#this time without my drawings.. for.. causes.

[harmonysanreads]

A muffled pitter-patter shook you awake from a burgeoning sleep, the insistent ring of that irritating doorbell stole you away from the slumber's clutch completely.

Still a little dazed as per the effects of what was supposed to be a free escape from your current grievances, you had to resort to blinking multiple times to make sense of your surroundings.

That cursed ring pierced through your ears again, reminding you very kindly that there is a social interaction brewing just beyond a doorframe. You should really change that tune, the thought passes by you as you approach the looming front door.

A loud splash follows the click of the lock twisting undone, you can't find it in your voice to spell it out, but your eyes kindly do — who is bothering you at this ungodly hour?

Then, you see it. Through the shadow that engulfs your form, beads of water dripping from the curve of his cheek, sliding down the skin of his throat and catching a break at the curve of his collarbone ; before melting into the white, soaked fabric of his shirt.

You can see his left hand fisted close to the doorbell from your peripheral, you draw in a breath (and pray he didn't catch it) upon noticing that the action inadvertently caged you.

Your hand still clutches the doorknob and a small shift against it reminds you to investigate the sight before you again — meeting those blue eyes, dulled in hues of dejection, regret and apology. You swallow dryly, feeling utterly lost before this spectacle, unknowing of what you should do with this drenched, kicked puppy.

“Phainon... I can see the garden's hose in your other hand.”

Silence. Your eyes close as a few drops of water sprint to your face, the sound of running water splattering everywhere clashing with the stillness of the clear, rain-less night much more apparent now. You taste a long, exasperated sigh on your tongue.

It has been mere twenty minutes since you kicked him out of the house — not without a reasonable cause, of course. Just for some much needed reflection upon his behavior for half an hour.

You reflexively take a step back from the waterworks flooding your front porch. That little action must've rang alarms in Phainon's head, as he discards the still running hose at lightning speed and drops to his knees. You're pushed even farther inside as his arms coil around your knees, soaking your nightclothes and the floor.

“My globi... please please please take me back! I've learned my lesson, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—”

His ramblings make your breath stutter, hands flailing around for a moment before settling on Phainon's head, a habit. You sigh again as his words blend into your mind, he could've just used the spare key to enter if he was so desperate. But no, he had to drag you to him and make you take him back by putting on this show!

Some more muttered apologies from him return you to reality once more, you notice his pitifully drenched state and a thought, a habitual worry about him catching a cold as a result of this passes by, and you no longer have it in yourself to continue being angry.

“Okay, okay, I forgive you. Stop this and come inside already.” you grumble, tugging at his wet white locks gently to bring him back to his senses.

Your brows furrow as he refuses to budge from his position. At this rate, he's going to wake the whole neighborhood up with his theatrics.

“... Only if you promise to take a warm bath with me.” he finally, finally poses his condition. You feel another sigh bubbling in your chest but, you push it down. It's your fault for not spelling this bait out before him first anyway.

“Alright, alright! Go turn off the hose and come inside.” you acquiesce completely.

As if he's been anticipating those exact words, he springs from his knelt position with a vigour that paints a funny contrast to his previous deflated begging. Following your words like the obedient lover he is, truly.

[smittenkittens]

Kryptonite courage.

Clark Kent x childhood friend reader

Your best friend from childhood meets you for coffee and he also happens to be Superman. But he’s acting weird and he boldly decides to seduce you. He’s so out of character but you realize that maybe he just needed a little…courage.

CW: Red K influence, manhandling but nothing hard or harmful. Oral (female) unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, confessions, and mis-use of superpowers 😛 not proofread.

I’m down bad yall. Requests open. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

When Clark showed up without his usual uptight behavior, it made you a little wary but alarm bells went off when he nonchalantly used his heat vision in public. He never used his abilities recklessly, always trying to maintain anonymity with his alternate identity. In all the years you’d known him, growing up together and being his childhood next door neighbor, it made you worried.

You had moved out to metropolis a few months before he did. Clark worked at the daily planet and you were working as a bartender while going to school. Being a nursing student, you often used friends as practice and that’s what initially caused Clark to meet you at the coffee shop.

You needed him to help you study and you brought flash cards. After he used his vision to warm up his coffee, you quickly looked around.

“Clark, what the hell? Someone could have seen that!”

Your friend shrugs and leans forward. You glance down, seeing something red glimmer but Clark seizes your hand. He gives you a small smirk and brings one of your fingers to his lips.

Your eyebrows draw close together and time stops as Clark gently sucks the tip of your pointer finger. He looks at you with half lid eyes and you feel his tongue brush the skin. Pulling back, you feel your skin burn. “What was that for?”

“You had leftover donut glaze and I wanted to see if you tasted as sweet as you look.” This caused you to straighten but Clark wasn’t fazed. Rather, he seemed to enjoy you being nervous and he wrapped his large hand around the legs of your chair. You gasped as he pulled you closer, effortlessly moving you between his open legs.

Clark’s dress pants graze over the skin of your legs as he sets his hands on your hips. Your eyes are as wide as saucers, clearly your friend has lost his mind. He’s never been this bold with you. You weren’t blind, obviously you were attracted to him but this was out of character.

“Clark-you’re acting weird.” Nervously, you laugh but it dies in your throat as he lowers his head down further. Clark brushes his lips to your cheek, imperceptibly kissing the area. You hear him inhale deeply.

“You know I can smell you, right?” Clark uses his other hand to lightly rest on your thigh. This makes you stand up.

“Are you high? Is that even possible?” You hardly whisper and scramble to gather your belongings. You were also wearing your work clothes, short skirt and platform boots. You showed off your curves, it always made tippers feel generous. It made you feel exposed as Clark stood up, even with heels on he was much taller than you. His blue eyes flashed the same red color and he chuckled darkly.

“Awww, did I make you flustered? I’m not as naive as you think. I know all about your dirty little secrets. The nights you’ve spent fucking yourself and moaning my name, and let’s not forget the times you’ve watched me shirtless.”

His vulgar words shock you but his knowledge makes you want to disappear. A bigger smile crosses his face and Clark glances at the other customers. He starts to look angry and before you can even register, he puts his hands on your lower back, right above your ass. Possessively and with firm determination, Clark presses his lips to your ear, you smell his aftershave and he whispers, “You’re gonna be a good girl and get in my car.” Scoffing, you shake your head in protest but he doesn’t allow it. “Get in the car,” He repeats himself with authority and you are ready to give in.

But the stubborn streak and complete confusion of his behavior makes you defiant.

“Why don’t you make me, Clark?”

Before you can speak another word of disobedience, Clark has used his super speed to bring you both to your apartment. Dizziness makes you crumble but he doesn’t let you fall. He lifts you by the waist and instinctively your arms wrapped around his shoulders. Your back meets your living room wall and it’s next to a photograph of both of you at graduation.

“What the hell is going on with you? Why are you manhandling me like bale of hay?” You shriek and your legs flail as panic seeps in. Clark’s eyes are still glowing red and you can now see a crimson jewel on a necklace around his neck. You were well aware of the effects of different kryptonite but now it dawned on you that this one was affecting his thoughts. You made a move to touch it but Clark stopped you by holding your wrist down.

“Oh no. This stays on, sweetheart. Otherwise I wouldn’t have the nerve to do this.” You fall silent as he hefts your thighs around his waist. You’re snug against him but comfortable and all resistance leaves you as Clark confesses. “I’ve had feelings for you for a long time. Being so close to destruction made me realize that I can’t go one day without having you. You’re my girl and you belong with me.” Without further words, he captured your lips in a kiss. You sigh into his mouth, thoughts in a thousand directions as fireworks explode. His heartfelt admission contrasts from the way he mouths his mouth with yours.

Clark kissed with his whole body, his tongue presses through your lips and meets yours. You make a small noise as your fingers bury in his dark hair and he groans. His teeth tug your lower lip and he speeds you both into the bedroom.

You know he has to hold back but the physical tension of his muscles bulge as Clark tosses you onto the mattress. Your skirt flares up and he crawls over you. He pulls off his shirt and gives you a hungry stare.

“Fuck, you look so good.” Clark hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and peels them down. They’re sticky in the middle and he balls them up, bringing them to his nose. He smells them and moans. Your naked core drips onto the bed and Clark nudges your thighs further apart. His enormous hands easily holds them open as he sinks to his knees.

He shoves his face into your cunt and you cry out. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched intimately and let alone with this vigor. Clark laps at your clit and his lips suck it like a piece of candy. His crotch is obviously hard as he grinds against the mattress and he plunges his tongue into you. You’re soaking wet as he eagerly and messily devours you. Your eyes shut while you pant and your thighs squeeze his head but he moves them back open again. You can’t move while Clark shifts between your clit and your entrance. Tears prick your eyes and you tremble as you begin to cum. It hits you like a tidal wave and you let out a series of loud sounds of pleasure. Clark licks you through it and doesn’t show any sign of stopping. It makes him even more focused and you see his mouth, chin completely drenched in your slick.

“Clark-please-i need you to fuck me.” You whisper with glistening eyes. You’re left to his mercy as Clark looks up at you. He gives you a particularly lewd kiss on your pussy and playfully nips at your thigh.

“Awww, you need my cock already? But you taste so good, babydoll.” He sucks your clit slowly and adds his tongue. Another orgasms rips from you, stomach tightening and uncoiling. Your mouth goes slack and he pushes your knees to your chest.

This angle makes it more intense and drool escaped from your lips. “Superman, please!”

He immediately pulls off and you find your legs over his shoulders. Clark’s pants are off and his dick slaps over your pussy. He’s well endowed and he slaps the tip over your clit, smearing the precum. “I don’t think you know what you just did, princess. I’m gonna ruin you.” He promises and thrusts into you. You squeal at the fullness, hands flying to his chest but Clark seizes your wrists.

“You can take it, you were made for me.” He presses into you further and you feel like you’re gonna split open. The necklace dangles over your face but his hold keeps you from being able to take it off.

“You’re such a slut, wanting Superman to fuck you. Corrupt this little pussy, huh? You finger yourself and say my name. You are a dirty little girl.” He jerks his hips with each word of the last part of the sentence and white fills your sight. Clark flips you over, pulling your ass up and gives it a hearty spank.

“This is what you want, huh? You wanna be fucked like a whore? You got it.” He plunges back into your entrance and this position is impossibly deeper. The entire bed frame moves with him and your hands dig into the sheets.

You’re sobbing with pleasure as Clark fucks you hard and his pace brutal. It hurts but he spreads you wider to ease the pressure. You reach your peak again and he follows suit.

“Fuck, I can see my cum in you.” You realize as he shoves his fingers in your mouth from the back that he’s using his x-ray vision. He’s watching himself cream in you. Your pussy pulses around his cock but he moves you onto his lap. Clark bounces you on his dick and you put his palms on your tits.

“You should wear that more often,” You groan and Clark licks up your neck.

“I took it off.” You glance back at him but he turns your head back forward. “I don’t need that shit to fuck you. I just needed the boost. Now, I gotta eat that pussy again, baby.”

Clark makes you cum more times than you can count as he’s in between your legs and you barely are able to move. Finally, he rests his forehead on your stomach and kisses up your body. He hovers over you, his shyness back and you recognize him as your lifelong best friend.

“You okay down there?” He cups your cheek and presses his lips to your forehead. “Was I too rough on you?”

“No, it was so good.” You manage to say and he kisses you again.

“We can talk about everything but I think you need a little rest.” He smiles softly at your drifting state and moves you around. Clark settles behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You fall asleep as he rubs gentle circles on your side.

[dissociativewriter]

Could you write something about the LADS having a partner that wears glasses all the time, and then sees them without them for the first time pls :)

as someone who wears glasses a lot, this was very nice to write <3 this isn't much, but I hope you like it!

❀ You stop by Xavier’s apartment before you two’s date for hotpot. He doesn’t say anything at first, just sort of stares blankly.

❀ “…Xavier?” you ask hesitantly. He stares for a moment longer, before giving you a quiet smile. “I almost didn’t recognize you, starlight.” You gape at him, scrunching your nose. “Really?” Xavier nods. “You look really different.” His eyes widen. “But a good different!”

❀ You laugh. “Maybe Superman was right…” you muttered. “I didn’t expect my glasses to throw you off so much.” “It was just for a minute. I wasn’t expecting it, is all,” he defends himself. “Trust me, starlight, I’d recognize you anywhere and anytime.”

❀ A couple hours later, and you were examining yourself in the mirror, comparing how you looked without your glasses. “You know,” you called out to Xavier in the next room. “I really don’t think glasses make a person look that different. It’s like how you have that Lumiere mask. I can still tell it’s you by the rest of your face.” Xavier teleported right beside you. “Lumiere?” Shit.

❀ Zayne freezes when you walk into his office without your glasses. He stares, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.

❀ After a few beats of silence, he finally spoke. "...Where are your glasses?" You gave a small grin. "I got contacts!" Your smile faltered. "Do I look alright?"

❀ “Alright?” Zayne repeated, standing up from his chair. "Darling, you look breathtaking." His breath caught as he stepped closer. “Truly beautiful,” he murmured. “As always.” Now whenever you don’t wear your glasses, Zayne is always staring at you, enamored with how such a small thing can change your appearance.

❀ That doesn’t stop him from worrying, though. “Keep your glasses with you, just in case,” he reminds you. “Switching between wearing contacts and wearing glasses may cause headaches and nausea. I also have ibuprofen if you need it.”

❀ Rafayel is working on a new painting when you enter his studio, not even glancing at you as he offers a “Heyyy, cutie.” You decide to wait around for him to notice on his own instead of saying something.

❀ Unfortunately, it takes nearly an hour before Rafayel decides that it’s time for a break. As he turns to face you, he lets out a loud gasp. “Oh my fishies! This is like in those teen movies when they take off their glasses and it’s like a completely different person!” He keeps his eyes trained on you, tracing over your every feature.

❀ You snort. “Yeah, like how the girl has to take off her glasses to be considered pretty in the makeover scene because of course glasses mean you’re ugly.” You’re chuckling, but Rafayel only furrows his brows. “Don’t talk about my partner like that.” He walks towards you, leaning down and tapping your forehead. “You’re gorgeous with your glasses and without. You hear me, cutie?”

❀ You nod, flustered and pushing him away as he covers your face in kisses. “Stop it, Raf!” “I have to show you, you’re pretty and you’re loved!” he declares. Rafayel pauses for a minute. “I should draw you like this. I need to immortalize my cutie’s beauty.”

❀ You're heading over to Onychinus's base for some one-on-one time with Sylus (and the twins). You’d recently received the shipment of your contacts, so you decided to wear them and surprise Sylus.

❀ When you step inside, it's like the world stops. Luke, Kieran, and Sylus all stop what they're doing when they catch sight of you. "Boss-lady, where are your glasses?" Luke asked.

❀ "I got contacts," you said sheepishly. "...surprise!" "Luke, Kieran, leave. Now." The twins mutter a quick "yes, boss, bye boss-lady " before leaving. Sylus takes a tentative step towards you before cradling your face in both hands.

❀ "You look adorable with your glasses," he begins, voice hoarse. "But you look ethereal without them." He brushes a strand of hair away from your face. "I like seeing your eyes," he whispers before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

❀ You and Caleb had planned a date for the afternoon, so you decided to wear your new contacts out for the first time. You were a bit nervous though, you hadn’t gone without your glasses in years.

❀ "Pips!" he called. "Are you still gettin' ready?" He walked through your apartment, checking every room for you. When Caleb caught sight of you, his steps halted.

❀ “Did you get contacts?” he asked. “Yes…” you said apprehensively. “What do you think? I feel like it changes my face a lot.” You pull your hands up to cover your face.

❀ “Don’t,” Caleb says as he grabs your wrists. “I want to see you.” He stares at you for what seems like an eternity, committing every detail of your face to memory. “Just like when we were kids,” he breathed. “You’re so beautiful. You always have been.”

disso’s note: i got my contacts the summer before my freshman year of high school (9th grade) and i had daily wear contacts at that time. one night during the school year like a couple months in, i was super tired and forgot to take them out before bed. so i woke up the next morning, and put another pair in because i thought i didn’t have any in already. i was a little confused why everything was blurry, but i thought it was just like the morning blurry that happens a lot? and i didn’t think much of the headache i had, because i get those a lot so i was like oh thats not unusual. so i get to school and im sitting in my first period and im like ok this is uncomfortable, so i take out my contacts IN CLASS just at my desk, realize that there’s two contacts in one eye, separate them, and then put the one back in DRY. no mirror, no solution, just sheer will. i was built different back then tbh. i can’t do that now, i don’t know how i did it then.

comments and reblogs appreciated and asks open! <3

masterlist

taglist (8/50): @dolledbunnytail @sleepykittyenergy @orbitraiden @coffeedragonhobbyist @plzdonutpercieveme @sylusgworl @angelkazusstuff @lamogliedizayne

[holmoris]

DAS WEINER WAGON update: it's (almost) finished, finally. Now everyone can see the vision:

400w solar, 200ah battery (ratchet strapped to some bits of rubber and a palette, which is bolted to the chassis) 1500w inverter, autotransfer switch. The whole thing functions as a gigantic UPS for the entirety of my workspace (that RV, which is less a functional RV and more a thing I gutted and turned into a gigantic desk + couch + storage closet on wheels) which pulls ~650w at max when the GPU's doing stuff and all three computers are on. If the battery goes dry it just seamlessly flips over to wall power until it fills again (which hasn't happened yet in the first 2 days of usage, hooray summer). The solar build itself is a couple years old but I had no feasible way to actually get it anywhere near the RV before DAS WEINER WAGON and didn't want to actually install it as it's just a temporary workspace while I save up money to move. Also, lithium batteries are terrifying and I don't want them anywhere near me or my stuff due to the problems they cause if they go bad. That's kind of a big issue. If I'm not there and leave the GPU training a model during the day the total draw's about 370w which is entirely covered by the panels when they're in full sun. Overall the net result is going to probably be dropping the power bill substantially all of which goes straight into the moving fund. Whee. If I can figure out some way to add another side assembly that folds flat for travel I might be able to stuff another 200w on to max out the charge controller. Might be able to go completely off-grid powerwise after I move with that if I get a second battery to fill the empty space next to the first one.

Not pictured:

The insane amount of time I put in making sure it was waterproof and jiggleproof; especially over by the inverter (going to print a plastic cover for that wiring anyways)

The entire thing got sanded and painted but then the cats tracked dirt all over it so it's got dirty cat prints all over

The unfinished cantilever on the panel frame itself. The whole assembly is mounted on hinges so it can nicely tilt up to the optimal angle to catch the morning sun but currently I don't have the hardware to mount the supports on the high side so it's just sitting on some RV supports for now.

The little front cabinet with the actual power outlet/inlet which is otherwise empty save for a piece of wood with the two remotes for the inverter/charge controller mounted on it so I can turn everything on/off without actually going into the main compartment. Going to set up an esp32 for moisture/temp monitoring sometime this week and throw the display for that in there too because I can't overstate how paranoid I am about anything in there getting wet. It'd really be nice to figure out the protocol the charge controller uses too so I could read the voltage/charge over http, maybe that'll happen eventually.

The incredibly silly dragon vent cover that's going on the cable inlet/outlet when I get the filament for it (as demanded by a family member) which actually will function really well as a rain guard (Raz from Psychonauts has nothing on my hatred for water damage)

The other half of the interior; which currently is empty other than a 12v fridge running off the solar stuffed full of drinks. Dunno what to do with that half really; it's probably just going to be storage. Maybe the computers will wind up out there eventually, but I like using the GPU as a space heater (hooray efficiency).

[laserbobcat]

I'm trying to change Leshy's design/head shoulder shape cause like, I tried to draw his eyes and it looked like SHIIIIIIT because I initially drew his ref with a simple round head? It works with the blindfold, but not without, he looks like if Voldemort was a bush lol

Comparison with Valefar, I gave him a big mane and an actual animalistic head shape, so it works!

The kreetur

But I doodle Leshy different from my old rendered ref now, I make him bulkier and fluffier, with some big fluff behind his neck and shoulders

And idk his head looks less round and his face less flat?

Anyway, I'm trying stuff.

I should stop trying to stick to the OG design somehow, because honestly I deviated from his real look a long time ago anyway. I think leshy stopped looking like little bush Leshy when I gave him a jawline and huge muscles instead of being a bushead on a stick lol, I should just accept my fate. Stop being self conscious about going full fanartist mode. I blame @vicaly's hot buff Leshy for my predicament U_U like I've seen big fluffy Leshys but this one, damn

[teaboot]

Ok so. While we're on brains being weird about trains of thought. I have ADHD and Autism, and there's just nothing in there? I never experience words, pictures, anything along those lines in the form of thoughts, and I always thought it was weird for people to have internal monologues. Like the Stuff just manifests fully formed if that makes sense, if you don't mind I'm just curious if anybody else's brain works this way?

Thats so wild. How do you know what you’re going to say BEFORE it comes out? What’s happening in your head when you’re trying to figure out like… a riddle or something? If you can’t hear yourself?

I can't like HEAR-hear my voice in my head, but it’s like when I was first taught to read silently? Like mouthing the words but my mouth isn’t moving? It’s like reading a book without seeing the letters. I think

If you can’t see pictures in your head either, do you think you could navigate your room with your eyes closed? By just like… proximal memory, or by angles and proportions and shapes or something? Or would you just get lost?

I remember and think of most things in sort of a mucked-up collage of sounds, words, colours, and gestures. So when I think of a bird, I think of like… a bluebird- which is the colour blue, the shape of their feet, a poking sensation from a beak, and small twitchy movements.

But I also do art, so most of the time the images I remember are the gestures I would make if I were to draw it- a ball is super clear in my head cause it’s just a swoop and some shades, but an alligator is like…. A silhouette full of vague hatching, a handful of closeups showing alligator scales, a wet eyeball, webbed toes, and cone-teeth in gums- and a muggy wet smell

Brains are so weird man

[jacenotjason]

253 Facts About Hyaku

(YEAH THATS RIGHT 253 YOU PEOPLE ARE INSANE /AFF) some CW for mentions of death/murder/torture + bugs

Every 50th fact is ☆ highlighted, (50th, 100th, 150th, 200th, 250th), just... for fun.

His name “Hyakuashi” (百足) literally translates directly to “Hundred Legs”

Hyaku named himself. 

While he doesn’t have a last name, he’ll sometimes put it down as “Hyaku Ashi” if he needs to.

Hyaku is 6’1” (185 cm), but his heels make him about 6’4” (193 cm) 

He’s about 130lbs, which with his height, makes him underweight.

Hyaku doesn’t care about this, he prefers to be on the slimmer side (and isn’t even sure if he can gain or lose weight….) 

In a non-spooky style, his eyes would be a deep brown, almost black. 

^ In some writing I haven’t posted yet, I described his eyes as - “Deep black, monolid, and unnervingly still; they didn’t reflect light very much. There was something wrong about them, though she couldn't say how. Looking into them felt like standing in the center of a dark room and knowing, without question, that something in the dark was watching. Not one thing, but many.”

I often draw him with a lot of piercings in his face when drawing in my style, usually a septum most notably, but also a bridge and eyebrow piercing. 

His Meta creation date is December 21, 2024

He doesn’t have an in-universe birthday, not only because his creation is vague, but because he never bothered to pick out a fake birthday. 

^ If ever asked, he’d just give a date that’s very soon to get free stuff. 

Hyaku currently holds the highest killcount of all my OCs, with Mars a far second. 

Hyaku is Japanese!

He specifically comes from Osaka, Japan 

Hyaku is a yokai; He is the human form of The Omukade, or the Giant Centipede. 

Hyaku can return to the form of the Omukade, however, doing so would permanently destroy his human form. 

If asked, Hyaku wouldn’t be able to answer if he prefers to be human, or his original form. 

Hyaku feeds on negative emotions, he purposefully causes harm in order to feed and entertain himself.

His actions range from just shouldering people, to ensuring someone witnesses the death of a loved one.

Hyaku can sometimes tell if someone is also not human.

It’s not a perfect radar, but if he notices he doesn’t feel as full of misery as he should, he might be able to suss out that the person isn’t completely human. 

If Hyaku ever met someone COMPLETELY unbothered by his behavior, he’d continue to bother them worse and worse until they finally snapped

^ or until HE finally snaps, and kills them. Or, if they can’t be killed for any reason, he’d avoid them completely and become annoyed by their presence. 

The worst way I think someone can perceive Hyaku is like a hungry animal that’s just trying to survive, because this isn’t true. Without the need to consume negative emotions, Hyaku would STILL act like this. He’s simply cruel. 

Hyaku views humans as juice boxes; he holds no respect for them. 

He will never respect a human, no matter how intelligent, strong, or ruthless they are. At best, he may find one amusing for a time, like a particularly clever pet.

Hyaku LOVES anything apple flavored, especially apple juice. 

He also enjoys anything apple themed (apple plushie, cup, clothing, etc etc) 

His favorite season is Fall

His favorite color is any warm color (Red, orange, yellow) 

Hyaku bites ice cream 

On the note of ice cream, Hyaku doesn’t like anything too sugary.

He speaks both Japanese and English, with Japanese being his first language

Hyaku regularly slips into Japanese when speaking, usually to insult people around him that don’t know what he’s saying. 

Hyaku put off learning English for a LONG time, and put off learning to read + write English for even longer. 

^ to this day, his reading and writing is amateur. 

Hyaku has a very durable exterior. Traditional weapons (blades, guns, blunt objects, etc) do little damage to him, if at all.

Human saliva melts this armor, leaving Hyaku vulnerable to traditional attacks. 

When saliva melts his armor, it leaves Hyaku’s skin sizzling and numb. Even if not followed by an attack, just coming in contact with spit would be decently upsetting to Hyaku. 

Logically speaking the most effective way to attack Hyaku is to bite him, (if you were human)

Poison would also be ineffective to Hyaku, as… he is venomous himself. 

Hyaku’s venom isn’t fatal. If bitten and injected, it would cause intense pain and swelling, leaving someone weakened rather than dead.

If someone lived after being bitten, the bite would cause an intense fever after a few hours

After the fever pasts, the wound will become very itchy and irritated, baiting the victim to irritate it further and make it worse

All in all, it takes a few days for a Hyaku bite to fully heal 

His venom tastes like apple-flavored bleach 

Hyaku will fidget often with his ahoges/antenna, either twirling them from boredom or pulling on them with anger.

On the alignment chart, Hyaku would be Chaotic Evil. 

☆ His deadly sin would be Lust or Gluttony. 

His tarot card would be The Tower

His flower is a Red Spider Lily 

His animal symbolism would be a centipede, duh

^ but he favorite bug is actually a cicada 

Hyaku has an intact hunter mindset

He’s incredibly good at reading body language when chasing someone, able to predict where they’re going to turn next with really good accuracy 

He’s able to corner people with ease. 

Hyaku has a scar under his right eye, only visible when his glasses are removed

This scar is from when Hyaku was first taken down as The Omukade, suffering an arrow to the face.

Hyaku took his human form as a way to hide and heal, sleeping in Mount Mikami for 100 years.

He healed fast, but chose to stay asleep for longer, waiting for the people that remembered and feared The Omukade to die off. 

His first words as a human were a lie. 

They were “I don’t know where I am,” spoken in Japanese.

Hyaku’s voice claim is Leon Kuwata from Danganronpa, 

^ I’ve never been fully satisfied with his voice claim, but I haven’t found anything that fits better. 

His actual voice would be Leon Kuwata’s pitch, but with Miu Irumas tone, vocabulary and inflections. Basically if Leon said Miu’s lines. 

^ He often overuses curses and swears, and is rather vulgar. 

He’s incredibly vulgar with his words, not afraid to bring up people’s bodies or looks causally

A lot of characters in spooky month represent horror tropes, Hyaku is the representation of “Gore Porn” movies. (Think Tusk, Saw, Hostel, etc)

^ His entire being is a pun on this. He’s a HUMAN. CENTIPEDE. 

Hyaku can also represent the “Monster Disguised as a Man” trope, similar to The Thing, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, It Follows, etc

Bonus, he can also follow the “cannibalism as a metaphor for love” trope, sort of. Technically not “cannibalism” since Hyaku isn’t human, and I wouldn’t describe what he feels as “love” 

Despite his inspiration being torture porn movies, Hyaku would be disapointed in The Human Centipede movie. 

Hyaku can sometimes fall and run on all fours if in a crisis, but he never does this on purpose

Hyaku is not used to being injured. 

If ever seriously injured (Cough, Bob Velseb), Hyaku would falter in his confidence and panic a lot. 

Hyaku’s gender identity and attraction are VERY complicated, I can’t really fit them both into perfect labels. The best way I can explain it is.. Like if a thing that wasn’t MEANT to feel attraction, was suddenly squished into the shape of a human. His human form craves intimacy but he, himself, as the Omukade, doesn’t want it. 

THAT BEING SAID, Hyaku feels connected to masc terms.

He uses he/him, but would also respond to they/them or it/its.

I personally just use he/him with him, as I more associate it/its and they/them with his Omukade form, but feel free to use any of them!

Hyaku would also fall under aromatic and pansexual. 

He feels his own version of attraction towards people and things, which I won’t get into, and that attraction has no preference of gender 

BONUS, Hyaku would also be objectum (thats why I said “people and things”). 

I originally made Hyaku to be an demon x priest ship with Father Gregor, but that got pushed aside in favor of him being a yokai 

^ that being said, i think Hyaku would still be attracted to Father Gregor

^ i have a joke about this but it’s a bit.. Risque. So I’m choosing to hold onto it until the future. Just know that it exists. LMAO. 

Physically, Hyaku can pass as about 21-28.

He usually defaults to saying he’s 26

Hyaku is actually about 1400 years old, give or take 

On Toyhouse, I have his age listed as “Older than tea in Japan”

^ This is true! Since tea came to Japan at about 700 CE, and Hyaku’s age places him at being “born” in about 625 CE

Born in quotations, as.. The Omukade’s birth isn’t known at all.

Hyaku isn’t willing to share where he came from, either.

Possibly because he simply doesn’t remember, but isn’t willing to admit he forgot. 

Hyaku has been around for a LLLLOOONG time. (his story on Toyhouse is currently outdated!) 

He’s been awake and posing as a human since about 780 CE  

In the Heian period (around 1100), Hyaku posed as a wandering onmyōji, using spiritual exorcisms as a front to feed on grieving families. 

He immigrated to America in about 1700

^ to get here, he lied saying he was coming for work 

☆ ^ He brought an invasive bug species with him which still plagues part of the South 

Hyaku adopted the leather jacket style in 1950, and didn’t give it up even when it fell out of style

Yes, in 1950 Hyaku was a greaser. 

In 1970, Hyaku was a member of a band called “PLAY OR DIE”. 

This is when he learned how to play the electric guitar, which he still does today!

When the leader of this band accidentally discovered Hyaku’s true nature, Hyaku killed them in a staged house fire and moved on. 

The other two members of the band were left alive, believing that Hyaku had died in the fire, too. 

He’s been all around America, but came to Spooky Town just about eleven years ago. 

When he first arrived, he caused a car crash to test Spooky Town’s police response time. 

He originally planned to pass through Spooky Town, as the low population didn’t interest him.

However, the cult caused the emotional aura of Spooky Town to be completely rancid, enticing Hyaku to stay. 

Hyaku briefly dated Shotgun Man, but Shotgun actually broke up with Hyaku before he could do any damage. 

^ Hyaku is… still appalled by this. And Shotgun doesn’t know how big of a bullet they dodged. 

Hyaku’s original inspiration, waaaaay back when, was Trevor from The Good Place. I was captivated by that asshole.

^ In fact, one of Hyaku’s first lines I ever drew him saying was, “You should smile more”, which is also one of Trevor’s first and recurring lines. 

One of Hyaku’s later inspirations was LuLu (Luluyam)

Another recent inspiration is Erik Campbell from the new Final Destination movie, and is the reason Hyaku currently works at a tattoo parlor 

Hyaku smokes and drinks. 

He drinks because he interprets it as a luxury

His drink of choice is often red wine… straight from the bottle. He doesn’t bother with formalities like… glasses. 

He began smoking as sort of a dick move, wanting to smoke then quit just to show how incapable humans are

..This backfired, as he’s addicted to nicotine now. Though, he’d never admit it.

If you ever look closely, you can see he wears nicotine patches occasionally, usually hiding them under his leather jacket collar. 

Hyaku is insecure of his hips and hipbones, but he’ll never admit this. 

Hyaku has awful eyesight, and his sunglasses actually double as prescriptions. Once again, he’ll never admit this. 

His bad eyesight is one of the reasons he put off learning to read English for a long time 

Hyaku’s eyes are also sensitive to light. He can get used to light over time, however harsh, sudden lights, like a flashbang would disorient him greatly. 

Hyaku is very embarrassed of his bad eyesight, if it ever became obvious (ex, he runs into a door or mistakes something or something else), he would become very red heheh 

While his eyesight is terrible, his hearing is impeccable. 

His antenna can also pick up on subtle vibrations and movements, allowing him to “see” more clearly 

Hyaku works at a tattoo and piercing parlor 

It’s called “Pins and Needles” 

Some people joke that Hyaku would purposefully give people bad tattoos, but he actually loves his job and doesn’t want to lose it!

He loves his job because the clients there are constantly in WILLING pain, it’s great 

Even though he does his best at his job and gives people whatever they’re asking, Hyaku might purposefully cause a bit more pain than needed. He often pushes the tattoo gun harder than needed, or hesitates a few seconds before piercing someone. 

I’ve thought about his co-workers at Pins and Needles a few times, but I’m yet to give them any designs

I like to think that Hyaku gave Aaron his snake tattoo. 

Hyaku has no living relatives, but I’ve contemplated designing his “mom” just for fun. 

Hyaku is also not above lying about having living relatives for any reason

Hyaku can summon multiple arms from his back! 

When they are summoned, I’ve imagined them sort of… folding out from his skin, like an unfolding chair. His hands would be the last thing to unfold from his back, if that makes sense. I might have to make a visual reference for this one. 

He can summon 4 extra (6 total) before shit gets weird

By “shit gets weird” I mean his torso will elongate to make room

Whenever Hyaku is in a situation where he needs more strength, he won’t stop at just 6 or 8 arms. Once the dam has broken, Hyaku will take a form I’ve named “The Amalgamation.” 

The Amalgamation is basically the result of Hyaku summoning a BUNCH of arms, causing him to move on his arms now, like a centipede.

I’ve compared this form to both “the end result of the human centipede”, as well as “if Tusk was about a centipede instead of a walrus.” 

You may be wondering… well what does the end of The Amalgamation look like? And I don’t have an answer.

I think that’s kind of poetic, not even I, the artist, knows what the end of it looks like 

Hyaku can make bug noises! He often hisses, chitters, or buzzes. 

^ This is because, while his arms are completely intangible when not in use, his mandibles are folded inside his mouth, behind his teeth. So they can rub together and make noises at will 

☆ Sometimes Hyaku’s mandibles are unfolded out of his mouth by accident, usually through anger. 

While he doesn’t bother with an actual routine, Hyaku does take time in the morning to style his hair

When wet or unstyled, his hair would reach his shoulders. 

Hyaku’s design holds a lot of secret symbolism! He’s supposed to heavily resemble a chinese red-headed centipede, even down to the order of his colors 

His orange ahoges are supposed to be the orange antenna 

His sunglasses are not only supposed to look like big bug eyes, 

But are also the red of the red-headed centipede!

His yellow accents (the inside of his jacket, gloves, and boots), are the legs of the centipede 

All the grey + black on his clothes is the rest of the body 

Bonus, his side burns are supposed to resemble mandibles. 

Hyaku’s design is very top-heavy, especially around his torso. His shoulders are broad, but his waist and hips are narrow. 

His legs are also very long, made longer visually by his heels. 

Hyaku’s favorite food is meat, he’s incredibly carnivorous. 

His favorite kind of meat is, of course, human.

He also consumes bugs such as flies, cockroaches, spiders, crickets, and even other centipedes.

He doesn't mind maggots either; finding them in his meat is like a bonus to him.

Though he enjoys it raw, he's very talented when it comes to cooking and preparing meat

During a noise complaint inspection by the police, Hyaku once tricked Jack into eating human flesh he'd cooked

Hyaku’s spice tolerance is VERY HIGH, he often gets food as spicy as he can 

Despite being very physically able (High strength + energy + endurance), Hyaku would rather relax than do something physically exerting. 

^ Another reason he enjoys doing his job, because he gets to sit constantly!

Hyaku is incredibly flexible as well! 

He’s very agile and has a lot of control over his body. He does flips and cartwheels and wooooooh 

Hyaku has been in a couple romantic relationships throughout his life, though none of them meant anything to him. A mix of girls and guys. 

He’s even been married a few times! 

His first relationship as a human was with a girl

^ Her name was Chiyo. 

^ Chiyo was alive in 780 CE, so she has long passed. However, she did NOT die at the hands of Hyaku. 

Hyaku considers Chiyo “The one that got away”. 

Hyaku doesn’t sleep often. Mostly because he doesn’t care

This has resulted in his heavy eyebags, though he doesn’t care about them

^ he sometimes even highlights them with eyeliner

Hyaku would rather sleep at a time he should be awake (ex, work, when someone is talking to him), then during the night. 

On the rare occasion he is deeply asleep, Hyaku is a LOUD snorer. 

Hyaku is not above attacking children, but he doesn’t purposefully target kids for his cruelty. If he were to attack a child, it’s most likely to hurt someone else.  

Hyaku has social media! He mostly posts his tattoo artwork, pictures of his food, OOTDs, dancing, etc. He’s not afraid to put himself online. 

^ he would also ragebait a lot LMAO 

His phone would be as modern as it can be, with a bug charm hanging from it

Hyaku has Thanatophobia, or a fear of death. Hyaku cannot comprehend no longer existing, and the unknown of the afterlife scares him. 

Hyaku also has a small fear of projectiles, or things being thrown at him. You might see a small micro flinch if you raise your arm like you’re going to throw something. 

Hyaku usually fights with his hands/claws, or mandibles, but if given the choice of a weapon he’d pick a knife, or something bladed. 

He smells like gasoline, old blood, and citrus

Hyaku is not a morning person at all, he takes a good 30 minutes to get out of bed. 

He will always arrive late to things

Hyaku would dress up as a centipede for Halloween, and when asked would say he’s a “Human Centipede” 

That being said, Hyaku is not fond of holidays like Christmas, as he finds himself hungry of misery. He’s not a fan of the holly jolly >:( 

While Hyaku’s current job is as a tattoo artist, he’s had several jobs throughout the years

Between these jobs, he’d make money through conning people or simply thieving. 

His favorite job so far has been his current one, though

Hyaku can and will fake vulnerability. Whether in a new place where the people there don’t know him and will take pity on him, or with someone that would simply believe the lie.

☆ He’d fake vulnerability for multiple reasons, either to get something he wants or simply gain trust. 

He sometimes will fake being downed. For example, if shot, he’ll lay on the ground and play dead even though the bullet didn’t actually pierce him. This is just for fun. 

Hyaku is genuinely upset that he missed being a part of the black plague, but he did feel it happening, even all the way in Japan. Not enough to sustain or feed him, but enough to just know something was happening. 

Hyaku is a really ugly crier, though he doesn’t cry often. 

Hyaku doesn’t respect others' personal space, but will shove people away if they invade his. 

^ or if they’re just.. In his way. He shoves people a lot

Hyaku witnessed when Bob attacked Streber, but chose to watch from across the street rather than help

I have a pinterest board for Hyaku! 

I have a Spotify Playlist for Hyaku! He’s characterized mostly by unapologetically lustful and loud songs. 

If I had to pick just ONE song for Hyaku, I’d no doubt go with Centipede Legs by LuLuYam. 

LuLuYam’s upcoming song, Amalgamation, also has some chance of being a new Hyaku theme. Oooo….

Hyaku’s actual music taste would be a blend of rock and breakcore. Everything in between that. He has no patience for slow songs… 

Despite spending a lot of his existence in baggy clothing, Hyaku prefers skin-tight clothes as of the modern year. 

Even a winter outfit (which I’ll… design one day..) wouldn’t be very baggy.

The only baggy clothes he wears are his bedtime clothes, (Which I’ve drawn Here and Here!)

^ The Japanese on his bedtime clothes translates to “bug boy” 

I’ve accidentally trans-coded Hyaku a few times lmao 

Most notably when I joked that Hyaku would lay eggs, then later learned that only female centipedes lay eggs

Hyaku’s name went through a lot of different versions. His name could’ve been: Mukade (ムカデ); a literal direct translation of ‘centipede’, Kijiniku (��人肉); which translates to “raw human flesh”, or “demon flesh” in some contexts, and Uji (蛆); which is just directly translated to Maggot 

Hyaku’s design actually went through a lot of development. In REALLY early concepts he was PINK.

He also had squared glasses in his first sketches, which also featured itsnotmourn’s Winnie. Hi winnie ! 

He also originally had just one colored streak in his hair, back when it was just… hair. Now it’s his antenna so double it and give it to the next person. 

I also briefly considered giving Hyaku a braid in early concepts, like a thin braid that resembled a centipede. I think the idea is cool, but I’m glad I didn’t go with it, it would’ve gotten lost in his design and it gives off more “wise” vibes than Hyaku deserves. 

The first time I ever depicted Hyaku with his canon skintone was in Ponytown. Lmao. 

Realistically, Hyaku would have stretchmarks on his midsection. 

I always draw Hyaku’s extra arms just forming outside of his clothes, that’s not logical at all I just thought it was the easiest way to draw it. More logically I think his extra arms would slide under his shirt then pop out, leaving Hyaku in kind of a scrunched up, DIY crop top 

I also never draw his extra arms with clothing, not only because it made sense to me, but because it helped me remember which arms were the “original” lmao 

While Hyaku does ruin or destroy most relationships, he DOES enjoy having friends that are cruel like him. These bonds are rare.

Though rare, his love language is quality time. 

Hyaku doesn’t currently own any pets, but if he did he’d want something like a snake or a spider. 

I’ve always imagined Hyaku’s mode of transport (currently) being a motorcycle, which he is no doubt a show-off on.

Dogs and cats do not like Hyaku. Dogs will bark at him and cats will hiss at him. 

Hyaku lives in a home large enough to fit a family. He lives there by himself.

How he obtained this house is unclear.

It would be hinted that Hyaku murdered the previous owner(s) and took the house for himself.

Hyaku does not keep this house very clean, but it’s not horrible. Just enough to be trashy. 

If Hyaku had a canonical episode, it would be called “Centipede Legs”

If I had any musical talent, I’d make Hyaku his own soundtrack for the episode

…I’ve also come up with a few names of tracks on said soundtrack. 

His theme would contain subtle electric guitar, ofc.

His “....” theme would include quick staccato strings, like a centipede scuttling. 

Most of the Spooky Month villains die at the end of their episodes. If Hyaku were to die, it would be by an arrow to the head. 

Hyaku is not associated with the Spooky Month cult, but he is aware of them, and they’re aware of him. 

Hyaku sees the cult as a parade of human delusion

He doesn’t believe in The Eyes

Cultist characters can tell there’s something inhuman about Hyaku 

The cult has no reason to target Hyaku, and Hyaku is knows better than to purposefully bother them, they have a loose trust with each other

Hyaku's home also has a basement, where he hides most of his debauchery.

His basement often holds human captives, which Hyaku keeps to stay constantly fed at home. Theyoften die of starvation or blood loss.

His basement also holds freezers of human flesh.

☆ Inspired by the Kelly Affair music video, Hyaku’s basement would also hold kennels

The basement is padlocked from the outside, with a rug over it when not in use.

Hyaku’s basement is always a piece of lore I’m nervous to talk about, as I think it’s “too edgy” sometimes, but I feel as though it was important to establish how cruel Hyaku is.

To him, hosting people in his basement is similar to pickling your own cucumbers or growing your own food. 

for every note on this post... i will give one (1) Hyaku fact.

yes i am Fully copying what Mourn did awhile back, I REALLY WANT TO TALK ABOUT RANDOM STUFF <3 i didnt have enough Hyaku brainrot then but i do now

[qyuobii]

Kittyrinder is so cute!!! But how would Lamb react? And how would Kittyrinder feel once back to adult Narinder?

PREVIOUS

TW: BLOOD!!

Okay sooo....... this probably isn't exactly the most wholesome continuation you might've been expecting.

I have thought about this ask for so long (and I've thought HARD), this is probably as best as their interactions go outside of funny stuff.

My Lamb and Narinder have a very transactional relationship, and it is in no part romantic or platonic.

They absolutely hate one another's guts and are constantly under guilt or unease whenever they're in each other's vicinity.

CONTEXT:

(If you'd like to read some rambling lmao)

The reason for this very tense connection is that they've done irreversible things that caused a major tragedy in both their lives.

Lamb is the cause of Narinder's forever "limbo" state, meanwhile Narinder was the reason Lamb's entire herd was wiped out in the first place/taking a miserable title as "Lamb of Death" without choice. Even though they DESPISE each other, they also can't forgive themselves for their own actions too.

The scars on their eye/face are an everlasting reminder for this.

Hence, even though Lamb has all the power to banish/execute Narinder at any time, they choose not to and actually try to make it up to him despite everything.

Narinder also chooses to keep this "peace" because it's the closest he ever had to a genuine "mortal" connection. They've longed for company for centuries and Lamb was a huge part of it, even though it isn't the healthiest kind of bond..

They're stuck with each other, so they decide to at least get something out of it (alliance, intel, anything that can benefit the cult, etc.)

I'll for sure draw more of it in detail in the future ... if I get the energy to. 😢

If you've made it this far, I thank you with all my heart!!

It's really fun to answer asks like this <3

[fumiscripts]

✦ GET INK POISONING

✦ one shot ,, michael kaiser x gn!reader

content:: his tattoos looked a little plain. good for you, you had markers on-hand. part two of artist!reader.

crack . 1.1k

additional:: bickering, swearing, romantic undertones, reader has a lowkey crush on him

masterlist.

One thing you like about your muse is his tattoo.

From the blue rose inked on his neck, the thorny vines wrapping down his arm like a sleeve, to the keyhole adorned crown that sat on the back of his left hand. As an artist, you found it quite interesting. Something that held a big significance to someone, clearly. It's beautiful.

At times, you can't help but want to see it up close. Can't help but want to trace along each intricate line. Maybe even doodle a thing or two along his arm, as well.

Yes, you still consider him an op. The thought of throwing stones at him while booing still passes through your mind once in every while every time he does something that mildly ticks you. Though, you could hold more civil conversations without insulting each other at every reply. Hell, you've managed to compliment him a few times— the look of surprise that briefly flashes through his face was amusing. The difference from when you first met is insane.

Right now, you spot Kaiser lounging by the sofa in the buildings, flicking through gameplays of whatever. Because you wanted to grace him with your awesome presence, you sat down beside him, eyes instantly locking onto his tatted arms, placed absently on his lap whilst he decidedly ignored you.

Dang, it was like a free canvas begging for you to draw something on it.

As discreetly as you can— which was fairly noticeable— you reach for his arm, dragging it to your lap instead. Kaiser raised an eyebrow, blue eyes shifting to what you were doing. Along the line of your beefing artist-muse relationship, he had gotten used to you randomly snatching away his hand to draw on. It's a weird thing you do, but he could make fun of you because of it, so he didn't have many complaints.

You started with softly tracing the crown with your fingers, acting all subtle. After a while, you decided to screw being discreet and took a marker out with your other hand, fiddling with the stationary before managing to take the cap off. At this point, Kaiser's attention had left the running television, instead watching you scribble along his arm. His brow raised as you made a doodle. “Is that a pig?”

“What? This is clearly a cat,” you scoff in offense. How dare he call the small kitty you drew near his wrist a pig. “You need better glasses,” you remark, proceeding to make a little stickman climbing up the vine tattoo. Like Jack and the beanstalk. You just drew whatever came to mind, stars, flowers, and a walmart version of the Mona Lisa.

Kaiser stared at you as you made more doodles along his arm. Blue eyes watched your expert fingers make cute little linearts on his skin— which he'd die out of embarrassment from if anyone ever saw it. Speaking of dying, he voiced out a concern that popped up in his mind. “Ever thought this might give me ink poisoning?”

You smiled, filling in the black stripes of a mini zebra you etched. “That'd be amazing. Can't wait to see you confined in a hospital,” you jested, making him roll his eyes at your tomfoolery.

“Aha, you'd be missing your muse day and night if you committed to that,” he scoffed, leaning over to a more comfortable position. “Don't you wanna sketch me all the time like it's your full-time job?” Kaiser teased, and you used that opportunity to start a little back and forth.

“I'm drawing you ‘cause nobody else would be interested enough to. Basically charity work, you easy-to-draw failed hairstyle experiment.”

“Please, sounds to me like you just wanna hoard the ‘that one Kaiser artist’ title,” he then tilted his head at your latter statement, a bit offended. “...failed hairstyle experiment– Hey, my hair isn't that bad. You're being overdramatic.”

You shrugged. “It's a disaster to draw. So it is bad,” you retort. “Sometimes, I would even prefer to have you bald just to avoid sketching your hair.”

He gaped— giving way too much theatric flair in acting offended— before snapping back into his usual asshole demeanor. “Sure. Like you wouldn't miss it,” he bit back, a strained smirk crossing his face. “You always draw it extra fluffy. Seems to me that you want to run your hands all over my hair really bad.”

“Yeah. So I can pull on your rat tails,” you huff, doodling a little bow on his wrist. “And then yank them so hard they detach from your scalp.”

“You are not doing that.”

“Yuh uh.”

“Nuh uh," he huffs. He gives you a look when you pinch his arm. “Brat. I let you draw on my arm and this is how you treat me?” he scoffed, acting like he was personally insulted— which he was, but still— and yanked his hand away from you, pushing your face away like it just offended his eyes. You frown at having your canvas taken away from you.

You cross your arms, huffing under your breath. “You’re no fun," you were pouting. Pouting. He felt his eye twitch.

“For not letting you pull on my hair...?”

“And for taking my canvas away.”

Kaiser sighed. Loudly. So you could hear his exasperation. “Oh my god, you're so infuriating. Do you want me that bad?” self-centered prick. Of course he won't let you be victorious in this out-annoying each other.

“Ew,” you make a show to physically cringe and gag, taking your point across. “I’d rather shit on my hands and clap,” you retort, willing yourself not to get startled when he draws closer, to the point he was slightly leaning over you, using that damn height to his advantage.

He looks at you for a few seconds, watching. Half-judgemental, half starting a staring contest. You think you should focus on the contact being awkward— but did his eyes look this pretty up close? He stayed silent after your words for a couple of moments, before snickering. Kaiser brushed his hair back, pulling away, putting his hand on your lap, arm on full display to doodle on at your heart's complaint. “Yeah, right,” he exhales longly, acting like he was doing you a favor.

You blink, wondering why the hell your heart went slightly faster at him staring at you like a cat. Ugh, fuck. You really hate this guy. Him and his stupid blue eyes. Mentally slapping yourself, you go back to drawing on his arm. A smiley face, a cloud, that one ’s' and...

Your signature. On Kaiser's skin.

 You smirk, feeling like this could be the perfect thing to tease him with next. Except, you kinda felt giddy about having a little something of you on him.

...

What the fuck.

i saw this halfway done in my drafts and decided to finally finish it

© fumiscripts ✦

[ayexaye]

hiii making a request; Shidou x fem reader where she’s the force that kinda grounds him?? friends to lovers type beat. prettypleasecantheykiss

a/n; sorry this took me so long for some reason 😭 I took DAYS to write this I was struggling so much, mostly cause its hard for me to imagine shidou being calm in any capacity LMAO hopefully it turned out okay and thank you so much for the request <3

── .✦

˚⋆｡°✩₊ Let me into your heart ᡣ𐭩

Shidou Ryusei x reader, headcanons and a short fic [700~ words]

── .✦

-When you two first meet, you're one of the few people that don't flinch away when he says or does something crazy, which is what gets him interested in you in the first place

-Something about you makes him actually listen to you. If he's too “intense” you just give him a look and he just calms down

-Even though he pretends to brush you off and acts like he doesn't care about your opinion, he always ends up following whatever you want in the end

-You don't scold him for how he acts, and it reminds him that he isn't some kind of monster

-Once you become close friends, you're very much a safe place for him, a place he can be vulnerable, even if only a little

-Partly because you can tell so quickly when he's genuinely upset about something

Shidou was never good at staying still or being quiet, and you know that well from being friends with him.

His shoes scuffed against the floor with every bounce of his foot. He stared at you from across the café table, leaning against his palm. You paid him no mind, continuing to read through your textbook (much like he was also supposed to be doing).

He let out a groan, leaning back in his seat and dragging his hands down his face dramatically, loud enough to draw in glares and side eyes from other people in the café.

“You're so boring- this is so boring! Can't we go do somethin’ fun?? I don't wanna study anymore.”

“You're the one who said you wanted help with this chapter,” you replied, not bothering to look up from your notes.

“Well I lied,” he said, leaning closer to you. “I just wanted a reason to hang out with you.”

“Shocking.”

“You should be shocked,” he grinned. “I don't give my time to just anyone, babe.”

You glanced up at him with a half-hearted glare. He laughed, leaning back in his chair again—so far you think it might fall over.

“You're gonna get us kicked out…” You muttered as you closed your book. He scoffed, letting his chair fall forwards again, the front legs banging against the ground with a loud thud. “And don't call me that.”

“So you're done?” He asked excitedly, eyes lighting up when you shove your notes back into their folder.

“For now. Since someone can't seem to last 5 minutes without causing a scene.”

“Me?” He pointed at himself in mock offense, scoffing. “But I've been so well behaved!”

“Do you think threatening to punch someone on our way here is well behaved?” You countered.

“He looked at you weird! And I didn't actually punch him.”

You rolled your eyes as both of you stood up. Once you both got out of the café, he latched his arm around your shoulder. “C'mon, I'll walk you home. I deserve it for being such a good boy today, don’tcha’ think?”

You failed to hold in your laugh, and didn't try to shrug him off as his arm stayed comfortably slung around you. You walked together quietly for a while.

It always seemed like Shidou was calmer like this when it was just the two of you.

“I honestly don't understand why you like hanging out with me all the time,” you admitted.

Shidou shrugged. “I mean, you give me shit sometimes but… I kinda like that you can put me in my place, y'know?”

“Someone's gotta do it, or else you'll end up in trouble all the time.”

You finally arrived at your front porch, and you turned to face him. “Well... Thanks for the walk.”

Shidou didn't move, eyes focused on you. “Do you want me to leave?”

You paused. He was uncharacteristically serious as he waited for your answer.

“Uhm—It's kinda late.” You cleared your throat, suddenly unable to meet his intense gaze. Truth be told, you weren't sure yourself if you wanted him to leave. But saying that out loud.. “Probably should…”

Shidou must have been able to read your hesitation, because as soon as you turned towards your door, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer. Your heart pounded suddenly in your chest.

“I don't wanna leave yet,” he said quietly. “Especially if you don't want me to.”

You sucked in a sharp breath as he leaned closer to you.

“I can be good for you. I will.”

“Shidou—”

His free hand cradled your cheek. “Let me?”

His eyes bore into yours, desperate, hungry. But you could also sense a rare uncertainty from him, like he wasn't used to wanting something so badly without knowing if he would actually be able to get it.

You nodded, and it was all he needed to lean in and kiss you. His hand slipped from your wrist to your waist, shockingly delicate compared to how rough he kissed you. When he finally pulled away, you were speechless.

“You don't gotta say anything. I've just been wantin’ to do that for a while.”

“Then..” Your hand latched onto the collar of his jacket, pulling him with you as you opened your front door. “I think you should do it again.”

── .✦

𖹭.ᐟ Masterlist — thank you for reading! likes/reblogs/comments are greatly appreciated <3

[devil-hunter66]

Vergil's eyes gazed upon her as she asked that question, Yamato rested soundly upon his lap as the Demonic Japanese style Katana sword vibrated in response to the change in atmosphere around them. His seemingly cold gaze hiding a flow of consideration behind them as he looked upon the Daughter of Thanatos with a rather unpredictable expression. It was then, he looked forward and closed his eyes once more as if returning to a mediative state...All before he answers...

"...It is more than simply a matter of doubt. I simply do not believe that someone, who spends their time boasting, let alone relying on mere underlings to do their bidding rather than taking action themselves...could possibly be worthy of calling themselves a GOD. Weather she is a God or not is irrelevant to me...All that matters is finding the strength to do what one believes is the just cause...And since my final battle with my so--...Ahem...with...a young boy named Nero-" Vergil still found it difficult to call Nero his son...Not because he didn’t believe he was! he knew that for a fact now...That power, no longer relying on Yamato to draw forth Nero's inner Devil...that takes an emotional impact and strength Vergil had not thought possible...It is just...He found it rather odd...the idea of being a father had never crossed his mind, and further more....He had not expected to know Nero existed....

"-I had discovered a new reason to fight. This..."Goddess" that you are so fearful of...is next to NOTHING compared to what we had fought. Demons with power beyond Godhood had tried to wipe us away from the maps of history for as LONG as Dante and I could remember...and yet...HERE we stand. She does not fight us, she does not confront us face to face...She is simply watching, letting her PETS do her battles FOR her...someone without any warriors honour is not WORTHY of my respect, nor my acknowledgement...Especially someone who so happens to be a GOD." Vergil spoke in a tone that would suggest he had been...at the mercy of someone who had the powers of a God...Mundus was the ruler of Hell! a powerful Demonic king that had been on the throne for 12'000 years. He went by the names of all SEVEN SINS and shared all of his names with powerful Demons who would serve him. Mundus was the embodiment of Hells will, the very evils that manifest his entire physical visage...His wisdom, power and unhinged cruelty was what made him the most terrifying of ALL Demons...And why Vergil HATED him the most, especially after--...

"Now...was there anything else, Or have you more to ask of me?..."

@devil-hunter66

River's wings felt heavy as the half-blood soar over Tartarus. She followed the river Acheron until she reached it. The crack in the ground where the water had been draining.

The half-blood just wanted a normal summer vacation at camp half-blood. Of course, that wasn't going to happen. The underworld at some point had been thrown into chaos, creatures from Tartarus finding a way to flee and raise hell upon the rest of hades. Now it was up to her to figure out the issue.

"Alright. Father said this should be the way to hell." The half-blood check to make sure she had everything one last time. Rations? Check. Nectar? Check. Tools to maintain her prosthetic if it gets damage? Check. Weapon? Check. River took a deep breath and dived bomb down into the crack to hell. The quest prophecy ringing in her head.

She wasn't sure how far she was falling, or for how long. But eventually the air change. She opened her eyes to find herself in the demon world. Hell. "Okay..." She landed on the ground. "Now, how the hell do I find who I need to?" River said to herself.

With no better answer, she began walking deeper into hell. Keeping her scythe in it's cube form. But a hand around it just in case. She wasn't sure how long she had been walking, but it was at least felt like a few hours, until she finally found something else down here.

[yanderslutt]

CHERRY ˚₊ · »-♡→ CHROLLO X YAN! READER X HISOKA

prologue: I was just a lonely art student with red ink on my fingers and a thesis about hero ethics—until I met him. Professor Chrollo Lucilfer: velvet voice, scripture smile, and a mind sharp enough to cut me open. I should’ve stopped when the sketches turned into sculptures. When I started bleeding into my work—literally. But I kept going. Because I wanted him to see me. To remember me. But I forgot one thing. Hisoka. My ex-lover. My first sin. The one who left bite marks and came back with a grin. He sees what I’m becoming. He says it’s beautiful. Now they both want me. And I’m not sure who I’ll destroy first.

🍷 red ribbons. cherry juice. obsession like art. 🎀 welcome to my descent.

˖°࿐ •⁀➷

Chapter 1 - ˚₊ · »-♡→ Cherry

The first time you see him, he’s not standing at the podium. He’s sitting. Legs crossed. Elbow resting on the edge of the desk like it belongs to him—because it does.

Chrollo Lucilfer is already halfway through a paragraph when you walk into lecture ten minutes late, red ink still drying on your wrist where you scrawled today’s date.

“Art,” he says, voice low and unhurried, “is not a means of expression. It is a negotiation between mortality and meaning. The artist dies; the art persists. But that persistence is rarely honest. It’s curated memory. A fabrication of truth.”

Your pulse stutters.

There’s a stillness in the room you’ve never seen in any other lecture. Not even during midterms. Heads tilted. Fingers frozen above keyboards. No one dares interrupt. Even the TA sits silently in the corner, as if he’s the student.

You slip into your seat near the back and slide your sketchbook from your bag. Not your notebook. Not your laptop. You’re not sure why. Maybe it’s the way he speaks—slow, deliberate, like each word was etched into his tongue with a scalpel.

“I won’t waste your time with rubrics and requirements,” he continues, flipping closed the book he’d been reading from—The Ethics of Aesthetic Violence by D. Heller. You know the cover. It’s been on your shelf since freshman year.

“If you're here, it’s because you want to dismantle illusions. That, or you're scared of the world outside the gallery.”

Your pen trembles. You pretend to sketch the sleeve of his coat. But you’re drawing his hands. Long fingers. Silver ring on the index. The only thing that gleams in the dim lecture hall.

Chrollo Lucilfer. Visiting professor. Guest lecturer from the Aurelius Institute of Metaphysical Ethics. Teaching only one seminar: “Art, Death, and the Self: Postmodernism in Heroic Society.”

You’d signed up on a whim.

You thought it would be academic. Abstract. Another self-indulgent course designed for students who liked hearing themselves speak.

You didn’t expect him.

By the second class, you know his routine. He always arrives early. Wipes down the podium himself. Brings his own chalk, even though no one uses the blackboards anymore. He writes the lecture title in cursive.

Today’s:

“Obsession As Authenticity: Creation in the Wake of Destruction.”

You nearly drop your pencil.

He opens with a quote by Nietzsche, then segues into Marina Abramović. Discusses beauty in brutality. The ethics of performance. The boundaries between creation and suffering. Students are squirming. Some scoff. A few drop the class after the first week.

But not you.

You hang on every word.

“Pain is not theatrical if the blood is real,” he says, watching the class. Watching you. “And devotion, my dears, is not obsession—unless it becomes art.”

“If love is a form of control,” Chrollo muses from the podium, “then obsession is simply… commitment without a leash.”

The class stirs. The sound of her voice causes waves of chills in your spine. Your eyes slightly widen as a confused expression comes over your face.

“You disagree?” he asks the room. Silence. Then his eyes cut toward you. “Y/N?”

Your throat tightens. He never calls on people. He just speaks and lets you drown in it.

You meet his gaze. “Obsession implies surrender. Love is… mutual.”

“Is it?” His head tilts. “Or do we only believe in mutuality because we want to be consumed at the same rate we devour?”

Your lips part. “That sounds like fear talking.”

He smiles. Slowly. “No, Miss Y/N. That sounds like truth.”

You don’t blink. You are confused by the sudden interaction between the two of you. This is the first time you meet him and yet you are captivated by his words and the sound of his voice. Sweet yet deadly.

You start researching him. Not in a normal way.

You call it “thesis research” when your roommate asks why you’re in the library until 3 a.m., elbows deep in philosophy journals. You tell her it’s for your senior project—something about Applied Ethics & Heroic Society Studies. Technically true. But that’s not why your fingers twitch when you find an old photo of Chrollo at a gallery in Prague, standing beside a wax figure of himself with a gash through the chest.

“Existence is performance,” the quote beneath it reads. “Immortality is found only in interpretation.”

He’s not just a professor. He’s a philosopher-artist. He’s been teaching under aliases for years, leaving behind cult-like fanbases in every institution. Some call him a genius. Others, a manipulator. There are rumors he once dated a student who disappeared mid-semester. Nothing confirmed.

You save everything.

Every blurry panel discussion. Every review of his exhibits. You print out a short essay he wrote titled “The Artist as a Corpse” and annotate it in red ink, circling phrases like “sacrificial muse” and “emotional vivisection.”

It gets worse after the third lecture.

That’s when he learns your name officially. You can tell by the way he said it the first time. When he says it again… its almost like the sound of honey falling down his tongue. Fuck.

You stay after class. Pretend to ask about the reading, but really you just want to hear him talk. Up close. His voice is worse in person. Like velvet dragged over a blade.

He looks at your sketchbook—open to a rough study of his profile. You try to close it, but he stops you.

“That’s me.”

Your mouth goes dry. “Sorry. I—I draw during lectures. It helps me focus.”

“You’ve captured something raw. Even the way you drew my ring.. I am excited to see what else you bring to my class.”

“It’s unfinished,” you stammer. “Good.” He tilts his head. “Unfinished art is honest. Before the ego polishes it into fiction.”

You nod. You don’t know what you’re agreeing with. You don’t care.

“I look forward to your thesis. Surprise me.”

You float home.

From that day on, he becomes your focus. Your only focus.

You stop drawing anything else. You tell yourself it’s research—embodiment, muse studies, metaphysical ethics—but your studio fills with images of him.

Charcoal outlines of his collarbone. Sculptures made from wax and cherrywood. A miniature bust, carved from soapstone, buried in a velvet box beneath your bed.

You’re not eating as much. You’re not sleeping.

Your professors think you’re evolving. They praise your new work for its “visceral intimacy.” Your advisor says she’s never seen you more inspired.

But you’re not inspired. You’re unraveling.

One night, he plays music before lecture.

Just once.

You arrive early—your first time—and he’s there already. Leaning back against the desk, flipping through a book. A low melody drifts through the room.

Your heart stops.

He looks at you. Smiles.

“Beautiful choice, isn’t it?”

You nod, unable to speak.

You’ll remember this moment forever.

After class, you stay behind again.

He doesn’t stop you this time. Doesn’t speak. Just watches—as you approach his desk and set the small glass jar down between you.

A collection of dark, glistening cherries. Their stems still wet.

“I picked them for you,” you say, voice softer than you intended. Your hands tremble, but his gaze never leaves yours.

“Do you have a garden?” he asks, lifting the jar—deliberate, unhurried—and setting it gently back down like something sacred.

“Yes,” you nod. “Just a small one… on the balcony of my apartment.”

He selects a single cherry and brings it to his lips. You hold your breath.

He bites.

Juice spills across his lower lip like wine. He doesn’t wipe it. Just lets it linger there.

“They’re sweet,” he murmurs, voice velvet-wrapped and low, his tongue catching the last of the juice.

You swallow.

“Thank you,” you manage. “Have a great rest of your day, Professor Lucilfer.”

His smile curves slow and knowing. Not surprise. Not gratitude.

Recognition. As if he’s been waiting for you to bring him something red.

He picks it up. Turns it in his fingers. Then bites again.

The juice stains his lips red.

You exit the hall breathless. Skin flushed. Heart pulsing like you’ve just confessed a crime.

You think you're alone.

“Still bleeding red for the wrong man, huh?”

The voice is silk. Too familiar.

You freeze. Turn.

Hisoka.

He leans against the stairwell wall like he never left. Same grin. Same wild eyes. Like he never watched you walk away six months ago. Like he never broke your ribs and kissed the bruise afterward.

“You look good,” he says, pushing off the wall. “Still got that twitch in your eye when you're turned on.”

You step back.

He follows. Not touching. Just hovering—always a breath too close.

“You’re wasting it on him, you know.” “Go away.” “I will. But not before I ask…” He leans in. His breath brushes your cheek. “Did he even thank you for the cherries?”

Your throat tightens.

He chuckles. “Didn’t think so.”

He disappears before you can scream. Or chase him. Or kiss him. You don’t know which one scares you more.

[numberonekrisfan6453]

Theory on why Kris is working for Carol or/and the Knight and that Noelles growing a soul + alotta evidence and extra theories to that

So based on what we see in Undertale, when a monster gets a human soul they turn into a very powerful being. When Asriel gets it, they turn into the God of Hyperdeath but is also known as an "Angel".

My overall theory is that Kris is working against the soul so they can get rid of the soul and instead, give the soul to Dess. Im unsure if its whether to save her or Carol is planning something for her, but it would make alot of sense since Kris is actively working against us but doesnt want to hurt others.

But thats in only in what im expecting the main route. In the weird route, instead Noelle is the one who turns into an angel. This is already heavily reference because of her angel wings n stuff.

Also im not sure where this info came from it was either in the sweepstakes or when Noelle joins your party but she says when she was younger her and Dess would do snow angels, but Dess would go to Noelle and make her wings bigger. Which plays part of this.

Its also very popularly theorized that Noelle is growing a soul. I also believe in this theory because in the original scene, it shows a flower deflowering. And no its not sa, but literal deflowering and harvesting a fruit. This is why Kris is also represented by an apple, because they also started harvesting a soul somewhere in their life.

Deeper in this theory, I believe you can grow a powerful soul by killing darkners. This ones abit iffy but hear me out. Its very heavily implied that Kris didnt always have a soul(or atleast one that controls them), and when they were younger they werent possessed.

In chapter 4 egg room we learn Kris used to do art therapy, and when they enter the class they describe their painting as them trying to draw something over and over again till they finally get it without realizing but it only ended up as a smear. Then, they paint a tree over it, "leaving nothing but a simple still life". Finally it said "But their hand, still smudged with graphite... was still moving, as if to trace some unknown shape".

I believe Kris had some violent tendancies when they were young, it is implied multiple times by the man behind the tree. But this dialogue is symbolizing it and how they grew the soul.

I believe this because the dialogue is very much like how Noelle is in snowgrave while defeating enemies, Specifically in chapter two it correlates to the dialogue.

'They draw, over and over again above the lines. Their movements became faster and smoother, until without looking, they completed the drawing. '

Where Noelle freezed people, over and over again, becoming stronger and bolder. Until she suddenly learned a spell she did not know, and put Berdly in a snowgrave.

then, "Leaving nothing but a still life" talking about a tree. This one is also a slight hear me out but what if the tree is an apple tree. The tree is representative of the trapped body, bearing fruit.

Theres also the question of how did Kris grow a soul if my theory is that its based on killing darkners.

What if Kris has already knew about the dark world from the start. Although theres not much evidence, theres a few hints like how Kris already has a save point in the darkworld, they back away further than Susie when they first see it, and if they knew the prophecy from the start thats why they were never afraid of Susie and knows already what to do.

My theory is that Kris has always been violent, thats why they had to go to therapy cause of it. When they moved to hometown, they instead used the dark world to output those tendancies. But this turned into them growing a soul and possibly entrapping Dess in the dark world, accidentally making a "darker than dark" since they could never fully seal a dark fountain.

I also have a theory that both Susie and Noelle are "the girl" from the Prophecy, ive already yapped too much but notice how it says

"second, the girl" then, "And last, was the girl. At last, was the girl."

That part just seems weird to me because in order, it says "Third the dark prince" meaning the girl cant be last ??

and also if it said "Love finds its way to the girl."

love, meaning "Level of violence" in undertale, it would go with the theory that Noelle is supposedly the angel in the prophecy

also another thing that helps with that is the Knight is trying to stop us from fufilling the prophecy, meaning that Carol is too, and also Kris. In the regular route they'll find another way, but in the snowgrave route they are going towards the prophecy because of Noelle becoming an angel.

+ One last theory, Dess is stuck in a dark fountain. She cant go back because she doesnt have a soul

This still has many holes in it, like its never backed up in undertale that Monsters can grow human souls, or the last part if Kris didnt have a soul there no known way to get out of the dark world. But I think tis still pretty solid especially how each evidence kept on making me go into a rabbit hole of more theories connecting to one another

[lightcurse2end]

Now Playing: ___

Warning: Mentions of Dying Thoughts.

I didn’t want to die. Well, before anyways.

It wasn’t something that just came to me. It built up. 

“So I suggest you don't do anything stupid this time.”

“Ignore the fool. He's apparently just that stupid. I'm surprised he's even survived this long.”

“You’re stupid at times, you don’t think before you act, and you always seem to get yourself into trouble.”

“Fuck off and go hang out with your real friends.”

“That really, you've been toying with a grieving woman's heart who can't get over her dead fucking partner, all because you're a selfish shithead who is obsessed with this bubbling idea of a relationship? Fuck you.”

I’m not stupid. At least, I don’t think so?

I try my best to think, to understand but It always ends up the same.

Why do I even do this? It only really hurts others in the end.

Koji laid on the floor of his room, back against his bed frame and the rest of his body curled up slightly, the sketchbook right in his line of sight, open to one of the more recent pages.

Drawings of the Raymond he saw. The one in his dream that one night. He thought he would go away, once he let go. Instead, they got worse.

Raymond was everywhere now. Not just in his dreams. Following him, talking to him. He sounded distant sometimes. Koji forgot how he sounded.

Some nights, he saw his version of Ray. The small one that would follow him around instead, not saying anything but just staring. When he did talk, it was clear. Concise.

Raymond? Unnerving. Those same eyes, staring him down. He followed him but was always behind him. He could feel those eyes staring him down, even now, from the man 

“…go away.” Koji mumbled, ripping out one of the Moon drawings. 

“Why?”

The voice was distorted. Sounding more like a recording of a distant memory. 

“Because.” 

He ripped another page out.

“I don’t wanna talk to you.”

Another, this time of Raymond.

“Ever again.”

Raymond watched him, the red eyes tracking every single movement he made. But, he stayed silent.

Koji continued to rip out the pages, growing more agitated with each one. Eventually, after all of his friends were ripped out, he turned the page and paused.

The drawings of Aveira he had made a while ago. Most of them were scribbled out, due to them not being “perfect” enough or not capturing her beauty in the right way.

The door opened and he looked up, spotting Kei, hesitating at the door.

“…Nagata?”

He just stared.

Kei went over, sitting down in the exact spot Raymond was, causing the pale one to disappear. He stared at him and the balled up pages around him.

“…Jade said you were ignoring her. I wanted to check on you.”

‘So, he’s just here as a messenger. He was probably forced by Jade to come.’

“I’m fine. Just not feeling up to calling right now.”

He ripped out the Aveira page.

“….You haven’t been acting right for…a while now.” Kei narrowed his eyes. “Did you cut your hair?”

Koji lazily glanced up at him.

"You've been an asshole to everyone recently. Even Mom. And she's just trying to reach out to you."

Koji stared at the blank page of the notebook, Kei's words dying before they reached his ears. All of the pages were gone.

It was all gone.

He stood without a word, gathering the balled up pieces of paper and heading over to the trash, dumping them in and staring at the pile for a minute before closing it.

Kei paused his rant, watching Koji's slumped and automated actions.

It wouldn't be stretching it if he said that the man wasn't okay. He wouldn't be worried if it started quickly, but Koji had been acting like this when they met. And everywhere he went, they'd always say he was acting "unlike himself" or "weird". Even when their mother had tried to get him to stay for dinner, he replied harshly and declined, saying he was busy.

Was he really?

"Kei."

He looked over at the mention of his name, finding Koji now at the door. He quickly got up, following the man.

Part 2 will be on Kei's account.

[teaboot]

Saw the ask about autism and ADHD imagination and got curious about this:

Cause I have both, and got a thing where an image or a scene come all rendered out, like 3D Blender animation, you know? All in my mind, with colors and shades and like details, and if I'm imagining a scene, it gets really interesting to imagine it, because to me, I don't even need to close my eyes, I just render that picture in my mind. It's both a blessing and a curse as a creative writer, because I can actually see the scenes I'm making, even if in my mind, but also hard - because I know how I want them to be, and translating that to paper is difficult.

But that's also the thing why I can't meditate the way most people do: cause my brain doesn't do words or thoughts I need to clear out, it does renditions, so achieving quiet mind requires any and all thought process to stop - which, as you could guess, is largely impossible. The solution? Meditation in movement, because if my brain is too busy processing the 3D of the world outside, it can't load the picture inside the mind 👌one task at a time, brain said

That is SO wild bruh

I get similar things- like if I turn off one level, another will start up, or a different image or memory will get in the way, but it’s not 3D images, it’s more like … awareness of distance and depth with no images included, or pictures that are only as detailed as I’m able to draw, with blank spaces where I don’t fully remember

For ME, I meditate by finding a comfortable place to sit and following each line of thought until there’s nothing left to think about. If I have an upsetting thought, I follow it and unpack it until there’s nothing more to unpack- and when I can’t think of anything else to think about, focus on the physical sensations in my body starting at the top of my head and working my way out to my hands and feet. Then it’s all kind of… I don’t know, non-linear? Like if I can hear music playing somewhere, I can’t really recognize the song, or it takes a while to notice it IS music, because in each instant it’s just one sound existing at a time independent of the next. No previous, no next, only “now”.

Feels good. Feels like taking a shower you didn’t realize you needed.

How would you describe your process? Meditation through movement isn’t something I’d heard of or considered before and I’m curious of how it works for you! And what frame of mind to you aim to achieve ? My own goal is usually just to de-clutter or manage overstimulation. And do you ever “run out” of images? How do you meditate without losing focus?

Hit me upppppp

(if you want to or have time, I mean. No pressure)

[blaithnne]

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