#unfortunately its sensory hell

[ethosiab]

ethos got the right idea actually. the most dysphoria inducing part of my appearance is my face and if i could just cover it up all the time itd be great.

[boimgfrog]

my problem is I love wearing necklaces and bracelets but I never remember to put them on every day for work so INSTEAD I bought some cheap necklaces and bracelets that I wear 24/7 even in the shower even to bed. and now I always feel cute and pretty and it takes legitimately zero effort

[monstersdownthepath]

Milestone Monster: Watchers of Jandelay

CR 22

Lawful Neutral Gargantuan Outsider

Planar Adventures, pg. 246-247

Have you ever felt like you were being watched, even though you were certain you were alone? Have you ever felt like something was terribly wrong even though you couldn’t place why? Then you may have some form of anxiety and/or paranoia, I’m afraid. Unless you’re in the Pathfinder universe, where a sense of something staring at you from some unseen direction or a vague feeling of doom is a fairly good sign you’re being stalked by a Fey, or some form of Undead, or any number of fiends. You’re lucky in some ways if it turns out to be one of these 30-foot-tall insects instead, but unlucky in significantly more important ways. 

The Watchers are the primary keepers of the infinitely mysterious Jandelay, a bead of order floating within the endless chaos of the Maelstrom. Knowledge of this unusual demiplane is basically nonexistent on Golarion but for a strange poem carved into the base of a thousand-foot-tall tower called the Spindlethorn, meaning that if any of THESE creatures show up, it’s very likely that no one on the planet will know what the hell it means. Unfortunately for everyone involved, their presence typically means that the world on which they’re spotted is about to end, all life on it to be wiped out by an apocalyptic calamity which can rarely be averted. They’re not the cause, merely a symptom; they’re observers called to a doomed world to witness its end, recording and collecting what they can before its history and uniqueness are lost forever.

Perhaps as a form of mercy for the doomed world, the inhabitants don’t really have to deal with 30-foot-tall spiders suddenly appearing and gazing dispassionately at them. Rather, Watchers of Jandelay have the unnerving ability to become completely Inconspicuous, fading entirely from all senses if an onlooker fails a DC 28 Will save the first time each day they’d observe one of them. If that save is failed, that creature simply cannot be made to see or hear that Watcher with any of its senses for 24 entire hours, unless it’s forced to touch one by someone who succeeded (or the Watcher, for whatever reason, touches it). This Inconspicuous ability is a mind-affecting effect, so any creature immune to them can see a Watcher perfectly, which I’m sure will have no effect on their mental health whatsoever.

Even if a creature can see it, though, that’s no guarantee they’ll be able to interact with it. Once per day, a Watcher can Phase Shift out of local reality entirely, appearing to all the world as ghostly, transparent shapes that are entirely untouchable, something they use to minimize their potential impact to a world (and also avoid being caught in whatever calamity is about to befall it). A creature able to see one (or even multiple) will not only have to convince their allies that the Watchers are even THERE, but that they’re living beings rather than some kind of illusion or hallucination. Depending on if the apocalypse is in full swing or not, they could be entirely dismissed as some harmless but disquieting magical anomaly or trickery, which suits them just fine. The fewer creatures that perceive them, the fewer opportunities there are for something to go wrong with their work.

When a Watcher arrives on a world, it has two duties: Observation and preservation. Assisting the former is their singular, gigantic eye, a sensory organ so impossibly complex and powerful that comparing it at all to your pathetic human eyes is like comparing a lit match to the light of the sun. A Watcher’s eyesight is unmatched due to its Perfect Observation, recording all sensory information in a memory that never fades or corrupts unless tampered with by an outside source. They also are always treated as rolling a natural 20 on ALL vision-based Perception checks regardless of any possible intervening factors... which means that they’re always treated as having a 71 Perception, a number that may as well be an infinity sign! They’re outright immune to being blinded or dazed, and with 120ft of Blindsight, See In Darkness, and True Sight besides, it’s safe to say that the only way you’re hiding from a Watcher’s eyesight is with good old cover and concealment.

Aiding in their efforts for preservation is their ability to erect Beacons of Jandelay, six-foot-tall pillars of pale yellow energy that designate their surrounding environment as worth keeping. Jandelay, the realm of emerald fields and alabaster spires, is actually something of an archive and a museum in one, keeping records and collected remnants of worlds and civilizations destroyed by calamity. Any stretch of land marked by a Beacon of Jandelay is transported to the demiplane and knit together with one another, magically preserved for review by the Watchers and any visitor that manages to reach the plane. Because these beacons are so important, they’re typically built out of phase with reality, where they can still function but cannot be interacted with. Dimension Anchor or any similar spell that bars interplanar travel can cause a phased-out beacon (or even a phased-out Watcher) back into reality, but doing so can be dangerous, because interacting with or ESPECIALLY causing damage to a beacon will summon a Watcher to investigate; they always arrive on target with their at-will Plane Shift or 3/day Quickened Teleport if their destination is near a beacon! And once they’re there, they have ways to very, very quickly deal with interlopers.

At their base, being Full-Attacked by a Watcher can end a battle as soon as it starts. Their unique version of Air Walk allows their body to remain fixed in space even as their limbs are occupied, meaning they can swat an annoyance with all six of their limbs without risking falling over. That means upwards to six 2d8+10 shots from claws that crit on a 19 or 20! And with a 20ft space but a 30ft reach, having one suddenly appear in the midst of your party (either because it teleported there or because the party finally noticed it) means you’re likely stuck there as it Full-Attacks every round. 

Thankfully, Watchers rarely fight to kill... because, oftentimes, they literally can’t kill their targets before the targets are permanently neutralized via their Stasis. Being hit by a single claw forces a DC 28 Will save to avoid being slowed (as the spell), and any creature that’s already slowed has to make a DC 28 Fortitude save or be permanently frozen in time. This works exactly like Temporal Stasis; the victim cannot take actions, cannot be harmed or targeted by anything, and cannot be moved from whatever spot they were frozen on This stasis can only be ended if it’s dispelled, if the Watcher that caused it is slain, or if the Watcher and frozen target are no longer on the same plane as one another... which typically means the unfortunate victims are often frozen right up until whatever calamity the Watchers came to watch is wracking the planet. They snap out of their stasis just as the world ends around them.

Being able to force upwards to six Save-or-Suck effects a round with no per-day limit or 24-hour immunity clause is really all a Watcher needs to handle most threats. There’s basically no creature that resists the Stasis effect, and the only way to avoid it entirely is to dispel the Slow effect each time it’s applied (or, more realistically, bolster the target’s Will save beyond 28)... though it’s a little ambiguous if this ability would have any effect on a creature under the effects of Freedom of Movement, which allows a creature to move normally even while under the effects of Slow, but Stasis doesn’t CARE of a creature is actually affected by the Slow, only that the effect is there in the first place. Make sure you think about this before sending one after your players! And make sure you have a way out in case they all fail! Like, perhaps, the Watcher has sustained too many injuries (though players would have to get past its DR 15 and Regeneration 15, both requiring Chaotic sources) and has to Plane Shift away to recover, which frees everyone held at once to regroup.

Anyway, back on track: the six natural attacks are typically all a Watcher needs in its day to day life, but those are by no means the only weapon in its arsenal. Oh no, you wish it was. As witnesses to countless calamities, Watchers have absorbed some of the resulting destructive energy to become mobile armageddons all on their own, to a degree that feels almost unnecessary! I mean, they have Control Weather and Telekinesis at-will, which is already great for causing chaos... But then there’s their 3/days: Whirlwind, Call Lightning Storm, Sirocco, Vortex, and Earthquake. THREE TIMES A DAY, EACH! If stirred sufficiently to action, a Watcher can obliterate not just an adventuring party, but the entire city around them if it needs to, bending the laws of nature to their whim and will with all the power of an angry demigod.

And that’s before we look at their 1/days. The combat applications for Time Stop and Meteor Swarm are plenty, but why do they also need Storm of Vengeance and Tsunami? My personal guess is to create distractions for anyone trying to stop the coming end times.

Uniquely and frighteningly, Watchers will move to intervene against any group of creatures that stand a good chance of stopping whatever apocalypse is about to unfold, each one guided by whatever strange intelligence that lays within Jandelay... or perhaps guided by sunk cost fallacy. They’re already here and already set up, and now it’s not going to happen? Boooooo! It’s unclear why they’re motivated to fight against any attempt to avert a world’s fate that seems poised to succeed, but whatever the case may be, it’s certainly convenient for a DM that wants to test their luck and their player’s patience with these aliens from one of the strangest planes in all of Pathfinder.

You can read more about them here.

[rroechan]

The Thorny Spider

spidersona-ish-more-like-oc

'Flying Devil'? 'Spider from Hell'? That's just your terrifying friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man on the prowl!

lots of yapping below

Super late for the spiderverse trend but i've been reading an unfortunate amount of peter parker fics and i couldn't help but pull this guy up from memory

Spider-Thorn? Horned Spider? Spider-Fiend?

His name is Piers Lang, born and raised to kick your ass. With both parents dead at the ripe age of 8, kiddo found himself going from his home in M'sia to living with his aunt and uncle all the way in USA 🫡🦅🇺🇸

Abilities

his abilities are about the same as OG spiderman, like spider-proportional strength, speed, stickiness etc etc. There's only one thing that's vastly different from the others is his enhanced senses

So like, enhanced hearing, scent, that sort of thing. If it was already bad for Peter in his day to dau life, imagine what this guy's goin' through

due to a mix of nature and nuture, his senses, particularly his sorta 'area awareness' is higher than the average spidey

He grew up with terrible vision and in a rough neighbourhood so his senses has always been fairly attuned to his surroundings. A bit like a 6th sense or a natural instinct one would naturally gain over time. The bite basically strengthened all these features except his eyesight (most spider species have poor eyesight. only some have it good. i thought that was funny)

that scene in spider-man: far from home where spidey relies entirely on his spider sense to fight mysterio's drones? Yeah THAT but 10 fold

even when totally blinded, he can use this specific ability to make like a fully 3d mental map of the area around him. Basically seeing everything around him 360 with his eyes closed. So he can fully fight no issue in the dark (basically Daredevil's radar sense)

sometimes he purposely fights with eyes closed cause it helps prevent him from being overwhelmed (even pre-bite he had issues with sensory overloads)

For the hearing and smelling, i tried to see if OG spiderman had any upper limit at all to the distance of his abilities but there's nothing solid :// My guy in particular, I like to think there's no true limit to his sense, like he could track a whole city of people if he wanted but he'd have to be meditating and in a super focused state to do so + overuse of his senses makes his head hurt a lot

Out of the suit, he has a habit of wearing earplugs or earphones constantly playing some genre of white noise. And some strong smelling balm on his upper lip (idk whats the actual english name of it)

Aside from that, he has a few spidery traits (got the idea from a fic, no I do not remember what its name is). The spider he was bitten by had all sorts of different spider dna weaved into it.

He sometimes chirps or purrs when in a good mood or just, when he's comfortable enough to not hide his spidery traits. Has stare offs with actual spiders for dominance. Absurdly flexibles and can get into wild contortionist-like poses and calls them comfortable. Likes smoothies. Gets sleepy when cold. Salvatory glands produce a very mild venom. Yada yada

About the suit

He didn't design it, his man-in-the-chair did. Though he did do all the wiring, engineering etc and was the one who suggested to base the suit design off an orb weaver spider

The red of his suit glows with exposure to UV. Adding on the fact that he mainly patrols at night makes it worse for baddies because imagine you're in the middle of crime-ing and from out the darkness, Satan himself comes to be your reckoning.

The suit being majority black adds the challenge of making sure his poses are readable so that's Fun.

of his 8 'eyes' only 2 of them actually function which are the main ones in the upper front. the others are for show.

The horns are where all the business is at. They all have a solid exterior so he fully can use em to shoulder check, headbutt, etc baddies but their main purpose is to act as antennas. Both for his comms so he can go super long distances without worry as well as help hone and focus his senses to his surrounding area

See, usually his senses is like a motion detector but across a super big area so without earplugs and the smelling balm, his senses are extremely scattered and kinda blurred.

He figured out fairly quick that with antennas connected to his main 'sensory points' on his body help focus his senses to his immediate area instead of being fragmented (does this make sense? im fully bullshitting at this point)

Not illustrated but under the suit he has this network of connected patches (like those they put on you during surgery) to track his stats and junk alongside the whole spidey sense honing thing

Moving on, the spider on the back of his head is actually a later addition cause ppl keep thinking he's supposed to be a demon (him not realising ppl aren't entomology nerds like him)

The spikes on his knuckles are purely for combat and is entirely inspired by his favourite sonic character: Knuckles.

The baggy pants, body suit and hood are all one piece. Only the mask and the utility belt are removable

The whole front of the mask is a solid piece under the fabric. So he can't fold the mask halfway up to his nose and kiss someone upside-down but he can remove one of the lower eye panel thing to eat or drink if he needs to.

the utility belt mostly has his burner phone, zipties, few first aid necessities and cereal bars

I wanted to add a brief telling of his backstory here as well as his ascociation to the spiderverse gang but this post is long enough orz

Ill definitely post abt this guy again though, that's for sure. I'm more a manga fan but I have some plans on mimicking american comics style for some 'fake' comic pages for this guy and his main villain

[whumpbug]

favorite: Does your OC have a favorite article of clothing or accessory? What is it? What's the meaning behind it? Do they wear it all the time or do they wear it sparingly to keep it safe?

change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

alternate: What would your OC's alternate universe look be? If they're a fantasy character, what's their modern look? If they're sci-fi, what's their fantasy look? What AU would you want to see your OC in, and how would they dress themself? Bonus: Prompt an AU! i don’t remember if you’ve done any of these??? skdfjhsdkhfs,,, and hell yeah aus i think are often great insight to a character’s personality and looks since things can change/not change + change as a concept itself is SO good

HIIIII MELLO THESE ARE SO FUN

answers under the cut as always (≧▽≦)

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favorite: does your oc have a favorite article of clothing or accessory?

simon:

simon isn't really an accessory person, the only little extra thing he has is his piercing, but he has a Large Collection of knit sweaters. they're his comfort item. you really can't go wrong with a good, oversized knit sweater. so its not a specific article of clothing, but rather a Genre. when he's thrifting, the moment he sees a sweater in his size it's going in the cart. no questions asked.

archie:

archie has 2. one is his darth vader pajama pants that he's mended about 5 different times because they're THAT comfy. he loves them SO much. the second thing is a little a small little navy bracelet that simon got him one time when he visited some family in el salvador. its a braided pattern with pull-strings to tighten it and archie LOVES it. he is ALWAYS wearing it. even when he's out as vigil, he just tucks it into the sleeve of his jumpsuit so he can't be recognized and stuff. it was one of the first gifts archie gave to him. it is So Special

gene:

for gene, it has to be the necklace the wears with his mother's ring. its become something of a fidget too, when he's nervous. he wears it near his heart and whenever he's stressed, his hands instinctively go to find it, just to calm himself down. it's a little like having sylvia there for him again. its very comforting.

cassidy:

i touched on it in this post BUT for cassidy, it's his pinch-front hat and the rings we wears. the hat was a gift from montana and unfortunately it means a great deal to cassidy (kys montana) but the rings hold a sense of accomplishment to cassidy. cassidy often wonders if what he's doing is right-- going around and robbing and killing isn't exactly the most respectable profession, but when he looks at his rings and thinks about the people he's taken down, he feels better about it. he knows theres a purpose to what hes doing.

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change: has your oc ever drastically changed their appearance?

I LOVE THIS ONE OKAY OKAY. disclaimer these are going to be mostly about hair.

simon:

so his hair is decently long now-- just a bit past his chin-- but it used to be much longer. when he was a junior in highschool, it was a few inches past his shoulders and it was Very healthy and luscious. he would usually wear it up in a ponytail or in a braided half-up-half-down situation, but he also wore it down pretty often. the reason it was so long was because he had Huge sensory issues with his neck like. touching the air. he hated the feeling of just being so exposed so he only got trims every few months. he cut it when he went to med school though because it was going to be much easier to manage. he misses his longer hair sometimes.

archie:

archie used to dye a little strip of his hair various colors!!! his favorite was pink. its just a little section in the front of his hair, a bit off to the left. this was when he was in highschool too and he really enjoyed it while he had it! the reason he had to dye it back to normal was because when he started going out as vigil, he realized that the vigil outfit doesn't cover his hair or head in anyway and he thought it would be too recognizable. like simon, he misses his little dyed hair sometimes and considers doing it again. luckily he is Very Blonde, so temporary dyes show up really well!

gene:

i think i vaguely mentioned it in the fic, but when he was little, he used to be much blonder and his hair was much longer. i think the time he changed the most was puberty tbh. when he was little, he looked just like sylvia-- soft, straight, blonde hair and big blue eyes and chubby, rosy cheeks-- but the older he got, the more clint started peeking through. his hair darkened to a dirty blonde/mousy brown and became courser, his jaw and cheekbones became more angular, and he got VERY tall very fast. the only thing that didn't really change were his eyes. they are still very blue and very reminiscent of his mother. as for how he feels about it, usually he's pretty neutral, but one time he was getting angry at some kid in the street for causing a commotion, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of a window and saw his father's angry face staring back at him. he did Not like that.

cassidy:

honestly, he is practically unrecognizable from his younger self. before montana found him, he was this skinny, gaunt, sick looking thing. truly skin and bones, but he still somehow looked young and innocent. now, he's filled out. he's toned and muscular, but the main difference? the mosaic of scars littering his body. some accidental, some not. there are many. the most prominent one is the one on his mouth that i draw him with a lot. that one was straight from montana after an especially hard fight when he was just 15. him at age 7 vs him now 20 years later are pretty much two different people, and more than just in the sense that he grew up. he isn't sure if he should be happy or concerned about that.

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alternate: what would your oc's alternate universe look be?

I LOVE THIS QUESTION. i'm going to paste my previous answer to it right here and here, but here also a few other aus that i haven't fleshed out but have definitely Thought about

royal au with gene and cassidy. JUST THINK ABOUT IT. cassidy as the prince under a corrupt king (montana) and gene as one of his guards. cassidy is a little mischevious prince whos constantly trying to escape and get into trouble, and gene is tasked with retieving him when he goes on his little escapades. imagine the pining. imagine the intimacy. JUST IMAGINE IT.

role-reversal with archie and simon. their personalities are exactly the same, but simon is vigil, and archie is the tired med student. i truly believe this au would just be archie BEGGING simon to come to him when hes injured and simon being like "it's fine. i can still walk." while actively bleeding from a gaping knife wound

FANTASY AU WITH EITHER OF THEM. admittedly i am not well versed in fantasy aus, but i LOVEEEE the aesthetic and whump potential. any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

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THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASKS MELLO THESE WERE SOOOOO FUN YIPPEE!!!!!

[fnaftalexreader]

lucifer relationship headcanons. gimme. rn. give. (please i beg)

Relationship headcanons for the boi himself! Lucifer x an unspecified reader!

All will be platonic, as Lucifer is canonically acearo in fnaftale.

Before the Fall

You are most likely a mortal of some kind he ran across, after running away from heaven

He thinks you're SOOOOOOO cool! (He also is very interested in every individual blade of grass, as he's never seen such things before-)

Bless his heart, he's stupid. Your friendship with him is a bunch of heart attacks-

"Hey, what's this thing?" *holds a knife DANGEROUSLY close to his face*

He is extremely oblivious, and innocent. The only thing that will keep him from hurting himself out of his stupidity or for his own amusement, will be your distraught face of horror or genuine sorrow.

He's only seen fear or sadness a few times, and it was mild. He's only felt fear and sorrow a few times in his very short life, and it was usually because of his father. He felt sad when his father burned his "imperfect" paintings, and he only felt fear when he angered him with his desire to play all the time.

At first, he'd be fascinated, and a little concerned over your care. Wondering why you're being really sad or really scared, when you haven't done anything wrong, or bad. You'll have to explain to him that you actually care about his well being, and you don't want him to be hurt.

Unfortunately, at this point of his life, pain is SO COOL! He doesn't feel much in general, as heaven isn't really stimulating. (Seriously, the inside of Caelum's palace makes white torture seem like decent interior design.) He was already fascinated by pain before he ran away. Flying into walls just to feel something other than constant mellow bliss. It was maddening for his creative mind.

He was a prototype angel, and that much is obvious when he's compared to his other siblings. While he shines brightly, he shines too bright. Literally, his name of Morningstar comes from the fact he becomes a purple, glittery flashbang when he's happy! He's also more childish, emotional, and intentionally ignorant. His father thought that would make for a more moldable tool, but it only proved to be a liability the longer lucifer was alive.

He'll try not to hurt himself around you, but he will pick fights with others to get that sensation. Hell, he might even fight you if you're willing to throw hands with him! He'd LOVE to fight you, but he'd let you win. He loves seeing people celebrate their victories.

He loves any sense of sensory, however. Hug him, snuggle him, cook food, play music, etc. He will ADORE you. You have pets? He LOVES animals, especially petting them. He's 15 feet tall, and his hands are almost bigger than you, but he has the precision of an artist. He's extremely gentle but very excitable with any new experience.

If you're ever cold, don't worry. He loves being cold, and his wings are warm. He'll gladly enjoy the cold air, while wrapping his wings around you like a fluffy blanket. Angel feathers are as soft as clouds, feeling like a mixture of silk and Maine Coon fur. They're really sensitive too, so if you pet them, he'll glow and giggle.

If you're friends with him for long enough for him to discover new forms of art, he'll most likely write a poem for you. Though it would be messy, and imperfect, with contradicting themes, but it would be about beauty in his mind. As everything he comes across is a wonderful thing.

"You are the ever changing breeze, the warmth of summer in your laughter, the cold of blizzards in your tears. You are the struggling fly in a web, and the widow that thrives by devouring it. You are the smell of fresh books, and the dust destined to cover them as you dance in my father's light. You are my blood, shining as you pour from my veins and the pain that comes with it, along with the knife responsible for the spill. An all consuming black hole, and a struggling star in its grasp. You are every wrinkle I have very counted, and every tiny hand that can't even grip my own. You are the parasites tearing at flesh, and the hero that slays it. You are everything I have met, and experienced, yet not the same at all. The beauty of the universe does not do you justice. You don't do it justice either. The beauty is undeniable though, like your soul."

If you cry over his way of saying he appreciates your existence, he'll try to burn the papers, to start from scratch, thinking that his work is imperfect. Stop him before he destroys more of his art-

You might be one of the first people that teach him about pride and self worth. Compliment the baby, he eats that shit UP-

He quite literally is a baby too. He may look like a muscular, large man. But he has pretty much zero experience in life. Baby stuff works on him. He will worship your key chain, jingle it. JINGLE IT DAMN YOU, LET THE BOI EXPERIENCE WONDER!

Personifying random objects will also work on him at this age, and it's a great way of keeping him in one spot. Tell him a rock looks sad and lonely, and he will sit with it for literal hours.

As the worst case of Sad Beige Mom, or in case: Dad. He needs colors. Paint with him. Paint his wings. He will love being as colorful as possible, and will become a literal beacon of purple light the more colorful you both are.

11/10, he'd be an amazing friend, just PLEASE stimulate him.

Time in Hell

Oh dear lord...

He's not the sweet baby boy he once was, and pain is no longer entertaining... his father, like with everything, ruined it.

If you're a sinner or a hellborn, he'll be much more openly kind. If you're a summoner, it would take a lot for him to show his true colors, as he acts "villainous" when summoned by mortals, in order to get food. Not for himself, but for his people.

Going with the sinner route, he'd most likely trick you out of the flames, if you're not a sinner for something stupid, like being of a different religion, or being a genuinely kind person that has no place in heaven.

If you're an actual sinner, the other demons will lie to you, saying that lucifer is foolish. While that is true to an extent, he isn't THAT stupid. They'll trick you into thinking that all demons are kind (they are), and that lucifer will think you're a demon that fell in the fires of hell and got all burned up if you ask nicely enough (he won't, but he'll play along. As he's done for centuries). Keep acting kind, and he'll continue thinking you're a demon and- Oh shit, you're redeemed as the kindness is a way for survival here! You need to care for others, so they care for you, and that's how you stay fed and sheltered here! Lucifer will eventually tell you the truth, that he was tricking you into becoming a kinder person, but he will give you a recent sacrifice or some fruit he managed to snag. As a peace offering, in case you get mad.

If you're a hellborn, you would call him Big Brother, as that is what demons call fallen angels. But he is THE Big Brother. The one who stood up to The Father. The whole reason why hell/Gehenna exists. And he'd adore you! No matter how tired, or how much pain he's in, or how worthless he feels, he'd make sure that your pain is always less than his. He'll make toys from animal skins and bones for you, make up stories to tell you, and will even sing you songs. His voice still as heavenly as an angel, his demonic voice always giving him a new and haunting way of making glorious melodies.

If you're a normal human that summoned him, it's going to take finding out about his kind nature, and coaxing him to show it to you. Think about httyd, and that's basically it. You are taming a large, scared person, that uses villainy to get what he wants (theatrical villainy, at least.) He is an antihero at the end of the day. Killing the deserving, threatening people to become better people, and refuses to harm children if he can help it.

But... what if you're a human child?

Then he is Luci, the Goat-Cat! He'll pretend to be your imaginary friend, to get close to you. To the youth that was beaten out of him... the innocence. He'll read you bedtime stories, play any game you desire, and even steal you away for the night to steal candy and ice cream from corporations. If your home is less than ideal, he will gladly eat your parents and take you to an orphanage. We won't leave your side, till you're either adopted, or too old to have an imaginary friend.

For more general headcanons/canons, here are some more things about him.

Cuddles do help with his episodes, grounding him into reality. After all, no one hugged him while all his friends were slaughtered in mass... it would break him out of it, albeit slowly.

He suffers from sever hallucinations, that would effect your friendship with him. Voices of people calling for help, flaming children, gusts of cold wind that aren't actually blowing... they only get worse and worse the more stressed and scared he gets, sometimes getting to the point where he is reliving his fall from grace, and the genocides that followed... over and over again.

He has the personality of a half drowned cat found in a wet bag of rocks beside a river, that somehow still has love and faith in humanity. He's a very tortured soul, in desperate need for love. He will not refuse cuddles, even if you're human. Just ask him first, and instantly you will have a giant, sad snoot in your arms.

He has a very brotherly way of treating those he cares about, ranging from gentle advice, to annoying the hell out of you with physical affection that denies you freedom.

"Oh no! It appears I have been cursed! Gravity weighs so heavy on me! Has Gaia returned, and angered with me?! She is pulling me. Down, heavily! I can't get up, what do you mean, I'm heavy?"

He also has extremely poor coping skills. He is cursed with worthlessness. He is the demon of pride, but he also has severe imposter's syndrome. Making him put other's above himself to an unhealthy degree

You hungry? Oh, then he will never eat and make sure you always have a meal! He doesn't deserve food, he's immortal anyways, not like starvation will kill him.

You tired? Oh, then he will refuse to sleep. Singing you lullabies that last hours, maybe even days to make sure your well rested. He doesn't deserve sleep, and again, he's immortal! It will only weaken and confuse him at worse. Not like not sleeping for your sake will kill him.

You in danger? He will attempt to sacrifice his life for you. Being immortal, he's a meat shield that will almost never falter. He's also very used to being a punching bag... so he can take several hits, a few.... billion arrows to the back (<- why I draw his back with so many scars. He canonically uses his back as a shield), swords through the heart... all he needs is his inspiration from the unyielding mortal spirit to keep you safe. His life doesn't matter, until he can be used as a tool, and he will use himself well.

This cripples him, however. The idea that he is undeserving of basic needs, makes him weaker in multiple ways, especially in the dark arts. He has the potential of being a powerful deity, one equal or even rivaling his father (to refinance Diablo, think Anu before tathamet was created. He and his siblings are capable of being on that level if they ACTUALLY FUCKING EAT-), but since he doesn't take care of himself, he can't even make a simple fireBall, let alone stand properly. Everything he does is out of force of will. His physical strength is nothing in comparison to his mental will. He's able to mask his pain almost perfectly, but will slip up with his words when he gets too comfortable.

Getting him to take care of himself will take WRESTLING and lots of guilt tripping. Cancel his guilt from over literal centuries, with more guilt over how awful he makes you feel over him not taking care of himself. Make him feel bad enough, he'll take a nap, and maybe eat a good meal. Do it enough, he might even get strong enough to do more for you! Which he will definitely do out of appreciation. He will use his reclaimed powers to give you feasts, riches, luxuries. Be careful to make sure he doesn't over exhaust his powers, and end up at square one again. He WILL spoil you, as no simple thank you will ever be enough for helping him regain some of his powers.

3/10 on the friend scale (what he would give himself at least- he is a 10/10, he lost one point because of how he hates himself, and uses his love for others as a backwards way to self harm)

After Ascension

This is the lucifer after his father's death, when he actually gets- *le gasp* medication and therapy!

He is much bigger, but is still able to become his 15 foot size. His new "normal" size however is a similar stature to his father: 165 feet. Though his true form is much, much bigger, able to cover entire planets. But he doesn't need to be that big to cover you in platonic kisses!

Very cuddly, very kissy, and very tired-

He has to deal with his 7,560,000 angelic siblings that have mentally regressed to that of really fucked up toddlers with homicidal tendencies, due to how many years they've been braindead, and forced to slaughter billions upon billions of demons.

But lucifer always finds time to listen to prayers and woes, and treats every word seriously... at times, too seriously. He literally has prayers and requests written down, filed, and he painstakingly goes through every file to make sure each prayer is answered.

If you are a mortal that worships, or is friends with lucifer you are welcomed to watch him work, which will just be him getting stopped from doing his paperwork every five seconds to pry tidepods and/or rats from his siblings mouths.

He gets super fat from finally eating consistent meals, and he grows thick fur and wool that is super soft. He also makes sure he's constantly cleaned, so he almost always smells like fresh lavender and figs.

Still won't complain about cuddles, but this time you don't need to ask! Go ahead and hug him, he'd always be there for you, unlike his useless father...

He'll cook you meals, and give you fresh clothes made from his own wool. It's strong too, so a sweater from lucifer can work as armor! It's also fireproof, many wins! Once you have a full belly and warm clothes, he'd also make sure you're comfy and that you have a soft bed to sleep in.

This is the most fatherly lucifer will ever get, and you WILL feel like his child. You might even accidentally call him dad a few times before you both make it a bit.

He will start telling dad jokes, as he babies and dots on you. He is a very hands on type of God, treating every creation like family.

No matter the age you are friends with him, he will see you as beautiful, as every life in his eyes: great, small, "pretty", "ugly" is beautiful to him. From the most terrible looking of bugs, to the most graceful of birds. From the grandest things in creation, to the most devastating of destruction, it is beautiful to him. You a ripple in the grand design, older than you both, and he will adore every second of your life that he shares with his own. After all, your kind was the only reason why he continued to live, when his life had no worth. Every mortal being is his will to live, his hope personified. The older he gets, the more loving he is.

∞/10 best friend. Your eternal soul is safe in his gentle claws, for the rest of eternity. No matter the hardships you face in life, the pain and suffering you endure, lucifer cheers you on. He will welcome you lovingly, when your time inevitably comes, but he will watch your every step before the great beyond as he does every other mortal: with pride. He is proud of you, and all you achieve. Even if your grandest achievements are just getting up, or managing to shower, he knows how hard that is sometimes.

"...child. you are the grandest art in the universe. Every little detail in the cosmos, is part of a grander tapestry. You are one of the many details I favor. No detail is my true "favorite" mind you. That would be cruel of me, to deam something lesser for whatever reason. But... what I mean to say is, everything about you, I have loved. Your first cry, as you announced your presence to the world... every tooth lost, with quarters in their places... I enjoyed watching each freckle on your skin form, as you played in the sun... I enjoyed watching you scuff your knees when you played, and how brave you were when you got back up... your every shower performance, I listened to with pride and closed eyes, as you have the voice of an angel much like my kin. I have not watched every second of your existence, or heard every word. This universe is vast, and there are so many that need me to love them... but every second I've had the pleasure to know you, before you knew me, has been a blessing someone of my rank in the heavens could never give. Thank you, for bringing so much beauty to the universe. I cannot wait until you are gently welcomed home, with your hair has grayed and fallen, when you reach the mortal's autumn. Years of warm smiles, leaving generous wrinkles... you are so beautiful now, and you will be beautiful then. Keep living, my child. Not a single second is wasted. Not to me... at least."

Edit: forgot something important!

Bonus stuff!

Angel/baby lucifer fluffy up his wings when he gets comfortable, so he would ge extra fluffy when cuddling you.

Demon and God lucifer purr, and they love belly rubs and chin scritches. His ears are sensitive, and only get more so after he gets furr. He also would purr to calm you down or make you feel better.

Lucifer at all ages kneads and chews on things, for different reasons. Baby Lucifer does it because of his lack of stimulation growing up, hell/teenish Lucifer does it to soothe stress, and god/adult Lucifer does it when he's content. He will make biscuits on your back, as he knows it will scratch and massage you at the same time. His love language is very touchy feely.

If you give demon lucifer pain meds, he will do zoomies. And he is VERY fast on all fours.

His tail is prehensile, and he WILL Carry you if you're really close to him. Wrapping his tail around you and his chest, like rope tying you to his underbelly. You will know what it's like to be a baby gorilla, without all the work of holding on for dear life.

[kimwexlers-brownhair]

Hello Kim ! I love that you're a Sansa fan, I was wondering what your favourite Sansa quote is? And why do you think she is so hated compared to characters like Jon, Dany, Arya, etc ? Thank you xx

Thank you for asking about my favorite child! It's hard to narrow down a quote as my absolute favorite. I love it whenever she's sneaky about manipulating idiots like Joffrey without ever dropping her armor of courtesy. "He is a fool, you're so clever to see it! He'd make a much better fool than a knight" about Hollard, and "“They say my brother Robb always goes where the fighting is thickest. Though he's older than Your Grace, to be sure. A man grown” are perfect examples.

They're also examples of why so many fans dislike her. She's too subtle for them, and too nuanced (maybe the most nuanced character in the series?). The dislike started when she was framed in the very beginning as Arya's foil, when her motives were easy to read: marry the prince and live like in romantic stories of chivalry. Now we're all obviously supposed to be frustrated with her, as we would be if our little sister or daughter fell for such an obvious douchebag but had a head too full of fairy tales to listen to reason. That frustration doesn't mean we hate them; in fact, it's usually so frustrating because you love the little twits. Yet because Sansa was set up as a foil to Arya, the underdog tomboy to cheer for, most viewers projected those affectionate feelings onto her and Sansa was left as the antagonist.

In season 2, we get nonstop action, with Arya, Jon, and Dany slicing through folks and burning them....and Sansa just seems to sit there sad and mealy-mouthed in King's Landing? Weak!

So many fans were attracted to the pageantry and sensory overload Game of Thrones gave them, and to take the time to understand someone as quiet and diffident as Sansa appeared was just not going to happen.

Ultimately, Gillian Flynn said it best:  “I like strong women” is code for “I hate strong women.” People watched GoT and decided for a woman to be equal, she had to commit violence, just like how men assert their masculinity. This hurts both Sansa and Arya in the show, I think. Sansa, with her subtlety and traditionally feminine interests, combined with the self-centered streak she showed in season one because God Forbid a teenager be self-centered especially since Arya isn't, was deemed too weak and annoying. Arya is the badass little ninja, but in the books, her descent into her darkest impulses because of the hell she's been through is...Not Good. Not empowering. She's a child. Sansa is a child. But because the way Arya survives and loses much of herself is cool and masculine-coded in the show, it's okay to rally around her. With Sansa, it's weak.

Unfortunately, a lot of Sansa fans go too far in the other direction, which I think is important to note. I've said this in another post, I know, but I just gotta repeat a distinct memory from when the show was at its height. More people were getting into Sansa, and her popularity was rising. Someone dared post their artwork of Sansa in armor and holding a sword. The reaction was ridiculous. "You're missing the whole point of Sansa's character if you give her armor and a sword!" First of all, Sansa is the most adaptable character in the series. Much like Elizabeth I, she would absolutely do that to boost morale at the very least. Second of all, people love to put women in boxes; to quote Succession, a lot of fans can't "hold a whole woman in their head."

Sansa is an example of "safe" femininity; she'll always be good and sweet and pure, a nice escape from mean women like Cersei, butch Brienne, tomboy Arya. Suddenly all the women just become these traits and aren't allowed to grow past them or learn to love other things. Maybe Sansa does learn to pick up a sword willingly, and finds out it's...kinda fun! Empowering, even!

No, there's nothing wrong with loving to sew, sing, and dream of romance. However, there is harm in internalizing that as the only things women can and should do. There's just something so infantalizing about the treatment of Sansa by some fans: "Our little Sansa always behaves like a lady".

I love Sansa because she isn't always likable. She has a lot of internalized misogyny, and she takes it out on Arya. She's so self-centered in her desires that she tells Cersei about Ned. She's also a child who we can safely assume was more strongly discouraged not to end up like Arya than, say, Arya was. This is her arc. I hate that it happens because of trauma, but her growth stems from Ned's death because it shows that deep down, this child wants home and family more than pagaentry. But because she couldn't say it with a sword, fans missed this.

[water-pokemon-appreciator]

[A video! FINALLY!]

[The video starts where the last picture was. Immediately, a distorted ultra wormhole smashes through the sky. The blast from it pushes some of the nearby floating island things away slightly. Pretty quickly, an entire Ultra Necrozma (with a certain greninja riding on its back) flies through it.

Clearly, breaking into the distortion world from an ultra wormhole took a lot of energy, as it reverts back into a Dawn Wings Necrozma.

It becomes evident that, yet again, Gal and Greninja come to the rescue. While dragging a Necrozma into it because they needed extra wormhole power.

Sidon and Alex are absolutely flabbergasted, which is fair considering that they didn't realize this was even POSSIBLE, let alone that they'd be able to do it so quickly! Or was it quickly? Time distortions their beloathed.

The wormhole was still open. Good job, necrozma!

The Giratina that threatened the couple now stared confused at the Necrozma as they began to fight, which mostly consisted of Necrozma grabbing/hugging the distortion worm. The Necrozma unfused so Gal the lunala could swoop in and grab the still-stunned Alex and Sidon while the now base Necrozma got attacked with distortions as the wormhole slowly closed.

Gal flew for it. She had to get the hell out of here. Unfortunately, as she got close enough, the wormhole closed, and she flew right through where the wormhole once was. Uh oh.

The Necrozma actually seemed interested in the distortions. It found them fun, even. The Giratina clearly was also having fun creating them to put the Necrozma through. Holy shit it's the friendship of the third legendaries.

The giratina eventually just put the distortion world equivalent to sensory fruits for Necrozma, and it ate that shit up (not literally).

Gal and her ride-alongs just watched as the distortions made time go at a normal pace for them, and super fast for the cocomelon nerds until they got their chaos fix in. Because once they got bored, it would probably let them leave, or at least sidon assumed.

And he was right! after years and years went by in their little time dilated bubble, they got bored of the equivalent of sensory fruits and basically no time passed for Gal and co.

And a distortion cracked through the sky and basically vacuumed them all the hell out of the Distortion world.

The video cuts to feed from Sidon's phone, which is now inexplicably in his basement, recording them as a distortion dumps Gal, Greninja, Sidon, and Alex into his basement. The Necrozma didn't come with them, but it can be assumed its somewhere in ultra space.

Finally, sidon gets up and says, "Arc. That was. exhausting. Can we never do that again?"

All of the aforementioned group members seem to agree with this sentiment as sidon notices the camera and turns it off]

[xfulmen]

❝It‘s okay. It‘s fine. I wasn‘t meant to have a good life.❞ Statement spoken theatrically over a minor inconvenience that she‘d experienced today.

( * / @scarletbellatrix. )

It was an indifferent day at the rambunctious premises of Fairy Tail, where the transpiration of hullabaloo was a prominent sight to behold, alongside with the vivid odour coming from those who partook in potability. Briskness at eminence, as the jovialness illustrated upon a miscellany of individuals was too apparent to witness. Laughters in a variety of voices would reverberate the atmosphere, and consequently his ears. Moments like these were scarce as the probability for an upcoming war to take place stood on a high pedestal. Such was the unfortunate fate for those who wield the same isnignia that he does. Alas, the momentousness of such contemplations was trivial.

Right now, a drink would suffice --- poured in a large wooden mug. Hell, he could even taste the foamy liquor of his choice running through his thoat, providing him with a distinguishable bitter flavour. Whilst the incarnation of thunder would seldom participate in the overconsumption of alcohol, a mere simple drink would hurt nobody.

Therefore feet begun moving in a canonical pattern, long and prideful strides. Complexions of orange inevitably glanced around him; a fellow dragon slayer ( ragamuffin as he would refer him as ), had a pure white suit ornamenting his physique, with an electric guitar as the inanimate object to occupy his hands --- eventually strumming its strings with a horrid noise echoing cranial walls. No wonder why several people would engage in the act of barbarism and throw pieces of food at him, in an attempt to cease such monstrosity of an appearance. Talk about a non - ideal view as a whole. And did he even greeted the S - Class mage? Even offering to sign to him? Laxus preferred to display ignorance and pretend he never heard anything.

Then, there was the sight of another fellow dragon slayer with another mage participate in a brawl. Punches and kicks were discrete alongside with --- garments tossed in the air? Ineluctable, since this was coming from the ice mage who responds to the name of Gray Fullbuster. And the last thing the elementary mage needed was to join in this fatuous situation.

Another glance divulged even more; few people were seemingly enjoying playing some questionable games for their own amusement. Truth or dare? Really? And due to his enhanced sensory skillset, his hearing have amplified their booming voices. Not to mention the several conversations that reached his ears, providing privy annd grotesque information that seems almost illegal to listen to.

Maybe he is exaggerating, but he wished for some tranquility within this guild. The less noise, the better for him.

And lastly, few meters away from his presence was the gallantry manifested, sitting on a chair, with her elbows adjusted atop knees, as armored palms were placed upon her face. It didn't take a genius to figure out the expression that was engraved --- the current sentiment she was experiencing. The sight of sugary delicacy smeared on the floor was enough for him to understand. Desperation was the correct connotation to describe her.

And here he was contemplating whether he was exaggerating or not.

( ' It's okay. It's fine. I wasn't meant to have a good life ' )

❛ . . . ❜

... He had just entered the goddamn Guild, for crying out loud.

[bookishjules]

okay another question because i can: i’m in new york for the day, what are we doing

NERO DAY. okay so we are definitely seeing a show. we can do a matinee maybe? the show is up to you. or we could do broadway roulette and be given a random one which is very fun. before that.. make sure you have your walking shoes on lol we'll do some walking in central park, walk a little through midtown to see the important things (the library on 5th ave, grand central, the empire state, etc) and then we can grab lunch before the show. unfortunately we probably won't be able to avoid the timesquare sensory overload but we will do our best not to linger in it. at night, we're going up to a rooftop bar bc it's vibes and also i think we deserve to get a little drunk together atp lol there's this really nice one at the hotel i took lena to for her bachelorette that i'm thinking of specifically. also i think it would be good to just let the day settle. bc there's a hell of a lot we could do in one day but also i'd want to be able to appreciate the limited time we had yk? of course i would be open to alterations to this plan hehe i would have suggested like the met, but alas that really requires a whole day of its own

[confessions-official]

Dressing up is hard. I have no sense for fashion except for what is comfy.

Unfortunately I have work that doesnt require uniforms so i have to think about what ro wear everyday and its hell. Its very hard.

What if im wearing the same outfit combo too long? I love this pants because it doesnt give me the sensory hell for now but i dont think i can wear it for the whole week. Am i favouring this type of jeans too much? Am i wearing the same clothes too much?

I dont have many clothes to begin with. Clothes shopping is very stressing and the clothes available around here is... Old fashioned and awkward to say the least

I remember buying a shirt from one place yearsss ago, to the point of it basically worn out already. And i still see the same shirt for sale

Online shopping is like having to willingly participate in doom scrolling. I wish theres easier ways tbh

 

[leafcabbage]

thinking lovingly about ranboo in your fic. I hope they get x3 back to back hot showers. as someone who's had an EEG done, they use special glue on your scalp that's meant to last multiple weeks really and I had to do 3 showers with baby oil and soaking in conditioner. I know their sensory hell. I wish them so well and many cozy stolen clothing. (I love your fic mate keep it up!)

OOH EEG KNOWLEDGE THANK YOU!!!! i get so excited to learn new things - i know the adhesive from EKGs is certainly present, but i dont think its as strong as EEGs (then again, i havent used the stuff made for treadmill tests lol) (im EKG Tech certified, so ive done those on others and myself. not that i do anything with the certification lol).

anyway do NOT worry, they will certainly get a ton of help getting that stuff off their scalp. they're gonna need a good while with conditioner with the state their hair's gonna be in after days without proper care, too. the hospital is generally not the best place for ranboo, though unfortunately their health shall continue to necessitate it for a while.

thank you SO much im glad youre enjoying :D

[upon-blades-twilight]

Midnights are a wild card. To some; flavoured with emotions. To others; suffocatingly dreary. To the most unfortunate; stained in terrors. To this single soul, however, all of the above would apply. Most of all, it would be bitterness that reigns supreme here. Here, which he considered a rancid gulch within hell itself.

The monstrous room was lit from monitor to preservation jar. It was coiled and choked by all manners of motorization and cryptic artifacts. A bustling research center indeed, which was lovingly tucked away within the bowels of Mundus' domain. There were even immature samples of Nightmare here; floating along in their little containers.

There, towards the back, was a large tube that was extra decorated with sensory knick knacks. It housed a young man. He slept peacefully enough. At least, as peacefully as the coma induced would while being ignorant of the many cords and tubes that ran through his body. Sadly, it would only be moments later when something in his mind decided to jolt him awake.

As expected, his first reaction was confusion and panic. He couldn't breathe between being suspended in liquid and with a tube having made its' home down his throat. Thankfully the glass surrounding him didn't put up much of a fight against his struggling. Another moment later he found himself collapsed over the ground.

His body immediately began heaving and expelling liquids from his lungs upon yanking out the contraption lining his esophagus. The cords that clung to his body would also be quickly torn off. After his fit of coughing and wincing at the stinging pain of his first breaths, he looked around. He had no idea where he was. The mix of uniform cladded figures didn't seem to care about the sudden ruckus either. They continued about their business without so much as a glance in his direction.

Shakingly, he willed himself onto his feet while trying to ignore the chilling awkwardness of it all, and wasted no time to take the first hall he noticed. No one still gave him any mind nor did they try to stop him. The hall itself was very dark even with the presence of large windows lining it. The stormy weather outside did give a bit of aid. It was just barely dim enough to make out, which was enough to encourage him into a sprint--to an even darker dead end.

'Where am I… I shouldn't be alive. Dante?.. Did he escape before the portal closed?' The thoughts were forcibly dispersed with a shake of his head.

Without light guiding him he was forced to feel along the wall. Hopefully there was a door nearby. A smooth, cool surface? What's this? As if in reply, a stronger bolt of thunder webbed the sky and lit up the room brightly. It was a large mirror before him.

He reacted with a sharp and painful inhale to what he saw.

Vergil stood before himself, but it was ghastly. The skin was just as pale as his hair, and the widened eyes of shock that stared back were a bright red. His body also appeared emaciated and riddled with scars of experimentation. What was especially strange was that his feeling of shock felt like it was condensing somewhere.

Where? It preferred to creep and burn down his right shoulder and continue down his arm. A quick glance said even more; the flesh affected was melting. He shrieked.

Nameless here for evermore.

[sorcerous-caress]

Don’t worry, I went to sleep and I’m at university and a whole adult so you aren’t corrupting the youth or anything.

Jubilee is a gold dragon sorcerer, and I have a hell of a lot of thoughts surrounding that she jokes that she’s biologically obligated to worship Bahmut but maintains that Justice really isn’t her thing. Her companions usually tease her about this because she’s generally such a goody two shoes but she maintains that compassion and justice are extremely different and compassion is the superior option by a lot.

I also think most draconic sorcerers have keener than normal senses with her large ears Jubilee is practically a radar dish and her sense of smell is on point. It’s very useful and actually is great because most illusions don’t account for smells so she’s quite good at sniffing them out. Unfortunately these overly keen senses can lead to some pretty severe sensory overload and she has to bury her face in someone’s shoulder and try too block everything out, I like to imagine Karlach bought her earmuffs at one point trying too help but Jubilee’s floppy rabbit ears are too big for them.

I also think that if Jubilee uses too much magic (aka runs out of spell slots) feral dragon brain takes over. She still retains her personality as a sweetheart so the worst she ever really does is hiss at someone and lay on Karlach like she's a warm rock but it's absolutely hilarious to watch their normal overly chatty and charismatic leader just go creature for a few hours. Jaheria and Halsien will wild shape to join her so it's bonding time.

The best and most practiced draconic sorceress in the lore of D&D can sometimes ascend to become actual dragons Jubilee has no real interest in this however Lae’del found out and is constantly badgering Jubilee to do it and be her Dragon mount. She maintains that since Astarion didn’t get to ascend it is only fair that she doesn’t either.

She says “my friends are my horde” like it's a joke, it is not she loves them, treasures them and guards them as fiercely as any Dragon would protect its horde. Other thing in her hordes included various insects (because she thinks they are neat little guys) and recipes (because she is a baker and cooking for people is her love language.)

I can not stress how much Jubilee adores each and every one of her companions because she does to pieces, even astarion (he is lucky Jubilee has more love in her heart than I do)

She seems so lovable, She is really keen on showering all the companions with all the love they never got, which honestly yeah. Love is the best medicine especially after traumatic events.

Halsin, Jaheira, and Karlach would probably adore her creature mode. First two because they can relate and Karlach because she thinks it's absolutely adorable.

She seems like the kind of person who is immune to being teased or bullied because she is so sincere and pure hearted that the offender just feels bad or backs off. Like if someone was mean to her, she'd disregard it and ask if they're okay or need help, completely taking people by surprise and making them feel ashamed of their actions.

Maybe she can be a sister or a friend figure to Asterion, god knows he needs platonic love so desperately. He is akin to a wet cat in a basket with a soggy cardboard cutout saying "adopt me" above it.

She does seem very selfless to a self sabotaging degree, Minthara would try to half a talk with her about it maybe. Halsin might encourage it or make it worse because he is like that too.

And the companions as her hoard thing, yeah, I relate to it! My sorcerer did the same thing, except it just resulted in them being more controlling, possessive, and protective.

I don't care what Mystra says Gale, you belong here.

Shadowheart sit your ass back down, I'm talking to Viconia when we get down there.

Vlaakith can suck my massive cock, Laezel, the gith hunters can claw you out of my cold dead hands.

Also, the second they unlocked level 11, they just flew everywhere. Even places that are walking distance, they just kept flying on buildings and forgetting their companions back down.

I made them carry my 100,000 gold worth gem pouch because it got too heavy, it was a privilege to the most favourite of the day tho.

Mostly Halsin, no one else really had the inventory space tbh. The dead clown body parts couldn't carry itself.

[bi-naesala]

Just a whore

(Kinktober day 11: Petplay | Humiliation | Sensory Deprivation)

Trans Mitsuru, Maid Dresses, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Rough Sex, Top Shinjiro, Dom Shinjiro, Bottom Mitsuru, Sub Mitsuru

Shinjiro has something to say about Mitsuru's choice of armor. Things escalate.

(AO3 link)

(Fic under the cut)

“What the fuck is this?”

Mitsuru has gotten used, with time, to Shinjiro’s crude language – had to, in order to survive it – but she still rolls her eyes at him.

“I think it’s fairly evident on its own, Shinjiro,” she replies, trying to sound calm, in control as always, but it’s harder than expected, given her attire for the night.

Unfortunately, her demeanor doesn’t seem to convince him at all. actually, by the way he looks at her while circling around her with long strides – she isn’t sure she enjoys the attention – he almost seems intrigued, or at least amused.

“And pray tell, what the hell are you doing in Tartarus dressed as a maid? Are you trying to seduce the Shadows?”

She bristles immediately at those words, their implications. He’s so vulgar.

“O-Of course not!” She exclaims, before clearing her throat. “This is armor, kindly provided by our leader.”

“Armor, right,” Shinjiro deadpans. “He must have a sick sense of humor, or he’s just sick in the head, if he thinks this counts as armor."

Normally, Mitsuru would defend their leader’s honor – even though, yes, he does have some eccentricities – but she can’t move a muscle. It’s like she’s frozen in place.

She can’t help but to feel small, under Shinjiro’s scrutiny.

It’s his voice what manages to break this sort of stasis, though she wishes he hadn’t spoken at all.

“Damn, I know the guy has his charms or whatever, but to make you his little bitch so easily…”

It’s obvious that he’s just trying to get a rise out of her, but Mitsuru can still feel herself blushing, and her insides on fire. She feels weird, she feels offended, she feels… something else that she can’t decipher.

How dares he? Who does he think he is, talking to her like that?!

She’ll put him in his place!

Before she can start yelling at him, however, and make him understand that Mitsuru Kirijo isn’t someone to be trifled with, they’re joined by the others, meaning that she’ll have to postpone the lecture about proper conduct to a later time.

She closes her eyes and exhales.

It’s time to focus.

The Shadows today seem particularly sluggish, and yet Mitsuru can’t keep up with them.

No matter how hard she tries to maintain her focus, all she can think about are Shinjiro’s words and his eyes staring into her very soul, mocking her.

She feels her body on fire, bristling with anger, shame and something else of a nature that she has now understood, but doesn't necessarily want to admit to.

It makes for a poor spectacle, but as much as she can blame him for her lack of discipline, in this particular instance, she knows that it’s also her fault: she’s let her words get to her, instead of being above such an obvious provocation...

“Watch out!”

She gasps when someone grabs her arm and drags her out of the way of an agilao spell that would’ve surely knocked her out.

“Focus!” Shinjiro yells at her, then. Ah, so he's the one who saved her.

She shakes her head, gathering her bearings as Shinjiro finishes the Shadow.

“Seriously what’s your deal today?” he continues, then, as he turns towards her. He looks livid. “You’re forcing me to play babysitter by fighting this shitty, you know that?”

“I…”

She truly didn’t expect to be the one being scolded that day; it was supposed to be the other way around.

“If you were feeling sick, you could’ve said so,” Shinjiro says, then, surprising Mitsuru, before adding, “Fuuka, do you hear me?”

“Yes, senpai,” comes the reply.

“Me and Mitsuru are leaving. She isn’t feeling well.”

“But—” She tries to protest, but she gets cut off immediately.

“No buts. You’ll risk your life if you keep fighting in these conditions.”

And that’s final.

The walk to the dorm feels awkward.

On one hand, it’s sweet of Shinjiro to be worried about her wellbeing so much – another reminder that, despite the way he may act, he truly cares – and maybe it would be best if he keeps believe that she’s caught some sort of illness, but… but she feels bad about deceiving him in such a way, even though it was unintentional, even if the truth might put her in a difficult position.

Still, it’s better than lying.

“Shinjiro,” she begins. “I need to talk to you.”

He turns towards her, studying her face.

“What is it?”

They can see the dorm in the distance; they’re not too far.

“What happened back in Tartarus… You got it wrong."

“Mitsuru, don’t try to bullshit me. Something must be wrong with you,” Shinjiro replies immediately. “I’ve never seen you fight this bad.”

She sighs. This is going nowhere.

Still, maybe it’s for the best to drop the subject, at least until they’re still outside. Once they’re back at the dorm… she’ll see.

Relief washes over her once they step inside, but it’s short lived, as Shinjiro pushes her against the closed door.

“Alright, what your deal, then?”

He must’ve sensed that there’s something going on, that’s not just some illness what has befallen her.

Mitsuru feels frozen in place again, but she manages to shake it off – now it’s not the time to let her emotions get the better of her.

“You,” she simply says, hoping that it’s enough for him to understand, sparing her the humiliation of having to elaborate further.

Unfortunately, that’s not the case.

“Well apologies, your highness, if my crude words angered you this much, but that doesn’t mean—”

“That’s not it.”

He rolls his eyes at her denial.

“Then what is it?”

Mitsuru takes a deep breath.

It’s now or never.

“I…”

She hesitates for a moment, but then she reminds herself that Shinjiro deserves to know, since he’s the cause of this.

“I liked it.”

Shinjiro observes her in stunned silence. It makes her feel quite uneasy, if she has to be honest, so much that she even tries to slip away – mostly so that they can move to a better suited location to discuss this, instead of remaining there, right at the entrance – but he grabs her by the shoulders and keeps her from doing it.

“You serious? Are you pulling my leg?”

Part of Mitsuru wants to be bold, but how much is too much? Would she scar Shinjiro for life with something like that?

Well, she figures that, if he were truly disgusted with this, he would’ve pulled away already, put some distance between them, but he hasn’t, so she tries: she takes his hand, guiding it to the place between her legs, under the skirt, where he can feel a small bulge barely covered by the panties.

To tell the truth, she’s had to fight inside Tartarus like this, as she kept thinking about Shinjiro talking to her like that again. That’s why she’s been so distracted.

“Oh… Wow…” he mutters, feeling under her costume. “You really mean it.”

She doesn’t say anything, she just kisses him, dragging him forward by the back of his neck. Shinjiro goes along with it, kissing her back with one hand still groping her, while the other settles on her hip.

A gasp is forced out of her lips as Shinjiro pulls away, only to turn her around and slam her against the door again.

“So…” he says, dragging a finger from her neck to her back, making her shiver at the contact. “Who would’ve guessed that the Mitsuru Kirijo likes to be talked down to?”

“Shinjiro…” she tries to warn him – he should be very careful of what he says – but she doesn’t sound convincing at all, so much that he takes even more liberties, in the form of ripping her costume open, exposing her chest.

She has half a mind to chastise him – way to ruin a perfectly functional garment – but all words die in her mouth when he starts playing with her boobs, rolling her nipples between his fingers and pinching them, making a whine escape her lips.

“You’d let me do anything to you, right you, wouldn’t you?” he whispers in her ear, before biting at her lobe. This time, she outright moans.

This is unbecoming of her.

There’s humiliation pooling down her stomach at the mere thought of how low she’s sinking, and yet that same humiliation fire her up.

It’s an addicting sensation, so Mitsuru seeks out more, pressing her ass against Shinjiro’s body. It’s then that she notices that he too is hard – the situation is getting to him as much as it is getting to her.

In response, he pushes her even further against the door.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Please…” is all she can say.

“Mitsuru Kirijo begging for something? Must be my lucky day,” Shinjiro taunts her, making her shiver. “You’ll have to be more specific than that…”

She greets her teeth. He really wants her to say it, doesn’t he? Fine, she’ll bite, if that’s what it takes to get what she wants.

“Please… Fuck me.”

“Who’s being crude, now?” Shinjiro says, finally getting his revenge for all the times she’s scolded him for the way he speaks. His hands lower to her thighs, which she spreads further on her accord, trying to be inviting. From the sound he makes, he must like what he’s seeing, but it’s still not enough. “Say it louder.”

Louder? But, they’re at the door… Someone could hear…

Sensing her hesitation, Shinjiro leans further down against her, making all the inches he has over her in height all the more significant.

“I said, louder.”

… She has no other choice, doesn’t she?

“Fine,” she begins, taking a big breath before shouting, “Please! Fuck me!”

“See, that wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it?” Shinjiro gloats. Oh, he’s having a field day with this.

His hands move to her ass, squeezing it, playing with it. The panties she’s wearing are feeling tight, way too tight to be comfortable, so she tries to lower them in order to get at least a margin of respite, but Shinjiro immediately pins her hands to the side of her face.

“Who told you you could move?”

“Shinjiro…” He has to know how uncomfortable it gets when...

“The way I see it, a bitch shouldn’t talk,” he says, then, but he still goes to lower her panties himself, wasting no time as he begins to roughly jerk her off, making her moan. “See? That sounds better.”

He’s treating her like… a whore.

It shouldn’t make her even harder than she already is, but it does.

She wants to say something, but she’s afraid that, if she speaks, he’ll stop touching her, so she keeps quiet, letting her body do the talk, with the way she chases after his hand, thrusting blindly into it.

Still, it’s disappointing when Shinjiro pulls away, but before she can beg – she’s understood that it’s the only thing he will accept from her – to continue, he drops to his knees, pushing the skirt up so that he can uncover her ass, and then spits into her hole.

She’s not proud of the squeal that comes out of her lips, but there isn’t much she can do about it. Her whole body is shaking, waiting for Shinjiro’s next move – suddenly, she wishes she were the one on her knees, at least she wouldn’t have to put this much effort into keeping herself up.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to do with just spit, princess,” he mutters, almost apologetically – as if he hadn’t been treating her like filth until now – before diving into her asscheeks, pressing his tongue against her hole in quick circular movements.

Her legs shake even more, and she moans again, over and over, as Shinjiro continues to eat her out, pulling away occasionally to spit in her hole, getting it all nice and moist. Each time he does that, her cock leaks a little bit of precum.

When she feels a finger starting to push inside her, she freezes.

“Relax,” Shinjiro says, weirdly tender in the way he kisses her thigh. “It’ll hurt less.”

She tries to do as he says, but it’s not an easy task. To help her out, he goes back to jerking her off, making the process much better.

She can feel his tongue, as well as his finger, and soon she starts moving against them, in a silent plea for more, thus a second finger joins the first.

“Can’t believe you’re really into this,” he can’t help but to marvel, though Mitsuru also detects a hint of smugness in his voice.

“Please…” she begs again, wanting even more. The foreplay is making her go crazy; she needs Shinjiro, and she needs him now.

He pretends to think about it, but he drops façade soon.

“Fine, if that’s what you want.”

He gets up.

Mitsuru shivers when she hears the sound of a zipper being pulled down, knowing what’s to come.

Shinjiro spits on his palm, coating his cock as much as he can, then, he starts pressing the head against Mitsuru’s entrance.

She can feel the burn of the stretch, but she doesn’t let it get to her. She greets her teeth – she’ll endure it.

When he bottoms out, she feels her insides on fire; she's scraping her fingers against the door, in search of a better hold, when he suddenly pulls away, only to slam back inside of her, startling a moan out of her.

He begins slowly, thankfully, but as soon as Mitsuru gets used to the intrusion, he starts going harder and harder, uncaring of the noise they’re making, uncaring of the fact that she’s getting slammed against the door each time he thrusts back inside.

“I did say that leader made you his bitch, but I see that I was wrong,” Shinjiro says; his voice sounds breathier than usual. “It doesn’t matter who it is, doesn’t it? As long as you get a cock up your ass, you’ll do anything for anyone.”

He smacks her ass, causing her to flinch and moan. She doesn’t know what’s getting to her more, if the way he’s speaking, or the way he’s treating her.

“What do you think would happen, if everyone came back now?”

Oh. She hadn’t thought about that.

Shinjiro grabs her tightly by the jaw, forcing a finger past her lips. Feeling like it’s the right thing to do, she begins to suck it.

“What if they opened the door, and saw you getting fucked like a bitch in heat?”

She can’t help but to picture it, her companions, her friends, retiring to the dorm after a hard day – night – at work in Tartarus, ready to get a well-earned night of rest, only to be met by such a view as soon as they open the door.

Shame, she feels shame, but something in her brain must be wired wrong, because it excites her.

“They’d all know how much of a whore you really are, Mitsuru.”

She feels close, so close. She just needs a small push and…

“Please… Shinjiro, please.”

“Want to come? Then say it," is the only choice he gives her. He even slows down his movements, the bastard.

“What?”

“Say you’re a whore,” he replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the universe. “I want you to shout it.”

This is so humiliating… and yet, she has no choice; she knows Shinjiro: he won’t give her what she needs if she doesn’t first give him what he wants. She has to do it.

“I’m a whore!” she yells, after taking a deep breath. “I’m a whore! I’m a whore! I’m a whore! Shinjiro, plea—Ah!”

He must’ve heard enough, because he starts picking up the pace again, helping her further by closing a fist around her cock, pumping it at the same speed of his thrusts.

“Well, come then, whore.”

She doesn’t even realize her moans have turned into screams, as she reaches her peak. It’s more intense than any orgasm she’s ever brought herself to.

Soon, Shinjiro comes as well, but he’s “kind” enough to pull away, before shooting his load, making his cum land on her ruined dress – well, she was going to get rid of it anyway, so it matters little.

He’s also there to grab her before she collapses to the ground, muttering a “careful”, before taking her in his arms and lowering her to the couch, then tucking his dick back in his pants and disappearing who knows where, only to come back with cleaning supplies, headed towards the door, meticulously cleaning it – which is good, because Mitsuru doesn’t have any energy to do it herself, but she also doesn’t want anyone apart the two of them to see the mess they've made on it.

Once he’s done, he comes back to her.

She must look pathetic, as she’s trying to get up – she needs to go back to her room – but he doesn’t say anything about it; instead, she takes her in his arms again, holding her while going up the stairs.

Somehow, this feels more embarrassing than the fact they’ve had sex, and the way he's treated her until that moment.

“I can do it on my own,” she says.

Shinjiro scoffs. “Sure you can.”

“Really, there’s no need to…”

“It’s the least I can do, okay?” he cuts her off. “After, well… that.”

The sudden shyness pushes a chuckle out of her lips. It’s weird that she’s not in similar conditions, but maybe she will be soon, once she’s alone and has time to properly process what's just happened.

“Yes, you could say you've treated me quite harshly, didn’t you?” she states.

“Yeah… Sorry.”

She shakes her head. “It’s fine. If that wasn’t obvious, I like it, and… wouldn’t mind doing this again, or giving you a taste of your own medicine, if you’d like.”

Shinjiro doesn’t reply immediately – he must be thinking about it – but then a small, challenging smile appears on his lips.

“Why not? We can see who lasts longer.”

At that, Mitsuru can’t help but to return the smile, already thinking of how she can turn the tables around next time.

It’s on.

[cherrypieships]

valentine’s day

A/N: unfortunately for you bitches i am now enjoying posting fic on here. here’s a valentines day one

Ship: Davey x Pepper (s/i)

Summary: modern au! Davey asks Pepper to be his Valentine

The seasonal aisle in Target is sensory overload in the best way. Davey ponders this as he turns over a box of heart shaped candies in his palm. The pinks and reds and glitter-pasted surfaces are overwhelming as he browses through the three stretching aisles of shelving, looking for the perfect little gift. 

Days ago, he’d asked Pepper what she’d like for Valentine’s Day and, being Pepper, she’d waved the question off. He wasn’t stupid though, it was her favorite holiday, and she was getting a gift come hell or high water. He’d been browsing her Etsy likes for about an hour before making the realization- he hadn’t even asked her to be his Valentine yet. And that had set his scheme in motion. 

Now he stands in the seasonal aisles debating whether she’d prefer chocolates or a stuffed animal.

Eventually he gives up and decides on both- a plush orange cat holding a pink heart that says ‘you’re purr-fect’ in its mouth, and a heart-shaped box of Russell Stovers wrapped in glossy red cellophane- and moves on to the cards. There’s funny ones, and sentimental ones, and ones with pretty artwork on the front, but nothing really screams Pepper to him.

Stumped, he decides to mosey up to the checkout and make a card with whatever printer paper and markers they have lying around at home. Which is probably just her stash of colorful sharpies for scrapbooking. 

The girl behind the cash register eyes him as he places the items on the belt. “Cute cat,” she remarks, sliding its tag past the scanner.

He blinks, looks around quickly, and then realizes he is, in fact, buying a stuffed animal. “Oh,” he says, “thank you. He looks like our cat at home.” He lifts his phone, the clear-backed case proudly displaying a polaroid of Pepper, her face smushed affectionately against Mango’s own.

The cashier grins, tilting her head to see the picture better. “Oh, wow, yeah. Cute!” She slips the little creature into a plastic bag, his whiskers peeking out over the top. Good, he thinks, he can breathe. It takes a moment to notice what a silly, irrational thought it is, and he wonders briefly what posessed him before he realizes- it’s something Pepper would say. 

He turns the phone in his palm, takes his own look at the picture.  It sends a trickle of warmth up his cheeks, the thought of returning home to his little family, and he makes haste of paying for his purchases.

The next destination is a flower shop near their shared apartment. Checking his watch, he’s making good time- he has an hour and a half before she even gets out of work. He slips into the store.

The cool New York air gives way to a warm, humid climate when he slides in the door. The smell in the shop is clean and sweet, all roses and lilacs and hydrangeas. It washes over his face in a gentle welcome, and he makes his way towards the large-headed pink peonies tucked into the corner. After working up the courage, he manages to stop stroking the silken petals and ask the florist to cut a bouquet together.

It ends up even prettier than he’d expected, with fluffy peonies cushioned by baby’s breath and paired with cream-colored roses. The thick green stems are wrapped in brown paper and tied, at his request, with a red embroidery string. They perfume the small space of his car the whole way home. 

He takes the stairs up to their apartment two at a time, target bag slung over his elbow and flowers tucked firmly in his palm. It isn’t until he’s already keyed his way in and toed off his shoes that he realizes there’s music floating in from the kitchen. It takes him a few bars to place the song- you squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi, I can tell that it’s gonna be a long road…

He’s both elated and saddened to hear the dulcet tones of his girlfriend’s voice singing along. Of course he’s happy she’s home, out of work early and ready to start the rest of the evening together. On the other hand, he’d really been banking on a surprise for her.

Mango curls around his ankles, mewing indignantly when she is not given immediate pets. Always the pushover, Davey grants her a scratch behind the ears. “Hi, honey. Where’s mama, huh?” He coos.

The orange tabby knocks her face against his shin in lieu of another answer, and shimmies off to her perch amongst the couch cushions. He snorts at her antics, and trudges his way into the kitchen just as Pepper turns around, a whirlwind of inky ringlet curls and vanilla fragrance. Her eyes are wide as she catches sight of him. “Oh, hi! You’re home!” She sounds a little panicked. 

Nevertheless, a grin curls over his face. “Hi, angel,” he says, a kiss to her lips. It’s then that he notices the smear of vanilla frosting on the apple of her cheek. He thumbs it away. “You’re home early.”

Red dusts her cheeks. “I… wanted to surprise you,” she admits, finally taking a step to the side, and there, on the counter, is a dozen misshapen cupcakes. They’re red velvet, his favorite, smeared messily with poppy-pink frosting and adorned with edible pearls. Seven of them spell out ‘B-E M-I-N-E-?’ in white icing. It’s a little silly, and a lot endearing, and he’s so overwhelmed with the visible effort she’s put into it that he can’t stop himself from throwing the target bag and flowers onto the counter and sweeping her up into a kiss.

She shrieks, delighted, and kisses him back, messy and vanilla-flavored. “I was gonna-” he interrupts her with another kiss. “Ask you to be my Valentine! But you ruined the surprise!” Davey would feel bad if she sounded at all disappointed. But she doesn’t.

He pulls away, scooping the flowers up again. “I was goin’ to ask you, baby, I was gonna set these up all nice for you.” He hands them to her, revels in her little gasp before pulling out the chocolates and, best of all, the mini-Mango. 

Pepper buries her nose in the flowers, moving from the peonies to the roses and back again. When she looks up, her bottom lip is pushed out, and she clutches the little cat to her chest. “Oh my god, you’re the best,” she says.

Though he can feel his cheeks heat, he waves her off. “You’re the best.”

When he leans down to kiss her again, he’s stopped with a manicured finger to his lips. “Wait, is that a yes?” She poses, brows furrowed as if she’s really, actually concerned he’s gonna say no. They’ve been dating for years.

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, angel. I’ll be your Valentine.”