#I was literally making it lower on purpose in those first two and I still sounded like that lol

[caitrose]

IVE BEEN ON T FOR A WHOLE YEAR!! ヽ(^◇^*)/

Damn I really used to sound like that

(They/them pls and thank u ^-^)

[callsign-rogueone]

together

platonic! Xaden x gn!reader x Garrick words: 1.3k 🏷: prequel flashback that contains mild fourth wing and iron flame spoilers, 17-18 y/o Xaden and Garrick and gender neutral reader who was their childhood friend (this could be angel, but I purposely left it vague) hurt/comfort, reader dressing Xaden's wounds and brief mentions of blood, tears, fluffy ending (who doesn’t love a good old fashioned friendship cuddle/nap pile?)

The knock on the door of the room you’ve been assigned pulls your focus away from the book in your hands that you haven’t really been reading, just looking at the pages absentmindedly; you can’t bring yourself to enjoy it, not with everything else going on around you.

You know it’s Xaden from the rhythm -- he’s using the secret knock you and Garrick had come up with as children; the same basic pattern, ending with one tap for him, two for Garrick, three for you, and four for Bodhi; your age order.

“Come in,” you call.

You aren’t expecting him to look so dejected, his shoulders slumped and head hung, looking utterly defeated, shirt off, held limply in his hand. “Talk to me,” you say gently, immediately concerned.

“I’d do it myself, but I can’t see them,” he says quietly, turning to show you the bloody cuts covering his back.

Your jaw drops. There has to be…

“One hundred and seven,” he answers before you can ask. One for each of you. They’d turned a respected tradition for marriage and parenthood into a punishment, carving into his skin over and over, deep enough to make sure it would scar.

“Oh, Xay…” you breathe, stunned.

“I cut a deal. We’re safe,” he responds. “All of us. But we’ll be forced into lives of service to the crown as dragon riders.”

You don’t fully process the terms, too busy digging around for a first aid kit. There’s one in nearly every room of this house, a military protocol that his father had taken quite seriously.

He sits on the edge of the bed and hunches forward, resting his elbows on his knees and lowering his head as you work in silence, cleaning and disinfecting all of the cuts as delicately as you can, but he still flinches away from the sting of the alcohol against his raw skin.

“I’m almost done,” you promise.

He doesn’t respond. You don’t expect him to; he’s never been particularly chatty, but you know there’s a storm brewing behind those dark eyes right now, but you’ll be there for him when it starts.

You coax him to sit up a bit so you can wrap the gauze, wrapping him in it from shoulder to waist to cover all of the cuts, and helping him put his shirt back on.

The pain of getting his arms through the sleeves is the last straw -- he finally starts to cry.

You know hugging him would just cause him more pain, and you can’t stroke his back, not wanting to put any pressure on the torn skin, so you settle for petting his hair, smoothing your fingers through the dark strands and gently rubbing the back of his neck to relax him.

“C’mere,” you coax, leaning back against the headboard and setting a pillow in your lap.

With a soft sound of discomfort, he shifts his weight down, resting his head on your lap and wrapping his arms around your waist, clinging to you tightly. His body shakes with sobs as his fingers dig into your skin, and you feel like your heart has been ripped in two.

You‘ve only seen Xaden cry once before, when you were ten, and his mother’s marriage contract expired, giving her the right to leave Tyrrendor and leave Xaden’s life forever, disappearing without a trace. You’d held him like this then, too, let him sob into the collar of your shirt and spent the rest of that day sitting with him and Garrick in near-silence, trying not to cry over the loss yourselves, needing to be strong for your friend.

His mother had always been kind to the three of you. She’d loved Xaden dearly, and appeared to tolerate Fen, with no obvious signs that she wanted to leave, but nonetheless, she’d taken the chance and ran with it, literally. It remained unclear if Xaden had gotten to say goodbye — he likely hadn’t, given the extent of his distress, probably hearing the news from his father before he ran to find the pair of you.

You realize now that it might not have been her decision, that Fen might have asked her to leave. But you’ll never know for sure — he, along with your parents, is lost to you forever.

You don’t tell him it’s okay, because it isn’t, but you need to say something, to acknowledge his pain and the sacrifice he’d just made for you and all of your friends, for people neither of you have even met.

“I know it hurts, X,” you soothe, stroking a hand through his dark locks as he continues to sniffle quietly. “I’m so sorry they made you do that. I’m sorry for everything. You didn't deserve any of it. None of this was your fault."

The door opens with a soft creak, Garrick stepping inside. His eyes widen at the sight of Xaden still trembling, clinging to you and crying, which is disturbing enough in itself, without the open first aid kit on the nightstand next to you and the pile of bloody cotton balls that you’d used to clean his wounds.

“Uallach,” you whisper. Responsibility.

Garrick puts it together quickly enough — Xaden was forced to take the traditional cuts for all of you. He sits beside you both on the arm of the couch, quiet. “I’m so sorry, Xay,” he says softly, brushing a hand over the other boy’s shoulder, careful not to nudge the bandages. 

Xaden adjusts his hold on you, reaching out with one arm — the one bearing the same relic you’re all stuck with now, that smoky black pattern that covers the skin — wincing at the way the motion tugs the cuts on his back. He takes Garrick’s hand in his, holding it silently, a gesture with multiple meanings; a bid for comfort, wanting to have his best friends close, but also a reminder that the three of you are in this together, and an apology; in his deal with the general to save your lives, he’d been forced to agree to all one hundred and seven of you enrolling in Basgiath war college as dragon riders — a death sentence of its own.

“We’ll all be okay,” Garrick promises softly. “We’ll heal, and we’ll adapt, and get through it all, together.”

Xaden’s tears have dried, leaving him with a headache and that hollow feeling you get after a thorough cry. He feels heavier against you, a sign that he’s drifting toward sleep. Good. Rest will help him heal, and give him a break from this exhaustion.

Garrick takes a pillow from the other side of the bed, motioning for you to sit up a little. You move incredibly carefully, not wanting to disturb Xaden in his delicate state, but thankfully he doesn’t seem bothered by it, too worn out to notice or care as Garrick places the pillow behind your back to make you more comfortable.

“How are you feeling?” he asks quietly. 

“Tired,” you answer. 

“We could all use some sleep,” he concedes, kicking off his boots and shrugging off his jacket, cuddling up against the both of you.

You hum in agreement, fighting a yawn. You haven’t been able to rest much this week, constantly working to take care of the younger children, and the sleep you did get has been plagued by nightmares of the days prior — you’re exhausted. 

You hope Xaden’s dreams will be kind to him — he looks peaceful, still breathing steadily. 

“Get some rest,” Garrick says softly. “Tomorrow will be a new day, and we can start figuring all of this out then.”

You let your eyes drift shut, leaning your head against his muscled shoulder. You’re all going to be sore when you wake up from sleeping like this, bar Xaden, who looks perfectly comfortable where he’s curled up between you like an overgrown puppy.

Garrick is right. The three of you will get through this, together.

[demonlovingsheep]

Which brother has the highest kill count in Obey Me? How and why they kill? This is what I think:

Lucifer. He is very strict, prideful, and very powerful. He caused the most casualties in the Celestial War no doubt. In the beginning of his demon years, lower demons would purposely get in his way to challenge him. The first one who tried did not live to tell the tale. The second one follows the fate of the first one. One by one, thousands by thousands would continue to increase Lucifer’s body count to the millions until lower demons finally got the message that he is not to be messed with. As for human casualties, I doubt there is a lot since he doesn’t like the taste of human flesh. If he was summoned by a cult or something, he is going to have fun manipulating those foolish souls. After all, he is a sadist.

Beelzebub. He is Lucifer’s body guard in the Celestial Realm, a Cherub that is one of the highest in terms of rank. Due to his strength, he can easily crush his opponents. When he became a demon, all his victims became his meal during his hunger rampage. His sin took full control of his body in the beginning and most of the time he wouldn’t know what’s happening until one of his brothers stops him or he has no other food source available. He probably does the same up in the human world when summoned by a cult if they don’t offer him a big enough meal as offering, then they become the meal themselves. When MC meets him in the original timeline, he still tries to eat us and we’re not allowed to sleep or be near him without another brother’s supervision. Even the brothers were afraid one of their toes was gonna be bitten off.

Leviathan. “Keep sending your soldiers. The ocean has plenty of space before it run out of gravesites for your people.” He controls the ocean, just sends out a tsunami or two and wipes every being away and let the corpse fall to the bottom to be eaten. Even if the victim has the ability to breathe underwater, he would summon Lotan to obliterate them. He never has to get handsy to increase his kill count. He does snack on a couple of humans that've been swept into the ocean by currents.

Satan: He unleashed hell when he was born, being the embodiment of wrath itself. He was separated from Lucifer and his other brothers when they fell. Since there is no one strong enough to hold him back, he wreaked havoc on anything and everything. He set the area around him into a green fire graveyard until he was eventually found and gets chained and shoved in a locker. He gets ticked off when summoned, and if it was for a stupid reason. If they mistaken him for Lucifer, which is pretty often, no one would live to tell the tale. It took decades for them to learn that he is not that damn arrogant bastard.

Asmodeus: Personally, I was conflicted between him and Mammon, but Asmodeus can snap more easily than Mammon. Even though he is the avatar of lust, he still has standards and boundaries. Most lower demons think he is easy to manipulate. Just compliment him, take him to a motel or bar, and get him when he’s vulnerable. The thing is that Asmo knows, and he has his own wicked plan in mind. Depending on his mood, he can either toy with the other demons for such a long time that the other demon will actually develop some feelings for him, all for it to crumble in the end. Like a heartbreak, but with their hearts literally removed and in Asmodeus’s hands. Asmo will still laugh and feign innocence like he hadn’t just gone sicko lover mode. Or he just snaps and completely loses it, charming the other person to bash their own skull against a wall until they are dead. He still refuses to get his clothes or nails stained.

Mammon: He wasn’t initially greedy, but he slowly grew to be the Avatar of Greed as he is. Mammon perhaps fakes his personality, just like how Satan would cover up his wrath with a smile. After all, how would one approach to make a business if he gives off a threatening aura. Maybe centuries as a shady business demon made him lose his sense of dignity along the way, but keep in mind he still knows his title as an Avatar. He flaunts it too, it’s just that it’s very hard to push him to the point of violence. So most demons don’t take him seriously. Money makes the world go round, but it’s the quickest way for someone to seek vengeance when someone doesn’t pay back what they own. Mammon generally plays by the rules even though he himself gambles in illegal places, but he still has business standards. If someone tries to cheat him out of his winnings, they will earn themselves a one way ticket to Mammon’s blacklist, which most of the time has four or five people in the waiting list so one shouldn’t count on time to delay Mammon’s wrath. He will make them pay. No amount of begging or bribery will work, by then the only way of paying back the “debt” is with one’s soul, which is worth even more than anyone can ever imagine. Hell, perhaps he deals with selling organs on the black market too after he finishes seeking vengeance. Organs are worth a good amount of money, either for hungry cannibalistic demons looking for a demon kidney as dinner or for mad scientist demons to run experiments on. Either way, business.

Belphegor: He is too lazy to kill, that’s all I can say. If you think it’s hard to get on Mammon’s blacklist, it’s even harder to get on Belphegor’s blacklist because he just doesn’t care…unless someone messes with his dear twin, Beelzebub. There will be no more peaceful rest for that person for the rest of their short life because Belphegor will make sure that they die in agony. He will curse the person so that whenever they are about to fall asleep, they will be jolted alive by some weird electric feeling. It’s like the feeling when you trip in your sleep (Hypnic Jerk), except it’s not an angel accidentally dropping your soul when bringing you to heaven, but a demon draining your sanity to live. It’s no brainer that sleep is very important as it keeps one’s mind and body functioning. For the victims of Belphegor however, they will never sleep again. They can try but are always jolted awake whenever they are on the edge to dreamland. Until many days has gone by where the person is basically a walking zombie at this point, they pray and try to fall asleep once again expecting for the same jolt feeling, except it didn’t happen. The victims can finally sleep, but this sleep feels more…permanent.

Author’s note: I started writing this draft like a year ago, and took it out today. I forgot what im exactly writing. It’s so shifty of what it’s meant to be. Think it was kill count and why, but it gradually moved onto killing methods of each. Don’t take it too seriously 👉👈. Hope y’all enjoy.

[brain-rot-central]

ok so has anyone made a list of things that Astarion said that had a different meaning than first thought?

For example, if you tell Astarion when you first meet that you’re Baldurian as well, he says they must not be in the same social circle. With the way he talks and dresses it seems like he’s implying you’re lower class, but later it becomes clear you’re not those petty criminals or brothel goers that he targets. (And there’s the separate “of course it’ll turn me into a monster” line that becomes obvious later.)

He reveals he fears breaking his nail to the dryad, and it seems shallow but we learn he’s traumatized by digging himself out of his coffin, and the year he endured being trapped inside a coffin and desperately scratching and breaking his nails off as punishment, which is also why he refuses to dig anyone out like Nere.

Also, he mentioned he targeted brothel visitors, and at first it sounds like he just waited outside those establishments for victims, but then if you visit the drow twins he mentions he never thought he’d be on the paying end, plus if you choose one of the twins then Astarion says you have a type for elven prostitutes. And if you really think about it, considering how Petras’ lines are similar to Astarion’s, it wouldn’t be weird to imagine Cazador forcing them to work at a brothel for a few years as training…

Some of Astarion’s lines have a lot to unpack

Many things Astarion says are doublespeak. It's a common coping mechanism used by trauma survivors to "make peace," in a way with what they went through. It's not until you've played through his whole story that you understand that, and honestly it breaks my heart. He has a lot of self-depreciating language. Little quips here and there where you realize he's not only commenting on the current situation but himself, as well.

The monster line in the beginning gets me the most, because he follows it up with, "What did I expect?" For the first time in 200 years, he's able to stand in the sun without burning. He's grappling with that entire realization while also readjusting to there being light and color in the world, and probably was looking at the whole Nautiloid experience as something slightly positive... only to learn that no, this is not something positive. In fact, it's horrendous, because if it's not rectified, he'll become a grotesque monster, worse than he already is. And idk, that guts me. He has this small glimmer of hope for the first time in two centuries, all to realize that it's a giant farce.

But, Astarion is also stubborn, so he holds onto this small glimmer of hope to see if there's a way he can work the tadpole to his advantage. So that he can continue to walk in the sun. Once he realizes that Cazador's compulsion has been interrupted due to the tadpole, he doubles down on wanting to keep the tadpole and control it.

Astarion's story is such a beautiful portrayal of what being in survival mode feels and is like. You're so entirely desperate to make it out of your current situation that you would quite literally give anything and everything to obtain it, even if it means burning the entire world down around you.

The elven prostitute line made me laugh when I first heard it; I knew he was referring to himself and trying to make some light humor about his past, but it's also heartbreaking to realize he sees himself as one. He hasn't yet taken the grace with himself to distinguish between being forced into that line of work vs who he actually is. The lines are still blurred.

I can't think about the intricacies of his background/personality too long, because it all feels way too familiar to me. To know even a smidge of the despair he probably felt for years and the constant mental and physical struggle he endured (there's even disordered eating/food insecurity in his back story too and no one really talks much about it; Cazador purposely kept all the spawn near-starving as a form of control).

Our boy was severely abused and neglected and I really just want to give him a fucking hug.

[beatricebat]

"Then - then! - a few minutes later he *got to his knees* in front of Jean to persuade him to join the Jaegerists. Jean was curled up in a ball, losing his mind, and Floch freaking Foster deigned to lower himself to someone’s level for the first time ever. Chilling/sexy/delete as appropriate."

YES. Floch was so good here??? On his knees to not look imposing, drops down to eye level with Jean, very very soft gentle eyes (on purpose or not? who knows!) places his hand on Jean's shoulder (call back to the other two times Jean did that to guide Floch). Did all that after saying "What's wrong with submission". Yeah I'm reading too much into it and everyone probably looks into this as Floch trying to make Jean submit, but I can also see it as him submitting himself to Jean so that Jean submits. Does this make sense? Probably not! I'm yapping in circles!

I love your theory, but I have a totally different interpretation of that scene!

I’m going off the English dub, where Floch sounded super far away when he said, “What’s wrong with submission?” I think he was looking back on the death charge, where everyone who believed in something held their heads up high and died for it.

(Side note: from Floch’s perspective, he’d just been the sole survivor of another massacre, after he jumped off the wall and hid during Pieck’s surprise attack. The futility of dying for a cause was probably pretty fresh in his mind.)

I think Jean came into it because, after showing the volunteers how he would treat his enemies. Floch wanted to show them how he treated his friends. The soft voice, the soft eyes, the soft touches - those were very performative for his literally captive audience.

They weren’t entirely insincere, though.

Floch picked Jean for that because he loved Jean best. Romantic love, brotherly love, comradely love, whatever - Jean was Floch’s strongest connection in the room.

I keep wanting to say “Floch looked up to Jean,” but that’s so wrong. Jean wanted Floch to look up to him. Jean tried over and over and over again to be a role model for Floch. He tried to lead by example, and show Floch what a man could be and what he should do. But when Floch kneeled before Jean…Floch still made himself taller.

Floch he told Jean through words and through body language that even though Floch loved Jean best, Floch didn’t look up to him, and he never would. He pooh-poohed all Jean’s attempts at leadership when he told him to go back to being the old dickhead Jean. It’s the anti-Marco demotivational speech! I think that’s what broke Jean. He’d been trying to live up to what Marco said about him so hard and for so long, and the one guy he’d tried to do that for the most had essentially just laughed in his face and called him a silly boy.

[highonakuweeds]

Random Hazbin Men Headcanons

I couldn't help myself.

ALASTOR

He does have a tail, yes; that’s the reason why his coat is super flared out. It’s a wonder people haven’t seen it yet.

Well, it’s either the fact no one has seen it or he just brutally murders those who have already seen it

It doesn’t wag when he’s happy, though; he’s not a dog. Or rather, he can control it when he’s happy since it’s always slow. When he’s panicking or stressed, however, that’s a different story

It is sensitive. Please do not pull on it because it’s still connected to his spine and that shit hurts. Curling your finger along its fur seems to be okay, though

Ears are more sensitive than his tail. Because of their fluffy nature, just grazing a fingertip near the inside of his ears make them twitch.

Yes, it tickles.

He would never admit the fact that scratching the base of them feels more relieving than it should.

Actually had curly/wavy-ish hair when he was alive, and was devastated when he realized Hell permanently straightened his hair. He was grateful his hair maintained its volume, though

VOX

Most probably knows how to cook and clean and do all of that housework bullshit because of Vel and Val. They would never shut up about the fact that he couldn’t do that before

Is genuinely really good at baking. One of his guilty pleasures

Would spoil the people he feels close to (i.e., Vel, Val, and when they were still in contact, Alastor)

Knows deep down that he will never actually beat Alastor, but forces himself to believe otherwise because why would he give the stupid deer demon that satisfaction???

Despite the fact the man is literally all about modern technology bs, he barely knows what goes on in the less political/economic side of media. He only knows some things because of Vel and Val

Whether it be on purpose or not, like half of his mannerisms stem from looking up at Alastor before.

Genuinely loves electric swing and jazz just like Al (it was a coincidence), but since people associate those two genres with the Radio demon, he pretends to hate it and adore dubstep

He loves dubstep, too; he just hated the fact he had to like it because he didn’t want to be associated with Al (even if he made a whole song about him)

Would rather wear quiet luxury than extravagant clothing but he loves seeing people’s faces when they gawk at the amount of expensive shit he has

SIR PENTIOUS

Filthy rich. Unironically. HE BOUGHT A WHOLE CRATE FULL OF CARMILLA’S WEAPONS; ISN’T THAT SHIT EXPENSIVE???

One of his hobbies is doodling, and is actually really good at it

When he was alive, he probably had the most luscious, silk, gorgeous hair you’d ever seen. But then he probably had to cut it all off

Crawled on the ground for the first couple of months since his drop into Hell bc he couldn’t figure out his tail

He could make the most intimidating and dangerous machine in just a couple minutes but would struggle with a rubix cube. 

VAL

Drawing, I’m pretty sure, is a canon hobby of his so I just imagine him studying Vox’s face and body to understand his weird ass proportions

You already know what his horny ass was thinking when he tried studying Vox’s lower body

Almost fried his brain trying to understand Vox’s TV screen

Usually his anatomy is incorrect with his shitty eyesight

Loves bold luxury

[thatsonemorbidcorvid]

“In theory, group counseling to address the root causes of abusive behavior sounds promising. If batterer intervention programs make abusers less violent and, as a result, victims safer, why wouldn’t it be a preferable alternative to sentencing someone to, say, a year in jail, as Majors faced? But decades after the first programs were established, we have limited and highly contradictory research on how well they work. Some studies have found batterer intervention programs reduce future violence; others conclude they have little to no impact. The National Institute of Justice says results are “mixed.” Complicating matters, batterer intervention programs aren’t a monolith, and curriculum and quality varies wildly from one to another…

But while batterer intervention programs may prove effective when abusers attend, a huge portion of participants simply don’t. Anywhere from 15 to 58 percent of participants fail to complete treatment, often with few consequences. A 2022 state audit of California batterer intervention programs, including those in L.A. County, where Majors is expected to attend, found that probation officers and program providers frequently failed to inform the court about absences and other probation violations, including serious ones, such as contacting a victim under a protective order. In California, like in Massachusetts, those who completed the programs had a lower rate of reoffending than those who dropped out — 20 percent compared to 65 percent — but notably, nearly half of the domestic-violence offenders reviewed by the state did not complete the program. The “system has not adequately held offenders accountable,” the audit concluded, adding that these issues “have plagued the batterer intervention system for at least three decades, creating a critical need for statewide guidance and oversight.” Without proper supervision, these programs can end up functioning as literal get-out-of-jail-free cards.”

One evening last summer, I logged onto Zoom to observe a virtual counseling program for men who perpetrated domestic violence, run by a Boston-based group called Emerge. There were nine men of various ages and ethnicities and backgrounds on the call. Some were at home, video-conferencing from their bedrooms, one was in the car, and another was taking a leisurely walk outdoors, his sunglasses blocking his eyes from view. Emerge has a set format for these classes, which run weekly for 40 weeks and are generally populated by men court-mandated to attend by a judge. Participants begin by identifying themselves and the name of the person they abused, serving, it seemed to me, a dual purpose—centering the victim at the onset of the session and promoting responsibility. At Alcoholics Anonymous, it’s Hi, I’m John and I’m an alcoholic. At Emerge, it’s Hi, I’m John and I’m an abuser.

The walker, whom I’ll call Jeremy, was doing his weekly check-in with the group when David Adams, the co-founder of Emerge and one of two facilitators on the call, asked him a direct question: What was the abuse he committed that landed him in the program? Emerge encourages men to talk candidly and in detail about their abuse — what preceded it, what they did, how it impacted their partner — and accept feedback from the rest of the group about their behavior. The hope is that participants will begin to recognize and interrogate their own patterns of abuse and, over time, undergo the slow and uncomfortable process of change. To be successful, this intervention model requires active, incisive coaching by group leaders, Adams explained in a paper describing the program, as left on their own, “abusive men tend to give superficial or highly skewed reports of their interactions with their partners.”

Jeremy, still walking, began describing his relationship with his ex-girlfriend. They both struggled with insecurity, he said, leading to arguments over stupid things. “We were both wounded birds, just trying to soar through the sky, and we just, kind of like, we didn’t have very good communicative skills,” he said. Adams stopped his digressive answer there. The question, he reminded Jeremy, was how exactly did he abuse his partner? Now, Jeremy’s voice sped up. “Just like … pushing … I like, pulled her down the stairs, but like two … two stairs, you know?” he replied. “It wasn’t like I dragged her down a flight of stairs and she was all beat up or nothing crazy like that.” He went on: “I don’t want to reflect on my past because I am accountable for my actions, and stuff like that. But it was again, like I said, based upon our insecurities and not having good communicative skills.”

In Jeremy’s telling, his physical violence toward his girlfriend was caused by their mutual insecurity. It was only a few stairs. Nothing crazy. It is exactly this type of thinking that batterer intervention programs, as they are called, are designed to combat. Emerge, circa 1977, was the first such program in the U.S., born at a time when feminist activists were demanding national attention to the neglected issue of domestic violence. As hotlines and shelters sprung up for victims, Adams said, the natural next question within the movement was what to do with the men causing harm?

In the years since, programs have proliferated (over 2,500 exist, according to one count) and are now fully integrated into the criminal-justice system. These days, if you are convicted of a domestic-violence offense, it is likely you’ll be mandated to go to one. Millions of men have attended, including celebrities such as Mel Gibson, Christian Slater, and Chris Brown, who bragged about completing the class on Twitter: “Boyz run from there [sic] mistakes.. Men learn from them!!!” he wrote. (Four years later, a judge granted another woman, Karrueche Tran, a five-year restraining order against Brown, who she said he threatened to kill her.) And earlier this month, Jonathan Majors was sentenced to a 52-week batterer intervention program in California after being convicted of assaulting and harassing his ex-girlfriend Grace Jabbari.

In theory, group counseling to address the root causes of abusive behavior sounds promising. If batterer intervention programs make abusers less violent and, as a result, victims safer, why wouldn’t it be a preferable alternative to sentencing someone to, say, a year in jail, as Majors faced? But decades after the first programs were established, we have limited and highly contradictory research on how well they work. Some studies have found batterer intervention programs reduce future violence; others conclude they have little to no impact. The National Institute of Justice says results are “mixed.” Complicating matters, batterer intervention programs aren’t a monolith, and curriculum and quality varies wildly from one to another.

Most states have legal standards that regulate programs, but oversight falls to different departments with distinct goals. In California, for example, the Probation Department is in charge. In Massachusetts, it’s the Department of Public Health. Generally, participants are mandated to attend once a week for anywhere from 8 to 52 weeks (the longer the better for real change, Adams says). While models range, most programs are a mix of therapy and education, covering topics such as conflict-resolution skills, effects of abuse on partners and children, and how to take accountability. With victims’ consent, Emerge checks in with them throughout the 40 weeks to see if there has been any additional violence or threats and assess victims’ sense of safety. If a perpetrator refuses to own up to his actions or suggests he might commit more violence or stops attending, programs are typically supposed to communicate with probation, courts, and even the partner in question. “If we get somebody 12 weeks into our program who’s still blaming his partner, then we put that in a letter,” Adams said, which can be helpful to partners who are trying to make a decision about whether to stay in the relationship.

Adams, a psychologist who grew up with an abusive father, is a true believer in the power of these programs to save lives. When I asked him about the dismal research on effectiveness, he said studies often lump together participants who quit with those who complete it. Truly changing someone’s deep-seated and long-held thought patterns and beliefs takes time, he explained. “Many of the studies look at somebody who dropped out after one session and reoffend and count that as a program failure,” he said. “If substance-abuse programs were evaluated that way, they would all be considered to be failures.” He directed me to a 2015 pilot study conducted by the Harvard Kennedy School that assessed three batterer intervention programs in Massachusetts, including Emerge. It found that participants who completed such a program were 28 percent less likely to recidivate — measured as an arrest for a future domestic-violence-related crime — than those who failed to complete the program. Stated another way, those who dropped out were three times more likely to be arrested for domestic violence again than those who completed the work. (Of course, evaluating a program’s success using future arrests reveals only the tip of the iceberg, as domestic violence is chronically underreported to police.)

But while batterer intervention programs may prove effective when abusers attend, a huge portion of participants simply don’t. Anywhere from 15 to 58 percent of participants fail to complete treatment, often with few consequences. A 2022 state audit of California batterer intervention programs, including those in L.A. County, where Majors is expected to attend, found that probation officers and program providers frequently failed to inform the court about absences and other probation violations, including serious ones, such as contacting a victim under a protective order. In California, like in Massachusetts, those who completed the programs had a lower rate of reoffending than those who dropped out — 20 percent compared to 65 percent — but notably, nearly half of the domestic-violence offenders reviewed by the state did not complete the program. The “system has not adequately held offenders accountable,” the audit concluded, adding that these issues “have plagued the batterer intervention system for at least three decades, creating a critical need for statewide guidance and oversight.” Without proper supervision, these programs can end up functioning as literal get-out-of-jail-free cards.

In 2016, I was invited to attend a conference on batterer intervention in Dearborn, Michigan. For three days, I listened as leaders in the field, many of whom had been working on this issue since the ’80s, described what they’d learned. Session titles, such as “Real Change, Real Challenges: Moving Forward Through the Backlash” and “Let’s Set the Record Straight!” reflected a sense of frustration with how outsiders perceive the work. I left with the impression that many batterer intervention practitioners genuinely believe that reforming abusers is a critical step — maybe even the critical step — to reducing domestic violence yet is chronically underfunded, the ugly duckling of the movement to stop violence against women. Few advocacy groups are interested in raising money for programs that help abusers, especially if it seems like it might divert resources from victims.

Bringing us back to Jeremy, the Emerge participant. After he finally acknowledged to the group that he pushed his girlfriend down “two” stairs, Adams called him out. He noted that Jeremy kept referring to the core problem as “our” insecurities, as if his girlfriend’s insecurity played a role in the violence. “You’re taking responsibility for your abusive behavior means it’s 100 percent a choice that you’re making. Regardless of how insecure or whatever the other person’s feelings are, right? It has no relevance.”

“I comprehend everything you’re saying,” Jeremy responded guardedly.

Adams continued. “I’m just recommending that you think differently about it, because if that’s the way you continue to think about it, then you’re not responsible. You’re saying, ‘Well, if I get into another situation where both people are insecure, then of course I’m going to be abusive,’ as if one follows naturally from the other.” At this, Jeremy squirmed and frowned. The audio cut out for a few seconds.

Once he was reconnected, he conceded the point. “I should have said ‘my insecurity,’” he said. “I absolutely agree to what you’re trying to say. And my mind-set changes in each group that I come into.”

When asked what Jeremy hoped to get from the program, he said he wanted to learn from his mistakes. “I want this lesson to have an effect, a very big impact in my behavior, my lifestyle and everything.” Of course, it’s easy to say that, whether you really mean it, and some men do fake their way through the classes without genuinely engaging with the content. Regardless, Adams said, “fake it ’til you make it” can still produce an impact.

I asked Adams how Jeremy was doing, nine months after I observed him in class. He’s still attending, Adams said, which is something. He’s taking somewhat more responsibility, but he still deflects from time to time. There’s still more work to be done.

[mdhwrites]

This may be a hot take ask but it's been in my mind forever.

Do you think toh was queerbaiting?

I know it was intentional to have gay ships not just for marketing purpose. But the way they were handled didn't differ that much. Amity's character was assasinated as soon as the ship sailed. Rain is a nobody outside Eda. Huntlow is one sided (and only later they revealed their orientations so they were considered stright for a while), Aladarius is more of a concept than anything.

They didn't focus on the characters (and ships) as they bragged about, but they didn't focus on the plot either. So what do you think?

Sure they did put effort in it for the first season (only lumity) but they got rid of it just as effortlessly for the rest of the show after it was said and done, like any corporations after pride month is over. And if we're honest some of us didn't even know what the main plot was even about in s1 if lumity was suppose to be the side one. Like literally there was no main plot till the door got destroyed.... oh, Luz's quest to become a witch was it? Where is the quest part🔍👀

So to the first half: That's not what queerbaiting is. This isn't Wednesday where a lot of the marketing material hyped up Wednesday and Enid like their relationship was going to be the most important (which arguably it is to be fair to that show) before then swerving into ALL THE STRAIGHT SHIPS POSSIBLE! even to the detriment of the show. That marketing team had explicitly setup what looked like it might be a queer show and even the show seems to want to keep nudging you that something might happen here but nothing does. That is queerbaiting, at least my understanding of it, because what looked like representation was put on a hook, only for the audience to find out it was all a lie once the trap was sprung.

Real representation, even if not done well or boringly, is still representation and as such, isn't bait. It might be a bit more spoiled than you initially thought but it is still real.

The plot of TOH on the other hand? That is a far more fickle thing, isn't it? Especially for a plot driven show.

Now I've been told that modern cartoons nowadays actually seem to commonly spend their first season on a much lower key than the rest so as to setup characters, be more family friendly, etc. like that. Good shows of this sort will still have a major point to this though. Amphibia absolutely follows this method because the music box and going home are brought up only a couple times in S1, though those setups actually do have payoffs and longer lasting consequences in S2, but it's still doing work. It's still enriching Anne's character and giving a satisfying story of a girl growing up.

Comparatively, Eda as a wild witch makes up maybe a third of S1 of TOH and her curse takes up even less time. That is ostensibly the plot of S1 before it claims to be transitioning into its grander plot. And to be fair to this: It does get two episodes of resolution in S2 between Affearances and Knock Knock Knockin'. But here's something that happened between me and another author by the time Clouds on the Horizon came around. They were only invested in Eda getting a coven sigil... Because they forgot Eda didn't have magic.

By the end of S2, Eda was such a minor character, so non-aggrieved by the end of S1, that another fanfic writer, someone who should be tracking these elements more than most, forgot about it entirely. And this is the curse of TOH where it's both serialized and episodic. Where consequences don't last and the focus never stays on the task at hand. Even interactions can go back and forth depending on the needs of the episode.

After all, despite the curse being an issue for Eda... Luz doesn't actually care about it until the end of S1. She could have done more. They could have highlighted their growing relationship by Luz deciding to focus on Eda's curse rather than her school life and magic, shown some character growth there too and given a reason for Hexide to exist plot wise... But they didn't. So many elements of TOH are disconnected from each other in ways that make it so TOH often has to introduce a new element to have a plot for an episode rather than EVER following up on previous hooks or the like.

As I will continue to point out: S1 ended in such a way that Belos should have been the main threat. Luz's theoretical nature to care for any oppressed person like in the first episode should have come out in a raging hurricane of pain and vengeance for almost killing her new family and cutting her off from her mom. Lilith could have even paralleled and fueled it because of Belos' betrayal of her and her ambitions.

Instead... It doesn't. It barely focuses on Hunter, the new plot element and takes a third of the season to do another Amity plot with him but worse and a quarter of the season, mostly in S2A, is giving lip service to the portal door but only two episodes in the season are actually about questing for it because frankly nothing is actually earned in this show. Luz puts more work into getting Amity's badge back, INFINITELY more work even if off screen, than getting the journal that will take her home. It's even made more bullshit by this random mouse I guess deciding to follow Luz from the library after its only interaction with her is getting screamed at.

That's not serialization. That's not using your current elements to tell your story so as to need the audience to have seen what came before. However, these episodes also aren't fun enough or satisfying enough on their own to be properly episodic. In order to get anything out of them, you HAVE to be invested already and have the greater context.

It's just another version of TOH's split personality and S3 REALLY started showing the cracks when stuff like Willow's breakdown happens and a lot of people seem to have turned to my side of "Wait... When was this actually shown to us?" Because Willow was an early element that they never did anything with. Similarly goes for Gus' confidence issues in his personal episodes while a lot of his comic relief stems from him being the pinnacle of confidence and then getting knocked down. The dude has a line of "No biggie" in response to Willow getting called the strongest witch Luz knows. Dude is secure... unless the focus is on him. Same goes for King in S1 especially frankly.

It leaves TOH in a limbo where it's not comedy focused, it's not scenario focused, it REALLY wants to be character focused but then rips apart its character's potential, and it also REALLY wants to be plot focused while having so much romantic stuff going on that it never has time for its own plot or never focuses on it.

It's just a mess, even from S1. But again, as always, S1 was at least trying to be more fun and satisfying in the individual episode and that goes a long way to making an audience be invested in the plot you're hinting at.

But eventually, you have to start your story and TOH was far more interested in new stories than satisfying conclusions to old ones.

=========

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead, If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

And finally a Twitter you can follow too!

[umbracirrus]

WIP not on a Wednesday 💛

I've finally today been able to write for the first time in little over a week and a half... and I've honestly got a thing in my mind about Galmar at the moment. Don't even know why - but it stoked a fic idea in my head and - shock horror - a new dragonborn oc emerges from the abyss of my mind. Or rather I adapted a character, and some bullet point notes I had made, from a different idea I had months ago because I found this fit better. Her name is Aevra and I love her just like I do all the others.

But even though it was thoughts of Galmar which inspired me starting to write this, he isn't even in this WIP!! Hah....

Tagged by @thequeenofthewinter

-------

"Still, surely it is something worth celebrating! You can’t just save the world then hide yourself away, my Thane!" Lydia protested as the two of them descended the Seven-thousand Steps, much to Aevra’s disdain. She had just done what was needed to be done, with the only other option being death – in her eyes, that wasn’t worth celebrating. "Look, you went to Sovngarde and returned. You fought the World Eater! You can quite literally summon dragons for your every whim – surely that is worth at least a drink and celebration once we return to Whiterun?"

Lowering her head and folding her arms over, Aevra sighed. Clearly, she wouldn’t be getting out of this without Lydia getting her way to some extent. "Fine. One drink at the Bannered Mare, and we will buy the largest sweetroll to share in ‘celebration’ – but that is as far as I'm going in terms of- Huh?" She stopped in her tracks when the two of them reached the lowest wayshrine and Ivarstead came into her line of sight. "What is going on down there? There are an awful lot of people, even for Ivarstead... Lydia, this isn’t your doing, is it? Trying to rope me into a party?"

"This... isn’t what I’ve been planning. I was with the Jarl in Whiterun until that, ah... Odahviing, is it? Until Odahviing returned to take me to meet you at the Throat of the World," Lydia explained, her hand coming to rest on her sword. "But I don’t like the looks of it one bit. We should proceed with caution..."

Now that was something that she could agree with.

The pair slowly made their way down towards the town, where things began to become clearer. Much clearer.

Aevra was the first to realise what exactly was going on upon the sight of Imperial armour as they approached the bridge leading into the town. It took Lydia a few moments after her realisation to notice that she was no longer moving, and was instead rooted to the spot just before the bridge.

"Are you okay...?"

This was no celebration, and they were there for her.

---

The two of them were surrounded. Lydia had her weapons drawn, but Aevra did not.

"I will not allow you to arrest my Thane-!"

"You do realise that this town is Imperial land, and that your Thane is a wanted criminal?" Hearing those words from Rikke did make her wince and clench her fists, but she knew that at this point, there was no escaping it... "She killed over a dozen of her fellow soldiers, attempted to kill the General, and deserted – Dragonborn or not, she cannot escape punishment for her deeds, I'm afraid. Now, she can either come along quietly and prevent further bloodshed, or we shall apprehend her through force."

At this point, Lydia had already drawn her sword, and was ready to fight. Whereas Aevra... simply had no fight left. She was exhausted from battling Alduin in Sovngarde, then descending from High Hrothgar. She also didn’t have the energy that she used to all those years ago. As much as she wanted to fight to escape, she had no doubts that she would be quickly apprehended.

Besides... she had fulfilled her ‘destiny’. She had no more purpose; the world no longer needed a Dragonborn – not if Paarthurnax was going to be teaching the remaining dragons the Way of the Voice.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to face her dear friend and housecarl, and rested her hand on her wrist to make her lower her weapon. "Stand down, Lydia. I... I think that I've made my peace," she muttered, walking past her and stopping when she was stood before Rikke. "Go back to Whiterun... and have that drink and sweetroll for us, okay? Take care of Breezehome, and take care of yourself."

"But-!"

"Lydia, you’re dismissed from your duties as my housecarl. Go home."

"Thank you for your cooperation, Dragonborn," Rikke stated, before glancing at Lydia. "Listen to her. You will be arrested for interfering with Imperial business if you remain."

Much to Aevra’s relief, Lydia cooperated, and sheathed her weapon before backing away. Even more relieving – though she wasn’t too certain whether it should have been a relief or not, given the circumstances – was that the Imperials had waited for Lydia to leave Ivarstead before she was officially apprehended.

After her arms were taken hold of, and her hands bound, she stared at the legate with as straight a face as she could. "I almost hoped that we would never cross paths again, Rikke. It hurts my heart that things have come to this..." Her head turned towards the mountain behind her, in part to conceal the wavering emotion across her face. "I presume that this has been in planning ever since the treaty was arranged? Since the General realised who I was?"

"I'm afraid so. Though I will be the first to admit that it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth having to do this to you..." Rikke made a noise, indicating that she was thinking very carefully about her next words. "To the Dragonborn... in the hours after Alduin’s defeat. But the law is the law, and you broke it."

She remained quiet after that… not that she was given the chance to speak.

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

Faulty Assumptions

I've seen two asks in the past two days come up on a dear friend's blog that spurred me to write something. I'm still not comfortable just being part of a community again with reblogs and having many strangers 'know' me. But I really felt compelled to respond to what I perceived as faulty assumptions about D/s in those asks, so I'm doing it here I guess.

First, a dominant wrote asking advice about making their punishments harsher because they perceived their submissive wasn't trying to avoid punishment. J and I don't even use punishment because just a look of slight disappointment on J's face nearly crushes me by itself, and I don't presume to know what other people want or need in their dynamics. But I felt the assumption that harsher punishment was the answer to a submissive not putting forth enough effort into avoiding them was flawed. My friend answered (and it was awesome) that she felt the problem might really be the submissive not feeling that the dominant takes the rules and expectations (and therefore when those aren't followed or met) seriously, so they don't either; like the submissive doesn't put effort into those things because they feel the dominant isn't either, or the dominant doesn't care about their effort. Or that maybe the submissive is passive aggressively seeking more play or to be shown more dominance. I agree with this, but I also wanted to add that if a submissive isn't seeking to avoid punishment, they might not be emotionally invested in the rules, the relationship, or even the dominant themselves. Like I said, J and I don't use punishment in our relationship, but there's a huge difference in J doing something with/to/for me because he wants to (spanking, assigning tasks, whatever) and doing it because he thinks I need to be punished (for hurting or disappointing him). J spanking my bare ass red because he wants to is fun for both of us; one tap on my behind over clothes because he's punishing me would make me sob with contrition. The harshness of the act of punishment isn't the point; it's the intention from both sides that should matter. Just my two cents.

Which brings me to two more cents. This same friend received another ask, this time from a submissive asking if my friend's partner 'taught her some humility,' perhaps about getting lax with effort or maybe being glib or sassy or something. And again, my friend answered spectacularly, saying that she didn't like to see submission as lower or needing to be humble. And YES. I have never been more able to feel confident and proud of myself than I have been in my life with J. In fact, I truly believe something he's worked with me to 'correct,' for lack of a better word is that I've basically been humble to a fault in most areas of my life for the majority of my life. I still regularly struggle with imposter syndrome. I literally never thought I was ever good at anything or worthy of anything good before I met J. So to me, submission has almost been an exercise in recovery from pathological humility. Can J give me A Look if I'm in danger of falling short of an expectation or getting a little disrespectful sounding? Sure. I mean... I'll be real...he makes this face pretty regularly 🤨. But is that teaching me humility? I don't think so. Actually, I kinda like that face, and I admit I've said things on purpose before to get him to make it at me. 😇 The point I'm trying to make here is, I think there may be a faulty assumption, even among submissives themselves, that submission is somehow supposed to be less than or lower or humbled before dominance. And maybe I'm a weirdo (I mean I'm definitely a weirdo, but you know...), but in my experience, submission has been empowering. 🤷

[manjiroscum]

serenading angels

Character/s: yandere!Inui Seishu

Warnings: f!reader, cursing, explicit sexual themes, implied kidnapping, non-con, yandere behaviors, humiliation, exhibitionism, public sex, baby trapping, unprotected sex, spitting, forced restraining (reader receiving), car sex, and manipulation. Minors don't interact.

Note: I don't condone any heinous acts committed below. It is all for fictional purposes. If you don't like what it contains, feel free to skip it!

Synopsis: Inui Seishu really, really, loves you.

✃WC: 2.3K

A glacier hammered into two perfect blue gems encompassed how chilling his stare was. Seeing you totter, tailing behind Koko akin to a lost puppy having chosen its lucky owner had his knuckles turning paper white at the sight enough to cut finger pads. And that sweet, sweet, smile you threw at the oblivious Kokonoi Hajime had him sinking his teeth into his lower lips, close to drawing blood. And at this very moment... Inui Seishu would rather kill his childhood friend than lose you.

Because how could he compete with the man whom you were completely enamored with to the point you were acting like a fool?

Inui caught himself plotting numerous ways on how to kill off his childhood friend without arousing suspicion—especially from you who always seemed to find ways on getting Koko alone. And really, he was disgusted at himself for imagining it. What were you doing to him? How could he be harboring ill wishes for his longtime friend? It wasn’t Koko’s fault why you were infatuated with him—wait, perhaps it was yours…

Perfectly flawed and chasing the shadows of his dead old love, Koko was not the ideal man to be with. Especially now that he had new companions who were used to cheating the law and dealing with the devil, yet here you were… still wishing he would look your way for once—to give you a single chance of loving him and earn his love in return.

It was unfair. He found you first, waltzed into his life to apply for the job behind the cashier since having two hands wasn’t enough to man the shop anymore since the other owner had passed. Day by the day, he found his gaze lingering on your bubbling form whenever customers were around. Alone time wasn’t scarce and just when Inui thought things were going smoothly, Koko just had to enter into the scene.

And seriously, Inui should pity you instead of being pissed at your stupidity for dreaming a dream more impossible than Icarus flying into the skies.

“Inupi, you okay?”

Pupils literally shining at the sight of his childhood friend turned to Inui, wondering what made Koko glance up from his phone noisy due to the numerous notifications popping up once every minute brought by his busy nature. The blond, momentarily, forgot how to breathe when your irises locked with his. Heart hammering in his chest, it almost hurt. When did he start feeling this way for you—he can’t recall… Just as he can’t remember when you fell for the aloof Bonten executive who barely had the time of day to entertain you whenever he came to the shop.

“I’m fine, Koko—”

“The pencil…” Following the stare of his old friend, Inui blinked at the broken object in his hands, cleanly split into two. Surprised at his own obliviousness, your boss was quick to dispose of the victim of his simmering jealousy into the bin. “Are you really fine?”

“Yeah…”

He should really pity you… because while Icarus, no matter how brief, was able to take flight. You, on the other hand—an angel who refused to fly anywhere else without Koko—was stuck to the ground amongst others.

And as he watched you from afar—still trying to make Koko talk to you rather than clipped responses—Inui figured he should cut those wings of yours before your feet had a chance to kiss the ground goodbye and leave him behind.

He hates goodbyes.

However, he wished you didn’t share the same sentiment when you woke up in a strange bed in a strange place—thrashing about and begging to go. Panic coursing through your veins, heart pounding in anxiety and fright. The lamp at the corner was the only source of light in the musty basement Inui kept you in. Wrists and ankles are tied together by a rope to keep you from escaping.

A butterfly trapped in a jar, you were. Beautiful despite the tears, smudged mascara, and snot on your pretty face. Sitting on the wooden chair across from you, impassive at your cries to be set free, Inui Seishu was impressed at the turn of events. Dominos toppled over the other in a meticulous and successful manner, leading up to the day of your capture and hiding you in his home.

What set the plan in motion? You were to blame, he mused. All on you. He was content in watching you from a distance until Inui’s patience snapped like the thin pencil he held in his hand that day and for similar reasons—of seeing you openly flirt at Koko, as if he wasn’t in the room, glaring from where he sat. But what had his blood running cold was the uncharacterized action of Koko returning your attempts with a smirk on his lips, as if he didn’t purposefully have you dangling at the end of a string. A date was what his friend brought to the table—Inui Seishu was convinced he was about to pass out with all the blood rushing up to his head in undiluted wrath.

A huge smile adorned your pretty features, making Inui wish he was the person receiving your smile, instead of Koko. And he had enough.

“Inupi, w-why are you doing this?” you sobbed, hot tears streaming down your cheeks as he got up and approached you. Face free of any emotion that may giveaway what he was thinking or plotting to do. Still, it was worth trying to persuade him to set you free—even negotiate that you’ll forget this all happened and move on back to the normal rhythm of life. But of course, he doesn’t entertain the suggestion.

“Isn’t it quite obvious, you slut?” Forcing you to stare into his cold icy irises by grabbing your jaw, Inui squeezed your cheeks until your lips were puckered. “Testing my patience and flirting in my shop—did you enjoy shaking your ass at Koko? Practically wagging your tail when he asked you out, huh?” Fingers reaching up to your hair, they immediately fisted the strands and pulled. An audible gasp escaped your lips, glossy eyes wide in fear.

“Please, let me go—”

Tug.

“P-please!”

Tug.

“Have m-mercy!”

“Maybe this isn’t clear enough, but you’re staying down here until you realize that you should love me. Not Koko or any other bastard you could bat your eyelashes at. Think you could do that, angel?” Wincing at the hurt expression etched on your face, Inui clicked his tongue. He didn’t mean to hurt you. If you only fell in love with him, you wouldn’t be in this situation at all. Yes, this was all your fault to begin with. Inui did nothing wrong but love you. “Does it hurt? I’m sorry, but I would never do this if you just keep quiet—”

“I-I will… just please—please don’t kill me.”

“Kill you? No way, why would I do that to the person I love?” Shooting you an incredulous stare, he shook his head. “Take responsibility—that’s what you should do. And since you interrupted me, how about we work on that now, huh?” Gripping your jaw again, he nodded at your lips. “Open up.”

Doing as you're told, you watched in silent horror as Inui parted his lips, a glob of saliva dropping into the flat surface of your tongue.

“Swallow.”

You swore as you were forced to drink his taste, tears glistening as it rolled to the back of your throat, Inui Seishu looked like he saw heaven’s gates opening before him.

“Good girl. Now, if you listen to me well, I’ll let you go… How’s that sound?”

You shouldn’t have dealt with the devil—should’ve known it was a lie. He was mad—fucked in the head. Completely unforgiving as he tore apart the dress you bought for your date with Koko similar to how he plucked your wings, ensuring your eternal stay in damnation such as he. Ears deaf to your soft sobs, fists banging on his chest helplessly as he had you pinned on the mattress he prepared lying on the ground. All you had to do was sleep with him and pretend he was your love, that was all he wanted and you’ll be set free. Hanging onto that hope alone, you paused on your struggles and let him in as lovers do.

What a naive girl you truly are.

Pale blues intently drinking the sight of your tears hitting the mattress as he undid the ties to your legs, spreading them wide open to accommodate him. Erection pressing against your trembling thighs, the slacks of his coveralls thin enough for you to feel. It didn’t take long for him to be tantalized by the sight of your folds, dipping a finger that urged a whimper out of you. He could get drunk at the scene itself, especially how you tasted sweet against his tongue and the melodic moans you tried to hold back. And the instant searing heat that had his eyes rolling back as he sunk into you, relishing at the clenching walls. You cried out at the thick cock splitting your folds apart, cheeks dusted with pink at the humiliating sound of it welcoming him in. Slick and his pre-cum coating the warm muscles.

“What? Wish this cock inside your clenching pussy is Koko’s?” Rutting hard that had you choke out a groan, Inui’s fingers were digging deeper into your hips, sure to leave his marks on your flesh akin to the ropes marring your wrists. “Don’t be stupid. There’s no fucking way—ah—I’ll have my girlfriend’s cunt take any other cock than mine.”

Strands of blond brushed your cheeks at every thrust, parted lips pink after kissing you silly and those uncaring blue irises wild with lust. That angelic face and hair akin to a halo didn’t match the devil’s soul in him. Mad with ecstasy and want, moaning unabashedly at your tight cunt. And when you came, spasming underneath him and screaming at the blinding bliss, Inui instantly cummed.

“That’s my good girl.”

Yes, what a naive girl you truly are to think he’ll still let you go after having a piece of heaven. Every day—morning, after work, and before bed, he had you pressed against anything. From the mattress, a chair, a table, or even the basement’s floor, Inui pistoned his hips, bent on molding your cunt into the shape of his cock. Crying yourself to sleep was the only remedy you found for being trapped for so long you’ve lost count of the days. Gone were the prayers of being found, escaping, or even Koko discovering what his friend has done to you.

Still, there was a glimmer of hope remaining, no matter how little it was. And the first time the blond took you out, letting you see the surface again, you were sure you could outrun him… Until he had your legs tied up before situating you into the car, cool air of the AC blowing into your bare thighs and pussy. The whole drive to the bike store consisted of you moaning on the car seat, Inui’s free hand fingering your clit while the other was on the wheel. Tears of embarrassment form in your eyes, heart pounding at the idea of getting caught or seen through the tinted windows.

“Be good and stay still,” Inui ordered once the vehicle stopped in front of the establishment. Memories of working there, seeing Koko, and just leading a normal life seemed distant now as you sat there in silence. Just as Inui got out, having taken what he needed, the familiar silhouette of Koko appeared and approached his childhood friend. From where you are, you could hear them converse. The temptation to roll down the window and scream for help screeched to a halt upon seeing the wrench in Inui’s hand.

“Inupi, have you seen [Y/N]?”

“Is that all you wanted to ask when you asked me to meet you here on a Sunday?”

“What? Of course not, just curious.”

Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants, Inui scoffed, “Probably skipped town, I suppose. She quit without notice.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I actually came here to tell you about this businessman I became acquainted with. Knows a lot about motorcycles and stuff.”

Watching them, dread had you frozen on the spot. The sudden urge to take you out of the basement, him driving here and meeting Koko—no, there’s no way he’ll kill his friend… right? He wouldn’t do that… not in front of you and certainly under broad daylight. He wouldn’t!

“Why are you crying, angel?” Blinking up at Inui’s concerned eyes, you realize you have been crying out of panic at the thought of Koko dying. The sight of you sobbing for his friend left a bitter taste in his mouth, the smile he had on his face as he bid Koko farewell was wiped away, quick to drive the car to a nearby abandoned building. The second he pulled out the car keys, Inui got out and walked to your side of the car. Impassive was his expression upon opening the door, staring down at you with those chilling blue irises. The wind was knocked out of your throat, your face was pressed against the car seat, ass in the air, and pussy taking his cock out in the open. Maybe if the building next door wasn’t closed for the day, countless people would’ve seen and heard you moaning into the leather material as Inui pounded into you. Ashamed by your cunt wet with arousal at getting fucked out in the open.

“Shedding tears—fuck—for a man who doesn’t love you? Get over it, angel. You have a loving—shit, ah—boyfriend right here ready to blow your back. All you got to do is fucking ask! W-want a baby? I’ll give you one. Bet you’d like that? Tell me, do you want a baby, angel?”

“‘N-nupi, e-enough! I’m gonna—fuck!”

“No, no—shh, I’ll take care of us, okay? Don’t be scared, angel. I’m only doing this so you wouldn’t leave me. You won’t leave your boyfriend, right? You’ll be such a good mom.” A hard thrust that had him spilling his thick semen had you creaming around his cock, choked moans filling the air. “Did you just cum hearing that? You dirty girl.”

🎐taglist: @ranilingus @wakaslut @thesimpsclub @nameless-shrimp @tobidabio @wakasa-wifey @s-ugei @blueparadis @stffychn

[aroaceleovaldez]

I don’t think it’s so much that Rick didn’t realize he made Nico too powerful, it’s just that Nico as a secondary character always served a very particular purpose that makes it very difficult to place him into the position of main/central protagonist. Nico’s character basically since his introduction is random exposition, moving the plot along (usually by being kidnapped, missing, or similar), and solving problems when a dues ex machina is needed but can’t use a literal god.

He knows everything and everyone for no reason other than He’s Nico, So He Does. His powers are Whatever’s Most Useful And/Or Coolest In The Moment (as long as it is even tangentially related to the Underworld/ghosts somehow). Why can he teleport? Because it’s convenient. Whatever the “Death Trance” is? Plot reasons. Why does him using his powers lower the temperature in the surrounding area to the point of frost forming? Because it’s epic, next question. Ghosts literally tell him the future in HoH just so they know where to go next. Oops, need to scale back a bit so that the threat isn’t too threatening, but can’t have Nico just solve all the problems? He’s unconscious/kidnapped/incredibly weak from his latest bout of trauma/generally off who-knows-where like usual.

None of this is a bad thing! Nico’s just a very versatile character, and demigods - particularly Big 3 kids - are supposed to be overpowered. They’re demiGODS! It only becomes a problem when you try to make him the main/central protagonist for an extended period of time. It works in BoO because we have an excuse for him being weak, so his bouts of strength throughout the Team Statue chapters feel impressive but still realistic, given what we know about his usual abilities. And we also don’t spend the entire book in Nico’s shoes, so it breaks up how often we see him being weak. In BoO, he’s also in a situation where he doesn’t really ever need to do any exposition, or the exposition he does is small enough that it’s not disruptive when we’re viewing it from a 3rd person limited POV. We see this in HoO with Annabeth as well, because she’s the main character typically designated the role of Exposition-Giver (particularly in the first series - usually it only falls to Nico if Annabeth isn’t available, or if neither are available usually we get a random new/minor character or immortal popping in for 20 minutes) but we’re far enough into the series that it’s fine to present those exposition characters as POV without it being disruptive. This is also why Annabeth works as a POV in the TKC crossover - she doesn’t know much about Egyptian mythology, so Sadie is able to act as the main source of exposition for their short story. Percy in the first series doesn’t know greek mythology, so he’s the audience stand-in to be expositioned at by other characters. Same with Sadie and Carter and Magnus. By TOA, it’s fine if Apollo knows a ton about Greek mythology because by that point in the series they’re guessing you already read PJO and HoO. But even then, Apollo as a mortal constantly has memory problems, which is the same reason why Jason and Percy had amnesia for the first two books of HoO, because we needed them to not know anything so the audience could have other characters throw exposition at them. It’s why almost all the other POV characters are relatively new to their respective camps (Piper and Leo just joined CHB and know nothing about Greek mythology. Hazel only joined a couple of months ago and Frank is still on probatio, but we’re in the second book now so most of the exposition doesn’t need to be repeated so it’s okay if they’re not new new to being demigods.) You can absolutely have your POV character exposition to the audience, but it’s difficult to do gracefully outside of like, first person or second person where you are directly addressing the audience.

This doesn’t work if you want to do a third-person limited POV of Nico venturing into the Underworld, because you now have to explain the entire Underworld to someone who is unfamiliar with the setting (given we rarely explore it in-depth). But you also have to include surprises, which doesn’t make sense for Nico of all characters when he lives there. Then we’re also simultaneously trying to take Will Solace, who has spent all of like three books being a complete background character and only just in two TOA books got upgraded to minor character, and make him a protagonist on the same level of the guy who is the catch-all back-up for solving problems and getting the narrative from Point A to Point B. So you end up with the narrative being forced to make Nico know nothing about his own house and be randomly weak and helpless in the place he should be strongest, and Will getting buffed out of nowhere. Because they just didn’t plan it out. Literally 90% of those problems could be solved if you just made Will the main POV instead of Nico, because then Nico could continue his usual role of being the designated exposition & problem solver while everything is all new and intimidating to Will.

okay outside of the retcons and continuity errors in TSATS, I think the main part that bugs me is how much the book seems to infantilize Nico, particularly relating to his relationship with Will. Especially because the book seems to remember and then forget again that Nico is autistic only when it’s convenient to infantilize him further.

Nico is randomly nerfed and basically helpless at literally everything the entire book. There is not a single fight EVER in the book that he actually fights without someone else very directly doing the work for him or actively helping him (usually LITERALLY holding his hand), save for that singular time where he sneak-attack kills the monster that just regenerated, but honestly that doesn’t really count as a fight. Or the aeternae, but they literally weren’t attacking him.

He’s in the underworld! He’s been dating Will for a year! How is he completely incapable of the simplest tasks? He tries to help Will - in the infirmary (is helpless at it), patch up his wounds (Will’s condition only worsens), put batteries in a sun lamp (he drops the batteries) - every time he manages to fuck up like he’s never done a single task in his life before. He runs away from every fight or someone else does the work for him because he’s randomly incapable of it for some random excuse. He completely loses several notable powers of his (only ever using one of his powers the entire book, and the only other reference to his powers is his shadow-travel which we don’t actually see) and acts like he’s physically incapable of them even though they logically should be the best answer for a particular situation (geokinesis! dream powers! influencing fear/nightmares! one-tap kill dissolve-you-to-bones! rip souls out of living people!) Yet Will randomly can do everything he can’t - generates two completely new powers to fight Nyx with (alongside bringing back an old power that got forgotten)! Plus a third (growing flowers/plants) that doesn’t even have anything done with it! Can pick the fruit from Persephone’s garden when Nico can’t (LITERALLY IN NICO’S OWN HOME)! Nico panicking? Soothes him without even trying. Will saves Nico in fights like five different times when he’s supposed to be the one with zero combat experience and explicitly isn’t a fighter (and doesn’t even have a weapon) and Nico’s the one who lived on his own as a rogue for three years! They’re in the Underworld, Nico’s home, and Will - WHILE ON DEATH’S DOORSTEP. LITERALLY. - is more powerful than him! For no reason! Nico is a Big 3 kid! He’s SUPPOSED to be extremely op! We don’t even see Nico speak to any true ghosts the entire book and they even acknowledge that he’s Ghost King!

And then on top of it all, the narrative keeps treating Nico as not knowing what’s best for himself and making Will always correct. Or making it so Will is the only one who is able to comfort Nico ever. And have Nico constantly refer to Will with almost exclusively babyish pet-names - “Night-light,” “Care bear” (when logically Nico shouldn’t even know anything about Care Bear lore?), even “sun therapy lamp” isn’t great. The constant “My little ball of darkness” also isn’t great? Like, if you establish that Nico’s extremely short, then it’s not as bad cause then it’s a height joke, but since the book never establishes that it just reads as more infantilizing.

I get they were trying to hype up Will for this book and let him have some action scenes so it wasn’t just Nico dragging him through the Underworld for 50 chapters while he does nothing but be emotional support. And Nico’s powers usually means he very often acts as an almost literal dues ex machina in a lot of plots. But you can still work with that without nerfing Nico so much, or completely infantilizing him! Just because Nico has trauma doesn’t mean he can’t be capable on his own, and that doesn’t have to negate him having people he leans on for support! These things can coexist!

[mdhwrites]

Did you know my books are a third the cost in Brazil?

Self indulgent post about the fact that I’m an independently published, original author is self indulgent! But I wanted to share some inside information because someone in Brazil picked up two of my books this morning, one each of the two prices I put them out for, and so the topic came to mind. So first: Why are my books cheaper in Brazil? Is it a glitch? NOPE! It’s actually entirely on purpose! See, I regionally price all of my digital books (physical ones are... more complicated) to make them literally as accessible as possible for their price bracket anywhere in the world. After all, asking for 3 USD in the UK or US is a lot different than asking for 3 USD in Brazil where their purchasing power is a lot weaker. By lowering the price there, I make it even possible for people to buy them. For anyone who wonders why Brazil is known to pirate so many games:This is a large part of it. They literally can’t afford to play AAA games and survive on what they make. But uh... I mentioned price brackets? And specifically two of them? Well, for all of my digital books (available on literally anything with a web browser), I sell them at one of two prices and that’s what the bulk of this blog will be about. Oh, and all of this is while dealing with only Amazon. I don’t know other sellers because... Well, Amazon dominates the e-book market and has special incentives for publishing only with them so for someone like me who can’t handle proper marketing and the like, dealing with just them is nice. Also, I can’t sign up for these perks for converted fanfics without taking down the fanfiction version of a story so if you’ve ever thought those works don’t come at a cost for me, they do and a VERY real one that I could discuss in another blog. The first is 2.99 USD and is for the majority of my works. Crises Girlfriends, when it eventually comes out, will likely be at this price. This isn’t because of some online guru or because the number means something to me. It’s literally the lowest you can price a book on Amazon while having a 70% royalty rate on purchases. This means I make roughly 2.05 USD on any US purchase. For those curious, I made 80 cents on the Brazil purchase of a 2.99 book this morning so the 1/3 statement isn’t 100% accurate but I consider it close enough. This also means that for the majority of my books, I need to sell somewhere between 30-50 copies to actually profit from them due to the cost of their covers. I... haven’t made a profit on the majority of my books. Not through sales at least. *sigh* This is honestly only one part I could do about how I make money from my books. Now this rate has some drawbacks. Just like 2.99 is the minimum price, 9.99 is the maximum price. Also, they take from the sale a distribution cost for transmitting the file before divvying up the royalties so if your book has a lot of art or is just HUGE then that cost could be detrimental. Most of my books are novellas though so it’s usually not too bad for me and I’m not looking to price them very high. But what about the other price point? That would be .99 USD and is one I use either as almost a promotional tool (possibly for the first book in a series) or because the work is a bit shorter or a bit weaker than my others. Still good enough to publish but one that I’m less confident on. These are set at a 35% royalty rate. This means I make .35 USD on any US purchase on these FLAT. For Brazil it was .13 USD. And I mean flat. There’s no distribution cost with this rate and the price I think can go as high as like... 199.99? I don’t know because I really don’t care about the maximum prices. Again, I like my books to be accessible so I price low. Ideally, I’d price ALL of my books at this lower bracket to make them as accessible as possible. I still want to do that actually for Crises Girlfriends because I think that book could do some real good in the world. Buuuuuut Crises Girlfriends’ covers, front and back, cost me 100 dollars roughly because these cheaper books don’t get cheaper covers. (Honestly, I wish I could afford to pay my cover artists more because they REALLY deserve it. Or that I was successful enough to throw them residuals on my books.) That means if I put Crises Girlfriends in this lower price bracket... I have to sell THREE HUNDRED copies to break even. And because it’s converted fanfiction, there’s no but to that. That is the only way I would make my money back on putting it out to a wider audience like this. And if you’re thinking “What about the physical copies?” I price those so I make roughly the same off a physical sale as I do a digital sale. You support WAY better with digital sales than you literally ever could from physical. The most I make on my physical copies right now is I think there’s one set at about 12 dollars for the physical version and I get close to 2.50. And that’s a 2.99 book. Printing costs are a bitch. I’ll finish this note by reminding people that I do put out free content though through fanfiction. The one I keep bringing up is ‘Crises Girlfriends’ with the premise of Amity and Luz meeting and falling in love in a Crises Recovery Center. That is not what fixes them and their problems though, so it also includes them going through therapy and treatment there to tackle their problems and I have gotten great comments like “It feels like you’re putting your audience through therapy with this,” from it. It’s entirely done, it will be getting bonus chapters when the conversion comes out and I hope you enjoy it if you check it out. The original version should be coming out at the beginning of May: National Mental Health Month here in the US.

[twicelivedsummer]

finding/inventing Dothraki personalities: Aggo

compilation ; Aggo ; Jhogo ; Rakharo ; Irri ; Jhiqui

I’m making a little series where I stare at everything the main Dothraki characters do and try to discern personality traits. The purpose of this is sort of “if you were to write a fanfic that actually fleshed out their characters, what’s a starting point? what is there, that we might not destroy in trying to build something larger?” It is not to claim that GRRM, um, wrote these characters well. But I do dislike rounding down to zero when it’s not literally zero.

For Aggo, let’s start with Daenerys asking him to be her bloodrider: all three of the people she asks refuse, but they give distinct reasons. The words are very close together, tightly paralleled, so starting here means we can be confident that the differences are intended. Aggo’s refusal is:

Aggo accepted the bow with lowered eyes. "I cannot say these words. Only a man can lead a khalasar or name a ko."

Compare this to Jhogo’s "this is not done. It would shame me, to be bloodrider to a woman": notice that Aggo emphasises the tradition and presents himself as passive—he is so conservative that he speaks it as outright impossible for him to break with tradition. (Rakharo’s is completely different.) If I squint I can also see it in "Blood of my blood," she heard Aggo echo—the ‘echo’, specifically.

Dany thanked him and told him to see to the repair of the gates. If enemies had crossed the waste to destroy these cities in ancient days, they might well come again. ... One of the guards that Aggo had posted saw him first and gave a shout

Daenerys knows her bloodriders, and tasks Aggo with seeing to their defences; and he furthermore posts guards... in the middle of the wastelands... ‘conservative’ pairs neatly with cautious.

Jhogo and Rakharo and their Dothraki helped those who could still walk toward the shore to bathe and wash their clothes. Aggo stared at them as if they had all gone mad

On a literal level, this is because just before this She beckoned Aggo closer. "Ride to the gates and bring me Grey Worm and fifty of his Unsullied." and so he has not been here to be shamed into helping despite "It is not good to touch the dead," said Jhogo. "This is known," Aggo and Rakharo said, together. However on a, uh, symbolic level, this is fitting to, uh, represent how he is the most conservative and traditional.

"Khaleesi," Aggo murmured, "there sits Balerion, come again."

um see he is drawing parallels to the Targaryen tradition that Daenerys just told them about

"It was her fate, Khaleesi," said Aggo.

He says of Eroeh. . . Jhogo has just described what was done to her, in terms of people taking actions; Aggo’s worldview, his filter, is in comparison passive-voice: the world is how it is and it is outright impossible to break with.

Aggo sat calmly notching arrows to his bowstring and sending them at tokars. Silver, gold, or plain, he cared nothing for the fringe.

Jhogo and Rakharo are fighting here, but adjectiveless; Aggo is calm in the midst of the battle.

I get an impression of age from him, but we’re told they’re all Her brave young bloodriders; brave warriors, but they were young, so I will settle for inventing that he’s like a year or two older and made a mountain out of it. Maybe him and Quaro (died end of AGOT) being a little older than Jhogo and Rakharo... idk.

Now we’re getting right down to the frequency analysis/pareidolia where I take tiny samples very seriously so I’ll link to the ~every-line collection;

‘Aggo and Rakharo’ appear together slightly more often than Aggo-and-Jhogo? This works for me because Rakharo strikes as mmmaybe the least ~traditional, so you could play up that contrast to get a dynamic with him changing and Aggo as backstop.

I am also assigning Aggo ‘unquestioning’ on the basis that he uh literally never asks a question. Not even once. afaict.

"The khal needs no help from women who lie with sheep," barked Qotho. "Aggo, cut out her tongue." Aggo grabbed her hair and pressed a knife to her throat. Dany lifted a hand. "No. She is mine. Let her speak." Aggo looked from her to Qotho. He lowered his knife.

In AGOT Dany VII he isn’t sure whether to obey Daenerys or Drogo’s bloodrider;

Cohollo caught her. Fingers in her hair, he pulled her head back and she felt the cold touch of his knife at her throat. "My baby," she screamed, and perhaps the gods heard, for as quick as that, Cohollo was dead. Aggo's arrow took him under the arm, to pierce his lungs and heart.

here in VIII he quickly kills one of them, protecting her. Also an example of him being very good at archery.

The trader vaulted over the stall, darting between Aggo and Rakharo.

perhaps not so quick/good with melee? let’s say it’s so. When Arstan first shows up, Aggo kicks the staff out of his hands but Jhogo does more in the same timeframe.

Rounding out the character with the all-of-them stuff: the young archers of her khas were fluid as centaurs excellent rider, Jhogo and Aggo were digging a firepit to burn the dead stallion, physically strong, Her brave young bloodriders had stared off at the dwindling coastline with huge white eyes, each of the three determined to show no fear before the other two not getting seasick but hates the sea, standard vaguely macho stoic thing, "It is not good to touch the dead," said Jhogo. "This is known," Aggo and Rakharo said together, standard Dothraki ok honestly this one doesn’t count as superstition, that’s just germ theory, Yet Dany could not bring herself to abandon them as Ser Jorah and her bloodriders urged would rather have ditched the freedmen of Astapor, They kept her khalasar together, and were her best scouts too competent at commanding other Dothraki and scouting.

To pull it all together: there’s a concept in there of which calm and conservative and cautious and defensive and traditional and passive and unquestioning are all facets; the world is as it is and maybe you can minimise your losses but there isn’t, on a deep level, really a possibility of change. He finds his place in the hierarchy of his society and is good at what he’s supposed to and. stuff. This implies he’s slotting Daenerys as a one-off-exception (and not system-breaking) really hard, I guess?

....pretty sure this concept is “an orientalist stereotype" or one millimetre away. uh. to put more distance between that, i recommend leaning into the defensive/pessimistic angle, playing up/inventing the contrast with jhogo and rakharo who i swear are different hopefully i will get to their ones soon, and of course thinking about his internality and development: making up stuff about how he got here, how it feels from the inside to think like that, how he’s assimilating his experiences over the course of the books. there’s also “character development that changes his perspective” but personally i would choose him for one-who-moves-slowest.

final random fact:

Aggo gave an urchin a copper for a skewer of honey-roasted mice and nibbled them as he rode.

choice of snac

[sukirichi]

the morning after – gojo satoru ver!

warnings: slight dirty talk and suggestive content, like the yuuji one, nothing too explicit! Oh and a teasing, cheeky gojo :>

masterlist ! (photo not mine)

It doesn’t hit you until you’re whacked by an arm in the face. Literally.

You whine and push the foreign weight away that smushed your nose at the impact, less than pleased because you’re having the best of your life, but someone had to ruin it. Nevertheless, you refuse to open your eyes and settle into the warmth that encases you in that moment. It reminds you of your precious unicorn plushie you left back at your apartment; cuddly, precious, keeps the nightmares away, but the best part about this human teddy bear is that he’s all firm muscles and body heat instead of fur cotton.

Wait, what? Human?

It’s when you hear the man stirring above you with a husky groan that you freeze in your spot, eyes snapping wide open your vision blurs for a split second. The first thing you see is smooth skin and firm pecs, followed by a slender, strong neck and a sharp jawline – oh god.

So last night wasn’t a dream.

Clenching your teeth and even biting the inside of your cheeks to stop squealing – more out of embarrassment and shame than happiness, really – you slowly reach up between your squished bodies to pinch your cheeks, bringing blood and feeling back into them. No wonder you’ve slept so well last night, and as someone who prefers pulling an all-nighter until you pass out in the middle of an anime series, it’s quite rare to find a good eight hour sleep.

It’s not like you had much...activities performed that would take up too much energy. Until Gojo Satoru came, the teacher from the Tokyo school, and also the notoriously infamous “strongest jujutsu sorcerer.”

You’ve had a crush on him the moment you’ve started working as a teacher in the Kyoto school. Utahime, who was closer to him, was incredibly appalled when you told her one day about your raging crush on the white-haired man who looked absolutely breathtaking with his blindfold, but without them?

Just the thought of having seen them last night, when he was between your legs, no less, has you inwardly groaning and cringing so hard you feel so shameful that you can’t even look him in the eye. Satoru is fast asleep above you, one of his strong arms lazily draped over the curve of your waist and his fingers brushing against your bum. When you shift a little to give you both space, his fingers begin to hover dangerously close to a sensitive area and you let out a tiny squeak, muffling it with the back of your fist before he awakens.

This man had the Six Eyes – the last thing you wanted was for him to sense and notice the little things and wake up. No, you had to leave before he even gets the chance to move.

The chances of not waking him up was pretty slim, but you’ve always been proud of your sneaky movements that you try anyway. Fortunately, Satoru doesn’t seem to be a hardcore cuddler because he doesn’t pull you back when you finally slip past the sheets.

You freeze for a moment at the edge of the bed, still in disbelief that you actually slept with him. No, no, that’s wrong, you’d have slept with him anytime if he allowed it but – he actually slept with you. It’s not that you’re looking down on yourself because you’re also a special grade sorcerer and could stand your own ground confidently, but your powers when it comes to exorcising and your social skills are two different things that don’t even come close together.

You’re not worried that a special grade curse would kill you and take away your privilege of finishing that new manga you bought in your day off because you know you could handle it easily, but as a person, there’s a stark difference between you and Satoru.

True, he wasn’t exactly liked by everyone because he refused to be limited by rules and regulations, always claiming that one should not be hindered by the narrow-mindedness of the others, but it was something you really admired about him because you’re not like that. You’re old school, sticking by the book, much like his co-worker Nanami Kento who equally hates overtime, and while Gojo Satoru was loud and confident, you’re more of the person who stays by a corner during a party.

Which is exactly what happened last night at Utahime’s birthday party – aka the old wrinkly principal isn’t here so let’s get wasted type of party.

You’re not surprised that Gojo Satoru walked in, but when he did, you had to clutch your spirit water and drink it in haste because he’s got you feeling thirstier than you did last night – and you drink your water plenty. But how could you remain sane when he looked so gorgeous in just his uniform and his laughter has butterflies erupting in your stomach?

Truth was, you’re satisfied watching him from afar. It’s not like you ever plan on asking him out or being his friend because you’re sure Satoru has better things to do and prettier people to talk to, so when he sits next to you in the desolate leather couch, legs crossed over one another and his arm right behind you (although not touching, he respects your space) you nearly pass out.

One thing leads to another, and you find yourself writhing under his arms, shamelessly crying his name over and over again until the dead hours of the night that has his ego inflating.

You don’t remember how or exactly why it happened, but definitely, alcohol had to be involved. There’s no way Gojo Satoru would actually notice you, much less sleep with you, when he’s completely sober, which is why you scramble around the room with the blanket covering your bare body as you look for your discarded clothes.

If he wakes up and sees you, he’ll probably regret everything that happened last night, if he remembers any of it, anyway.

But you’re most definitely mostly sober through the whole thing, so you remember how good he was in making you feel like a goddess. The way he sucked on your neck, licking a stripe at your burning skin while his large hands groped your breasts possessively, all the while rutting in that perfect spot that has your eyes rolling at the back of your head with your nails running down his back – you shiver just thinking about it.

Gojo Satoru really has that effect on people.

You hide your flustered state and quickly pull on your undergarments, about to slip the sweater over your head, only to die on the inside because you realize you’re wearing those full cotton panties instead of sexy lingerie. With a groan, you fight back the urge to cry. But then again, who could blame yourself for not dressing sexily? It’s not like you had any idea that this would happen.

You’re halfway through your jeans when Gojo’s husky morning voice breaks through the silence. “Leaving already?” you hear him smile, although your back is turned to him, face completely morphed into terror. “Such a shame. I was actually thinking shower sex sounds nice – if you’re into that, of course.”

“Satoru,” you greet lamely with a bow, avoiding the way his stunning eyes raked over your form with an unreadable dark expression. “Uh, you’re awake, and...good morning, I guess.”

Gojo smirks at your flushed cheeks, and it takes everything not to stare at the way his biceps strain from the way he supports his head, hair sticking in every direction and looking absolutely sexy in the morning light. “Good morning to you too, Y/N,” your breath stifles, because he knows your name? “Although it would be an ever better morning if you weren’t such in a rush to leave,” he chuckles, “It makes me feel like maybe you regret what happened last night.”

Your head snaps up at his words as you shakily wiggle your arms, “No, that’s not true, I loved every second of it! It was...it was the best night of my life,” your cheeks tinge a shade darker when Gojo beams at your words, chest almost puffing out proudly. Shyly, you turn away from him and fiddle with the hem of your sweatshirt. “I just...I didn’t think you’d still want me here around, because you were drunk last night and all and I thought maybe you’ll regret it, which I don’t want to happen so yeah, I just thought I’d leave before I get to...” you clear your throat awkwardly, “...be rejected like that.”

“Y/N,” his voice falls an octave lower, the thoughts in your head growing so loud you don’t even hear that he’s already left the bed, and now he’s cradling your chin until you’re forced to witness the galaxies burning in his eyes. “You thought I was drunk last night and did it because I was just horny? That I would regret it and forget all about it?”

His proximity has your breath stuttering, your eyelashes slapping your cheeks as you blink rapidly. “Well, uhm, I’m not really your type, so I think it was safe to assume that.”

Gojo hums at your words, his calloused thumb running over your lips. A small smile flits across his face when he remembers how much of a good girl you were for him last night, obediently opening those lips up and letting him bask in the warmth of your wet cavern before swallowing all he has to give. Funnily enough, Gojo isn’t the best with his words, so he just tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before sighing.

“I wasn’t drunk,” he finally admits. The confession has you slipping from his grasp, but Gojo snakes his arm around the small of your back to pull you to him, the warmth of his bare skin seeping into your clothes. However, it’s nothing compared to the lust and adoration burning in his eyes – one you can’t properly fathom in this clouded state. “Tipsy, sure, but I assure you I was aware and sober for every little part,” his lips hover at your ear, one of his hands coming at the back of your neck to tilt your head to the side, granting him access to the hickeys he’d purposely left.

Just the sight of his markings on your perfect body has a tent growing in his pants. You feel his erection rub at the pad of your jeans, eliciting a small whine from you, and this makes Gojo resist the urge to bend you over right then and there. But he doesn’t do that, because he knows your body is too tired from his ministrations, and he’s nice enough to give you a break – even if that’s not exactly what your burning core wants at that moment.

“Like the way you clenched around my cock when I hit that sensitive spot of yours,” he laughs when you shiver at the way his breath tickles you, “Or how pretty you look when you cream around my cock, begging me to go harder because you can take it, and baby, I promise you, I loved it just as much as you did.”

Finally, Gojo pulls back, and he’s extremely satisfied when he sees how small and innocent you look just like that, as if he hadn’t just folded you in half to watch the way your pretty pussy welcome him and take him better than anyone else just hours ago.

“But,” he continues, “I think I enjoyed it a lot more, considering I’ve wanted to do that for such a long time now,” at his words, you furrow your brows, and that’s when he realizes his mistake. Gojo reverts back to his usual lighthearted self and fans his hand out almost comically with his hands on his hips. “I mean, not just the sex, though it is amazing, but having you close is what I meant. Like holding your hand or getting to kiss you,” he sighs dreamily as if you’re not in the same room as him.

“Uh,” you awkwardly begin, unsure of what to say. “Are you saying you like me?”

“Yeah,” he smirks, which shouldn’t have been such a sexy look on him, but because he’s Gojo, it was. “But Utahime said she’d cut my balls off if I even get near you. Thank goodness she was too drunk last night to ever see it, but I’m glad I talked to you. I’m just ashamed I’m only saying this after the sex but...would you like to go out with me?”

Thanks to his Six Eyes ability, Gojo is blessed with the privilege of seeing you malfunction before him as you try to find your words.

[ouraniatm]

well, this went just about as cora expected. then again, she can't blame idia for his reaction - he had a point. after everything that happened, not just in her life but between the two of them only followed by the incident at styx, which left her permanently scarred - literally ... she chooses to stay? the notion was ridiculous, it seemed highly irrational, but cora thought this through. none of her decisions weren't of unconscious act, even her past actions which hurt him...this was one of those cases. perhaps you could say this was her first free act or just plain stupidity leading her to think this was the best outcome...whatever the case, cora knew better now.

icy eyes stare at idia, who frantically rambled his mouth off as mere usual, before scoffing and pulling off a little. ❛ hahhh...how did i know you'd freak out? ❜ she begins sarcastically. ❛ travel the world...? max out my stats? please...you're saying that as if i ever gave a damn 'bout those. don't even get me started on "dating long distance"...you and i both know that's not what we want. ❜ she pauses to look away, her gaze now filled with something...well, she couldn't say what it was, but the best way to describe it was sadness.

❛ yeah, i wanted to get away...but, not really from styx... ❜ she frowns, trying to keep her gaze away from topaz ones. ❛ i was... running away from my problems. cutting everything i actually care for, burning bridges on purpose without ever looking back and hurting everything around me...you were right, y'know? back then... ❜ that argument, which instigated everything, that she will regret for the rest of her life...her fist tightens. ❛ i did leave when you needed me the most, just like vise versa. we pushed each other away, never saw eye-to-eye and got too stuck in our own worlds...i guess you can say we're both at fault. ❜ nothing but a realistic, non sugarcoated perspective, cora would say. then and there, she got off the bed and stood up with her back facing idia.

❛ that's why i wanna stay. not 'cuz of some cliché outcome nor to do a "good deed", but to make things right. this shit's been going on for too long, idia...something's gotta happen. call me stupid or batshit insane, i don't care...i just... ❜ her body visibly shrinks, head lowers and voice trails off but it's still loud enough for him to hear her. ❛ i just...can't be without you, again...not after everything...i don't wanna go back to how it used to be...i...want us to be partners. besides... ❜ it's then and there she finally looks back at idia, her eyes gazing down with unseen determination. ❛ who said i'd be there as your underdog? who said...we can't take charge of styx, together? ❜

"W...What..??" Idia pulled away from Cora just enough to turn his head and look at her in surprise. Did he really just hear her correctly..?? After everything that happened in her life, she was wanting to stay in Styx with Idia..?? That was ridiculous. Surely she saw that, right.?? Idia didn't have the choice of whether or not he wanted to lead Styx, but at least he could give Cora the freedom she so clearly wanted.

Idia chuckled uneasily as he looked at her. "You, uh... You don't actually mean that, right.??" It was stupid for her to stay there just for his benefit, especially since her family's connection to Styx seemed to be the root of her problems. Idia could see that now. He recognized that she was hurting after being forced into this life... He couldn't look past his own pain to see that in her until now, but now that he did, he wasn't going to let her damn herself like that.

"H-Hey, Cora... Please tell me you're kidding... All you've ever wanted was to get away from Styx, right?? Are they brainwashing you or something??" Idia searched her expression for anything to tell him that she wasn't serious...but he saw nothing. "W-We can still date long distance, you know..!! You can travel the world and do whatever you want, max out all your stats or whatever, and we can just...video chat or something..!! I don't want you to trap yourself in that life again..." She's free now...