#🏹 — Right On Target. *

[lovesse]

Go Forth Without Falter, With Your Heart As Your Guide. . .

♡ ɜ * ₊ ･ PINK NPD FLAG : a flag for beings with npd, just the npd flag but pink ! @corviper for the symbol ^^

i do not have npd but my friend who does && doesn't have a mogaiblr blog requested me to make one !! exclusive to beings with npd of course, no gender tags they're just for reach

taglist : @smilepilled @laughdiamond <- idk i thought you'd like a little @jiiamp @timmy-bee @nexolord @violetbunkuromi @bjdboyy @themothnotthemap

[targetslovelyworld]

Stampy’s Lovely World Dashboard simulator

🍪 randomwordotd Follow

Random word of the day: Frogs!!!

( 56 notes )

🎄 hollyjollypolly Follow

Only 342 days until Christmas!

🥔 bubblingconcoction Follow

Halloween is better

🎄 hollyjollypolly Follow

I disagree with that personally.

🥔 bubblingconcoction Follow

You can’t disagree with me I’m right

🦫 sillybillybeaver Follow

This your house?

🎄 hollyjollypolly Follow

WHAT

🧜‍♀️ lovelovepetalz Follow

Oomfies fighting on the tl again

#its funny though #reblog # // not flowers

( 85 notes )

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

Who put Stampy Cat in charge of the weather I feel like I’m going to get heat stroke just stepping outside

🧸 longshot-btg Follow

its not that serious bro

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

It hasn’t rained in 4 years what the fuck do you mean its not that serious

🧸 longshot-btg Follow

that sounds like a you problem

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

When I get my hands on those dogs I will exile you

#its gonna happen #his dogs WILL be mine #just you wait and see

( 5,937 notes )

🥧 pumpkinmunchkin Follow

new hit the target plan leak hes going to steal the dogs by taping a photo of stampy cat onto his head with the hopes that the helpers wont catch on

#he would be stupid enough to try to pull this off

( 428 notes )

💿 giraffeconstructionsite Follow

i think i botched the recipe this potion isnt kicking in

💿 giraffeconstructionsite Follow

( 25,173 notes )

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

Nobody decided that Stampy should get to rule over everyone. The fact that so many of you people are complacent in his regime is sickening to me.

☃️ christmasmiracle12242012 Follow

im henry i am a snow golem and i like snowball fights and playing in the snow :D

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

?

#what

( 7 notes )

🍪 randomwordotd Follow

Random word of the day… BERRY

( 93 notes )

🐱 mr-stampy-cat Follow

Making a cake with my favorite helpers! Such a lovely morning.

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

Your days are numbered.

🐱 mr-stampy-cat Follow

Not much of a threat coming from you, Mr. “I spent thirteen years consistently failing to take one guy’s dogs and now I’m salty about it”

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

Not much of an insult coming from you, Mr. “I don’t let anyone else speak except for me because I’m self-obsessed and don’t care what others have to say in the slightest”

🦫 sillybillybeaver Follow

This is why your wife left you.

🏹 freeing-this-world Follow

Go fuck yourself

#imagine being so desperate to win an argument that you drop the veeva card #that should be an indicator that your argument fucking sucks #bringing up a lads divorce as a gotcha moment #how typical of a brainwashed helper

( 109 notes )

🌆 is-veeva-dash-dead-yet Follow

No.

🥔 bubblingconcoction Follow

Go to hell William

🌆 is-veeva-dash-dead-yet Follow

Who is this “William” you speak of? I am very clearly is-veeva-dash-dead-yet

🥔 bubblingconcoction Follow

Two can play at that game.

🎇 is-william-beaver-dead-yet Follow

No.

🦫 sillybillybeaver Follow

Wow! Unprovoked, Veeva!

🎇 is-william-beaver-dead-yet Follow

If I have my way I’ll be posting the word yes tomorrow

#and nobody will miss you

( 323,791 notes )

[081314]

Twisted Wonderland - Magic3 Battle Quotes

The latest update to the JP server brought a third level of magic for SSR cards, and new battle quotes along with it. Following is my translation of the new lines.

These are sorted in order of dorm, and then alphabetically by character name.

Heartslabyul

Ace Trappola

♥️: I bet you underestimated me, huh?

♥️: Sorry, but this is game over!

♥️: Okay, now this is Ace Trappola’s one-man show!

♥️: A totally legit, no swindles involved win! And I didn't even lose a single set.

Cater Diamond

♦️: Shall I show you my cool side?

♦️: Try not to overdo it, okay?

♦️: Don't hurt yourself!

♦️: Oh, sweet!

Deuce Spade

♠️: Let’s let our fists do the talking!

♠️: You think I was born yesterday or something?

♠️: Oi, quit being a chicken shit!

♠️: No way can I let ‘em see me look bad.

Riddle Rosehearts

🌹: Are you ready?

🌹: You've angered me.

🌹: I'll let you hear my verdict.

🌹: Do you honestly think you can go up against me?

Trey Clover

🍀: We'll paint all the roses red.

🍀: This is why I told you....!

🍀: Could you please not bother me?

🍀: Did I go easy enough on you?

Savanaclaw

Jack Howl

🐺: You ain’t going anywhere.

🐺: My fangs are sharp.

🐺: You’re about to realize… just how strong I really am!

🐺: Remember my name!

Leona Kingscholar

🦁: I do what I want.

🦁: Enough already.

🦁: You better not turn your back on me.

🦁: You wanna be hunted down?

Ruggie Bucchi

🍩: I’m gonna take you out with the trash.

🍩: I’ll make a sandwich outta ya.

🍩: I���ll flip you like a pancake.

🍩: Shishishi… And that's the end of that.

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

🐙: I'll be collecting your payment now.

🐙: Come now, what are you going to do?

🐙: It's time for you to say "Goodbye".

🐙: In short, talking won't do us any good here.

Floyd Leech

🦈: Here, how 'bout this? Ahahahha.

🦈: I’m gonna wring you like a towel!

🦈: Aww, don't be scared.

🦈: C’mon, let's see some tears in those eyes. Ahahaha.

Jade Leech

🐬:  It appears you need to be chastised.

🐬:  Even though I was so kind as to give you some advice…

🐬:  Don’t be afraid. Heh heh.

🐬: *Dissolve into the foam of the sea!

Scarabia

Jamil Viper

🐍: It's a difference in skill.

🐍: Disappear to the ends of the earth!

🐍: Don't you dare get up again!

🐍: I'll take away everything from you!

Kalim Al Asim

☀️: This is a party, so dance!

☀️: Party's over!

☀️: This is the real deal!

☀️: I'll make ya dance for me!

Pomefiore

Epel Felmier

🍎: Everything will freeze over.

🍎: If you underestimate me, you’re gonna end up hurtin’!

🍎: Don’t judge me just based off how I look.

🍎: Sleep forever.

Rook Hunt

🏹: I’d love to hear what you thought.

🏹: Adieu, Monsieur!

🏹: Love’s bow and arrow.

🏹: Oh, may your final moments be beautiful!

Vil Schoenheit

👑:  Come on. **Charm me!

👑:  It’s a shame we have to say farewell.

👑:  This is…. My strength!

👑:  That’s a wrap.

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

💀: It's finally time for the main event.

💀: We're only at halftime, dude.

💀: You wanna take it to Sudden Death?

💀: I really just wanna be alone right now...

Ortho Shroud

🤖: Energy cannon, firing all rounds.

🤖: The target will be eliminated.

🤖: Magical cannon, maximum output.

🤖: The obstruction will be destroyed.

Diasomnia

Lilia Vanrouge

🦇: I'll give you a good scolding.

🦇: Your little jokes have gone far enough, kid.

🦇: I won't overlook a single chink in your armor.

🦇: Let's get you off to bed now.

Malleus Draconia

🐲: You fool!

🐲: Bow down before me!

🐲: Did you really think you could win?

🐲: Behold the power of a king!

Sebek Zigvolt

⚡: I'll drag you in.

⚡: Had you intended to ensnare me with that?

⚡: I'm faster than light!

⚡: Stronger than a lightning strike!

Silver

⚔️: Sleep deeply.

⚔️: I'll send you off to sleep now.

⚔️: I have something I want to protect.

⚔️: I won't make you suffer.

TL Notes

*this one seems to be a reference to Hans Christian Andersen's "The Little Mermaid". the mermaid princess turns into seafoam and dies at the end, and jade's phrasing seems to mirror how its written in the jp version of the story. i took this line from the eng version of the story.

**he's saying either "charm me" or "show me". the words are pronounced the same and idk if there's in-game text that accompanies their lines, so take this one with a grain of salt pls.

[sugar-glaze-donut]

Okay- So- I am having a rant idea of an Aruji-sama here.

So my idea here is a (Bayonetta Origins- type) of Aruji-sama (Yeah- the butlers got a badass XD)

So she has a similar timid person but that's what the butlers know that, but when she practices her witchcraft in secret, her persona becomes a whole different one like in (Bayonetta 1) :3

And bruh- the minute she fights the angels in a while another level- XD wish them luck-

Main Persona Aruji-sama: Umm- well that can be helpful.

Switched Persona Aruji-sama: Don't I suppose that I'm even welcomed here. But love when its hard to get.

I'm not quite sure about Bayonetta... but it gives me an impression of pure badass-ness! LETS GO BADASS MC SUPREMACY

(Also I’m REALLY SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! I had no idea what Bayonetta was so I had to research a LOT about it 😭)

~ 🐔 ~ 🥀 ~ 🗡️ ~

From your ask, it seems like original Aruji-sama and Bayonetta Aruji-sama have different personalities Aruji-sama talking/ interacting with butlers and Muu: timid, polite, shy, etc... Aruji-sama is fighting angels: ABSOLUTE GIRLBOSS, BADASS SLAY QUEEN, STEP ON M- (ok I think that's too much, sorry 😞)

Anyways... when Aruji-sama is fighting with Chicken Wings Angels in front of the butlers, they act vulnerable and scared to fight. But when it's Bayonetta!Aruji-sama it's a different story! Since Bayonetta uses a gun (and several other weapons) it'll be a wild ride those overgrown chickens >:)

~ 🐔 ~ 🥀 ~ 🗡️ ~

Angel: *exists*

Aruji-sama: *draws gun* I'm a "normal" person but-

Butlers: WHAT IS THAT-

~ 🐔 ~ 🥀 ~ 🗡️ ~

Aruji-sama: *exists*

Angels: Why do I hear boss music?

~ 🍗 ~ 🪦 ~ 🏹 ~

...I think fighting angels would be way easier :) But that will make you more of a target to the angels, especially the high angels like Seraphim. That won't stop you from absolutely roasting him though mmm... smells like chicken nuggets

Also Bayonetta's personality is to not take things seriously (?) A very reckless Aruji-sama is sure to give the butlers the fright of their life

~ 🍗 ~ 🪦 ~ 🏹 ~

Seraphim: *talks shit about the devil butlers*

Aruji-sama: I'm not the type to get mad but... *equips Durga*

Bastien: Is it just me, or do I smell fried chicken?

⚠️Spoilers for Episode 3⚠️ Villa butlers: *running away from Thrones (lmao idk I thought it was Slone 😭)*

Aruji-sama: *yelling* Bye bye angel Pookie 😘 hope you get roasted in hell soon <3

Thrones: (doesn't understand it but gets provoked) ...YOU MOTHER FUCKER!!!!!!!!!

~ ✡️ ~ 🔮 ~ 💫 ~

And since they can do witchcraft, they could be great friends with the witch girl from the village!

Aruji-sama 🤝Witch girl

Also based on some research I did, Bayonetta has magic that can let her have direct contact with demons (I hope I'm right 🫠) This means Aruji-sama can summon demons to help fight the angels.

~ ✡️ ~ 🔮 ~ 💫 ~

(I'm really sorry this is short 😭. I hope I was able to get some of the Bayonetta lore right...)

Last Edited - September 6th

[ramattraswifey]

🏹⁀➴ Aim High | Hanzo x reader

summary: Hanzo teaches you how to use a bow and things get steamy ;)

a/n: haven’t written in a while so apologies if its a bit repetitive here and there! Been obsessed with this man for so long and there isn’t enough writing about him <3

cw: mature? Slightly ooc 0-0 Make out sesh, implied sex… ig

You walked into the practice range, already noticing the archer was there, one thing about Hanzo is that he was always punctual. He was dressed in a tight black compression shirt, accentuating his muscular and broad figure. The fabric hugged his arms tightly, highlighting the amount of training he did. His hair put into his signature ponytail tied with a matching black tie. His posture perfect as he stood still, arrow ready to be released from his bow, hitting a perfect bullseye. You watched him in awe as you approached the target with an arrow drawn back. His face was calm as his huge arms reflexed with each strike of the string. Your eyes trailed over his toned torso as he nocked another arrow on his bow. You were mesmerised by this man. He was handsome. “I see you finally came” his deep voice rumbled. Hanzo finally turned to face you, his eyes scanning your body quickly before meeting yours. “Are you ready to learn how to shoot?” He questioned casually, a small smile appeared on his face- something you didn’t see often, Hanzo tended to act more stoic in front of the other agents, so this made you feel special. You nodded eagerly, eager to prove yourself to him. “Then let us begin.”

ˋ°•*⁀➷

You took Hanzo’s bow and wielded it to the best of your current ability, it had hints of navy blue alongside the riser and a comfortable grip. The archer scooted closer to you, noticing you could work on your posture, he placed his hand lightly on your lower back to guide you through it. “Remember, when moving forward, you should move your right foot slightly backwards.” Hanzo spoke whilst shifting slightly to adjust your form.

ˋ°•*⁀➷

“Don’t look down or around. Focus solely on the target.” You listened, his low soothing voice kept you grounded, blushing as his gaze watched you intensely, inspecting your form carefully. You attempted to match his breathing and technique you saw him use on missions, your muscles slowly loosened as you became less tense. He gave you a nod, signalling he was satisfied but kept his broad hand on your back, his touch making your body flush hot. “Good, now try releasing the string”, Hanzo was so close, you were sure he could feel the warmth radiating off your body. Obeying as he removed his hand, missing the warm contact. Letting go of the string, you drew your arm back, holding your breath as you waited for the arrow to fly. You held your breath and your eyes widened as the arrow left your bow, flying straight towards the target. It hit the centre, but no so much a bullseye. “That wasn’t even half bad! I thought my aim was pretty good.” You smiled at Hanzo as he shook his head in amusement. “Not bad but you’re not there yet. You need to concentrate more.” He took note of your inability to focus- probably because he didn’t understand the feeling of having a hot archer watching after you. “Now take your stance again” he instructed firmly, you complied, following his instructions as you mimicked his stance. “Now, release the string once more, just slightly higher this time, keep your fingers relaxed” he explained, demonstrating your movements with a gentle push against your back as his right hand came to alter your hand placement, his hands were noticeably bigger than yours. Once released, it flew straight towards the target, but still slightly off. Hanzo moved to stand beside you, his large hands placed gently on either side of your waist, pulling your body flush with his own, sending sensations straight to your core. “This time try to hit the centre”, he softly guided your arm, he touched you with such tenderness, like you were fragile porcelain. You looked up at him, watching as he gently moved your arm, the way his face was fully concentrated on you, his eyes catching your stare and his lips curling upwards, you felt lightheaded. “You can do this.” He breathed. You were going to get it this time. You inhaled deeply, focusing on the centre of the target and releasing the arrow. You felt the arrow fly, you looked up to watch it soar towards the centre, it hit the target dead on.

ˋ°•*⁀➷

Celebrating, a loud gasp escaped your mouth as you turned your head to face Hanzo, forgetting how close your bodies were as his lips brushed against your ear. You shivered. Butterflies invaded your stomach, hearing his baritone voice rumble lowly against your ear. “You did well.” Hanzo’s voice was soft and laced with lust as he spoke against your skin, his praise making you weak in the knees. His arm was still wrapped around your waist, his fingertips grazing against the side of your hip bone. He slowly leaned forward, brushing your hair behind your ear, his nose lightly brushing your neck, his breathing heavy on your skin. You swallowed thickly, goosebumps erupting across your entire body. Hanzo’s other hand it made its way up to caress your face and your cheek with his thumb, tenderly tilting your chin up towards him. You had never felt more alive than when he looked at you like that. Even though everything felt too intimate to say out loud, your mouth opened anyway as you leaned into him. Your lips brushed softly against his. Pulling away after only a moment, slightly disappointed as you both longed more intimacy. The warmth between your bodies was intense, his arm holding you tightly against him. Your lips tingled and your cheeks felt hot, but Hanzo simply held you closer.

ˋ°•*⁀➷

“What made you stop?” The archer whispered into your ear before kissing the side of your jaw, trailing down the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your skin until reaching the base of your throat. You hummed softly, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms again. “You think i’d let you get away that easy…” You could hear the smile in his deep voice, his words almost teasing. Hanzo nuzzled your neck, pressing light kisses there. His breath hitched when you pressed back against his torso, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him flush against you as his fingers dug into the small of your back, pressing you even harder against him. A small whine left your mouth and Hanzo groaned low in his chest as you pressed your hips hard against his crotch, the heat radiating from his body. Your hands fisted into his shirt, pulling him closer, lips parting hungrily for the kiss you longed for. He kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping between your lips and exploring your mouth, sucking gently, giving you every chance to pull away. You didn't want to. Everything felt too much, too good, and you needed more. You pulled back, panting heavily against his lips, eyes half lidded, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you.

Smut part 2…?

[b3llb00]

" We Pull The Tail, Now We See Who Bites. "

Robin of Loxley/ The Hood X Fem!reader.

Summary: Robin got injured during a chase to get some coins for the commoners, so Y/N offers to heal his wounds if she gets something else in return from him. ;)

A/N: I need to stop watching this movie, I’m obsessed and it’s gotten the better of me.

Contains: Kissing, 50% dom/sub reader and 50% dom/sub Rob, mentions of sex, injuries. [WILL INCLUDE: Smut, Unprotected Sex (Use Protection, Yall.) P In V, Oral (Male/Fem. Receiving) , Fingering, Creampie, Multiple Rounds. Mild Dirty Talk.]

Wc: 1.2k * I think. * (Will Prob Change.) IM COPY AND PASTING AND EDITING THIS FROM MY OLD ACCOUNT, SO DONT SAY IM A COPYCAT. THE FINISHED IMAGE WILL BE UPLOADED HERE. IF YOU WANT TO LIKE AND FOLLOW ME, LIKE AND FOLLOW THIS ACCOUNT.

DONT REPOST OR COPY MY WORK, YOU CAN REPOST WITH PERMISSION, ENJOY.

(Btw sorry if this picture is bad, just ignore John and pretend it's you lol.)

»»———-　🏹　———-««

You are setting up traps for Robin to shoot at later, when all of a sudden you hear a loud, groan from him coming upstairs, making a shiver run down your spine. When Robin was back in Arabia and you had to fight him, you ended up sparing his life, but your mercy to him didn’t do much as you still got captured and was set sail in a boat with him for 3 weeks. Surprisingly, you too starting talking and some would even call you " friends " .

You decide to go upstairs to see what Rob was groaning about, and there you saw him, shirtless, his toned torso on display. In nothing but his pants with a wet, bloody rag resting on his massive thigh where he been impaled. You had to close your eyes for a second, trying to push the weird desire you had for him to the back of your mind.

I wasn’t joking when I said the treasury itself was a hard target. You say, slowly walking toward him, this made him look up from his leg to look at you. He decides to ignore your statement and press his rag into his thigh further, making him hiss through gritted teeth. You decide to go grab your medical supplies you used whenever you two got hurt. You always had wanted to be a nurse, but ever since the Sherif of Nottingham drafted you, things changed. But I guess it’s pretty useful to know how to properly treat somebody’s wounds.

Hey! You heard Rob say from across the room, Where are you goin-

I'm getting my medical supplies, dumbass. You say back with a bit of an attitude, not wanting to be told where you’re going or what you’re doing when all you trying to do is help. Oh, sorry, love. Carry on. He said, making you turn your head to see a light smile adorning his features.

As much as you sometimes hated Robin's attitude and sarcasm, you just can’t help yourself to be mad at him. It’s almost like you're drawn under a spell that will keep you from ever getting into any sort of confrontation.

You finally got all your medical supplies and you headed to the small table that he sat in on. Letting the supplies fall from your hands, you organized it quickly, while Rob eyed you carefully the whole time.

Once you got everything ready and set up the way you wanted it, you took one more look at his thigh. ' Shit. ' You thought, his cut is too deep to get a good look at what’s going on, so you’re gonna have to find a way to ask him to take his pants off.

The cuts- uhm. You stutter, Your gonna have to take your pants off if you want me to get a good look at it and fix it.

You were looking everywhere except his face, not wanting him to see your blush-coated cheeks. Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could still feel his gaze burning a hole into the side of your head.

Just the pants or the braies too, love.? He winked at you, causing you to basically turn into putty right in front of him. (Keep in mind they didn’t really have ' boxers ' in medieval England, but they did have what were called braies. They were basically the same thing.)

You decided to try and flirt back to the best of your abilities by saying. Well, first, take your pants off, and then I’ll tell you.

This earned you a chuckle from the handsome man as he threw the bloody rag to the side and very carefully came up from his spot on the table, you watched him intently as you noticed some of the blood continued to trickle down his clothed thigh. He didn’t seem to care, he kept eye contact with you the whole time as he slowly took his pants off. To be honest it felt like an entity had passed when his pants finally hit the floor, and you weren’t disappointed, let’s just say that.. there was definitely a buldge hidden underneath the fabric of his braies, and you could actually see it growing..

You could practically hear Robin’s smirk as he called out to you, his voice low and teasing. Hey, my eyes are up here, love..

You immediately snap your gaze back up to his face, and he just has an amused expression painted all over his features. You could feel the heat start to radiate off your cheeks and your heartbeat start to pick up as you mumble out defensively. Yeah, yeah, I know.. You close your eyes for a second, trying to recompose yourself.

He takes a step forward, biting his lip to hold back a groan from the wave of pain that just shot up his leg. He cocks an eyebrow and says in a lower octave. You sure about that?

[I am currently editing this, and right here is my stopping point. If the story shifts or changes I’m sorry, I will fix it soon.]

" Hmm. If I fix up your thigh, will you give me a kiss? " You say before continuing, " I’ve always wondered if your a good kisser or not. "

He let out a small chuckle when his eyes kept flicking down to your lips. Then he finally spoke up and said, " Sure, love. " You blushed at the pet name. " Maybe I’ll give you something more than just a kiss. " He winked, making you roll your eyes at his audacity to be this flirty when he’s impaled.

" Fine, let me get my stuff.. " You say, heading away to get your medical supplies while Rob just watch you leave with a smile on his lips.

~

" Mkay, done. " You say as you wrap up his leg and stand up straight, pretty of yourself.

" Well, here’s the kiss that you wanted. " He said as he grabbed your arms, lightly pulling you in before his lips collided with yours.

It feels amazing, and you wanted to be immersed in this feeling forever. You didn’t know what to do, but you were able to make room by spreading his thighs wider so you get closer to him, which made him moan into your mouth. You smiled into the kiss, knowing it could be any moment when John could walk upstairs and see you two start to make out like teenagers, you didn’t care. You just wanted to feel Rob, you wanted his weight on top of you, you wanted him to pin you against the wall and fuck you till your legs went numb and you were cockdrunk.

He wrapped his muscular arms around your waist, pulling you closer and you felt his buldge in his pants grow. You let go of his lips for air and you almost whined at the loss of contact.

" Sorry, love. I don’t want us to get caught. " Rob said with a frown. You cupped his cheek with your hand and kiss him again softly before saying. " It’s fine, we can continue later. "

~

[bakersstreetirregulars]

Kingdom Headline, 2/7/24: Beast-Yeast Episode 2 - “Theater of Lies”

⚙️ Sheesh, 3 years already? Guess their economic outlook in this era of gacha saturation’s gotten them very far, especially with the amount of burnout that hit the upper management Cookies here last Cookiemas. This is actually the 3rd Cookie Run 3rd Anniversary that Meringue’s been through. And if you think my count’s off, think again. Puzzle World’s also more than 3 years old, but that anniversary (and their 4th) went silent because essentially nobody but me talks about that game. But since we’re all here, why not make a month out of it?!

Estimated Duration for all Undated Events and Banners: 2/7 - 2/29

Main Events (Including Part 1)

3rd Anniversary Festival - Step right up and join the party with a myriad of games filled with prizes!

White Lily Cookie’s Daily Gifts - 14 days of valuable rewards and new resources. Log in every day to get resources that get you closer to meeting White Lily Cookie: one of the Anniversary’s main prizes.

Mystic Gold: Midsummer Night’s Forest Spirits - A Temporary Shop featuring Mystic gold variants of the two new Legendary Costumes

The new resources, Emerald Pins and Brilliant Rainbow Crystals, are withheld behind other events and in packages

Emerald Pins will be converted into Brilliant Rainbow Crystals after the season ends (10 pins -> 1 crystal)

Brilliant Rainbow Crystals can be spent on returning Mystic costumes in any season

Explore Beast-Yeast! (Ends 3/27) - Clear stages in World Exploration’s Beast-Yeast continent for milestone rewards with new resources up to 75 stages cleared!

Beascuits Event - Get acquainted with the new Beascuits with some new tasks to get ahead!

Lovely Choco Boxes - Mystery boxes filled with random rewards. Open them using Melting Sweet Hearts you can get from your friends!

Melting Sweet Hearts! - Send gifts filled with Melting Sweet Hearts to get milestone rewards featuring a new icon and title!

Silver Kingdom Adventures (Permanent Until Finished) - Get Crystals for clearing stages in the first two episodes of Beast-Yeast for the first time in any difficulty!

Bounty Missions - Today’s Bounties have been updated! Win battles to get milestone rewards including one Star Jelly Concentrate Level 80 to max out a Cookie to the new level cap of 80!

Seasonal Modes

White Lily Pass - An Event Pass with missions and rewards. Includes a premium track including White Lily Cookie’s Soulstones for $14.99

Skirmish Raid - Circus of Shadows - Dare you step into this twisted circus of dark fantasy and illusion? Form three teams and brace yourself for a show unlike any other!

Kingdom Arena - New Frontiers Season 1 (Ends 2/20)

Gift Month - 🫖🗡️ Tea Knight Cookie (Ends 2/21)

Guild Battle - Destiny’s Wrath Season 10

10-3 (2/7 - 2/13)

10-4 (2/14 - 2/20)

Cookie Alliance Season 2-3 (Ends 2/12)

Cookie & Gacha Features

❔ White Lily Cookie - Light of Freedom Nether Gacha

A theory deemed impossible because of the witnessed events from the Tower of Sweet Chaos, the fact that this skill was teased in the TUTORIAL said otherwise. Her skill does area damage that increases with every buff she has, and ensnares enemies in immobilizing vines with bonus aftereffects and extra damage once dispelled or if the target is immune. Her passive can heal and purify her entire team after getting enough debuffs, although activating the buffs gained with this passive is linked with using her skill.

🌷🏹 Silverbell Cookie - Featured Banner

One of the Faeries of the forest. His skill provides DMG Resist and healing over time that scales with buffs held by his teammates while also providing a DPS/stun debuff on enemies damaged by his skill.

Activates bonus passives when Mercurial Knight Cookie is on the same team.

🧚‍♂️🥄 Mercurial Knight Cookie - Featured Banner (Ends 3/13)

The Commander of the Silver Tree Knights. Gains new powers when using his skill. While his skill is active, he heals extra damage (plus damage relative to Max HP for Cookies) and inflicts Mercury Poisoning with each attack. His Final Strike at the end of his skill deals big damage that increases based on his targets’ stacks of Mercury Poisoning (this is damage relative to Max HP for Cookies).

His passive gives him a stack of Amalgamation every second and whenever he gets a debuff. After gaining 60 stacks, he dispels all his debuffs and enters Mercury Storm mode for temporarily increased ATK, ATK SPD, and Max HP. He can’t gain Amalgamation stacks while Mercury Storm is active.

Activates bonus passives when Silverbell Cookie is on the same team.

3rd Anniversary Deluxe Gacha

Anniversary gacha with increased odds for Super Epic+ Cookies and a guaranteed Super Epic+ Cookie every 150 pulls. Only accessible with special gacha tickets found in events and the shop.

Pure Vanilla Cookie’s Viridescent Daydream & White Lily Cookie’s Moonflower Faerie Legendary Costume Gacha

Features a special Title for collecting both costumes

Lunar New Year Special Hanbok Costumes

The Lunar New Year Hanbok Special Costumes for Almond Cookie, Dark Choco Cookie, Oyster Cookie, Moon Rabbit Cookie, Cherry Cookie, and Macaron Cookie are back again! They’ll disappear again with the banner once this update ends.

👻 Blackberry Cookie - Buffed

Blackberry Cookie’s skill now grants an ATK SPD buff and HP Shield in addition to her existing CRIT% buff. This further cements her status as one of the best Rare Cookies in the game!

Major Update Features (Includes Part 1)

Beascuits - Adds extra bonuses to your Cookies

Today’s Bounties - Updated and organized to include new rewards.

Each boss now has a different reward… Skill Powders now stand solely with the Labyrinth Tactician!

Daily attempts increased from 3 to 6, Kingdom Pass increases this cap to 9

Bonus rewards awarded on a given boss on a given day of the week (Sugar Gnome Laboratory technologies that increase rewards apply their bonuses after the daily bonus)

New/Returning players have an extra, temporary bonus on top of the existing bonuses

Added 2.5x Game Speed to standard and arena battles

Cookie and Skill max level increased to 80

Level cap is reachable after achieving Kingdom level 45

Simplified animations for Tree of Wishes, Bear Jelly Balloon, and Bear Jelly Train

Added Cancel button for Balloon Expeditions

You won’t get your Stamina Jellies back if you cancel an expedition

Added scroll bar on the Cookie list screen

Arena Fast-Forward

Allows you to advance to the tier group below last season’s highest tier

Tower of Sweet Chaos now CLOSED.

Searing Keys converted to 500 Coins per key

Related events & achievements now closed

TOSC Package contents will be delivered in full regardless of Tower progress

Unlock TOSC BGM by clearing World Exploration - Crispia, 4-12 in Story Mode

Sugar Gnome Laboratory: Maximum Searing Keys & Searing Key Recharge -> Bounties: More Star Jellies & Bounties: More Coins. Technology levels and costs remain the same.

All TOSC cutscenes in Pastry Cookie’s story are now immediately unlocked for all players in the Tower of Records for free

Added customizable Profile Backgrounds and Badges

Crème Brûlée Cookie and Linzer Cookie’s Soulstones are now in the Mileage Shop

World Exploration: Beast-Yeast

The biggest feature of this anniversary is the new addition of the Beast-Yeast continent. Unlock it by clearing stage 8-30 on Crispia (the preexisting level series through Goddess of Eternal Gold)

Level Explanations coming soon

[floral-poisons]

fear for nobody

pairing: rook hunt x gn! reader word count: 3.5k words warnings: violence, politics, assassination notes: this takes place during my twisted wonderland high fantasy au! rook is vil’s most trusted assassin and you are part of the hidden organization as well. however, you soon realize that your childhood friend (and partner) has some reservations about this new job. the title is derived from the song of the same name by måneskin. ao3 link: 🏹🏹🏹

The trees provided shade from the hot sun. Today had been surprisingly hot, hotter than most days. It was only abnormal though and would last for this day only. Despite the heat of the day, your body was weighed down by dark clothes. “How much longer do we have to be here?” You ask, body leaning against the trunk of the tree.

“Only a little bit, dear (Y/N).” The blond answers, his crossbow still aimed.

“Why are we doing this in the day? Shouldn’t we be doing this at night?”

“We’re only supposed to kill the Viscount. And this is the only time he’s alone.” His green eyes blinked for a second. “At night, he’s spending time with his family and wife.”

“A family man. What a rarity. It’s a lot easier to kill when he goes out at night to see his mistresses.” You scoff. “Why do we have to kill him?”

“Dissent. Why else? He’s one of three heads for the Prince LeBlanche opposition. We must eliminate the threat before they rise.”

You straighten your back from the trunk. “He’s coming in.”

“I see.” He kept his composure, finger on the trigger. “Yes, yes. Keep walking like a deer in the woods.” Innocent. A family man. His wife would be devastated. His children devastated. An arrow shot through his body. He took a deep breath before his finger pressed down on the trigger.

— — —

“Good work there Rook. Nailed him right in the head!” You say as you get out of the carriage. By now it was dark. Besides, the estate was empty save for the servants.

“It is the only way to efficiently kill a man.” Rook steps out as well.

“Baron Hunt.” The butler bowed. “And (Y/N). I presume the assassination went successfully?”

“It did dear Reagan. You may store the weapons back in the basement. I will send a letter to Queen Schoenheit. Come dear (Y/N). Let me cook up some dinner!”

“Oh Rook. You don’t always have to cook.” You sigh. “Let me do it for once.”

“You’re my partner! Nonsense. You stayed in the hot environment with me the whole afternoon today. It’s the least I can do.” He smiles.

“You never change, do you?” You chuckle.

“I enjoy cooking for you. Why would I change?”

You purse your lips. “Are you okay?”

“I am okay. Why would you ask that?” Rook laughs nervously.

“Well you seemed…off today. Usually you’re more confident about killing our targets. Today was different.” You frown. “It’s not the first time either. You’ve been like this for the past few weeks. You even rejected a few assignments. What is going on?”

“Nothing (Y/N). I promise. We can resume this conversation at a later date.” Rook walked before you could say anything. Such a mysterious man this was even though you had known each other since childhood and been partners for years. He was hiding something and you were determined to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering him.

Before he set off to make dinner, Rook entered his study to sit down and write a letter to Queen Schoenheit detailing the assassination today. It went well which was to be expected from him. But as he sat down, writing, he couldn’t help but think about the fact that he had just widowed a woman and their children would be exposed to the assassination of their father. It was clear as day an assassination. “Great Seven.” He sighed as he rubbed his face, thinking back to your observations of him. The only answer he had to your question was that it was complicated. But even telling you was a bit risky. This was the kind of life he only knew, you only knew. You were both born in the business and you both were meant to stay in it and never leave. “I must stay focused.” He signs the letter before folding it and placing it in an envelope. He made sure to seal the letter with the wax seal of The Hunt of Hearts before putting it in the drawer and locking it.

— — —

“Rook! Rook! I got it!” You exclaimed, running across the green grass to the gazebo he was relaxing under. The weather was sunny and decently warm and he was enjoying a cup of tea with some snacks as he read a book. He desperately needed to catch up on his reading list. “I got it!”

“Oh you did?” He closes the book.

“The invitation for this year’s Spring Countryside Venture!” You set it down as you sit.

Rook used his dagger to open the envelope and look at the invitation. He took in a deep breath from the invitation. It smelled sweet of apple blossoms.

The acting monarch VIL SCHOENHEIT formally invites MARQUESS ROOK HUNT to a weekend away in the countryside to admire the fruitful lands of Pomefiore. The Marquess Hunt will be accommodated with servants, food, drink, sports, and his own bedroom. The invitee may bring 1 guest of their choosing and they will receive the same accommodations.

“Well, I’m sure the Queen is well aware of who I’m bringing along.” Rook smiles as he looks at you.

“Of course! Besides, people love buying my clothes while I’m there.” You finish coloring the sketch you were currently working on with watercolor. “Something about the countryside just makes them want to spend money.”

“Because everyone’s on vacation and their guard is down.” Rook leans over. “A blue and white ensemble?”

“Yes. It’s a simple color combination but it works extremely well. Someone’s bound to want to wear it when we leave for the Castle of Gold.”

“Well it’s quite regal but also simple. And you’re going for a simpler silhouette this time around?”

“They’re bound to make a comeback soon. Besides, I am the dressmaker for the Royal Court. You know that.” You smirk. “My outfits always make trends.”

“Of course dear (Y/N).” Rook took a sip of his tea before turning his head and noticing that Reagan was approaching the gazebo with a silver tray in his hand. He saw the glimpse of a beige envelope with a red seal. “Great Seven…”

“Master Hunt.” Reagan presents the envelope to Rook who takes it.

“Thank you Reagan. You are dismissed.” He purses his lips before using his dagger to open the envelope. The red seal could only mean one thing. “We literally just finished an assignment.”

“The grind never stops I guess.” You pour some tea in your cup before making it to your preference. Afterwards, you took a sip and it made you feel all warm inside.

Rook unfolded the letter and separated the multiple pieces of paper. “Well from the look of things, the Queen is satisfied with our assassination of the Viscount Cerf.”

“Who’s the next target?”

“The Earl Oiseau.” Rook hands you the profile and the letter. “The Queen wants a subtle death, something that seems accidental and looks like it was a medicinal accident.”

“Ah yes. Poison.”

“Also known as, (Y/N)’s specialty.”

“Yes. It is certainly my time to shine.” You read the papers and hand them back to Rook. “The Queen is moving up in the ranking though. And very quickly.”

“He’s trying to get rid of the most powerful influences for those opposing his rule as Queen.”

You dig through your bag and pull out another notebook. It was decorated to your preference and a lot of fabric samples stuck to the sheets of paper. On the outside, it looked like a normal fashion sketchbook. It just happened to be locked and protected by lethal poison that you were immune to. The sheets of paper were also laced with poison as well, which you were also immune to (due to your training, you’ve become immune to a lot of poisons especially your own concoctions). The cover snapped open with your key, revealing your personal journal of poisons and concoctions. Thank the Great Seven that your handwriting was so illegible that only you and Rook could read it (even so, Rook sometimes had a hard time despite his sharp vision). “Is there a deadline for this?”

“The Queen wants us to get rid of Oiseau before the Spring Venture.”

“That’s in a few weeks.” You look up at your partner with concern.

“Can we make it?”

“Well, Earl Oiseau has his annual dinner party around this time.” Rook raised an eyebrow.

“Oh…” You suddenly came to a realization. “Oh fuck! I forgot to put his wife into my schedule! She has dress fittings for the dinner! And we do this every year! How can I forget?!”

“That’s our way in.”

— — —

Your body was hot. Not from the weather but from embarrassment and stress. You had taken Rook’s large hand fan to fan yourself and have your own body cool down. You could feel yourself sweating through the underlayers of your clothes. What a fool. It’s a little bit ironic since you were a master at poisons and potions but when it came to scheduling, or anything else for that matter, you were completely lost. It wasn’t your specialty. The carriage pulled to a stop in front of a mansion and a woman came up to the door to open it. “Baron Hunt. (Y/N) (L/N). It’s a pleasure to see you. The Countess is excited that you both have arrived early.” The woman bowed her head.

“Thank you Sylvie.” You stepped out of the carriage. Rook came out after you.

“I will take care of your stuff. Baron Hunt, you may head to the gazebo in the gardens to catch up with the Earl. (Y/N), the Countess is waiting inside her dressing room. She is very excited to see what you have to offer this season.”

“I am sure she will not be disappointed!”

You had been here multiple times so you already knew the way to the dressing room. The walls were simple compared to other houses, white with a brown trim. The room you entered had floral wallpaper and sitting next to the window was the Countess. “Oh (Y/N)! You’re here!” She squeals as she stands and meets you for a hug.

“Countess! It feels like it’s been ages!”

“For a second, I thought you had forgotten about me.” She joked.

“I would never. It’s been really busy lately. Shall we sit and discuss?”

“Of course! Of course! I also have tea available and some snacks.” You sat down before pulling out your sketchbooks from your bag. They were set on the table loudly considering how dense they are. “I see it’s been a busy season.”

“It certainly has been. I’ve only had ideas and tons of fabric which is not great because then I continuously create. But here are some ideas I have for you—”

“Oh. I was thinking maybe…something different this time around.”

You looked at the Countess before leaning towards her in curiosity. “Spill.”

“I was hoping to go with something more…masculine this time around?”

“Masculine?”

“Yes. I've discovered a fondness for men’s clothes and dressing like my husband. At dinners I like to wear feminine clothing. But hunting, I like men’s clothing. It’s a lot more comfortable.”

“Hunting? You go hunting now Countess?” You pour yourself some tea and make it to your liking.

“Oh yes. I’ve started. Me and the Earl switched hobbies and discovered we like the other hobby. I do enjoy equestrian sports. I’ve even met a woman.”

You raised your eyebrows. “A woman?”

“Yes. She is absolutely gorgeous, you know. And I may or may not have had a kiss with her.”

You gasped. “Countess!”

“I know, I know. It is only fair though. My husband has been experimenting for years with other men, particularly those from his hunting party.”

“That’s great Countess!”

“So essentially for this dinner party, and for the Spring Venture, I would like a more masculine silhouette. Looser too. I’m tired of tight bodices and silhouettes.”

“I agree. It truly is suffocating. Shall I take your measurements now?”

Meanwhile, Rook sat under the gazebo, fanning himself at a rapid pace. It was beginning to be quite warm outdoors. He thought the one day where you two committed that daylight assassination would be the only hot day in the spring season. That proved to be false. An iced drink was the perfect remedy and thankfully he got his. It tasted minty and lemony, a perfect combination of refreshment. “Baron Hunt, it is a pleasure to have you over! We thought you wouldn’t be coming.” The Earl leans against his seat.

“Well how could we miss one of the biggest dinner parties of the season?” Rook smiles. His body felt heavy. He was tired, worked to the bone. He wanted to rest. Maybe he’ll get the chance when the Spring Venture came. The Roi du Poison didn’t make him work during then. “They’re quite magnificent. Your wife puts amazing detail in the decorations.”

“Oh you’ll be happy to know that I will be decorating this year! I’ve even chosen the theme!”

“Oh. Do tell.”

“Me and the Countess did a bit of a hobby switch. She took up hunting and I took up sewing and embroidery. It’s quite fabulous! Of course I pricked myself plenty but once I got the hang of it…well the designs say for themselves.”

“That’s amazing Earl. I presume you asked if you could take on her duty of decoration and theme and she said yes?”

“Of course! I had to decorate. It’s so much fun, you know! Quite a destressor.”

“At least you’re enjoying your hobbies.”

“Have things been stressful for you lately?”

“A little, yeah.” Rook stirred the straw in his cup.

“Is it the Queen?” The Earl raised an eyebrow. “I would expect nothing else from him.”

“Well what do you mean by that?”

“He’s like his mother.”

“The former Queen?”

“Obviously. Lacking in manners and etiquette. Everyone can see through his act. I’m surprised he’s managed to survive this long and hold so much power.” The Earl sips his iced tea. “Someone of his class status should remain off the throne, out of the court. His mother must’ve taught him well in the art of grabbing.”

Rook stayed silent and only took a sip of his drink. “The Queen has not been stressing me out. It’s more like I’m stressing myself out. You know. Kind of in the existential way.”

“Tell me more friend.”

Friend. The Earl just called him a friend. “Well with the legacy I’m inheriting…I’m just wondering if it’s all worth it.” Rook pursed his lips. “It’s so exhausting, my life. I wish only to live in isolation, away from…well, everything. Politics, business, gossip, everything. I want a cottage and to be able to just stay there and not think about how my actions are perceived every day.”

“Oh Baron Hunt. You amuse me.” The Earl laughs. “We do not choose this life. This life chooses us. And there’s no way of escaping.”

“But what if there was?”

“There isn’t. It’s too complicated even if you wanted.” The Earl looked up, seeing his butler approached who whispered in his ear. “Excuse me. I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Of course. Whatever you need.” Rook smiles and watches as the Earl stands and leaves. Making sure the Earl is out of his line of sight, he reached into his boot and pulled out a tiny vial of power. You had described it as odorless, tasteless, and easily dissolvable. The poison’s effects would be slow and your target would die days after the dinner party, after the two of you have left. It would look like a simple accident with the medicine the Earl was taking. His green eyes looked at the small vial of poison. A simple sprinkle of this in the Earl’s tea, a few stirs, and that was it. The cup of tea was right in front of him. But why couldn’t his arms move?

“I’m sorry. False alarm it turns out.” The Earl sat back down.

Rook hid the vial with a slight of hand before the Earl could see. He smiles. “No worries.”

— — —

“What do you mean you didn’t put the poison in his drink!” You exclaim.

“I…I didn’t. I just couldn’t. I don’t know how to explain it.” Rook ran a hand through his hair. You saw his forehead which was pale and had a bit of a tan line. You couldn’t focus on that right now though! “I couldn’t do it.”

“We are fucked! You know that right?” You scoff. “If we don’t get this done in time, the Queen is going to have a massive fit. And on top of that, our parents! And the leaders of the Hunt! Everyone will be on our asses and we will be disgraced! And it was so simple too!”

“(Y/N), I’m sorry. I…I will—”

“Fuck it. I’ll do it.” You scoff, picking up the vial. “I’ll do it. I have pill molds. And you can’t say anything! If we don’t do this we’re both in trouble, but more so you. Queen Schoenheit might even ask for your heart.” You looked at your partner. “We’re in this together. One way or another. I’ll put these in the Earl’s pills. They look identical to his medication. Problem solved.”

“...Problem solved.” Rook nods. “Don’t get caught.”

“This isn’t my first time. You know that.”

— — —

Rook turned the envelope to look at the wax seal. The seal for The Hunt of Hearts. Your mission had been successful. You received an invitation to the Earl’s funeral a few weeks after you visited, coincidentally just as you were about to enter the carriage to head to the Castle of Gold. Rook would personally visit the Queen and deliver him the letter. “(Y/N)—”

“Rook, we’ve been over this.” You adjust your deep purple ensemble. The two of you were matching since you were coming together. “It worked. That’s all that matters. The Queen will never know.”

“That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“Then what is it?”

“I…I don’t want to live like this anymore.”

“Live like what? An assassin?”

“Precisely.” Rook looks out the window. “I’m tired. I’m burned out.”

“Then it will pass.”

“Do you really think burn out for killing people will pass? I’m tired of this life. I want to do something else. I want to be somewhere else. Anywhere but here.”

“Rook, you know that’s not how it works.” You purse your lips. “Not unless we—”

“Fake our deaths. I’ve contemplated doing it. But it would have to be really good to pull it off. The Hunt knows when a death is fake.” He turns to you. “I just want to live peacefully and live a quiet life, away from the politics and complicated assassinations. A cottage would be nice. Some farm animals. And you.”

“Me?”

“Run away with me (Y/N).” He leans forward. “I’m certain I can make a convincing fake death for the two of us. And we’ll run away, away from all of this. A peaceful cottage, animals, and just the two of us. It’ll be peaceful. And we will never have to do anything like this ever again.”

“Rook…” You purse your lips. The idea was tempting. It was so tempting. This life was chaotic. But it was also all you knew. The idea of leaving was…terrifying. And if you escaped by faking your death, the punishment for getting caught would be so severe. “I can’t. I won’t.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I am loyal to the Hunt. I’m loyal to my family.” The carriage stopped and someone approached the door. “And I’m loyal to the Queen.” The door opened.

“Marquess Hunt. (Y/N) (L/N).” The man bowed. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Rook put the letter within his coat and exited the carriage. “Likewise old friend.”

“We shall take your things and put them in your room.” The man smiles as he helps you out.

The two of you watched as another carriage pulled in. This time with a crest you haven’t seen in a long time. “Wait. Is that!” You watched as the door opened and a boy with pale purple hair stepped out. Another person stepped out with him, dressed in much simpler clothes. “The Lord Cerise. It’s been how long?”

“A few years. He hasn’t been here.” Rook looks at the clear couple. “And it looks like he may have brought his partner too.”

The two of you immediately turned your heads upon hearing footsteps. It was none other than another noble of the court. They smiled but it lacked warmth. “Marquess Hunt. (Y/N) (L/N). It’s good to see you both arrived safely.”

“Likewise.” You nod.

“Now please follow me. The Queen requests to see you both immediately.”

[cheshiire-warper]

Image ID: 6 horizontal stripes colored red, white, light and dull reddish pink, dull reddish pink, white, and red. In the center is a black target with an arrow hitting the bullseye and to the right is a very simple black squid drawing. /end ID

🎯🦑emojic / Tarsquemojic

> Gender related to, or best described by, the 🎯 [target] and 🦑 [squid] emojis

Image ID: 6 horizontal stripes colored gold, orangeish brown, light and dull reddish pink, dull reddish pink, orangeish brown, and gold. In the center is a black bow and arrow, to the right is a very simple black squid drawing. /end ID

🏹🦑emojic / Bowsquemojic

> Gender related to, or best described by the 🏹 [bow] and 🦑 [squid] emojis

Image ID: 6 horizontal stripes colored orange, bright yellow, light and dull reddish pink, dull reddish pink, bright yellow, and orange. In the center is a simple black drawing of fire and a squid. /end ID

🔥🦑emojic / Firesquemojic

> Gender related to, or best described, by the 🔥 [fire] and 🦑 [squid] emojis

Image ID: Lavender banner, on the left is a rainbow crown with a black outline. On the right is black text saying "No set DNI, just remember we are a minor, we support non-traumagenic systems, and support all good faith identites - Please don't knowingly recoin! Anyone can use these terms!" /end ID

Color Meanings

> Picked from the emojis

Entomology

> 🎯 + 🦑 + -emojic / [Tar]get + [squ]id + -emojic

> 🏹 + 🦑 + -emojic / Bow + [squ]id + -emojic

> 🔥 + 🦑 + -emojic / Fire + [squ]id + -emojic

Author's Notes

Squid :] /extremly pos

Flag symbols will likely change [bc I'm impatient and am using ms paint on a school computer]

[epicadventuresofyuu]

"Aww, what's wrong Jamil? It's in my blood to love dumb rich boys. Haven't you met my dads?"

Charlie Blake

Twisted from Chase Colt from Mistrick

A devious and dangerous student, Charlie Blake is the adopted son of two convicted killers who both have a warped sense of love. Taking after them, he chases the more affluent students in NRC hoping to find the same love his fathers have.

(I would like to just say Charlie started as a joke oc how did he get this developed help—)

Grade: Third year Dorm: Ignihyde Birthday: March 3rd (Pisces) Age: 19 Pronouns: He/Him Height: 5'8 (172 cm) Dominant Hand: Right Homeland: Uncanny Valley Club: Film Studies Best Subject: Art Hobbies: Writing Pet Peeves: Rook Hunt Favorite Food: Sweets Least Favorite Food: Meat Talent: Lockpicking

Unique Magic: Vibe Check!

The ability to determine his target's emotional state. The person targeted will feel a tingling sensation that will temporarily freeze them.

Relationships

Kalim ☀ and Jamil 🐍

Charlie hasn't spent much time with Kalim but he has spent lots of time with Jamil as a way to get close to him.

Rook Hunt 🏹

He's not a fan of Rook because he often gets in the way of Charlie's work. Rook also gives him the embarrassing nickname of "Monsieur Mini Me" which Charlie finds insulting.

Leona Kingscholar 🦁

Can't even get close to him. He tries though.

Trivia

Charlie doesn't entirely understand why he's been placed in Ignihyde (he does, it's because he's good with technology when it comes to stalking)

He's used his UM on Leona so many times that Leona just knows when it's being used

[bardic-tales]

🕊 and 🏹 for whoever you want

Hello, Jessica. I hope you are having a wonderful day or evening. Thanks for the questions.

As I am actively working on the characters of Pale Fire, I'm going to answer this for Anabelle Laure Marguerite Vasser de Spacci and Seamus Gilleán Muirin Darby Jorinuson.

🕊 how did they meet?

Anabelle and Seamus met in Lokus, a village in the Eastern kingdom. They were both Shadow Blades of the Shadow Council, my universe's assassins. The Shadow Council has sects set up in all parts of the world, but the downfall is that they tend not to communicate with each other.

Due to this, Anabelle and Shae both accepted the same contract. Seamus was new to the council, and Anabelle was still deeply affected by her part in the destruction of twin coastal cities. Annie was accompanied by Jackson, her foster father. Sean, Shae's best friend, went with him to make sure everything went smoothly as it was Seamus' first contract.

cw: assassination. abuse.

I wanted their first meeting to resemble a romantic comedy. To assassinate her target, Anabelle would serve as a priestess. She was walking down from the temple. He was walking up the path. They collided with each other. The force threw her to the ground, and he tried to catch her. He would grab the sacred sash around her waist to prevent her from falling. It would tear. She received a nasty cut on her hand from the rock she landed on. He would insist she go back to him in the room Sean and he were renting from the inn. He would ask her her name and she would say it was Ana Maria, keeping with the new identity she gave herself.

Sean forbade the union between Anabelle and Seamus as he thought something wasn't quite right about her. She didn't act like a priestess. Annie would notice combat technique from Shae that resembled the training she received in the Shadow Council and tell Jackson. Jackson denied that Shae could ever be a shadow blade and was probably a pirate. He ordered her to stay away from the Glorendine, as he is quite prejudice. After Shae asks her to marry her, this will come back later to haunt her.

This does not sway the two, as they spent more time together. They both put off the assassination. Something that should have been finished quickly was stretching out. Two weeks into their whirlwind relationship, Shae would declare he has never felt this way about someone and ask her to be his wife. She would initially refuse but would agree. Annie agreed to meet him at noon on the bridge leading into Tokus.

Meanwhile, Annie would go to her room in a different inn and collect her things. She couldn't help but tell Jackson that she was right about Shae, that he was a shadow blade. Then, she would tell him that she was going to marry Seamus.

Jackson responded by slapping her across the face. For the first time in her life, she stood up to him, kneed him in the groin, and sprinted for the door. Jackson threw a sleeping dart that struck her in the buttocks. The last thing he said to her before she fell unconscious was he would decide who she married.

Shae would go to their agreed meeting place with flowers. Every time someone approached the bridge, he would get his hopes up until he realized that Anabelle wasn't coming. He would crush the flowers in his hand and toss them over the railing before heading back to the inn for whiskey. Seamus would never know her real name.

As a note, Anabelle is very self-destructive as a result of her PTSD and often puts herself at risk. She fell hard for Seamus in those two weeks. His memory would fuel a search that would span continents and come to an end six years later when he initiates combat with the Arlette, her ship. Imagine to her surprise, Seamus was flying the colors of the Glorendt Empire, the natural enemy of the Olessans.

🏹 at what age did they meet?

Annie was 21; Seamus, 19. Seamus was young and brash. He would later tell Anabelle that he was full of "piss and vinegar" then, thinking that he could take on the world and rushing into making her his wife.

CHARACTER RELATIONSHIP QUESTIONS

[lovesse]

Go Forth Without Falter, With Your Heart As Your Guide. . .

♡ ɜ * ₊ ･ GENDERBASKET : a gendercollector / genderhoarder term for when one picks out genders like they are picking flowers for a basket. each gender in one's basket is special, and has been hand-picked by the user. the genders may feel pretty or delicate like flowers, but they do not have to.

taglist : @smilepilled @jiiamp @timmy-bee @nexolord @violetbunkuromi @bjdboyy @themothnotthemap

[venusiansilk]

🏹 CUPID’S QUIVER.

꒰ love is blind, but it sees all. although satoru should know better, love becomes a lunacy he clings to until he can’t anymore. ꒱

ᴍᴅɴɪ. f!reader. semi-curse, mythology au. angst/tragedy. fluff. soft smut. strangers to lovers ⇝ star-crossed. satoru follows the reader a lot. body worship. satoru is eros + ares, love/war god. reader is a museum director. blends aspects of cupid x psyche lore + jjk cts. 15.5k. nsfw. ୧ ‧₊ header ‧ playlist.

ACT I. UNDER THE GAZE OF LUDUS, BY SONG OF ITS LAUGHTER.

love is blind, but it sees all; love is fickle, love is knowing. it lives and dies a thrilling spectacle.

SATORU.

the delirium bred from gentleness. it inspires, emboldens, and molds the fiery depths of passion in its hands. but love is a screeching sticky thing, all madness and frenzy nonetheless, coated in complicated and bittersweet nectar that clings to whatever it dares to touch. love is satoru.

of course, satoru knows of love, embodies everything it both is and has the potential to become if made free and not contained within the divinity of his spirit. he knows that love is saccharine sweet and he knows the grip it leaves behind in flesh is bloodied, a talon embedded impossibly deep. it’s not the type of thing that breathes or expands in languid pulsations; it grasps and digs and pours, flooding you with its delusion. but a mouthpiece for mania. love is the world satoru sees through his six eyes, all contained and divided in his left eye and right — his eros, one called ardor ꒰ with its three eyes: mania, pragma, and ludus ꒱, and ares ꒰ with its three eyes: alecto, tisiphone, and megaera ꒱. love is the thick, enchanted fabric that serves as a holding for them both. cupid’s quiver, that’s what the other gods taunt — but still, their breaths catch in their throats if he motions to pull off the sheath, to unleash the world he sees on all of the others in quick and inescapable shots, the tips of blue and red eros mingling and devouring until the world is made hollow by an incendiary purple. of course, he stops himself and forbids such an outcome. after all, love is patient; love is kind. but of course, he rivals with the temptation of it, too. after all, love is greedy; love is evil. as long as he loves, there will always exist a degree of love that is something akin to hatred. truth be told, more than anything, satoru hates the gods and wishes he could leave them all to crumble under the weight of his influence, but he doesn’t want to be stuck with managing the chaos he would create with his otherwise innocent glances. and the old gods would surely try to punish him even more. he can’t find the adoration in dancing around destruction. there’s no delight in dysfunction. as such, he can’t bring himself to fold in a despicable and foolish fashion. instead, he both hides and dwells in a comfort zone — a place that’s more a margin between worlds, crafted just for him by kenjaku the phanes himself, a limbo of sorts he can stretch at will. he calls it his infinity, an endless space where he chooses to gaze upon both the mortal world and the divine. it keeps him out of harm’s way, keeps him from being made into a weapon, and keeps him from making grave mistakes like falling prey to the devastation of his own curses again. he’s not immune to a desire and need for love. he tries to satisfy his urges by living vicariously through others and satiates his impulses of distaste through semi-harmless trickery. sometimes, he tugs the left side of his quiver and lets out a soft call to signal his favorite eros, ardor. ꒰ when there’s no will, which of its eyes will peek falls to the whims of the eros. ꒱ “red,” he’ll breathe it quietly, eyes locked on a target. he’ll feel the pressure building in the center of his eye for only a moment before a shining strip of red gleams across the space between him and his target, his eros piercing through time and space to reach its mark. when it hits — depending on the strength of his eros and which of its eyes he wills to gaze — it gives the mark a burst of affection, a rush of hormones, a flutter in their chest that explodes into unyielding devotion, or perhaps, it merely sows the seeds for love to flourish and ferment — ardor does have a bias for yearning. other times, he calls himself distributing “fair misfortune” by finding individuals undeserving of ardor’s loving embrace and instead making them familiar with its cold shadow, his other eros, ares. “blue,” he’ll whisper as if afraid to be heard in the cube of his eternal silence. he’ll carefully lift the fabric over his right eye, the building of the same pressure but thicker, and he’ll watch his spiteful eros seethe and slice through anything to reach its mark. it offers only distaste on the tip of the tongue of your desired, a petulant weapon that embodies all of existence with the smallest degree of love. 

all that remains is anger and confusion, disgust and despair, revulsion and repulsion. neither of his eros ever misses a shot, but these are delights he’s only supposed to indulge in sparingly, and harmlessly. that is, until right now, as he stands in front of yuki the aphrodite, staring at her beautifully crude expression with disdain. he tries to process her odd request. “you want me to do what now?” satoru asks again, face bunching in perplexity. yuki sighs, evidently agitated by satoru’s response and demeanor. she’s always been a peculiar goddess to him, always adored and admired but never understood. no one could ever make sense of her motives, and for being the embodiment of beauty and pleasure, satoru has never seen her act in light of a beautiful spirit or intent. her poise gleams with a chimerical radiance but satoru knows her heart is a shadowless void. in front of him, she lies prettily across pearly marble, draped in robes threaded by the shimmer of stars the astraeus personally plucked from the cosmos for her. yuki’s light-colored hair flows in fluffy waves that sink to the floor, a perfect golden river to watch flow down. “you heard me. find the mortal girl choso dares to claim’s beauty can rival mine and shoot her with one of your little eros, make her fall in love with a pig or something — nothing cute, either, something ugly and brutish, one that smells of grime — and return to me so i can see for myself.” the aphrodite is ruled by her pride, by her demand to be revered and highly regarded, acknowledged for power with only insidiousness to show for it. satoru believes gods that practice no restraint and show no mercy exemplify the very things he detests about his precious blue eros, his ares. at least ares is contained, albeit forcibly. satoru’s eyes are glistening, crystalline prisons each of his eros lives behind. “i see you’ve lost your mind to vanity entirely.” satoru grumbles. “i won’t be doing that.” “what?” yuki sneers, nose squishing in irritation. with a sympathetic hum, satoru shakes his head. “i won’t be doing that and i’m insulted you’d think to even ask me — or rather, demand of me. i’m not one of your little things, yuki.” satoru stands upright, shoulders squared as he sees yuki clearly through the fabric covering his eyes. he’s immune to her wiles with his quiver, he’s found. but still, she makes him unbearably nervous. “satoru, do you forget who you speak to? i am beauty and pleasure embodied! you would really think to reject my request?” he looks around for a moment. “uh…yes. do you forget who you speak to? if you’re beauty and all the subsequent notions, why do you even care how a mortal girl’s prettiness measures?” “well,” she huffs, sitting upright, a perfect pout on her lips that any other man would become a pool of liquid over. “choso believes such a thing. choso.” confused, satoru just stares. “and that’s negating your divinely bestowed perfection how?” yuki’s frustration erupts and a cloudy fluff comes flying at his head. satoru doesn’t flinch and doesn’t move as the object hits the barrier of his infinity, and then the floor, in a soundless heap. “if you, a literal love god, can’t fathom why i don’t want choso’s eyes to stray from me, then you’re no god but a pitiful fool!” she wails. satoru sighs. “i have more important things to do in that realm than help you bully mortal girls at your discretion for taking one of your many lovers’ attention away from you without knowing you exist.” yuki clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes. “you do nothing there worth mentioning. you merely fooled kenjaku the phanes into making you a precious domain to dwell in. you’re perfectly protected from everything while nothing is protected from you, if you don’t want them to be. don’t mock me when you’re a coward fashioned as a god.”

satoru didn’t fool kenjaku, per se, but he certainly exploited his favor by exaggerating the peril associated with his capacity, so much so that kenjaku the phanes gave him a prison realm to lock himself in or free himself from at will. he goes into it habitually with a thick will but seldom contains the will to be released. it is for his safety; it is for the safety of others. but it’s more a place he can breathe freely without the fear and disdain others regularly teem with when near him. he can feel all of it, and does. being a god does not make him indestructible to the irrational whims of emotion. in fact, satoru would argue that being a creature of love’s spectrum means he is the irrational whims of emotions. ꒰ he can never teeter too far in either direction, lest kenjaku take the privilege of his will from infinity; then, he’ll only have endless imprisonment. of course, satoru can never let the other gods know of this clause, as he’s certain they’ll betray him before geto the helios’s sun sets across the pillowy skies. ꒱ the other gods are bitter, but satoru’s unusual manifestation of his divine might is deeply concerning. ꒰ when he was born, gods gouged out their eyes to be free of his gaze, to be liberated from the understanding that whether his eros of madness or bliss would strike is unknown, but the degree of its damage is devastation and ruin. brilliance followed by a rapid decay. he only controls them with his quiver. should it be taken, it would set all of chaos free in every blink. ꒱ so, what yuki says isn’t false, but it isn’t true, either. any other time, satoru would have left the vain aphrodite unfulfilled and physically shaking with the pain of his rejection, but today, satoru’s interest is admittedly piqued.

what mortal could possibly surpass beauty and grace itself?

“i’ll go see this girl, and if she’s of threat, i’ll indulge your dreadful desires, but if she’s nothing short of a mortal girl who commits no crime against humanity nor divinity by challenging your appearance — which i’m certain of — then…i’ll simply leave you to suffer the same fate as toji the apollo for wasting my time.” her eyes go wide at the sight of his nonchalant shrug and she gasps. “you! you beast of a man! honestly! you preach and prattle about this and that only to threaten to use your eros to make my lover despise me and repel my presence after making me lovesick for them? i can be no worse than you.” “objectively false, you can. and are. but it’s irrelevant to argue.” he grouses with a deep sigh. “i regretfully ask…what do you know of her?” satoru’s sickened by both the perfection and menace in her grin, but yuki lulls her head back to bask in the warmth of geto the helios’ sun.

the first time he sees you, it feels a little jarring. guided by the hands of geto’s sun, satoru finds you quickly. his awe ricochets around his spirit, bouncy and delighted, but his gaze on you — everything about you is pristine, vivid and vibrant. it stirs something in him, makes his chest erupt with fluttering feelings and feathery tickles. for a being born of the flawed, you’re too close to perfect. you’re the furthest from aphrodite and yet, your own charms are whimsical and songlike, your aura chiming around you in a sweet symphony that falls upon his spirit and strikes him with wonder. inside of a large building where the art of painters and sculptors alike are displayed, an ode to the apollo no doubt, you wander tirelessly with a chipper smile on your face and a skip in your step. your joy never falters and neither do you. your eyes are twinkling like you woke and strung the flickers of dying stars inside them for good measure. giddy, cheeks full with elation like you’re gluttonous for it. you smile and smile, and everyone smiles with you, for you, because of you. admirably charming, hands sweep around you in a flurry while your mouth makes shapes and babbles out words he can’t make out. satoru gauges your context through rigourous observation: the motions of your arms, the twitch of your smile, the little spark of curiosity in your eyes or the determination that combusts there, too. for a blink, satoru understands yuki’s frustrations with your existence. he stands there, a dreadful stirring in his heart, emotions twisting and knotting until they squeeze tight in his gut and make his right eye thrum. all of these people get to speak to you. their ears get to taste the drizzling honey of your voice. they get to receive the unfurling tenderness in their hearts from direct eye contact with you. it makes him feel ill, disgustingly ill. right away, he hates it. he becomes the pinnacle of what it means to detest. he does understand that such feelings are unreasonable, but neither love nor war is a source of reason, only madness. so of course, in self-interest and personal eccentricities ꒰ with a pinch of spite toward yuki the aphrodite to sate the crueller parts of him ꒱, he decides to watch you, to observe you closely and with great focus. for a moment, he becomes your adoring shadow, hiding within infinity’s soundless clutch where you can’t hear or see him and he’s only able to capture faint murmurs of you. he’s grateful he can see you, that no matter where you go, he can simply follow. with his limits, of course. ꒰ he’s no sukuna the zeus and certainly no yuki the aphrodite. ꒱ satoru can still admire you like this, enamored and elusive. well, until he’s standing next to you, glancing over your shoulder to read the same words you do and imagining the embosoming sound of your voice as you read them, when you turn to face him. you jolt and jump, a feathery yelp, then immediately look up at him with a soft smile, blinking to reclaim the loss in your composure. your lips are misshapen by the fright you swallow down as you take notice of him. “oh goodness! you scared me. d-do you need help with anything?” satoru stands there, dazed and stupefied for a few reasons: 

one. you can see him, which means he let his will to keep his infinity standing tall waver. two. your voice is drenched in silky allure, a touch of benevolence over a thick layer of compassion. three. you’re utterly bewitching, a spellbinding loveliness that lingers. four. he can sense your saffron ghost seeping into spaces it shouldn’t; he knows the scent of you will be what haunts him.

a small gasp, your words threaded by worry as you cautiously place a hand on his arm. “sir, do you have a visual impairment? did you lose your aid?” “no, no,” satoru breathes. “i see quite clearly. my eyes…they’re…sensitive.” you blink, riddled with confusion. “sensitive?” taking in his words, you hurriedly take a step back from him, a flimsy infinity of your own to keep him out. he’s no sukuna, so he’ll respect the obvious boundary you’re placing. “then…” your voice trails, quieter now, a lullaby’s endeavor, cautious but calculating as you observe him. “is there something you’re looking for?” and satoru isn’t entirely certain why, but he feels bashful, embarrassed, and ashamed. the tint of roseate spills across his face, filling the point of his nose and cheeks. then, in an instant, he’s gone from your vision, safely tucked behind a thick wall of space and time, watching your eyes go round with astonishment, paralyzed and unable to speak. he watches you blink at the spot he stood for a few minutes before you slowly reach your hand out and run it through the space. satoru, amused but still flustered, can’t fight the breathy chuckle that tumbles out of him. he watches the alarm contort your face, finding your deep state of confusion adorable by every perceivable measure. a beauty that rivals that of the aphrodite? no, one that surpasses it.

ACT II. A GARDEN IN WHICH ONLY MANIA BLOOMS.

love is blind but it sees all; love is protection, love is obsession. it snarls as much as it sings. it bares teeth to smile and to bite down.

love is blind, but it sees all; love is an open palm, love is a tight fist. it clings to only notions that mean it will persist.

SATORU.

satoru feels that keeping his closeness is inevitable. his presence becomes more like a game he plays with you. you wander around and he matches your every step, a lingering thing that follows you pathetically and waits for you to look for him, waits for your inquisitive, questioning eyes to sweep the span of the room in knowing suspicion, remembering him and his interesting marvels. his disappearing acts. aside from that, he can feel the way your heart yearns for an explanation, as desire is a direct line to he and the favor of ardor. his heart thumps each time he’s flooded with the feeling of your meek tug on him. the warmth of you is always everywhere then, filling and shaping around his bones. he likes to appear before you when he catches you ruminating about him, when you wrestle with your notions in your lonesome as if to breed the thought that he was summoned by you rather than obsessively taking every step with you. he only does it when you’re at this place where your labor is kindness and assistance, watching you relentlessly. only when you’re here, only when you come to this altar where toji the apollo himself would weep at the worship mortals have made of his artistic devotions. only when you willfully become part of this public spectacle. it feels fair and respectfully intrusive.

since we’re all here to observe you.

that’s his discipline with himself, how he stops his heart from rotting from the pleasures of luxuriating in the sight of you, how he stops ardor or ares from making a mess of his divinity entirely, both monsters but harmless so long as he maintains his sanity. a smirk as his infinity dissolves. “are you thinking about me again?” satoru never tires of the way you squeak when he casually unveils himself. only fondness ferments in his chest when your eyes widen and your hands fly over your mouth to conceal the sound of sharp surprise. you always stare at him in awe for a moment. “you,” you murmur, your hand pointing right at him. satoru sighs with a smile. “me,” he watches you go through the motions of disbelief — slapping your own face and pinching your cheeks to test the limits of your dreams. “why do you keep doing this?” you inquire in distress, brows furrowed as you clutch your head in your hands. “are you a ghost?” satoru can’t fight the way his lips curl into a smile as he cracks a heart-shimmering laugh. “you think i’m an apparition?” “i don’t know what i think!” you whisper harshly, eyes pointing around the perimeter as you fear being heard talking to yourself. again. “okay? but there’s no way you’re real. i’m losing it.” “real or false, you worry about the wrong things, i fear.” he informs you as he rests in a seat. “i keep telling you exactly who i am.” you give him a hard look, one that he adores as much as the smile you reserve for your patrons, and you snort. “as if i believe you’re the love god, cupid.” “cupid is such a weak-willed name you mortals have plagued me with. even the other gods spite me over it. it’s nowhere near as bolstering as satoru the eros, love and war’s divine archer.” he announces himself in a wistful voice that makes the corner of your mouth subtly twitch. your face painted in feigned surprise, you ask, “you? a divine archer?” “yes, me. a divine archer. is that amusing?” his head leans to the side as he notes your biting smile. “no, no,” you shake your head. “it’s just…you don’t seem like the kind with good aim? you know, perpetual blindfold and all.” satoru huffs a laugh. “looks are as deceiving as love and war.” “hm…” you look him over critically, a finger resting against your chin before you motion at his body. “if you’re cupid and an archer, where’s your bow? and your arrows? wings? why aren’t you more cherub-like?” satoru’s lips curl and curve in disgust of your notion. “cherub-like? i’d rather die. i don’t need your useless, manmade tools. my eyes are my bow; the eyes of my eyes are my arrows. this perpetual blindfold is a quiver that holds them, lest i douse the world in the devoted delusions of love in its totality and leave it bleeding out war, an endless wound that cannot dissolve until nothing is left. you would never want to see my wings. it would mean the aforementioned.” baffled and mortified, that’s how his tactless remarks leave you. you awkwardly squeak and clamp your lips shut tight, looking down as your eyes squint in confusion. “i…forget i asked.” you jostle your head as if to shake away the memory of his admission. “even if you actually are cupid, your true title’s too long. carving it in stone and etching it in gold would’ve been a big hassle for such a morbid freak.” satoru’s eyes narrow, masked by his quiver. “are you mocking me, pretty thing?” “considering i think i’ve lost my mind, i’m mocking myself.” you grumble and grip your head. “how do i make you go away? how do i get you out of my mind?” he hums, a finger tapping on his chin before he shrugs and chirps, “you don’t.” you pause, cocking your head to the side. “what do you mean?”

“i mean…” he stands and stretches to his full height. “i’ve taken an interest in you, and i don’t see myself growing apathetic anytime soon. the scandal of it all is thrilling enough; everyone in the olympus murmurs about the mortal girl that supposedly rivals even aphrodite’s beauty, but only myself and two others have actually seen you. i can’t say i’ve had my fill of being greedy with you.” for a moment you’re quiet, staring at him as you take in his words. then, you clutch your gut as you begin bellowing. you laugh so loudly it startles him. it sends him into the center of a blossoming, though, an abrupt descent. the sound of it makes his heart burst with a fondness so sweet, his head feels airy and light. if you could see his eyes, you would witness the moment he falls into a pool of ensnared devotion and drowns. instead, you hear him huff as his palms curl into tender fists. “now i know you’re lying.” you say through giggles. “is this an elaborate pick-up scheme? me, a rival of aphrodite’s beauty? who says that?” even his irritation is polluted by admiration and passion. “it’s only the truth. you caught the eye of choso the aether. that’s one of the gods the aphrodite enjoys tinkering with so it’s left her feeling embarrassed and looked down on. she wants me to have a look at you…and humble you.” “h-humble me?” you sputter nervously, every spark of humor dying on your breath. it doesn’t take an oracle to determine the conclusion you arrive at. satoru shakes his head, stepping closer out of instinct. of course, you aren’t aware of how grossly comfortable he’s become ingulding in your proximity. he rests a palm on your head, the weight of it making you groan. “your pretty head is full of useless worries. i’ll never harm you in any way.” it’s the first time satoru truly touches you. everything sings; everything shines. all of it shimmers. your brows bunch and your nose wrinkles, an adorable habit he stores away. “then…are you really just here to watch me?” “eh, no,” he shakes his head, grinning. “i’m intended to make you fall in love with something as hideous and unsightly as yuki’s bruised perception wishes you were, but i’ve decided i won’t indulge her antics of vanity this time.” he pats your head and withdraws, afraid to take too much too soon, afraid for his already consuming desire to become so willfully edacious. you give him a pointed look but your eyes never leave him. “but you’ll indulge yourself?” satoru grins and gives a simple response, one he stuffs to its brim with rhapsody and playfulness as it slips from his lips. “without hesitation. i didn’t find you first but i’ll be the one to keep you.” “who knew a love god would be so shameless.” his response is a recital, an avowal memorized in its every angle by his tongue, without falter, something embedded he exhumes just to dedicate to you. large hands cradle your face, his voice a poem unraveling, “love is blind but it sees all; love is pride, love is humility. it stands, stretched to the full height of its glory, and it kneels, sinking into the depths of its reverence.” satoru watches your moony expression form and his lips curve. “you don’t even know me.” you murmur, wispy and uncertain but still coated in captivation. quipped from a clever god, “then tell me what you want me to know. i’ll master you — mind, body, and spirit. whatever you wish.” you stare, concern filling your every breath, tainting every second you spend peering into him. blinking, you watch him before your eyes flicker down. “this…this isn’t real. it can’t be.” “so you circle back to doubt?” satoru snickers, pulling away from you as he observes you with a cocked head. “have i truly not convinced you of my existence? surely you don’t believe if i were an apparition that you, in all your naivety and mortality, would even have the means to perceive me.” your face drops, possibly insulted by truth. “are you calling me weak and stupid?”

“weak? yes. although, you really can’t help it. you mortals are born a frail people. stupid? i wouldn’t assign such an attribute to you, no.” you huff, indignant, and look off to the side. “whatever you’re implying, i resent it.” “you’re merely human. you have shortcomings you can’t help and sight in which you lack. not to ring the horn of hubris, but should you not show gratitude to a god that chooses you to gaze upon him?” you stare at him blankly before asking — no, sneering, “should i have to show gratitude for being followed home and watched?” a foolish grin. “i’ve never followed you home. rest assured, i keep a tight grip on my own vices. i try to behave from time to time.” “is that so?” you grumble, disbelieving. “it is so.” satoru sighs, his tone resolute and carved out of his disgust. “i’m a god of love, not of perversities. i’m no sukuna the zeus. i would rather you think me an apparition, a falsehood, than be thrown into a cast of similarities with him.” there’s traces of a laugh bubbling up, but you cough it away, much to satoru’s amusement. “is…zeus as awful as the myths say?” “it depends on what they say, but he’s likely worse.” satoru grouses in disdain. sukuna the zeus is not one with an ounce of good or mercy in his heart. born a monster of a god with a taste for man, sukuna has shown he only wishes to watch all the realms move to the tune of his malevolent volatility. you take a breath and plop down to rest in your chair at the small personal table. “i can’t believe this is my life. sitting in my office talking to a love god about the sincere realities of mythology and deities.” he hums, perching himself on the corner of the table. “does this not make you blessed?” “being followed around sounds closer to a curse.” he lies, because love is honest but love is deceiving. “i have important duties to tend to, i’ll have you know. i don’t waste all my spare time observing your precious whims.” it’s a blatant, seething lie, a vibrant and colorful one he’ll parade as the truth to preserve his pride. he does waste all his spare time observing your every whim. he’s honest in his commutes, not ever following you home outside the walls of this dimly-lit den. although, the desire to eats away at him. ares howls frequently in the night. there’s force in the pull your passing thoughts have on him, but he can never tell you how you leave indents in his spirit whenever you think of him, whenever you ruminate on your musings of his eyes, your irrepressible thirst to see them and name their pigment, when you’re lost in your wonderings of him, when you yearn for his peculiar presence. all of it makes him putty. all of it squeezes and stretches him. all of it changes his shape. “w-well, if you’re going to keep this up, i obviously can’t stop you. i ask that you maintain respectful boundaries, including not appearing so abruptly before me.” satoru merely smiles down at you —smitten— absolutely adoring you in every way. “i will…abide by whatever words you wish to use as chains to keep me here.” emboldened by your charm and indulging a bit too much in his own ardor’s blissful blood, satoru grabs your hands, cradles them in his own as he peers into your glittering eyes. it’s then that he notices the way you look back at him as if you can see right through every barrier he’s made, every one that was forced on him, every one he hid behind. right to the core of him. it feels like although he controls the war brewing in his irises by tucking his weapons behind a sheath, he doesn’t have to hide. not from you. he conceals his eyes but you look at him as if they gaze bare. satoru brings your soft fingers to his lips, supple flesh tingling against your hands with the soothing vibrations of the cosmos. “i will…” he breathes. “…adore you, if you allow me. protect you with my life. make your heart as immortal as mine in the way i only speak eternal devotion over you.”

enchanted, your lips part and he feels the way yearning passes through first in a soft pant. he feels you pulling on him, tugging on his heartstrings. making his eros tremble. ardor’s will to pledge fealty to the flutter of your lashes as you wake; ares’ promise to ravage all that oppose or threaten you. instead of accepting his declaration, you ask, “w-what’s so special about me? what do you do that’s so uninteresting that you would…adore me, of all things. of all people.” what does he do in the time he’s away? a sleepless god, he waits until you leave for rest to find other things to do. he goes where love calls him, where it pulls him closer and begs for his embrace. “i love, of course. i do my best to keep war from erupting as a result of it by helping others love in doses. i watch, mostly. sometimes i play.” you ask, with an airy tone of confusion, “play?” he nods. “as i’m a war god, i have to release my inevitable frustrations somewhere. gently, of course. i wouldn’t want to leave the world in ruin…again.” satoru chuckles, soft lips leaving feathery kisses all along your fingers. one. two. three blinks. a frantic whisper. “leave…the world in ruin? again?” suddenly, you pull your hands from his grasp and he lets them slip through. he isn’t surprised by your reaction. in retrospect, perhaps he should have eased you into that fact. you seem to be in disbelief over his identity already. “well, yes. there was a time when i was a young god that traipsed the heavens and below causing all the trouble i could with my eros. i’ve matured so don’t concern yourself with my past.” it’s then that the door swings open to your office. as fast as they push through, satoru’s infinite prison is up and so is he. the sudden streams of voices become muffled, dull and blurry. he watches you, a look of deep contempt taking his expression as you keep glancing right where he stands — when you could see him before these new mortals came to interrupt — before they bulldozed through to steal your eyes and attention away from him again. gritted teeth and a clenched fist, this is how he’s left. ares simmers at the slight of it all, the derogative undertones in satoru not having you to himself when he wants and having to accept such a condition without qualms. satoru adores you, thinks the words you speak make you shine brighter than geto’s sun. he thinks the way you smile would make yuki the aphrodite vengeful. but he hates being at the mercy of you and your fragille, mortal dealings. he wants you back right now. ardor soothes him, reminds him of his commandments while he waits and watches you tensely. like a mantra, he hears it over and over until his breathing steadies.

love is blind but it sees all; love is tender smiles and loosened flesh, love is temperance and tolerance. it is the willingness we make labors of.

it doesn’t take much time before satoru becomes visibly perturbed by the constant intrusions and obligations that stand in the way of the words he wants to hear flutter from your lips, velvet petals of sweet sentiment falling softly over him. instead, his efforts are often interrupted, often put on hold or silenced to tend to the incompetence of your underlings. it’s becoming tiresome; he makes no move to hide his grievance. he tells himself to breathe. he can feel something monstrous and thick filling his gut. a sludge of an emotion, weighing on all of him, stickiness slinking up the cavity of his torso, caching all of him. it takes every modicum of his will not to be petulant and do the same with you, pull you into the walls of his infinity, an extension of the lover’s prison, so only he has the privilege of gazing over the object of his affection and obsession. you — the one who inspires the poetry in his blood to boil. ares hums within him, makes his right eye feel heavy, delighted by the envious rush and what it makes satoru envision.

she’ll never have the time i deserve with her, that belongs to me. it would be an easy problem to solve. she’ll hate me of my own accord.

of course, ardor reminds him of love’s addictive embrace, to loosen his grip to maintain his strong footing. acts of war are easy, but acts of love feel better. he prefers it. he prefers you. to all others. he knows what it means to have you and the sacrifice that comes with keeping you. a pretty and sparkling treasure, laden with novelty for him to marvel at and little mechanisms that make him feel content. together. he takes a deep breath, and finds himself unclenching his hands as he sits, stretching his fingers to loosen the tension. satoru closes his eyes; he meditates on ardor’s fervent whispers which usually he subdues to know mental clarity and peace.

love is patient; love is kind. love holds the weight of its temptations.

in contrast, ares seethes.

love is imposing; love is momentum. love holds the weight of its triumphance. it never cowers in the face of restraint.

satoru sighs and drowns out their never-ending bickering.

satoru watches how time trudges on, and stretches itself thin between the two of you. he remains ardent and attached, endlessly and proudly devoted to you. the sticky feeling comes back one late afternoon when satoru dutifully follows you into the elevator, unseen and unheard. as he does each day to bid you a silent goodbye, squeezing out every second of your presence he can. all things follow their natural rhythm — until, the presence of another lingers for no reason. he smiles too endearingly at you, and touches your shoulder too casually. satoru can feel it rolling off this man, obviously an underling, but has no boundaries in how he approaches you. clearly above him in every facet, satoru’s distaste and resentment bubble to life, face scrunching up in disgust. the man reeks of it, his fondness for you. his longing. in his infinity, he dwells in swelling silence, his insides in tightly-wound knots. satoru’s chest rises and falls — his stiffened shoulders, too. ares bursts to life when he sneers, angry eyes zoned in on the wretched man.

the audacity to desire her so openly while being so weak and undeserving.

for a moment, satoru’s fingers twitch. he shouldn’t do it. he told himself that he wouldn’t with you, never with you. and yet, satoru can’t help the way he reaches up and pinches the top half of his quiver, the barrier that holds in the rapture his gaze would cause to dawn on all that exists. he does his best to keep the effects small, hardly noticeable but effective. peeling down the cover of his quiver, calling on ares eye of megaera, his eros of disgust, satoru watches a blue stripe swipe across the air, penetrate through all it must, and catch you on the left side of your neck. you don’t wince, but when it hits you, your eyes blink rapidly, as if just given some injection that you feel shooting into your veins. as you stand before him, satoru watches with satisfaction as your eyes — once alight with delight and trading even the faintest drop of desire — go dark and dull. your facial expression falls, your smile fading and emptiness taking its place. a grin spreads across his face, pleased now. he isn’t sure what you say but he watches the man’s eyes widen slightly before his brows crinkle in confusion and you offer him a professional salutation, your body language straight and alert, then you walk right around the underling, continuing on with a slight roll of your shoulders, shaking off ares’ excess, he’s sure.

what is one more secret?

and yes, satoru will tuck it away with him, another truth he hides under the pink of his tongue with glee.

love is honest, love is true; love has no need to tremble behind the cowardice of manipulation.

and for a moment, satoru does feel guilty. but when you exit the building, he waits for a moment and appears right next to you, his infinity down. he doesn’t usually try to pass the boundaries but as you walk away, his feet continue to follow, as if their departure is beyond his will. “if you’re thinking of following me home, don’t.” you grumble sharply, picking up the speed in your steps. “the nerve,” satoru’s head tilts to the side in wonder. 

are you aware?

“i’ll stay here, if you wish.” satoru says, stopping just at the edge of the property. “i’ll be here when you return tomorrow.” when you hear his voice, you pause and turn to face him. you seem shocked to see him, perhaps regarding his presence as the underling he handcrafted your fresh disgust toward. you blink, the edge on your voice dissipating as you reply. “i…i didn’t think i’d see you again today.” satoru takes a careful step forward. “i didn’t know you wished to. i only planned to watch you leave, but you seemed particularly…upset.” for a moment, you just stand there. satoru takes your contemplation and tilts his head back, basking in the warmth of the helios’ vibrant sun and grins to himself, feeling his insides ablaze with his admittedly orchestrated glory. he can feel you tugging on his heartstrings, of course he can. especially when it’s all for him. “don’t want me too much or i might start getting the wrong idea, pretty thing.” bashful, you shy away, tilting your face with the softest sigh. he doesn’t mean to make you nervous but he’s had enough of playing coy and never fully defining the lines of which your boundaries are drawn or willing to stretch. cautiously, his hands clutch your shoulders, nearly breathless from the warmth in his belly, nearly dizzy from feeling himself grant your desires and resolve your yearning. you want him to touch you; you want daring fingers to ghost along your skin. but his touches now are more innocent in fashion, fond at best. “tell me what you want, pretty.” he murmurs, his hidden eyes gazing over the features of your face, a thick thumb brushing over your plump lip. “i’ve chosen to adore you, so naturally i’ll give you anything of which you desire and derive pleasure.” you don’t notice when his infinity reaches out to hold you, to cradle your frame. you don’t notice that the sounds of the world around you muffle and go numb, sucked into his embrace that stretched on through eternity. soft and feathery, your response flutters, “you can walk home with me, but i…i won’t let you inside.” ardor’s spirit blazes within him — emboldened and vivacious, ready to relish in new proximity. a chuckle rumbles in his chest; a sly grin spreads across his lips. “any time spent in the presence of my beloved is time i deeply cherish.” you’re flustered — hot face and wet lips, side-swiped eyes and a wary glance. but still, you walk alongside him, snug in his infinity, step by step.

ACT III. THE DILIGENCE OF PRAGMA’S EMBRACE.

love is blind, but it sees all; love is expansive, love is all-consuming. it takes even the shape of nothingness, clings to its empty form, and stretches it further.

love is blind, but it sees all; love is faith, love is lingering. it would wait an eternity at an entrance it knows with unearned certainty will open.

SATORU.

time flows on, and satoru weaves himself around adoration with ease, your name a flowering breath on his lips whenever the time permits. you entertain his senseless notions. you wait for him, more voracious and fervid as days move along, as if it’s all you ever have to do. your melodic laughter travels down the beautiful marble-plated halls, the waves of its sound etched into the ridges of intricate designs that decorate the ceiling and line the floors. he tunes his infinity to your perception, stretching it around the whole of you, making it wider to mold around the specificities of your shape, around the breathiness of your voice. an endless indention in himself just for you. all so the symphonic outburst of your elation is only his to hear, his joy to cultivate and claim. all naturally, too. he thinks he adores that most about you. loving you is a natural reaction to mingling with your existence. the fondness and affection that seeps out of you when he lets himself freely feel your call remains untouched by his divine eyes. he keeps them securely imprisoned behind his quiver. he swears he’ll never let them touch you again since his last provocation. he doesn’t need to anymore. he has so much of your attention that he no longer reasons the necessities of envy, jealousy, or spite of all things. but still, indulgent as ever, he’ll always take as much of you as you’re willing to give. gluttony is as fair as war in love, to him. “are you nearly ready to go?” satoru grumbles, watching as you make furious clacking noises at your desk. “all this dreadful noise. what are you doing?” you snort. “i’m typing. i’m a museum director. i both receive and deliver emails.” “your typing is tedious and the sound is awful. does it not annoy you in the slightest?” shrugging, your eyes never leave your screen. “it’s just what i’m used to. you should be used to the sound by now, considering you never go away while i’m working.” “false,” he protests with a pout. “i make myself scarce for your little…conclaves.” your typing pauses and your eyes dart up to stare at him for a moment. “my meetings are fundamental to my position here which, again, is funda—” “fundamental to your livelihood…yes, yes, i know. we all know as you only force this mantra on us every chance that presents itself. you’re worse than ardor. are you not tired?” “of you? sometimes. of my job? yes.” a short response as your typing resumes, tormenting him with enforced patience. he shifts, sitting up in the tufted chair he always drags next to you and sinks down into to sulk about waiting for your attention. “do you prefer me over this place?” is all satoru hears in your sometimes and inquires about. “what do you like most about me?” you laugh. “like about you? nothing at all.”

there’s a quiver in your words; you lie. of course you do, love is pride, after all.

satoru takes your hand, ever brave, ever dauntless. he brings your curved knuckles to his lips. any other time you would shake off his affectionate pestering, but your desire sings as you feel his lips graze over the ridges and dips of your fingers. “well, my most beloved, i like everything about you.” your body shifts and your head snaps in his direction, eyes lingering on him, curious and probing. “is that so?” a terse nod. “it is so. i adore you. i love you. i’ll linger here for as long as you do.” today, he hears something new. it’s something small and playful, uttered under a meek tone and a thick blanket of apprehension, but he hears it ring true above it all — the love. “you did swear to protect me, after all.” satoru smiles, strengthened by all the ways in which you make his heart weak. “of course, i’ll commit to my devotions.” wispily. fluttering. adoringly you sigh, “as you should.” ardor and ares both coat his tone. “for you, i’ll do anything.”

these days satoru walks you home; these days satoru slips inside quietly after you, your hand laced obligingly in his — tugging and pulling, all pining and impatience. closer. you always want him closer. his hands are always greedy and grabby, taking what he wants in the name of pleasure, but they become gluttonous monsters when the door closes. your hips are taut to his as he presses you to the wall, your cheek cold against the dull-toned paint and drywall, his warm tongue licking stripes from your collarbone up to your ear. his pants huff into your ears, steamy and thick; your wet whimpers graze against the wall, all of it enticing him, making him grip you even harder — one hand with fingers digging into your hips, one gripping your jaw to prep your lips for an engrossing kiss. it’s not enough but he can’t wait on enough. satoru tugs you along to your bedroom, his muscles flexing and twitching with need. it’s taking everything not to spread you wide on the hallway floor. once your bed is in sight, you’re pushed onto your back, your hands gripping the fabrics of his finely stitched robes to pull him down with you. the thickness of satoru’s knee is a median between your legs to keep them pried apart while his large body hovers. one arm above your head, the other gripping your hand and knotting your fingers in his.

“do you know what you’ve done to me?” he breathes shakily, lips still pillowing over yours as he leans his forehead against your own. “do you know how hard it was to resist you today?” “no, i don’t. tell me.” playful words woven between passionate kisses. his lips latch to your neck, grunting as he loses his silent battle with his urge to bite and pinch your skin. “near impossible. you mortals are different. everything clings to you so perfectly. and all day. all day. all i could think of was getting my hands on you, caressing your curves, kissing every inch of you.” satoru wants to love you like this — obsessively, indulgent to the point of painful, unbridled with need forged from greed. he laps at your neck, impish whines elicited from you with every motion. “you controlled yourself well. good boy.” amusement and arousal blend together on your tongue; he wants to know the taste of it. “don’t patronize me like an animal.” satoru grits, untangling your hands to hike up the fabric of your skirt and part your thighs. “i’m a god, not your plaything, not your little pet.” wit unrelenting, he can hear the smirk on your lips. “well…you do follow me around like a lost puppy.” “if i went anywhere else, my love would surely have a fit.” he muses, nipping at your neck with playful force, making you yelp underneath him. lips trail down with ease and your fingers slide into thick, pearly tufts. “this is true. maybe i should get you a leash.” “hush,” he growls, biting you in spite. you tug his hair, pulling the god by his nape, granting you a lewd sound, a mewl so slick and pathetic it wets the air. his mouth collides with yours in a sloppy kiss, tongues lapping over the other, a whimpering mess as he tears away at the intricately woven robes that always drown him. it reveals all of him to you: every curve of his build, the long and toned limbs, broad-shouldered and big, every inch of thickness in his muscles, the glaze of lust that glistens in the way all of him flexes with every staggered breath. you get all of him. leaking length and all. the fabric of your skirt bundled up the top of your thighs, your legs parted before him — his hands can’t help but wander in curiosity and delight. ardor compels him to hold you close, to keep your skin flush against his, a warmth he can sigh into. ares compels him to grab and grip and claw the pleasure right out of your body to claim for himself, doomed to the brutality and ferocity of need.

“i don’t mean to be impatient, but i don’t want to wait anymore. i can’t.” he rasps and whines. “i can’t wait. i need to feel you around me.”

that’s as much forewarning as he can give before he yanks down your panties and pushes his way between slick folds, a relieved moan as he buries himself inside and grips your thigh for steadiness, releasing it once he establishes a slow but thorough rhythm. each time his thrusts carry him back into you, your moans fill the air and your hands travel needily down his back. “my love,” he breathes shakily. satoru nuzzles his face into your neck, panting heavily as he moves his hips slowly, enjoying the tepid feeling of your walls and the pleasure of tight embrace. he bites down, needy teeth seeking grounding, and grunts from the feeling of unyielding bliss blossoming in his gut. a soft mewl, tender and hesitant. “s-satoru,” “perfect.” he sighs, his hips melting into yours. “let me hear you.” and you do. only a language of urgency spoken between your bodies, the bed a culture of devotion and cacoethes. your hands, ever-enthused maunderers, travel through ivory tussocks and tug, oh so innocently, on the knot of fabric tied around the middle of his head.he stiffens. his movements still but he breathes heavily. “don’t.” he moves his palm from grasping and clutching the meat of your thigh, now reaching to wrangle in the explorations of one of your trespassing hands. he locks his fingers around yours, hips rocking while he brings them to his lips, kitten licks accompanied by a chorus of both your whines. “what? you never remove it. i want to see your eyes. you’re my lover.” your voice is enchanted by love and inspired. in love with him. truly and genuinely in love. he can feel it fluxing and flowing throughout him, starting from his sternum, lotus-like and flowering, each time he pushes in, feeling your yearning explode inside him while you pulse around him. the taste of adoration is sweet when he kisses you, too. “i know.” a tender mumble. “but my eyes are unlike yours. i can stay by your side for all of time. i can make it so eternity never separates us, but you can never look into my eyes, okay?” your fingers squeeze his tight, but your voice is soft and shaky, trembling as you take his slow grinding. “is this…a god’s problem?” satoru’s kisses are erratic and consuming—mixtures of plump pecks, a lapping tongue, and gentle tugs on your lips. the only constant is the ferocity of his panting: in your mouth, on your skin, in the dips and crevices of flesh he finds. he nods as he keens and whispers, a twinge in his heart, “this god’s curse.” “okay.” your free hand still clutching his hair, you grip and tug until he lifts his head to face you, all to leave a gentle kiss on his lips. “i love you. as long as i can have you by my side, i don’t have to see anything you don’t want me to see. i’ll be curious, but i won’t peek.” there’s a swelling in his chest that makes him think he may just burst, a rupture of exaltation and honor. full and clinging to new feelings of closeness. satoru chuckles and pecks your lips again and again, more pressure applied with each kiss to ensure his devotions are sealed by another. “are you becoming sweet for me?” “i’d rather die.” the sneer in your voice becomes a sigh sung to the tune of ecstasy. a giddy smile. another nip at your bruising flesh, a rush of love in the quickening pace of his hips.  “you know…i’ll never let that happen.”

he feels it first in the dead of night, sukuna the zeus and his incessantly demanding calls, but he doesn’t leave right away. he can’t. you’re wrapped around him, limbs entangled with his as usual. you’re resting peacefully. your heart is calm. he can’t ruin that. he won’t. your arms are locked around his frame, clutching him with all the strength you can. your breathing is steady and relaxed, head tucked under his chin. you’ve been sleeping more, sleeping better, since he started staying. you’re more refreshed upon waking. your smile, already knee-weakening and dazzling in its composite to satoru, is even more brilliant, more authentic. and truthfully, he isn’t ready to leave your grasp. your hands are the only things that know how to hold him well. they’re calling and calling, reaching and reaching — all the gods. he can feel the irritation of their desire to see him unfurling throughout his body, tainting the time he wants to spend being foolishly in love with you, and he subdues it. he’s not hiding out so much as he’s settling in and making a home. infinity is only fair if it includes you, too; reality is only full if it includes him. satoru spends a lot of time finding a fair balance between both. sometimes he gets to hold you in the comfort of your room, his infinity a blanket over you both, spending the night staring into an ether and relishing in the pinnacle of safety he feels while you sleep. ardor fills him with hymns of new avowals, each like a little burst of accomplished joy, in marvel at its new, unique discoveries.

love is security. love is sanctuary. love is an idle season. love is stillness. love is ease. love is rest. love is staying even longer. love is waiting for tomorrow. love is hold me. love is let me.

when your eyes flutter awake, the sorrow cascades and drenches him. it’s harder for him to leave when you’re so committed to doing the things he adores, such as gracing the dawn of day with your waking breath and sleepy eyes, your languid movements, the way you tangle yourself more intricately with him. “pretty thing,” he dotes fondly. satoru leaves a soft kiss on your forehead first. he drinks up your sigh, gentle and drowsy, then presses his next kiss to the tip of your nose. your morning eyes peer; he kisses both cheeks in tender succession. you hum happily. “g’morning.” “mine,” hushed and sweet as he finally kisses your lips, lingering. “a g’morning indeed.” you pout and narrow your eyes. “are you making fun of me? i’ll kick you out.” “i would never.” he mumbles in amusement. “i have to leave regardless. so take my love while you have the chance. don’t waste time being bratty about it.” he says it casually, the privilege of an immortal god’s tongue at the prospect of time passing. but you freeze and stare with suddenly widened eyes. “lea…ving?” you murmur, head tilted as if confused by the word, as if averse to the feeling of it on your tongue. you sit up abruptly, looking at him in shock. “are you leaving me?” satoru could have cried from the fear in your voice. the slight quiver, the heightened pitch, and all the anguish swimming around your eyes in anticipation. they glisten and all of him crumbles to dust. “not forever,” he assures you and rises to embrace you. “i’ll be back, but i do have to go and it might be for a while.” “what? satoru, what are you talking about? you never said anything about leaving.” your voice is pained and ringing with betrayal. “so you’re just leaving?” he sighs deeply, keeping you up against his chest. “i’ve been bothered for weeks now by other gods and now the zeus is involved. i can’t exactly ignore him despite wanting to.” “you said you would stay by my side.” when satoru hears you sniffle, he tries to make sense of the shame he feels unravelling in his gut. he tries to understand how this might feel for you, insecurely attached to his presence but loving him this much despite it only to be told at random you’re being left for an unforeseeable amount of time. he finds himself pleading because right now it feels like love is humility and love is kneeling. “please,” he murmurs. “i’ll be back. no matter what, i’ll be back. don’t be angry with me. i love you so much. please.” somehow, it only makes the soft crying become longer and louder. “i’m not crying because i’m angry at you! i’m crying because i wasn’t expecting it and i’ll miss you.” it takes him one hour to tell you he’ll miss you, too, without words and emotion betraying him. it takes two for him to be willing to peel himself away from you long enough to say goodbye. he wonders if he’ll recover from the feeling of you yearning for his return before he even fully departs.

ACT IV. BITE MARKS IN THE SHAPE OF MAGAERA’S DISGUST.

love is blind but it sees all; love is clarity, love is contradiction. it blurs the lines of lunacy and devoutness with intent — lucid and deliberate — all to live there.

YOU.

from the dawn of the week, everything is unusual. first, satoru is called away to the olympus out of the blue and can’t fully disclose why. now gone for the third day with no contact, your anxiety is heightened and lengthened, wondering if it was all an elaborate dream bred of illness. then, your work days are full of random hiccups and hang-ups. all the odds are seemingly against you. the only thing championing this experience is your ability to long for him. now, as you arrive home, you’re met with the most peculiar sight. a tall, paler woman, sparkling with beauty in the glimmer of the sun, with long and flowing locks of gold that reach the ground; the tresses gleam, too. she stands as still as a statue and as beautiful as any artwork, her every feature chiselled to perfection. as you walk up to your door, her eyes catch you and a slow smile stretches across supple lips.

captivating but daunting.

you notice her clothing, light and twisted white fabrics, the familiar and cosmic-looking twinkles woven into the seams. you’re instantly reminded of those intricate twists you watch satoru perform dutifully. you wonder, for a moment, if this is someone satoru knows — a goddess, perhaps. “uh…hello,” you chirp sweetly, smiling just as prettily. you watch the woman’s face go blank in an instant. all expression vanishes, her star-like eyes flittering with something you can’t quite name. awkwardly, your gaze darts before looking at her once more. “are you looking for someone?” for a moment, she merely observes you with a blank expression. but then, a soft tenderness tugs at her features, tugs at your heart to bear witness, and she smiles. “you must be the mortal thing that’s kept him hidden all this time.” her voice is a song, sweet and melodic. so soothing you miss the way she sharply eyes you up and down, sneering. “this is all?” she sounds confused in her asking, quiet for a moment, and then holding her curved waist tightly while her laughter becomes a symphony in the air around you. your heart dives into your gut, enamored by her presence and natural grace. “here i was thinking his extended absence was a witness of my disgrace but they were all useless worries. of course! i knew they would be. they must! yuki the aphrodite, the divine vessel of beauty and desire, could never truly be bested by the blemishes of mortality’s weakness to time.” you don’t know it right then, but the day you meet this goddess, yuki the aphrodite, the divine vessel of beauty and desire, your life is doomed to descend into a flurry of utter chaos. “i—sorry, who are you?” you ask, trying to shake away the foginess of your mental state. “are you…is it satoru you’re looking for?” she sighs, mumbling to herself. “i suppose i shouldn’t waste the efforts of my venture.” “what was that?” you ask, struggling to make sense of her words. your thoughts are muddled by her pristine presence. “no,” she finally replies, roseate eyes twinkling and capturing all your wonder. “i’m here for you, mortal girl. i have something of great importance to discuss. take me in and prepare your offerings for me.”

you don’t believe her; you trust him — you don’t want to believe her; you want to trust him. doubt creeps in slowly in the dead quiet of the night, a languid steep when you’re sleeping and you can’t go with him, when you realize you can never go with him. 

'mortals don’t set foot in the divine realm the same way the living don’t set foot in the underworld.'

he’s vague in the details of his disclosure. before, satoru used to be so honest, he became tactless and blunt. now, he’s perceivably more calculated. you notice. it riddles you. why the abrupt movements and obvious secrecy if he isn’t lying to you about it all, about why he showed up in front of you, why he courted you, who he was supposedly answering to? in your frantic mind, you continue to hear yuki the aphrodite’s song of a voice. 

'it’s the weight of his consequences; he’s cursed to unending solitude.' 'gods don’t love mortals; we use them for fodder.'

satoru says he loves all but he’s never been in love, that he’s always been alone until you, that he’d been certain his immortal life would be doomed to that notion perpetually, but claiming you and making you the center of his devotions made a new god of him.

'he lies. he kills. he unleashed war on all the world in a blink for sport shortly after being born. he’s no man. he’s a monster that’s supposed to be imprisoned to loneliness. of course, he would not tell the mortal he manipulates he’ll squash them in his palm to sate the old gods and lift his curse.'

you remember what he said near the beginning of this unorthodox love: well, as i’m a war god, i have to release my inevitable frustrations somewhere. gently, of course. i wouldn’t want to leave the world in ruin…again.

your lips purse together. you want so badly to trust him, to be in his corner without hesitation, but aphrodite pointed out inconsistencies you now question and they can’t all be a result of coincidence.

'his eyes hold the truth, all of it; it is why he wills your ignorance.' 'satoru can’t be trusted, but he’ll know i plan to turn him in to the zeus if i attempt to get closer.'

he made you swear that you would never remove his quiver, never look into his eyes but the why of his boundary confuses and frightens you. if he only plans to use your love for him to sacrifice you to the old gods in exchange for true freedom from his infinity, you can’t stay here in a doomed paradise with him, biding your time in feigned bliss and counting down your days. if satoru is deceiving you, using you to hide from the zeus and plot the initiations of war, then continuing to love him is a willful act of brutality against man. but if the aphrodite is lying to you, deceiving you, then whatever makes satoru fear your gazes meeting will come true. such odds are poor but you’ve made your choice. the sacrifice for solving must be the comfort of ignorance.

'use this, if you wish to see the truth of him in his eyes. force sleep on him. remove his quiver. wait until he wakes. you will know then, the moment you look into his eyes, all that he’s done and will do.'

so when satoru comes home from whatever god-bearing duties of the zeus he claims, you decide to brew him tea. it takes you a long time to let him go when he first arrives home, a long time to relinquish your hold on unblemished intimacy, but he doesn’t mind and even welcomes it. you do your best to disregard the ardent tone in his greetings, in his soft laments of yearning and claims of the weight of your absence being heavy in his chest. you do your best to ignore the way he tugs your hand, how he wraps his arms around your waist, how he clings close to you. it almost makes you hesitant to lead him to your dining table. almost. he sighs upon sitting, stress heavy in his voice. guilt screams within you. you shouldn’t steep his tea with the scentless liquid, but curiosity drags delicate fingers over the open vial and tips it over the rim of a glass, listening to the soft pour of your coming betrayal. with a loving kiss to the head, you offer him the wretched tea, and he drinks it without thought — gripping his cup with trusting fingers — sealing your fate and his. “it’s good.” he hums. comfortable. safe. unsuspecting. “thank you, my love.” unable to stay and watch the next few minutes unfurl, you spare a soft smile and soundless nod before retreating into your shared bedroom, waiting on bated breath until you hear the abrupt thump of a body slumping onto the table, the shattering sound of a glass breaking as it falls to its death, the patter of laced brew pouring what’s left ot itself from the surface of the table onto tiled floor. it’s ironic that your next step is merely to wait but your impatience is what makes you cling to such drastic methods. pupils blown from aphrodite’s influence, heart shaking in fear as it anticipates the coming consequences of your doubt in him, you return to the table. he’s out cold, a sight you’ve never seen. although aphrodite assures you he’ll feel nothing during his sleeping state, you still unknot the tie of his quiver with careful fingers. the texture is soft on the surface but stiff in structure. you clutch the enchanted fabric in trembling fingers. you notice the bundle of snowy lashes that line the seam of his eyes.

like angel wings.

you always imagined they’d be beautiful. now you sit in front of him, diligent and dutiful, muttering useless apologies to the air he can’t hear, cursing yourself for your weak will. but you wait, eyes wide and alert, prepared to peer. you swallow down the thrill of your curiosity’s coming satiation, the joy of knowing you’ll know the sight of your lover in full. you remind yourself that you’re undeserving of deriving pleasure from this. this is truth you choose to take with no remorse for the destruction of his established limits.

it’s only because i love him; it’s only because i don’t want to die.

SATORU.

satoru wakes in a groggy stupor. when his eyes slowly open, confusion befalls him. has he slept? the first thing he notices is how bright the light pouring in through the window is, how it makes his eyes ache. the next thing he sees is you…staring at him with wide eyes, freshly-blown pupils and parted lips. a thickened black fabric is held tightly in clenched fists. it takes him too long to realize it’s his quiver. the fear that stirs in his chest is immediate as he realizes your awe is from the sight of his eyes. he clasps them shut tight, but deep down he knows it’s for nought. dreamily, you sigh his name. “s-satoru,” “NO!” his hands reach out in front of him wildly, until he feels you, until he snatches his quiver from you with frantic, terrified breaths. “what have you done?!” he doesn’t mean to shout out at you, doesn’t mean for his initial reaction to be rage and fear alone. he stands to his feet, panting wildly as his fingers fumble to retie the knot. fear eats him alive where he stands. agony in full force can take the strength from a god’s knees. he stumbles clumsily until his back hits the wall with force. his head hangs while cold thoughts blow into his mind with brute force, a blizzard of sorrow and sorry and spurn and spite. you speak but you tremble. it seems your mistake dawns on you, lays thick on your brittle voice. nearly a whisper, but still holding all your achings for penance, your yearning for atonement. “satoru…i’m…i’m sorry.” he’s sure your regret must be sour the way your face scrunches; vinegary. bitter. hard to taste but impossible to avoid.

treason tastes the same. satoru’s bleeding heart spirals. he laments in anguish, “why? you betray me? me? what have i done to make you want to be rid of me?” you carve a hole out of his chest. you don’t know it but you’ll leave with it, likely die with it clutched in mad hands. so this is what it means to be truly abandoned, to be loved and willingly left. none of it makes sense to him, how you've changed your mind and turned your back on your own vows to him. you said as long as he would stay by your side, you wouldn't peek. a dark thing lurches in his gut; heartache grips him and makes him feel sick. but love still wails and sings and bellows with jubilance at the sight of you. it overwhelms him. it plucks the bones out of his ribs, one by one. "you said you loved me. you swore you wouldn't look." perplexed and disbelieving. "why...would you? do you not —"

do you not want to love me anymore? is that why you want me to leave?

unable to move, unwilling to even speak it, the dark thing rolls over in his body. he bites his lip to stop the way it shakes, but he feels warm liquid start to gather. “rid of you? no, satoru. never.” a desperate cry. “then why?!” “i just…i just wanted to know the truth about you. aphrodite said…” his breath hitches when yuki’s honorific comes softly spilling from your lips. immediately, his lips flatten into a thin line. ares swells, a vengeful beast drawing life from the strength of its loathing. “the aphrodite was here?” his blank tone followed by your careful nod. “and she spoke to you?”

satoru watches as your body goes shy; you hold your own fingers and look at your feet in shame.  when you start to speak, your voice is timid. “yes…she…told me about your past. that you plan to…to sacrifice me to the old gods. she said…if i looked into your eyes…i would see it all…and know the truth.”

an abysmal sigh. robbed of the mundanity he’s grown accustomed to and normalcy he adores, all because of the aphrodite. aphrodite and likely the zeus, too. satoru realizes he's been bested, that this is his punishment for experiencing joy without their consent. after he's so capable of taking everything away, what does he deserve aside nothing? they use his own eros against him. the lover he so desperately desires will grow to look upon him with disgust and seething hatred. just as he did to the apollo, just as he'd done to realms above and below. alone. because he himself is love but he doesn't deserve it. crestfallen, he croaks, “did you find what you were looking for?” “no…” you whisper it regretfully as you fall prey to weakness and sink into your chair, shrouded in defeat. “there was nothing. it was for nothing. i’m such an idiot. i was…i should have trusted you. i’m sorry.”

you don’t know yuki. you couldn’t have. i’m a fool, too. loving so freely. tying my hands in devotion. making you a target to them.

his heavy feet drag across the floor until he stands in front of you, a mountain made of his woes with isolation at its peak. and satoru, poor satoru, drowning in dolor and resentment and love, falls to his knees and wails. “satoru, please. i’m sorry, love. i didn’t…i shouldn’t have been…” tears sputter out of your eyes uselessly. “i was fooled…” the truth comes out, sniveling and whimpering. “we won’t last much longer.” he cries quietly, teeming and oozing morose notions. sunk to his knees, he lays his head on your lap, eyes safely guarded again. satoru surrenders to this new, crippling grief he finds. his limbs wobble from the weakness. even his arms shake with the weight of his sobs. “what do you mean, my love? i’m right here. i’m fine. nothing happened when i saw your eyes.” he notes the wispiness in your voice, the almost dreamlike murmur when you mention the sight of his eyes. your dagger of betrayal shoves in deeper. “they were beautiful. so…blue. like the sky. like the sea. like love as it wades.”

like love as it weeps?

your words, dazed and dulcet, are so far away as you speak them. your rakes through his hair, once soothing, now cease as you fall into silence. a moment passes. your loving sigh fills the air. “like angel wings,” you murmur. satoru’s eyes squeeze shut, fat tears spilling from the sides. within him, both his eros grieve. they sing with remorse, apologetic for what they’ve done, for your misfortunate fate they didn’t mean to seal.

ACT V. ALECTO THE UNENDING, ETERNITY'S TORTURE.

love is blind, but it sees all; love is forgiveness, love is resentment. it lingers in fragility and cradles its weaknesses, drenching them in immunity.

love is blind, but it sees all; love is languid, love is impetuous. it exists as an avalanche — slow and foreboding, and as a volcano — abrupt and erupting.

SATORU. day one.

the morning after betrayal finally comes. he spends the whole night in obsessive cycles of thought about how this will end, how he can stop it once it begins, how he can forgive you for the heartache you’ll leave him to cradle, how to love you as he’s always done, how to find gratitude somewhere in the trauma, how to spend the last of his time with you in bliss. you sleep the night away, calm, curled up to his body, because he’s angry but at least he’s home. time drags him through its thick currents of night and he ruminates on his losses while he wades. when you wake, the first thing satoru does is smush your cheeks between his palms and carefully examine your eyes for any sign of distress, any evidence of deterioration. “what are you doing?” you ask softly, careful not to show him your frustration. “i have to go to work.”

nothing. not a trace. maybe there wasn’t enough time. maybe it trickles. maybe the sight of their eyes won’t touch you, after all.

satoru huffs defiantly, letting go of your face. “i’m coming with you.” “don’t you always?” a soft giggle. your warm smile. ardor surges throughout him, an ichor-warming excavation to remind him he knows you. he loves you. he doesn’t have to fear you. quietly, satoru clings to the delusions of his hope that maybe…maybe. but…he doesn’t dare speak them aloud. the gods are always listening somehow. 

day two.

no changes in your eyes. no slight detuning of your laughter. no crooked, misplaced smiles. nothing. you kiss him with the same tender lips; you hold his hand just as tightly. nothing changes as you both fall back into the comforts of your habitual movements. satoru keeps his sorrow in a crevice within himself and you…now free of aphrodite’s wicked touch, he supposes…have seemingly forgotten any of it ever occurred. or perhaps, the feigning is how you hold your grief, too. the one thing that does change is the extension of his infinity. he keeps it stretched to hold you at all times, especially as you walk around so freely. you talk to him as you always have on your way to your work and home. he notices you always meander around most in the daylight. you love spending time in the sun. he listens to the bright bumble of your words; his head tilts up towards the sky, stone-faced. geto’s sun has always had its eyes on you, hasn’t it?

geto the helios, even you betray me? my oldest friend.

nothing changes in you, but his heart knows more grief than it can take. ardor closes its eyes in rest, unable to endure the daily exertion of mourning. but ares is fueled by its need for retribution.

day three.

when you leave for work that morning, nothing changes. he just can’t be by your side. you sometimes have tiresome, elongated meetings that carry on, weaving in and out of an entire day. as much as satoru loves to linger, the waiting while watching them relish in your attention instead of him maddens him. it’s best if he stays home where your scent douses everything and he knows for certain you’ll return to him with all of your adoration just for him. each day begins the same: you wake up, he cradles your cheeks, he observes your eyes for even the slightest hint of dilation, he kisses your forehead, he murmurs his devotions over you — much closer to wrapping someone in prayer, and finally allows you to fully rise. you leave as you always do but satoru is admittedly uncertain of what to do with himself when matching your steps isn’t the entirety of his day. so he lies in your bed, wrapped inside a chrysalis of saffron and silk, and shrouds himself in the blissful feeling of you yearning for him the moment you leave him. it mollifies ardor for a time. but. approximately one hour passes before you come stumbling back in through the front door, kicking your shoes off at the entrance while you call for him. although confused, he still appears and greets you with an adoring smile. “returning already, pretty thing?” you nod, opening your arms to him. “mhm, i got there and…the idea of going the entire morning and afternoon without you made me want to die...so i came back home.” “how dramatic. you just couldn’t stand it, huh?” he murmurs, wrapping you in his arms, lips against your temple. “pretty thing needs her satoru. i don’t blame you. i wouldn’t want to leave me either.” of course, he jests and expects your snippy response in reply but instead, he feels your yearning for him explode in his chest. he feels the way you push closer, clutch tighter; he hears the edge of a whine in your voice as you speak. simpering, you cling to the fabric of his robes. “yes, all of that. i can’t stand the thought of being without you.” he doesn’t let you go but he stills and whispers, “my love, look at me.” the request comes soft and you do look as you’re told, abstracted eyes and a foolish smile. satoru’s palms cup your cheeks for the second time that day. he stares intently, observing the shape, noting a new wobble in the roundness, something slightly misshapen and enlarging. satoru whimpers at the sight. worry fills him as he stares and stares, praying for his discovery to come out false, just a mirage made of his anxiety. he can’t let you go when he still wants you for longer. for the second time, satoru hears you ask him, “are you leaving me?” and he still says no, but he omits the dreadful thing to protect you from fear.

 you’re leaving me.

day six.

satoru feels sickened by himself for enjoying your clinginess. his heart can’t help it, to chase even falsified bliss. to be filled with the aching of knowing you’re gone but still warm-blooded and yearning in his arms — how unfair. how cruel. he has no choice but to hold you in the arms of questions that feel more like pleas.

why can’t i have you? why can’t i keep you? you’re mine but why can’t you be mine? why can’t you stay? just a little longer.

the lunacy spreads in the dead of night; you wake up stranger than the days passed. he knows it won’t last but he relishes in it despite it. you haven’t left in days. a bed is a home you don’t abandon. you leave behind your responsibilities and he leaves the remnants of his hope. you take a seat on his lap and the only thing you move is your hips. driven to an obsessive need for pleasure. hot with it, a sheen of sweat as you dig your nails in deeper. shaking in the night and longing for him; his body, his length, his murmurs in your ear, his warm tears falling on your back. he closes his eyes, lets the pleasure he feels shamelessly consume him. you’re on your way to a steep decline. he’ll steal these intimate moments for himself. as many as he can. little somethings to remember you by. something to remind him, for a time, your mouth tasted like everything love should be. just in case when the time comes and the sight of your lips curving into disgust starts to make him forget. just in case he can’t remember what it’s like to be loved by you.

ACT VI. A SMALL CACOPHONY OF WRATH, TISIPHONE’S ORCHESTRA.

love is blind, but it sees all; love is acceptance, love is denial. it is all screeches of dissonance and a looming madness contained in a warm embrace.

love is blind, but it sees all; love is gluttonous, love is self-serving. it doesn’t savor, only swallows; it never nibbles, it always devours.

SATORU. day thirteen.

satoru won’t say it aloud, but he’s scared. of so many things. mourning and loving and being alone. his broken heart and the wrath it’ll undoubtedly unleash. ares says everything’s days are numbered if yours are. every hope he has that he may not lose you, in the end, is squandered by the rapid shift in your behavior over the last weeks. he sees it clearly, the pupils in your eyes growing larger by the day.  filling your eyes, filling your mind with delusions, filling your speech with nonsensical strings. it was a soft cling at first, tender fingertips holding lightly to the flesh, but it’s slowly becoming your nails digging into an open wound you made. you won’t let him leave your side anymore. your eyes are wild, blazing with disdain as you grip his arm. “where are you going? are you leaving me?” “my love, please,” satoru murmurs, trying to subdue your suspicions of his attempt to leave. “i’m not leaving you. i’m not.” always frantic. always afraid. satoru knows you can’t help it, knows you don’t mean to, knows he can’t stop your spirals once you’re triggered. hands up in surrender, he sits right back down in your bed and looks at you with wounded eyes you can't see, another wrench in his gut you’ll never know of. you settle into his lap, less loving and more possessive. “i wasn’t leaving. i’d never leave you.” satoru coos, his weakening attempts to make you docile, still true to his tongue. “i love you. you’re my pretty thing. i’ll never go anywhere.” your head shakes, tears pouring and lips sputtering words in a frenzy. “you can’t just get up and try to go somewhere without telling me! i don’t know what’s happening! i don’t know what’s happening and you can’t leave me! you can’t leave my side or i’ll die! if you walk away, you’ll leave me here to die and why would you leave me? you said you love me. don’t you love me, satoru?” “of course i do. i love you so much.” satoru listens to your whirlwind of teary rambles, watches your sanity dissolve. he holds you in love while you sob in confusion and the overstimulation of sensation makes you shiver. he glances over the scars littering different parts of your body, mauling yourself to be free of all the feeling that fills you at all times. all the feelings that say you’ll die if you’re not by his side. you’ll die if he doesn’t love you back. you’ll die if he leaves you. they all burst to life and leave you a wailing mess in his arms. imprisoned by every sliver of love and unable to escape its chaotic swarms. a war in your lungs. a war in your belly. a war on your flesh. all you do is scream. he doesn’t know how much longer until they tell you that you’ll die if you can’t get away from him. you’ll die if you don’t kill him first. 

day twenty-one.

a blood-curdling scream. the incessant rattle of metal chains. “EVIL ASSHOLE! I KNEW YOU’D TRY TO KILL ME! I KNEW YOU NEVER LOVED ME! I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL KILL YOU! I HOPE YOU DIE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT I HATE YOU!” since day sixteen, the god has lost all semblance of peace. “SATORU!” shrieking and sobbing his name descending to loving pleas. “please, satoru. i love you. i won’t hurt you. satoru! SATORU! STOP IGNORING ME! SATORU, ANSWER ME. ANSWER ME. TELL ME YOU LOVE ME, SATORU! PLEASE!” ares and the strength of its rage is the only thing keeping satoru’s body standing. as time passes, ardor accepts the coming days will be your last. whenever satoru has the strength to make a decision that leaves him fractured in every way. his heart breaks. all of him weeps until what’s left of love is defeat. you’re no longer yourself. a stranger takes space in your body and all it does is scream. in satoru’s mind, you’ve already died. you’ve already left him. what he’s holding is the sight of a person he wants to see, wants to be able to remember and remind himself of in the luxury of passing glances. he thinks he didn’t love those things enough. you’re a screeching mess he keeps his infinity perpetually stretched around, whose arms he keeps chained to a wall to stop you from hurting yourself, to stop you from hurting him. he hasn’t seen you smile for some time. all you do is wail and cry and make yourself bleed. a monster made of your own temptation. he still loves you, still adores you in every way. even like this. for all of time, he will.

love is blind but it sees all; love is eternal, love is unconditional. it is the only thing that owes nothing to space or time.

but he knows this is only torture for you. satoru has three options:

one. let you kill yourself in a fit of murderous delirium — both in an effort to escape him and an inability to kill him. two. let you die trying uselessly to kill him. three. kill you himself — quickly. devoutly. with honor and in love. pour enough of how much he adores you over your bones to fill an eternity, someone worthy of ceremony.  you’re still someone who laughs and fills a room with delight.

tears stream freely underneath his quiver when he enters the room he’s now holding you prisoner in, a sad fact that makes him hate not only himself but all of them even more. when he enters, you go wild, writhing and pulling at the restraints he keeps you attached to. “LOOK AT ME, YOU ASSHOLE. LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID TO ME! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! DIE! I HOPE YOU DIE! YOU DISGUST ME! I SHOULD HAVE NEVER TRUSTED YOU!” unable to take it anymore, unable to hear you in pain like this, hysteric and senseless, unable to endure the loss of his only home and the betrayal from all sides, he unties the knot of his quiver. he lets it fall to the ground the same way he falls to his knees, and stares at you. because love is standing but love is kneeling, too. he hears you go silent as you stare at him in his full glory, watches your body go calm as you see crystals stream down his cheeks, surely shimmering as they fall. your screaming finally ceases, replaced by awe swimming around your crying eyes. your soft smile; it must be your parting gift to him. “like angel wings,” adoration on your dying breath. “satoru,” all that’s left is your sigh faded into demise, satoru’s amethyst tears, and both ardor and ares filling his vision with a loving lilac. so lovely, so alluring and sweet, so undoubtedly yours, you don’t even feel the crack of your neck in his hands. painless. you fade with pleasure in your sights, with a moment of remembrance. you fade not knowing you’ve dissipated into nothing, not knowing you’re cradled lovingly in his arms, not knowing how he cries for you, not knowing how he hurts, not knowing the depths of his adoration for you. only satoru has to live with the sacrifices of knowing.

but he loves you, so he will live with the sacrifices while the realms live with the consequences of crossing him. any cost of loving you, he’ll gladly pay. over and over, until death manages to capture him and take him to meet the hades himself. when he finally has the strength to leave your side, ardor goes cold within him, paralyzed by grief. one eye blinks in darkness. nothing shown. nothing felt. nothing seen. but ares is alive with the light of a promise. ardor rests and ares makes satoru keep its word. thus, he finds a way to adore devastation. only when it’s dedicated to you.

he burns the quiver to dust, his first declaration of war on all, both above and below.

everything’s days are numbered if yours are.

𝜗𝜚 tags: @yunymphs. @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat. @avatarofstars. @softgirlgonehaywire. @sweeteaas. @kentopedia. @angelzrulez21-blog. @slowstorms. @dollsuguru. @seeingivy. @uroldall.

© 2024 venusiansilk. all rights reserved.

[lesbian-serpent-handler]

Hi hi!! How about 🌸, 🌱 and 🐻 for whichever F/O you'd like?

Oh my god, so I wrote this out in my phones notes and then just. Forgot about it. Whoopsie.

Yay hiii!! Doing this for papa emeritus ii (platonic, 💀) lucille (💍) hanzo (🏹)and alduin (🐲)

🌸 Pink - How do you and your F/O want to help your love blossom? Will you be doing something new in your relationship next year?

💀(platonic)

💍our love is already quite intense. I would like to take her to America again, to sight see without worrying about money or work or finding a target. Nothing majorly new on the horizon, on my end at least. Lucille is quite good at keeping secrets so who knows what she may have planed!

🏹I'm learning Japanese for him, finally. I know very little from on and off lessons the past... 6 or 7 years... but it's time I take the initiative to do something beneficial and will make us closer! Other than that, it's just the natural trajectory of our relationship happening. We've also started discussing marriage since we've been together for so long.

🐲 I doubt there's much new we can bring into our relationship. All we can hope for is to remain undisturbed.

🌱 Green - What are your hopes for your future beside your F/O? Any shared goals between you?

💀as I'm married to the current papa, there's really nowhere else to go in terms of job security lol. As the retired papa, he gives copia and I advice, and teases that I've taken sister imperators position as papas right hand (although she doesn't appreciate the joke, she does acknowledge my work and hints she would accept me one day taking the mantle)

💍im... not sure... we can't really get married, I wouldn't dream of taking her from Allerdale hall, despite thinking it may be good for her, I would never take her away from Thomas. I think I just want our future to be happy. Quiet and happy.

🏹 marriage might be on our horizon m, we haven talked about it seriously, but well. I have a feeling. Otherwise, we are happy being able to wake up next to each other. He wants to get me fluent in Japanese to take me for a vacation some day.

🐲 -does bringing about the end times count?- mostly we want a peaceful time together. Alduin has lived a long life, and wishes to spend the portion he shares with me not doing anything too cataclysmic. Usually.

🐻 Brown - What about your F/O brings you a sense of safety? What makes them feel safe around you?

💀hes very protective, and that alone makes me feel safe. While hes usually very put together, hes also not afraid to kick the shit out of someone. Papa has been described as sad, bitter, and angry, but honestly? Its the weight of his family's expectations (with the knoweldge that hes a placeholder for his brother, and the way hes treated by his father). Giving him a space to be himself, unhindered, and knowing that I'll still love and accept him as who he is makes him feel safe. Once, in a quiet moment by the fire, playing chess, he told me he was jealous of my father and that I was the daughter he dreamed of having. I only cried a lot 🥹

💍 I don't know if lucille makes me feel *safe* per se, but I also don't feel *unsafe* with her. She certainly makes me happy, but I find her to be safety neutral lol. I know I make her feel safe, she's told me as much! All those ghosts in Allerdale hall, she says she can't feel their presence with me. I quiet her mind, I pose no threat to her and Thomas, and she can feel... normal with me.

🐲 physical safety isn't something either of us really need to worry about with each other. I mean a mage is usually able to defend themselves well enough, but throw in a literal dragon of legend? its a mix of love and comfort, and walking in a strange new territory. It's very new for both of us, so it seems we're both very aware of potential missteps. Even with this sort of hyper vigilance, we know that it's nothing we cannot handle together. It would take the combined eight divines to tear us apart.

🏹 just being near him makes me feel safe. He's one of the few people that makes my anxiety just melt away, because even if I start to panic, a big warm hand on my back and a gentle word and I know im ok. I do my best to do the same for him. Sometimes he doesn't sleep well, with memories of his past, or of things he's done. I lay awake with him as long as he needs, holding him and telling him how loved he is, how I'm never going to leave. I hope I'm able to help him as much as he helps me.

[thcdoomed]

Bad luck relies on absolutely perfect timing. - sol’rys .

deathless ♚ sentence meme || accepting [🏹]

|| @starlyht | sol'rys

Her tankard hovered a few inches from her lips, red eyes peering over the rim at her fellow ranger. A lot of things relied on perfect timing, take archery for example. Timing the shot just right before the target moves, or perhaps once the target has moved to make sure they walk into the path of the arrow. She supposed maybe bad luck wasn't much different. After all, had things not happened when they had, she may have never been picked up by the nautiloid when she did.

Taking a long sip, she rested the tankard between her legs, making sure its contents didn't spill. "I suppose you're right. It can't all be Bashaba's will. So if bad luck is just perfect timing, what is good luck?"

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