach the top. I… It’s good to hear from you but you have a lot of explaining on how you’re alive.” Thorn’s voice finally cut in and Fox’s smile grew.

“You’re going to be waiting until the Senate turns for that answer my rose, I have no kriffing clue. Woke up at the bottom with a concussion, broken arm and some jostled ribs but I was able to drag myself up and start walking to the lift not too long after the fall.” He sighed not even realizing he had used his pet name for Thorn until the line filled with cooing from the rest of the guard.

Fox passed out not long after that and only woke up again when Thorn was lifting him out of the elevator and onto a hover-cot and Shark started cursing him out. He squeezed Thorn’s hand then passed out again.

He flickered in and out of consciousness a few more times before finally waking up feeling better than he had felt in years. Blinking open his arms he was unsurprised to find Thorn plastered to his side and Hound using his stomach as a pillow. Shark must have allowed them to take him to the barracks at some point because he was laid out in the middle of the three mattresses they had shoved together at the beginning of the war so they could all sleep together and he was buried under his Guard.

“I thought… I thought you were gone for good. I thought I lost you.” Thorn’s voice was soft with fear and sleep and Fox ran his fingers through the long blond curls.

“Told you I was too stubborn to die. Can’t get rid of me that easily. I still have to scare the Senate into giving us rights so I can marry you one day.” He said with a small smile and Thorn sighed.

“While you were gone I shot the Chancellor. We’ve been dressing up in his robes and pretending he’s got the cornellian flu until we figure out what else to do but now you’re back it’s your problem. I’m taking a thing Rex told me was called bereavement.” Thorn said and Fox’s eyes opened fully from where he had started drifting off again.

“YOU DID WHAT?! THORN! I was gone two days!” He shrieked.

“He implied you were better off dead and I was in mourning. There’s scientific data proving making people work through grief lowers productivity. It’s not my fault!” Thorn whined and nuzzled his face in Fox’s neck while Fox tried to wiggle free but he couldn’t move from how he was buried under so many siblings.

“I’m going to kill you once I’m free. I’m going to kill all of you!” He growled but they all ignored him in favor of continuing their nap.

#star wars #fanfic #the clone wars #tcw #the coruscant guard #my writing #commander thorn #commander fox #sw tcw #hurt/comfort #clone shipping #Fox/Thorn #requests

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