#occasionally higher values

[certified-cumlord]

YEYEYEYYEYEYEYYEYEYEYEYEYEYYEYEYEYEYYEYEYEYEYYEYEYEYEYEYEYYEYEYEYEYEYYEYEYEYEYEYEYEYYEYEYEYEYEYEYEYEYYEYEYEYEYYEYEYEYEYYEYEYEYYEYEYEYEYEYEYYEYEYEYEYYEYEYEYEYEYYEYEYEYEYYEYEYEYEYYEYEYEYEYYEYEYEYEYEYYEYEYEYYE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE GAMBLING!!!!!!!!!!!

I CAN'T STOP WINNING!!!!!!!!!!!

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

What Attracts Them [1]

Alastor

Vulnerability. If there is any weakness or fault in your self-concept, Alastor will pick up on it and try to exploit it to garner a connection with you. He’s not particularly fond of approaching someone without an ulterior motive in mind or solely because he finds you mildly interesting -among other sinners, that is. He needs leverage and uses whatever he can pry or observe about you to his advantage. Need protection? He’ll offer to guard you. Need financial support. He’ll hand over any amount you desire. As long as you either sell your soul or initiate loyalty to him, Alastor will proudly proclaim you his (property).

Alastor is wildly addicted to dual-sided sinners. The pure joy he gets from seeing you go from being sweet, shy, and agreeable to bloodthirsty, witty, and downright stubborn gets him going. You don’t often get that way unless it’s to put someone in their place or to show how protective you are of him -even if he’s far more powerful than you in every way. Still, when you do, his grin stretches wider than usual, and he’ll constantly try to encourage your violent behavior out into the open after the fact.

He’s got a massive thing for motherly types. Partly because he is a momma’s boy but mostly because he is very prone to being taken care of, as much as he’ll deny needing anyone’s help. What overlord would willingly say they like having their ears petted, antlers touched, or hair messed with by the one they love? None. And he won't be the first. You can always do the simplest things too: helping Charlie around the hotel, giving angel advice (even if he doesn’t use it), or running around with Nifty trying to help her catch bugs strikes a nerve in the stag he can't ignore. Seeing you tend to others makes him incredibly hot-blooded. It gives him more motive and excuses to breed you later on.

Dancing. He loves to trot around his room late at night with you. Soft jazz or swing music playing from him keeps a smile on your face as he leads you through various steps, effortlessly twirling you around the room and addicted to hearing you giggle softly anytime he sweeps you off your feet. He was a phenomenal dancer while alive, and that fact hasn’t changed in death. You will either have to learn from him or already be light on your feet when Alastor decides to ask you for a dance.

Alastor doesn’t mind having a chaotic partner but values a higher level of ‘obedience’ from them. If you aren’t the type to make a deal with the stag and he can’t convince you to do so, he’ll settle for an almost toxic form of companionship. What he says goes, and if you put up a fight, he’s not above reinforcing his command. Physically or emotionally. No one has ever called the Radio Demon fair, and they’ll never have a chance to. He does enjoy your stubborn fits occasionally, though….they make it so much more fun for him when he has to break you into submission again.

Overprotectiveness. He’s got a bad habit of practically stalking you whenever you’re away from him, but you have quite a temper when he’s put in a vulnerable position. This doesn’t happen often, though. For instance, his brawl with Adam enraged you to want to skin the angel alive. Luckily, Nifty and Lucifer got to know him before you did. Alastor adores it when you hiss at sinners who stare at him a little too long and can’t help but smile wider when you flash him an innocent look right after. You’re smaller and much more prone to be hurt, but you’ll still claw someone’s eyes out for him…yeah he’s never going to let you go.

Alastor isn’t very touchy but delights in invading others' personal space, so having an overly clingy partner would annoy him. You learn he appreciates acts of service more than anything else and is pleased to see what you do for him—keeping his room and Radio Tower tidy even if they’re usually clean and straightening out his bow tie if it’s crooked, bringing him raw meat after a long day of running errands, or even slipping into his room at night to sleep even if he’s wide awake himself just because you ‘miss him.’ It's all so trivial, small things you get used to doing, but meaningful to him nonetheless. He returns the favor in the best ways he can think of. Praise, gifts, making you cum until you can't think straight… You're such a sweetheart, and he can't help showing you bits of gratitude.

Lucifer

A sucker for the cliche type of love. Running into you while on a stroll, seeing how clumsy you can be right off the bat, and feeling obligated to help poor little you make Lucifer giddy. You don’t mainly get why he’s so infatuated with you at first sight, but having the attention of Hell's King is flattering. Your friendliness is what pulls the devil in like a magnet at first. He wonders how you ended up in Hell even though you’re lovely and genuine. He finds kinship with those out of place because he fell from heaven for the same reason. In his opinion, you stand out amongst other sinners by being less of one.

Confidence. Whatever vanity you have, Lucifer drowns in it. Your looks, talents, and impression on others…if it’s all done with a sense of pride, he can’t get enough of it. His drug is seeing the smug look on your face when you make him beg for attention. When you want something from him and know you’ll get it if you ask, that glint in your eye sends the devil spiraling to his knees. You don’t have to be obnoxious about it either; quiet as a mouse hanging onto his arm as he walks about, he’ll, with a slight smirk of delight on your face when people stare at you, stroke his ego more than anything else could. You’re his prize, and he’s glad you’re proud.

Curiosity. You are asking him questions, getting him to talk, or even rambling about what’s on your mind, which comforts Lucifer. It reminds him of his time in heaven, being able to express his thoughts to those who’d listen, and you tend to do the same, which excites the fallen angel. He enjoys explaining things to you, deconstructing complex concepts to see your bright eyes light up with wonder, and the oh-so-sweet smile you give him during long, in-depth conversations eases his heart. The pure excitement on your face when he shows or explains something new to you is contagious. You’re too cut to be left clueless.

Touchiness. Lucifer is very prone to clingy behavior and sees nothing wrong with that. He likes your attention on him. Physical touch is his favored love language, and sharing it with you comes naturally. You often sit in his lap, play with his hair, pet his wings, and cuddle. He can’t get enough of it. He shudders when you’re all over him, pining for a kiss he can’t resist giving to you and whining for another right after he gives in. His hands never wholly leave you, and yours always find a way to bring him in close again.

Creativity. He’s drawn in by those who have an eye for the arts. It doesn’t matter what your interest maybe if it’s a form of expression for you; Lucifer tends to admire it. He’ll go as far as researching facts about the subject/hobbies to impress you with his knowledge and actively participate in the activity. You don’t mind him joining in, happily spending time with him more often, and appreciative that he puts so much effort into learning about something you love to do.

Reliance. Not in the sense that you’re utterly helpless without him but more so that he likes to be needed even for the most minor things. Being unable to help or fulfill another’s wishes irks Lucifer. He embodies pride, and feeling useless damages him a lot more than other things. He’s very attentive and soft-spoken even when agitated with you, and he genuinely does his best to do anything you ask of him. Once you become his, the world (alive or dead) is yours for the taking. He hates it when you brush him off to do something on your own, so you’re bound to let him tag along with whatever you do to keep him busy. He doesn't intrude if it's too severe of a boundary for you, but he can't help but want to take care of you with the utmost diligence.

Brattiness/Sassiness. Lucifer can't understand why he's attracted to a sharp tongue and an even colder attitude (which only occurs when you're upset with him), but he loves every second of it. Sometimes hell does or says things on purpose to piss you off and get your focus back on him. Other times, if you're already in a sour mood, he’ll suggest you take that anger out on him. He's noticed a pattern of you using stress as an excuse for him to fuck your brains out, and he's not mad about it. If making you break down into tears underneath, thanking him for fucking the bitchiness right of you after the edge of another high slowly wears off helps you in any way….Lucifer won't hesitate to participate. He wants to see you happy, but he loves the minor spats of aggression you have, like every other sinner in his domain. Though, you don't get very cutthroat as much as the majority does.

New filler posts because sometimes I have random ideas and need a break from writing a series. ❤️

[hachiane]

ranking the LADS boys on who takes the best Instagram photos for you

a/n — just my headcanons!! may be OOC, majorly she/her reader pronouns

count : 950 words

#1 Rafayel Qi

— takes one look at your inspo photos and scoffs, “puh-leaase, i can do better than that.”. under his calm exterior, his painter's eye is roaring to life, the gears in his brain immediately turning when your phone is passed into his hands.

Rafayel matches your freak instantly and pretends he is like every photograph boyfriend every it-girl online seems to have; he's guiding you to pose, where to place your hands, tilt your face so he captures all your best angles, even the ones you didn't think you had. your personal hypeman as he snaps away, "yesss, cutie! you look so good!' "kill me with those sexy eyes of yours!" "makeup on point! show off your pretty lashes!"

it doesn't end there. Rafayel is also looking over your shoulder helping you choose the best shots, giving his small comments and suggestions as you edit them in your phone, things like "up the contrast, the shadows are dark in this one" or "why are you cropping like that? this makes you look taller".

after your impromptu photoshoot, he sings praises about you being the most beautiful muse, the cutest bodyguard. and of course, you have to take some couple selfies with him too as reward for his hard work.

Rafayel is your first like, first comment when you post, bombarding your notifications with comments. “that’s my bodyguard right there 😍” “you’re sooooooo hot 🔥🔥” “slay queen 💅🏼✨”

he'll do everything again, no doubt about it.

#2 Xavier Shen

— when you asked him the first time, he was hesitant. he says he read a book about it but never put it to practice, warning you that you might be disappointed. you shove your phone into his hands and that you're fine with whatever he gets in the end. (unintentionally that awakens his inner prince, determined to ensure his princess look her best in every frame)

the entire time, Xavier says nothing. you hear him snap away and hum to himself, but he's not saying anything to you; doesn't tell you how to pose, where to place your hands or if you should be looking at him. so most of the time, you’re by yourself testing out the poses you saw online and placing your blind, full-hearted trust that he gets the picture you imagined. 

the thing is, while poses look good on you, Xavier behind the camera much prefers your candid moments, because these says much more about you than poses other people have thought of. you in your natural state is the most beautiful to him, and he says so, “i only take pictures of pretty things and you like this is the most pretty to me”.

later, being the old soul he is, he purchases a polaroid printer to get physical copies of your photos and stashes them away in a journal or box, for these memories of you deserve to last lifetimes.

#3 Sylus Qin

— his pictures of you are decent enough. when you asked him the first time, he says he’ll get you a personal photographer if you so desire good photos, but your cutesy pleading and debating your point about the sentimental value of photos taken by him makes him give in. he follows your inspo photos to the T, but because of his height, you notice the angles are slightly higher than what they should be. like Xavier, he doesn't tell you how to pose; he just taps away on the shutter button as he moves around you here and there, occasionally hunching down for a low angle shot, with his other hand in his pocket, nonchalant as Sylus usually is.

accidentally left the live photo feature on for most of your photos, and while perturbed at first, those become his favourites; he gets to see a glimpse of your genuine smile at his ministrations before your expressions snap into a smouldering, radiant look that he would fall to his knees for time and time again. he sends the photos to himself afterwards without asking, shrugging when you question him about it when he was being so indifferent at first, “sentimental value, kitten”.

#4 Zayne Li

— unfortunately, Zayne takes photos like an aged father with two daughters; straight on, no angles, no direction, not much effort given the first few times. but after seeing your slightly disappointed look as you review the photos, even when you reassure him you're okay with them, he knows he’d done you wrong.

the next day, Zayne promptly asks his female colleagues and acquaintances with a photography hobby at the hospital for some tips and crash courses. of course they oblige him (because who could say no to the Dr Zayne when he asks for a favour?) with simple go-tos and the tricks. and Zayne being Zayne, he notes them all down in his personal notebook, studies it in his downtime, brings it home to read and practice on some "subjects" lying around the house: your collectible figures, the fresh bouquet for the living room, and so forth.

the next time the opportunity comes up, he breaks it to you he's been studying for this exact moment and asks if you would give him another attempt. although the photos end up not what you expected when he said he's been "learning", it's miles better than the first few times. Zayne would look at you expectantly for your reaction, and he heaves a sigh of assured relief when you compliment his improvement. when you post the recent photo he took of you, he cracks the widest smile he's had all week, liking and saving the photo to make it his phone background (though you've probably already sent it to him).

[mindfulstudyquest]

here's the reason you procrastinate

based on Fuschia Sirois' research

everyone procrastinate at some point. research suggests that almost 1 in 4 people procrastinate on a fairly regular basis, and the rates are even higher among college and university students ( 50% of them procrastinate regularly and about 85-90% do so occasionally ).

because procrastination is so common we tend not to put too much thought into it, in the end what is the problem? it's just delay.

well, it's not. actually procrastination is harmful delay ( so defined by the researchers ); it is a form of delay which is:

voluntary

unnecessary

involves important tasks which you intended to do

people often underestimate the consequences of procrastination and how debilitating and harmful it can be. if you delay dealing with ( for example ) your academic works, of course you can expect some negative results in that area, but what about the collateral consequences of it?

research has shown that people who have problems with procrastination have low physical and mental health and practice less healthy behaviors. they deal with depression, stress and anxiety.

just think about the enormous amount of stress that procrastination brings: first of all, constantly chasing deadlines. deadlines can nag anyone, even those who don't struggle with delaying, but then it ends, the job is turned in, and everything goes back to normal. for procastinators this is not the case, they will keep putting off important things and will constantly end up with an imminent deadline.

so, if it's so harmful for your health, why do people do it? some people think it's about laziness or poor time managment, but actually:

laziness isn't procrastination. if you're lazy you don't have the energy to do anything, instead procrastinators are always busy with a thousand non-essential tasks to do, in fact they avoid doing one specific task, not every task ( for example if i need to study, but i'm procrastinating it, i end up cleaning my room )

poor time managment it's actually a symptom of procrastination, not a cause.

from a psychological perspective the origins of procrastination are rooted in negative emotions and the urge to cope with them through avoidance. so actually procrastination is about poor mood managment, not poor time managment.

procrastination starts when we have a task that's unpleasant, but we have to do it. and we use procrastination then as a way to get relief from those negative emotions associated with the task, so basically it's not even about avoiding the task, but it's about avoid the negative emotions that we associate with the task.

we need to avoid stress and aversive feeling that come with the task, especially when we don't feel like we can manage those negative emotions at the moment. so we take the task, we put it aside, and it's instant relief. it's fast, it's easy and it works for a little while, then that sense of shame, guilt and self-blame starts to kick in.

so why do we keep procrastinating? for that sense of relief, because that made us feel rewarded and we tend to repeat behaviors that rewarded us. this can easily lead to a cycle of procrastination.

however, the negative thoughts that we have ( "why didn't i start earlier?", "i'm letting myself down" etc. ) don't actually make us take action. they just add layers of layers on pre-existing negativity.

so how do you get out of the procastination cycle?

go back to valuing your task, if it's so important that you do it, remind yourself why you are doing it

remember that we tend to overestimate the discomfort that a given challenge will bring us. probably your task isn't even that time-consuming, unpleasant and frustrating

be compassionate and and forgive yourself, it's an effective strategy to reduce the negative emotions associated with the task. you are not the first nor the last person to procrastinate, we are all human and we all make mistakes. research has shown that doing so reduces the risk of procastination.

hope you enjoyed this little explanation, here's my sources: https://youtu.be/xTEPNxx0MsA

[strawberrystepmom]

i'd crawl home to her

pairing: hades!geto suguru x persephone f!reader

word count: 10.8k

about: the god of the underworld brings his most valued prize home at the risk of tearing the realm itself apart.

contents: cw dark content - kidnapping, possessive leaning on yandere behavior, stockholm syndrome to a degree, lore accordant misogyny (ugh i know). this is a retelling of the hades and persephone myth, it is not exact to the prior iterations - creative liberties, etc. reader is quite naive but has her own personality and genuinely cares for suguru. piv sex, reader is referred to with feminine pet names, virginity loss. zeus gojo, hecate shoko. weird happy ending bc ofc this is something EYE wrote.

notes: i was personally asked to repost this and figured finishing the story and posting it full length would be the best way. this is the full and final version of what was formerly known as crawling. thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy it.

floral divider is thanks to @/saradika

Earth’s sun rises with you, Suguru concludes on his fourteenth morning outside his bleak domicile.

Perched high above the meadow you tend every morning, the sun rising higher in the sky with every step you take across soft green grass, he watches. The backlight drenches you until you’re a mere silhouette, hard even for his superhuman vision to make out. 

He doesn’t need the sunlight to do anything but glow across every curve and dip of you - his mind can easily paint the rest of the picture.

You live behind his eyes every time he closes them.

He luxuriates in the feeling of shutting them to imagine you while he’s in this form, something inhuman that may belong among your trees and your blossoms. Something unlike who he really is. 

Opening his eyes as he hears branches creak beneath where he rests, he readies himself to swoop into the landing you are approaching. 

Sighing with each step, the gentle sweep of the hem of your dress across your feet tethers you back to your reality. The grass tickles the bottoms of your bare feet and you squint as you peer into the distance ahead, unable to make out more than vague shapes of flora. 

A golden cage with crawling vines along the bars is still a cage, one to which your mother holds the only key. You are reminded of this impenetrable truth with every muffled step that grows quicker as you notice something in your clearing. 

A bird, larger than any you’ve ever seen, rests atop the grass with its wing twisted at an unnatural angle. The sight makes you gasp and you begin to sprint, filled with concern. The dryads haven’t yet arrived to tend the meadow with you - you’re alone. 

You’re unprotected. 

You’re his.

A pathetic caw leaves the large bird’s beak as you approach. The sound is strangled and makes your heart squeeze, mind immediately reeling imagining the suffering this animal must be going through. 

Despite being kept under lock and key, this meadow is your domain and nothing will hurt as long as you are here. You vowed long ago to make this so. 

You sink to your knees beside the bird. Suguru sees the tips of your fingers before he sees anything else, the beady eyes of the body he’s inhabiting keeping him from taking in too much of you at once. 

“You poor thing,” you speak without a trace of irony or false sympathy. Your voice is more beautiful than any melody he has overheard the dryads cast into the sky and relief washes over him as the sound. “What’s happened to you?”

He caws again, the sound stronger this time and you smile. Perhaps he’s feeling better, you ponder as his shift away from you and shut. His soul shutters with anticipation as you lean over him. 

This bird is unlike any wildlife you’ve ever tended to in your lands, large and inky in color. You are more accustomed to robins or the occasional duck, things as gentle as the life you lead. Ducks don’t even have claws, Suguru thinks as you stroke a pattern across his beak with your index finger, suddenly too aware of his own talons in this form. 

Those same talons twitch and you frown, moving from his beak to gently petting his head. 

“Are you in any pain?”

The concern you hold for Suguru makes him feel a bit hazy, your mind too precious and concerned with helping him to notice the rapidly browning grass surrounding the two of you. 

He eventually kills everything he touches, smothering the light out of every last brightened corner in his life. It makes him feel guilty knowing you’ll just be one more light to extinguish but he can’t allow this to continue.

This want he has for you - the need growing into a pit as endless as the one he alone casts souls into. 

You are his. 

A soft gasp leaves you as the once injured wing of the bird you sit next to appears to be healed untouched. No longer bent and dangling, the strength returning as the bird lifts his head. Fear paralyzes you when you recognize something distinctly human in the darkened eyes that glance up in your direction. 

This is no bird of your lands.

Adrenaline rushes but you stay, watching the bird twitch as he begins to transform into something inexplicable before your eyes. Feathers give way to hair, a beak to a face. You draw your fingers back as wings become hands but they’re captured quickly between cool fingers much larger than yours. 

Fear blankets your mind and you gape at Suguru as he transforms into a man - nude, bare to the sunlight. You can make out every defined plane muscle and scar, the sight as terrifying as it is alluring. You know all too well who has trapped you between his talons. 

“Why are you here?”

Despite the terror in your widened eyes, desire flickers within them. Suguru notices you do not flinch or stray as he reaches out and caresses your jaw with his fingertips in the same pattern you were gently etching across his beak. 

“For you.”

Almost as if you are no longer in control of your own body, you melt into his touch and your eyes grow heavy. His large palm cups your cheek and he gently pinches the soft round between his index finger and thumb.

He wishes you’d come willingly but he can’t be certain and will not leave room for error. 

Your eyes flutter shut gently, your body slackening as the magic he used to coerce you to sleep takes hold. Bundling you against his bare chest, a victorious smile crosses his handsome features.

You are his, wrapped in his embrace, and he holds you as delicately as a fragile newborn as the ground shakes beneath the two of you.

“Let’s return home,” he mutters down at you knowing there will be no response. Your breathing is steady, little puffs of air leaving your barely open lips. He presses his palm against your cheek, your throat, your chest. 

He resists the urge to map you out knowing he’ll have plenty of time to do so as soon as the two of you have settled in the underworld. 

The God above answered when your mother cried out to the heavens and Earth herself the first evening you did not return to your mother. 

Your routine has been the same for many of your living years - trudging back to your family estate with muddy feet and eyes you have to force open to stay awake through the evening meal you used to share with her. Days spent beneath the sun turning to evenings withering beneath another light altogether.

Satoru set his cerulean gaze on the lands below, the verdant rolling hills of Demeter's domain, and he knew without a second thought the encroacher who had been there. Brown grass in the shape of footprints led straight to your clearing - where he knew Suguru trapped you.

His need had become insatiable, a fear they’d all kept to themselves for far too long.

Lounging across an ornate chaise in the social room of Demeter’s estate, Satoru eyes her home carefully. Everything here is so polished, so prim. It’s a wonder she has ever let you get your hands dirty at all, her little blossom ripe to be plucked straight from her stem. 

“Go to him,” Demeter begs the god with teary eyes, his snowy hair framing his unnervingly handsome face. “Please make him return her to me.”

Satoru chuckles and lifts a chalice to his lips, the two legged land nymphs and servants that also serve the woman across from him tittering anxiously. They’re lucky to be witnessing the handsome god in front of them, they’ve all remarked several times over. He sips and lets the taste of the richest wine this world has to offer drench his taste buds before smacking his lips appreciatively. 

A lazy grin crosses his features which infuriates your mother. 

“You know I can’t do that, Demeter,” he holds the chalice out to the waiting hands of a servant who graciously accepts with a measured smile. “I’m as unwelcome in his domain as he is in mine.”

Suguru simultaneously watches the conversation through a looking glass hanging on the wall of his quarters and you as you sleep, an enchanted rest he created with a spell he has not yet decided when to break. 

This transition will be easier for you if you rest, he decided when he concocted the plan to bring you here in the first place. He rips his gaze away from the glass before him and wistfully gazes at your little form. Your soft breaths, your little hums and yawns. The way you shift against him when he joins you at your side, looking for warmth he cannot give.

He balls his fists and returns to his watching.

“He kidnapped my daughter!” Your mother shouts, back of her hand pressed to her forehead as an unimpressed Satoru raises his brow unenthusiastically. “Do you have proof?”

Suguru can’t help but smirk, shaking his head at his old friend. He wishes things could’ve been different between them but Satoru belonged amongst the clouds, a god and friend to all. He finds himself exactly where he belongs - in the darkness below, the unknown depths at which mortal life ends and everything else begins.

His attention shifts as you do in his bed, little mutters spilling from your lips in a rapid enough pace he grows concerned and stands over the edge. His hair is so long it nearly graces the edge of the bundled blankets below him and he listens to your soft voice intently, as if nothing else matters. As if he weren’t just eavesdropping a mother’s desperate plea for the safe return of her child.

“Where am I?”

Suguru believes he can make out the words spilling from your lips and your eyes flutter open. He sinks to his knees beside you, a large hand cupping your cheek. He cannot tell if you are unafraid or just too unaware to shrink at his touch. I’ll take my chances, he thinks as he grabs your other hand with his free one.

“You’re home and safe, my treasure.”

Looking around the dimly lit room, your brow furrows and he softens at the sight. You delight him, in your soft and beautiful glory, and he wants you so badly it’s going to consume him. It already has.

Nodding at his words, your eyes begin to focus and you feel hands upon you. You aren’t sure how long you’ve been sleeping, it could be hours or months, but you feel rested and whole. Your fingers do not hurt nor are they blistered, your feet are warm and dry.

“Are you…him?” 

You ask and Suguru leans further onto the bed until his chest is pressed against the blankets, his face resting against the bundle of them directly over your stomach and chest. He shakes his head gently, still cupping your face. He uses his hold to point your chin downward so that your eyes meet his. 

“Who?”

A gentle sigh escapes you and you lean into his touch, head heavy with fatigue. You are still not completely aware of your surroundings but you can think back to the times as a child your mother warned you of a man who offered nothing but darkness.

“You are the light of this world, my child.” She would warn you as you sat upon her lap and let her brush and manipulate her hair into the style she liked best. “Don’t ever let darkness consume you. Do not let him reach you.”

You giggle softly and your sleepy gaze dances over the handsome face of the man next to you. Angular and sharp, yet something distinctly and indescribably boyish lives inside of his eyes. Perhaps it's an internal softness, a fondness for you, turning outward.

“The God of the Underworld,” you whisper and he feels your palm pressed against his where he holds your other hand. “You’re Suguru, aren’t you?”

For a moment, he wonders how far a lie could take him. He could keep you here in his quarters forever, never revealing himself as anything more than a concerned traveler that found you passed out in the meadow. He could lie. He could transform himself again just to eliminate all risk of you leaving.

He could chain you to the bed. He could keep you here, never to let the sun’s rays grace your skin again. He could pluck those beautiful butterfly wings straight from your soul and cage you.

Instead he shakes his head and offers a small smile.

“You’re right, it’s me.”

You laugh again, still groggy and he wonders silently what you find so funny until he hears the raised voice of your mother from the screen behind him once more.

“How could you even insinuate my daughter would leave with a beast like that?” She shouts, snotty sniffles punctuating her words. “A man so vile you cast him out yourself, Satoru, and yet you allow the most delicate thing on this planet to be sullied by his hand.”

Suguru shakes his head and turns his attention back to you, watching as you glance across the room to make sense of your surroundings. How are you so trusting?

“It’s a little dark here.”

He nods, eyeing the sconces on the walls for a moment before saying a name you can’t quite make out in your state. A servant enters the room and he asks that they turn a small knob on each of the fixtures and they do so with a nod, exiting as quickly as they entered the room. The light is still far dimmer than the sunlight you are used to but it helps you further examine the features of the man next to you.

“Thank you,” you whisper as your eyes flutter shut again, the magic taking its hold over you as Suguru grasps your hand tightly between his. He needs to break the spell completely but he will let you rest, he reasons as you gently fall back into a deep sleep. It pains him to break contact with you, letting go of your hand but keeping your cheek cupped in his palm until he feels satisfied. 

Your mother continues to shout behind him. His interest is only piqued when Satoru speaks, turning his head to glance over his shoulder.

“I will see if I can speak with him, Demeter. You rest until then. Looks like you need it.”

Suguru freezes in place, wondering exactly what his old friend has planned. Perhaps it’s a deterrent from further outbursts from the goddess screeching at him. Reluctantly, he lets you go and rises to his feet and rushes toward the door where one of his most trusted servants is posted outside.

Pulling the door open, he peaks around the corner and the woman in waiting gazes at him expectantly. 

“Yes, my lord?”

Suguru offers a measured glance, dark hair falling over his shoulder as he leans. 

“Please prepare a raven, I have a letter to send.”

Things have been tense since your arrival and Demeter's angry cry to the other gods for your return. Even the lowest of his servants feels strange seeing a sunbeam trailing through the corridors, each of them surprised at how easily you seem to have taken to the human embodiment of darkness itself, although they’d never speak the thought aloud. It’s as if you’re hiding your fear of him, no alarm despite the fact he eyes you hungrily every time your back is turned. 

“My lord?”

The unlucky servant currently standing in his proximity knew the look as soon as he saw it, glancing at the back of your head as if he could look directly through your skull and into your thoughts. The only wish of the God of the Underworld would be to find himself in your thoughts as you are in his.

Despite how easily he loses himself in observing you, Suguru’s brows raise as he shifts his attention from where you gather your skirt in your hands, carefully appraising his estate to the servant approaching him gingerly. Their posture is slumped with anxiety, shoulders rounded forward.  

“You have a visitor.”

Raised brows furrow, the skin between pinching. Folding his arms over his chest, the god lets a sigh he’s unable to stifle escape and turns his back to you reluctantly. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, it’s just that he would rather not leave any of this up to chance. He risked so much bringing you here - why would he leave anything up to chance when fate has deemed it so that you are to be together?

Glancing over his shoulder to where you stand, still curiously staring at the vines that crawl along the columns that make up the structure of the property. The sidelong glance shows him that you are still within an arm's reach and he turns his attention toward the servant. 

“Who is it?”

The servant shakes their head and the pinched skin between his eyebrows further puckers as a frown crawls across his features. The words don’t have his usual bite, despite the frustration on his face, and the servant feels as though they can speak until they see you turn toward Geto’s back from over his shoulder. 

“Excuse me, Lord Geto?” 

Suguru’s attention is pulled away immediately when he hears your voice from a few feet away, your hands grazing the petals of flowers growing despite this unnatural habitat. The ground is dark and cold, no light to warm the soil, yet yellow daffodils spring through the near black dirt. 

“What is it, my treasure?”

In an instant he is by your side, gazing down at the yellow petals that dot the otherwise dark ground. The servants hadn’t mentioned to him that flowers were beginning to bloom again, instead he noticed it now, watching you bend at the waist to grasp delicate yellow petals between your thumb and index finger. 

“Have these always grown here?” Nodding his head at your question, his long hair fans against his chest and you gaze up at him through your lashes curiously. “Yes but it has been a long time since they’ve bloomed.”

Despite knowing he took you against your will, it’s difficult for you to find contempt for the man given how kindly he has treated you. He has given you a space to call your own and expects only your companionship in return. No tilling fields, no guarding the dryads, simply being allowed to exist for the first time in your life without paying a toll to do so.

This is a stark contrast to the life you were plucked from - working sunrise to sunset to appease your unappeasable mother. 

If you miss your home, you haven’t told him so yet. The thought has crossed his mind that you are only playing to his sensibilities, trying to outsmart an old god with your clever youthful ways, but he sees the genuine warmth in your smile when it appears. Aimed at servants, even the damned begging for his forgiveness, your compassionate nature shines through. 

Despite the fact this is not a place meant for one as beautiful as you, he only hopes there will come a time when you his home as a place the two of you are meant to share. The way you eye the daffodils only allows hope to grow inside of him, dark eyes drinking in the sight of you as you pluck the yellow flower from its stem and hold it in his direction with an uncertain smile.

“You won’t be able to keep her here for much longer, Suguru.”

Another voice draws his attention from you and he clenches his jaw, molars grinding together so roughly the joints begin to ache. Shoko, he thinks. Fuck. You stand and gasp, recognizing the woman yourself although you cannot begin to fathom what this visit could mean for you. 

“Good to see you, old friend.” The Goddess of Magic pats his shoulder as she breezes past him to your side, chocolate colored hair parted to expose her face.

You can recall seeing it numerous times throughout your childhood, attending feasts at your mothers’ home on more than one occasion. She’s as beautiful as she is powerful and you can hardly hide your confusion wondering why she would be here, extending a hand in your direction. 

Suguru looms from over your other shoulder, eyes practically blazing as he looks toward the scene unfolding in front of him. She’d come to take you and he simply would not allow it, stepping closer until he stands directly behind you and braces a hand on your shoulder. 

“What business do you have here, Shoko?”

She laughs at his informality and shakes her head, grasping your hand for a moment before dropping it. Looking between them, you swallow thickly and she sighs watching your eyes immediately look upward at Suguru, looking for answers. 

He looks back down at you in the way one may view a treasured pet. She realizes in that moment, as Satoru had warned her, his obsession had won and disrupted the careful balance of the heavens.

“My business is currently gazing up at you as if she’s afraid to look away, my lord.” 

The words strike you between the ribs and you quickly avert your gaze, fixing it on the single flower in your hand. Anger practically pours off of Suguru as he looks over his shoulder at the servant still waiting and nods them over to where the three of you stand. 

“Please return her to her quarters,” he commands and you scoff in protest. Eyes wide, you feel him gently push you in the direction of the servant. Without thinking, you press your heels into the ground you stand on and turn to face him.

“I believe I should be present to find out my own fate.”

The servant gasps bearing witness to your first act of defiance since your arrival. You wait for a flash of anger to cross the Lord of the Underworld’s face but it never comes, a fond smile the sight you see instead. 

“Your fate has already been decided.” The finality in his tone makes you feel captured, mirroring the emotions that swirled through your mind on the day he took you. “You needn’t worry about all of this.”

Lifting his hand from your shoulder, he pets your hair gently before giving you another gentle push in the direction of the waiting servant. This time, you are too stunned to argue and you’re whisked away in an instant. Left only to glance over your shoulder at him, you feel hot tears spill out of the corners of your eyes but you find it difficult to explain why.

Geto’s gaze follows you until you are back inside of the estate and out of his view completely, the goddess staring at him expectantly in a means to end his lovesick antics. It’s beneath him to act like this, as if he’s a parched man and you are a cool stream. 

“Are you aware that her mother is prepared to tip the realms upside down if it means she’ll be returned?”

Shoko doesn’t bother to hide the judgment dripping from every word and he rolls his eyes in response, arms folded over his chest. It’s always a treat to see her longtime friend act as if he were young again, petulantly sulking because his favorite toy needs to be put back in her box. 

“Let her return, Suguru.”

He says nothing, his friend turning to him with an unimpressed glance.

“No young goddess is worth war. I assumed you would’ve figured that out by now.”

He decided long ago that you are worth ripping this realm apart for.

Weeks have passed since the last time you graced Suguru with your presence.

Shoko's visit created unexpected tension between the two of you and he wonders what he could have done to upset you enough that you have completely frozen him out while he takes long strides through the courtyard, eyes falling to the ground below him to see once blooming yellow flowers droop sadly.

They need you just as badly as he does.

"Please call for her again," he mutters to the servant that walks with their head pointed downward to his left. "Explain that is an order and no longer an invitation."

Suguru's discerning gaze doesn't leave the ground but he hears the footfalls that tell him his orders will be fulfilled without question, as expected.

Upon bringing you here, he decided he'd use the gentle approach with you. No reprimand, no demands, just gentle redirection and letting you come out of your shell at your own pace. Those first few weeks were blissful, you'd wait outside his chamber door until he arose to walk along the grounds with you. You refused to touch him, uncertain of where boundaries lie, but you remained curious enough that occasionally your arm would brush against his.

He'd have to claim other duties needed attending to get away from the near suffocating rush of blood from his head to his cock, length stiff and uncomfortable beneath his robes.

Part of him misses that feeling, the rush and flutter of what he has justified in his own mind as love. It certainly must be, he reasons, given the way he has miserably through his own kingdom for weeks while you've refused meals and visitors. Even damning has become uninteresting without the promise of the sun's radiant light across his face once the dirty work is done. You are his sun, his world, his everything.

Why don't you feel the same about him?

A sickening feeling settles in his gut as he wonders if you are communicating with your mother behind his back. Perhaps Shoko's visit brought you the means to do so, a plan to run and hide and stay away. His fist clenches at the thought and he clears his throat, an uncomfortable thickness coating his tongue. That is a possibility he will not, cannot, allow.

Footfalls draw his attention upward and he notices you walking alongside the servant he sent to fetch you. The look on your face is unreadable, you think, but he plucks you out like a ripe little pomegranate with little effort.

You're throwing a fit as a young goddess does. You're old enough to know better, an adult, but young enough not to care and looking the Lord of the Underworld in his face with a pout makes a feline smile spread across his face.

He's so handsome you almost stop in your tracks but you choose to avert your gaze instead, pretending dying vegetation has captured your attention for the first time in days. Suguru chuckles at your insolence, the dangerous man as unintimidated as one can be.

"She rises," he says flatly and he can almost see your shoulders deflate as you continue to refuse to meet his eyes. "Come, come. Let's discuss what's bothering you."

The servant leads you to his side before being dismissed with a wag of his head and you glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

He's everything you remembered seeing a few weeks ago but you cannot shake the way that his dismissal on the day of your goddess visitor upset you. You believed he saw you as more than a pawn, a person rather than a vague outline for his own desires, but you began to question his intentions that day and have ever since.

"Are you happy here?"

The question makes you turn your face toward him, pout falling. Never in your life have you been asked to consider your own happiness.

In your realm, your happiness is directly tied to how happy you make your mother. How hard you work, how harmonious your meadows are, how productive you can be. You struggle to recall the last time anyone besides the dryad, who you technically had and have dominion over, bothered to ask you about yourself.

The act leaves you speechless, his face pointed downward in your direction. You dare to glance up at him and the elegant slope of his nose, his dark eyes narrowed but radiating a warmth you never imagined a man enshrouded in such darkness down to the cape of hair caressing his shoulders would be capable of.

Moving closer to him, you let your arm brush against the sleeve of his robe and he attempts to keep his face stoic despite the sheer gift of your touch. He must keep his cards close to his chest in case you've found a way out - he cannot afford to spare any vulnerability.

"I think that I could be, my lord."

You're choosing your words carefully and he knows it. He watches as you swallow and your face twists, bottom lip quivering. Despite his better judgement he reaches out for you, cupping your soft cheeks between his cool hands. You don't attempt to dodge him or stray, meeting his eyes.

"If I wanted to be forced to meet demands, though, I would have already returned home."

He knows all too well the demands of which you speak, his years spent watching you from below giving him knowledge of the fact you've never been happy locked away while your mother holds the key to your freedom.

"I understand," he starts, dropping his grip on your face and bringing his hands to his sides. It's not that he does not wish to give you the freedom you desire, it's that he cannot do so and please his own desires as well. "Do you wish to return home?"

He asks and you shake your head quickly, firm in your decision to remain here despite things feeling uneasy with Suguru. Locking yourself in your room and spending all of your time alone is better than what awaits you above, the wrath of your mother promising you'll be working in the fields for the rest of your life.

"Lady Shoko promised me safe passage if I wanted to return but I would prefer to stay here if you will allow it."

That smile crosses his face once again and you can't help but mirror it, cheeks heating knowing it's meant for you. In the time the two of you have spent together you can't seem to recall a single time you've seen him smile, much less like that, at anyone else and it sends a swarm of butterflies drifting through your stomach and chest.

"Of course, my treasure," he reaches up to cup your face once again and you gingerly lean into the kind touch, cheek rubbing against the heel of his palm. "As I've told you, this is your home."

Your home. Not his domain, not a place he's graciously allowing you to take residence until he decides his plans for you.

Nodding between his hands, you offer a smile of your own that fades as his face suddenly turns serious.

"This is your home but all homes have rules," he reminds and you nod, eyes wide. His rules cannot be any more confining than the ones you previously dwelled under.

"You are not to contact Lady Shoko without informing me first, understood?"

Uncertainty dances across your face and he tightens his grip on your cheeks for a moment, dipping his head so that your noses nearly touch.

"It's for your safety only," he comforts, spurred on by the way your posture has tensed as you consider what he's saying. "We cannot trust she won't inform your mother and she won't drag you back with her by your hair."

Doubt falls away from your face at mention of your mother and it takes all of his willpower to keep himself from smirking at how quickly you give in at the mere mention of what you left in the first place. Nodding, you accept his words without question and he's reminded of why he's so terribly fond of you in the first place.

"I understand," you mutter, mirroring his previous words to you and the corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk as he dips his head low enough that your noses do touch this time, the tip of his brushing gently against yours.

"I'll pay any cost to keep you safe and that's why I had you sent away during my conversation with Lady Shoko," he apologizes and you believe he's earnest given the way he looks down through heavily lidded and lashed eyes. "I won't make that mistake again. You do deserve to decide your own fate."

He keeps the fact your fate has long been decided to himself, the illusion of choice more important than actually having choice itself. You smile sweetly, nodding between his palms, making your noses brush once again.

"Thank you, Lord Geto."

He shakes his head, backing away from you. The smile on your face dims with the loss of him so close and you send a message to your fingertips to stay at your side - you haven't been given permission to touch him as badly as you want to.

It's isn't the first time you've considered how he'd feel between your palms. Would he be cool to the touch, as his own hands are? Would he let you explore each divot and crease of his body, your eyes roving and your imagination doing the same? Would he allow you to kiss him, lips brushing against lips, noses brushing once again?

Heat you feel fearful of blooms in your gut and you look away, cheeks warm. You hope he can't tell what you're thinking as you wait for him to respond.

"Suguru," he corrects. "I'm always Suguru to you."

He swears he sees the yellow daffodils at his feet spring to life with the warmth of your gaze when you avert your eyes from him to the ground, girlish embarrassment keeping you from looking a god in the eye. Chuckling, he reaches for you again and pulls your face toward him, pressing his cool lips against your forehead.

You gasp and he drops his hand, squeezing yours that lies at your side before turning to leave but not before tossing another glance in your direction over his shoulder.

"Let's do this again soon. I've missed it terribly."

You nod a response, too shaken to speak.

"What do you bring before me?"

Suguru never looks more grand than when he sits on this throne of bone, the picture of repose with his legs spread wide enough that his robes fall between them. His arms rest on either side of the chair, generally, but right now he rests his chin between the thumb and finger of one hand watching while his servants bring forth another soul for his judgement.

You watch from your own spot in the crowd, flanked by guards, simultaneously curious and horrified at how easy this is for him. He is judgement and you simply get to witness the process of life created above being squandered down below due to its own misdeeds.

He has been doing it for a long, long time, you remind yourself if only to quell the way your stomach turns as he denies another lost soul passage.

The job he's performing isn't entirely unlike yours - the ability to bring forth life, even if it is just simple vegetation and flora, a gift you were born with. Flowers bloom where you walk, trees grow leaves to shield you from the sun. You're the sole reason little yellow daffodils have once again sprung up across the grounds, the servants marveling at life dwelling the halls of the otherwise dismal realm.

"My lady?"

Your eyes flit from where the man you are so enraptured by sits to your left, one of his servants kneeling at your side. You greet them with a smile and they shrink slightly, uncertain of how to react to the unweighted offering. A smile means something down here and usually it isn't anything good, a lesson you haven't yet had to learn given the way the Lord of the Underworld reciprocates the sunny glances you give him.

"Lord Geto has asked that you join him in his chambers momentarily."

That isn't what you were expecting to be told and it must show on your face, smile falling into a small "o" shape as you look down at your unimpressive robes. You took care to look nice today, of course, but you don't feel as though you should appear before him looking like this.

"I'll escort you," the servant offers and you nod, still uncertain of what will be happening behind the heavy, closed doors when he has you alone.

The two of you haven't truly been alone until this point. There's always a servant, a courier, a guest. You aren't sure one can ever be truly alone in a place like this that dwells with the damned but you rise to your feet anyway, bowing your head as you walk through the crowd and toward the corridor that leads to your destination.

His chambers are empty when you arrive but you are ushered through the doors anyway, jumping as they shut with a heavy slam behind you.

Just like that, you are left to your own devices.

The already cavernous space seems even larger when you're standing in it, eyes darting from the walls to the ceiling to the bed itself. You remember, vaguely, spending time there. You can almost recall the way the linens felt against your skin, cool and comforting. You know he touched you then, held your hands and your whimpering form if you'd wake up in the night disoriented and fearful.

It couldn't have been more than months ago but it feels like a lifetime, you're a different woman than you were the first time you rested beneath those sheets but you will always remember his kindness.

Gingerly, you step out of your spot and begin to pace around the room with your hands clasped behind your back. Your footsteps fade into background noise as you look around and wonder when he will join you, still feeling anxious about why he called you there in the first place.

Part of you hopes he will finally kiss you in the privacy of his chambers. That he'll finally do what you've felt he's on the precipice of doing for weeks, gentle brushes of your hand and his body against yours sending you reeling and running back to your own quarters to catch your breath.

Without noticing, your fingers flit to your lower lip and you rub it gently, imagining what it would be like to be kissed by a man for the first time. This is no mere man, though, this is a god.

You want to be kissed by a god.

Giddiness makes you giggle to yourself, your fingertips still rubbing an idle pattern across your lower lip as the door opens behind you. Dropping your hands to your sides, you turn toward the open doors with a smile as Suguru steps into the room.

He smiles at the sight of you too and your palms bead with sweat as he approaches you, towering a head above your own and tilts his head to the side.

"Do you remember the last time you were in here?"

Despite recalling the fuzzy outlines of what occurred during the weeks you were too tired to move just moments ago, you shake your head. You'd like to hear own retelling of the events if he'd be generous enough give it to you. He chuckles and brings his hands to your biceps, holding them gently.

"You slept for weeks," he reminds, smile still spread across his features. You don't have to know his own magic is the reason that you slept and he has no intention of informing you of such. "I sat by the bed and kept watch, I wanted to make sure personally no harm would come to you."

It's romantic, you think, the way that he cares for me.

It can't simply be the thrill of being away from home any longer that makes your stomach flutter in his presence. It isn't the forbidden fun of doing something you know your mother would hate, frolicking in a realm that doesn't belong to her at the side of a man with more power than you can imagine.

You are feeling something dangerously real and it emboldens you to bend your arms upward and grasp his wrists in your palms. His smile dims into a sultry smirk and you return it with a moon-eyed look of your own.

"I wish I remembered more about it," you mumble. His hands slide from your arms toward your face and he gently rests them on either side of your neck, thumbs resting on the delicate column of your throat.

"We have plenty of time to make memories you do remember in here," he offers and you giggle nervously. "That's not why I asked you here, though."

Your smile dims as you look at him curiously, hands still wrapped around his wrists. His smirk falls and his face becomes unreadable, eyes darkening.

"Do you believe me a monster after witnessing my work?"

Those words aren't what you were expecting to hear following his prior ones but you shake your head with urgency, tightening your hold on his wrists.

"Of course not, Suguru," you let his name slip past your lips and he squeezes the sides of your neck in response. Your eyes flutter and you stutter. "W-we all have jobs we must do even if they're ugly."

He nods once.

"I knew you'd understand."

Nothing further is elaborated but you don't mind, basking in his praise of you while watching him carefully. You look over his lips, his cheekbones, his dark eyebrows that seem knit together in concern.

"Is something the matter?"

Your voice is delicate when you ask, sweet a spring breeze it has been far too long he's felt caress his skin, and he chuckles darkly.

"I've been called away to meet with your mother and Lord Gojo."

Frozen, your eyes widen and he moves to soothe you, pulling you into his chest and pressing your cheek against his robes. Your arms fall to your sides but you move to wrap them around his waist instead, burying your face and inhaling the sharp, clean scent of him.

He smells nothing like the death you've experienced in the meadows, a bird or a faun, at times an unfortunate wanderer. He carries none of the smell of decay or ruin. Not of the rot of dead flowers, earthy and pungent enough you have to turn your head away to clear your nostrils.

Just clean, simple, pure. You inhale and savor.

"They haven't asked that you accompany me and I am making no plans to bring you."

This should concern her, he thinks. Your fate is once again being decided without your presence but you don't seem nearly as offended this time as you were the last.

"I'd rather stay here, if that's alright," you mumble against his chest and he squeezes you. This is the answer he desired, perhaps even expected, but it delights him. You made it there on your own without any gentle direction.

"Of course it is," his big hands rub your back as he soothes you. "I'll ensure you're taken care of while I'm away. You will want for nothing, I promise."

His assurances settle in your chest warmly and you unbury your face from his robes, looking up. Without thinking, you crane your neck as long as it will stretch and stand on your tip toes, pressing your lips against his chastely.

The last thing he expected was for you to be this bold but he presses his lips against yours in return nevertheless. The kiss is merely a peck, a rubbing of skin on skin instead of the tongue and teeth and saliva he'd love to share with you, but it's a message. Return home safe dances across his lips sure as your soft skin grazes them and he misses the feeling as soon as you step down, feet flat on the ground below.

Smiling down at you, he presses his lips against your forehead the same way he always does when he's about to take his leave and you deflate almost visibly knowing this means the two of you will be separated for an unknown amount of time.

"No harm will come to you nor will any decision be made without you present, understand?"

He's making a promise he can't keep yet you nod, eyes searching his face for any inkling of what could be coming.

"I must go immediately but I will return to you as soon as I'm able."

You sigh, the sound light as air, and he chuckles despite himself. Holding you for a moment longer, he kisses your forehead one final time before creating space between the two of you. You watch him head toward the door with a frown, lips still tingling with the touch of a god.

"You can stay here until I return," he mentions breezily as if the two of you are discussing meal plans and not the potential of violence that awaits him in the earthen realm. "These quarters are your own now."

You nod, looking around.

"I'll see you soon."

He exits the doors in a rush, muttering under his breath while shutting them tightly behind him. The small army he has requested to flank the doors while he's gone approaches him, standing at rest while they await their orders.

"She is not to leave this room except to take meals or explore the grounds. At least four of you must remain with her at all times."

The guards nod in unison at his orders knowing their options are obey or die and you stand blissfully unaware on the other side of the door of the fact you've just been locked into a cell until he can figure out how to keep you here permanently.

"We can't keep going this long between seeing one another, Suguru."

Geto hums unenthusiastically, stomping through the entry of your mother's sprawling estate while Lord Gojo joins him at his side, jovially sipping from the same chalice that has remained full for his entire stay on the grounds. He's certain the nymphs utterly dote on his old friend, tittering over his pretty eyes and hair, the same way everyone does.

"If it were up to me we would not meet at all, Satoru, but I appreciate your warm welcome."

Gojo clutches his chest with his free hand and cackles, tipping his head back as he matches Geto's pace with ease. The sunlight that pours into the open marble halls burns the darkened eyes of the man who was summoned here for no reason other than to be threatened and he finds his patience thinning with every word he is being forced to listen to.

"You wound me, old friend. Have you forgotten how much fun we used to have?"

Suguru snorts.

"Unfortunately, no."

They did have fun at one point in time before a war and their responsibilities turned a friendship into something uneasy - a constant power play between the man gifted with the divine dominion over everyone and everything and the man doomed to herd them after they've done their earthly wrongs. It hardly seemed fair but as you said, sometimes jobs must be done no matter how ugly they are.

"Well, if it's any consolation, I do not blame you for your misdeeds in regards to the young goddess. She is very pretty."

The mention of you makes Suguru bristle and the other god just shrugs, chuckling as he sips more wine and the two of them finally approach where your mother rests among her nymphs with her arms folded over her chest. If looks could kill, the Lord of the Underworld would surely find himself one of the damned.

"Nice of you to join us, Lord Geto. Finally able to carve enough time out of your schedule of torturing my daughter to show up?"

He offers a polite bow of his head, refusing to speak any further. A servant offers him wine and he refuses, raising a palm.

"So now you refuse an offering of wine? You truly have no sense, that's one thing about you that is perpetually true."

Satoru chuckles at his side, amused by your mother's undressing of the fellow god before her, and he recalls just how long all of you have known each other. Since you were young gods and goddesses, much like you who hasn't seemed to realize you are his captive and not his prize as he keeps insinuating.

"My demands are simple so I will not keep you for any longer than I must," your mother starts and Suguru's eyes flick upward to examine her. The two of you resemble each other enough that it's striking but you lack her venom, something he's grateful for having been bit by the snake more than once so to speak. "My daughter will be returned to me by next sunset and there will be no harm to you or your realm."

Finally, the man breaks his silence and he shakes his head with a chuckle, raven colored mane fanning around him with each movement.

"And if I refuse?"

Your mother chuckles in like, leaning forward in her sitting position. A man is smart enoguh to know when he's about to be bitten again so he takes a few steps backward.

For being a gentle Goddess of the Harvest, she sure is rotten.

"Then there will be repercussions."

He nods.

"She's happy where she's at. Come take her if you'd like to try."

Moving to turn on his heel and exit, he's stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He knows it belongs to Satoru and he sighs, tensing his shoulders to shrug him off to no avail.

"Now don't be hasty, Suguru. There is a lot at stake here."

The only thing he can think of is what's at stake being you. He could agree, send you back to this realm to pick and grow and dig until your fingers bleed. He could watch you as he has for all these years, cold and alone wondering when he'd have the opportunity to make you his own.

"If there's so much at stake, come claim what you desire so badly."

Satoru drops his hand and turns his head to look at Demeter, shrugging. His friend takes his leave, exiting through the corridor he just entered through

"There's your answer," he sniffs. "I did all I could."

If death himself is willing to die for you, there isn't much more than Satoru can do besides sit back and wonder what about you has become so enchanting to the man he'd risk it all for another taste of his little prisoner.

It has only been days since the last time you saw Suguru but you grow restless within his chambers despite the comfort they bring you.

You snuggle into his bedding, the familiar scent of him bringing only temporary ease to the pain in your heart his departure has brought, and wonder how his meeting is going but your mind drifts to things far less worrisome than if you'll be forced to return home or not.

Oddly enough, your mind settles on thinking about the man that Geto mentioned before his departure.

Lord Gojo is someone you've met a few times and you've always found him to be jovial if not a bit grating at times, flirting with the nymphs and servants without a care in the world despite his massive power. You take a moment to consider the differences between the two men, one wearing his power like a halo and the other like a noose.

You can't help but wonder if it's a difference in who they are in their hearts that led them to such opposing views of their power, perhaps even the world at large. You make a note to ask Suguru more when he returns, stretching your legs beneath the blankets over them with a frown.

The chamber doors open and you sit up, smiling as Suguru enters but your face falls noticing the droll look across his. You don't move to further cover yourself, allowing him see your bare flesh in person for the first time but the view doesn't spur the look off of his face.

"My treasure," he starts before sinking to his knees at the side of the bed. "You need to listen to everything I'm saying, okay?"

You remember this sight all too well, big hands capturing one of your own but you're grateful to be cognizant this time. He allows himself the luxury of one moment to look over you - your soft skin, your pebbled nipples topping perfect breasts, the delicate divot of your bellybutton - but the moment is fleeting as he meets your eyes and you understand the situation must be serious.

"I am willing to send the realm into disarray to keep you but I have to know that you want to be here with me and nowhere else."

Granting you a moment to think, he watches your face carefully for any sign of uncertainty. The faintest trace will mean that he failed, all of this was for nothing, but it hasn't appeared yet. You reach for his face, cupping his cheek in your small palm and he exhales, smiling serenely.

"Can you promise me freedom, Suguru?"

Pondering your words, fear seeps into his limbs but he decides to, for once, give you an honest answer. No deception, no hint of trickery despite how easy it would be for him to keep you here as his captive and not his lover. He could lock you away, post all the guards outside your door for all eternity and you'd never leave but he wants you to want him. To need him. To desire him.

"I cannot promise you freedom but I can promise you devotion like you've never experienced."

You nod and lean toward him, lips brushing against his once again. The intent is far less chaste than the first time, the heat you always feel stir inside of you when you look at him for just long enough sending fire through your limbs. Pulling away from his face for a moment, you smile and reach for his shoulders to pull him into the bed with you, to which he obliges. Kneeling above you, he searches your face and you brush his hair off of his face and over his shoulder.

"Then I promise you the same."

The confirmation he needs leaves your lips and he can hold back no longer, hungrily enveloping your lips in a kiss that you eagerly accept. It would take more time than you currently have to consider when you began to fall for this man who plucked you from your home and dropped you into a world not meant for you, so you simply choose to focus on the way his hands feel across your bare flesh.

They're as cold as you expected they'd be but it isn't unwelcome, deft fingers dancing along the underside of your soft breast while he dots your jaw and neck with sensual kisses that make your head feel the same way it does after you've enjoyed dandelion wine with the dryad back home - lighter than air and heavier than lead.

Groaning, he begins to rut his hips gently against your bare mound and you reach for the tie fastening his robes over his waist, fingers moving to untie the knot as quickly as you can. You don't expect to feel him pressed against you so quickly, the searing heat of his heavy cock sliding through your already slippery folds and catching on your sensitive clit in a way that makes you gasp.

"I-I've never done this before," you confess as if it's a sin, your stomach in your throat. He leaves his task of lavishing attention on your neck for a moment to meet your eyes, smiling in a way that makes your thighs clench around his torso.

"I'll take good care of you."

He will and he does, returning to kissing a path down your neck until he reaches your breasts, taking one pert nipple into his mouth with a lewd moan. The sound of him laving his tongue over the sensitive spot makes you arch your back, his cock still rubbing you just short of where you need him most and you whine. He releases your nipple from his mouth, the bud shining with his saliva, and cups your face.

"Patience. I'll make it worth your wait."

Switching to your opposite nipple, your back arches again, forcing more of your breast into his eager mouth. He loves seeing you already on the precipice of coming apart, fortunate to be the first and only man to ever see your lust heavy gaze.

You tear me apart, he thinks as he gazes up at you with your lashes resting against your cheek and your mouth open in a beautiful display just for him. Releasing your nipple, his hands trail down your torso and he moans, aloud, at the feeling of the hair covering your mound beneath his fingers. It's as luxurious as the rest of you and he promises on a day when less is at stake, he'll give you the attention you truly deserve. He'll bury his face in the thatch of hair and even lower, giving your cunt as many kisses as he wishes to give your pretty mouth, but with an uncertain future time is of the essence and he doesn't want to hesitate in claiming you.

Tentatively, he traces his finger along the seam of your pussy and you hiss at the teasing, canting your hips messily into his touch. This is true need, the sum of your want greater than any mishap that your clumsiness could cause, and he smirks against the top of your breast and watches your face contort in pleasure as he spreads your lips with his index finger and thumb of one hand, using his middle finger to rub methodical circles over your clit.

"Is that alright?"

He asks and all you can manage is a nod and a pant, walls flexing with each circle his finger turns over the engorged bud. Your head continues to swim and your eyes shut, your chin tipping toward the ceiling but he cannot allow you not to witness your own undoing. Using his free hand, he cups your chin gently and tips your face back down to give you a full glance at his sticky finger working its way to your entrance.

A squeak leaves you as he gently spreads the wetness seeping out of you from your cunt upward toward your clit, the slick feeling of his just his finger making your eyes roll backward in your head. This is nothing you've ever felt before but it's everything you've imagined, the gentle way he keeps kissing your breast as he finally works one finger into you making you moan. Open mouthed, hot faced, chest heaving - the exact noise he wants to hear you make for all eternity.

"Feels good?" He asks, dark eyes meeting yours as they open while he thumbs at your clit messily. Your walls constrict around his finger and it makes his already painfully swollen cock jump when he imagines how you'll feel wrapped around him like a glove.

Hips moving on their own, you try to match the pace of his finger plunging in and out of you but struggle and he takes control, hand dropping your chin and sliding down your torso to hold your hip. He helps you rock your hips gently, soft mumbles and moans leaving your lips and he knows what's about to happen before you do, cunt locking his finger inside of you.

"Oh Suguru," you pant, gnawing your lower lip and shutting your eyes tightly as you cum so hard your thighs shake with the force. He smiles against your breast and positions himself so that he's on his knees, hand that was just playing with your pussy running along his length to spread his silky pre-cum and your arousal along every inch.

Watching, your eyes widen when he slides his tip through your folds before positioning himself at your opening. He leans over your body, resting on his forearm and kisses you as he moves to enter. Blunt tip slipping inside of you, you gasp but only out of dizzying pleasure.

The noises encourage him to bury another inch, slowly giving himself over to every slick, warm part of you and you gasp in unison as he continues to bury himself deeper and deeper, finally bottoming out with a deep groan right above the shell of your ear.

"Mine," he whispers and you nod, chin resting against his shoulder as he buries his face in your neck.

There's surely no disputing it now as he begins to gently thrust, hips moving in a small, merciful rhythm.

"Yours," you whimper back, kissing the expanse of his shoulder blade between staccato moans. He feels too much, too big, too hot but you can't deny that it feels good, your walls flexing around his length as if you were made just for him.

The sensuality of the moment makes him realize he's coming close to his own orgasm and he reaches between your bodies to thumb at your clit, each touch making you squeeze around him tighter and tighter until you hold him in place once again, cumming for him twice and giving him unspoken permission to do the same.

He spills himself inside of you, the heat making you whine and he chuckles while trying to catch his breath.

"Still want to stay?" He asks, face still pressed into your neck and you nod, wrapping your tired legs around his waist to trap him against you.

A square piece of white sheet dotted with small spots of blood is dropped in front of your mother by a messenger sent from the Underworld courtesy of your beloved and she shakes with rage upon immediate understanding of the meaning of what's laying on the marble before her.

You are no longer her daughter, her prized little lamb, you belong to him.

The threat of war was just that - a threat.

Autumn and winter both passed without further questioning aside from a few additional visits from Shoko who has become your reluctant ally if not friend and confidante. She has kept you as informed as you need to be about the happenings above but, at your own request, keeps the rest to herself. You're blissfully unaware and fine with it.

Your mother's refusal to invade the Underworld with her own thin resources and Satoru's refusal to send any of his own troops after a now sullied goddess rendered all attempts to return you home as futile but you do return, on your own accord, to your meadow the day before you know your duties to bring forth the fertile season begin.

"And you're sure that you will be alright on your own?"

You nod, Suguru refusing to let go of your hand while Shoko watches him unamused. It's one thing to watch your friend fall in love, it's another to watch him behave like a lovesick child with no other choice.

"Let her go, Suguru. She has work to do."

He glares in the direction of the goddess who shrugs as if to say "it wasn't my choice" about your decision to return to fulfill your duties each spring. You know things cannot run without you here and he agreed knowing how much it means to you, letting you live barefoot in the sunlight for three months of the year.

His flowers stay in bloom even while you're gone, yellow painting his walk every morning while you're away.

"I'll see you soon, okay? Don't miss me too much."

Returning to your work came naturally, watching life spring forth from you as comforting as the sound of your own heartbeat and you can't hide your smile looking overhead to watch your very own protector in the form of a blackbird flying in wide circles above you.

"You think that's him?" A dryad asks innocently and you nod, gaze still fixed above despite your hands already working their magic on the yellow and brown grass below your feet.

"It is."

[monstatron]

OBASI ADEBOWALE, THE BIG BOSS (character is a woman and butch lesbian, she/he!!) Obasi is the current leader of the Phantoms and a stoic gorilla animan with a determination to protect the city of Haderia and the ones she loves. Birthed from a legacy of heavy-hearted pessimism, Obasi struggles to find herself whilst still attempting to hold true to her values and empathy. Her sense of self is otherwise skewed, but regardless, she remains steadfast in maintaining the criminal underground of Haderia and keeping her family safe. She has been the leader of the Phantoms for over 25 years, nearing 30 soon. This has earned her the title as the "King of Haderia". She is respected by many, but not all. Obasi could care less about this, as her goal is to ultimately maintain peace within the city. She strives to provide for those in need, including the lower class and others who have been let down by the higher government. Obasi is seen as a protector of sorts because of this, as she puts a large effort into keeping military activity to a minimum in the city and ensures that resources are distributed evenly- or at least as much as possible. There is only so much that Obasi can do, but it is wise to never doubt her determination. Aside from her work as a kingpin, Obasi is a mother. She's raised three daughters. In addition, she's a maternal figure to the younger members of her syndicate, one of which she's taken under her wing. Despite being stoic and sometimes cold, Obasi is incredibly caring to her family and friends. She tries to spend as much time as she possibly can with her loved ones, and she will always make time for them if she is able. Obasi will always put her family first in dire situations, and she wants only the best for her children as well. She encourages them to seek lives outside of the criminal underground and supports them in this. Obasi herself has also sought a career far from criminal work. From a young age she had an interest in music, and this later led her to occasionally perform at adult clubs or small events under the artist name of "Amethyst Blood".

a new and more official reference of my big gorilla gal, obasi! she's been an oc i've had for so long and one that has gone through countless changes, but now more than ever she truly feels authentic to me.

obasi is the main character of a hopefully upcoming book i've been planning to write within my "blade in the city" world! blade in the city is a cyberpunk thriller novel about anthropomorphic animals in a post-human world, following obasi and her journey to find individuality.

[evillesbianvillain]

The thing with Veilguard, is that a lot of people who didn't like the videogame put all the blame on EA becuase the development was rushed and messy and some idiot had the idea to make it a multiplayer MOBA game or whatever the fuck it was going on and that can excuse some of the stuff going on in Veilguard:

everybody calling you Rook, a nickname a dwarf youve known for a month gave you, instead of your surname, especially ridicolous if you are a Grey Warden, you know, a member of a paramilitary order, and your boss calls you that. How certain factions, especially the Lords of Fortune but also the Mourn Watchers and Veil Jumpers are underdeveloped (but according to John Epler they decided to make less sidequests to focus better on a few of them and they ended up just being fetch quests or "kill these guys" for the most). Why you can't directly talk to your companions and ask them questions but have to stalk them through the lighthouse and hope they reveal something of themselves to your other companions (again, John Epler said this was a purpose choice they made and its a stupid one but I want to break a spear and say that it was probably because they didn't have the time to code or write every direct dialogue with Rook but I don't really know how these things work). Not being able to visit Minrathous.

But so much of it is an issue that started in the writing and developer room.

You cannot roleplay in the role playing game. Scratch the "there are not serious consequences of your action" part, we can file that under rushed development if we want to be nice. But you can only play as a nice, well meaning, always slightly sarcastic heroic Rook and that was a deliberate choice. You're basically only playing as purple Hawke. I don't want to play as purple Hawke. For an instance, I chose - obviously - the Grey Warden backstory (which I hated, all the backstories are the same, heroic Rook winning against a foe but disobeying orders and being punished by the mean higher ups) and when you do the mirror scene I chose the dialogue option that said "I have been impulsive when I saved that village and could've made things worse", but then when I'm talking to the first Warden and he reprimends me I can ONLY defend my actions and not agree with him or apologize for them. I wanted to play as a stern warden, respectful of the order and its authority, but the game doesn't let me do that.

The whitewashing of the narrative. Every faction (except the Grey Wardens) is super duper nice, they are all freedom fighters with XXI century politics. All the leaders of every faction believe you at face values about Super Evil Elven Gods and are willing to give you their help to slay them (except the Grey Wardens). All the factions are stripped of any nuance or of the infamous Bioware's grey morality (except the Grey Wardens, as the game, at any step, wants to reming you how stupidly secretive, kinda cultist-y and fucked up they are and how that is not a Good Thing). Especially annoying with the Crows, the local assassin's group of Antiva that is renowned for buying desinfranchised kids and torture them to make them the perfect assassins, and the Lords of Fortune, who are now the anti Indiana Jones of Thedas (but still tomb jackasses).

The whitewashing, or purposeful ignoring, of social conflict in Thedas. This game is set up partly in Tevinter and specifically in a district of Minrathous, but we not once encounter the slavery that the Imperium is built on, or racism against elves and qunari. And don't tell me "there are no slaves because Dock Town is a poor district of Minrathous", that is not how empires built on slave labour work, especially considering that Tevinter has always been based on the Roman Empire. Who do you think loads and unloads the cargo ships that dock there? You think slaves are only kept in the house and occasionally used for blood magic rituals? Not to mention that the faction for Dock Town is the Shadow Dragons, whos main work is freeing slaves, but not once we do a quest that revolves around that. And it's funny that they abandoned the entire issue with the mages and the Chantry "because we are in North Thedas" when the Chantry is a egemonical religion in Thedas. Zevran tells us that templars in Antiva guard mages like "jealous husbands", the Circle of Mages of Rivain was destroyed because they accused women there or summoning demons and the Anderfells are known for having the most pious followers of the Chantry in Thedas. I understand not making the mage issue a focus like it has been for the past three games, but to just dropt it like that is ridicolous. They didn't even do anything with the Tevinter Chantry and the Black Divine, something, I think, everybody was curious about. Ah but don't worry! We have the main dalish companion apologize 3000 times because the elves are at fault for everything going on in the world.

The characters are all shallow. There are very little important NPCs in this game and you can't directly talk to any of them if not during specific cutscenes during the story. John Epler (it's always him or Weekes lmao) said they wanted to avoid meaningless cameos but then they threw in the game characters from other games like Morrigan, Dorian, Isabela, Maevaris who was actually not from a game, but a comic, so I would've liked to know more about her, and doesn't let you interact in any way with them. Varric, for the love of god, there is no way for someone who is playing Dragon Age for the first time to give a shit about this guy. Who are these people. What do they want. Who are the leaders of these factions. The companions as well. You cannot talk to them but have to hope they will say something about themselves during random party banters in the Lighthouse and then they will have crafted cutscenes for the stupidest shit like Lucanis making Harding drink coffee. You know how some people dislike Varric, Garrus and Liara because the games want you to like them? This is what it feels with all the companions, and the forced found family is so on the nose it becomes unbearing. The romances are underwhelming, or so I am told by everyone. Davrin, who is in my opinion the best character in this game, has most of his character and quest revolving around a fucking rat with wings and all the stuff about his relationship with the dalish or wardens comes up in random party banters, again, instead of him telling me directly about it. The only relationship between companions that I found slightly compelling is between Davrin and Lucanis because they are the ONLY characters with an actual conflict going on, every other conflict is resolved immediately either by Rook stepping up and going "stop fightiiiiing why are you fightiiiiiing" or by the constrast being actually a misunderstanding, hey isn't it nice how every one of our companions are super duper nice guys who can do no wrong (like Bellara and Taash). Do you miss Mordin Solus? I know I do.

Connected to the characters issue, why the hell is the approval/disapproval system even a thing? It's impossible to lose approval from characters in this game, while they'll approve literally you standing in their vicinity. I've never worked SO HARD to try and lose approval with my companions, and it's impossible. Just, throw it away at this point, you have already implemented another system (the bond one) and are trying to work on a mass effect model, so atp just do that.

The villains oh my fucking god. This ties with the whitewashing of every good faction I have to ally with, as all the villains are super evil "bullies" with nothing else going on behind them. Maybe the only villain with something different going on is Isseiya, but all the others are faceless, corrupted evil hordes to be mowed down with Super Duper Evil leaders that have nothing going on if not a desire for Power and Conquest? Do you remember when Gereon Alexius was a desperate father who would've done everything to save his son from the Blight? Do you remember when Calpernia was an ex slave with a dream of revitalizing the Imperium by uplifting the slaves as citizens? Do you remember Meredith and the Arishok? Do you remember Loghain?? And like every side or personal quest villain/antagonist, the Evanuris are ONLY driven by power and power and power and they are so evil because they want power more power still power.

The missing/ignored plot threads. They hinted at us for years about the upcoming Tevinter/Qunari war and that went nowhere. What about the mentioned crisis/internal war/split between the Grey Wardens? Nothing. Where are Fen'hare's agents? Apparently they left Solas' side because he was a meanie and we know that because of a reddit AMA. The awakened darkspawns? Darkspawns now are officially a mindless horde and [insert GRRM piece on orc genocide] so don't worry about it.

They want a new slate in case they ever get to work on another Dragon Age in the future, and that's so obvious from certain narrative choice they made in the game, all happening far far away from us and that we know throw some fucking letters the Inquisitor sends to us and the most glaring one is the complete destruction of Southern Thedas, especially Ferelden.

The combat is... polarizing for me. On one hand, it is a mildly enjoyable action combat, and when you get over the heartbreak of never being able to build a mage like in Origins and having some tactic going on, it is fine, it is flashy enough to be enjoyable at least. But the enemy variety is terrible, the bosses are reused to hell and back and on top of that they are for the most normal enemies that are given a boss health bar (if i think about it, im pretty sure there is only one unique boss ive met so far, the archdemon, and it's such a pathetic boss fight)

The art direction. While I love, and I mean LOVE, the character design for your companions and whenever I look at them I get mad because such good design... wasted for these characters and this game. I do not like the art direction. I hate how everything has been scifi-ed, the eluvians now have rgb lights and they look like twitch streamers PCs or prothean artifacts, Bellara's magical gloves are fucking nanomachines and she literally works her magic like a mechanic. Not to mention the architecture and the neon signs in Dock Town. Most of the armors are ugly as hell and I want to talk with whoever designed the Lords of Fortune armors.

This scifi-cation carries out in the soundtrack as well, with a subpar score from Hans Zimmer.

I understand that it's not possible to work around every single choice made in the past three games, but some stuff is too important to just, leave it alone. Northern Thedas is still in Thedas and it's politically connected to it. Who the Divine is should be important, if my warden has died should matter, if Morrigan had a child should matter. They don't even make her mention the hero of ferelden EVER, whenever people talk about her they say she was a witch of the wilds and then worked with the Inquisition. ISN'T THERE A BIG GAP IN YOUR RESUME, MORRIGAN? Shouldn't a Grey Warden Blackwall be at Weisshaupt/Hossberg? But then, even the choices they have you make at the start regarding your Inquisitor are red herrings, the only thing the game cares about is wether your Lavellan romances Solas or not.

This game thinks we're stupid. I am constantly explained, over and over again what is going on. I am playing this game. I just saw the scene that has been recapped by Varric and then recapped by a text and then recapped by the characters chilling around a table commenting the scene. Not to mention all the time Rook and the companions say "We need to be in our best mind place to win this fight, we need to focus on ourselves, we need to think about ourselves first and then we can focus on the Evil Elven Gods" which is a little less on the nose way to say "do our personal quests". Insanely PG13 game.

Therapy speak.

And I think I'm done, at least for now. I have a lot of other issues but most of them are nitpicky and it's just me being annoying.

[pinkaditty]

Tokyo Debunker Headcanons

so. im insane LMFAOOOOOO but no seriously. im not even gonna elaborate. im posting these strictly as an interest check bc if anyone's interested ill keep posting them.

Body Type/Various Measurements Tokyo Debunker hcs:

FROSTHEIM ONLY (interest check!)

a/n: hihi as most of my consistent readers know, i am a biomed major and work in a med field. i love human anatomy. i couldn’t resist the urge to do this once i noticed that Lucas has a wider and taller frame than Kaito. it’s soso interesting i was just like “oh wait, lucas looks… larger than kaito?” and then i confirmed he was, his shoulders were broader and his waistline, albeit proportional, was wider. it’s so interesting. i had to. sorry!

cw: ??? hcs i guess! not trying 2 be insensitive but if u have an ed and seeing weights triggers u or something don't look at this post. i think that's it? oh also ts is not proofread i fear! i spat this out on paper and decided it was good 2 go!

MINORS DNI THESE HCS INCLUDE NSFW THINGS!! THANK YOU!!

PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE READING HCS:

note that the measurements may be misleading: for example, a waistline that is several inches smaller than bust or hip does not imply an hourglass shape unless specified. smaller waistline is proportionate to larger bust and hip, provides “normal” rather than “hourglass”. waistline larger or in similar value to bust or hip also does not imply overweight unless specified. subject may have different body type (i.e. pear or triangular), which consists of a larger waistline while still appearing lean (used a body visualizer, so feel free to input the values into one to better see my vision!). i did use a bmi calculator for this, but it is important to note that while some may appear obese or overweight based on weight, these boys have been trained for combat and usually consist of high muscle composition, which weighs more in less quantities than fat. either that, or they’re just unusually tall with a higher body mass and are inevitably going to weigh more. as for penis length: as much as we all appreciate monster cocks, i wanted to make this as realistic as possible. in japan, the penis length is generally equivalent to 7.9% of the body height. most, if not all lengths here, are based off of the values calculated. for our sakes, though, i rounded up a little teehee!!!! and i will admit, some of them i increased a little bit to fit my specific interpretation of the characters (specifically, the tall ones; for example, Tohma landed at around 6in like Jin, but i gave him 7in to account for some diversity in endowment + i jus feel like he'd be longer LOL). girth and other proportions are based purely in my own speculation. 

Jin Kamurai: Height is abt 6’2, so taller than average, but not super tall. Weight is abt 187 lbs or 84.8218 kg (not much muscle definition, but strong core and muscular arms needed to wield heavy sword), 40in underbust circumference, 30in waist, 42in hip. Triangular body type.

Excess notes: Upturned eyes, sharp nose, strongly defined cupid’s bow lips. Broad, unusually flexible shoulders. Hands are long and slender, wrists unusually small. Flatter than a wooden board in the back. Thighs and calves not very well-trained, but strong enough to give him a good base for combat. Penis length 6in, not particularly girthy or lengthy. Happy trail is present but almost invisible, silver hair against white skin relatively hard to spot. Keeps it hairy but does trim occasionally. 

Tohma Ishibashi: Height is around 6’1.5, taller than average. Weight is around 185 lbs or 83.9146 kg (enough muscle definition to be skilled in combat and wield axe, that and generally large height explain larger weight), 39in underbust, 29in waist, 42in hip. Rectangular body type.

Excess notes: Straight almond eyes, long straight nose, regular cupid’s bow lips. Long neck, very pronounced collarbones. Palms especially wide, fingers long and slender. Does not have much of an ass to work with I fear. Similar to Jin in that calves and thighs aren’t well-trained, but good enough to provide a strong base for axe-swinging. Penis length 7in, more in length than girth. Slight curve to the right. Well trimmed, no happy trail. 

Lucas Errant: Height is around 6’, taller than average, but not super tall. Weight is around 213 lbs or 96.6152 kg (large muscle definition despite being shorter, which is why he weighs more), 42in underbust, 30in waist, 46in hip. Hourglass body type.

Excess notes: I hc him to be mixed Jamaican/British + suffers from Acrofacial vitiligo (spots appear typically on face around openings, but in his case it appears on the back of his head which causes the lighter hair color there; has light spots on inner eye, under nose, and on hands, feet, and genital area). Wide, upturned eyes, small pronounced button nose, thicker lips with slight cupid’s bow. Broad shoulders. Hands thicker but wider, very heavy-handed. Has largest ass in Frostheim. Thighs and calves very well-trained, less likely to lose balance than Jin or Tohma during combat. Penis length 6.5in (used a different avg, as he’s not japanese but jamaican), thicker than usual, some varicose vein, slight left curvature. Likes to upkeep happy trail. Doesn’t trim often.

Kaito Fuji: Height is around 5’10, closer to average height. Weight is around 134 lbs or 60.7814 kg (not much muscle definition, gets minimal exercise, has defined core for archery’s sake), 34 in underbust, 28in waist, 36in hip. Rectangular body type.

Excess notes: Wide upturned cat-like eyes, sharp upturned nose, thin upper lip, bottom lip typical size. Long neck, pronounced bone structure (slightly visible spine). Hands are small and slender. Comparable to Jin in that he doesn’t have much of an ass, but isn’t quite as flat as Jin. Has more core strength than thigh or calf strength, but can establish an okay base for archery. Penis length is 5.5in, somewhat thick. Light happy trail and doesn’t grow much pubic hair. 

i want u all 2 be honest with me... am i insane 4 doing this LMFAOAOAOAOAOOO

need 2 find a new roommate bc this one keeps egging me on like "ok u ate with these descriptions" like yes thank u hype man!!!! im gonna get full of myself if u keep saying this shit

anyways. i hope you all enjoyed! im honestly not expecting this 2 do numbers but if anyone wants me 2 continue then i will!! im also working on requests in the background so things may take longer to pump out, but i will do them! until next time, my loves!

[amara555555]

The blonde man:

Warnings: Jaegyeon’s car.

Daniel park x reader:

Ah yes the country side.

“I don’t like this.”

You step over a slug as Daniel walks infront of you, resisting the urge to haul ass out of excitement. Chiang liang, if you had any words to describe it, they would be hot, eerie, and occasional nature smells of poop. You and Daniel walked side by side before he stops and dramatically looks back at the chiang liang station. You were about to speak before a few deeper voices interrupt you and turn to a horde of gangster pass by coming out a bus.

“……uh-“

Daniel pulled you close.

“They use jeong la do accents.”

You blink.

“They do-“

“Kids.”

A gravelly voice made you both jump and you turn to see a bald gangster with scars.

“Move it will ya?”

Both Daniel and you start spotting gangsters EVERYWHERE- coming out of buses and the ones out of cars where most likely higher in rank…….aw they care for traffic laws-

Daniel and you both remain close as the gangster all walked past you, occasionally bumping shoulders.

“Woa- what is the need for all this-“

You step back and do does Daniel before a car’s engine turned off behind you two.

You turn to see and what the fuck is that? The most tacky hot wheel, lightning McQueen stickers looking chocolate wrapper designed car parked behind you two.

Daniel held you closer out of instinct before the car door opened.

“I’m sor-“

“You scratched it.”

You blink after someone with a deep voice had the gall to interrupt Daniel.

“Uh- who scratched who?”

You ask confused.

“Sorry?” Daniel asked now also confused.

“I said you scratched it. You’re gonna have to buy this car now.”

“WHOSE BUYING WHAT NOW?!”

Were you going insane or was this guy having a hernia? You and Daniel exchange the most baffled faces before you blink owlishly. You both turn back to the talking ugly car.

“What kind of logic is….”

Daniel gets interrupted, AGAIN.

“Don’t try to wriggle your way out of this.”

The door open upwards, like that adds any value and you blink in confusion and annoyance. Who the hell was this Ken doll?

Expensive sneakers and some very nice pair of jeans you had saved on your asos basket.

“Kid I got everything recorded on my dash cam, you scratched it after I got a new wrapping.”

“It’s a ugly wrapping and we would’ve done you a fav-“

Daniel shook you to stop talking as he stepped backwards with you in tow. This pressure was overwhelming and overpowering. Oh shit. Was he also a gangster?

“So what’s it gonna be kids, will we stop by the police station, or will you two buy this car?”

……….

“I told you coming to country side was a bad idea.”

Daniel huffed.

“Well how was I supposed to know we’d get conned?!”

The blond man with his titties exposed and pearls dangling over his chest, his shirt collar open down to his mid chest like a man you’d find in a tropical resort drinking Angel shots, a gucci belt and g those cute jeans he wore. But you couldn’t deny, he was fucking cute.

He shook a wavy lock out his eye as he kept his sharp eyes on you two…. You fell into a 8 year old one direction stare as you dreamily stared at the older man infront of you……………..and then Daniel shrieked-

“L-LETS GO TO THE POLICE STATION! BECAUSE WE’VE DONE NOTHING WRONG!”

Daniel pulled you close again and you joined in.

“we were literally like 2 feet away!”

The blonde man blinked.

“Brats, what police station? I’m not the type of person who makes big issues out of small problems.”

“….HUH?!”

You were right. This beautiful man is having a hernia.

Daniel grew pissy.

“I SAID LETS GO! WHATS WITH THE CHANGE IN ATTITUDE?! YOU’RE NOT SURE EITHER ARE YOU???”

At this rate you just began laughing.

“Whats so funny? You laughing at me? Punk? Oi. Both of you, stop making a ruckus and just buy it, since we’re close I’ll sell to you two for cheap.”

You wipe a tear.

“With what? Universal credit?”

The blonde man almost agreed before Daniel interrupted.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN CLOSE?! WE JUST MET!”

The blond man put his hands in pocket and resumed the sass stance 101.

“Then what will you do about this scratch?”

You scoff and pull out your fake protective UV light glasses from Temu, Daniel joined in the search.

“WHERE EXACTLY IS THIS SCRATCH?!”

“Please just buy it-“

You glare and Daniel and huffs frustratedly.

“We’re not buying! Why would we buy such a childish car?!”

“Yeah?! I’d rather take that bus that smells like fe-“

Suddenly Daniel was 2 centimetres away from having his face smashed into the floor and you gasp. Pulling out your finished pepper spray.

“BACK, BACK I SAY-“

“What did you just say?Shitty car?”

His voice now cold. You shiver from the underlying ferocity in his voice and his cold eyes locked on Daniel. You put the spray away and grip his shirt, aiming to pull him off.

“Get off him! Why’re you harassing city kids?!”

The man’s eyes widened.

“Hold on. Your minors?”

You nod aggressively and Daniel answers.

“Yes.”

The man now blinked.

“19 years old?”

You both frustratedly whine in unison.

“18!!!!”

He drops Daniel and you push him out the way to get to your friend.

“Are you ok?!”

He nods vigorously.

“I can’t sell you both the car then.”

“WE DONT WANT IT!”

The blonde man began walking away.

“Relax I wasn’t gonna sell it to you two today anyways.”

You dead pan Daniel who just deflated before the blond spoke again.

“It’s just that kind of day. A sad day.”

“…….THAT DOESNT EXEMPT YOU FOR HARRASSING US?!”

He leaves and you pull out a sharpie.

“Y/N NO!”

“…….biscuits-“

[foundfamily-connoisseur]

Cramps are krampusing so uhhh my thoughts on these dudes as romantic partners and additional explanation cuz why not

Explanation in order of chart

Doc Louis:

have you seen how much he cares for his boy? Absolutely doting and will always find a way to make time for you. Honestly the only thing you'd need to talk to him with is balancing time together as partners and his own time as Macs dad i mean coach

Piston Hondo:

super respectful and he seems very communicative and willing to talk about whatever issues you two may have in a relationship(although i doubt you'd have many). He's not as obsessed with his position in boxing as some of the other folks, which means of course he'll make time for you and would enjoy doing things you'd like to do(even if it isn't his personal cup of tea)

Don Flamenco:

He's a Spaniard. Love and romance is his whole thing if he sucks at that literally what is he here for. I think if there was an issue it'd be how petty he can be(less with you and more on personal vendettas/grudges with other folks), nothing serious tho

Bald Bull:

Ok ik he has anger issues and maybe it's the biases talking but he literally only gets mad when ppl are all up in his face. Only difference between him and me is I just start bawling when that happens lmao.

I think he's the only one with bigger problems in the "good partner" section but he gets higher up because if he isn't bombarded with the paparazzi he's literally chill. Nice sweet and domestic scene me thinks

Bear Hugger:

He would prolly rank higher but I feel he's the type to be a bit dense. Nothing enough to be a major problem but you gotta spell out some things to him sometimes lol. Maybe a bit more rowdy/"dirty" than preferred, but outside of that he's a 10/10

Disco Kid:

Just nothing remarkable tbh. For sure sweet and attentive but he might be coming home late from a party (and it really will just be him losing track of time but sometimes you gotta go 🤨 😒 and give him an earful). Only fault would be his overt friendliness that might lead to others thinking he's flirting and he doesn't get it till you pull him aside and tell him and he's like OHHHHHHHH my bad lol

Glass Joe:

I probs should've ranked him higher lmao idk why he's there. I think the only thing I could fault him on is his innate stubbornness cuz no way is that only staying in the ring. It isn't that he'll fight with you on everything but he has a few select things that are his way or the high way and it just he like that.

Von Kaiser:

Look at him. He is filled to the brim with issues. I feel like his PTSD or whatever we want to assume he has gets to him a fair bit. Again I doubt it'll ever escalate to violence but there are times where it really does affect his ability to communicate or do things. Its assuredly a talk you two need to have and something you need to understand getting into the relationship. Also please get him into therapy I think that'll help but he's 42 I don't think he believes in that.

Mr. Sandman:

he'd be a fine boyfriend for sure, maybe a bit stoic in public with the occasional discrete smile here or there, but his anger issues are so much worse chat. Like he clearly values his position as world champion that when he lost it he wrecked a BUILDING!!!!

Im not going to say anyone here would be violent towards you but that man might punch walls or some shit. More than likely just absolutely obliterate his punching bag. His obsession might cause issues in your relationship that could lead to neglect on his behalf. You are for sure fighting with him on talking it out but he's sweet outside of that. If I had to move him he might teeter onto the rank below but the others are just worse so he gets saved there i suppose.

Great Tiger:

He just seems full of himself. Not as bad as SMM but enough that you'd argue with him from time to time. I feel like he'd use his clones to play silly pranks and they're fine until one day he does it when you're super tense and you end up yelling at him. His biggest sin is just not understanding what's funny to him could be annoying to you. It might take an outburst to set him straight than a one to one talk, though

Super Macho Man:

Does he treat the women he's with well? Yeah of course! At least when it comes to spending dough on them. He doesn't seem like the type to want a relationship in the first place, and if he does it's very brief since he's always looking for someone hotter than the last(or whoever is the most eager). If there is a genuine relationship, he thinks that gifts can supplement any other aspect to a relationship beyond showing you off, and would get mad that you ask him for a little quality time once in a while(like shut up he literally bought you a Porsche what more could you want????)

Also I'm going to be so real here if he doesn't think you're up to snuff looks wise he's going to be a bit of an ass. Mostly it's just him being more willing to push you aside for events and stuff because he considers you to be "lucky" that he's even sparing a minute of his time with you. Then surprised Pikachu face when you leave

Aran Ryan:

Who started this list I'm sorry chat but his ass is NOT ready for a relationship. What you get from this man is an emotionally stunted mess who can't process his own emotions beyond anger, much less yours. He either is dismissive of you at best or if he loves you completely still sucks because he doesn't know how to deal with those kinds of feelings.

He'd be possessive but not in the cute way; someone can look at you for a moment too long and he's bashing their skull in. Like it can even get to the point where he's iffy about any male friendships as a result.

Additionally that man can't process emotions for the life of him. I just feel like if he's sad he's the type to suppress it and ignore it via boxing or literally anything else until it catches up with him years later. As a result, you can literally tell him your grandpa died and he'd be like "damn" and go on with his day. Of course he feels absolutely fucking horrible for you but he assumes that his way of dealing with his problems is the way you should do it since ignoring problems = problems don't exist anymore.

Obviously, this does not work and you just end up fighting/crying. Genuinely he just doesn't seem ready for any kind of relationship and I don't think he thinks therapy is real or is the type to say it's for sissys or something.

On that note he's got a bit of misogyny to him(his quotes are not slay girlbosses) that are only not worse because his sister beats him straight.

Would he cheat? Eh. If it started off as a hook up or something than I just think he'd forget he's even in a relationship tbh. If he's actually in love absolutely not he's got standards sometimes

Soda Popinski:

I flip back and forth on where I'd place him because he seems fine overall, but of course it's his vice that does him in. It's more of a matter on how much you think his soda vice impacts his life, especially with Title Defense mode where he's super serumed with it. He's absolutely coming back home every day sloshed and you can only put up with that for so long. It's a balance act of his good character outside of his vice and the vice itself.

Donkey Kong: that is a gorilla. Ideally no one wants to date said gorilla.

Little Mac: he's aromantic to me chat he signed it to me himself.

I JUST REALIZED I DIDNT PUT KING HIPPO SHIT:

yeah nothing remarkable to him. At most yall are going to argue about how much money he spends on food but tbf you knew what to expect in this relationship idk why you're so surprised.

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt:

Pairing: Mafia! Octavinelle and MC/Yuu/ Reader

Genre: Hurt/ Comfort ig? Slight crack

TW: Kidnapping, blood, minor character deaths, mc does get a little hurt, mentions of guns, usage of guns, violence (because mafia au), mc also curses at one point, talk of killing people, the prefect wears earrings and has hair (i saw someone use put this in warnings once). Let me know if I should add anything else!

AN: First request for TWST ^^ It's my first time writing for the Octavinelle trio, so please forgive me if they're ooc, I tried my best. This was very fun to work on! Send me asks if you wanna know more about my version of mafia!twst because I had so many thoughts about this entire au but I couldn't fit everything in one post lol. Not really happy with the ending (when am I ever) but I hope you enjoy!

"I'm telling you, you don't wanna do this," You warned your captors for the third time as they checked the cuffs holding you up by your arms. It was an uncomfortable position, kneeling with your arms restrained with metal chains above your head. Your shoulders felt sore, and with how every movement made the skin of your wrists rub against the harsh metal, you just knew that you were going to be sporting some pretty nasty bruises around them.

Vil was going to be furious about that.

You watched as the leader came into your range of vision, a self-satisfied smirk painting his face as he walked over to you. There was quite some distance for him to cross to reach you, and he took his sweet time as he leisurely walked over to you. Probably an intimidation tactic, just like how making you kneel was.

You looked at him, unperturbed. Your eyes roamed over the man, who for all his intimidation tactics, was nothing but a poor little boy way in over his head. A reckless little minnow who didn't know his place, as Floyd would say.

Speaking of Floyd. You grimaced at the monstrosity of an outfit the man was wearing. In all your time as a valued member of the mafia, you had seen many outlandish outfits, courtsey of the more openly unhinged Leech twin and the field of work you were in (power had a way of killing the fashion sense of people and letting it rot inside their head). But this... was on a whole another level.

You mentally lit a candle for everyone who had to witness the... very unique display.

A sharp slap snapped you out of your thoughts. 'Did this man, just backhand me? Well fuck you too bitch', You thought to yourself as you looked back at the still smirking man. You could feel a bit of wetness at the edge of your lip, a slight stinging also being felt at the same spot. Your tongue darted out, recognizing the metallic taste of blood as you gingerly licked at the small wound.

"So this is the little Prefect of Night Raven, hm? How... pathetic. Truly, the mafia organization has fallen if they allow the likes of you to hold any position higher than a discardable pawn," he huffed, and you resisted rolling your eyes. Here comes the villainous monologue, you thought to yourself.

As the man spoke, you took note of the people in the room. Apart from you and the man, there were five other men, all very familiar faces. All of them were earlier members of NRC, who left the organization 'honorably' before your appointment as the consigliere to Dire Crowley, the main boss.

There was nothing honorable about the way they were treating you right now though.

Very reluctantly, you listened to the man's speech about how he was basically aiming to cripple Night Raven Mafia by killing you. You forced back a yawn through the speech that was supposed to strike fear into your heart; unfortunately for him, you dealt with seven very unpredictable and occasionally difficult underbosses on a daily basis. Said underbosses must have already been informed of your forced absence.

Now it was just a matter of waiting and watching to see exactly who would come to your rescue...

The door slammed open as soon as you thought that, and the eyes of every person in the room turned to it. You smiled as a very familiar face entered the room, his mismatched eyes dark and foreboding.

"Hi Floyd," you chirped, unfazed by the frown on his face and the dangerous aura around him. Floyd's eyes met yours for a moment, brightening at seeing you, before turning even harsher when he saw the state you were in; clothes (gifted to you by Riddle) rumpled, carefully styled hair (courtesy of Vil) in a disarray, and a slight swelling on the side of your face you were struck at (which would send nearly everyone into a murderous frenzy).

"Who touched my Shrimpy?" Floyd growled out at the men. "Don'tcha know that I'm the only one allowed to rough them up? You're just begging to be squeezed to death."

At this point, the men, who were earlier frozen in fear, started to fumble with their guns. Before they could even get their weapons out, gunshots rang throughout the room, each man dropping to the floor one by one.

"Ah, pardon me, but I would prefer if you did not aim your weapons at my brother," a familiar voice spoke from behind Floyd to the now dead men in the room.

You grimaced at the blood now flowing out and seeping onto the floor, the puddle growing in size and inching closer to you.

"Jade, get me out of these things," you said, successfully getting his attention as you rattled the chains holding you up.

"Ah, of course dear Prefect," Jade hummed, and you did not need to look at his face to know that he was smiling. Jade walked over to you, stopping only to take the keys to your chains from the pocket of the leader. Placing the key into the lock and turning it released you from your uncomfortable position, and you yelped as you flopped onto the ground unceremoniously.

"Shrimpy~" Floyd's rapid changes in mood was one thing you did not believe you would ever get used to, "did you really get kidnapped by this sad little bunch of minnows?" He asked, pulling you to your feet and slightly spinning you.

"Shrimpy is so helpless~"

"Indeed," Jade smiled, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You would never get used to the all too malicious upturn of Jade's lips either. He took you from Floyd's arms, ignoring his twin's grumbling as he dusted off your clothes. "Pray tell, how could such... insignificant little men capture you, dear Prefect?"

Before you could answer, a third voice rang through the room. "Jade! Floyd! I told you not to kill any of them!" Azul huffed as he entered your line of vision, glaring at the two men who sandwiched you.

"Ah, pardon me Azul, but they were going to aim their weapons at Floyd. Not to mention how terribly they were treating the Prefect," Jade hummed, not at all repentant of his actions. Azul huffed in frustration, glaring at his consigliere.

You gave him a little wave, and Azul's eyes softened as they met yours. He looked calm and collected as he walked over to you, but the trembling of his hands as he held yours gave his true feelings away. His eyes quickly scanned your body for wounds, narrowing in displeasure at the reddened skin around your wrists and the cut on the corner of your lip.

"Prefect."

"Azul," you said, not missing the way his eyes relaxed considerably as he saw you wearing the seashell earrings he had gifted you. "Ah, so that was how Idia-san found out you were kidnapped almost immediately," he hummed. You raised an eyebrow at his words.

"The earrings have trackers in them," Jade helpfully explained.

"Well, in any case, we must take you back to the Lounge. Everyone else must have assembled there by now."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because, Prefect, we were supposed to bring your kidnappers so that a joint decision could be taken for their punishment," Azul sighed as he pushed his glasses up his nose slightly.

You glanced at your kidnappers, wrinkling your nose as the blood puddle slowly crept closer to your shoes. "They're dead."

"A most unfortunate incident, yes. But, nevertheless, their identities will suffice for now. This just goes to show that we must never leave any loose ties," Azul said ominously. "Perhaps my dear colleagues will learn a lesson from this."

"... Sure. And how did you three manage to make them stay back at the Lounge while you carried out this rescue mission?"

"The heads found it best to send us three since we were most likely to bring your captors back alive," Azul said, glaring at Floyd who just roamed around the room disinterested in the conversation. "Well, that is what Crewel and Trein thought, at least."

You chuckled. "I don't think the outcome would've been any different with the others either so... let's just get to the Lounge."

Azul smiled. "As you wish, Prefect."

[dokidokitsuna]

SAY SOMETHING…!!

I’d like to go ahead and finish with this AU series soon…I never really had that much I wanted to draw for it. ^^; So to start off its second premiere, let’s go into some of the details:

This AU is titled ‘Parallel Canon’ mostly because Agent 8’s relationship with that boss forms the backbone of the plot: at first, they simply notice its resemblance to Agent 4, and learn from Marina that it’s most likely a direct copy of them. Then, after being locked in the Spire, they grow to resent it, as if Order is mocking them with these mindless facsimiles of sentient beings. A few hundred climb attempts later, though, Parallel Canon’s leader begins to behave strangely…Agent 8 starts seeing it appear on different floors, watching them battle from afar, and especially while they die.

Naturally, Agent 8’s first thought is that they’re simply hallucinating (it wouldn’t be the first time…) but later they decide to try to interact with it, and discover that it really is physically present. Agent 8 quickly becomes fixated on it, as the only element of the Spire of Order that seems to change its behavior over time, and sacrifices quite a few runs trying to communicate with it…to no avail.

They’re convinced that it’s more than just a copy; that somehow the real Agent 4 is in there, trying to defy Order’s control. They may even be in the exact same position as Agent 8: climbing the Spire in a parallel reality, forced to face off against them on the boss floors, but occasionally reaching through outside of them, if only to let 8 know that they’re not alone.

Agent 8 never really finds out if their theories are correct, even as the PC gradually morphs from an enemy to a silent bystander to an ally, helping them through the higher floors and leading them closer to victory than ever before. Near the end, Order calls it an aberration generated by Agent 8’s mind, proof that even after all the PUNISHMENT they’ve endured, they still haven’t learned “the value of an unchanging world”.

My intention is that the PC really is just a Jelleton, but one with the capacity to observe the person climbing the spire, learn from them, and respond to their emotional state, as Marina likely intended for them to do. Order tampered with its code as it did with the entire Memverse, but between Agent 4’s Palette data (which, as a digitized soul, can’t fully be controlled or predicted) and Agent 8’s excessive repeated climbings, eventually something was activated that allowed part of the Memverse’s original purpose to shine through, despite it all. In that sense, whether or not the PC “is” Agent 4 is really a matter of interpretation. ^^

[twoa-plus]

it’s 2:00am and this is more of a character thing than a genuine theory but *claps hands for the drama* same coin theory. what if both of the stans are bill

or like. a parallel to him. like i said this isn’t a super serious theory i’m mostly just back on my character analysis bs lol

so i haven’t gotten to talk abt this much but i am a firm believer in that there is not a superior stan. from a personality perspective this is obviously entirely subjective, but i mean that there isn’t a superior one when it comes to their objective traits and how useful they are

ford is. ford. i don’t really have to say anything here he’s super smart can play the piano or whatever etc etc. however one thing that i will say that i think is important here is that i am like. 99% sure this man has a higher tolerance to The Horrors than other humans do. dude spent 30 years in that portal and came out pretty much the same level of crazy, and we all saw what happened to fiddleford. i know fidds saw bill take off his exoskeleton or whatever but u can’t convince me that ford traveled the multiverse - with all sorts of monsters and non-3d dimensions and god knows what else - for 3 decades and didn’t see some shit that would make anybody else lose it. like at this point u could tell me this guy could have a casual conversation over tea with cthulu and be fine and i’d believe u

as for stan - and i mean this in the absolute best way possible i love this guy - he’s like the world’s most charismatic cockroach. he’s fantastic with people and just straight up refuses to die. for the first point i don’t just mean this in the conman way, when it comes to the people that actually matter stan always manages to win them over in some way or another (soos, wendy, the kids, ford, etc) and one does not simply survive for a decade on the street without needing the occasional favor from someone who actually likes you. “oh but rico-“ man when u’ve been living as a homeless criminal for a decade and the list of people that want to kill u consists of 1 person and the government u’ve done pretty damn well. anyways as for the cockroach point, he’s alive and has his memories. i don’t even have to say much here stan went through all of That, lived through the series itself including The Literal Apocalypse, metaphorically (something something people are just a collage of their life experiences) died at the end of it all and then came back to life. that’s hardcore as hell man. in a less literal interpretation of the “refusing to die” bit, he’s also just. insanely determined. the biggest example is ofc him never graduating highschool and yet teaching himself god knows how much math and science and whatnot over the course of 30 damn years because he just refuses to believe that he can’t save his brother. stan pines is a force of nature i swear

[additional note while im already ranting about this guy, im not a personal believer in the “stan is just as (academically) smart as ford” theory. first of all i feel like this entire theory is kind of rooted in the idea that he has to be/be on the same level as “the smart one” to have value, which is an idea that the stans’ entire backstory is based around criticizing, and i think stan has something just as if not more valuable than freakish intelligence - raw fucking grit. he wasn’t the one to open the portal back up because of some intellectual advantage, he was the one to open the portal back up because he wanted to, god damn it, and best of luck to you if you’re gonna try and stop him.]

anyways as for the same coin thing, everybody knows the stan part. his casual references to the impending apocalypse, “you’ve been buying gold, right?”, him being such a good conman, etc etc. while i’m already ranting about stan’s determination, bill’s got that too - he’s been trying for like thousands of years to take over the world and he just Won’t Stop. point is there’s a lot of character traits they share

(i know in the original same coin post a pretty major point is stan not making a deal with bill, but i think that could probably be pretty easily explained without the need for divine intervention. the only times bill makes a deal with someone without them summoning him first is after he’s kind of left on a loose end with gideon, and everyone knows stan wouldn’t fall for his lies in the first place)

bill also shares a lot of traits with ford, though. both have some kind of physical anomaly (bill’s eye & ford’s hands), both can see/understand things others of their species can’t, they’re both egomaniacs (listen i love ford but the guy has issues), etc. u could even argue that, at least at the time they meet, they have some kind of connection through their loneliness

so. with the theory of “bill was reincarnated to make up for what he did,” what if it wasn’t just stan? what if he was split in two, and his “reincarnation” is both of them? they’re flawed enough to make it a lot harder for either of them to take over the world (ford’s lack of social skills & stan’s lack of freakish academic knowledge), and they have something bill doesn’t - each other.

bill is alone. that’s his whole problem. he killed everyone he loved, treats everyone new he meets like shit, and now he’s Like That. throughout it all, the one thing the stans have always had - even if it was just in their memory - is each other. “oh but ford-“ shhhh. shhshhshshshhsh. shut up. ford has Problems but i genuinely don’t think he ever stopped loving stan. love is weird, first of all, and secondly he clearly never stopped trusting him. no matter what he might say about stan being a liar or a conman or whatever, who’s the one person he goes to when he’s forced to admit he needs help? ford is a weird guy and has an… odd way of showing it but he loves his family just like the rest of the pines and i will die on this hill

i’ve been writing this for over an hour straight and i think my brain is melting but i’m sure at this point u get the idea. both of the stans, together, serve as a parallel to bill, and the one thing they have that he doesn’t is love. that’s what killed him.

something something killing an interdimensional dream demon with the power of friendship and this gun i found

[crystallizedtwilight]

Do the names LSBs parents gave them have any significance or meaning/reason they chosen those in particular?

ohhh !! One of my friends just asked me this !! (copies and pastes)

Lock -  Eli (ee · lai)

Lock’s parents named him Eli because they were stealth hunters in the deep forests that stalked wild game, often by using trees to climb or hide. They valued things like swiftness, accuracy, and skill. Eli (meaning “elevated” or “high”) was a favorable name because, if one has the higher ground during a fight or hunt, they are at a favorable advantage. Fittingly, Lock has a natural tendency to climb to high perches—trees, roofs, anything elevated that helps him feel safe, hidden, and like he has the upper hand. He lives up to his name.

Shock - Amaranth; also called Amara or Amy by coven (a · mur · anth)

Shock’s coven bestowed her the most prosperous name they could think of. As witches, her coven saw the immense value in herbs and flowers as they were able to make powerful potions from them. They named her Amaranth (meaning “the unfading flower”). They hoped, with such a powerful name, she would grow up strong and resilient. Additionally, the nicknames they occasionally shortened Amaranth to— Amara (“everlasting”) and Amy (“beloved”)—also expressed their hope that Shock would live a full life always knowing she was loved.

Barrel - Brayden (bray · den)

Barrel was named Brayden (meaning “broad" or "broad valley”) because it is a name that references the Earth. Since ghouls make their life by digging into the earth, burrowing into grave soil, descending into tombs and re-making small "valleys" of their own, they thought it was fitting for Barrel to have a sturdy name that connected him to the earth somehow. To dig a "broad valley" meant he would would prosper as a hearty, nourished ghoul.

[unatkozorobotok]

“Koalas are fucking horrible animals. They have one of the smallest brain to body ratios of any mammal, additionally - their brains are smooth. A brain is folded to increase the surface area for neurons. If you present a koala with leaves plucked from a branch, laid on a flat surface, the koala will not recognise it as food. They are too thick to adapt their feeding behaviour to cope with change. In a room full of potential food, they can literally starve to death. This is not the token of an animal that is winning at life. Speaking of stupidity and food, one of the likely reasons for their primitive brains is the fact that additionally to being poisonous, eucalyptus leaves (the only thing they eat) have almost no nutritional value. They can't afford the extra energy to think, they sleep more than 80% of their fucking lives. When they are awake all they do is eat, shit and occasionally scream like fucking satan. Because eucalyptus leaves hold such little nutritional value, koalas have to ferment the leaves in their guts for days on end. Unlike their brains, they have the largest hind gut to body ratio of any mammal. Many herbivorous mammals have adaptations to cope with harsh plant life taking its toll on their teeth, rodents for instance have teeth that never stop growing, some animals only have teeth on their lower jaw, grinding plant matter on bony plates in the tops of their mouths, others have enlarged molars that distribute the wear and break down plant matter more efficiently... Koalas are no exception, when their teeth erode down to nothing, they resolve the situation by starving to death, because they're fucking terrible animals. Being mammals, koalas raise their joeys on milk (admittedly, one of the lowest milk yields to body ratio... There's a trend here). When the young joey needs to transition from rich, nourishing substances like milk, to eucalyptus (a plant that seems to be making it abundantly clear that it doesn't want to be eaten), it finds it does not have the necessary gut flora to digest the leaves. To remedy this, the young joey begins nuzzling its mother's anus until she leaks a little diarrhoea (actually fecal pap, slightly less digested), which he then proceeds to slurp on. This partially digested plant matter gives him just what he needs to start developing his digestive system. Of course, he may not even have needed to bother nuzzling his mother. She may have been suffering from incontinence. Why? Because koalas are riddled with chlamydia. In some areas the infection rate is 80% or higher. This statistic isn't helped by the fact that one of the few other activities koalas will spend their precious energy on is rape. Despite being seasonal breeders, males seem to either not know or care, and will simply overpower a female regardless of whether she is ovulating. If she fights back, he may drag them both out of the tree, which brings us full circle back to the brain: Koalas have a higher than average quantity of cerebrospinal fluid in their brains. This is to protect their brains from injury... should they fall from a tree. An animal so thick it has its own little built in special ed helmet.”

[snapscube]

Anything you're especially proud to have accomplished this year before the new one rolls upon us?

TRUTHFULLY a lot of my accomplishments were relatively small compared to my ambitions but in the grand scheme of things add up to a lot of meaningful life improvements and successes i think. i dont know if there's like ONE BIG THING i'm especially proud of. a lot of the big stuff i WANTED to do got pretty delayed for one reason or another. but, as for small stuff:

i started an even SOMEWHAT regular exercise routine and have managed to hit the end of the year without dropping it completely, despite occasional slowdown

i got my name legally changed

though it was a bit of a bait-and-switch in terms of intentional production value, we DID technically put out an episode of SRTF this year. we even shadowdropped it, and it has received a ton of praise in spite of itself.

in terms of streams, i genuinely think this was the best year for stream quality and consistency i have ever had. with absolute banger playthroughs like Tears of the Kingdom, Spider-Man 2, Dragon Quest 8, Resident Evil 4, etc. i think i really raised the bar for myself.

and oh shit speaking of, i did my first marathon charity stream this year and raised over $10K for AHA

i made a lot of progress on my art!! made an honest effort to pick it back up and i genuinely think my work at the end of the year compared to where it was is a subtle but noticeable bump, though i did fall off a bit more than i intended.

and though i don't have MUCH to show for it right now tangibly, i have been working a lot in the back of my mind and in various documents on some Actual Fiction that i hope to be able to sink my teeth into more next year.

and yeah there's definitely a lot more small stuff in between! it's tough because i still feel so behind on a lot of stuff that i feel like should have been a lot higher priority for me, but if i'm giving myself credit it definitely puts into perspective just how Not Totally Washed i am when i start to list stuff out. which is nice to be able to do! everything in its time i suppose! im not starting 2024 with any "resolutions" or anything quite as high stakes per se but i do have a large list of goals im still gonna be working towards. i think the main thing i really want to nail down is prioritizing my time and energy towards the things that are gonna make the biggest impact on my own personal satisfaction so it becomes easier to feel like i wasn't just coasting for 12 months.