#sequence break [ooc]

[quiisquiliae]

Ok but honestly, the prisons in DA are pretty friggin nifty? The Ossuary? Wild. The one that was holding Corypheus in DA2 Legacy? Yo, wtf. Moment of appreciation yeah?

[kel-the-lucky-kitten]

🍿 - for the ask game?

well, obviously i have butter on my popcorn! and extra salt! y'know, why have popcorn if you're not gonna flavor it? and for colored popcorn, i've never encountered it, but it looks cool!

[mod is here to say that I've never seen colored popcorn either. aside from in plastic bags that you get from convenience stores.]

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆"Foreigner's God" - Geto Suguru

Synopsis: For money and power, Suguru would do a lot, but for a love he didn’t want? Somehow, he finds himself bending even the strongest of ideals. Five years ago he’d saved a monkey—not actually processing the estranged entanglement that would lead him to.

— word count: 10k 💀

— A/n: so i slightly re-did my old fic - "angel of small death and codeine scene", because it felt horrendous lol. the reader might a little ...ooc? if that is a thing? also, it may seem confusing so - the reader is daughter of suguru's loyal hitsman but that man is a horrendous father so...yes. it might be unclear so reader is 22+ and suguru is around 28-29.

— Warnings: smut!!MDNI!!Afab! Reader x Suguru; use of religious themes; minor death(S); power play; gore(straight up murder); sub-dom dynamics; degradation; humiliation; impact play (fem receiving); oral (m! And f! Receiving); reader is mostly referred to as a female; complicated storyline; mentions of blood; emotionally abusive father+family; reader is a hitsman; traditional marriage roles ig

The first bell.

The second bell.

Then the third.

Married. 

~5 years ago~

The words echoed in your head, over and over and over and over—it hurt. 

His hands were soft as they held yours, he led you slow, your father’s did.

The white veil that you’d spent hours to decide upon, the one you would never care about—it swept beside you, gasps escaping the lips of many as you walked out. And there, there your eyes met his.

Poised he stood, white hair slicked back—nothing like those superficial memories his Servants had sung to you about, nothing like the glimpses you’d caught of him. This man, the one on your altar—that was Suguru Geto.

Not the Geto-Sama you’d heard of, the ones who was a deity to all- a pretty hand fared upon those who sought him blindly; not the Curse user Geto, the fugitive you recognised him to be, the one you hated—no. 

None of that.

This was Suguru Geto—your husband to be.

You hadn’t assumed your wedding to be a fairytale—in all honesty, you hadn’t assumed anything at all. But the heart of the little girl in you wept, openly so, when the worn upon thin line of a supposed smile didn’t do so much as even cast a shadow upon you.  Not to be perceived wrong, however—Suguru certainly had grinned and smirked, laughed and tickled himself senseless—perhaps so to forget this ordeal—to forget you.

Eyes moist, a tear he did let go off—superficial it was, you knew it, but a saint Suguru Geto would be deemed the next day in the whispers of his followers, especially the ones who envied to be you.

Don’t get me wrong, congratulated by everyone—he did show joy, in some meaning of the word, just not the way you hoped—or even supposed for that matter. 

Yours was never meant to be that perfect wedding, not at the core of it—you knew that from day one of the sequenced wedding but then—just something, a little dream and heart crushed grudgingly when you realized it wouldn’t be your husband who cried the moment he set his eyes on his bride—it wouldn’t be you telling those cute stories about your wedding day.

It wouldn’t be you—it was normal you’d heard, for grooms to be overwhelmed in their weddings- the thought of spending a forever with his bride, the supposed memories flooding their mind—but it wouldn’t be for you. He stood there with hands behind him, eyes awaiting your presence still.

A smile he held—empty as you joined him—eyes were very telling your father had preached, never once had you found him to be wrong.

His hands felt cold as you held them—cold like the storm his warm hands had saved your family from, colder still somehow was his presence, then and now. And you realized, your heart — to what you had thought to be a void, trained so — breaking as you realized that the marriage was a cage to him as much as you. Neither happy—he wasn’t happy within your presence, or anyone else’s.

Pathetic. But again, did it truly matter?

The wedding had begun— officiated, soon your “I do”s would slip, the wedding couldn’t be stopped now, not ever.

And in that moment your eyes flickered to your own mother—she stood regal.

Embroidery she’d fought into you, cooking and baking, sewing a skill she’d made you own too—pity she couldn’t teach you controlling your emotions—pity you despised all that was your influence.

Your eyes managed to flicker onto him—saintly, your brain

mused—your heart couldn’t help but agree. And those saintly

features held an ugly heart you told yourself, solace to a lonesome mind.

“Suguru, do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect Y/N, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?”

When he took a moment to answer with a blank gaze, you could feel tiny pricks being sent straight to your heart. Just a mere glance at his stolid mien was enough for you to believe that he was going to call off the wedding and run away—mayhaps you wanted that, mayhaps, you didn’t.

What else could you expect?

He clearly didn’t want this, understandable was the fact. It wouldn’t surprise you if he took a step back and announced that he couldn’t go on in making an oath to offer the rest of his life with you. That he would rather get out of this hell hole and be somewhere else than to proclaim a love that was being forced out of him.

But it was his choosing, was it not? And mayhaps, yours.

The cult leader had chosen you, and in the process, you—him.

He’d watched you a while, days, you knew of his lingering gaze—respectful then, disgusting now.

“I do,” he professed, despite the inner turmoil that plagued his head.

You sighed—soft.

“Y/n, do you promise to love, honor and cherish and protect Suguru, forsaking all others, and holding only unto him forevermore?”

You remembered the day clearly—father had knocked once on your once—a new found privacy in your sheltered house was the first sign.

A wide smile—“He’s chosen you.”

Your heart sank.

He’d chosen you.

Your eyes were quick—a glance here and there and everywhere—the pause was heavy; you watched your father’s nod of encouragement—your mother’s sharp eyes—his daughters’ smile, innocent - his followers’ sip of champagne—your sister’s eyes were hazy; his best man’s tipsy.

You couldn’t say no—“I do,”

“Bride and Groom, you have heard the words of love and marriage, have exchanged your vows and made your promises, and celebrated your union with the giving and receiving of rings. It is at this time that I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the officiant declared, “you may now kiss the bride.”

Your eyes widened behind your veil- not your first- the breath hitched as Suguru removed your veil—crystal seemed his eyes, crystal clear was his distaste. He was tall—comical in fact—you tip toed slight, he leaned in a bit—the kiss was warm, chill, foreign. His hand rested upon your cheek, a stroke—a pull, brief.

Your eyes watched as he pulled away, a new smile on his lips—an actor he would have proven to be—or, as you knew, he was.

A million thoughts clouded you and him—known to only the two of you—marriage worked quick in that sense you supposed, your mother  and sister were perhaps right. But when all was said and done—the marriage was officiated.

And your eyes met then—a thought passed between you and your husband—stuck together—sincerely, fuck you.

The ride back ‘home’ was tedious, it burnt, it burnt all too much.

“Geto-Sama will prove to be amazing,” the driver spoke alone,  yet, all too soon—as he had been for the past anxious hours—time moved slow, slower than the gaze you didn’t dare hold against him.

A soft smile he held, serene as if -  “I’m sure he will be,”you mumbled back,  just as fake a smile you held too—husband and wife—equal footing, equal qualms at the truth you didn’t accept and lies you foretold.

‘Geto-sama’ this and a ‘Geto-sama’ that— the entire reception had been torturous, you hated it—hated the man they chose not to acknowledge—hated the murderer, hated him, your husband.

All to your liking though, the car finally came to a stop, at your residence—your new home.

-

“You may sleep here,” soft a voice, too cold a tone – however, compared to the gaze he held—it felt welcoming.

You nodded just as quietly, a good wife would never fight, they’d taught you—more important than ever for your life now depended upon so.

“Geto-Sama,” you hated the way it rolled off your tongue so smooth—meant to be, “where will you sleep?” Innocent enough a question and yet the scoff he passed under his breath was all well noticed by you.

“Not to worry you darling,” he smiled softly still, “I wouldn’t ever imagine sleeping with you,” and wrapped in his words lay the tone of condescension—hidden all so beautifully, a small round of hide-and-seek in itself. 

Lips pursed, you stared at him—“you can… drop the act, we’re alone,” the tone itself surprised you—the confidence all the more so, as you bore deep into his eyes, unwavering.

A brow cocked, he passed a smirk well of his own, “So the monkey is capable of thinking, hm? Where was this tongue all this while?”

“To call the future bearer of your children a monkey, your own wife - you should remember you are also a part of me now,” it was desperate really, bringing in the prospect of a future you never wanted for the sake of some respect.

A deep rumble emerged within his chest—chaos, “You think you’ll have such rights? What are you if not worth less than your father’s money?” Your face burnt at his words—hot, embarrassed, it was true.

“A reminder perhaps,” you spoke through clenched teeth—“you were the man who came begging to my father for-”

“-for money, not a whore to be passed around,” his words lay sharp, all so much so that the hilt of his words was enough to penetrate too mayhaps.

“Could have called yourself a celibate, Geto-Sama,”

his words sharp- yours blunt, impact lay the same with both—regret caused to the other.

“Are you so desperate that you are willing to fight to sleep with a strange man, all so alien to you?” There it lay, that constant lazy smile—the one he never shied to portray to his desperate followers—now, to you.

“A husband,” gritted teeth, you bared, “you are a husband now, my husband, accept the fate,” sharp inhale—sharper exhale, you simply despised him.

Annoyance hung loose in the air, an open wound to you both.

“The only fate,” he paused—ears ringing unto the sound of footsteps—his daughters’, “is the one where you’re no more but a mere shadow in my life, monkey,” disgust all so prevalent on a pretty face as his—pity, really.

“So be it,” you nodded, a lick of your lips and a deal on the tongue, “no more a legal wife am i to you,” 

“Be glad you could achieve that at all,” and just as quickly the somber mood had shifted to annoyance, it was back too—as the door clasped open, the twins rushing in to meet their new found mother.

Mother—oh just how hilarious the fate’s jokes lay.

A mother—a wife—a woman for his needs.

-

A week. 

A week spent in solitude, the white ceiling, a new friendship you’d found, the dark wood flooring your vice as you suffered.

Day in and day out—seconds ticked by, slowly churning out the hours and eyes that lay moist

forever remained so.

You despised it all. 

His expanse and his family, his charm and his style, his maids and his followers — his daughters, ah. 

Something, perhaps you didn’t hate, that belonged to Geto, did exist.

Innocent smiles, the kind you’d never worn—hefty laughter he provided them with, his pride and his joy—now yours too, mutual a partnership the marriage was.

“Y/n,” they’d murmured excitedly, Nanako had— Mimiko's shy glances and little smiles, just as endearing. 

A mother you’d become, how complicated. 

But fickle was your happiness, just there and often never at all.

Your heart raced, ears perked up at the voice of approaching footsteps—the daughter of Suguru Geto’s best hitman, a little too many tricks lay up your sleeves themselves. 

Quick, soft, padded—your servants.

Loud, racy and sudden? His daughters.

Soundless? Suguru.

Thoughts proven none but correct, Suguru did stand bearer of your observation—a frown as always on the beautiful face.

And you wondered just how prettier it could be, if only he were gagged and stuffed aside. 

“Get up, you have to move” words shuffled fast—frenzied, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

“Why?” Defiance, slight defiance in the form of annoyance presented to him you displayed, little impact but just enough—especially when he would let out a ragged sigh, holding himself back.

“Don't question me, now is not the time.” 

Your heart soared giddily at that too—“What? Your blind followers realized your reality?” 

Your words were sarcastic, the situation? Not so much.

A sharp gaze, piercing, bore into you.

Dead, at a finger’s flick if he wanted—but then again, he didn’t, he couldn’t.

So he did the next best thing that he’d realized in a week’s worth of time- the little smirk was wiped off quick as he kneeled close to you, so close.

“It is for your protection,” a whisper, all too serious, curious, you looked down at him - he was playing his cards right, giving you leverage.

You breathed in a sharp intake, protection? Whatever for?

Suguru Geto - a special grade, you stood as one of the finest hitmen too - what protection? 

And then in the flicker of a gaze you’d think and consider it all, his lies, his treachery - moving you was new, different. It meant shift of powers - it  meant he held the course of action - you simply couldn’t digest that, right?

“Get up,” he repeated.

“No.”

Your head turned to the right sharp, a swift slap he’d landed on your cheek—it didn’t hurt,

you’d faced worse after all—but oh how it hurt you.

Apathetic, he stared.

Blankly, you stared back.

A moment of silence, heavy.

“Are you really so imbecilic?”

Silence again—you wanted to rip his hair out—“Get up,”

“Why?”

His voice, almost panicked now, it was uncanny. 

You had seen, known Suguru Geto, even if from the periphery of your father’s existence, for at least a decade now. 

All smiles and polite words he’d been, all calculated and stiff - never….this.

A clench of his jaw and a brush of fingers through the hair—“Monkeys like you aren’t safe here, you do not understand the gravity of this.”

And somehow, it warmed your heart. 

“I can fight-”

“-yes and I am well aware of that, as well the skill passed down your lineage but now is the not the time to be difficult,”

Dumbly, you looked—“what is it? Some…” your mouth ran dry, “some attack?” 

An unamused chuckle he was quick to let go—“something of the sort,” he paused, face reigning back to all his seriousness—“the marriage was sure to develop tension, me and you…” a frown etched on his face, the way his face shifted through emotions at the reminder of his new life, “i am surprised it took an entire week for the disturbance,”

You sat there still, disturbance?

Many thoughts ran wild, his and yours.

You wanted to ask a many hundred questions - who, why, was it all so revolting to have an uprise against you?

“Don’t worry then-” he scoffed, still in front of you, on his knees, “wouldn’t want my pretty little wife to suffer,” his words felt fake, maybe they were.

You swallowed hard—“where to?”

“My chambers,” 

Your heart sunk and yet you felt a rush of serotonin.

~3 years ago~

“Y/n,” Nanako’s voice dragged, “c’mon we’ll be late!” The constant sound of typing annoyed you—squinting eyes stared at her from a distance.

“Remind me why such enthusiasm again?”

“Papa’s dealing with non-sorcerers today,”

Again-as he had been, always.

“Mama,” the word rang in your mind—Mimiko’s voice was soft in contrast — Mama, a certain ring to it, familiarized and yet so antagonized in your head.

You hummed in response simply—“Papa requests you to be there tonight…” her words trailed away, the convocation all too loud, the impact all so evident.

“Right…” you let your words hang open as well—he wanted you present, in day and light, flesh and sight—his wife to be shown off.

Every once a while, you were his proven lucky charm after all, his priestess.

-

Crowded, nauseating, full of idiots. 

You sat right beside your husband, high and aloft - dressed in a kimono, perhaps more dramatic than his clothes in such ceremonies - after all, you were the head-priestess.

You remembered the day well, when he’d announced you so.

A month within the marriage, the night after a group of rogues had attacked your car. 

He wasn't afraid - but infuriated, yes.

For you? You’d wondered, when he slept that night beside you - anger blanketed him, his form, and then you’d scoffed to yourself.

Of course, not.

It was all for the fact that they dared to attack what was his - dared to question him, his decisions.

A dagger rested at your side now, gift from no other than your Geto-Sama, two years ago—a

wedding gift.

You hated the fact that it was the best you could’ve managed to find.

Slow, the proceedings were, lazy his smirks as the likes of you begged. 

As the monkeys begged to him. 

“Headaches, nauseating? Hmm,” he smiled, pensive, reflective���“sounds to me like you’re troubled,” and just so, it amused you—to how dumb non-sorcerers truly were. 

Fickle-minded.

“Geto-Sama,” eyes squinted at the tone of the woman, a whimper—a common whore—begging for his touch in broad sunlight, for your husband’s touch.

Sure, you hated him—but oh how you hated the fact that he touched so many other women whilst being married to you.

And somehow, you always became the other woman.

“Yes darling?” He called back coolly, your blood boiled, he’d never called you that.

Only insults.

“I think…think you need to…” her words trailed away, a satisfied murmur erupting through the crowd—they remembered, remembered it well.

Engraved in the memory of most what you’d only caught the gist if, even as a rumour.

Suguru had fucked her—in front of them all. 

As treatment, as help.

In the name of all that was holy, all that was religious—he’d sworn it would help her—it made her addicted. One  drug to another, Suguru did nothing, he would do nothing today 

either perhaps.

Was this why he called you? 

To humiliate you such?

“Ah ah ah,” click on of his tongue, sharp—“hold yourself - is your goddess not present here for you to spout such non-sense?,”

Your heart burned. 

Goddess, their goddess—you were their goddess—his goddess.

Jaw clenched, you stared from the side, distaste evident upon you and her—adorable, he deemed it.

“She’s nothing-”

-silence, as quick as she’d begun to stare at you in disgust, just as quickly she retreated. 

Beyond livid he seemed, an amazing actor surely, never one to hear words against his precious wife, only he could dole it out - in his chambers.

An actor you hated before the marriage, an actor you continued to hate now.

A chuckle interrupted his thoughts and yours—“Geto…,” the investor—the one Suguru’d been trying to impress.

So was the reason you’d been called, ever since you’d been named his head-priestess, the devotee’s goddess, you served one faction. To bring in those who Suguru couldn’t buy with money.

A continuity of a deep rumble lay bared throughout the assembly — relevance all so long as Geto would decide.

“You act like she matters at all,” your stomachs dropped, he was right, was he not? 

But how dare he spoke of you - your blood boiled as your eyes fixated upon him.

“What is she? A hunter?” Another prolonged chuckle—electing those from beside you as well, your ears hurt from how hot they were. 

Hunter? You had been your father’s greatest possession, with skills that surpassed his own - you had trained all your life as a hitsman, and now brought down to what?

A laughing stock in your husband’s cult, in his sphere of lies.

“Just a trophy wife for you, isn’t she?” Unwantedly, even in moments such—of your disrespect, your eyes gazed onto him -at suguru, you hated yourself for these moments.

You hated the helplessness - you hated the need for him to take a stand for you.

And yet, Something about the thin smile he held every time you were disrespected reassured you, it wasn’t much—not an ounce of anger reflected upon his face, if he felt any, that is. 

You could feel the eyes of all, not the first time you’d been presented to the assembly, the first time the ruse you played was out.

“She’s my wife,” his voice was calm, “trophy or no is none of your business—she’s priced if anything—far more than you could ever afford, so think with that thick head of yours, at least once if you can manage, before you dare to look at her.”

Definite—his words were fast, surprising all the more.

The laughter halted, silence was all so deafening, “You’re defending that slut before me Geto?” Shaky, the man’s voice was held, anger evident—your grip tightened on your dagger.

Suguru’s smile only ever grew right beside you, “Do you want the honors darling?” You froze on the spot.

You carried that dagger everyday, you hadn’t killed a soul since the marriage three years ago, he’d demanded you stop this practice.

Face whipped to face him, he could see the way your face shone, your eyes hesitant—

“Talk to me you fucker! That bloody bitch and your cult won’t manage without me,” His words rang through the hall as he did so—your feet worked upon its own, you stood on your feet, crisp steps taken towards him.

“Just give me those whores beside you then, this one seems a bit used” he grinned further, directing his gaze onto Nanako and Mimiko and then back at you as you walked to him. 

A nodding smile from your husband being all that you need—swift you came, swift the man fell, mere seconds.

Bloods oozed, some rested upon your cheek just as much, three stab wounds—a drowning business deal of Geto—a sailing heart of yours and his smile.

The body twitched in dismay, adrenaline coursed through you—three years since you’d last killed something living, you couldn’t feel it. 

“Dismissed,” Suguru spoke aloud, basking in the shock of his followers and alike—however, yours too.

A hitman you were, sure, but so far you’d only done what your father directed.

Not Suguru, not up till now.

A sinner—his sinner.

Your body shook, the dagger fell quick, the moment the Hall was empty, just you and Suguru inside. 

“What did you have them prepare for lunch today?” Domestic as if, normal, if he’d name it—acting as if a murder did not just happen—the man’s body was still warm.

You’d done this plenty of times and yet this felt new, this felt like a shift.

And then, you were afraid he’d make this your purpose.

You offered none but a soft silence—“y/n?”

You hated him. 

You hated everything.

You hated how he pretended to be confused by your dilemma.

“Can you stop?” A hiss of a voice—“you just- I- stop!” 

Small an outburst, tears trickled the verge of falling apart.

“It’s fine,” he mused, “you can let go,”

“shut up,” you whispered fast- “don’t talk to me like that- like- like you’re superior. You just usedme- fuck- I- your cult…”

A step all too close he took, “come here,” softly he spoke—uncharacteristic, why now? 

After three years of an empty marriage—had he found your use? A skill he’d thrown away when undesired and now back to square 1?  

Not the first time you’d cried in front of him, many a confrontations had come and gone—many a times you’d thrown empty insults at him—many times he’d threatened you, all in vain.

So why now?

Empathetic all over a night? Couldn’t be.

Empathetic over your transition? Shouldn’t be.

Your heart paced, mind hurdled- hands held onto his form tightly as he did yours, body convulsing in his embrace, your kill lay astray, forgotten. 

“You’re fine,” he murmured against your head—all so close, first time.

 And a thought you couldn’t help but withdraw—is this how those women felt? When he held them so close to where you’d never been? 

“You did as you should’ve, a great priest - hitsman,”

Sheer shambles your heart lay in—you wanted to hate him, perhaps you did—most probably, not. 

“Why?” You whispered, pressed deep into his chest—an almost soothing hand upon your back rubbed, all so confused—both him and you.

“Figured you’d like it, but you seem confused now” he smiled, “you’re not a pawn y/n,” a fumbling kiss pressed on your forehead, the spot was now sacred.

This, you reminded yourself, is how he manipulated his followers.

You let it happen just as easily.

“I realise you feel used,” he muttered, “don’t. You have served me, my purpose.”

“Why all this? Why now?” you spoke against his form - “how long had you planned that man’s death?”

He looked down at you now, his eyes in yours, “ever since the first meeting he saw you in and asked of you,” you tried your best to figure how much of a lie lay in that statement, you weren’t sure.

An urge to pull away, an urge to ingrain yourself in him.

An empty marriage—all too loud your desires.

“You’re their goddess aren’t you? They needed all but a reminder,” He didn’t sound sweet anymore, it was all real—you knew so. 

-

Two months since your outburst, two months since he’d held you for the first time—two weeks, you’d suffered all so much.

Mentally, emotionally—physically. 

It was absurd, you’d spent three years still, yearning just some touch—but now more so than ever, you would perhaps beg for him. 

A shared bed you lay in, the heat in your heart was scorching—nothing close however to the desire between your legs. 

You craved him.

“You’ll accompany me tomorrow?” fingers clasped right around the book he was reading, he didn’t do so much as glance at you—yet, it was somehow endearing.

Gradual was the display from being ordered by his servants to show up when he pleases you to, to his daughters requesting you—to him, personally asking for it, it was bitter-sweet.

There were other small changes, changes he hadn’t bothered with for the first 2 years of your marriage - slided in now so easily - it hurt.

It was so easy for him to accept you, he chose not to.

But now that he did, it felt - you felt, just something.

You knew you were grasping on broken ends—but just something to the fallen was miraculous enough. 

You poised to think, “WAR AND PEACE”- Leo Tolstoy, hefty the handler, heftier its state, creased in the middle—whitening, pages browned years ago and a certain scent you couldn’t place.

Golden were the words still, it shone.

A simple “well?” From him broke your trance, a nod you passed.

Second time in the past fortnight, perplexed you lay by, watching moments tick by, unsure.

“Should I carry the dagger?” Same question as you’d asked last week—same reply awaited you, the same cunning smile, “Just your presence is enough,”

“23, 594 of you, you pay handsome sums all for this movement - for those in need…last week we were obliged with 3 million yen for our services and then 7 million, all by our business partners,” Suguru spoke in the same sweet tone of his—a mistake his words held. 

A tilt to the right, to correct him or no—you sucked in any air, perhaps your last.

“Not a simple feat it-”

“-25, 394 are present, and we didn’t get 10 million…it was 8- they didn’t pay all of it…” your voice was low, had the crowd been that of a murmuring one, it would have gone unheard—not from him perhaps, but in general. 

Not a glance spared, just a single smirk, “Ah, of course.” A lick of his lips and a look downturned, “I apologise—how sweet of my wife to remind me and correct me,”

My wife - not priestess suddenly, no.

A reminder, not to anyone else but you.

Amusing how you still shivered at the thought of it.

The rest of his words were a blur, his tone was hollow right after the apology—the same as you’d heard when he was upset— not mad. 

Because you remembered well how Suguru was when he was mad - you’d seen it once and the consequences of that, you repented stil.

-

“Leave,” the words seemed final, a tear rolled down your eyes.

“Geto-Sama,” your father panted, pathetic—simply so, no denial  to it. 

“Please,” three days you’d been begging, three days that Geto Suguru had stripped you all of any and every sense of dignity, of some thought of self preservation.

A scoff you heard, heart shattering—as eyes gazed onto the sight of your crawling father- a hitched breath, Suguru’s eyes lay stuck on you. 

“The debt,” Suguru mused quietly, “you want it forgiven?”

Your father nodded at his feet—broken sobs your mother flushed, sister’s nimble fingers upon yours—you hated Geto Suguru.

Perhaps that was exactly why you found yourself such.

Hating his woes, his breaths and his ideology—perhaps because you say it all lay a lie - the man was not forgiving, no, quite the opposite. 

Perhaps you hated him for the humiliation he granted that day, 6 years ago. 

“You’re nothing but a monkey, you know that,” Suguru mused simply, “But you are one of my best,” a hum he passed to second himself. 

Which was why this treatment seemed worse than it would have. Your father had served him so long, always there, everyday - by his side - the dirty work all carried out.

So what if a small debt remained unpaid? It could be forgotten - but no, Suguru Geto, as you stared at him while your father was stripped of his respect in that assembly hall, was no less a beast and beasts barely showed mercy.

Eyes, purple - sharp - as they bore into yours—“What’s your name?”

Quick, you almost didn’t catch his words, “y/n,” your father weakly muttered before letting out a pained cry—result of none but a kick from Suguru.

“I was talking to her,” a lazy smirk he adorned, “you’ve trained?” He inquired, a nod you passed.

“Skilled?” And that you were, having served so many over the years—skilled you simply were. 

“You can have her,” your father’s words lay rushed—heart seizing up deep. 

He couldn’t- wouldn’t- your mother wouldn’t.

You eyes suddenly dropped to his form - somehow now, it didn’t feel so bad that he lay there.

“Virgin?” 

“We can offer a fine dowry lord, for that issue,” groans, his—gasps, yours—“You'll be doing us a favour, in fact two.”

The  man’s face flits curiously between the two of you. You wonder if he can see the embarrassed tears threatening the corners of your eyes, the set of your lips, the way your fingers are clenching and shaking.

Your heart raced, face flushed—your parents eyes’, your sister’s, all trained upon you.

What a pity—a shake of your head, Suguru’s smirk widened as he knelt onto your level.

“Whoever would marry a used whore hm?” It was the exact smooth voice that you hated—the exact low grumble you feared.

“Fuck off,” the words were quick to slip out—perhaps, not appropriate but you regretted not a single moment.

Not your mother’s gasps or your father’s tremble or Suguru and his furrowed brows. 

“You’re talking to a god,” he whispered—

“I won’t worship a fraud.”

 Your reply was defiant—the situation was bared.

A made up god among men and a woman who would never worship him—and hence came about the dilemma when the god simply found his religion in the woman.

“Interesting,” he’d hummed then, the same smile that he wore then in the assembly, three years after your marriage.

A padded thumb reached into your cheek—wiping your tears away roughly—“I think you’ll be just as useful as your father,” he grinned, and something told you he’d use you in ways more than just a hitsman.

“You’ll be a better pet, right?”

Before you could gasp, before you could cry—before any sense of grief had caught you, fate had tied its strings with a man you deemed a monster—and the monster to his angel. 

-

The assembly took a good while to finish, 2 hours you sat, anticipating everything. 

It clicked very quickly that  you’d upset him by speaking over - by trying to correct him - something he never appreciated.

Something told you Suguru wouldn’t go tough on you—usually, he’d have someone humiliated to no extent but…you were his better half—not you, right? 

“Dismissed,” he muttered as always, you couldn’t help the squirming anymore.

The last two hours you’d suffered, the wetness in you edging onto itself at the worst time possible—every time he’d make eye contact, every time he’d glare. 

“Not you,” your heart dropped, you stood as a deer in  headlight then — just about to step out of the room as everyone else had.

“Come here,”

You swallowed hard—“I- I am sorry my lord I didn’t-”

“I didn’t ask you to talk monkey,” a slight pang to the heart—two months of overthinking was all down the drain, it didn’t mean anything perhaps.

Slowly, you trudged over, near to his feet—as close as he’d let you for the last time.

Cold eyes met you, blank a face and hair brushed open—“kneel,” he simply commanded, most days you’d have fought back- earned yourself a reprimand but not that day. 

What you had was enough already. 

From your position, you stared up at him—lips parted as small breaths you let out.

A moment of silence while you watched him take off the yukata robes, slender a form inside—the one you’d watched simply all too many times.

“You think you’re smart hm?” Your body shook, blame put on the coldness, you let yourself shiver—passing him a shake of the head.

“Geto-Sama I-”

“-is it that difficult an instruction?” Sharp a voice, it pierced through you, “don’t talk unless I fucking tell you to.” 

A frenzied nod, any denial to be passed onto him leaving your body as you gazed upon him, ethereal—and maybe, just maybe, the fraud of a god you hated was not all so bad to adore.

 “Thought you looked cute correcting me, hm?” Ever so serene a voice, one couldn’t almost differentiate whether he truly was upset or not. 

Another shake of your head, another tug at his lips.

“No?” Squinted eyes stared at you, “then attention? You wanted attention?” Your ears felt hot, maybe you did. 

“I wouldn’t be shocked honestly,” he paused, squatting down to your level, “your father did offer me a whore,” bottom lip clasped between your teeth, you dared not to look up at him—afraid simply of the hot tears spilling. 

“What is it, hm?” A large hand raised to flick the hair of your forehead—“Jealous, are we?” 

Clenched jaw, you stared at the ground—audacious he was to even question it—“but that shouldn’t be it right? A legal marriage is what you promised eh?” 

Too smug his voice lay, you hated him. 

He used all your cards against you so easily.

His hand rested at your cheek, hot to the touch—searing cold to the testament—“what was it then? An attention seeker? Or a whore?”

A ragged breath you let out—“You think it’s hilarious?”  Your eyes stared down into his, “to make a fool out of me?”

The hurt in your voice was no less than prevalent, it echoed still.

“I - would never…” you couldn’t understand where or how this sheepish nature struck you, you clenched your jaw at the mere realisation, “but talking of making fools…You fuck women left and right like it’s nobody’s business-”

“-oh it is about that hm?” A short chuckle he passed, euphoric to the ear, “you are a jealous bitch after all,”

“Cut it out Suguru,” 

His brows raised too, and internally—yours, at the courage of calling him such, “You don’t respect me but at least respect the marriage,”

“With a monkey?” 

It angered you as to how deep just a couple of his words could cut—‘a monkey’ you’d never be his equal.

“Yes, with a monkey—with your wife—with the woman your daughters seek a mother in,” quick you spoke—desperate to get it all out—“The woman you’ve simply used for business and now, a murder,”

Another short laugh.

“And now it’s about that is it?” 

Your blood boiled—to see him treating it all so insignificantly, “you made me-”

“-made you kill him? You killed a monkey darling, an animal of incoherent thinking. You should be glad. If anything I did you favors by granting you the opportunity to regain your skills, which are impeccable if I may - as is, it really isn’t the first time is it? You’ve killed before - this time, just an animal,”

A tug here, a tug there— your heart was torn at his words. 

“Further, you liked it—you like everything I do,”

A desperate ‘no’ spilled off your lips—meaningless.

Maybe you did like it—maybe you did like the way he took you away from that monster of a father, maybe you did like the way he isolated you, gave you all to hone your skills and what not, maybe you did like the little shows of affection because you were starved.

Maybe you were simply naive.

A series of clicking sounds of his tongue entered your ears—“you create ruckus over such thing,  hm, darling?” He got up again, “calls for a punishment doesn’t it?”

A final plea you passed—broken.

“Suguru please,” shaky, “I just- you can’t fuck women like that, the servants spread rumours and- and- its all so-”

“Strip and get on all fours,” lower an octave, his voice was serious, you bit your lips and complied, whatever else was there to do.

No other choice- you wanted it maybe.

His touch, even if punishing, he would embrace right after, right?

Slow, your fingers moved to take off all that was left of your decency—not the first time that you’d stripped for a man, hell, even geto had in these two and a half years of marriage seen you naked– but the first time you felt the lingering gaze. 

All down to the matching set of lingerie that he’d gifted you—every once in a while as he did, a sought compensation for his actions mayhaps, it did make you daydream anyways.

“Faster lest you wish to lengthen your punishment?” A quick shake of your head, your face felt hot, fingers twisted into the waistband of your panties —silk and lacy, almost As if innocent—as you slowly pulled them your lower half, feet tugging them off.

Your bra was forced away the same, shame enveloped you—not strong enough for all of you stood exposed, a cry of mercy to the god all in vain—for all too apparent,since  your supposed god was a fraud. 

A step taken slow towards Suguru, you were interrupted with a cough—“You’re a what, y/n?” 

Mind blank, you stared dumbly—and exasperated sigh he let out until you finally responded, “A monkey,” 

A nod of encouragement, he smirked, “and monkeys don’t walk right?”

Heights of your shame were peaking with every second passed, no other option to substitute, you nodded back—down on all fours as you crawled over to him.

The carpet was coarse underneath your knees, it hurt—not more so than your mind.

“Already so pliant sweetheart,” too giddy a voice, you wanted to punch him—but perhaps this was far better than what that would entail. 

You reached over to him shortly, “only had you been all so quiet from the very beginning…but oh how does it matter now,” a grin sounded to your ears—you wanted to cry. 

“All so naked,” he was walking about you now—all so exposed you stood, “so vulnerable—is this what you wanted?”

Your ears burned.

“Jealous of the women I fuck in front of my followers, right? Would you want to be fucked the same? I could summon them now—” another short chuckle, “their god with their goddess.”

You swallowed hard, lips licked as you awaited—unsure of what he could do.

“Tell me, does the thought make you wet?” 

“No,” lies—you knew it, and you hated yourself at that. 

A hum sincere, was all he passed—“alright then. Since you do love running your mouth all so much, your tongue and hands—”

Your ears ringed as the sight of the crowd that was typically present here flashed in your head—“25 strokes.”

Eyes wide you stared at the ground.

A silence awaited his words and he sighed loudly.

“Say yes or does my whore want more?” 

Another silence—soon he was right ahead of you—a sharp slap soon adding to the sting on your face.

Tears took no time, resting at the verge—you stared up at him, broken a voice meeting him, this was humiliating.

“I'm sorry,” you muttered softly—trembling at the look of it—not even sure what the apology was for. 

“Please i’ve never…” and somewhere along your blurred sight, his eyes softened all too little—“15, it's merely a spanking.” He decided silently. 

You nodded, knowing the bargain had gone deep— lowering your head, unsure of the entirety. 

“Spread your legs, arch your back” he murmured, you winced slightly as you did so—the texture of the carpet felt rough—your predicament all the more.

You felt his hands then, all over your back, calloused, you realised - smooth, they were relaxing you.

You felt him knead the flesh of your ass, then your thighs, treading as far as the flesh of your inner thighs - you wanted to whine at the teasing. 

“Count and thank me after each,” and all before you could agree— smack! The first smack struck hard.

Your eyes widened and a sharp inhale—“One—thank you Geto-Sama,” he nodded in confinement, satisfied Mayhaps, to your words. 

His hand rested along the  roundness of your ass—squeezing it, feeling it around—another smack alternated on the other cheek—“Two! Thank you Geto-Sama,”

Another squeeze—another exhale, you could feel your wetness spread - shameful.

The third strike was on the same spot as before—a pink tint added already to your ass, he adored the way you felt in his hand—“Three— thank you Geto-sa-! Ah!” You bit hard onto your lip as in the midst of your count he landed another strike at the same spot and another.

“F-four and five! Thank you Geto-Sama,” a ‘good girl’ he murmured right after, and even such—humiliated to all accords, his praise did none but cause you to feel butterflies right there.

And just there you also hated how his slaps could provide you the pleasure you hadn’t been able to. 

The same cycle went on, remaining 9 spanks hit hard as before— a grab and squeeze offered in the midst of each, a smooth hand too - as he touched you everywhere - everywhere except where you wanted him most. 

“So fucking pretty,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss one of your reddened cheeks—warm to his lips as his other hand smacked onto the other cheek. 

“Spread your legs further,” and you did, afraid to upset him anymore. 

And all to your surprise, suddenly you felt a finger probe your pussy lips—beyond ashamed you could help the weak whimper and desperate cry from escaping.

“Tch tch tch,” another sharp smack on your ass, “So wet? From a spanking?” 

Another whimper as your head only ever lowered in response—“or was it thought of getting off in public, huh?” You could feel his tough hands tease you, he wouldn’t enter, no—just tease your slit for the hell of it. 

“So pathetically turned on f’me,” he groaned—face up right against your gaping hole, inhaling sharply and taking in your scent.

“N-no,” you protested, halted only by another mean slap on your ass—“Don’t lie to the man you worship,” another nod, he’d already broken you. 

The pretend disappointment was sheerly evident in his voice—his expressions, “Well I cannot really move further until you’re punished thoroughly darling,” his words sounded almost calming, even when you knew they were all so not.

The tip of his fingers were slow, slowly gliding across your glistening pussy—your inner thigh—squelch! 

Eyes wide, a gasp erupted from your mouth as his large palm landed flat against your folds.

“I don’t think it’s your fault however, it’s her issue isn’t it?” Words so sweet, you only ever could think of succumbing to him—finally passing a weak nod.

“Ah ha,” he smiled to himself—impressed perhaps—“That’s a smart girl, now how many do you think are appropriate for her hm?” As he spoke, his fingers wouldn’t be called shy in the way they inspected you—gathering your slick from your hole, never entering enough to please, and leading it up to your asshole—dirty.

A sense of dread coursed through you, involuntarily you tried to turn around to beg him not to—another sharp slap, a sob from you.

“5?” Your voice was soft—and somehow, even in his moments of pure power Suguru couldn’t help but want to be kind to you.

And this time, he hated it. 

“5 it is,” he murmured, pressing his fingers upright to your pussy lips—“Count, no need to thank this time,”

Slowly his hands already your thighs further apart—shame no more a blanket, you could only moan at the shy touches to your core.

His hands stroked your inner thighs slowly—easing you out, you knew the trick of course, and “sh-it,” you spoke as his hand Landed on your pussy.

“One,” you called out meekly, and unlike the slaps he used to redden your ass, these weren’t all so pleasurable. 

Without a word he landed another—your body lurched forward just the slightest—“Two!” Your voice trembled at his touch, especially in the way he dragged his fingers all so close to your clit and then landed the third spank.

“You’re taking it so good sweetheart,” a mess, a sincere mess is all you were—breaking apart at his touch and words- all so unsure of how you felt. 

The last two Spanks were a blur, broken sobs eliciting your throat at them too as finally Suguru caressed your hips— held it soft, smothered it with slight kisses—as if he cared. 

He graciously didn’t mention the way his fingers were so covered in slick, didn’t mention how he wasted not a single second before licking each one clean - not wanting to let go a single drop. He also didn’t mention the way you gasped as he pressed his lips to your pussy - your folds, kissing them so softly you shuddered.

“Think you deserve a reward now, monkey?” A whine escaped you at the reference to the animal he deemed everyone else as—and yet another “Yes please,”

You knew better than to hope he’d have pleased you but all how it went, you could help the slight disappointment in you when he sat across you—spreading his legs.

An amused chuckle he let out at your expressions—“You really didn’t think I’d touch a used up pussy as yours eh?” 

He would—oh how he desperately wanted to—your eyes remained down cast in your obliviousness.

“C’mere be a good slut and get me off,” hesitant was the way you crawled over to him nestling yourself  between his legs—hesitant, yes but eager all the more.

And just the same his other followers felt engulfed by the need to please him.

Fingers fumbled with his belt for a second before a raised brow from him stopped you—“did I tell you to take it off?”

Your breath hitched- confused you gazed up to meet an annoyed expression, “Do only as much as you’re told to, don’t true that pretty mind of yours.” 

All the encouragement you needed as you slowly raised your face up to his crotch—“Go on,” he murmured, placing his hand at the back of your head—and just so you found your face pressed hard against his crotch, taking in the musky smell— your eyes watered with the pressure he held you with, your pussy grew wetter with the avoidance he lay. 

Soft whines you let out against the thin fabric of his underpants as your fingers gripped onto his toned thighs. 

You could feel the thick outline of his dick—not that you lay experienced much but that would certainly be big as it went.

His hand stroked your hair softly and pulled you away too—“pull them down,” he ordered and fervently your fingers pulled the waist of the only fabric covering him down—his hardened dick spring out at once.

You fought all urges to touch it at once—looking right into his eyes, awaiting any command. 

“Good girl,” he groaned as he shifted his hips to angle himself better—“Tongue out,” he muttered softly, staring at your face.

Adorable to him.

On your knees you sat, tongue out and mouth wide as you watched him drag the tip of his cock and slap it against your cheeks twice—demeaning you usually would’ve found it—now you craved it dearly.

Three slaps he lay on your tongue from his tip still—plap! Plap! Plap!— salty it tasted, his Precum.

“Take it all in,” none to your surprise, you were quick to try your best—you know you couldn’t, but to try was the way to go.

“Don’t suck just yet,” he commanded, as his dick lay inside the warmth of your mouth—you wanted to gag immediately, pull away.

“Keep it there,” he whispered, the large hand grabbed at the back of your throat, keeping you from pulling away.

Tears were quick to rush down your cheeks as you struggled to gag—the slight pull and an annoyed glare from him.

All too quick he pulled out of your mouth. 

“Don’t fucking pull away,” a warning, “cry all you want—fucking throw up from gagging I don’t care, but don’t pull away,” you nodded through your tears as you took a second to catch your breath.

“Again,” he said and again, you began.

It was tough to breathe, yes, and hard not to pull away but a look at his blissful face and you couldn’t help it—“start sucking, slow,” 

And that you did, tears dried as more came a afresh, you sucked slowly onto his tip and length—weak whimpers seemed guttural as you rocked your face back and forth onto his length.

“You know why- ha- ah,” he paused, moaning, as you teased him slight, “I let you do this?”

His eyes scanned your pretty face, sucking him all so good—trying your best to please him.

“So you remember that mine is the hand that feeds you,” just then his hands balled up your hair into a fist, rough, he pulled you.

“So you- shit…Suckin’ me like the slut you are doll?” Broken gasps he let out as well as he pushed his length down your throat.

As much as you hated him having the reigns, to see him lose composure was a beautiful process. 

“That feels so fucking good — ah-! ah — I'm not pleased with you fuck j-just can't believe how good it feels to — fuck — ahhhuh — yeah that's a perfect little slut, just take  your god’s cock like you're meant to."

You couldn’t see from down there, his eyes rolling back but you knew it was tough for him to sit still—god how you loved it. 

“Listen darling,” he began yet again—his fist was quick to pull your face away from his cock, all to yours and his displeasure.

He held you by the hair—a string of spit connecting your lips to his cock hung loosely.

“Always fucking remember that you’re the one begging to be fed by me—not the other fucking way around,” you wanted to nod but all that let out was small whines - no longer caring about feeding his ego.

The cards were dealt perfectly - you  just had to play them right.

“Geto-Sama, please,” you cried, “pleasepleaseplease let me- fuck- let me help. Want you to- to mark me? Please, will you?”

Suguru fought hard to suppress the moan he wanted out—he hated that he loved seeing you this way—he hated how he wanted to see you such everyday. 

He hated how for the past almost three years he’d wanted this, how he wanted to loved you. 

Oh how he loved being so silly.

And just as that his length was shoved deep into your mouth again—and internal conflict in his mind as he face fucked you —he just wanted you carnally and you, him.

Not long did it take before you knew he was close. 

“Stay right there, fuck — oh my god I'm close. I'm so fucking close. Gonna fill up that mouth, stuff it so good not a drop spills out.”

And at that, without another word he came inside—a warm gush in your mouth as you struggled to keep it all in—to please him—hot and sticky as he slowly pulled out of your mouth.

“So pretty,” he murmured as his fingers tapped your cheek—hinting at you to swallow it all.

-

Suguru watched as your tired body panted and lay still on his form—head resting against his thigh.

A soft hand brushed through your hair, a gentle smile as he wrapped the Yakuta around your naked body.

In hindsight, maybe he would regret it—but in the present of this entirely, he loved it.

He loved you.

Two months, suguru’s heart had churned—perhaps more than yours—to have you lay against him for the past two years was no issue, not until he knew your heart was opening up to him.

And something in him fought him to have you now that, that was a bad idea.

He realized now that, that something was all too stupid a thought—especially when he could now carry your body softly, pressed up against his chest as he Carried you to the shared chambers, his chambers. 

Oh how he loved you being his - without complaint now.

A monkey—his mind called out, the woman I will love, his heart snapped back.

It had to be a promise - it didn’t flow out so easy, that love - as compared to his disdain for non-sorcerers, his disdain for your disgusting father even more.

He hated how he saw profit within you he hated how his heart sought a shrine within too, he wanted you but only if you wanted him.

It was confusing, to him and you and everyone around—that he was all so enamored by you—nothing more of than the daughter of his hitsman you were, skilled to fill that spot yourself, but it wouldn’t add up.

He couldn’t possibly have you work so much - but then, he just didn’t know how else to make you happy.

And even that, sadly only made you breakdown further.

But now, as he’d look at the serene expression on your face as you slept -everything senseless would fall back—as he fell in love a little more when your fingers clasped onto his when he was  pulling away. 

~now~

Day and night.

Slowly they passed.

The first year, then the second and then third—all the way to five years and there you sat, right beside him, regal.

Don’t get me wrong, you perhaps still hate him and he despises you too—but it is in the certain way, that every third night you’re clamping down on his form and he holds you softly right after—“I love you” muttered by neither. 

-

He wasn’t sure on to why it was the way it was. 

He hated monkeys, you were one—so equally, he must also hate you—and yet, his heart ached the day your father thrust your hand into his.

He’d seen you before that day still, running about, aloof—you enjoyed your craft—he’d enjoyed seeing you do so. Marriage to him was simply a barrier to your skills—he knew that, and yet not being married to him was a barrier to mayhaps a comfortable life.

Never before Had Suguru pitied monkeys such—and yet, to see the tears roll down your eyes, he felt captivated.

In the way the silence of his halls was dimmed when his daughters would call for you—in the way you unnecessarily commanded his house—as if you held that power.

But then, mostly you did.

In the way you held pillows all too close to yourself to feel some warmth—in the way you used the pillows as a means of a boundary between the two.

In the way you forced yourself to hate him, in the way you whimpered against his touch.

Everything.

And anything. 

All he knew deep down was he wanted you happy, with him and often, without him. 

-

“Do you know this man?” The words rolled off his tongue smooth, you stared intently at the man bowing at your feet.

“No,” words were often simple lies when you stood beside him in that assembly, the man, once referred to as your father, inhaled sharp at your words.

Suguru’s smirk only widened—your mother and sister long gone perhaps, you didn’t know, you didn’t care.

Suguru never let you care.

“He’s committed a crime,” Suguru motioned to the crowd awaiting—“A dire crime,” his eyes now trained upon you—“And as always, our goddess here will help us get rid of it, yes?”

Not the first time you’d been asked—three  years ago, the first time you’d killed in that assembly, you’d committed and since then, that’s how Suguru used you - made his promises of love to you.

The best hitsman he had, his prized one.

His hand wound around you softly, a creep to your abdomen—“wanna play a game?” 

The blood inside you rushed—it didn’t matter.

None of it.

You’d killed plenty of monkeys now - under his command, your morality had shifted.

What had seemed criminal then…now just a command, now just a shrug.

Suguru adored you simply as you did and you did too—but today was different.

Today, stood in front of you, a true criminal. 

Blood of monkeys never bothered you—you were their deity, Suguru had reminded you every time you cried, you told him of your dilemma—they were honored to die at your hands, he’d remind you.

In the 5 years, things had changed drastically indeed - Suguru was still a fraud, you no longer cared, you were still a monkey, he no longer cared.

Especially not when he held you at night - reminding you that he did love you, sometimes through whispered words that made you giggle, and sometimes through undulating sex - something both of you had sought undesirable in the beginning.

-

The wood that surrounded you was thick—beautiful really, especially for a game of hide-and-seek. 

A shove he passed to your father, rough—“Run,” he ordered, dark eyes softening as they landed upon you.

“Kill him in 2 hours and I’ll let you take over tonight,” a smile sketched onto your lips—“and if not…” a similar smile etched onto his. 

And then this was all, a man so irrelevant as your father, he ran as you toyed with him, brought down to a reward from Suguru for you.

-

“Suguru?” you often called out now, pressed to his side - a hum he’d pass - annoyed slightly, you talked much now, often when he tried to sleep.

You don’t ask him silly things now - you used to when the new shift had come - when he began holding you, when he’d begun showing care - “do you love me now?” was one of the first few ones.

You’d laid in his side - another first, he’d scoffed momentarily, “you think i would feed you soup if i didn’t?”

You’d giggled then, his heart melted as he held out another spoonful, “maybe you just want your hitsman all healthy and fine, since i’m such huge entertainment, before and after..”

He laughed along then, slight concern when your laugh turned to a cough - a huge way you’d come together, “shut up and heal,”

“Answer me,” you pressed, another shift was your tone - no longer subdued when nervous, often times teasing and sarcastic - he loved it.

“I do love you,” he’d mumbled for the first time - you’d only giggled, “i knew it.”

You had found, you loved proving yourself right to him, regardless of much he did hate being corrected and proven wrong.

And he loved it too.

(this is...not smn i'm sure of, it's just how their sex dynamics are now lol)

Another hunt took place - some woman who’d promised him thousands of money and then tried sabotaging his business - she had been quick, a good hunt indeed.

But now you lay all spent yourself.

Legs sprawled beside his head—your fingers clutched hard onto the sheet beneath.

“Suguru,” your voice drew out—a whine, “Please…” you cried out softly as his tongue lapped onto your clit.

“Please what darling?” A sharp slap landed on your inner thigh—another whine.

“I was just 7 minutes late,” your dirtied clothes lay away forgotten—the neat white towels he’d used to wipe the blood off of you—used to cleanse and purify you again lay just beside his head as you tugged on hair harshly.

A soft giggle he let out—“7 minutes too late doll- you knew the punishment right? Let me edge you thrice more now, be a good pet.”

And another giggle he passed, eliciting a sharp cry of his name when he pressed his tongue flat on your clit.

And Suguru loved this, so Did you.

Your god and his goddess.

All of this work is original and entirely my own please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[feroluce]

Oh my gosh the way the Pop-Up Shop event ended and what it hinted at that's going on rn, and what it might imply about what's in store for the next time we see Sampo, I'm so excited AAAAAAA

Because it seems it really IS our Sampo, and whereas before I was absolutely delighted by the thought that he was possibly getting fucked with by some outside influence, and that was why he was saying such strange things... There's nothing quite like that going on here. There's no memetic virus messing with his head. There's no imposter, no possession, no nothing.

Just Sampo, and the ominous, all-consuming dread that hangs over his head like a guillotine, as he willingly walks right into what he is sure is a trap. ♡

Because this event was weird right off the bat, yeah? Sampo invites us in on a business deal that won't make him any money? The hell???

And I was just waiting on pins and needles for it to make sense, and oh, I was not disappointed at all. Because I've got a nice meta post about it over here, but Sampo actually DOESN'T make a lot of money most of the time- but he does always get something out of his dealings. He works for favors and good will and networking, but never for nothing. And it was the same here!

Sampo didn't make any money with this little business venture because that wasn't what he needed from it. That was never his goal to begin with. He just needed something entertaining.

Sampo has the key to get into the tavern's basement where Sparkle has been keeping his mask for him, but he still needs to be let into the front door of the tavern itself. The fun stories he got from this event were his entry fee. He leaves at the end because he's probably already on his way to Epsilon, where the World's End Tavern should be.

So that explains part of what was so strange this event. It's the rest of his ooc tendencies that have me like foaming at the mouth though because AAAAAAAAAA

There's long been hints of...some? kind of strain between Sampo and the rest of the Masked Fools. Like it starts all the way back in Belobog's main quest with the big infamous fourth-wall breaking sequence, where Sampo talks some shit.

And it continues in the Aetherium Wars event, where we finally get the confirmation that Sampo is a Masked Fool and even get to see him interact with Giovanni, one of his brethren! And where Sampo talks more shit. He also leaves the trailblazer a warning against Sparkle, who they hadn't met yet, and probably the Masked Fools in general.

And for some strange reason, it seems to be popular fanon that Sampo like. Talks a lot of shit? Or is rude in general? Like I feel like I see a lot of jokes about if Hook says a cuss word, it was probably his fault. But Sampo is actually pretty polite with everyone. I think the only time we really see him be harsh is when he has to set some hard boundaries in the museum event. Otherwise, he conducts himself like a model friendly businessman. Like he IS super shady and slimy, but he's still polite about it. I'm pretty sure the only time he actually talks any shit, and so bluntly, is about the Masked Fools or Epsilon as a whole. He really seems to have some sort of beef with them.

There's also his hilarious relationship with Sparkle, which I'm including for consideration because we don't know how common people like her are in the Masked Fools, so she might represent how Sampo interacts with a lot of them. ...But I'm pretty sure Sampo's grudge with her runs deeper than that anyway jdksajfdkljas

She's so funny I hope she fucks with him more FJDKSJAKD

Anyway, the point is, Sampo doesn't seem to see eye-to-eye with a lot of the rest of Aha's followers. And it was never hinted at before the pop-up shop event, but now I'm wondering if it might be like. An actual dangerous sort of situation.

Because during those brief packaging sequences, you get some. Pretty wild text dropped on you. There was actually a really cool explanation for it by another user already! But basically, all of the phrases are more fourth-wall breakage. They're mostly in-game achievements...except for one.

"This must be a trap create"

We never get to see the rest of the phrase. Just "This must be a trap create."

That is the only one we don't have an explanation for yet, at least as far as I know.

AN EDIT: Thank you to @/kittaykattz for this one, because it looks like someone DID find the source of this line. Unfortunately, it only came up in my search after I looked for the full phrase. I couldn't find it on the wiki before orz And yet this somehow does NOT make it any less ominous ajfdklsjkl The full phrase is "This must be a trap created by a Masked Fool!" and it comes from another in-game achievement, "Boxes and Ladders." Which is really cool, because I had figured the last line must be something from Penacony, since it was the only area not represented so far. So in that way, it fits perfectly with the rest of the text. Now we have one achievement from every area of the game, which fits with the theme that Sampo has been following the Astral Express, the trailblazer specifically. It's the way that it doesn't fit that's the weird part though. Because the rest of the lines that come from in-game achievements are all titles; that's why they were so much easier to find. For some reason, Hoyo saw fit to single this one out. They didn't use a title. They specifically chose the line about falling into a trap set by a Masked Fool, a trap with seemingly no way out, where one's only choice is to take a leap of faith and pray to make it out ok in the end.

Love that. Absolutely love that. That's so fucking tasty, I will be daydreaming for days on end now about Sampo finding himself in a horrible situation with no way out where all he can do is make a desperate attempt and pray to whatever might listen (probably not Aha fjaksljdk) that he'll survive it WHEEEEEE

Because Sampo talks so strangely throughout the whole event, but it gets worse day by day, morose and morbid and dreading and sometimes even almost like he's warning the trailblazer against something about to happen.

I've already lovingly discussed it in an analysis about Sampo's name (alias included) but like. There certainly are some fun connections there. The Sampo of myth was smashed and lost to the sea. Poisson was flooded. Brueghel died suddenly and left a final painting of a storm at sea unfinished.

The Masked Fools are referred to with imagery of water and the sea. And frequently so.

And so I do wonder what Sampo knows, and what he's expecting to happen when he gets to that tavern at the end of the world. If maybe he thinks he's walking right into a trap, and is doing it willingly, doing it anyway, because, well.

Belobog is on the line.

And Sampo has already proven he seems so ready to do whatever it takes to protect it.

[elitesheepi]

It’s pretty sad that the Stormverine relationship in the comics just go…unaddressed. Like they’re dating in the 2013(I think) Storm run, they have some pages together showing their relationship. Cut to the next issue he’s dead due to him losing his healing factor, Storm has to be flown into space just to grieve without setting the world on fire, and then…. Nothing.

Assuming I got the order, Hunt for Wolverine: Mystery in Madripoor happens, and we get this cover:

But there’s more focus on Betsy/Psychlock and the only Wolverine relationship is the past one he had with Domino. Storm get a single panel sequence, no mention of their previous relationship, nothing. Hell she’s incapacitated for much of it along with Rogue but still wtf.

So then he’s brought back and then….nothing. Like no mention no, anything. Maybe it’s in an issue I haven’t read yet but the fact that their relationship just goes unacknowledged and forgotten is so sad to me. Like we get pockets chances of something so good for both of them, a break away from the status quo

And yeah, it’s marvel comics that just what happens, anytime a characters happy they reset the whole damn universe for one bs reason or another. (One More Day, you sonuvabitch, we ain’t forget) but they are capable of changing the status quo but just won’t. Rogue and Gambit were able to get married and stay married up until now, so it’s not impossible.

In that same breath, I’m not asking for them to get married and have kids and all that, I’m really not. Hell I’m not even exactly asking for them to restart their relationship just yet enough, though I really do want that. All I’m asking is for like some more acknowledgement that they did date and how that effected them.

It isn’t like they broke up, Logan died. Like died-died, could’ve stay dead dead. Storm eventually had to move on cause that’s just the nature of grief, but beforehand she was handling his unfinished business. That’s not breakup behavior, that’s “I’m a widow in mourning of my partner” behavior.

So X of Swords teased them again, and the Storm (2024) run has then full on have sex before she leaves again. Which yknow awesome and we finally get a hint of their previous relationship by her calling him her “old lover.” Which again, nice, but man salt in the wound with her saying she regrets her actions when yeah, ouch and why tho? They’ve been implied to have slept together in the past a few times so idk.

I’m rambling/ranting at this point, but all I’m trying to get at is, they’re a cute relationship but the lack of attention the x-office is giving them really bites. I want someone to just bite the bullet and commit to writing them. It can be done, and it can be done well without centering just Logan, sidelining Storm or making either of them OOC, but it really needs to start with just pointing out what they once were and starting from their. Idk man ⚡️

[lisa-grdjc]

NegaPosi Angler ep12 ramblings 🎣

(ofc it’s about takaaki again..what can i say. i love him so much.) i had always assumed that his little brother’s passing was due to his illness (hence why he was so adamant about hiro having to go to the hospital asap and stuff) but it’s so much worse and heartbreaking than i thought…

no wonder he hadn’t gone to visit his grave even once during those three years holy shit. i myself have a kid brother i care about a lot i can’t even fathom the immense guilt that must’ve been crushing him since… rewatching that scene from episode 10 right after hits different now i love inflicting pain upon myself

im placing takaaki breaking down in my top3 of things that caused me the most emotional anguish this year, and never before in my life have i been that desperate to reach out through my screen to hug and comfort a fictional character idc if i sound crazy i was literally whispering/yelling and begging for hiro to do something, anything. like, your friend is crying and looking like that right in front of you and you’re just. standing there, how. (tho i understand it now, this is hiro we’re talking abt, dude was a blubbering mess over a simple ‘thank you’ earlier and how he wasn’t used to saying alot of things and mayhaps it would’ve been ooc for him to physically comfort takaaki there. also he was pbly feeling awkward enough as it is and wanted to give him space but STILL. I WANTED THAT HUG. (fyi i am so writing a fic abt this later i could alr see it creating itself in my head while watching the scene like—)

i swear these VAs are so goated i can’t stress this enough—legit felt my heart twisting itself inside out hearing him sob im not strong enough for this

almost forgot to mention how frigging wholesome and funny the first half of the episode was; takaaki sulking and trying to give hiro the cold shoulder and failing miserably every time had me in stitches, like, c’mon. just admit it, dude you can’t even stay genuinely mad at him for more than two minutes straight you love him too much for that

this dumbass lmaooo (they are So cute)

even hiro finds it funny…

overall that first half was awesome as hell and the whole sequence of hiro catching his first big fish with takaaki’s help got me soooo happy and emotional i was so proud of him… he did it ;-;

also loooook it’s the lil girl and her mom from episode one,, she grew up🥹

and fuck, that ending… it got me crying real tears of joy,, i had a feeling we might get a timeskip and they absolutely delivered with it… ngl to me hiro started off as a okay-ish, almost annoying mc whom i didn’t think i’d even end up liking at the beginning, but here i am two months later weeping bc of his big, genuine grin as he reunites with his friends after years of medical treatment…

look at him!!! 2 years later and he’s all better now!! he gets to hang out with takaaki and the everymart gang and go fishing with them again!! this is everything i needed rly i couldn’t have asked for a more perfect and satisfying ending.. im gonna miss them all ofc but im so so happy rn

[night-raven-miscellany]

Yuna gave a dry chuckle as she carefully took the potion from Vern.

"Ah... Thanks, I guess? I... Really doubt I have any sort of crazy potential but... Well, evidently I overblotted so that must mean there's something there that wasn't there before, hahah... Hah... *Ahem*."

(✨figured I would drop an ask in the inbox this time and start a new thread if that's alright??)

When Yuna finally awoke in the infirmary, her first thought was 'panic'. After all, she had been in Ramshackle before, hadn't she? How did she wind up here?

She sat up, a bit too quickly, and after the sudden rush to her head, she began to look around in confusion.

"What... What happened? How the hell did I get here?"

She took a deep breath to try and take account of her surroundings. Many plants... That was normal, to be expected of the students who typically managed the infirmary.

She noted the odd coloration of her skin, as well. It seemed to have significantly died down, but it also answered at least one of her questions.

"Hello? Is there anyone around who might be able to give me a rundown or... Something?"

(-🦐Yuna, @night-raven-miscellany)

(Ooc// this works!! No worries)

*the crocus on the bedside table hops over to Yuna, checking to make sure the IV is still in place and the monitors are fine*

(It's okay! You were brought here, try to take it easy)

*hearing Yuna call out, Vern pauses his paperwork and hurries over. Seeing her awake, he gives her a relieved smile*

Hello~ I'm um.. glad to see you're umm.. awake. I don't believe we've been um... properly introduced, you may call me Vern.

I was umm.. concerned you'd be out longer... please don't be too alarmed, but um.. you overblotted.. how much do you recall? It's okay if it's not a lot

[festivating]

Is there anything specific that you see attrition gelphie doing after they get married? I just know they have a sweet little life and bask in each other’s love and are always laughing and ughhhhhh. There’s just something about older happy domestic gelphie that gets me going idk. They’re my happy place.

Also, sort of unrelated, but I love how you characterize elphaba in general but like. Towards the end of the story when she sort of… eases off herself a bit. She’s more carefree and silly and happy and at peace and just… excited! The way I was literally sobbing when she said her vows and talked about how she always thought she didn’t have a soul but now she chooses to believe she does because of glinda’s deep love and affection for her. Like wow you really did your big one. Anyways yay attrition gelphie yay happy gelphie Getting What They Deserve.

Let's see! They definitely have a sweet little life yesss they make each other laugh a lot <3 Also they're both pretty hands-on with the farm in different ways but it's good for them to have like. jobs and responsibilities that are important to them. It's enrichment <3

I still think Elphaba goes away for some periods to do her stuff because that's also important to her, but she spends most time at home. From time to time Glinda does join her on these trips to wherever they can lend a helping hand. And Elphie is always my wife this my wife that she is never normal about being married to Glinda. And Glinda is always like 🥰 when she hears Elphaba call her "my wife" when talking to other people.

Anyway empty nest syndrome kind of hits Glinda pretty hard which we sort of saw in the final chapter, but having Elphie around really helps her navigate that. Especially because Elphie is extra attentive whenever she notices Glinda being down. And you know what this really goes both ways because Elphie is not Always doing great, she still has to manage depression and PTSD and being disabled, which always brings complications in some way, but they know they can really lean on each other when they need to.

Also I like to think they Do take vacations and travel when they can. Visiting Liir at Shiz during some of his breaks, visiting Crope in the Emerald City or Nessa and Boq and Milla in Nest Hardings. Visiting whatever other friends they've made over the years. But also having little getaways to scenic places just the two of them. Endless honeymoons together <3 I wouldn't say they have an easy life, but it's definitely a kind one :D

And thank you so much for saying that about Elphie in the final stretch of the story! She was very fun to write and the whole process was very healing to me, but I often worried I was making her a little too OOC with all the. gestures. Happiness. But I'm really glad that she doesn't read that way :) Her admitting she has a soul was a loooooong time coming and it's perhaps my favorite bit of the entire wedding sequence

It was my pleasure to give gelphie the happy ending that they deserve!! Thank you for sending me this ask, anon <3

[ven0moir]

Why is Bychance not happening?

You mention (I think it was you, it was a bychance shipper anyway) that "Bylers were wrong about how Byler was going to go down so far", but see they weren't. They were right that Will is painfully in love with Mike. They were right that Byler have this special connection and this soft interactions, when one on one. They were right, I believe, that they love each other.

What they were wrong about is specific scenarios they made up about how it is going to happen. Because there are actually a million ways it COULD happen and make sense in itself.

You are doing the same thing. Could Will have a fling with a Latino "Tigers" jock and could his Tiger with a sombrero then be seen as a hint for that. - I mean, it can be written, I just wrote it, and I don't think it would go against any laws or the Duffer's core values. But it's highly likely not the case, because there could be so many other reasons for this Tiger and we likely don't know the real one yet as we weren't in the room.

Bychance smells like Creelclarke or what that ship is called.

hi anon! ty for this one, it gives me the chance to clarify some really important aspects of this.

first of all, im a byler through and through. i don't 'ship' bychance--i analyze it.

also, what you mentioned about the sombrero was posted in the early stages of the theory but it isn't what it hinges on--comparing bychance to creelarke kind of shows to me you might be unfamiliar with where the theory is at right now, so if you're curious to read about it here's my breakdown of it so far! of course, all subject to change and develop as time goes on. cypherheartnokey also has some very compelling posts about it, i def recommend checking out their blog.

and yes, thank you for bringing that up to let me expand on it--yes, bylers have gotten the emotional beat of byler right, but beyond just the 'how' byler will happen, it's the WHEN they've gotten wrong as well--re: them expecting byler to get together at the end of s4. and obviously none of us are MEANT to know exactly how it'll happen, but what im doing with bychance is opening the door to a different angle to observe the story from.

and let me tell you why i find value in that:

there seems to be a consensus within the byler community ( as far as i've seen ) that byler will happen in this order:

-- Mike breaks up with El -> Mike and Will having a fight about the painting and a) getting together, b) it being unresolved and them getting together as they fight the supernatural or after -> Mike having a Vecna induced vision/dream sequence at some point where it is revealed to the audience he's loved Will all along.

and whereas the truth might be somewhere here, ( & it likely is ) something has always felt off to me about this. it never fully clicked to me or felt right. something's missing. how are they going to recontextualize mileven without it feeling retconny, aka: exposition vs revelation? ESPECIALLY when we think about the TIMING and contradictions:

OOC, it makes sense for the painting ( & thus the Byler ) reveal to be saved for the end, just like how Will's painting was revealed in the penultimate episode.

IC, however, it makes 0 sense, with what we know about the timeline so far, for the painting arc to come up at the end. We can assume two things: Mike is 100% clueless about the painting lie and the lie will only come up once El and him talk about it. Which ... would need to be at the end for some reason. They COULD get away with saying that it just simply never came up. We'll see. The other option is, Mike knows Will lied and has been strategically waiting for the right moment to bring it up. I think I like this option better but it raises some questions--the GA cannot just be cold turkey'd into the reveal, there needs to be build up to it otherwise it risks coming across as Will just, once again, being a passive observer in his own love life. And whereas as a fan this frustrates me, we've also been told this IS his coming-of-age arc and we'll see him come into his own as a young man. that means agency. that means making mistakes as you figure yourself out ( which was already set in motion via the painting lie )

to make matters worse, the GA doesn't buy byler bc this is the only way they see Byler happening too and they HAVE said it feels fanservicey, forced, rushed, etc

and you're 100% right, there are a million ways things could go. but not all of them will feel on-theme even if they 'make sense', and chances are, the duffers have already left enough of a trail that we can somewhat piece together where they're going ( i mean, after all, they said in an interview that someone on reddit could probably piece together the UD lore, that's HUGE stuff--so what does that say about character arcs, which are inherently easier to piece together? )

bychance, if it were to occur in-show, wouldn't be filler or detour ( the duffers literally cannot afford it to be tbh ) it HAS to serve as a catalyst for Mike and a way for Will to reclaim his agency before getting with Mike.

in the end, we're still doing what bylers are doing: trying to make sense of the patterns and breadcrumbs we've picked up on!

i've also said this before, that i personally just want byler to pay off--as long as byler happens i'll be 100% happy.

i HAVE reservations about bychance of course ( the age gap between them which was recently brought to my attention, or the thought of chance being portrayed as this one-dimensional asshole, so on ) but i can't really ignore what i'm seeing rn and just hope the duffers treat that storyline, if it were to happen, with the care it deserves.

fingers crossed & once again ty for this amazing ask!

[zeravmeta]

Thoughts on RvB Restoration Finale

not really that long just my 2 cents

I wanna say I liked the movie because I did enjoy myself watching it, but honestly I'm very much gonna stick to the RvB17 open ended finale

Overall the movie was... ok? It wasn't unwatchably bad the way RvB Zero was but it also just made a lot of choices that I disagree with fundamentally both with the writing and the core themes of the series as a whole. I've had this take ever since RvB14 on the fanbase and the writers but this movie flat out says it:

The writers are fucking unable to let go of PFL and Chorus in a meaningful way.

For a series thats core message is about saying goodbye, they literally dont let that part of the show die. They are functionally unable to let go of the past peaks of the franchise and write something new. And I get it: RvB fundamentally cycles with its storytelling, but what was so refreshing to me about RvB14-17 was that it actually progressed itself Past those peaks of RvB10 and 11-13 (and honestly people REALLY dont appreciate the good in those later seasons). It felt like a natural (if wacky) progression, and it definitely wasnt perfect but it gave the extended cast more opportunities to shine in ways we didnt appreciate before

This movie just doesnt do that? Honestly the fact that they KILLED Sarge and Doc was so... disrespectful to me? Like not in the sense that it was as bad as how RvB Zero (fake) killed Tucker, but more like it felt like the writers killed them off because they were following a book titled "How To Write Story" and saw 'killing off characters is good writing'. Sarge got a dramatic send off that also didnt feel that impactful? And I did see it coming from the start but having Doc be Washs' guilt haunting him just left a bad taste in my mouth.

Its a really self contained story, a whole bunch of characters outside the main 3 reds and Caboose felt ooc, a good chunk of characters dont even show up (dude where was DONUT??? youre telling me he only has 5 seconds in Simmons' mind in a cheerleading costume?), it was composed of like 3-4 sets total, Carolina, Tex and 479er all just kind of Show Up to be badasses in the way The New Person would show up in an MCU movie...

Honestly watching this movie I kind of felt like it would have a twist ending. Like the credits would play and then itd zoom out to show the Reds and Blues post S17 in a movie theater watching this dramatic finale, because thats honestly what it felt like: The whole movie was a cheap facsimile of RvB as a whole. The fact that Trocadero wasn't allowed/signed on to make the music for this finale really does influence this movie, since they used a whole bunch of songs and osts that felt out of place (though I will admit Vale Deah softly playing as Grimmons said goodbye to each other did make me choke up a little)

Despite my negative review, I do still recommend watching it, since there was stuff I did like: Simmons in a leader role, Tex and the fun reveal during her fight with Tucker-Meta, Grif FINALLY getting to retire, Caboose as a whole was really well written, there IS good in this movie! And again it's not unwatchable bad, it just... kind of leaves a somber, sour taste in my mouth. This movie threw a whole bunch of stuff to the wall not to see what would stick but to break it all and leave for the insurance money. Just a "hey since we're sinking might as well make all these callbacks and break a bunch of stuff along the way."

Welp. Goodbye, RvB. At least this way I know that RT dies without riding your coattails any longer. And hey given that RvB technically has 3 endings (RvB17, Zero and RvB19) you can just take your pick on what you like best anyways. Quick edit no jutsu I forgor to mention there is the sequence at the beginning of the movie where it is implied RvB19 COULD also be one of the simulations in and of itself so. yeah you can in fact just take it as you will

[kel-the-lucky-kitten]

[I'm going to say thank you again to @lurantis1 for helping me out of a perfectionist rut.]

[luna-wing-cns274]

USER INTERFACE TERMINAL

OOC: Hi! I go by Cyan (they/them). This here's a Lancer RP blog. I can be pretty slow to respond, but I do try to keep an eye on things, and I love any interactions! Be serious, be goofy, I'm here for it, and I promise I don't bite. I habitually drop walls of text, fair warning.

Since these four are NHPs born into involuntary military service, things can get somewhat dark. Violence, death, themes of depersonalization, shackling/cycling, manipulation, coercion, and the horrors of war are all going to come up. That said, I try to tag carefully.

Below is a list of posts with some overarching narrative stuff going on. Never done an RP blog before this, and honestly I'm kind of disorganized, so there are a few plotlines which aren't fully resolved. Just winging it. This list will be updated as I go.

(Also, initially this pinned was partially IC as Garmr, but I ended up not particularly liking his intro. May rewrite and bring the bit back eventually)

Still going back through and applying tags, will list them here when I'm done.

Hachiko's Intro Post - old, old introductory post for the squad.

A Good Time - Hachi + Grey square off in a simulated aerial battle for fun, and to demonstrate for the Omninet.

Trouble on the Horizon - Hachi warns of Harrison and SSC forces shooting at each other over a contested world in the Diluvia system. Big plot point in my campaign, more dormant here.

War Talk - Correspondence between Hachi and P.XV Opossum, little bit of character lore + setup for upcoming conflicts

The Circe Deployment - Part 1 - Interlude - Part 2 - Part 3 - Right now, Part 3 remains unwritten due to burnout. Major plot event, this is where Luna is freed from the Constellar thanks to events which have been hinted at, but not shown.

P.XV "Opossum" Arc - Arrival - Medical Care - Chatting - Opossum and Luna Meet - These are all collabs with the creator of the Patchwork Mercenary Company! Directly following the events of the Circe deployment, Luna responds to a distress call from P.XV "Opossum" of the Patchwork Mercenary Company. Note that I used the term "legionspace" interchangeably with "simulated/virtual environment" here, which was me being very off on my lore. Two very different things. Only Legionspace sequence Luna's been in happened in Circe Part 2.

Grey Regarding Styx, Cycling, Albatross - Response to Argema Kuhnei's remarks on mission to recover Styx. Little bit of lore, thoughts on cycling.

Garmr Regarding Skyline - Response to CORSAIR's November, discussing mourning for an NHP gestalt.

Flying and Siblings - Luna describes themselves to Styx.

Ma'ii Accuses Signal - Ma'ii accuses Signal of attempting to manipulate Styx.

Overworked - Ma'ii tries to process huge quantities of intel from across the Omni, Garmr stages an intervention.

Hachiko on Avatars

INUGAMI Mk. I - Phone Scam - Mech Intro - Performance Test 01 - With Ma'ii's help, Hachiko acquires GMS mech templates and begins designing a Chomolungma-based chassis, the INUGAMI Mk. I, in case Luna were ever to be pressed into ground warfare.

Pack Bond - Luna accepts a pack bond with Styx, Ma'ii breaks down a little.

Grey on NHPs and the Omninet

The Arts of Cruelty - At Styx's request, Ma'ii provides a primer on Legionspace combat, and gives Styx a powerful weapon.

Styx on Being a Mother

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Building Bridges - Ma'ii introduces the concept of somatosensory simulation (SOMSIM) environments to Styx.

Styx's Visit - Ma'ii and Styx chat in Luna's SOMSIM environment.

Try to Fit In - Hachiko advises the newly-awakened OMA/Sunny to be wary of humans.

Lurker - Ma'ii decides to contact No Future.

Articulation - Hachi gives a rundown on the creation of SOMSIM environments.

Under the Guillotine - Hachi begins confronting the effects of SSC's abuses.

Bargain - Ma'ii reveals some of what happened on Circe.

Ma'ii Goes Hunting - Mnemovore - Aftermath - Sifting Through the Echoes - What Have I Done? - Ma'ii hunts down a figure from their past. This plotline has yet to fully resolve.

Raid on Demeter's Bounty - I'll Be in Touch - Styx's Escape - BAILOUT.cmf6/Railgun Dance - Acting alone, Ma'ii engages the pirate vessel Demeter's Bounty to extract Styx. Ma'ii suffers structure damage and is partially exposed to memetic basilisk, but they and Styx escape successfully.

Petrichor - Not really narrative. In her SOMSIM domain, Hachiko relaxes in the depths of a forest soaked with rainfall, trying out canine olfactory sense.

Spire and Garmr - Garmr asks the BTMC for a story, Spire obliges.

Taking A Goddamn Break

BTMC's Invitation - Ma'ii and Styx arrive on a neutral station, receive an invitation to meet from Black Torrent Mercenary Company.

Suplex Time - Getting up to absurdity on-station with BTMC and Styx.

Repairs and Conversation With No Future and Mud Wasps - Part 1 - Part 2 - the Mud Wasps greet Ma'ii and briefly take them in, providing repairs and supplies as a favor. Ma'ii expresses mistrust of Union and learns that SSC's treatment of Luna was not legal. Offers some somatosensory gifts to No Future in celebration of her having developed the ability to feel.

Hachi Introduces FENRISULFR-class NHPs

New Contract - Ma'ii negotiates a contract for Luna to work for Akhaan station, providing military aid and escort services across the system the station controls.

Marshall Hall (ongoing) - With Ma'ii absent, Grey, Garmr, and Hachi accept a job to track down and nonlethally subdue a flying cyborg named Marshall Hall. Things are more complicated than they seem.

[aquaburst3]

Jamil's dream wasn't as bad I thought. Which doesn't say much since the bar is literally in Hell at this point, but at least it's something...I guess. He doesn't pull a Sultan Jafar and just beat Kalim up. But it's still pretty dumb.

The dream is a complete role reversal. Kalim is the poor servant, who is waiting on him hand and foot, while Jamil is the rich kid. Jamil has his own school built honouring Jafar, where he's the school council president. After Jamil orders the dream!Kalim to make them a feast, things start to fall apart. Kalim and Jamil fist fight...for some reason. Jamil overblots and has a random villain monologue. He's defeated. Move on to the next dream. Where do I start?

This dream doesn't fit Jamil at all. Jamil isn't after power like Jafar. All he wants is to be free of the Asim's grasp and travel the world. What about that would fit...this? While I know the point is that Malleus doesn't understand what will actually make these guys happy, something like this would make Jamil snap out of it faster. He should know that something doesn't feel right. He would break out to join the others.

Plus, Jamil seems a little OOC as well. He seems much more Jafar-like, being pompous and overly indulgent asshole. Yes, those traits were there the whole time. That's why he wanted to have a feast and have everyone praise him was enough evidence of that. But my reading of that was that Jamil was so beaten down by a family of rich assholes that he wanted to kick back for once and be served for once, not that he has a secretly wants to be sultan himself and for everyone to worship him like a god! This is so off base that I genuinely wonder if Yana know her own characters, if Vil acting like a spoiled diva in the last one wasn't obvious enough of that.

What's with Malleus gifting Jamil a school in it? He's super smart and studious, but school isn't the be all end all of his existence, so it seems like a random conclusion for him to come to. Same goes for Kalim, if not more so.

Why do Kalim and Jamil randomly fist fight? Kalim punching Jamil should've happened at the end of Book 4. If this happened then, it would be a hundred percent justified. Jamil backstabbed Kalim and mind controlled him. Hell, I would even say that would be good writing, since it would be a fantastic set up and pay off. But now? It just seems random and like Kalim's resentful for that back then, which is in turn is OOC.

Mentioned this on my server and to one of my online friends, but why the hell is this arc so fucking long? This arc has been going on forever!

Why add all of these pointless dream sequences and flashbacks!? She could've made them a quick montage. Or, better yet, not added them at all and came up with something else. Especially since a lot of these are completely OOC, make no sense or both.

One of my mutuals mentioned that they thought that Lilia would be put to sleep so Malleus could keep him close and block everyone else out with thorns, so we have to work with everyone to get through them like Philip to stop him. Why couldn't it just be that? It would make the writing tighter and get to the fucking point much faster. More importantly, make much more sense. Instead we get a bunch of overlyindulgent trippy dream sequences that only pad things out. What a waste.

At least I give the latest update this. I think Jamil's outfit is FAR better than his overblot design. It makes him look regal, seeming like a younger Jafar, and is much simpler instead of being an overdesigned mess. I'll end up using this one in my fic instead.

[mirrormazemuses]

——————⋆˙⟡ 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘚 𝘐𝘚 𝘔𝘠 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘓𝘋 𝘕𝘖𝘞

private & indie multimuse feat. fandomless & original charas. penned by crowmun.

sideblog to s00ths4yingzodi4c. sister blog to clippedwingsmuses. promo (w.i.p).

an odyssey of drowning within; self-hatred, chronic pain, neglect, phobias of abandonment & loss, murder, instability & intense emotional outbursts, suicidal thoughts, emotional manipulation, depersonalization & derealization, immeasurable guilt, debilitating anger, unhealthy relationships, && moral ambiguity. please see my thread tracker before asking about replies that i owe

please be mindful when threading / viewing, as many of these triggering topics are relevant to the backstories / worldviews of my muses and will be reflected in their thoughts. all topics will be tagged with '[topic] tw' if / when they appear.

i swear a lot ooc, and my characters may do the same. swearing will ALWAYS be tagged when it shows up, so it can be filtered for the comfort of readers/mutuals.

rules under the cut. see the character analysis tag and my muses doc for muse info.

——————⋆˙⟡ 𝘼𝙍𝙀𝙉'𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙀𝙓𝘾𝙄𝙏𝙀𝘿?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　⠀⠀⠀✦ ⠀ ⠀　　　　　　　　　　　　　　⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀* ⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✦⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.　　　　　　　　　　　　　.　　　ﾟ .　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　✦ 　　　　　,　　　　　　　. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 　　　　　　*　　　　　　　　　　　. .　　　　　　　　　　　　　. 　　✦⠀　   　　　,　　　　　　　　　* 　　　　　⠀　　　　⠀　　,

——————⋆˙⟡ 𝘙𝘜𝘓𝘌𝘚 𝘖𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘚 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘓𝘋:

Typical roleplay etiquette applies here. No godmodding, no meta-rps, no powerplaying or controlling my muse, and don't be a dick.

This blog is PRIVATE, meaning that I only roleplay with mutuals. -- As this is a sideblog, I follow from S00THS4YINGZ0DI4C. -- If you want to break mutuals with me, or you don't want me to follow you, HARD BLOCK ME! I may end up re-following you without realizing/remembering I've been soft-blocked. -- You do not have to follow my main in order to be mutuals with me! A lot of my posts on main tend to be signal boosts and non-rp content that is oftentimes untagged, and may be disruptive on the dashboard. If you want to keep your dashboard clean, you only have to follow this account. -- Please note that if I follow you and you do not follow back after a while, I will unfollow. I'd like to keep my dash mutuals only so I'm not accidentally sending memes/starters to non-mutuals. This is nothing against you personally or your writing.

Personals will be hard-blocked unless they have a RP sideblog.

I will not roleplay with minors because of my blog's themes.

Proper grammar and punctuation are a must when threading with me. -- Capitalization is not a 100% requirement, as my own writing style is entirely lowercase on purpose.

I exclusively do LITERATE roleplays, typically multi-para in length.

You don't have to match the length of my replies, nor the speed at which I reply! However, I expect more than a sentence or two reply.

My blog is extremely low activity due to my ADHD/depression and/or life issues. As such, do not expect me to reply to threads instantaneously. -- I will not hold it against you if you're in this spot as well.

This blog will deal with mature themes, but I will not write NSFW. -- Content leaning to NSFW will fade to black, no exceptions. -- I will not engage in mature themes with minor/aged up muses.

If you write content intended for pr*shippers, or you are one, leave.

I will not roleplay fight sequences unless they are heavily plotted. -- If our RP is edging towards a fight, please talk with me first so we can discuss where it goes. I will do the same to you.

I am MULTISHIP, so I will ship my muses with multiple characters. -- Every character that I RP with will be set in their own verse. -- Please ask before including other people/muses in our verses. -- As these are original characters and not canons, I will be extremely selective with shipping based on the circumstances of the worlds my characters are from.

I am more than willing to write pre-established relationships! -- I will not write pre-established romantic or familial relationships, unless I know you personally.

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I heavily prefer plotted roleplays, unless I make/reply to improv starters.

I prefer to roleplay using icons, HOWEVER, I will not decline roleplaying with you if you don't use icons at all. -- I very rarely, if ever, use faceclaims for my characters as it confuses me. I prefer to use my own artwork/actual artwork of the character(s) if possible. But, I do prefer to use icons when I roleplay, so if I'm writing with a muse that is high priority, they may have a faceclaim attached to them. -- Faceclaims for my muses will be named and shown through an icon on a muse's character analysis post.

I understand that sending in passwords can be difficult for those who are anxious like I am, so instead of sending in an ask, please like this post to show me you've read & understood my rules!

my blacklist: images of bugs / blood/gore / body horror / spiders, unsanitary jokes

please note that this blog will contain spoilers for my novel series 'the journal', due to featuring the characters johnathon black, anastasia petals, and marcasite sile. spoilers will not be tagged. if you do not wish to be spoiled, please block johnathon, anastasia, and marcasite's character tags.

[ask-grandamiral-thrawn]

[OoC, contains !spoilers! for Ahsoka ep. 6]

Sadly, the Ahsoka Show did the one thing I feared: it ruined Thrawn as a character. While many discuss his bodily features and presentation, I really don't have an issue with that. There can be numerous reasons outside of the control of the crew why they had it to do and as many in-universe explanations. Yes, it contrasts Thrawns philosophy of training body and mind to keep in shape, but he is an old man by now who lived 30 years or so in exile.

The thing is:

I would've wished they had talked about that in the series too. Perfect moment for a witty comment by Sabine, something like "You've changed...". A short reply like "I am aware. The time I spent here has taken its toll" and I would've been satisfied. But I'm getting carried away as, again, this isn't my main issue. The whole introduction is.

Thrawns character was often a bit ambiguous. But when I took one thing from the new books, then it is the fact that he despises to stage a great show. The whole introduction sequence felt weird. His man love him, yes. And surely after this long time, they would've developed traditions that make it look like a cult. But Thrawn would've never wanted that. And he wouldn't have used it like that for no reason.

But the worst thing is, that now...he is basically a generic villain. Filoni has done that in Rebels already, yes. But it was a show targeted at kids and teens, so it's understandable that he wanted to have a villain the audience really can hate. Thrawn must be able to hurt the main characters, that's his job.

In Ahsoka tho, I hoped for a complex, layered depiction. And now, not only does he seem to despise Jedi in general, which doesn't even make sense regarding his history, he then pulls the classic "I'm not gonna break my promises, when I never promised to let them live in the first place". That's the same person who got out of their way to talk to a rebel leader he hunted for YEARS. And after the massacre on the planet he tried to avoid the whole time, he proceeded to low-key threatening his only ally in the political system with consequences for that because he hated losing lifes senselessly.

They better come up with an explanation why he has changed. But I fear it won't happen on screen, since it would have obliged to happen in the introduction scene. People being introduced to the character now will wonder why everyone was so hyped about this very generic villain. And I think this presentation of Thrawn, the fact that people will probably not be interested in "yet another Moff Gideon", that's the big crime Ahsoka did...

[vvivacious101]

Invisible

This episode was so weird!

The Preamble

Before this episode came out, there were many rumours that it was longer than usual. I talk more about that here. Suffice it to say, the rumours were very much unfounded, and the episode is the standard length expected from a network television show.

Now, let's look at that promo!

Most of what's in that trailer isn't in the episode. The entire promo is more of a red herring and the whole hostage situation isn't as intense as they make it out to be.

Basically, what I am trying to say is that this episode was very different from what I was expecting it to be, so let's break it down.

The Plot

There are three storylines in this episode - one with Hen, one with Eddie and a subplot featuring Archie - a side character introduced in this very episode.

I am saving the best for last, so let's start with Hen!

Plot A

This storyline starts as Hen realises that everyone, besides Athena (and Eddie), has forgotten it's her birthday. Karen doesn't remember and neither does the 118 - this leads to her having a small outburst at a scene when they are done rescuing Archie for the second time.

This whole storyline just doesn't work. It was so borderline petty that I can't even dismiss it as silly. In the beginning, it was fine but after a point, it really didn't work. This sort of story tends to work better as a subplot as a one-off joke but not as the main plot. Unfortunately, it definitely is one this episode.

I also hated the resolution of this storyline. Because what in the hell was that ending? I literally felt so bad for Buck. It was such an atrocious idea and I literally hated everyone at that table at that moment, especially Hen. Unfortunately, I did NOT find it funny that Hen was guilt-tripping Buck into free yard work and then they just sent him away, they didn't even invite him for dinner - what was up with that? Why the hell am I getting season 1 vibes in season 8?

I feel like this is going to be one of those OOC moments I'm going to have to pretend didn't happen along with the season 6A plot line wherein Buck magically manages to not discuss being a sperm donor with Eddie of all people. It was so unreal that the entire 118 couldn't believe it when Eddie told them he didn't know what was up with Buck. But, I am not going to digress... more than I already have. Just so you know, that latter plot point is my personal nemesis!

Plot B

The episode starts with Archie as he gets fired at work and returns to a dirty apartment he shares with his fiancee and cousin. While cleaning the apartment he gets stuck in the storage compartment underneath the bed frame and before he can get himself out, his fiancee and cousin return and proceed to have sex on top of the bed.

Suffice it to say, Archie is the reason this episode is titled Invisible.

The next time we see Archie he is trapped between the front right wheels of an 8-wheeler trying to reach a nut that rolled in between the two wheels.

He is rescued by the 118 again but only Hen seems to remember him from the previous incident. After he is rescued, Hen proceeds to pour out her frustrations about everyone forgetting her birthday into advice for Archie. She tells him he matters and he shouldn't be afraid to take up space in the world.

The next time we see Archie his car (which is where he is living) is getting towed with him inside it. He manages to roll out of it and pick up the few belongings that spilt out of the car as he got out of it but is soon knocked over by some boys. This prompts him to take a carving knife from his knife block and board the bus - the very bus the boys were in a hurry to board when they knocked him over.

This leads to a very short sequence that is definitely not worth basing an entire promo upon wherein Archie accidentally injures one of the boys who knocked him over. Eventually, Hen boards the bus and manages to convince Archie to let everyone go before she steps out of the bus with Archie who agrees to give himself up.

So, basically plots A&B are supposed to intersect. That moment between Hen and Archie at the site of the 8-wheeler incident is supposed to be how these two characters connect because they are both feeling invisible in that moment. The problem is Hen and Archie's situations aren't comparable therefore the resolution isn't satisfying at all. Archie has to go to jail while Hen gets to have a birthday dinner with Karen, Bobby and Athena while having Buck do free labour for her. This episode was bound to tank!

Also, their shift is so wacky this entire episode. The 118 are at work earlier in the day with Archie at the site of the 8-wheeler incident then Hen is back home with apology gifts then they are all back at work later in the day as Archie holds a bus hostage and then they are all free from work for dinner?! I don't know how shifts work in reality or in this show but they DO NOT work like that!

Plot A - Part 2

Easily the best storyline of this episode is Eddie and Christopher's because it's so goddamn good! It would have shone out even in an otherwise good episode it more than outshone itself considering the hot mess it was paired up with!

I have not been a fan of this storyline since day one. I don't believe that the show should have ever separated Eddie and Christopher and I stand by that. Having said that, the show has definitely put in a lot of effort to make it as believable as possible.

Eddie only lets Christopher go because he is genuinely scared that what he has done is unforgivable and I can understand his impulse to just do what Christopher wants. Letting Christopher go was a bad decision that Eddie made - he should have fought to keep Christopher with him from that very moment but it makes sense that he thought giving him a cooling down period would make an eventual reconciliation easier but instead of things getting easier - days trickle into weeks which trickle into months and suddenly Eddie feels like his son will never return to him and so he goes to him which is the right decision but the fact that he lets his guilt damage his relationship with Christopher to this extent is not but again you can see why it happens. This is why even though I hate this storyline, I can't pretend it isn't a good one because it makes so much sense for Eddie's character.

Then there is Christopher who is suddenly being parented by his grandparents who he hasn't spent any significant time with in his entire life. I feel like Christopher really got stuck in a bad situation because Eddie's parents are taking advantage of a situation they don't have any business taking advantage of.

There are a lot of people who hate Helena and Ramon and deservedly so because they are literally driving a wedge between Christopher and Eddie. It is clear from the previous episode that they don't actually support Eddie raising Christopher which is WILD considering Eddie has been looking after Christopher on his own since he was 5 years old. It definitely raised my hackles but seeing them in this episode was insane because I don't get what they are trying to do with Christopher but he is not a do-over for everything they think they should have done with their own kids. He is not their kid! I am never getting over Eddie's expression when a side character calls Ramon Chris' father - you can literally see his hackles go up. And, then we get the best scene of this entire episode where Chris is wondering if his grandparents will let him stop playing chess and Eddie just tells him you don't need their permission - I'm your father and if you don't want to play chess you don't need to. The moment when he realises that he doesn't need to ask Christopher to move back with him, he is just going to tell him that he is moving back in with him is so good because it perfectly encapsulates what being a parent is and it's 99% just being there. God, I was in love with this twist in this storyline and I'm so happy Chris is where he belongs.

Should I talk about Buck and Eddie? I should. I should, it would be criminal not to. The Facetime diaries continue. They are constantly in contact and it's Buck's advice to Dad Up that is essentially the catalyst for Chris and Eddie coming together again. Buck has great parenting advice when it comes to Eddie - even in the last episode he tells Eddie to not let the fact that Eddie didn't tell Christopher he was working as an Uber driver fester between them which literally leads to the first step in their reconciliation. And, now his advice has literally resolved the whole damn thing! God, now I just need this family unit reinstituted to where it's always been.

In Conclusion

One half of this episode was a hot mess but the other half soothed my soul. I really needed Eddie and Christopher to make up and it finally happened!

I am also really looking forward to the two-parter coming up because it is bound to be more entertaining than the non-issue which was the thriller plot of this episode. It's almost like they promised a thriller hostage situation and instead gave us stale white bread. Atleast, I know we will definitely be getting the thriller vibes next episode.