#It's the sense not the actual height itself

[tammyhybrid21]

CONSIDERING My whole mess yesterday with heights and acrophobia coming to remind me I do have it...

I was just sitting here thinking about Emmet and how the fandom loves to characterize him with a fear of heights. Ingo less so, but I've seen it for him to, which not my personal headcanon. I subscribe to Ingo having thalassophobia tbh, which I'll expand later... BUT--

Emmet and heights... and I am going to project SO MUCH of my weirdness about it onto him later(in a more in depth post) but for now.

Emmet has absolutely had some bad days where just like me yesterday... Emmet has stood up, and his hindbrain has gone. "Oh no, THAT'S TOO HIGH, WE ARE DANGER, PANIC! GET BACK DOWN!" vertigo and shaking, and having to slowly sink back down to the ground.

He has also 100% had days where entering Gear Station is a hazard because nope, nope, you are looking at the stairs down into the Subway... and that's... that's a looooong way down. You cannot, not today. That's verrry far down, too far down. You are too high and cannot go down...

He has to rely on Ingo and maybe Eelectross for steadying. Because nope, can't do it alone.

It's not just Planes that are bad man.

Fear is just dumb. And phobias evil. Emmet will have days where he is fine with things and then a day later it'll be like, nope, this is too much. It's worse when he's had big stressers. He probably got stuck in their house for a while after Ingo vanished because that combined to make walking feel like "Oh, I am too high, too high, danger" for a good while.

In other news...

Crawling is good, and thank everything for pets that see free snuggle opportunities.

[rervraiilstew]

THEORY: Abilities, The Fourth Dimension, and Gozen.

A small preface! Several points in this you could probably start throwing rocks at me and say that I'm reaching too hard and/or thinking about this too deeply and/or that I'm wrong. Most of the way through this I’ve felt like I’ve put on a tinfoil hat and have flown off the rails and phased through onto the other face of the flat earth(/j).  

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The main focus of this entire theory is that abilities are directly related to the fourth dimension.  

Abilities And the Natural Laws They Break: 

Facts to note: 

The fourth dimension is time. 

Several abilities deal with time, space, and/or matter (and gravity if you want to count that.) 

And some examples of those abilities are: 

Space abilities: 

“Space related abilities” refer to abilities that affect a space or create a space that goes against existing 3rd dimensional constraints—length, width, height—either in intercepting a space or creating its own space. For example (and one of the best examples of this), Lucy. 

(BSD Chapter 15, ~ Page 36)

Other space ability users include: Rimbaud, Poe, Louisa, Nikolai, Kunikida, Akutagawa, and Tanizaki. Some more so than others (Lucy, Poe, Tanizaki, Akutagawa). For some it only loosely applies or needs some justification/explanation for it to apply (Kunikida, Louisa). The best examples by FAR are Lucy and Poe. 

Time abilities: 

“Time related abilities” refer to abilities that break normal laws of time. I.e. by slowing it down/stopping it, repeating it, speeding it up, etc. Some ability users have abilities that deal with both space and time (again, prime example being Lucy ) usually by having an ability that creates or inhabits its own space with its own time.

Other time ability users include: Louisa, the Meursault cat-girl, Oda, and POSSIBLY Teruko depending on how you look at it. 

Matter abilities: 

“Matter related abilities” refer to a LOT of abilities in bsd. Any ability that allows someone to shapeshift, create something, destroy something, or change something is matter related. A lot of these abilities likely even go against the law of conservational mass; however, they might not if given the correct explanation. 

For example: Akutagawa. You could argue the matter is not being created with his ability(though it's unlikely) and that the extensions from his coat are still the same mass as the part of the coat it’s from. This could be achieved by Rashomon becoming less dense and more fluid in relation of how far away it’s stretched from Akutagawa’s coat. And because his ability is said to be able to cut through space itself, that would also count as a space related ability. 

And for an example of an ability that most definitely breaks the law of conservation of mass, is Thou Shalt Not Die. Sense her ability can heal things like lost limbs, blood loss (S1 Tanizaki, S4 Kenji), etc., matter must be created for her ability to work. You could not give an explanation like Akutagawa’s, because her ability results in injuries being fully healed and that part of the body remaining functional.  

Other matter ability users include: Atsushi, Kyouka, Kouyou, Fyodor, Pushkin, Ivan, Shibusawa, Natsume, Mushitaro, Tetcho, Melville, Jouno, Steinbeck, Mori, Lovecraft, and Teruko (again, depending on how you look at it). 

Teruko’s ability: 

Teruko’s ability could be argued to either be a matter ability, or a matter AND time ability. On one hand, it could be taking the actual previous and future ages of the person she’s using her ability on (kind of like Mirai from TBHK iirc). In this case, it would be a time and matter related ability. On the other hand, it could just be changing the person’s physical appearance and anatomy based on factors unrelated to the actual “keyframes” past or future of that person's life. In this case, it would only be a matter related ability. 

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How Abilities Work:

Abilities are, as previously stated, directly related to the fourth dimension. That's what gives them the ability to manipulate 4th Dimensional and 3rd Dimensional elements like time, space, and matter.

Each ability is it's own very niche gateway to interacting with and breaking basic structures and laws of the third and/or fourth dimension.

-----

Dazai and Gozen:

Gozen:

Quick circle back to Fyodor: 

What confused me for so long about his plan is why is he wanting to manually kill off/start war against all ability users instead of using the page(<- probably dysfunctional) to get rid of abilities? If he truly wants to purge the world of “sin” (abilities) then why kill the people who didn’t even choose to have an ability (/who didn’t choose to be exploited by the government)? Why not get rid of the problem itself: abilities?  

And a possibility is that ability users would die without their abilities. If he simply writes abilities themselves out of existence and ends up getting all ability users killed, then to him it would've essentially been like killing a ton of innocent people. He's antagonizing them for his own sake as well as for his plan to group everyone together through a common enemy/fear.

And then there’s how the deaths from Gozen’s sword are portrayed. 

Which circles to “why the bubbles?” For one, it's a way for the death to be more easily communicated to the reader. Simply drawing a character just lying in a puddle of their own blood can be easily misinterpreted as them simply being heavily injured but not dead yet. The bubbles are a stylistic choice to show that there’s a difference in the nature of deaths caused by Gozen compared to any other way of dying. 

The “death” that Gozen gives to whoever he kills is not essentially just death itself. The heart doesn’t stop, the body doesn’t die, and the brain is still intact up until it gets turned into bubbles. 

Gozen severs the connection between the ability user and their ability. And given that: 

Gozen is a fourth dimensional being 

Fukuchi’s ability  

Fyodor’s objective to kill ability users + his control over Gozen’s actions(and therefore how Gozen interacts with the 4th dimension) 

Gozen is perfectly capable of severing the ability-ability user connection. With access to the fourth dimension, the strength (Fukuchi’s ability) to cut that connection, and the will and instructions (Fyodor) to do it, it could be possible that that’s how Gozen is killing off ability users. 

(BSD Chapter 115, ~ Page 30)

Dazai:

Given how abilities work, I propose that Dazai's ability can be summed up as being like an enzyme inhibitor but for abilities.

And Gozen's killing mechanism and Dazai's ability are really fucking similar. Gozen permanently severs the ability, whereas Dazai temporarily inhibits the ability.

However one piece of evidence I can provide is that Dazai's ability relies on him DIRECTLY touching the ability user or the physical mass of the ability. His ability places a temporary blocker to stop the connection between the ability user and their ability, which requires that either the physical manifestation of the ability or the ability user's body is touched so that the blocker can actually have an affect and therefore nullify the ability. And this is why Dazai's ability does no harm to the ability user, but Gozen's does.

Dazai's ability never permanently harms or changes the connection between an ability and ability user. Gozen's, however, does.

And this whole theory arguably makes Fyozai even gayer. What do you mean that you ensured that the killing mechanism of the divine being you smushed together is just an amplified version of your ex's ability?? gayass.

(small little addition to this theory)

 

TLDR: Abilities operate in the fourth dimension. Gozen kills by severing the connection between an ability user(3rd dimension) and their ability (4th dimension). Dazai’s ability(temporarily blocks the connection between an ability user and their ability, kind of like an enzyme inhibitor) is a toned-down version of Gozen’s killing mechanism. 

[hydrobunny]

never took me quite where you do

tags: established relationship, fluff, silliness

a/n: based on king of my heart. (which was also my eras surprise song!!)

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

"you haven't had a girlfriend?" you ask, surprise coloring your voice.

rin itoshi stares at you like you've suddenly got infinitely stupider. "not before you."

"that's," you start, then stop. actually, now that you're really thinking about it, it does make sense. "you know what, yeah. seems about right."

offense glares in his eyes as he leans away from you. "the hell does that mean?"

you raise your brows. "what do you think, rin?"

he fully untangles his limbs from yours at that, shoving himself off of the couch. you protest at his motion - a little halfheartedly, but the effort is there .

standing up to his full height, rin itoshi glares down at you.

you blink up at him, smiling with all the innocence you can muster. "yes?"

"do you know how much fan mail i get?" he grits out. "how many chocolates i've gotten on valentine's?"

it takes quite a lot of effort for you to not start laughing. "i do know how popular you are, yes. you should see the edits on tiktok."

"so why-" rin falters. "edits?"

"go on."

it takes him a second. "i could've had a girlfriend if i wanted to," he says at last. "i just didn't."

you nod, still biting back a smile. "mhm. i'm sure all the girls would've loved you after seeing that personality of yours." you scoot over, offering up the space on the couch again.

rin continues to stare, but you can see his will weakening. "not like anyone wanted to date your lukewarm ass either," he says with a finality.

you snort. "i thought you grew out of that word."

he rolls his eyes.

"also- factually untrue. i've had boyfriends before."

and rin's entire demeanor switches. "what?"

you wave your hand, dismissive. "not like a lot, but. an average amount to have for a high schooler, i think. none of it was ever serious. not like you," you grin.

rin doesn't return it. genuine shock bleeds through his face; he turns on his heel. "i'm going to bed."

"wha- rin?"

forty five minutes later, you breeze into your shared bedroom. your teeth are freshly brushed, your skin lotioned, and you're almost ready for a good night's sleep.

"are you actually still mad about- what the hell are you doing?"

rin freezes, one hand still on the computer mouse. from your vantage point, you can see every pixel on that screen.

"is that my high school boyfriend?"

he turns in the swivel chair, very clearly not in bed. the classic 'itoshi indifference,' as you've coined it, masks itself over his face.

you step closer. "rin. is that, or is that not, the instagram profile of my ex."

he nods, slowly.

"can i ask why you're looking at his profile?"

he begins to shake his head, and then changes his mind (a good choice). but rin itoshi has never been too good at keeping himself calm-

"he's unemployed."

there's a beat of silence.

"sorry?"

"jobless. a leech on society. useless as a human being," rin continues. "a complete ass of himself, basically."

you stare at him. he stares at you. and then-

you burst out laughing. "are you serious?"

rin seems surprised by your reaction. it makes you laugh even harder.

"oh my god- you've been stalking his socials? for the last, like, hour?' you broke your stupid athlete sleep schedule for this?" there are genuine tears welling in the corner of your eyes. "for a guy i dated years ago?"

a little self-conscious now, rin stands up. "i was trying to sleep for the first twenty minutes. after that.." he trails off.

and you slam into him with a hug, still laughing. "i love you so much."

he stiffens at the initial contact, but gives into your touch the moment after. "i love you too?"

you hum into his ear. "they don't matter anymore. you know that, right? they never did- not seriously enough. you're the only one."

rin doesn't reply.

"and i know you could have any girl you wanted. but that doesn't matter to me. because you want me. and i will never get enough of you, rin itoshi."

his voice is a low murmur. "me neither. no one's ever compared to you."

and he presses a kiss onto your lips, and it's better than anything you've ever had.

[crystallizedtwilight]

Nightmare Before Christmas AU Overview:

OVERVIEW: This AU follows the events of the movie The Nightmare Before Christmas. Taking place a few years in the future, it focuses on the adventures of Lock, Shock, and Barrel as young adults. The trio has since been welcomed into the town by Pumpkin King and Queen Jack and Sally, though they still live happily in their treehouse on the outskirts. They enjoy life under their own command, free from the now-deceased Oogie Boogie, causing mischief and pulling pranks on the good folk of Halloween Town. Throughout their continued adventures together they discover that growing means learning about themselves, each other, and dealing with change. But one thing remains constant—they'll always be birds of a feather, now and forever.

BACKSTORIES: The trio came to Halloween Town under unfortunate circumstances. Each of their families had lived in the human world, as many monsters do, either nomadically, elusively in the wilderness, or by masquerading. The trio were all born in different parts of the the world during the height of monster hunting. They were three fortunate cases who were found by other monsters and taken to Halloween Town as orphans.

Once in Halloween Town, the trio often ditched school, feeling they weren’t as accepted as the local kids, and deliberately caused trouble which earned them a bad reputation. The three bonded over a love of mischief and the feeling of being outcasts, so when Oogie offered them a life free of rules, they were easily convinced to leave the town entirely to become his henchmen.

Unbeknownst to them, the reason monster hunting took place during that time was because Oogie was rampantly devouring human children. Essentially, they were orphaned because their boss had given humans in several towns desperate cause to hunt the supernatural.

They would not come to learn this until after Boogie’s death. They grew up resenting humans for orphaning them and were horrified to learn that they'd worked for the monster who forced humans to defend themselves as well as let their parents take the fall. Nowadays, they choose to give the human world a chance by regularly traveling all over the world.

LOCK:

Lock is an imp, which is a type of devil. He has nocturnal vision, speed, and a natural desire to climb to very high places. He can often be found on the roof of the treehouse or up a tree when he needs to think. In the human world, imps are stealth hunters in deep forests, preying on deer and other local fauna. However, Lock has a diet of junk food and candy since he was raised without these hunting skills in Halloween Town.

Imps are naturally solitary creatures and dislike group settings, so no imp has ever come through Halloween Town. This, unfortunately, gave Lock a subconscious sense of loneliness and doubt. This is why he tries the hardest to keep the trio together by rejecting any change, which at one point resulted in a huge argument with Shock when she wanted to start attending coven studies a few days a week.

Of the three, Oogie’s abuse rooted itself mostly deeply within him, as Oogie played into the “who else would want you” angle Lock already felt as the only imp in town. He often overcompensates for his insecurities with arrogance and acts childishly, selfishly, and even meanly at times. However, under it all, he has a good heart and just wants to know that his friends aren’t going to leave him.

Lock and Shock are rivals who motivate each other, constantly bickering over which one of them is actually the leader of the trio. At the end of the day, they respect each other's skills and would do anything to keep their friend safe, but you'll never hear them say that.

Eventually, Lock begins a casual fwb relationship with Barrel, under the terms "as long as it doesn’t change anything”—worried that if they labeled themselves and it went sour, he could lose his friend. Barrel, who had always been in love with him, happily agreed to these terms. However, despite insisting that they were only friends, Lock finds himself extremely jealous when another ghoul, Belladonna, takes an interest in Barrel.

Lock is overwhelmed to realize that he actually does have feelings for Barrel but has likely missed his chance with him by insisting they weren't together, and Belladonna is probably better for him anyway. In an emotional confrontation where Lock accidentally scars Barrel’s arm with a bite, the two finally confess their true feelings.

SHOCK:

Shock is a witch, which is a type of magical entity. Of the three, she is the most confident and intelligent. Most witches will start coven studies at a young age to learn how to harness their magic, however, growing up under Oogie, she was discouraged from doing so. After Oogie’s demise Shock found herself determined to pursue her dreams of magic. Unlike how it had affected Lock, Oogie’s vicious words of “you’re not good enough” were only fuel to her fire, and she took all that anger and turned in into passion for her studies. 

She demanded that Halloween Town’s coven mentor her, even though she was older than the typical witch who was just starting her studies. The coven saw her passion and agreed. The studying has three phases: master flying, master potions, and master hexes, and one cannot be learned until the previous is mastered. The process takes years but Shock is currently deep in her potions phase and can often be found nose-deep in a book or foraging for herbs. Mastering hexes is her dream and she is eagerly chasing it.

One night, while out for a flight, Shock encounters a banshee crying in the moonlight. Shock learns that her name is Calliope and the human family’s line that she watched over had comes to an end. Shock instantly feels drawn to her and they quickly become friends. Shock secretly makes it her mission help Calliope feel happy again. Eventually, the two develop romantic feelings for each other as well.

BARREL:

Barrel is a ghoul, which is a type of demon that feasts on the flesh of cold, buried humans. Like Lock, Barrel was raised on junk food and candy in Halloween Town so that’s the diet he prefers today. Ghouls are naturally nomadic due to their diet, needing to find different graveyards to dig in to avoid being caught. However, many ghoul packs often breeze through Halloween Town for events, and are genuinely regarded fondly by the locals since they’re always polite and up for a fun time.

Of the three, Barrel is the most easygoing. He wants to hang out with his friends more than he wants to prank people, but is always up for fun nonetheless. He also keeps scorpions as pets. Regarding Oogie, Barrel walked away the least scathed because Shock and Lock intentionally took the brunt of his anger to protect him since he was the youngest. This left Barrel with a sense of guilt for not being strong enough to protect his friends back then. However he’s worked through that by deciding he would never let either of them be hurt again now that he could hold his own.

Barrel always had a crush on Lock since the moment he met him. The feeling was not mutual, and it wasn’t until Barrel kissed him much later in life that Lock even entertained the idea. Despite this, Barrel continues to love him timelessly and patiently, despite Lock still having a lot to work through and trouble recognizing his own feelings.

CALLIOPE:

Calliope is a banshee, which is a type of fairy that heralds death. She is sweet-natured and very new to the ways of Halloween Town, having grown up in the human world. She loves dogs since, like her, they also warn humans of danger. She has taken a liking to Zero in particular.

Calliope develops feelings for Shock who not only helped her feel at home in Halloween Town, but also helped her find her happiness when she never thought she'd smile again. Nowadays, Calliope is happier than ever before.

BELLADONNA:

Belladonna is a ghoul who lives in the human world with a pack of other ghouls. They masquerade as a human band/roadies, live nomadically, and actually put on some good concerts. Ghouls don’t kill or cause any harm to humans (they love their audiences!) but they do eat corpses by raiding graves at night. They breeze through Halloween Town once or twice a year for big events.

Belladonna is instantly attracted to Barrel when they meet at one of Halloween Town's formal parties. She is fun, good-natured, and helps Barrel learn about what his kind is up to in the human world.

JACK:

Jack still reigns as Pumpkin King, alongside Sally whom he recently wed. Regarding the trio, Jack feels guilt for overlooking them when they were children. Jack had a no-kill policy when it came to humans and Oogie Boogie did not—due to this conflict, Jack banished Oogie to the outskirts, and he is the reason the town has a guarded gate.

Jack was especially bitter about this rivalry, since he used to be friends with Oogie, and declared that Oogie would never be allowed into town again. Moreover, anyone associated with Oogie needed a by-name invitation from Jack himself before they’d be allowed into town. Even though the trio were just children at that time, Jack declared there would be no exceptions, and ignored the fact that the trio were actually in real danger with Oogie, which he found easy to overlook since they were so ill-behaved and rude to him.

At the end of the movie the trio have a change of heart and warn the townsfolk that Jack, Sally, and Sandy are trapped in Oogie's lair. Even though Jack was able to defeat Oogie before needing the town's assistance, this helped him see that the trio are actually good kids and he was wrong to ignore their circumstances for so long.

Nowadays, Jack tries very hard to make up for his mistake. He has declared that they are welcome inside the town, removed the gate, and regularly defends them when they prank the townsfolk (and Jack himself). Sometimes, Jack tries too hard, requiring their attendance at Town celebrations which the trio roll their eyes at. They regard Jack as a nerd, but know he is well-meaning. The mayor still dislikes them, but trusts Jack’s judgement.

SALLY:

Sally, now Pumpkin Queen, gets along quite well with the trio. Because she is so clever, she’s the only person in town they’ve never managed to prank, and she even managed to prank them once. Though Queen is her title, sewing is her passion and she happily has taken up the job as town seamstress, eagerly designing clothes for all the wonderful shapes that call Halloween Town home, trio included.

Shock actually enjoys Sally’s company and thinks of her like an older sister, even confiding in or asking her for advice at times. Lock is still a bit skeptical and cold with her since he is forever done with authority figures, though Sally finds him funny. Barrel likes Sally just fine, and really enjoys how soft and comfortable she makes all his clothes.

OTHER KIDS:

Growing up, the trio didn’t like the inner-town kids (Corpse Kid, Mummy Boy, and Winged Demon, as they’re referred to in the movie). The trio saw them as “goody-two-shoes” who grew up nice and cushy inside the town gate, happy to follow Jack’s ever order, and going home to loving families every night. However, the inner-town trio prove to not actually be so bad and take earnest steps to make the trio feel welcome in town after Oogie’s demise.

MISC FACTS: ▪️ The trio regularly utilize the towns tomb portals to travel all over the human world. They're particularly interested in celebrations or festivals that are similar to Halloween. They're technically not supposed to interact with human festivities so openly, as fear of the unknown gives monsters more mystery and therefore more fright factors on Halloween, but Sally knows they do so and keeps their secret: [1] [2] [3] [4]

▪️ They upgraded their treehouse to be more spacious: [1] [2] [3]

▪️ They gave each other piercings to signify them being friends forever

▪️ The three of them were brought to Halloween Town just days apart. They were then named as a unit after the merism. However, they did have other names before they arrived, though they no longer want to use them.

▪️ None of them know how old or when their birthdays are. They mark time in a very general sense by how many Halloweens it feels like they've had together.

▪️ This AU began as sketches in 2018 and I posted my first art of them publicly in 2020. I was inspired by the Photo Booth pin. I thought it would be fun if the trio took pictures in the more modern sense, capturing their shenanigans with selfies and documenting their mischief, which is why the first couple drawings are framed that way.

The second thing that inspired me was the screenshot of Oogie saying he’ll decide which of the trio to eat when they displease him, and the general theory that the masks in the treehouse are from previous victims whom he had eaten. I thought since Jack destroys Oogie at the end of the movie, maybe the trio gets the chance to grow up, hence an AU about their happy, older years.

ART TAGS:

🎃 Entire Nightmare Before Christmas Tag

💘 Lock/Barrel Tag

🩵 Calliope Tag

💚 Belladonna Tag

🤩 Fan Art of My AU Tag (THANK YOU!!)

INSTAGRAM:

best_trickortreaters

[anothermaletfwriter]

Soft and Sweet Macademia

Braydon was your typical jock, he loved to workout with his homies and be with his girl. She was Bethany, a nerd. Not that competitive gamer nerd he dreamed of, but rather a bookish one. They met a party and she instantly fell in love with him as he fulfilled the “nerd x jock” trope she had long yearned for.

Today, he was dragged by her to the bookstore for a special promotional event. In the brightly lit modern store that made him regret not bringing his sunglasses inside, a large bright green banner with low quality black bold typography said “Try An Extrasensory Novel today.” There were brightly green bookshelves of new trending books below it. A scent of macadamia nuts punched his nostrils.

“What the fuck?” He sniffed the air like a weirdo, “Do you smell that?”

“I don’t smell anything. The nearest coffee place is on the other side of the mall,” Bethany said, fixing her freshly dyed red hair. She had painted his white bathroom like a crime screen in an attempt to save hundreds of dollars.

“You must have lost your sense of smell then. It’s so pungent.”

“It’s not a spill. There’d be ants crawling all over this place right now.”

“It’s driving me fucking crazy,” Braydon dug his big hands into his scalp, subtly flexing his bicep, which was tightened by his white compression shirt, “I need to find out where it's coming from.”

“Right,” She rolled her dark eyes and flashed an attempted smile, “While you have your Telltale Nut moment, I’m going to the fantasy section. Wanna join me?”

“No. You know I don’t care about that stuff.”

“Are you kidding me?” She looked up at him, only reaching up to his chest. Her eyes ready to kill the muscular jock in front of her. “I play your games with you, watch those movies with you. Is it much to ask wish for my boyfriend to be actually into books I like. Plus dressing in a dark academia style.”

“More like I’m gonna dark macadamia nut in you when we get home after this," From his towering view over the shelf, Bethany walked herself to the other side of the store, her arms crossed. He imagined her annoying grumbling to herself. He knew she wasn’t a perfect fit so why should she assume he was?

The scent intensified as he knelt down on the bottom row of the shelf. His long legs extended far out, acting as a trip hazard for any unfortunate passersby's. While he had expected a spill of someone’s overpriced coffee, the smell lead him to single out a specific book. He swiped it out, brushing through the pages for any soaked spots but he couldn’t find any. The scent seemed to emanate from the entire book itself. He landed back on the cover, which was unappealing and bratty. While the background was a flat color of an obnoxious green, the text was a horror show. It was stretched out and in low quality. It read “Absolute Calculus: Being Open To Changes in Extrema”. It appealed to the jock as he was familiar with the concept of calculus, notably from the math classes he had to take for his finance degree. He believed he was better than the rest of his field as he took harder math classes than them.

Turning to the back, the blurb was soft and easy to the eyes with its soft tropical fruit palette of oranges to greens. It was a self-motivational book. Its main thesis pointed out the ultimate cause of human suffering: simply being unopen to novel things. It included knowledge, lifestyle and even experiences. He needed this

By the time he had flipped to the table of contents, he didn't realize he was getting smaller in height and build. His clothes became oversized on him, resembling more pajamas than a casual attire. While he was repulsed by some of the chapter titles, including accepting your non-het sexuality, he was unable to put the book down. This wasn't him. No matter how hard he pushed on his now dainty fingers, his eyes and hands were glued to the book, turning the multiple pages. He felt himself deflating and shrinking. He noticed that his once mountainous biceps had become nothing but flat plateaus and his impressive set of pecs deflated into a meager chest. He coughed violently as his Adam's apple shrunk, turning his mountainous voice into a soft dainty one.

What the fuck was happening? His soft fingers with nails painted in green flipped to Chapter 4: Self-acceptance is the key to accepting others. He tried to scream for Bethany to help but he didn’t know her. It would be rude to call out a stranger. But that couldn’t be right? That was his girlfriend. No, she was just a random book girl at the same store as him. His experiences of throwing week long benders and sleeping with a carousel of women afterwards faded. They seemed more like videos he had watched online than a lived reality. Visions of conquests of women replaced by men conquering him. The book had converted his heterosexuality into an irreversible total homosexuality. He was no longer the buff jock that sat next to the hot girls so he could be grouped together with them back in college. He was the quiet gay guy that sat in the back of the class, often wooed by the more upfront and passionate gay men that wanted him and his body. His eyes, once clung to women, had shifted its vision to guys. He wasn’t one to be picky, as he liked everything from twinks to hunks and everything in between those two. Even the dad-bod was something that turned him on.

Chapter 12: It’s All Perfect As It Is. With a dizzy head, he finished the book and returned it to the top shelf, struggling to place it even on his tippy toes. Brady felt a quick chill breeze through the room. He dug his hand underneath his oversized fuzzy hoodie and felt the smooth stomach flatten out. His memories of Bethany and her red-hair morphed into a different person. It was another Asian twink, they held their hands together in a cozy apartment and played on their Nintendo Switch. The earthy charcoal cologne he recalled using became sunshine vanilla perfumes that his boyfriend, Jeremy, purchased for his birthday.

The slim twink approached him, hugging him from the behind. Brady was only up to his shoulder. It felt good with his liking to being the little spoon.

“What took you so long, Babe? I looked at ten books while you were just looking at one?” Jeremy chuckled.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. You know I like taking my time with books.”

"Well there's other books in this store, babe," Jeremy teased, bopping Brady's nose.

They checked out the rest of the store, leaving with a few romance books purchased in their pink heart decorated totebag. They bumped into another couple on the way out and briefly apologized to them. He looked at the tall muscular man dressed in his beige jacket and black shirt, wishing that he was also into guys. He whispered to Jeremy about jokingly asking him if he wants to be their 3rd if they see him another time by himself.

Jeremy and Brady cuddled on the couch together, their bag of books untouched on the clean coffee table. Jeremy was always the one to initiate, including a make out session with Brady. Their lips were soft and fruity as they embraced each other with their tongues on their soft couch.

They spent the rest of the day on an impromptu spa night. They applied a green jelly mask, consisting of green tea and aloe vera, to their faces and wore cute soft pink headbands. It was a typical zen they practiced every week. Stress and such can cause more damage than one could imagine. They turned on the TV to watch the adaptation of CardiacPauser, Jeremy and Brady’s favorite series. Before they returned to the couch, they took a picture together in their bathroom, holding each other with their large smiles. It was just them and the rest of the world. This is what he was meant to be and nothing else.

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

"Undress me, caress me...I just want you to fuck me"-!? ₊ ⊹ ꩜

synopsis: multiple excerpt quotes from Sylus + specific scenarios to go with!

tags: teasing, choking, possessiveness, riding, pet names, size kink, vulgar and explicit language, pure smut, slight dialogue spoilers(?)

wrd cnt: 0.5k

a/n: my L&DS debut!!! Okay...So i've been playing for a bit now (very low level ) but I've been gathering lots of thoughts based on my interacts with Sylus now that I finally unlocked him and l've got some to share hehe

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆…“𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐀𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐬' 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐈 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭?”

There’s not much more than a handful of weaknesses in Sylus. But you know exactly how easy it is to get your way with your lips to his neck. It seems to good to be true, how easily he falters when you jump into his embrace, letting him lift you up to his height in order to give yourself easy access to plant kisses onto the side of his exposed neck. Give him hickies while making out and he’s a dog for you.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆…“𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟”

He just looks for excuses to punish you. To bend you over his lap and make you count each time he lands a full smack on your ass, to make you sit still while you cockwarm him or he’s going to bed and leaving you untouched, to use his fingers and nothing else til you apologize grandiosely like the mewling kitten he loves to see you as.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆…“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫…𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩? 𝐘𝐞𝐬? 𝐍𝐨? 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨?”

He can’t lie, well, he can actually…but he can’t deny that he loves to see your little face all flustered, the red hues painting your face, licking up the sweat dripping down your chest when you ride him; desperately rutting against him as sinful noises of skin slapping fill your senses. Almost loud enough to drown out his insinuating laughter, going on about how cute his sweetie is trying her best to please him. You really won’t need to try too hard.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆…“𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠”

Oh he’s possessive. Hands all over you, standing so close and never allowing you to feel lonely. His love language is a mix of quality time and physical touch. Cuddling is always a great time for you two to bond. He loves to feel your soft breathe hit the pillow as his hand rests on your hip, rubbing your skin up and down from your waist to the side of you leg while his face is resting atop of your hair, getting high off your scent.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆…“𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰…𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲.”

One thing about Sylus is he’s going to make you look at him. Eye contact is a language in itself. It’s especially fun for him to look into your eyes when he has you on your back, legs already spread and inviting him to pump his thick cock inside you for another hour if need be. His large, veiny hand held your neck in place with enough pressure to make you feel like you were levitating. His fiery red stare put you into a trace, eyes and body both engulfing you into him, all while he’s inside you.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[sunderwight]

Random thought but:

Those wide-brimmed pointy hats that witches and wizards are often depicted wearing are for traveling, right? That's what the brim is for, to protect from the sun and other elements. But the pointy part is probably ceremonial -- historically speaking most conical hats are often worn by priests or nobility to signify rank or role.

But sometimes in fantasy settings, wizard hats don't have the brim. But witches almost never lose the brim.

This indicates to me a shared origin between wizards and witches as traveling practitioners of magic. Which makes sense! If you only get a few magical people in a community, either because magical talent is rare or because it takes a lot of study to pick it up or both, then most magically inclined people would probably be in high demand. Which would mean that there was a lot of call for them to travel around and provide their services to place too poor or remote or unlucky to have their own resident magical practitioner.

But gradually, a divide begins to occur. Formally educated magical users are of course most commonly found in cosmopolitan regions (big cities) and can afford to stay in one place for a lot longer. Perhaps even exclusively, if the community is large enough to support them! So as more great cities establish themselves and also establish things like larger and better-funded academic institutions, a class of non-wandering magic user begins to grow. This group, i.e. wizards, signal their greater access to formal education and to wealthy patrons by dropping the brim from their hats. They keep the conical shape and height, to denote status and rank, but they get all bougie about the brim. Other attempts to flaunt success among wizards emphasize the lack of need to travel for work, such as building magnificent magical towers, positioning themselves in the courts of nobility, or building entire academic institutions dedicated to the study of the arcane arts.

Meanwhile rural communities still require the services of magically inclined people, but can no longer afford to entice wizards away from their status-defining sedentary lifestyle. Thus another class of magic user (witches) begins to define itself by their continued existence and work outside of major population centers. Since witches still travel and live in the countryside, their hats keep the brim, because they still need it to protect them from the elements.

This also explains the gender differential. While magical talent probably doesn't operate on the basis of gender, classism sure does. Girls born into wealthier families are often slated for marriage alliances and encouraged to treat formal education as an opportunity for husband-hunting, rather than actually becoming adept in or engaging with the professional use of magic itself. Which doesn't mean that none of them do it anyway, but there's probably a more marked difference between women who become wizards and men who do. Especially as wizards become more preoccupied with social status, and thus more likely to gate off access to certain levels of education, so that only either the extremely wealthy or the extremely talented can get at them. If a girl's family doesn't want to go to all the trouble of paying for a full education or compelling a skilled teacher to take her on, her options for pursuing it on her own are probably quite limited.

Meanwhile out in the sticks, magic users are such rarities that gatekeeping on the basis of gender is frankly too impractical, especially considering the degree of utility magic has for saving lives and livelihoods. It's just not that feasible to give a shit about the gender of the spellcaster who is saving your entire sheep flock from a bad case of bluetongue, or holding up a barrier that's keeping a recent landslide from burying your house, or getting the ghosts out of a local well that you'd really love to be able to actually use.

So over time witches become associated with women, even though it's more that they've got a 50/50 split whereas wizards heavily favor men. In the way of things, this actually become a self-fulfilling prophecy over time, because men who develop magical aptitude see witchery as "women's work" and are more likely to try and save up and move to the city to learn "real" magic, or else try and differentiate themselves from female witches by creating their own distinctions between what they do and what women spellcasters do, carving out particular areas of focus to be the masculine fields of magic.

This would probably create even more distinct classes of magical users -- the male witches who still do the usual magic work in rural regions but don't like to be called witches, and so do something else to distinguish themselves in an equivalent of stamping a No Girls Allowed sign on their door (warlocks?), who probably still keep the wide brim on their hats but perhaps ditch the pointy part in a middle finger to the elitism of wizards (and also to ensure they're less likely to be mistaken for witches), and the magically talented people who make their way from the country to the nearest cities to try and join the wizard class. Though this group is more likely to struggle due to a lack of social or financial clout, and probably has to depend way more on having enough sheer natural talent to draw the eye of a benefactor (sorcerers?). Most of them would be men too, because of increasing social attitudes that men were just better at this "type" of magic would mean that women would have a harder time getting backing, but there would probably be some who were ambitious enough to nevertheless go for it and then end up in a related-but-still-gendered category of their own (sorceresses?).

Because classism, it seems likely that these underdog country-to-city spellcasters (probably also joining in with impoverished but talented locals to the metropolitan areas too) don't get the pointy hats unless they manage to actually succeed in being absorbed by wizard establishments, but also don't keep the brimmed hats because those are associated with being a bumpkin. They're hat-less, or else wear a completely different style. They probably also get a bit of a shady reputation because there are a lot of predatory institutions that scoop up magically talented individuals who don't know how to navigate the relevant social institutions, and then basically embroil them in debt or whatnot in order to exploit whatever magical talent they have for whatever profits are to be gained.

Of course you probably also have the opposite class of people, i.e. formally trained magic users who decide that trying to rub elbows with kings and rich people is stupid, and take their training to go off and save villages from mudslides and such instead. They're basically witches again but with a fancier pedigree, but of course coming from the outside of it they lack the community knowledge to navigate regions as well and also now there's this split from the Boy Witches Who Won't Be Called Witches, and probably what counts as Girl Magic gets very regional, so what jobs you do or how you go about casting spells has an irregular impact on what the locals will call you if you aren't a woman. If you're a woman you can probably take the witch label without as much issue. But since the fellas started as wizards, then, they more likely still call themselves wizards in the face of all this, but the big city wizards do NOT want to be associated with them (unless they do something really impressive that they can share credit for), so there has to be a new category for them (hedge wizards?) to differentiate from proper wizards. Anyway they wear the big brimmed hats again, because that's just practical. Whether they wear tall ones or not probably varies between individual and regional implications about it.

So. Yeah. Magic user hat politics, with bonus gender nonsense.

[amaea-jewels]

THE CONQUERORS | LEVERAGE

—— summary: In a world where soulmates exist. Your fate has been sealed to the dragons who burned down your home.

—— genre: Dark!au, soulmate au, yandere

—— warnings: Obsessive and possessive behaviour, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, some very light angst, smut

—— pairing: Aegon Targaryen I x female!reader, Visenya Targaryen x female!reader, Rhaenys Targaryen x female!reader

—— word count: 5k

*no beta we die like bruce wayne's parents * first-time writing, english is not my first language

Never before had you experienced such overwhelming terror. You were a collected person by nature, content with allowing chaos to unfold for others, more so even when you had a hand in creating the chaos. Yet, tonight, it appeared that the karma of all of those nights of "fun" had finally caught up to you.

You found yourself being dragged by two strangers, being forcibly led toward the direction of one of the larger tents positioned at the farthest edge of the camp. You had known you were fucked from the moment your eyes had first locked with violet ones. You had felt the bond snap in place. Those violet eyes, the ones that had burned ypur home to ashes, now held you captive. Your life was now entwined with those haunting eyes that had taken your family from you.

You briefly entertained the idea of ending your life. The tent that they were leading you to was situated relatively close to a cliff. Though you were unsure whether the height would prove itself to be fatal, you felt more than ready to take the risk.

Choosing to end your life would be much more honourable than warming the bed of those who had caused your family's demise.

Newly formed soulbonds were meant to be consummated, and you were well aware that the longer time you spent with them, the more inevitable it would become. You knew that it was only a matter of time.

Ending your own life would save you from that fate.

The thought quickly leaves your mind, as you finally arrive at your destination. A sense of relief washes over you upon seeing that the tent is empty. However, that relief swiftly fades away as you are pulled toward the large bed situated in the room's centre. Your arms are tightly bound by sturdy metal chains, anchoring you to the master bed. You sigh, leaning your head against one of the pillows, attempting to find some rest.

The next several hours pass like a blur.

New guards take the place of the former standing right outside the tent. One usually remains on guard while the other leaves — you're not sure why. The idea of you actually being able to escape or cause any kind of damage is laughable at the very least. How would you be able to run whilst tied to a bed with metal chains?

You know it's late when one of them finally shows up — the darkness that fills the room is more than enough of an indication — it's the older one you realise after a few moments of watching her. Her hair was beautifully braided into intricate patterns. She was beautiful but there was an air of darkness that seemed to cling to her. She swiftly took off her ringmail, not even sparing you a glance, as she started undressing.

You did your best to avert your gaze, as she undressed herself fully. She turned toward you, recognising your presence for the first time since entering the tent.

She sauntered toward you. Her cold harsh unforgivable violet eyes digging into you. You're keenly aware of the fact that she's still not wearing anything, as you keep your gaze toward the side. Attempting to hide yourself from her.

She seizes hold of your jaw, redirecting your gaze toward her, eliminating any possibility of evading her. With a firm touch, she runs a finger across your face. The bond hummed at her actions.

"So you're the one."

Eyes still cold as she studies you carefully. Her hand which was previously caressing your cheek, start travelling down south. Stopping briefly at your throat, giving it a light squeeze before moving on, her hand stops when it reaches down to your waist.

She presses her naked body closer to you, keeping the eye contact as she dares you to do something. An amused smirk crept onto her face, at your obvious discomfort. The both of you stay there for a few minutes. Neither speaking, as she continues to study you with those violet eyes of hers.

Simultaneously, she seizes both of your hands, releasing her grip on your jaw and waist. She brings both your hands up to cup her breasts, as she brings herself closer to you. Both of your bodies pressed tightly up against one another. She slowly starts grinding herself against you. Disregarding you completely.

You start thrashing against her desperately attempting to move your hands away from her body. Suddenly, her grip on your hand loosens, and one of her hands swiftly flies up to encircle your throat, exerting firm pressure to keep you in place. You look up to study her facial expression, to see every ounce of amusement had disappeared, instead replaced by a serious demeanour. She leans in intimately, bringing her face close to your ear.

"You fight so viciously, just like your family. What a shame that couldn't save them from their fate," she speaks venomously, "but there's still some of them left, aren't there?"

She looks down at your horrified expression. A smile starting to bloom across her face.

"Your nephew, what was his name now? Was it Flammin? Fliden? No, it is Florian, is it not? Such a sweet young boy. Just passed his fifth naming day hasn't he?" she taunted a wicked smile still present on her lips, "it would be such a shame if his life was to be cut short now, wouldn't it?"

Tears welled up silently in your eyes as the weight of her words began to settle in. Florian, a young boy, was the sole family you had. His mother had succumbed to childbirth, and his father had fallen victim to those ruthless monsters. Florian had always been a frail and sickly boy. Without proper attention, he wouldn't survive even a fortnight. You had dedicated countless nights to his care since his birth, nurturing him in the absence of your older brother. Who always had matters of the court to attend to.

You felt guilt prickle away at your chest. You had completely forgotten about him. In your defense, you hadn't even been sure he survived. Most had suffered the cruel fate of being burned alive by dragon fire. But surely if Queen Visenya knew of his existence, that must've meant he was still alive?

You didn't answer. There was nothing to be said. She had won. And you could tell she knew that too from the smirk that was covering her face. Slowly her hand started slipping down your body again. Coming to a halt when she neared your breast. Keeping the eye contact, she started palming them. Realishing in seeing you melt. As the bond started to hum even stronger.

"Visenya" a female voice called from behind, halting Visenya’s movement, "playing your games again, aren't you?"

"I have no idea what you refer to," she snapped, keeping her back turned toward the woman, "I was simply familiarizing myself with our bonded."

The woman standing behind Visenya was beautiful. With silver hair that swayed openly down her back. It took you a moment, to recall her name; Rhaenys. The youngest of the three conquerors.

You continued to stare at her shamelessly. She was beautiful, both of them were. You absently noted, that her violet eyes were lighter than that of Visenya, there was also a sense of playfulness in them. You presumed that made sense, from the rumours you had heard, Rhaenys was supposed to be the more kindhearted and playful of the three.

Rhaenys' eyes flicked down briefly to meet yours. You were met with a comforting smile, as her eyes flickered up to meet her the older again.

Her lips parted, and unfamiliar words flew from her mouth, a language entirely unknown to your ears. Amidst the unfamiliar words, you faintly understood the mention of the name "Aegon."

Aegon. You're body subconsciously shivered at the mention of his name. It had been him who had discovered you. After the burning of your home, the survivors had been brought before their new king. They were to bow and hail him for his mercy. It was at that moment when your eyes had locked with his, you both knew.

Words had not been exchanged. He had simply walked through the crowd and grabbed a hold of your wrist where your mark was located. With one simple glance at the three-headed dragon symbol marked into your skin, there had been no point in denying it. King Aegon had motioned for his men to take you, as you stood frozen to your spot. He started barking orders for his men to follow, but you could barely make out any word he was saying. Head still reeling from the revelation.

You could feel the irritation radiating off of Visenya as she completely let go of you. The two continued to speak in a foreign language, as Visenya dressed herself once more. The two seemed to be on the verge of arguing before they both left, leaving you alone once again.

You lay sprawled across the bed, sleeping peacefully until the gentle touch of an unfamiliar hand caressing you, caused you to startle awake. Your eyes were still drowsy with sleep, and it took you a minute to fully recognise the person sitting in front of you.

"Aegon," you whispered in shock.

You had only just spoken the words when you jerked away harshly, your body moving on its own accord. You were unaware of when you had fallen asleep last night. You must've drifted off the sleep while lost in your own thoughts.

"Hello," he greeted warmly, edging closer up the bed toward you. You didn't answer. To dazed by sleep to fully comprehend what was going on.

"You must be cold," he tried again. You could feel he was attempting to start up a conversation and unlike Visenya, you had an irking feeling he would want you to respond.

"I'm fine," you responded meekly.

He hummed, seemingly not convinced. He inched himself nearer toward you, aligning his thigh with your reclined figure, the pressure causing the bond to hum. Encouraging you to move closer toward your bonded. You relented. Despite whatever desire that remained inside of you to give in to the bond, and allow for them to do whatever he wished to you. You could not forget the screams of your people as the dragon fire consumed them. How could you ever forget? When their screams would haunt you to the night you die.

“I apologize for Visenya’s behaviour. She can be very . . . . forward to say the least.”

You nodded, accepting his terrible apology and excuse, so you could move on to what was important.

You sat yourself straight up. “My nephew, is he well?”

“He is well,” Aegon confirmed. His finger returned to your face once more, as he started trailing your features. “I can assure you no harm shall come to your nephew, as long you as you remain with us.”

While his words were meant to be comforting. The underlying threat was not lost on you. The message was clear: attempt to run and your nephew would suffer the price for your foolishness. Instead of arguing with the man who held your nephew’s life in his hands, you opted to change the conversation.

“What time is it?”

His reply came instantly. “Late at night. By now most, if not all, have retired to their tents.” His finger continued trailing over your features, now reaching your lips. He applied firm pressure, eyes keen on your every expression, as he moved on to fiddling with your hair.

“Where are your wives then?” You had not meant for the words to escape as bitterly as they did. But at the very thought of Visenya and her complete disregard for your discomfort and family. You couldn’t help the root of anger that was settling over your heart at the mention of her.

“In their tents, resting for the night.” If he had heard the bitterness in your tone then he was certainly ignoring it. He kept a comforting smile on his lips. You furrowed your brows at his answer. Should the Queens not be on the side of the King? While it wasn’t fully uncommon for spouses to have separate rooms, you would’ve assumed bonded like them would remain together.

He seemed to be able to tell your confusion for a moment had not passed before he started explaining himself. “My sisters enjoy having their own separate beds. I fear they would argue far too much about the other stealing all their space. Though I suppose that may perhaps change with your arrival.”

Sisters. They were siblings. Right, you had completely forgotten. The Valyrian custom you had heard so much about. It had completely escaped your mind that all three conquerors were of the same blood and of the same father. Disgust crept its way through you at that revelation.

“Should you not be sleeping?” You quickly said after realising that you had spent far too much time pondering about the strange Valyrian custom. “I much rather spend my time with you,” he replied smoothly. Eyes flickering up to meet yours again.

“And how fun that must be, staring at me sleeping.” You bit back, before realising you had spoken back to the King. “It is indeed,” he replied back rather amused, “especially with my name rolling off your mouth whilst you slept.”

Heat begin to prickle at your skin at his words. Surely you did not?

“What were you dreaming of?” He asks.

You're aware that he’s only asking because he already knows the answer. And despite you not remembering the dream, you're also keenly aware of the sheet of sweat that covers you and the way your undergarments seem to cling to you. You internally curse yourself. You recognise it to be a symptom of not having the bond consummated immediately after your initial meeting. The heightened sense of arousal, the sexual dreams and the need to be in one another’s presence. Direct symptoms of the bond. You remember your mother’s stories of bonded ones meeting for the first time. They usually consummate the bond at the exact moment they meet, the frenzy of the bond simply too strong to resist.

“I don’t remember.” Only a partial lie, you truly did not remember, however, you had an irking suspicion toward what that dream contained, as did he.

He laughs a quiet yet dangerous sound that strokes a fire inside of you. “Perhaps then, I could help you remember. It was after all me you were dreaming of.”

The meaning of his words caused your body to grow fully warm. “You’re flattering yourself far too much,” you lamely attempt.

He moves closer toward you at those words. As you started slowly crawling back from him. A large smirk grew on his face. “I’m sure you like to think that, wouldn’t you.” He drew himself nearer, standing so close to you, you’re faces were merely an inch apart, “but I heard the way you called my name, so sweetly.”

“I did no such thing.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” His voice drops down to a sensual tone, “I myself have to admit that I have found myself dreaming of you plenty of times throughout the day,” he closed his eyes momentarily. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you writhing in pleasure beneath me.” He begins, keeping his eyes closed as if he was imagining it right now. “Or I see you laying on this bed, my sisters between your legs, worshipping you with their mouths, bringing you to ecstasy over and over before I finally take you.”

Your heart starts pounding fast. In fact, you’re not sure if your heart has ever gone this fast before. You feel warm. Too warm, despite the coldness of the night seeping into the room. You can feel your pulse in your throat and the dryness that has settled over your lips.

“So tell me once more, what was it that you were dreaming of?” He asks in a hushed voice.

“Nothing.” You reply quickly, averting your gaze toward the exit. The idea of running away from this entire situation seems suddenly very appealing.

“So you don’t wish for my help?”

This time you don’t reply too afraid of giving the answer that you truly wish to say. After a moment of pure silence. With you ignoring his longing eyes, he decides to change his approach.

“You must be feeling so desperate.”

You don’t respond too afraid to say anything anymore. He leans toward you. You can feel his breath in your ear. You can feel the ache between your legs growing stronger.

“We’re not meant to go this long without each other,” he whispers delicately against you, “you know that. It’s only been a couple of hours. Yet, your body is aching for me, just as I am for you.” He glides his tongue against your cheek. Fire spreads everywhere he touches you. “Poor Visenya could barely contain herself from want. I had to order her and Rhaenys to leave you alone or else I fear they both would’ve ravished you the moment you entered our camp. But I convinced them it would be best if I warmed you up to us first. That all of us at once, forcing your attention upon us. Whilst your mind was still reeling from loss would be far too much.”

Your breath comes out shaky as you struggle to contain your own wants. It would be so wrong to give in. They had murdered your family. They had even threatened the only one that remained. Briefly, you wondered how things could’ve been different if you had met under normal circumstances. Telling your mother how happy you were at finding your bonded, asking permission to court you properly once the frenzy of the bond had passed. How different it all could’ve been. Instead, it was them who had robbed you of all of that. Your mother was dead, and so was your father. There was no need for a courting period for there was no one alive for them to ask permission for your hand from.

“Give yourself to me.” Aegon’s voice is rough with wanting like this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “I know you feel it. I feel it, too. You yearn for me, you crave my touch. Let me make you feel good, let me ease that ache you feel. Give yourself to us, and in return, we shall give you whatever your heart desires.”

“My heart desires for my family to be alive, tell me can you make that happen.” You snap back tears brimming into your eyes at the mention of your deceased family. A full night had yet not even passed and here you were dishonouring them all by giving yourself to the man who had killed them.

Something shifted in Aegon’s eyes at those words. Violet eyes growing stern much like Visenya’s had. His hand grabbed at your jaw bringing your eyes up to meet his. The familiarity of the situation was not lost upon you. As you stared up into his beautiful violet eyes.

“What happened to your family was their own fault had they simply bent the knee as I had asked of them. There would be no need for the pointless slaughter of your people,” his grip at your jaw tightened, “but I have been merciful have I not? I could’ve burned the survivors in dragon fire as well, but I did not. I could’ve killed your pathetic nephew who continuously begs my guards to be brought into your presence. But I do not. You know why?” He rubs the tears falling from you eyes away, “for I am a merciful King, but that does not mean, I shall remain one.”

“What is merciful of you burning my family alive? It was our King who made the decision to not bend his knee, not us!” You shouted back, jerking yourself free from his hold. "You say it’s mercy letting us live. Very well, then go ahead kill me. Give me the solace of being united with my family once more.”

He laughs, coldly at your little display of anger. “Very well, but remember that you asked for this.”

He backs away from the bed, grabbing his sword on his way out. “Wait! What’re you doing.” You desperately yell after him, “I told you to kill me, to punish me! Wait!”

You struggle against the metal chains keeping you tied to the bed. Your screams for Aegon to stop echoing through the night. Soon those screams are replaced by those of others. Dread fills your being as you realise what was happening.

Tears stream down your face your throat becomes sore from your sobbing. Eventually, you fell asleep, tears still streaming down your face.

Upon awakening, a throbbing headache greeted you—a consequence of having cried yourself to sleep. The light streaming into the tent suggested that it was now daytime. You glanced down at the blanket enveloping your shivering form. Vaguely, you remembered someone entering the tent late at night after you had drifted off. Whether it was Aegon or another you weren't sure. Exhaustion had overwhelmed you to the point where the mere thought of opening your eyes and checking was too much.

After throwing the blanket on you, the person joined you in bed. But remained at a comfortable distance so as not to disturb you. As you stirred around, you became aware that the person had left.

You sighed, running a hand through your face. The metal chains still digging painfully into your wrists.

The events of the previous night played back in your mind on repeat. A sense of dread fills you. What would the consequences be if you continued to reject their advances? How far would they go to keep you in line? How many would die as a consequence of their anger? Would they kill you if you continued to deny them?

You remained sprawled on the bed for several hours, unable to free yourself from the metal chains that bound you. Eventually, tiredness overcame you, and you slipped back into slumber. When you stirred again, it was to the sensation of someone shaking you awake.

"You must be starving," the voice observed. You recognised the voice; Rhaenys.

Before you, she stood, as breathtakingly beautiful as you remembered her to be. It took a moment for her words to fully register, and then you nodded in agreement. The audible growl of your stomach served as a reminder of the prolonged time you had gone with the absence of food—it had been two full days. Rhaenys smiled, offering you a plate of food. Without a word, you accepted the plate and began to eat. Rhaenys remained silent, unabashedly observing you as you ate.

After finishing your meal, you silently set the plate on the side table. The room fell into a hush as the two of you sat in silence, you with your gaze fixed on the floor, and Rhaenys studying you intently. Suddenly, she rose and positioned herself directly behind you on the bed, your back pressed against her chest. A surge of fear gripped you—what was she planning? Would she force herself on you as Visenya had done, or would she threaten you much like Aegon had done?

Surprisingly, she did neither. Instead, she pulled a brush and began running it through your hair. You started relaxing under her gentle ministrations. Eventually, she transitioned into braiding your hair skillfully. Two large braids took shape, and she proceeded to pin them up into an elegant updo, her actions gentle and kind.

"You shouldn't have said those things to Aegon, you upset him."

Her words sent a sudden jolt through your body, erasing any trace of comfort that had briefly settled into you. Instantly, tension gripped your frame.

"Your continued denial of the bond shall only bring pain to us. Embrace it. Acknowledge your destined path. You belong to us now," the calmness Rhaenys exhibited while speaking, caused shivers to run down your spine, "should you attempt to escape with your little nephew, our forces will inevitably hunt you down and bring you back. Half of Westeros has fallen to our whim, the rest shall soon follow. Tell me, who shall risk their lives and those of their kin to shield you from us? Last night, you incurred only a speck of Aegon's wrath, forcing him to unveil but a fraction of our might. Imagine the repercussions should you provoke us once more."

With that final word, she left. Leaving you once more in a state of fear.

Days pass before someone attempts to visit you again. Each day, a new guard came to attend to you, delivering food and bringing you to a nearby lake to clean yourself.

As days pass you begin to fight your own instinct. Begging for you to be near your homicidal bonded. Each night you were haunted by dreams of them, each dream leaving you more frustrated than the last. The fact that you know that they have been visiting every night while you pretend to sleep doesn't help.

It is on the fifth day of this behaviour continuing that you finally snapped.

A gentle hand traced along your back as your consciousness began to return. Most of your nights since entering the camp had been spent sleeping, daydreaming or reading. The familiarity of the rough hand hinted at Aegon's presence, a revelation that didn't surprise you. Although all three had taken turns visiting you every night. Aegon was the one that usually ended up curled next to you sleeping at night.

Upon feeling you stir, he retracted his hand from your back. Instantly your own shot up to stop.

“Wait,” you all but begged, “don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?”

His voice was rough, just like you remembered it to be. He hadn’t spoken to you directly, not since that night. You had heard him bark orders at his men and seen him conversing with Orys Baratheon. But he had refused to speak to you ever since you had snapped at him.

“Touch me, please.”

The pure desperation in your voice wasn’t lost on you. And though you felt heat creeping up your skin at your confession, you couldn’t deny how badly you needed him. After all, Rhaenys had been right. You were only causing yourself misery by refusing yourself what you wanted. At your request, his hand rubbed down the side of your waist. Your breath becomes shaky as you turn to lie on your back to face him. Aegon was staring at you intensely.

You didn't know what to say to him. How to voice out the desire building in your chest. So you settle for calling out his name. Your voice is dripping with desire and desperation. Gazing into those violet eyes, you catch a glimpse of the fire so characteristic of the Targaryens just before his lips meet yours.

There’s nothing gentle about the kiss shared between you two. It’s the kiss of two people who have been deprived of their true desires for far too long, your teeth bumping against each other, tongues twisting and tangling. His hand grabs a hold of your hair and keeps you in place. The bond hums loudly in approval of your actions.

Aegons draws himself back slightly to look at your expression, his free hand moving to palm your breast over your nightgown. You moan at the feeling. His other hand lets go of your hair to slither down your body and press against your core.

“You’re drenched,” he mutters breathlessly, slowing down his movements as he starts to tease you, “I could make you cum from this alone.”

“Please” you beg, your hips bucking up to meet him.

“I should make you beg me for it after everything you put us through.” His eyes are dark as he speaks, his thumb pressing hard against your clit, making you moan. “Luckily, I am a generous King. I can feel how much you need to come on my fingers.”

You nod wildly, as he inserts a finger into you, pleasure pulsating through you.

“You’ve been craving this, waiting for this very moment,” Aegon murmurs against your ear with a wicked smile. “You’ve tried to deny yourself, but you need me, you need my touch.”

You whimper pathetically, your hips rocking wildly aganist him. “Say it,” he demands, pushing another finger into your dripping core.

“I need you to make me come, Aegon. Please, my King, I need you so badly.” You purposefully empathize with his title, knowing what button to press to make him give in.

His violet eyes darken even further as he pulls you towards the edge of the bed, getting down on his knees in front of you. He makes swift work of removing your clothes. Before his lips descend down on you. You moan loudly your hand moving to entangle yourself into his hair.

Aegon mumbles something against your clit that you can’t hear, before teasing you with the tip of his tongue and then pressing it flat against you and rubbing it in slow circles. Meanwhile, his fingers moved to find that soft, aching spot inside of you and he purposefully pressed against it in slow, firm thrusts that made you tremble.

“Aegon, please” you moan, partly as encouragement for him to continue and partly because you want him so badly. You’re so close. Your entire body is tense and trembling; all you can think about is how badly you need to come, how much you are aching for your release. You’re so close.

“Aegon, please,” you plea again, truly desperate now. “Please my king. Please.”

You’re not sure if it’s what you said, the desperation in your voice, or if it’s just pure coincidence, but in that moment. Aegon shifts his rhythm, bringing you closer toward your peak and over the edge.

Your orgasm hits you hard. You have never felt anything like this before. You feel satisfied but also feel the ache growing stronger than ever before. He looks up at you a smile displayed on his beautiful, handsome face. He crawls up to you, pressing a deep kiss into your lips. He continues kissing you as he slides a hand down to your core again. Firm fingers pressing against you. “There you go, feels good doesn’t it?” He murmurs into your temple pressing a kiss against it, “I wanna see your expression this time. You can come for me again. Can’t you my sweet girl?”

He speaks as if it’s a question but from the way he’s pressing his finger into you. You know, you have no choice in the matter.

“Oh, dear, Lords,” you gasp loudly.

You’re doing so well for me,” he kisses you again. He lowers his voice to a sensual whisper, leaning in closer to your ear. “I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re trembling and coming all over me like the sweet girl you are.” It’s the combination of his words, his voice and his perfect hands that bring you over the edge.

“Yes, that’s it,” Aegon mutters encouraging, as he watches you. “You are so beautiful when you come undone like that.” He kisses you slowly. It’s only then you realise that he's still fully clothed while you lay naked underneath him.

You don't have time to complain. All of a sudden, he grabs hold of your body, manhandling you around so you now lay on your stomach. He pushes your head into the bed harder as he scoops a hand underneath your hips, lifting your bare ass into the air, exposing your drenched pussy to the cold air.

He lands a hard smack on your ass.

"If you hadn't been so stubborn, this could have happened much earlier" Aegon spoke in a hushed voice, hands trailing down your waist. You said nothing. Entirely too breathless to defend yourself. Aegon placed himself at your entrance and allowed you no time to adjust to the massive length of his before he slammed into you. It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you. You gasped as he picked up his pace, fucking you with wild and reckless abandon.

"Come on, my sweet," he taunted, "tell me how much you hate me now."

Aegon slammed into you so deep it really felt like he might kill you after all. You felt yourself pulse around his cock, your pussy trying to somehow pull him in deeper.

"So. Fucking. Tight," he said through gritted teeth. His hands gripping your hips with such force you knew they would bruise. Part of you beamed internally at the idea of being marked up by your bonded. Heat exploded inside of you. Your eyes were momentarily blinded as you felt yourself reach your climax.

"Please, fill me, Aegon," you begged, head still shoved into the bed. Aegon groaned at your words, holding your hips tightly as he pulled you back up against him to fuck him. He picked up his speed, thrusts becoming messy and sloppy as he chased his own peak.

He thrusted in roughly a few more times before he finally stilled, pushing inside of you as far as he could. He stayed inside of you for a few moments more before slowly pulling out, watching his cum spill out of your abused cunt. The loss of him being inside of you, causes you to whimper, feeling empty.

"That was truly a spectacular show," Visenya's voice sounded. Turning to your right, you beheld the sight of both the sisters standing there, a hint of amusement evident in their expressions. "I certainly hope you're not too tired for another round," Rhaenys quipped. The two women sauntered closer toward the bed where the two of you were situated. Crawling over the duvet toward you.

"Not that it truly matters if you are," Visenya smirked. Planting her mouth at your shoulder blade, she started sucking. Rhaenys copying her movement on your other one. You hummed in delight, completely unaware of the massacre that was befalling your people outside the tent, as your bonded made sure to keep your undivided attention on them.

They couldn't afford the possibility of your focus being split between them and the well-being of your people, especially when you were destined to belong to them. And with the bond now finally complete, you would never be able to leave. The strategy of isolating you without their presence played out flawlessly, leveraging the bond into compelling you to yield.

[natalievoncatte]

4. Garden

Kara waited as long as she could. Taking to the air, she lifted herself to cloud-height, ignoring the bite of the upper-atmospheric chill as the high winds snapped at her cape. Hovering in the air, she took a moment to unbind her senses, expanding her awareness to let in the cacophony of sounds she usually suppressed through years of focused willpower and concentration.

She rocked in the air, shocked by the sensitivity of her own ears. Jeremiah and then Eliza had taught her this, made the world in its vastness small enough that she could live in it.

Clark had taught her to reach out, to hear, as well as see and smell and taste and feel, beyond. Sol’s gentle kiss did more than expand her awareness and multiply her strength, it activated pathways in her brain itself, giving her a control over her senses that she could never match under a red star.

It took only moments to sift out the quiet sounds of Lena’s pulse and her gentle, hissing breaths as she fought back sobs.

Air folded around her as she shatters the sound barrier, flying high enough that the boom that followed her would be a mere puff to the ground. Another trick she picked up from Clark, using the earth’s rotation to speed her flight.

Kara touched down at a familiar but foreboding place: the Luthor estate.

All that had been the property of her family was hers now, a gift and a curse. Lena had talked about making it an orphanage or a long-term care hospital or a new children’s medical campus, but the building itself had held her back. What malevolent secrets had Lex left behind? Booby traps? Sentinel robots hiding in the walls? Caches of weapons or Lexosuits?

A Kryptonite bomb, to spit death at her for hate’s sake?

Kara hesitated, but Lena was here and upset. She went inside.

It was immediately obvious where Lex had reinforced walls and lined rooms with lead. Kara listened for Lena, finding that the trail of sound led her outside.

She had to use her x-ray vision.

Lena was kneeling in an hidden place, a walled off section of the formal gardens. Kara found the entrance cleverly disguised, a section of wall where one slipped through a gap and turned left then right and came out in a tiny, overgrown courtyard.

Kneeling, Lena was surrounded by pruning shears and garden implements, dressed to work outside. She looked so out of place it was almost a little silly to see, but there she was.

Kara could see that Lena had already been working on cleaning and clearing. She knelt before a small plumeria plant, resting in a well kept pot.

“Lex let it all die,” said Lena. “He knew it was here. He could have kept it for me, but he didn’t. I suppose I’m lucky that Lillian didn’t rip it up and install a septic tank.”

Kara walked over, standing next to her.

“My father built this. It’s a replica of my mother’s garden. We had a little walled garden next to the cottage where I lived with her before I came to live with the Luthors.”

Kara said nothing, instead brushing a lock of Lena’s now-curly hair back from her shoulder.

“He never showed it to me.”

“Why?”

“My parentage was his dirtiest secret. Lillian didn’t even tell me until she thought she could use it.”

“Do you think he loved her?”

“I have no idea. He loved me, I think. He loved Lex but in a different way. I don’t think he even liked Lillian.”

“You’ve never told me about him.”

“It wasn’t easy being his child. He drank too much, neglected the company, and drank more when things went badly for us. The family was actually in trouble until Lex turned it around. He started managing things when I was in grade school. By the end, he’d spend all day in his study and I’d spend half the night sitting with him while he talked and told me stories. Lillian hated him for it.”

“You miss him.”

“I miss them both. I miss Lex. I miss him so much. I mourn him every day.”

“I know,” said Kara.

“My mom died, my father died, my brother went insane.”

“Lena…”

“Is it me?”

“It’s not, you know it’s not.”

“Is it my witch blood? Am I cursed?”

Kara knelt beside her, pulling her cape across Lena’s shoulders to fight the autumn chill. Lena leaned into her.

“What if it is a curse? What if it gets our little one too?”

Kara put her hand on Lena’s belly, spreading her fingers. There was no bump yet. Kara listened intently, eagerly awaiting a moment she would never forget, when a second heartbeat joined Lena’s. It hadn’t come yet but it would.

“Nothing is going to get our baby,” said Kara. “Their moms are Supergirl and Lena Luthor. We can do anything.”

“It’s going to be a children’s hospital,” said Lena. “The house. A lot of the grounds are going to be torn out, but I’m keeping this garden. I’m going to give my mom a memorial. I think I might put one in for my dad, too.”

“I love you,” Kara murmured. “I love you so much.”

Lena leaned into her and Kara sat down to pull her in.

They sat for a long time, and listened to the wind that shook the leaves.

[irndad]

TULIP WITH THE GUY EVER

this is for peter!! im feral for this man my god this is long for nothing happening- guys i am SO fucking rusty prompt: an act of affection so blatant everyone notices roommate!peter &lt;;3 flower prompts

It’s hard not to look at her. 

There’s so much to observe, so much to place his attention on- how she smiles, the way she taps the sides of her mugs before she sips her tea. She’s a vision in red lipstick and he’s the kind of person that’s blessed to be in her presence. 

It’s a Friday night, and there’s a sweet sort way that she curls into herself. She’s been his friend for just about a minute longer than he’s been in love with her, and he’d like to think he does a decent job at hiding this fact.

He landed on his hip today, from a height far enough off the ground that it still hurts, pain radiating from every step as he walks home. The commute is actually quite far from his internship at the newspaper, but he likes the area he lives, and the woman whose company he keeps while he lives there. He makes concessions. 

Still, he’d been looking forward to the sight of her since the ache began. Her presence had a way of soothing. 

She’s curled up onto an inherited recliner in their shared apartment, and when he bursts their creaky door open in a fluid motion, he’s greeted with this sight. She’s not alone- some friends from her graduate program on their Ikea couch. 

It’s girls night, and it’s his dutiful role to say a quick quip and head back to his room. Her two best friends are over, legs splayed over each other in an open display of affection that he adores witnessing. He could hear the laughter and yelling from outside the apartment itself. He likes how they make her laugh, how they seem to make her heart lighter when he can tell she’s not able to carry the weight of everything by herself. 

“Peter!” She’s the first to even notice he’s around, and he tries not to let the stubborn firework in his chest keep exploding at the thought of it. At the thought, she sees me. Her voice is warm and kind and weightless, and he drinks in  the sight of her. Their floor lamp illuminates her in warm golden light, a coupe glass with red wine held in delicate fingers. 

“Hey, you,” he replies, an unmistakable warmth he can’t seem to rid himself of in his tone. He tries not to seem disappointed, like he’d not been imagining watching an irrelevant TV show, a little too close together until they’d fallen asleep just that way.

As he’s hanging his withered coat, he asks, “What are you guys up to tonight?”

Her friend explains that they are watching the Spy Kids trilogy in order, and she nods dutifully along. 

“That sounds wonderful,” he can’t help but laugh. “I’ll leave you guys be-“ 

And it’s no surprise, when they send a him a chorus of please join, and you’re welcome to be here! 

She stands up to give him a hug goodnight (because she wants to kill him), and he envelops her before he can stop himself. She smells like a mixture of lavender and rose and sweet red wine, and he’s grateful for his heightened senses for a moment; it doesn’t take long to memorize it all. 

It occurs to him that he won’t see her until morning, and he takes in the sight of her again, eyes raking over her. She really is beautiful- lovely in a way that radiates her smile, follows her in action. His hands rest on the curve of her waist, and something and things being made to fit one another cross his mind, against his better judgement. God, he could spend forever looking at her, longer touching her. 

He only pulls away when he hears a muffled pair of laughs, failed attempts at not interrupting a moment. Which is absurd, because there is no moment. None. 

She beams at him despite the laughter of those she holds dear, and it aches saying goodbye to her. She's just down the hall and it hurts to leave.

He slinks off to his bedroom smelling like her perfume, blushing bright red and maybe, just maybe, the tiniest bit hopeful. And he thinks he might of heard the faint whisper of two other people, whispering questions he mulls over every day.

"Just roommates, huh?"

[vonbabbitt]

Okay Von hi feel free to just ignore this if it's not a topic you want brought up and I'm not saying this was bad writing on your part since it was definitely unintentional but GOD DAMN it hurts that Watari died and was specifically burned during black history month. The cold motive being during December was a coincidence so this definitely is too but holy fuck it just hurts. A lot.

Praying it's a suicide honestly because one of these students I've grown to love burning a black woman alive on purpose during February (ik they don't know it's February but on principle it still hurts) would fuck me up so bad.

You're an awesome writer so don't take this the wrong way, it isn't a critique at all and definitely just seems like an awful coincidence to me but still. It's an awful coincidence.

(if it wasn't obvious btw I am black just so this doesn't read as some weird yt person lmao)

Thanks for making tetro anyway, hope you're in better health soon

hey anon, i wanted to address this because its a totally valid thing to bring up and your message was really really polite about it

it genuinely is just an awful coincidence unfortunately. when i first wrote all of tetro a few years ago i had zero idea of when it would be releasing or what the release schedule would look like, and things just happened to line up in a really unfortunate way.

obviously i cant speak on any matters of the case or the trial or the culprit right now, so i think a much better use of this platform and time would be to discuss ACTUAL issues of anti-black racism in japan with the focus people are now giving watari. hopefully thats a use of this platform that people will be able to take something away from

japan, historically, has had relatively limited interaction with african countries and people of african descent. the first time a black person was actually recorded historically in japan was a 16th century samurai named yasuke who was brought over by portuguese traders and eventually then served as a samurai under a 16th century daimyō named oda nobunaga. yasuke was very much a spectacle in 16th century japan, with records at the time saying that people in kyoto were fascinated by his height and dark skin. japan's interaction with black people remained extremely sparse throughout a lot of this time.

in the late 19th century, during japans early globalization, american minstrel shows (blackface performances) toured in japan, which introduced derogatory caricatures of black people to japanese audiences. it was a sort of imported imagery in that sense, carrying imported western racism with it into japan and laying foundations for japan's anti-black stereotyping in future japanese media.

during ww2, japan portrayed itself as a champion of non-white peoples against western imperialism and proposed a racial equality clause at the 1919 league of nations, which western powers rejected. while they were advertising this anti-racism approach, propaganda and attitudes within japan were actually a lot different. for example, after the war, many japanese people initially blamed black soldiers for the bombings, insisting that their skin had been "blackened" by the bomb. the american occupation of japan from 1945 to 1952 then brought a significant black presence to japan, with about 15000 black troops stationed in tokyo alone by 1946. these soldiers' interactions with japanese civilians (including romantic relationships) served as many japanese people's first prolonged contact with black people. the occupation era brought a new wave of mixed-race children that then went on to face strong social stigma in japan and the US alike, dredging up entrenched ideas about racial purity. generally, japan's historical context regarding black people is one of limited contact and imported stereotypes, setting the stage for modern perceptions.

in contemporary japan, which is still about 98% ethnically japanese, black people are an incredibly small minority, thought to make up only 0.02% of the population. because of this homogeneity, many attitudes towards black people are shaped by media images and lack of personal interaction. on one hand, theres still a curiosity and admiration for aspects of black culture in japan - mainly african-american pop culture, particularly hip-hop, sports and fashion. younger japanese people emulate black musicians and athletes, as well as certain subcultures (notably the late 1990s "B-style" trend) and at times even darken their skin to imitate black celebrities. on the other hand, deep-seated stereotypes persist. black people are often stereotyped as exceptionally athletic, musical or "cool", but also dangerous and foreign. as an example, black residents in japan will commonly report that strangers perceive them with a mix of fascination and fear. baye mcneil (who is a black author living in japan that i absolutely recommend reading the works of) notes that japanese reactions to blackness are frequently rooted in ignorance rather than malice. he notes that many japanese people fear blackness, and that their fear comes from a place of ignorance. this manifests in ways that may seem subtle at first glance - avoiding sitting next to a black passenger on the train or holding their belongings a little tighter in the presence of a black person. microaggressions against black people in japan are still extremely prevalent.

that same prejudice can also take the form of insensitive comments or questions, usually stemming from the assumption that all black people are from africa or america and fit certain tropes. for instance, a black friend of mine who visited japan recently noted that she was asked on more than one occasion if her skin colour would "rub off", reflecting a massively prevalent lack of exposure. japanese anti-black racism is strongly rooted in ignorance as opposed to the overt hatred displayed in western countries; physical attacks motivated by race are unusual. instead, social exclusion and othering are the more common issues. black people, like other visible minorities, often face the "perpetual foreigner" mindset japan still holds - no matter how long they've lived in japan or how well they speak japanese, they may be treated as outsiders. even japanese-born residents of mixed african descent can be viewed by some as not "fully japanese", as seen in public reactions to famous mixed-race individuals of such descent. to recap, modern attitudes are a complicated mix: a general polite public demeanour masking unspoken biases, a fascination with black culture coexisting with lingering stereotypes, and a lack of awareness that results in black residents frequently feeling hyper-visible yet entirely misunderstood and misinterpreted.

id also like to talk about the role of japanese media in anti-black racism in japan. japanese media and pop culture have a bit of a mixed record in their portrayal of black people. historically, representations were often steeped in caricature. in anime and manga, black or dark-skinned characters are often drawn with exaggerated features reminiscent of racist minstrel imagery, such as the very frequent use of exaggerated lips seen in many popular anime. two fairly infamous examples are mr. popo from the dragon ball series and jynx from pokemon. mr. popo is a genie-like character depicted with jet-black skin, large red lips and a turban, features clearly echoing the blackface iconography japan became familiar with in the 19th century. these designs sparked criticism internationally as well. western releases of these shows later altered the characters, such as mr. popo's skin being recoloured to bright blue in one edited instance, to downplay the resemblance to racist caricatures. the portrayal of black people in japanese media has thus been subject to intense criticism for insensitivity. many japanese viewers initially did not recognize these depictions as offensive, due to the different historical context, but awareness around anti-black racism has since been growing.

live-action media and advertising have also featured plenty of tone-deaf portrayals. blackface in comedy shows persisted in japan long after it had faded from other parts of the world. as recently as new years eve 2017, a popular comedian (masatoshi hamada) donned full blackface to impersonate eddie murphy on national TV, igniting outrage among international viewers and anti-racism activists. domestic reaction within japan was mixed, with some defending it as harmless cosplay and others (both japanese and otherwise) pointed out that, intentional or not, such images are hurtful and stem from ignorance. baye mcneil (shoutout again) led campaigns to educate the public on why blackface is offensive, especially with the 2020 tokyo olympics on the horizon and japan under greater global scrutiny. in 2020, japans public broadcaster NHK aired an animated segment about the black lives matter protests that depicted caricatured black figures (a muscular black man speaking broken japanese, with others shown looting) without any mention of police brutality - a portrayal widely condemned as racist. NHK retracted and apologized after facing backlack, showing that japanese media institutions are finally (but slowly) being called to account for promoting racist imagery and stereotyping.

there have been positive developments. the rise of internationally successful mixed-race japanese athletes and celebrities - such as tennis star naomi osaka, who is haitian-japanese, or signer crystal kay, who is korean-african-japanese - has prompted more nuanced conversations about identity. advertisers have featured more diversity in commercials, though not without missteps. as an example, one 2019 nissin noodles ad drew criticism for depicting a cartoonized naomi osaka with much lighter skin and eurocentric features. on variety TV, black personalities often appear, but sometimes in tokenized roles. notably, foreign talents like bob sapp and bobby ologun became famous in japan in the 2000s. while they gained popularity, they were somtimes boxes into caricatured personas (the "big scary black man" or the comic relief.) a quote from a japanese viewer at the time noted that "bobby ologon speaks weird japanese, bob sapp eats raw meat...it's like watching a circus show. people look down on them and it is obviously discrimination." this underscores how japanese media often plays up stereotypes (the non-fluent funny foreigner, the brute strength athlete, etc.) for laughs. however. more recent years have seen more candid discussions in media about racism. for example, japanese news programs covered the 2020 BLM marches in japan seriously, and films or other literature by afro-japanese creators, such as the memoirs of black residents, are slowly gaining more attention. overall, japanese pop culture is gradually, if slowly, moving from caricature to more authentic representation, pushed by both international pressure and a new generation that is more globally aware.

for black people living in or visiting japan, everyday life is generally safe but can be clouded by subtle discrimination and challenges. japan has no law explicitly prohibiting racial discrimination, so incidents of bias can go unchecked. a government survey in 2017 revealed that nearly one third of foreign residents had encountered derogatory remarks, and about 40% reported facing housing discrimination. black individuals often find themselves included in these statistics and often experience much greater suspicion than white foreigners. for instance, many black residents have stories of being repeatedly stopped by police for "random" ID checks or questioning, a practice linked to racial profiling. michael sharpe (a professor with the university of oxford) notes hearing of south asian and african immigrants being "stopped and harassed by police, denied housing, relegated to certain types of employment, and exploited" in japan. such profiling feeds a sense among black communities that they are being watched with particular scrutiny. a black american in tokyo reported that in his first week of living in a neighbourhood, he was stopped by police for riding a new bicycle, with the implication that a black person on a new bicycle may have stolen it.

housing and employment present other hurdles. its common for landlords and real estate agents in japan to flat-out reject foreign renters, with excuses such as language barriers or different lifestyles. black applicants, especially those from african or non-western countries, report this rejection at higher rates, sometimes hearing that neighbours or owners are "uncomfortable" renting to them. in the workplace, blatant racism is uncommon, but black professionals often face a ceiling or bias. many employers prefer hiring white westerners, perceiving them as more "suitable" english instructors or corporate representatives due to pervasive western-centric images, which can sideline black candidates. those who do work in japan might also endure ignorant comments from colleagues - for example, joking about skin colour or being compared to random black celebrities. a lack of diversity training means coworkers may not realize their "innocent" jokes are hurtful or disparaging.

social interactions can range from warmly welcoming to awkward. many japanese are genuinely curious and might ask personal questions with a racial charge behind them that the japanese fail to recognize. in more negative cases, black people may be avoided in public - a phenomenon illustrated by baye mcneil's anecdote of a man literally turning away and guarding his pockets when mcneil stood behind him in a train line. children often point or call out black people because they so rarely see black individuals, with such moments highlighting the feeling of otherness that black residents frequently experience. there have also been many incidents out outright rudeness: strangers touching black hair without permission, or making vulgar comments about the hygiene of black residents based on stereotyping.

its important to note that in the modern day, many black visitors travel in japan without incident, and many black expatriates build meaningful lives and friendships in japan. the discrimination tends to be subtle or indirect rather than open hostility. japans strong cultural emphasis on politeness often restrains open hate. however, this can be a double-edged sword. problems of racism may be denied or swept under the rug entirely. a common culture among the japanese is that "racism is an american problem, not a japanese one," which was a reaction seen when BLM rallies were held in tokyo. black residents in japan know differently - they live with daily reminders that their appearance sets them apart, for better or worse. in summary, daily life for black people in japan is usually from from violence or blatant abuse, but not free from the strain of being viewed as "alien" and having to navigate systemic biases in housing and policing that other groups might not face to the same degree.

several high-profile incidents in recent years have brought anti-black racism in japan into the spotlight and stirred public debate. one example is the case of ariana miyamoto in miss universe japan 2015. when miyamoto, born to a japanese mother and black father, won the miss universe japan title, it sparked nationwide conversation about what it means to be japanese. while many were proud of her win, a vocal sector on social media questioned whether a mixed-race contestant should represent japan. miyamoto, who was raised in japan, revealed she had faced bullying growing up - classmates threw trash at her and called her racial slurs due to her darker skin. the controversy around her victory - with comments such as "she doesnt look japanese" being prevalent - highlighted the exclusionary view some hold. her grace under fire and the support she received from others also became a teaching moment about multicultural japan.

another example is the case of tennis champion naomi osaka, who - as mentioned earlier - is hatian-japanese. while she is widely celebrated in japan, her rise came with many instances of racism. in 2019, japanese comedy duo a masso joked that osaka was "too sunburned" and that she "needed some bleach", implying her skin was too dark. they apologized after receiving harsh backlash. earlier that year, as mentioned earlier, nissin noodles released a cartoon ad where osaka's character was depicted with much lighter skin and hair than in reality. following criticism, nissin withdrew the ad and admitted they had not consulted osaka on her portrayal. osaka herself has handled these instances of racism with maturity, even joking in response to the bleach comment, and continues to proudly represent her mixed heritage.

anti-black racism in japan is a multifaceted issue, shaped by history, media representation, and japans self-image as a homogenous society. only in recent years has japanese society progressed towards a stance of anti-racism. i think whats genuinely fascinating about japans position is that we're seeing the disassembly of societal racism in real time in japan. massive civil rights strides that happened a hundred years ago in america are happening now in japan for the first time. we're seeing a new generation of japan that wants to directly oppose racism, and a generation of black japanese residents that are showing their strength and exceptionality. i really vividly remember the backlash against naomi osaka - and backlash on that massive of a scale can be terrifying. its inspiring on such a genuine level to see her demonstrating that level of strength and determination in the face of racism.

its genuinely unfortunate how the uploads happened to fall in regards to watari and black history month. however, if nothing else, im glad to have been given the opportunity to talk about black history in japan, and im glad to have been given the opportunity to witness the fight for the safety, acceptance, and love of black people in japan in real time. i know this was a bit of a long read but i had a lot i wanted to go over lmao.

as a final note, please dont be complacent. its really easy for people to reblog posts about black history and civil rights without really doing much of anything else. please always be the type of person who fights against anti-black racism. please use your voice correctly. you dont have to be anywhere near japan to have a say in how japanese racism is received by the greater world. the benefit of a global culture is that you can use your voice to affect things in other countries. when there are japanese comedians making horrible jokes about black people, and when there are japanese companies putting out ads that mock and erase black people, you have the ability to loudly raise your voice about it. so please always do so

idk how to end this but if you made it this far thank you for reading lmao. and thank you anon for giving me an opportunity to talk about this in more depth. i hope everyone has been able to have a reflective, meaningful, happy and genuinely loving black history month

[not-freyja]

New Zelda Game!

Okay cool, cool cool cool cool, I am calm, I am so fucking calm. Looks like Nintendo is staying true to their word that Wild is not getting another game, so now the questions are, what Link is this, where are we in the Timeline, and what information about the game itself can we pick out of these crumbs?

Whose Zelda is it anyway?

So two options:

New boy.

Legend. It’s fucking Legend again sucks to suck bro

Case for new Link and Zelda:

Less messy for the Lore

That’s it, that is the only argument

Case for Leggy boy and Fable:

LA animation style! While it can be fun to bring back older styles of animation for nostalgia/artistic reasons, that seems like a poor choice for *LOZ* games, which are always on the edge of what a game can do. Moving “backwards,” so to speak, in any aspect, would be a disservice to the franchise. However, doing it to maintain consistency for a particular character, and to use the animation style to make sure the audience knows this is the same character from LA is a very simple but effective tactic.

The map! So that shot was so BOTW and so fun, but the view we got wasn’t just recognizable as “Hyrule,” is was, down to the relative heights on the mountain cliffs against each other, the map from ALTTP/ALBW. Nintendo has never repeated a map without it being the same Link. So! Checkmate motherfuckers.

The character designs. That… that was just Legend and Fable, come on. Look at the dress. Every Zelda has a slightly different costume design, and that was hers. Look at Link. Baby boy!

I want this. Let me have it.

Timeline positioning

Okay so if we assume that this is in fact Legend, the next question becomes, “When is it?” Leggy boy currently has 5 games that are canonically his. (Triforce Heroes could be a random other Link, so while we like to say 6 we can’t *prove it.*) So. Let’s break it down.

ALTTP: canonically his first game, can’t be before this one.

Oracles: canonically happen after ALTTP, and he is very much still a child in here.

LA: the game this one is artistically modeled after. Narratively this fits nicely right after Oracles, and in the canon timeline, fits between Oracles and ALBW, so I think a whole new game being crowbarred prior to this one would be… not great for the narrative.

ALBW: This is trickier. No canon time between LA and ALBW is given, it could be a week, it could be years. It is entirely possible that Echoes of Wisdom occurs prior to ALBW, which would make it a direct sequel to LA, which makes the art style make even more sense. It could also be after?

…hang on a fucking minute, lets get the fucking map.

Left, ALTTP. Right, ALBW

Basically the same map! Duh, it’s the same Hyrule. But. BUT. Bottom right, in the lake. Do you see that?!

ALTTP: no log bridge. ALBW: Log bridge. Now, let’s look at the pretty picture from the EOW trailer.

NO FUCKING LOG BRIDGE!

This is before ALBW. Therefore, the game order for The Hero of Legend is

ALTTP, OOS, OOA, LA, EOW, ALBW, TH(maybe)

*cue manic laughter*

Lore Implications

Ganon.

There being a Ganon at all actually has me pointing my finger at the Oracle games and screaming. The TL;DR in those is that there was a plot to resurrect Ganon, each game Twinrova gets closer, but Link stops them. Now, there were also supposed to be three of those games, which means that it is entirely possible that the third unseen Oracle plot—please Nintendo let Link and Farore hang out, I am on my knees barking like a dog—could have resulted in his resurrection. This is the only explanation I have that doesn’t break the Lore or involve Time Shenanigans.

Also, Link does KO the bitch in that opening scene in the trailer. His presence is either just that—a set-up plot point—or him and Link are currently duking it out in the hole. Fun!

Link and Zelda

Now this game is going to put their relationship in the front in the “I have to save them because I love them” way that we usually see from Link’s POV.

Getting it from Zelda’s POV is going to be very interesting. We might be getting a look into her head, into her feelings and thoughts about the whole ordeal of the Legend itself. I hope so. But also, this isn’t just Link and Zelda, this is *Fable and Legend* specifically. The two that were meant to be be siblings but the dialogue that established them as such was cut from the final version of ALTTP. So. This game has the possibility to do three things

Canonize the Prince Legend thing, like they were going to do in the nineties.

Not address the topic at all, leave it nebulous.

Zelink.

None of these are bad choices, but option two is definitely the safest. Both options one and three will cause an uproar from part of the fan base. I can already see the ship wars. Please don’t do this people. Please.

The Holes 🕳️

What are they? Where did they come from? Ganon’s Trident Where do they go? No actually, where do they go? The Dark World (doesn’t make sense in the Lore)? Lorule (that would be a choice)? The Twilight Realm (I am convinced that Lorule and the Twilight Realm are the same place actually and you cannot change my mind)? Some new never seen before parallel dimension? A non-place, like a gap between realities (sexiest option)? I have no idea!

Fun!

That fucking “Fairy”

Tri? Don’t trust it. Will not trust it. Never trust that a companion in a LOZ game is what they first appear to be. Who does Nintendo take me for? A fucking amateur?!

Anyway, I am about 40% convinced that’s Link. I have evidence, but it is circumstantial.

I AM HANDLING THIS NORMALLY.

[nobody-nexus]

Dance Rush Body Types/Idol Heights!

Just to give people a sense of how they look for potential outfit changes! Some facts about each one:

Pomni- She's got hairy armpits and catlike feet. The feet are a reference to how in the very first concept, she was originally going to have a furry tail. I got rid of it due to the hoodie getting in the way

Ragatha- Yep, she's chubby in this! Most of her outfits have corsets built into them so the audience doesn't know this. But she's always glad when the outfits don't have this

Jax: The glow in the dark makeup that he has is actually attached to his body. It actively can't be removed. Also, he has yellow beans only on his feet- but hates showing them

Gangle: She literally cannot remove the cloak in any way. She can't be "naked" in any way, since her infinite ribbon body is attached to the cloak itself. But also technically she's always naked

Zooble: You might notice the different limbs. They're actually strictly forbidden to remove the usual pieces via their Agent, but when not working in any way, they change into something more comfortable

Kinger: I might get some questions about Kinger. "Why is he not in underwear like the others?" Simple. HE IS A CHESSPIECE. It's not that hard to imagine it. So fuck it, bathrobe

Caine: His body is glass like, see through and shiny, but also, he's buff with a speedo as a reference to a part of Chowder where the character Mung Daal is wearing a speedo. It's funny

So yeah hope you like more insight on the characters and the world that is this AU ^^

[yume-joshi]

Barbatos' H-Scene!!

for all my lazy ppl or y'all who aren't at chap 7 yet, here's all of barb's scene transcribed below the cut!! if you'd like any other whb scenes or anything transcribed, just send in an ask :33 maybe I'll do this with gamigin's, too, if ppl like this.. 0_o

NOTES: if there is any text which differs from the game, just ignore it!! OCR's do NOTT do well with the mass amount of whb punctuation..

WARNINGS: pure smut, breeding kink, public/ outdoor sex, spoilers for whb (nothing new!), long post

EXTRA: want the visual? scroll to the bottom! :3

Before you and the devils of Hades' had even left the castle,

You found yourself stepping into a place you never expected (?) to see.

A garden bathed in warm sunlight, filled with the sweet fragrance of flowers, vibrant with hues of blue, red, and green.

MC: (In this dreary... no, desolate Hades, there's actually a place like this...?)

Whenever you entered Hades, it always felt as if the sunlight was insufficient, as if it had been dimmed by the very nature of the realm. But now, you began to wonder if this garden alone was being specially favored by the sun.

It seemed like a plausible theory, especially since the garden's owner was an ardent worshipper of the sun.

Barbatos: You know, all illnesses can be healed beneath the sun, MC?

Despite having poisoned you with his own hands, Barbatos beamed brightly, asking the question with a smile that almost felt too carefree.

MC: ...I'm not a doctor, and I don't know the rules of this hell, so forget about all that. Just put me down first.

You spoke with a bit of a pout, still feeling the lingering annoyance as you looked at Barbatos. Right now, you were in his arms like a child.

More specifically, it felt like a scenario at an amusement park, where a child was being carried by their father—his hands supporting your waist and hips, while you had one arm draped around his shoulder.

If you were holding a balloon in your other hand, it would've been perfect, but you weren't father and child, and this certainly wasn't an amusement park.

MC: ...All the devils are staring at us. Hurry up and put me down already...

Barbatos: I can't do that! Just a second ago, you were about to fall flat on your face, right? If I didn't catch you, you'd have definitely ended up eating the dirt!

Besides, didn't you say you were low on demonic energy? If that's the case, I can't just leave you hanging like this.

MC: What does that have to do with you?

You kept up the cold tone, but to be honest, it was getting harder to maintain the attitude.

Just a moment ago, when you were on the verge of collapsing from dizziness and shortness of breath, Barbatos instantly stretched out his arm to catch you.

What was more surprising, though, was the expression on his face—one that was uncharacteristically filled with shock and anxiety, as if the world itself were about to crumble.

MC: (Why is he making that expression...?)

It wasn't just the expression; his arm, hand, chest, and shoulder—all of it felt so steady, so undeniably masculine, giving you a sense of security.

In order to keep yourself from falling, you had no choice but to wrap your arm around the back of his neck and shoulder, your fingers tangling gently in his sun-kissed golden hair.

Moreover, you weren't a child, so with the way you were positioned in his arms, his face inevitably brushed against your lower chest and upper stomach.

MC: (...This isn't helping me calm down...)

You couldn't conceal the growing shortness of your breath as you struggled to steady your spinning mind.

But your erratic, heated breathing escaped, falling onto Barbatos' head. As a result, you ended up looking like you were the one seducing him. Barbatos, still holding you, reached the center of the rose garden and satdown. He didn't seem to care at all that dirt or dew might stain his clothes. As you both dropped to the height of the low flower bushes, the sweet scentof the blossoms, which had already been filling your nose, became even more overwhelming. But strangely, it felt as though Barbatos' own scent was even more potent than the flowers.

MC: ...Barbatos?

You called his name in a daze, and he gave you a smile you'd never seen before— warm and full of depth— as he leaned in closer.

Barbatos: Yes, MC. I'm here. In this beautiful garden, it's just the two of us now.

Barbatos leaned closer, his nose brushing lightly against your skin as though tracing your scent. His sharp, smooth nose pressed against your hair as he inhaled deeply, then leisurely descended to your forehead, tickling the strands of your eyebrows before pausing softly on your eyelids.

MC: Ah.. Stop, it tickles..

Barbatos: Ah, MC. Right now, you radiate the scent of the blazing, glorious sun. The smell of simmering flames is pouring out from every inch of you.

His words, almost lyrical, blurred the line between reality and indulgence. But your body burned, filled with undeniable heat. And his gaze, like a wildfire, only grew hotter, devouring you with its intensity.

MC: I... still haven't forgiven you.

Barbatos: Is that so?

Barbatos chuckled quietly, as if savoring an inside joke only he understood. Without pausing, his nose brushed further down, skimming along your trembling eyelashes. Each faint graze sent your lashes quivering, and his deliberate exhale spilledwarmth across your skin. It wasn't your lips he sought but the space between your jawline and cheek, where his heated breath landed. The sensation was maddening, a mix of torment and temptation.

MC: You tried to kill me.. So why are you acting like this now?

Barbatos: Haha, MC. Didn't you already answer your own question?

MC: What..?

Barbatos: I tried to kill you, but I didn't. Why do you think that is?

MC: ......!

His voice was sweet like honey, yet the underlying meaning was chilling. He was right. Someone like him could have ended you in an instant. The moment the realization struck, Barbatos's large hand, still holding your waist, slipped under your clothes. His fingers pressed against the bare skin of your back, trailing languidly upward, his touch both soothing and searing.

MC: Hagh...! Wa-wait...! What are you doing...!

Barbatos: Doing as I please, you say? Hmm, perhaps... but can you blame me? It's practically begging me to come in, crying out so sweetly.

Following the hand that entered your clothes and rubbed your back, the hand that was supporting your butt also took off your lower body and rubbed your panties. In the quiet garden where you couldn't even hear the sound of a butterfly fluttering its wings. The lewd sound of the water you spilled touching his hand resonated.

MC: Ugh, ah... ahh... uh..!

Barbatos: Ahh, MC. You smell better and better. Hotter than the sun, sweeter than flowers.. Then what's flowing here must be honey?

He spoke in an ecstatic voice as he thrust his finger deeper into your wethole. As his large, thick finger slid in hotly, you couldn't ignore the pleasure that started there. You felt like your reason was going to fly away and curled your toes pitifully. Your chin lifted up without you knowing it, and your head fell back. Barbatos didn't miss the opportunity and buried his nose in your smooth neck.

MC: Ah, ugh, aghhh..! No, no..! I think I'm going to.. ah..!

Barbatos: As much as you want.

As Barbatos held your trembling body tighter and pistoned his fingers down faster, you quickly reached your climax along with the feeling of electricity flowing through your entire body.

MC: Ha, ahh, ugh.! Urgh, urgh.!

As Barbatos pulled his fingers out in one breath, the love juice poured out like urine, and it soaked not only Barbatos' hands and sleeves, but even the lively leaves.

Thump, thump, thump.!

Your hot and rapid breathing followed your heart that pounded loudly as if your entire body had become a heart.

MC: Hahh... haa... ha...

Barbatos: I should be grateful that you watered my garden.

Barbatos smiled happily as he looked at you, red-faced and limply hanging on his shoulder.

Your entire body was stil ticklish and hot, but you barely came to your senses after a single orgasm, and continued the conversation you had earlier without forgetting it.

MC: ...Should I thank you for sparing my life? But you only did that because you thought l was useful to Hades, didn't you?

Barbatos: Who made that judgment, I wonder?

MC: Leviathan, of course...

Barbatos: Ah, yes, his orders are the ultimate commandment for us devils of Hades. But to say his will is always completely aligned with ours? That would be a lie.

With measured movements, Barbatos gently lowered your limp body on to the soft bed of flowers and grass. The faint sound of crushed petals rustled beneath you, and as your gaze fixed upward, the sun's rightful place in the sky was replaced by Barbatos' dazzling face.

MC: (It shines just as brilliantly... maybe even more...)

The thought slipped into your mind, unbidden, though you hardly recognized it, lost in the after effects of the moment.

Barbatos moved swiftly, peeling off his shirt in one smooth motion while you struggled to catch your breath, your body still slightly arched.

In the sunlight, his form was like a divine sculpture— impossibly beautiful and unreal, as if he belonged in myth rather than reality.

Barbatos: To think you can throw such cold words while looking at me with those eyes, MC. You remind me a bit of our Majesty.

He lowered his chest, his bare skin gleaming under the sunlight, and placed a deliberate kiss on your collarbone. His voice held a mischievous, almost petulant tone.

MC: I remind you of Leviathan..? There's no way.. Ah, agh..

Barbatos: The truth is, you're so honest like this. You're always so pleased whenever I touch you, yet you keep trying to push me away.

As the large hand that had been rubbing your waist and back roughly moved upward, your top was lifted up to your chest in an instant.

At the same time, Barbatos buried his lips in your chest, and you let out a high-pitched moan that surprised even you.

Barbatos: It's wetter than before, MC.

Because you were so focused on your chest, he had already taken off all of your pants, including your underwear.

Barbatos: You're so wet, it's for me? Right?

While he was teasing you with his strong arms and hands, revealing his manly body, Barbatos buried his lips in your chest as if he was being playful and asked. The soft flesh of your chest was strongly sucked into his lips, and when you felt it being sucked in to the point where it was a little painful, his lips fell off with a peck. He persistently searched for the pleasant spots like the inside of your chest, upper stomach, sides, and collarbone, and repeated the same process several times. Every time, you would gasp and convulse because of Barbatos, who would only tease you here and there on your body without touching the most important places.

Barbatos: Ahh.. On you, the flowers I made bloomed. MC..

Barbatos, who briefly raised his body and looked at your disheveled appearance, expressed his admiration.

MC: (Now, I don't know, I can't stand it anymore, I want to do it right now, with Barbatos's..!)

You, who had been passively feeling Barbatos's touch the whole time, couldn't stand it anymore and spread your legs wide, causing Barbatos to furrow his brows in a surprisingly nice way.

MC: (This is ridiculous.. You look better when you frown than when you smile..)

As you felt your lower abdomen and the space between your legs, and lifted your waist as if urging, Barbatos's brow furrows deepened, and soon his face, which had come down as if to pounce, bit your nipple. The moment his teeth sunk in, you trembled like a smal animal pricked by asharp rose thorn. The hand that had been resting on his head with nowhere to go reached outurgently and grabbed the back of Barbatos' head. The inside of the thick, curly hair that was wrapped between his palm and fingers was wet from excitement and heat.

MC: You're.. wet too.. ugh.. pretending to be fine.. hagh...

Barbatos: Ah, if I were to confess to the goddess of orchid while I'm at it, I'm already soaked here too...

Barbatos arched his back and rubbed something hard underneath you. You could tell without even looking what it was, stiff and shaking fiercely. You, who was desperate, shook Barbatos' hair in your hand like a horse's reins and squeezed his shaft so that it could touch you closer.

Barbatos: Agh.. MC.. you feeling better?

MC: Ye, yeeahh-!

Barbatos: What? I wish you'd answer properly. Are you feeling better?

He was mischievous, and he kept touching your tip just enough to tickle you and then pulling you back, forcing you to answer. In the end, you answered while putting strength into your toes and lifting your back, waist, and butt, covering his mouth with your chest.

MC: I-I for, forgive you...!

As soon as he heard your answer, Barbatos's body started to make bigger movements.

Whoosh-!

His large, hard, and hot pillar precisely found your wet hole and pierced it.

MC: Ah, Aghhh...

His pillar, which had a flexible shape like a rose vine, was slightly bent at the end and pressed precisely on the most pleasant spot deep inside you.

MC: Barbatos, Ah, It feels so, Ah..!

Barbatos: MC, MC.. My sun.. My rose.. Hagh... Ha...

Every time Barbatos roughly moved his waist, a thick fragrance wafted from the grass and flower petals crushed beneath you.

He really seemed to be more energetic and stronger under the sun than anyone else, his strange and light appearance was nowhere to be found, and he was devouring you with a scary, sexy, and exquisite manly face.

In that moment, your vision, which had been shaking wildly with your head tilted back, suddenly turned to the surrounding scenery, not Barbatos.

A place without walls or ceilings. In other words, this was completely outdoors.

MC:..! Ba, Barbatos, wa, wait.. ugh...?!

You belatedly came to your senses and tried to calm Barbatos down, but Barbatos, whose excitement had already surpassed his reasoning, seemed not to hear you.He moved his waist so fast and rhythmically that you couldn't even continue speaking properly, and you could only make sounds in syllables to match it.

Barbatos: Huh? MC, what's going on? Why are you suddenly getting tighter? Ah, are you also excited by this sunlight!

MC: Ah, ugh, ugh, that, ugh, no, ugh, huh, ha, ugh..!

Barbatos: Sometimes warm, sometimes hot, sometimes dazzling.. All of those great things are now in you, MC...!

Barbatos: Let's reveal it all, MC. Let the sunlight seep into every nook and cranny of your body and let the warmth linger...!

You wanted to tell him that someone might come, and that you guys would be showing them everything, but Barbatos didn't seem to care at all. He sucked the tip of your breasts like he was sucking honey that would never come out, and he thrust inside you so much that you could hear a thud sound from below, which showed no sign of calming down.

MC: (It's dangerous, dangerous, dangerous, really, I'm gonna..)

You had already climaxed several times with just his hand, and you had also felt shallow orgasms several times with his clone who kept poking you in the most pleasant places.

No, you were stil feeling it. Just as the sun staring down at you from above never sets until night falls, his excitement didn't seem like it would subside.You wanted to shake your hips and cry in this pleasure forever, but you two had a lot to do.

MC: (Go back.. and the seed of the Tree of Knowledge.....ah, I don't know... I don't know!)

You released the strength from your hand that was holding his hair, and reached over his head to grab his horn.

Barbatos: Ughhh..!

Barbatos's firm body gained strength once more, and his thing moved inside you with a bang!

A low growl rumbled from Barbatos' throat as you stroked his horn up and down in a similar rhythm to the way he slurped beneath you.

Barbatos: MC... Ah... In here.. In herer, I want to plant a flower that smells like you and me...

Barbatos, who always had a expression that was almost annoying, and with a face that was completely relaxed from excitement, pleaded.

Barbatos: I'll give you a lot of my seed, MC, in here, inside you, my seed...

Your mouth was watering because of the voice that was dripping with sexiness.

When his movements, the wet sounds, the sound of flesh coliding, and the rough breathing of the two finally couldn't be more passionate.

MC: Haghhh-!

Your one hand that had been gnawing on the poor grass grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him, and soon Barbatos' bright red lips were swallowed by you.

Gulp, gulp, gulp..!

At the same time, your saliva that had been collected flowed into his throat, and white, thick liquid burst out from the pillars above and below his head.

Flinch, flinch, flinch..!

The two of you, without even separating your lips or lower body, still exerted all the strength and greedily shared and swallowed the liquids that each other had vomited out.

Finally, the bright red excitement that had risen to the tip of your head gradually cooled down and your waist, which had been raised high without any shame, slowly lowered to the ground.

MC: Haa... Haa... Haa...

Barbatos: Hagh... Hagh... Hagh...

Rough breathing mixed between your lips that had not been able to separate that far because you were regretful.

A languid feeling of exhaustion was felt throughout their entire body and they couldn't move a single finger.

Before you knew it, the sun had already set a little.

MC: (How long did we do it..)

Thanks to that, you felt great and your body had completely recovered, but you felt embarrassed belatedly.

At that time, just like when you had just come here, Barbatos lightly touched his sharp nose to your skin and moved as if smeling every part ofyour body.

You whined, feeling ticklish, as if you were about to get excited again. Then, Barbatos muttered with a strange expression.

Barbatos: The sun is stil high above, but it feels like the scent of the sun has faded from you, MC.

At Barbatos' unexpected comment, you couldn't help but laugh out loud.

MC: You dummy, after you've been sucking and nibbling on me like that, of course it's not the sun's scent anymore, it's yours.

Barbatos: ..! My scent..!

Barbatos' eyes widened in realization, as if he'd discovered something important and profound. Then, like a satisfied cat, he narrowed his eyes, his voice smooth and alluring, almost vibrating from his heels to his neck.

Barbatos: MC, you've become a part of my garden, haven't you?

He gently brushed your sweat-drenched hair aside and smiled.

Barbatos: I've made you bloom, MC. A flower that now carries my scent...

MC: ...You once called me the sun.

Barbatos: You can be both. You truly are incredible! My rose, my sun!

With a laugh, Barbatos returned to his usual self, puling you into his embrace as he chuckled.

The weight of his body covering yours like a blanket, combined with his intoxicating scent, made you slowly drift toward sleep.

MC: (I said I forgave him earlier, but... I'll make sure to ask him about this later...)

As that thought lingered, you fell asleep, and Barbatos slowly rose, listening to the gentle rhythm of your breathing. Your body, marked with red and bite marks, now looked like a garden in full bloom.

He kissed the edge of your knee lightly before his eyes wandered to the wetness beneath you, gazing at it with a mischievous look.

Barbatos: (...One day, truly... my seed...)

Of course, this thought was one you wouldn't learn of for a long time.

[END]

[enj4s]

─── ˚𝜗𝜚. ⋆ HOPELESS! ᡣ𐭩 .

─── ˚୨୧⋆ 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎; smut. swearing. sub! reiji sakamaki. humping. toxic relationship..ig. he's fucked in the head, like always.

─── ˚୨୧⋆ PAIRING; reiji sakamaki from diabolik lovers.

♡ Author note : js making stuff up for plot atp . . anyways enjoy x3

Reiji Sakamaki had always struggled with feeling ignored and neglected, especially in back with Beatrice. As an adult, the same feelings persisted, particularly when his own brothers and you disregarded his orders or failed to acknowledge his presence. When you came to live in the mansion under the guise of a “relationship”, your initial hesitation became glaringly obvious. You just followed along to save your soul.

Your last straw was when he poisoned you with none other than his infamous tea. He even claimed that it wasn't laced, and you felt dumb for falling for it twice. His explanation was feeble as if he wasn't even trying. Quickly and calmly shifting blame onto you for being too uncommunicative and refusing to open up to him, that he had to drug you to fish some information about you. It was a transparent attempt to cover up and guard his ego-driven actions. Your anger flew to new heights as you struggled to maintain composure in his presence.

Tables have turned now, and like once said, whatever comes around goes around, he was the one fuming now. He didn't think you'd be mad at him for so fucking long. It's been a whole month.

Your silence and negligence have reached new levels, and so did his sudden desperation. Despite your best efforts to avoid any interaction, Reiji persisted in his attempts to seek your attention. He would sit across from you during meals, his gaze fixed upon you, forcefully demanding eye contact, but all you offered were terse expressions and responses, your head bowed in a stubborn refusal to acknowledge his efforts.

Your hatred for him had grown so intense that you actually began to converse with the triplets mostly after that. The very people you had once found deeply unpleasant and unbearable at first when you came. They seemed almost vitalizing to what you went through with Reiji in comparison.

And ohh, did it affect him.

The last time that you put him in his place was.. sometime in the past two months, probably. He hated you. He hated that you brought up a side of him that terrified yet aroused him, never in his life did he see himself growing needy and miserable for someone, let alone a human being. He could still remember clearly when you first had him on his hands and knees. He practically could still taste the horror rolling off of himself in waves that day when he found out that the sensations you laid on him, pleasurable and not, aroused the shit out of him.

"Stupid, stupid mortal...Never in my immortal life.." Reiji cursed quietly under his breath, each step punctuating his frustration. The usual refinement and elegance he prided himself on seemed to evaporate as his irritation mounted.

A sense of neediness gnawed at the edges of his mind, fueling the flames of his anger. The weight of his discontentment weighed heavily on him, intensifying the gloom that shrouded his immortal existence.

Reiji's steps halted as he reached the chamber door. Confusion etched itself onto his features, but it quickly morphed into a mixture of irritation and frustration. He had expected to find you there, yet the room was now devoid of your presence.

His fists clenched involuntarily as he muttered under his breath, "Where could you be? Always evading me…"

He sighs and walks in anyway, flicking his glasses upwards and fixing them on the bridge of his nose. The sound of his footsteps reverberating in a rhythmic click against the wooden floor.

God..

Your scent was already lingering in the whole room, dominating the limited space. He didn't feel guilty about searching in your drawers or smelling your shirts. No, it was your fault, after all, for neglecting him. If you didn't, and forgave him before, he wouldn't have needed to do this.

It was never his fault.

Reiji's thighs cage the manchette of your chair, it was one of the spots that had your scent the most. They soon squeeze against the solid material, giving a slow, rut forward, a guttural grunt already escapes his throat, his fang pressed down as he bit his lip, holding back any (more) embarrassing sounds that might escape him.

He was so fucking wet already, leaking through his perfectly ironed pants. He ruts against the fabric, imagining it was your thigh instead, roughly fingering him from behind while your teeth graze against his chest and nipples and nip, taking out your frustrations from the day on him— whispering sweet nothings in his ear, that would be either followed by praise or degrading names, the thoughts send his knees weak, he wobbled, accidentally bumping on the sharp edge of the armrest, he stumbles slightly in surprise and euphoria, tearing a loud cry out of him, his hips tremble and he had to pause before his sounds echo through the whole mansion. It hit deliciously right. He holds on to the chair rails, not even bothering to conceal his pathetic whimpers and whines anymore as he ruts and humps furiously against it.

His legs spasm and a shocked, sharp gasp escapes him as he unexpectedly squirts. Reiji's body drops on the chair, and a long shiver runs through his whole body, he arched painfully forward and his gloved hand slaps against his mouth to hold back a wail at the not-foreseen intense sensations. His pink orbs roll back and fill with tears as his hips thrust forward, his orgasm hasn't subsided yet, he feels his pants wetten as his whole vibrates in bliss.

"..Reiji, why's there...white..stuff? On my chair?"

"..."

— don't repost or copy I know where u live 👁

dividers credits go to @anitalenia again x3 ~~♡

[wanderloveshater]

Two smart guys with 80’s tech can only do so much. It took them years to make the portal, one that breaks down everytime it activates.

For Commander Peepers? He can make a portal in a quarter of that time that’s stable.

It wouldn’t break down and would be able to control the excess energy that emits from it.

Peepers is the perfect pawn for Bill. Socially outcast with a crippling insecurity about his height, the desire to be praised and hold power over others, painfully lonely with a brilliant mind- he mirrors Ford in this way. I believe one of the WOY crew members emphasized him being different from the watchdogs.

It’s so easy for Bill; what do we have here? A smart guy who builds evil planet-destroying devices? Handling complex machinery?

He’s got a high IQ- misguided by his adoration for his stupid leader. The need for approval is crippling. So what can we do? Our little song and dance-

Bill’s experience speaks for itself. It would take very little effort, no questioning or anything- kind of boring, really.

Oh and Peepers has just been WAITING for someone to realize his true potential!

It’s all the same with Ford. He wants to feel special. The way Peepers would cling, claw, ride the high of the teensy bit of praise Hater gave him months ago…it makes Bill laugh. Such a sucker. A mathematically talented genius with more weaknesses than anyone can count.

So here we are, Peepers wants power. He wants respect. He wants to be seen. Bill promises Peepers a sense of social validation- to be adored- and eventually feared by his peers, and in extension, the galaxy. In return, Bill wants a portal- instead of spinning it as a “gateway for infinite knowledge of the universe” he can actually be a little more truthful. He’ll tell Peepers it can be used as an unstoppable weapon of destruction, better than what Major Threat had, better than what Lord Dominator had. The Peepers empire- I mean- The Hater empire would conquer the galaxy. Bill can come into this plane and they’ll rule everyone, side by side, Muse by Painter.

It’s a win win! Come on Peepers! Take the deal! When was the last time you played chess with someone that was actually smart enough to compete against you?

Infatuation: We saw how easy it was for Ford to be a Cipherholic. For many others to be. Peepers would unfortunately fall for his flattery. Under the assumption that Peepers is in love with Hater- (idolization if you wish) this prevents him from fully going evil, betraying everyone at once, I think.

But Peepers does get a little tired here and there putting up with Hater’s stupidity. Everyone’s stupidity, actually.

But Bill?

Bill has a lot of knowledge of the universe and intelligence.

Peepers would feel so intellectually stimulated by their conversations- likely about quantum theories, astrophysics, how stupid everyone is. There’s one thing Peepers has going on instead of Ford. Ford isn’t directly malicious or evil (besides the revenge fantasies), but Peepers is. He’d find Bill’s sadistic humor to be funnier than Ford ever did. Bill likes that.

Planting these seeds in Peeper’s brain- like the portal- Peepers would reach worship levels faster than Ford.

“I want to feel tall.”

“I’ll make you feel tall.”

Possession: This one is funny to think about, Bill’s unhinged behavior is exponential. He uses his charisma to gain social approval with the watchdogs and Hater’s favor in Peepers’ body. He probably wouldn’t have to complete all the calculations that Ford needed help with- really the possession is just so Peepers is more likable.

Bill’s feelings: Peepers was the easiest pawn to entrance. Bill finds this rather boring. There’s nothing to sink his teeth into- nothing to tear. Just a hollow puppet. He isn’t weird enough for Bill to enjoy, he seems rather logical and put together. Sure he’s shorter than everyone but was he born with any extra features that makes him an anomaly? But he’s certainly the most efficient puppet, so he’s gotta keep that going.

Peepers would also catch Fiddleford and Ford’s mistakes with the portal’s code.

Sort of like, “Oh haha, whoever did this code is so stupid, have they considered their calculations would blow up the entire room?!”

Bill being Bill, filled with bitterness, would agree in tandem at first. “Haha YEAH my last guy wasn’t up to par!”

Before uh, Peepers gets carried away and Bill’s own complicated feelings about Ford arise.

“Seriously, have you seen this derivative answer?! A traffic cone could have done better-”

“That’s enough”

Ford: I don’t have a set story/timeline for these two in mind, but I would like to imagine Ford’s reaction. Being unable to stop the vicious cycle repeat chokes him. Warning Peepers and all, oh don’t fall for it, he’ll betray you, promise you a galaxy, yadda yadda…

But Peepers only hears that last part.

“My own galaxy…?”

“Yes, he’ll make you ‘one of them’ and promise ultimate power with no law or restrictions- everything you could dream of- but DO NOT fall for it!”

Peepers falls for it. Or rather embarasses himself- Bill does not care for Peepers in this way. He’d never offer this unless it was for gain, so what does Peepers do? Throw himself to Bill and the Henchmaniacs- pleading to be a part of them. All that results from that is being laughed out of the room. Doesn’t help that he's the shortest.

Peepers doesn’t fit in with the watchdogs, or even the crazy weirdos/freaks.

He is truly alone.