#Advantage of Being an Interior Designer

[my-information]

Advantage of Being an Interior Designer

To have a career in interior designing means understanding the most important elements and principles of design combined with creative flair and vision. As a professional interior designer, it is an extremely demanding and often challenging profession where you must have the ability to work with the specifics of the client’s space and structure, requirements of your clients, the available budget and any prevalent time restrictions.

The Advantages of becoming an Interior Designer

1. Growing Demand

This industry is growing at an extraordinary pace worldwide which means that for those with the required experience, suitable qualifications, experience and creativity, it is an industry of boundless potential.

2. Creative Liberty

We can only find a few creative industries that offer such an extraordinary level of creative freedom. To have a blank canvas that is entire interior living space, you have so much to explore your own creativity and imagination at a much higher level.

3. Job Satisfaction

Bringing your creative vision to life and knowing your own efforts have perhaps permanently transformed an interior space into something magnificent which has in return brought absolute delight to your clients, is an extremely satisfying experience.

4. Work lifestyle

Dynamic and unpredictable is how the work-life of an interior designer is defined as. Though many people envy interior designers as they are also provided with the opportunity to work from home; that lets them work according to their own hours, dress how they please and are absolutely free from the burden of a morning commute.

5. Being your own boss

As a qualified interior designer by profession, you get to enjoy the unique benefits and rewards of being an entrepreneur. You don't just get to work for yourself, it gives you the liberty to choose what and who you work for.

If you too are one such aspirant hoping to learn and have an outstanding career in interior designing then you should definitely consider INIFD Kothrud Pune. Our curriculum has been specifically curated to prepare you, to step up into the professional world confidently.

A career in interior design has a huge amount of competition but also the potential to be uniquely rewarding, enjoyable and assure security for life. A simple fact is that individuals, brands and businesses all over the world will always rely on the skills, talents and experience of qualified interior designers to get their space-related job done. So apply now for Interior design course in Pune.

[visdiefje]

Back home and some complicated feelings about it again 😍 that said. Nothing beats my own beautiful bed

[saheed-uae-blog]

The Benefits of Glass Doors

In the modern world of interior and architectural design, glass doors have emerged as a symbol of elegance, functionality, and innovation. These transparent marvels have witnessed a surge in popularity, and for a good reason. Glass doors offer a wide array of advantages that not only enhance the aesthetic appeal of a space but also contribute to practicality, energy efficiency, and overall well-being. In this comprehensive guide, we will delve into the myriad benefits of glass doors and why they have become a cornerstone of contemporary design.

Types Of Glass Doors

Aluminium Glass Doors: Aluminium glass doors combine the durability of aluminium frames with the elegance of glass panels. They are commonly used for both interior and exterior applications, providing a sleek and modern look while ensuring weather resistance.

Frameless Glass Door: Frameless glass doors offer a minimalist and contemporary design. They lack visible frames or hardware, providing an unobstructed view. These doors are perfect for creating a seamless and open ambiance in homes or offices.

Glass Doors Sliding: Sliding glass doors are known for their space-saving design. They slide horizontally rather than swinging open, making them ideal for areas with limited space. They offer the same benefits of natural light and transparency as traditional glass doors.

Glass Door Wardrobe: Glass door wardrobes feature glass panels as the front doors of the wardrobe. This design not only adds a touch of sophistication to the bedroom but also allows for easy visibility of clothing and accessories without the need to open the doors.

Stackable Glass Doors: Stackable glass doors consist of multiple panels that can be neatly stacked or folded away when fully opened. They are often used to create wide openings between indoor and outdoor spaces, providing a sense of continuity and flexibility in design.

Interior Glass Doors: Interior glass doors are designed to separate different living spaces while maintaining an open and airy feel. They come in various styles, including frosted, etched, and clear glass options, offering versatility in design and privacy levels within a home.

Benefits of Glass Doors

Transparency and Openness

The most evident benefit of glass doors is their ability to create an atmosphere of transparency and openness. These doors allow an unobstructed view of both interior and exterior spaces, blurring the lines between indoors and outdoors. This feature makes rooms appear larger, more inviting, and provides a sense of connection with the surrounding environment.

Natural Light Infusion

One of the primary advantages of glass doors is their capacity to usher in an abundance of natural light. The entrance of daylight into a space not only reduces the need for artificial lighting but also provides numerous health benefits. Natural light promotes productivity, enhances mood, and even contributes to energy savings.

Aesthetic Versatility

Glass doors come in a variety of designs, from classic to contemporary, and they can be customized to suit any architectural style. Whether you prefer a sleek and minimalistic frameless design or a more traditional framed look, glass doors offer the flexibility to match the aesthetic of any interior or exterior space.

Energy Efficiency

Modern glass doors are designed to be energy-efficient. They are equipped with advanced insulation technology, including low-emissivity (Low-E) glass, which reduces heat transfer and helps maintain a comfortable indoor temperature. This not only reduces energy consumption but also lowers utility costs.

Noise Reduction

Glass doors equipped with double or triple glazing can significantly reduce noise transmission from the outside. This feature is particularly advantageous in urban environments or areas with high traffic, contributing to a more peaceful and quiet indoor ambiance.

Easy Maintenance

Maintaining glass doors is a breeze. They are easy to clean and resistant to stains and odors. A simple wipe with a glass cleaner is often sufficient to keep them looking pristine, making them an excellent choice for spaces that require minimal upkeep.

Conclusion

The benefits of glass doors in UAE are abundant and diverse, making them a top choice for homes and businesses. From illuminating natural light to enhancing property value and providing security, glass doors offer a range of advantages that transcend aesthetics.Additionally, finding the right Glass Doors manufacturers is important in ensuring you get top-quality products. TradersFind, a reputable platform, connects you with trusted glass doors suppliers, further enhancing the advantages of glass doors in terms of reliability, choice, and affordability. So, when considering the benefits of doors, don't forget the added advantage of accessing the best sources through TradersFind.

[charmedreincarnation]

Success Story Using Your States Challenge 🎉

Hello Maya! I've got to confess, I used to despise the concept of states. It made it seem to me like bloggers were simply being lazy and deceiving us because at first, it made zero sense. If I could just choose to embody any state, then why was my life in shambles? Why was I poor, why was I abused?unattractive, and suffering? When did I choose to embody these states?

But then it hit me! Whether consciously or subconsciously, whether due to coincidence or purposeful, whether knowingly or ignorantly, I realized that if I wanted to manifest my dream life, I had to take accountability for the negative aspects as well. That's the law of reversibility. It was a bitter pill to swallow initially because I've been through some really tough shit experiences that I wouldn't wish upon anyone.

It wasn't my fault, but I kept replaying those old stories, and reliving them hence creating my reality . But I learned that I could use this to my advantage. I could replace the old story with a new one that fulfilled me.

I started making choices aligned with my dream life. Every time I encountered something from the old story, I chose to perceive it differently. Working with an abusive manager? Odd, because in my state, I'm a trust fund baby. Seeing an unattractive reflection in the mirror? Confusing, because I have a social media following based on my looks alone bc of pretty privilege. My bank account nearing zero? Must be an error, because I have millions in savings and investments.

I strongly recommend checking out these posts for additional insights:

Pink's post on overcoming doubt

Angel's advice on states

Bambi's tips on manifesting under unfavorable circumstances

Maya's post on time

Since embracing this mindset, I've manifested so much! Like literally waking up with a whole new life. I've moved to LA, gained a large social media following (100k on Instagram, 200k on YouTube, and 1 million on TikTok), and now live in a beautiful house in Beverly Hills. I attend a prestigious private high school with other celebrity kids. My dad (revised) is retiring from the NFL, and my mom is a successful interior designer.

I've also manifested my dream body (Alexis ren), dream face (I am so pretty it’s not even fair) dream cars (Lamborghini Urus, Tesla Model X, and Porsche 911 GT3), an enviable closet and room, a loyal friend group, and much more. My list was about 100 pages long, very specific, and yet my life turned out even better than I could have imagined!

Thank you so much and Happy New Year! 💋

I am very happy for you! I’m glad you kept reaching for your dreams and inspiring yourself and thank you for inspiring others 🤍🕊️✨Honestly I forgot what state challenge you’re talking abt bc I genuinely lowkey don’t remember making that post… like who knows where my mind was but regardless wishing you a lifetime of happiness and success! So glad I could help

[fioiswriting]

Unholy

Summary : During the prestigious Targaryen family's annual charity gala, your boyfriend's stepfather decides to make you pay for the consequences of your actions. Perhaps you should have been more careful before entering this little game.

Rating : Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Pairing : Daemon Targaryen x Jace’s girlfriend!reader (reader appearance isn’t specified)

TW : p in v sex, dom/sub, oral (m receiving), daddy kink, unprotected sex, size kink, spanking, inappropriate use of the word kepus, cheating, age gap (!!), fingering, mirror sex, pwp, (light angst at the end), modern AU, Daemon being Daemon, not proofread 

Words count : 9379

AN : hi everyone!! I hope you are all doing well! So. Sorry it’s just a 9000 words concentrate of filthy smut. I’m ashamed. But enjoy anyway.  (I need to write for Aemond again but my gf is a Daemon girly so blame her for this smutty thing <3)

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !! 

Enjoy 🖤

The Targaryen family's annual charity Gala promised to be particularly grandiose this year. More spectacular. More lavish. More ostentatious than ever.  The budget had been spent on decorations, that was certain, and it was only a matter of time before guests began to stream down the stately aisle leading to the reception hall.

It was an annual event that no one could avoid, despite the tensions that were tearing the family apart from within, a kind of routine that had set in year after year. 

And this Gala pissed Daemon off.

He had better things to do than smile at a bunch of assholes, listen to a bunch of idiots talk about their uninteresting lives and pseudo-successes that he couldn't give a shit about. Not to mention the fact that the mere thought of being in the same room as Otto Hightower made him break out in hives. 

Rhaenyra had explained to him that it was for their image, but Daemon thought that was completely stupid. Since when did his reputation and his family's image have to depend on fake polite smiles and superficial bows?

Everything pissed him off, starting with Otto fucking Hightower, with whom he had to share his table for an entire evening. Rhaeyra had slipped away for a moment to prepare to give the opening speech at her father's side, like the heiress of Targaryen Corp that she was.

The interior of the building was large. Well decorated, illuminated by large chandeliers whose light enlarged the room. The designer - Alys Rivers or something like that - had good taste, Daemon had to admit. Waiters circulated among the guests, offering glasses of champagne or cocktails to the wealthy families who had gathered. Prestigious guests, certainly, but most of all a bunch of hypocrites, according to Daemon. He could feel all eyes on him. Spying on his flaws. Spying on his every move. Every scandal that might make the headlines in the morning.  Like he was going to honour them with such a spectacle. He wasn't that stupid. 

It was already scandalous enough that he had married his niece. He didn't know if he could worsen his case.

His older brother's tired voice rang out. His speech, full of the values promoted by the company; family, solidarity, benevolence and all that crap everyone pretended to believe in. After all, a bit of scandal might have spiced things up, a bit of chaos in this ocean of smiles and hypocrisy.  Daemon liked the idea.

He found his daughters in the crowd. They were beautiful, as always, the spitting image of their mother. He took advantage of the end of the speech to compliment them, kiss them on the cheek and take a family photo that would delight the journalists. Proof that he was a good father, or whatever they would write in lines he wouldn't even read. 

But it wasn't them he was looking for. Nor his stepsons.

He scanned the room with his eyes, and finally. Finally he found what he was looking for. The very one he was interested in. Who had aroused his curiosity.

He grabbed two glasses of champagne and approached you like a predator towards his prey. You were alone. That was easy. "Has Jace abandoned you?" he asked in his raspy voice as you turned, obviously surprised to see him. He handed you a glass, which you accepted with your fingertips. He was close to you. Almost too close.

"He went to look for Cregan," you replied, frowning suspiciously. You were on your guard, but Daemon knew you'd be easy to tame. He'd noticed the way you looked at him when your boyfriend Jace brought you home, and the way you strutted by the pool just before his eyes in nothing but your bikini. You'd asked Jace to put sunscreen on your back, but it was him you were looking at as your boyfriend rubbed your back, him. His stepfather.

The dress you wore hugged your body perfectly, revealing the lovely curves you hid underneath the fabric. He had no problem imagining that all the men in the room were probably mentally undressing you. He'd be lying if he said he didn't. 

But the idea that other people, that other men could imagine your body, could picture your shape, could have inappropriate fantasies about you, irritated him to no end. The very thought made his blood boil and every muscle in his body tense.

He couldn't really explain why. 

Or, if he had to be honest, he knew why ; he had an idea in the back of his mind and he was desperate to act on it.

"Don't worry about me, darling," he replied, "I wasn't looking for my wife. Not tonight." He added, lower this time, leaving a deliberate mystery over his words. He saw you hesitate for a moment, your eyes widening before a slight smile curled the corners of your lips.  "'By the way, you look gorgeous,' he continued. "What a pity my stepson decided to leave you alone on an evening like this. There are some ill-intentioned men out there who might take advantage of the situation."

He saw you take a step in his direction, lowering the volume of your voice to make sure no one around you could hear what you were about to say. He also saw you look him in the eye with a kind of self-assurance that proved you hadn't said your last word yet. Fuck, he loved this game. And he was determined to win.

"I'm not afraid of ill-intentioned men, Daemon. I'm not a little girl anymore." Your voice purred against his ear, and he wondered if you really knew what you were doing, if you knew what you were getting into by pretending to be a big girl. 

Men like him could make a meal of fragile little things like you.

So he slowly leaned towards you. Who cared if anyone saw him? At least it would give the paparazzi something to write about in the morning. Daemon didn't give a fuck. They could say what they wanted, only idiots read the piles of shit those so-called journalists wrote in their rags.  "Don't be so sure, little one," he whispered in your ear as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. "You don't know what these bad men are capable of." His gaze lingered on your collarbone, the exposed skin of your throat and your cleavage that hinted at your breasts. 

Jace had good taste. You were simply divine.

"Then show me," you retorted, and Daemon's eyes locked with yours again. He had that usual smile, enigmatic and arrogant. But he said nothing. He let out an insolent chuckle, his fingers still wrapped in a lock of your hair, before turning on his heels. 

For once, maybe the Gala would be something other than a meeting of fake smiles and endless, falsely polite conversations with people he didn't even like. For once, maybe the Gala would be exciting. 

The meal had been delicious, and the dinner had gone as politely as Daemon could remain. Despite Rhaenyra discreetly kicking him under the table every time he was about to hurl an insult at Otto Hightower, that omnipresent parasite as tenacious as vermin, he had managed the feat of not provoking a diplomatic incident.  But Otto Hightower wasn't the only thing he was angry about. At the other end of the table, out of the corner of his eye, he could see you and Jace talking, your hand on his, and the thought irritated him. Which was hypocritical of him. But he saw his stepson whisper something in your ear, he saw him slide his hand under the table as you giggled, and a little later he saw him ask you to dance. You had accepted, with your eyes glued to Daemon, and you knew exactly what you were doing, he was sure of it. 

For as you walked past him, you let your fingers brush his shoulder. You knew what you were doing. You knew what you were doing, and you knew he couldn't make you pay for it, at least not in public, not now, not in front of everyone. 

His hand tightened around his glass, and when Rhaenrya asked him if everything was all right, he grunted, barely answering. You wanted to provoke him. You did it on purpose. You were trying to provoke him, like a little spoiled brat, and Daemon was going to show you what happens to girls like you. But for the moment he could do nothing but watch, his gaze clouded with possessiveness and jealousy, as Jace spun you around, as you swayed to the music, as you let your boyfriend press himself against you. 

All the while looking at him. 

And in his head, it was only your name that sounded like an old broken record. He needed to teach you a lesson, to show you what happened to girls who were provocative, to girls who were impertinent, to girls who wanted to tease ill-intentioned men without worrying about the consequences.

He had warned you, but you hadn't listened.

His eyes swept the room once more, but you had disappeared into the crowd. Occasionally you emerged, between two couples. It was like a game of cat and mouse, but Daemon wasn't sure he was in the mood to play any more. He dismissed Rhaenyra with a mumbled apology, and when he saw you slip out of the room, he followed you discreetly.

He found you leaning against the railing with your back to him. Your silhouette stood out in the pale moonlight, and as he approached, the laughter, the loud music and the clinking of bottles mingled like faint echoes in the distance. The fresh air was pleasant. Maybe it would help him think more clearly. Maybe it would make him stop thinking about things he shouldn't. You, you and nothing else.  It was becoming an obsession. 

Without warning, he moved in your direction. He could smell your perfume, a sweet, floral scent wafting towards him. Fuck, he was so close, pressed against you, he could even feel the warmth of your body against his. You didn't move, and Daemon took that as silent approval.  He was behind you. The lower part of his body, pressed against you. Against your lower back. A familiar warmth spread between his loins. You could feel it. You could probably feel the effect you were having on him, and the thought was driving him crazy.

"Daemon."

He didn't back away. On the contrary, he stopped for a moment and slid his hand delicately up your thigh, to the edge of your dress, where his finger traced the hem. It was naughty - you were his stepson's girlfriend. You were much younger than he was.  But he couldn't help wanting more. He couldn't help taking what wasn't his and making it his. 

Fuck. He loved to play with fire, that was for sure. 

Quietly, Daemon withdrew his hand and leaned back against the railing, his gaze resting on you like that of a teacher disappointed with your behaviour. But there was something else beneath his reproachful expression, something else, and it was almost possessiveness - or jealousy - that shone in his eyes. "Look at me," he ordered, lifting your chin with the tip of his index finger, and your eyes landed on him. You didn't want to give in, you didn't want to give him what he wanted, so you looked away to stare at a distant point on the horizon. But he insisted, his fingers bruising your chin. Perhaps he should teach you discipline, since you obviously didn't know what that was. So the two of you stood there for a moment; his dark gaze piercing your deceptively innocent eyes, and he said nothing, his jaw set. When he broke eye contact, it was to study the soft curves of your breasts. His thumb traced the line from your jaw to your throat, then along your collarbones in a sudden excess of possessiveness. His eyes burned with desire. 

He needed to possess you.

"What the fuck did you think you were doing, little one?" Daemon finally asked. You knew exactly what he was referring to. You knew about the pool, you knew about the sunscreen, you knew about the short skirt at dinner the other night, you knew about dancing with Jace, a moment ago, while you devoured his stepfather with your eyes. You knew you were doing it on purpose, and now you were going to pay the consequences. But you weren't ready to give in just yet. You wanted to play a little longer. So you put on your best innocent expression and pretended you didn't understand.

"I don't know what you're talking about.”

He was seething. You were driving him mad. He frowned, but he knew he wasn't going to get you, not like this. His eyes were dark with lustful desire and sheer hunger.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, don't play dumb," he added again, before pulling a pack of cigarettes from his suit pocket. He put one to his mouth and lit it with a lighter, his hand bent to shield the flame from the wind. You watched as he took a deep drag and exhaled the smoke.

"I didn't do anything wrong." You bit your lower lip. Deep down you felt almost ashamed, like a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar, but it was a paradoxical feeling - you adored the effect you were having on him. You weren't stupid, you knew jealousy when you saw it. But after all, you hadn't done anything wrong, that wasn't a lie. You had just danced with your boyfriend. With Jace. 

And Daemon was a married man.

"I was just dancing with my boyfriend," you said, putting the emphasis on that word. “You know, Jace."

Daemon handed you the cigarette, which you declined. He turned to face the horizon, leaned his elbows against the railing, his arms almost pressed against yours. He knew he had no right to be possessive with you. He was a married man.  He was a married man and you were young enough to be his daughter. It was hypocritical of him - but who doesn't need a bit of fun? The Gala was a bore.

"You were dancing? Really?" He paused. "Or tell me, are you so desperate for an older man's attention that you'll do anything to get it?" His words cut through the air like a sharp knife. He took another drag and turned towards you, blowing the smoke towards the horizon. Then he crushed his cigarette on the railing, nonchalant as ever. You remained silent for a moment. You stared at him. Who did he think he was?  Who did he think he was, talking to you like that, with that patronising tone, when you were Jace's girlfriend?  With calculated slowness, his fingers found your chin again and he forced you to lift your head towards him. He moved forward, pushing his body against yours until you were pressed against the iron barrier. He didn't care if the metal scraped against your back. He didn't care if it hurt. For the moment he wanted to be in control, and he wanted to remind you of your place.

All that mattered was the closeness of your face to his. 

Your breath grazed his face, light as a feather.

He grabbed your wrist, his thumb squeezing against your skin where he could feel your pulse racing. Fuck, he loved feeling the control he had over you; it made him harder than he already was.

Suddenly you felt bold. Raising your face to his, you let your lips linger on his for a moment without ever sealing the kiss. His whole body tensed, as if he had to restrain himself from tightening his grip on you. "Are you calling me a whore?" you asked in a calm voice, your provocative smile showing your teeth. "You're married, aren't you? I don't see why it bothers you so much what I do with my boyfriend." You'd hit a nerve. But Daemon hated being wrong, he hated being reminded of his mistakes or the hypocrisy of his behaviour. He tightened his grip. Your wrist was so small, seemed so fragile between his broad fingers. 

You had the feeling he could break it at any moment.

Daemon snorted. Now the big words. You played the innocent, you played the model daughter, but he knew exactly what was hidden behind your too well-behaved facade. Maybe he was insane. Wanting to claim you, wanting to keep you for himself, wanting to protect you from other men's eyes.  The sight of someone else's hands on your waist drove him mad. And yet you were just a passing distraction; just a way to add a little fun to his dull days and his dull marriage, just a way to satisfy a burning attraction, a primal need he couldn't satisfy any other way. 

Fuck. You were an impertinent girl with a sharp tongue, but once you were alone, he had no trouble imagining other uses for that divine tongue of yours.  You, kneeling before him, worshipping him in the most sinful way.  It was simply unholy.

But again, he wasn't a pious man. He was nothing but the devil. He didn't want redemption.

"And what about you little games?" He didn't look away, searching your face for a new trace of insolence - or perhaps a trace of sincerity, anything that would betray what you were really thinking. "I know what you're trying to do. When you deliberately bend down in front of me with that short skirt," his voice grew hoarse, covered with a veil of desire. "When you asked me to tie up the top of your swimming suit."  He could go on and on; reminding you of all the times you'd deliberately, innocently provoked him. The sound of his voice in your ear made you shiver. He let go of your wrist, his fingers moving up your body to play distractedly with the strap of your dress, his eyes roaming over your breasts. You let him, the touch of his fingers against your skin raising goosebumps all over your body.  He couldn't think of anything else but how divine you would look once that dress fell to the floor. "You're fucking asking for it," he concluded, turning his gaze to you.

"And?" You asked, your eyes lifted to his, peering out from under your long, curved lashes. You were indeed going to drive him mad. You bit your lower lip discreetly. He said nothing, the silence hanging over both of you for a moment as he pierced your soul with his icy gaze. Shadows of desire danced in his eyes. "You like to play, don't you?"

That was the spark that ignited the explosion. Something had changed, something in your dangerous games. In testing the limits again and again. In bending them, crossing them just enough to taste the intoxicating forbidden before stepping back behind that invisible protective barrier. You wanted to cross the forbidden line as much as he did, and the tension that had built up between you and him had no alternative but to explode. 

His grip tightened around your wrist, and he pulled you to him, against him.

Fuck the party.

Fuck propriety.

Fuck everyone.

He pressed his lips to yours in an urgent, desperate kiss. His hands moved to either side of your cheeks to keep your lips pressed to his. Like a man gasping for breath, he relied on your mouth, his tongue seeking a passage between your lips. You put your arms around his neck to hold him close. There was no tenderness, no love, just passion and an uncontrollable need to be pressed against each other. The kiss was rough. Unlike Jace, who kissed you tenderly as you lay on his bed, snuggled against him, Daemon wanted to assert his dominance. He wanted to take. He wanted to possess. He wanted to control. 

"We should stop," you whispered between kisses, panting, but it was a lie, you didn't want to stop. Trying to silence you, he slid his hand along your waist, down your hips, his fingers hesitant to slip under your dress - he was already imagining you soaking wet, just for him. You rubbed your thighs as the familiar sensation stirred, sending waves of heat through your core. Daemon caressed the black lace of your panties where your thigh met your centre, and you stifled a moan between his lips.

Anyone could catch you. Jace was nearby. Rhaenyra was nearby. If anyone turned their head, squinted their eyes, decided to get some fresh air on the rooftop, they could catch you by surprise. At any moment. 

People could talk, scandals could break out.  But Daemon didn't care. About his marriage. About the others. About being the centre of attention.

He had no morals, and he did the things he wanted just because he wanted to. 

You broke the kiss to catch your breath, your forehead pressed against his, your lips only inches apart. You knew what you were doing was wrong. You didn't want to think about Jace now - you didn't want to hurt him, but you were in his stepfather's arms and you weren't sure you could put an end to it. For you were like two magnets, inexorably drawn together. 

"We can't." You breathed against his lips, still brushing yours. His eyelids were closed, probably lost in desire, savouring the moment. Were you the only one with a moment's lucidity? Wasn't he supposed to be the most responsible ? He was twice your age. "We shouldn't," you tried to add as Daemon tried to capture your lips again. Behind your facade of trying to push him away, Daemon knew what you really wanted. He could feel it under his fingers; the wetness of the lace on the lingerie you were wearing betrayed your true feelings. 

And he was going to prove it to you.

"They're going to talk -" you began as Daemon pulled you by the wrist across the car park of the luxury downtown hotel. "Then let them talk," he replied coldly, tugging at your wrist to force you to move faster despite your high heels. 

You would be spotted. 

The press would create a scandal; him, cheating on his wife, cheating on the heiress of the Targaryen Corp. 

With you. You, Jacaerys Velaryon's girlfriend.

"Are you afraid?" he sneered, and you rolled your eyes at his immaturity. But you decided to play along. "I'm afraid, with your advanced age, you're not really able to keep up." He didn’t quite find that funny, because he gave you a dark glance. “You’d better watch your fucking mouth, young girl.”

Throughout the ride he had kept his hand possessively on your thigh, playing with the hem of your short dress without ever exploring too far. You bit your lower lip, barely moving your hips, subtly, seeking the warm touch of his fingers. The contact between you was electric. Your attempts at daring earned you the tightening of his grip on your thigh, squeezing your flesh. You had to put an end to it. You had to tell him to stop, to be reasonable, to turn around and take you back to the party before anyone noticed you were gone. But all you could see in Daemon's eyes was coldness and hardness.

You were already too far away. There was no turning back.

And the electric tension between you hadn't diminished - it had increased as the lift carried you up. As soon as the doors had closed, Daemon had you pinned against the wall, your legs wrapped around him, your dress pulled up, to devour your lips. One of his hands was pressed against the wall next to your head, the other firmly gripped around your waist.

Daemon hadn't done things by halves. He'd chosen a luxury hotel, a five-star place that had welcomed only prestigious guests since its opening. But the idea was as exciting as it was indecent; he was going to fuckyou in a suite that offered a panoramic view of all of King's Landing, a private spa with a Jacuzzi, and a bottle of champagne worth thousands.  And above all, in a suite that offered the peace and quiet to spend the night as he wished, with no one around to hear you scream his name.

He had chosen the best for you, nothing but the best. Perhaps that was an exaggeration. All this for a girl half his age, whom he wanted to fuck like some expensive prostitute. But why deprive himself when you, the spoiled brat that you were, were only asking for it? You had some kind of hold over him, some kind of mysterious power that made him lose his mind, but fuck, he loved it. He loved the adrenaline that came with danger, the adrenaline that came with the indecency of taking what wasn't his. 

"So what now?" He heard you mutter. You had regained your insolence as you entered the room, your arms crossed over your chest. What now. As if you didn't know what was coming next. You played innocent, but he knew that underneath your angelic exterior you were anything but naive.  He let out a deep chuckle.

What now? 

Oh, but now the fun was about to begin. Now the evening would take another turn - the one he'd been waiting for. He was going to ravish you.

He approached you with a predatory look on his face. He stood behind you, stroking your shoulders and throat with his fingertips before gathering your mass of hair to one side to free your back and neck. He pushed you forward into the room, close to the large mirror opposite the bed.

"Now you're going to undress." Daemon said, mirroring the words you'd just used in a tone that left no room for argument. He let his fingers slide down the skin of your back to the zip, which he played with, sending shivers down your spine. His lips planted kisses on the nape of your neck and slowly - very slowly - he began to pull the zip down. "I want to see you," he added. His eyes, burning with desire, met yours in the mirror. Each of his words were carefully chosen. Cold and calculated. Authoritative and paternal. You couldn't resist him, and as you slipped the straps from each shoulder, the fabric fell to the floor in a pool of satiny black. 

"You wouldn't want to keep kepus waiting, would you?" You didn't know the word - it was that ancient language for which the Targaryens had a secret. But you could imagine all sorts of meanings, given the context. A whole lot of meanings that sent waves of heat between your thighs, making you wetter than you already were...

You swallowed.

Desire pulsed through your core. It wasn't fair for this old man to have such a powerful effect on you with just a few words.

You shivered. Whether it was the chill of being almost naked in the room or the realisation that you were now at Daemon's mercy, you weren't sure. Because he was in control, he was the master of the situation, and you were now playing by his rules.

In your lingerie you were divine. The black lace hugged your skin to perfection - embracing your rounded breasts, revealing your darker nipples and rounded buttocks. A perfect mix of debauchery and innocence.  It was becoming difficult for Daemon to resist. But he had to make it last. 

Teaching you a lesson in patience and obedience was his mission for tonight.

In the reflection of the mirror, you saw his hands brush against your ribs, coming to rest on your hips. Behind you, he stood a good head taller than you. He was taller, wider too, as if to remind you of your place. What he wanted you to be. An object of his personal desire. One of his fingers slipped lower, playing with the elastic of your lace panties, never venturing beneath the fabric - never soothing the place between your thighs that throbbed too wildly. You moved your hips. You wanted more. More contact. More sensation. His fingers against your bud. 

"Stay still, little one," he replied, holding you in place, a mischievous smile stretching across his lined lips. His deep voice vibrated in the hollow of your ear. His fingers were slow, light. Painful. "I didn't say you could move." You struggled to maintain eye contact, to watch your own reflection, so vulnerable, lost in his arms, with his hands on your body, mean and possessive, when you weren't supposed to belong to him.  "Look at you," he whispered in a soft breath that made the hairs on the back of your neck quiver. Your naked body stiffened against his, still clothed.

His fingers slipped lower. You held back a moan. He stroked the spot between your thighs, finding wetness through the fabric. "Do you need kepus here, little one?" His hungry smile widened. That damn word again, that damn word you didn't know - but which seemed dangerously out of place in this situation.  You closed your eyes, and as if by reflex, your hand closed around his wrist to keep him there. You couldn't utter a word or form a coherent thought. "Looks like you lost your tongue, huh?" he added sternly.

"Shut up, old man," you manage to say in spite of everything - without answering his question. You didn't want to give him that privilege. You would have liked to come up with something else, a clever retort, or something that was so characteristic of you - just to show him that you weren't afraid to bite. But you were so lost in your pleasure that the words died in your throat.

"Old man, really?" He frowned. His fingers stopped moving. He held them against you - his forefinger through the fabric, against your entrance. Forbidding you to make the slightest movement, to move your hips, to search for friction. Forcing you to look at your own image, your reflection that proved you'd been caught playing your own game. "Then use your words like the big girl you are and tell me what you want."

Leaning forward, he let his lips brush your shoulder, one hand pulling the fabric of your panties aside to slip his fingers underneath. He wasn't going to give you what you wanted right away - not when you'd called him old man, not when you'd been insolent. His trousers had become ridiculously tight and his pulse was racing with excitement even as he tried to remain calm.  Then his fingers caressed the side of your folds - running over the soft, tender skin, carefully avoiding the little knob at the top of your thighs that would give you so much pleasure. He traced your slit, gathering irrefutable evidence that you desired him. 

You held back a moan. 

He didn't look away from your reflection as his fingers spread your folds, as he collected your wetness on his middle finger, as he finally let his thumb rest against the small hidden pearl. He could feel you weakening, your legs giving way, but he held you up with his arms, to force you to stay firmly on your feet. He wasn't finished with you. Not yet. He hadn't told you you could sit up or lie down. Nor had he told you that you could look away.

And as long as you continued to misbehave, he'd have to be the one to put you in your place.

"Eyes on me." His sharp voice echoed through the room, between the wet sounds of his fingers against the most intimate part of your body and the moans your full lips gently released. Daemon was merciful; he gave you time to obey. And it was only when you opened your eyes again, when your angelic, pleading gaze met his once more in the reflection of the mirror, that his fingers became bolder. He pressed his index and middle fingers against your entrance, tracing a few small circles before plunging inside you.

You clenched beneath him, against him, around him. 

"Look at you," he murmured, punctuating his sentences with hungry kisses that were sure to leave a purple necklace the next morning. "So wet for me. And I've only just started using my fingers." His other hand slid the strap over your shoulder, then deftly unhooked your bra to explode your chest. You felt his thumbs run over the roundness of your breasts, causing your nipples to harden. Then he withdrew his fingers from your warm den, his thumbs hooked under the elastic of your panties, and the piece of fabric that still separated him from your body fell to the floor. He admired you for a moment, before he found your crotch again, pushing his fingers inside you, curling them against the spot that made you see the stars. Just as you were about to look away, Daemon's strong hand closed around your jaw, holding your face up to your own reflection. " Do you see how well you take my fingers inside you ?".

The image reflected in the mirror was one of debauchery. You, panting, desperately trying to keep your balance. Him, behind you, fully clothed, with his fingers deep inside you.

Daemon relished the flush in your cheeks, the shudder that ran through your body, the sighs that escaped your parted lips. You had that innocent, angelic, look that he was dying to tear apart. 

Looking innocent was your weapon. A weakness you used against him, he knew it.

"Look at you, the model girl acting like a whore." He stared into the reflection where his fingers disappeared between your glistening folds. Your walls tightened - you were close, much too close. The wave of pleasure was about to overwhelm your body, and as you felt the release coming, you threw your head back to welcome it.

Your whole body convulsed.

But Daemon didn't give you time to catch your breath. 

"You're so fucking wet," he whispered as he removed his fingers from your warmth and brought them to your own lips. He spread your wetness all over them, pushing his middle and index fingers against your tongue so you could taste yourself. "So wet, just for the old man I am." 

It was naughty – perfectly naughty. The taste of your own essence permeated your taste buds as you wrapped your tongue around his fingers. 

Daemon lifted you up to throw you onto the bed, face down on the mattress, a little more roughly than he would have liked. His eyes shining with anticipation, he placed a hand on your bottom to caress the curve of it.  He wondered what would happen if it turned red.

You were still trying to catch your breath. To come to your senses after your orgasm. 

You couldn't form a single coherent thought.

"Tell me, young lady. Do you think you've been obedient enough tonight?" he asked as he sat down beside you, his hand stroking your chin in a fatherly way. "Or do you need to be punished as a reminder?"

You widened your eyes. Punished. A ball formed in your stomach - a mixture of anxiety and excitement. 

"I don't see what I did wrong," you huffed, defying him with your eyes. "I always behave well. I'm a good girl."

Daemon raised his eyebrows. "A good girl, really?" He lifted your chin, as if inspecting your face for any trace of genuineness. He seemed to hesitate for a moment. Reflecting. As if thinking about the punishment he was going to give you. "Even when you came without my permission?" He paused. "I don't fucking care how good it feels, you'd better not come until I tell you to."

Oh. For that too, you needed his permission. You looked away, embarrassed. But the answer Daemon was waiting for didn't come fast enough. You felt like you'd been swimming underwater for too long - but Daemon was in no mood for patience, not tonight.  He tightened his fingers around the firm flesh of your bottom as if to signal what would inevitably happen. For whatever the answer, Daemon knew there was only one possible outcome. 

And he loved the idea.

His member throbbed with anticipation in the tight confines of his trousers, but he ignored it. His toothy grin reflected the pleasure he felt at being in control, at being the one who determined the events of the evening and their pace. He was the one who would mark you, who would make you yield, who would make your whole body sore and red and tired until you couldn't take it anymore.

"Well?" Daemon added, allowing you the kindness to catch your breath. "With your words." Perhaps he was being too soft on you. Too lenient. But in any case, you could be glad for the brief respite he gave you. Because soon you'd be whimpering again, all weepy and begging. He had a prospect he was looking forward to: reveling in your tears of pleasure and overstimulation.

You had tried to provoke him? Now you had to face the consequences. And Daemon hoped you would be able to.

"I have been exemplary. All evening." You replied, turning your head over your shoulder to look at him with your wide eyes. "And after all, you're not my father. You don't get to punish me."

Daemon's eyes fell on you, his hard face still set in sternness. His gaze still burned with the same intensity of control and danger. But behind that lustful glow, he had his usual look, the one he wore when he was pissed off. It didn't bode well for you.

"You haven't been exemplary." He hissed. "You wanted to act like a whore. So I'm going to treat you like a whore." With that, Daemon stood up. He left you there, on the bed, the product of your desire smeared on your inner thighs. Completely naked. You watched him walk away towards the vanity at the other end of the room in a heavy silence.

You were confused.

You weren't sure you understood what had happened, what was going to happen, but the danger excited you.

Once in front of the vanity, he took the time to slowly unfasten the watch from his wrist and carefully place it on the marble tabletop. He took the time to remove his wedding ring from his finger. He took the time to take off his suit jacket and place it on the back of the chair. He took the time to open the bottle of champagne in the ice cube tray and pour himself a glass. He took the time to do all this - slowly, meticulously.

As if you didn't exist.

Of course, he could feel your gaze on him, your big eyes following his every move with incomprehension. But he wanted to play with his prey, like a cat with a mouse. And it was simply delicious to feel you so unsettled, to feel yourself losing your footing, to see you become a mass of hesitation and insecurity. He was in control and that was a feeling Daemon loved more than anything.

He returned to the edge of the bed and sat down, facing the mirror. He rolled up each sleeve of his shirt over his muscular forearms and finally, he turned his attention back to you. "Come, little one," he said, patting his thigh to entice you to come closer, a ravenous smile stretching his lips. "On kepus' laps." You gulped. You moved forward slowly, like a frightened animal. "Girls like you need to be taught a lesson, don't you think? 

You felt desire grow between your thighs - the familiar tingle at your core. "What lesson, old man?" You countered, your tongue flicking out of your lips as you settled into his laps like a little girl who deserved her punishment.  But wasn't that what you were; a little girl playing in the big leagues?

Daemon took the time to trace the full shape of your ass with a warm gentleness that contrasted sharply with the act he was about to perform. His fingers explored your skin, sliding lower, between the folds that still glistened with the essence of your desire. He let his fingers roam the most sensitive part of you, of your body, gathering the evidence of what you were feeling to soak his own fingers.

"You're going to count with me," Daemon whispered in his hoarse, urgent voice. " Up to ten. You can do it, can't you?"

You mentally prepared yourself for what was about to happen, your body tensing against his. You had lost all your repartee, all your wit. You were no longer the confident, bold young woman who had provoked him all these days - you were a little girl lost in the laps of a man far too old for her. 

You took a deep breath. And the first blow came. The palm of his hand struck the skin of your bottom with a slap that broke the silence between you. "One," you murmured as he stroked the skin he'd just bruised, his fingers lingering between your folds again. You stifled a moan. "Such a good girl," he whispered into your ear. 

And then again. The touch of his palm against your skin. The pain, red and hot, delicious too, spreading through you.  Two. And again. Three. And again. Four. And again. Five.

The red that now coloured your buttocks made him even harder than he already was. It was always that feeling of control, always that feeling of dominance, always the idea of teaching you a lesson that turned him on so much. He must have been completely sick in the head, but who wasn't, in his family?

He was no ordinary man, he was a Targaryen, and he was above the ordinary people. 

He paused for a moment, his fingers venturing once more into the space between your folds to catch the dripping wetness. "Tell me, is it the thought of being punished that makes you so wet, young girl?" he asked, wiping his fingers over your thigh. You held your breath. 

Your moans grew louder, closer, as his hand met your ass once more, and Daemon knew you were struggling to stay focused. You were losing control of your mind and it was all because of him. It was perfect.

"Up to ten, I said," he pointed out with a mixture of firmness and softness in his voice. "So? How far are we?" You searched for words. How could he ask you to think, to count - even to 10 - when you were incapable of thinking clearly with his fingers there? You were too drunk with pleasure to form a coherent thought. 

But Daemon demanded that you finish the count.  Two more.  Two more, and you had to use your words to count them out loud.

"Your words, girl. Don't make me tell you twice," Daemon repeated as his fingers traced the outside of your folds before parting them, stroking your slit, applying a little pressure to your entrance with the flat of a finger before withdrawing his hand.

But there was no answer, and Daemon sighed. Silly girl, making no effort, weren't you? Perhaps he should be more patient. After all, you had endured your punishment so well, with diligence. "So demanding, and for what?” He asked, his condescending tone seeping into his every word. "Be a good girl. I know you can do it, dear one. We were at eight."

You started counting again, with difficulty. Daemon gave you the remaining two slaps to complete your punishment, and he looked at you with pride.  You had taken them, all of them, with docility. He stroked your cheek. You would no doubt have a mark the next day, judging by the pink colour that now adorned your skin. But such a sight, coupled with the sight of his essence that would soon be dripping from your entrance, was something Daemon was determined to imprint under his eyelids.

"See, it wasn't so hard after all, was it?" he asked, his voice honeyed as he caressed your lower lip with his thumb. "I'm proud of you." Your eyes were brimming with tears - of joy or pain, you couldn't really tell. Probably a bit of both. You felt exposed, you felt like a hot mess, and yet you would have gladly taken more if Daemon had asked. 

You let Daemon guide you into a sitting position, your legs falling to either side of his muscular thighs. Hiding a wince of pain, you wondered for a moment whether to curse or thank him. You couldn't form a single sentence, couldn't utter a single word. So you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring your bodies together and your lips found refuge against his. The feel of his tongue against yours was comforting. Underneath you could feel the fabric of Daemon's trousers rubbing against your bare core. It was too much and not enough at the same time. You weren't satisfied with what he had given you. 

You needed more, you needed him. Inside you.

Daemon tightened his grip on your hip, his jaw clenched. He could feel the pressure building, like a storm ready to break. He wanted to grab you by the shoulders, press you against the mattress beneath him and take what he wanted from you. Without remorse. Without a thought for you, without a thought for your own pleasure. It took all his self-control to tame his impulses. As the kiss grew more passionate, the flat of his hand settled against the nape of your neck. His hand was so large compared to your face. He was so big compared to you. Your hips moved in a long, slow motion and you looked so vulnerable, completely naked against him, spilling your wetness all over his expensive Hugo Boss trousers.

He wondered if you could feel the effect you were having on him, the growing bulge trapped in his trousers.

When you broke the kiss, he gently tucked one of your curls behind your ear. Something in him had softened, maybe a little too much. Fuck. Since when had he become soft? Since when had he become anything other than a harsh and selfish man who cared only for his own pleasure? Deep inside, an inexplicable feeling made him doubt. It was paradoxical. And it irritated him to the bone.

Keeping control had always been a way of protecting himself.

Something sparkled in your eyes, he could barely make it out - but already you were sliding to your knees, in front of him, at his feet. You were already undoing the buckle on his belt to free his hard, angry member. "Let me show you how good I can be," you whispered against the tip of his reddened member. Your fingers wrapped around his cock. It was warm in your hand, heavy. You struggled to close your grip around it. Fuck, he was large.

You brought his member to your lips, the salty taste spreading across your tongue. You traced a vein on the underside with the tip of your tongue. "Am I doing well?" you breathed as you placed a series of kisses along his hard length. It was his turn to have lost all possibility of speech - or thought - as you felt his hand digging into your hair, hardening, forcing you to take him into your mouth, and you grinned. You let him guide you. You let him encourage you to take him deeper into your throat, feeling yourself drool around him. The act was messy, filthy, but delicious. He was heavy on your tongue, and the salty taste became more pronounced as his member throbbed.

Daemon couldn't help but think that this was your place. That he wanted to keep you there for all eternity. "You're doing well," he agreed. "But if you are as good as you say, you will have to take more of it," He paused, and as if to reassure you, he placed a fatherly hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing the space where he had disappeared between your lips. "You can do it, can't you?"

But he wouldn't last long. The feel of your lips, your wet mouth around him, the sight of you on your knees would be enough to make him come. 

"Look at you," he growled. "On your knees, where you belong. Sucking kepus' cock like the whore you are." It was getting harder and harder for him not to just spill out on your tongue. He was close. He would not be long.  But he didn't want to end now, not in your mouth, not when the night was just beginning.

So he grabbed your hair and pushed you back, letting you catch your breath for a moment. You had done well. But he wasn't done with you yet. You stood up timidly, hesitant, and Daemon took his time to study your naked body. You were beautiful. Beautifully young.

"Now, on the bed, young girl," he ordered, "before I change my mind." You complied. A thick tension hovered between the two of you, the result of a forbidden game that was becoming increasingly dangerous. But Daemon loved it. He loved this game. And judging by your reactions, he wasn't the only one.

He stripped completely before joining you. His body was sculpted to perfection - and you couldn't take your eyes off him. With a tap of his index and middle fingers on your thighs, Daemon told you to spread them, which you did. 

You felt even smaller under him. 

"I'm going to enter you and you're going to take all of me." His hand caressed your cheek briefly - always that contradictory combination of softness and firmness that drove you crazy - before wrapping his hand around his own member and rubbing it against your pearl. He didn't seek to penetrate you right away. He teased you. Moving back and forth between your swollen folds. Slowly. Too slowly.

And finally, he pushed into you. The intense feel of him washed over you, stretching your opening nicely as he sank into you. He filled you in a way no one else had - he was wide. He was deep. You closed your legs around him, subtly undulating your hips to let him dive deeper. The sensation was divine.

"Such a tight little cunt," he growled. Your nails dug into his back and he grunted into the hollow of your neck, his pelvis thrusting forward to bury himself further between your walls, to split you open. To go deeper. To hit that spot inside you again and again. "Made for my cock only." You swallowed the rasp that escaped his lips, your hands searching his hair, his skin, every inch of his body.

Suddenly, Daemon emerged from your warmth and deftly flipped you onto your stomach. "On your hands and knees." Moaning, tearful, you tried to cling to the sheets with the desperation of a castaway trying to escape drowning. "Please," you begged, rolling your hips back. "I need you. Demon, please."  He chuckled.

From behind you, he lifted your chin. "Open your eyes," he ordered again, and you obeyed, finding yourself facing your own reflection. "What do you see?" he asked as he plunged into you again, his hands gripping your hips. 

The vision before you reflected nothing but lechery - Daemon moving inside you, from behind, inflicting punishing thrusts. You wanted to look away in embarrassment, your cheeks flushed, but you knew that would be disobeying Daemon's orders. 

So you watched as he ruined you.

"U-Us," you replied with a groan. You wouldn't last long. "Us," Daemon repeated. But your answer wasn't enough - wasn't good enough for him.  "And what are we doing, little one?" 

Your cheeks were on fire. Your whole body was on fire. The words he was waiting for couldn't pass your lips. It was too much. Everything was too much. "We are..." The words were confused. They jumbled in your head. "You're - you're...fucking me," you stammered. Daemon rolled his hips harder, deeper, while his fingers sought out your little bud to accompany his thrusts. "Such bad words for a pretty mouth like yours," Daemon reprimanded you, emphasising his words with a particularly brutal thrust. You closed your eyes.

You were about to –

"No, young girl. Not yet. First, I want you to look at yourself taking me so well." Your eyes met his in the mirror. His movements became jerkier, your breathing more panting. "Daemon, please," you begged, not really knowing what you were asking. You felt his fingers. You felt his member inside you. You felt his warm chest against your back. You felt too much.

"Now you're going to be a good girl and keep everything I'm going to give you inside you," Daemon grunted, between erratic movements that became more and more slippery. Your intimate walls were squeezing him perfectly and he wished the feeling would never end.  “I wonder what your boyfriend would say –“

As your climax washed over your entire body, you collapsed onto the mattress. Daemon quickly followed, pulling your hips up against him to bring your pelvis against his, and he poured himself into you, his hot seed flowing between your warm walls. He lay still for a moment, savouring the bliss of his own release.

You winced as he pulled out and lay back on the bed beside you. "You've made a mess," he said as you felt the combination of your fluids running down your thigh to the sheet. "And whose fault is that, old man?" you grumbled as you instinctively lay down next to him, seeking comfort in snuggling up to him, curled up against his chest. "Yours," he replied.  He put an arm around you to keep you close. 

"Daemon, I wanted to tell you -" you started, but you could feel that he was somewhere else. His body was tense, his jaw clenched, his head full of thoughts that eluded you, and you wanted to ask him what was wrong. 

What had caused this change in his demeanour? 

He'd had you in bed. He'd ruined you. He'd fucked you unholy. He made you feel things even Jace couldn't.

So why did he suddenly seem so distant?

The comfort you sought was short-lived. Daemon was already reaching into his suit jacket to grab his pack of cigarettes. Throwing his shirt over his shoulders, he walked over to the window and took a deep drag. You looked at him, your heart sinking. It was stupid. It was stupid what you were about to say and you immediately put it out of your mind.

He was married and you were young enough to be his daughter, what interest could he have in you other than a forbidden one-night stand?

Daemon didn't look back. He tried to reassure himself that it was just a void he was trying to fill. A fantasy he had fulfilled; corrupting you. He wasn't the romantic type. He wasn't the type to fall in love - his marriage was proof of that. He tired of people easily.  He wasn't a good person.

But perhaps the game between you two had gone too far, and the idea frightened Daemon more than ever. He'd thought he could just take what he wanted - be satisfied with that and then send you back to your routine. But when he saw you in bed, naked between the sheets, his heart skipped a beat. He hated the idea.

Because he wasn't sure he was in control of the situation anymore.

[astroamorsworld]

Part of Fortune in the houses part 1

This is something a little different from what I usually post and I wanted to just try something new and also go down the route of lots and asteroids eventually. So, with that being said, I hope you enjoy!

What is Part of Fortune?

The part of fortune, also called the Lot of Fortune or Pars Fortuna, is a calculated point on your birth chart that reflects areas where you might find luck and success.

Part of Fortune in the 1st house

Having your Part of Fortune in the 1st house is a pretty lucky placement to have imo. You may be a naturally lucky person, and are just always in good mood, stemming from having a lot of confidence within yourself and high self esteem. These traits, on top of being naturally lucky, will attract even more good luck and opportunities your way, so you’re most definitely blessed with this placement. This placement may indicate that you have a lot of determination and willpower when it comes to getting things done, so you’re definitely a hard worker too. Your personality shines through in your everyday life so in work fields that rely on you having a vibrant personality would really work best for natives with this placement. If you want to really get the most out of this placement, i’d say you need to take initiative and persue your dreams!! If you put yourself out there you will get what you want!! (As someone with this placement, I need really take my own advice🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️)

Part of Fortune in the 2nd house

With this placement you may too, have high esteem. You may also tend to attract or create material abundance. You might find that your talents and skills translate well into financial security and that you have a good eye for things of value or things that can become valuable. This placement could also give you the ability to thrive in careers that involve finances, like accounting, investing, or sales, could be particularly fortunate for you. Success can also find you in fields utilise your creativity and resourcefulness, like entrepreneurship, crafts, or the arts. So in terms of getting the most out of this placement, i’d say develop your talents and show people your worth. Dont let them take advantage of it though. Take risks and use what resources you have wisely.

Part of Fortune in the 3rd house

With this placement, it’s possible that you have lucky siblings, cousins and even neighbours, or when you’re around them you become luckier. You’re also likely to have good relationships them too. Your education experience may have been one to remember, as you may have had a good experience there. You may be naturally smart, and find it easy to retain information, so school may have been a breeze for you. School trips may have been fun and better for you than the average ones. You are probably a good communicator, and know how to communicate in a healthy way. So this could mean that you excel in public speaking, teaching and writing. Short trips may be good for you also. So if you wanna get the most out of this placement, USE YOUR VOICE and maintain the relationships (i mentioned before) with those around you.

Part of Fortune in the 4th house

With this placement, you’re likely to have a good relationship with your mother, and with your family. Just a good home life in general. You may be in tune with your family background and culture, and take a real interest in your roots. It’s also a possibility that you may have been born into some sort of wealth, whether its from your entire family, or on your mothers side or your dads side, the point being that someone you’re related to is likely to be wealthy. You are also probably in tune with your emotions and feelings and know how to manage them quite well. Most definitely emotionally mature. You may also be a bit of a homebody, since you may love your home so much. Interior design or gardening may be hobbies or careers you want to persue. You could also excel in social care, therapy, or childcare. Working from home is where you probably do your best work. So if you want to get the most out of this placement, invest in your home and nurture your relationship with your family. Get in touch with your roots!!

I would’ve done this all as one big post but i’ve had to split it into 3 parts because i’ve had issues with saving my work to drafts and don’t want to risk losing 1 big piece of work. But i will post part 2 and 3 in the coming days. :)

Check out my pinned post for more observations!💖

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Next part

[a-book-of-creatures]

It’s been nagging at me for a while, so I’m going to try to put together my thoughts on the Quetzalcoatlus sequence in Prehistoric Planet 2. In the grand scheme of things it’s tiny, insignificant, and I loved Prehistoric Planet, but I’m not going to turn down the opportunity to talk at length about scavenging birds.

(Spoilers (?) for Prehistoric Planet 2 ahead. Go watch it!)

I’m talking about the part where a Tyrannosaurus is driven off from an Alamosaurus carcass (presumably carrion and not killed by the tyrannosaur). The tyrannosaur is expressly stated to be concerned about losing an eye to those Whopping Big Beaks. The pterosaurs aggressively fly over it a few times and honk angrily until the tyrannosaur walks away in Shameful Defeat, leaving the carcass to the pterosaurian pterrors.

And that confused me.

Before I go on, I want to point out that this is not a Who Would Win discussion, I’m not going to argue for or against one or another. Not going to discuss if Tyrannosaurus should really have won because of the massive weight advantage and lack of fragile bones/wings, or if the big landlubber had it coming and the numbers and aerial advantage was too much. I’m not arguing about Quetzalcoatlus being scary or not either (it’s scary as all hell).

No, the issue I had was with the beaks.

This is the Quetzalcoatlus as it appears in the show.

Impressive beak, isn’t it?

But it’s not the beak of a flesh tearer.

Let’s back up a bit. Birds that eat meat by tearing it into manageable chunks typically evolve sharp, hooked beaks to make up for the lack of teeth. Like this eagle for instance.

Majestic. They make the cutest sounds too. Look up golden eagle sounds, don’t believe the red-tailed hawk propaganda.

Raptor bills look intimidating, but they’re not there for killing. They’re cutlery. The talons do all the work, and then the beak tears up the meat into delicious gobbets of protein.

Even shrikes get in on the act. They don’t have killer feet, so they use their ripping bills to impale prey and tear at it.

Aw, look at it, it thinks it’s accipitrids.

The Quetzalcoatlus’ bill, though, doesn’t have that hook. It doesn’t look like the bill of a bird that dismembers its food. The closest thing I could think of to compare it with was stork bills. Specifically the marabou.

Ol’ pickaxe-for-a-face. This is the beak of an animal that stabs smaller prey and swallows them whole with minimum processing.

But a bill this long and pointed, turns out, is good for stabbing but not for tearing meat. Marabous are scavengers, but they won’t tear apart a carcass on their own. The “[b]ill [is] not well designed for dismembering carcasses, so [it] normally steals scraps from vultures or snatches up morsels that are dropped” (del Hoyo, Elliott, and Sargatal, 1992).

As you can see, vultures retained the hallmark accipitrid steak knife face, and are much better at Ripping and Tearing. This one (the lappet-faced vulture) generally goes first, being big and strong enough to Rip and Tear tough hide and get to the fleshy interior.

In fact, “[d]espite its huge bill, the [marabou] stork can rarely dominate a carcass and normally stands by the much more numerous vultures and nips in from time to time to snatch morsels which are dropped by others, though Tawny Eagles (Aquila rapax) in turn often steal food from the stork. The bill is not apparently very effective for cutting up meat and dismemberment is normally carried out quite simply by pulling” (del Hoyo, Elliott, and Sargatal, 1992). And if marabous have trouble with the average carcass, I wouldn’t imagine Quetzalcoatlus would fare much better with a titanosaur, which presumably has rather thick skin too.

One big happy family. That’s a much smaller carcass being shared (with the obligatory squabbling) by a whole bunch of dinosaurs. Neither vultures nor marabou are trying to monopolize it.

So... I don’t see why the big stork pterosaurs would chase away a perfectly good meat processor. I know everyone wants to see Big Prehistoric Animals Fighting With Lethal Intent, and everyone wants to see Tyrannosaurus Getting Knocked Down A Peg By The New Hotness, but I think it would have been a more interesting and believable scene - not to mention more in keeping with Prehistoric Planet’s attempt to be as scientifically believable as possible - if the pterosaurs acted like marabous the size of giraffes, both them and the tyrannosaur keeping a respectful distance of each other, and snapping up bits of meat left behind. And maybe the pterosaurs pulling the dinosaur’s tail for good measure, the way ravens bully eagles.

But it would make for a much less exciting scene. Who wants to watch a bunch of scavengers milling around a carcass and honking at each other as they jockey for the best morsels and settling their differences in ways that involve as little risk as possible? I mean, I do, but I don’t assume the average viewer does.

And that concludes my altogether far too long opinion on a single scene from a great series. Of course, I’m not a paleontologist and never will be, I’m only approaching this with what I know about birds, so please feel free to let me know if there’s any details of Quetzalcoatlus anatomy that do in fact suggest it could rip and tear!

References

del Hoyo, J.; Elliott, A.; and Sargatal, J. eds. (1992) Handbook of the Birds of the World, Vol. 1. Lynx Edicions, Barcelona.

[bluejayblueskies]

the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the ambition of the world | phynoma

[ID: Two pictures of two hand-bound books, the first of which shows their front covers and the second of which shows their spines and part of their front covers at an angle. The leftmost book is bound in yellow bookcloth and has a hand-embroidered smiling mouth with bloody teeth on the bottom portion of the front and back cover. The title, "the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the ambition of the world" is in the top right corner in black as well as the words "volume one" in maroon. The rightmost book is bound in red bookcloth and has a hand-embroidered ribcage on the lefthand side of the front cover and the righthand side of the back cover. The title, "the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the ambition of the world" is in the top right corner in black as well as the words "volume two" in white. Both volumes have stitching across the spine that joins the embroidery on the front and back covers so that the design stretches across the spine. /End ID]

It's finally time to share the books I made for the 2023 Rusty Quill Big Bang, hosted by @pilesofnonsense! This year, I was paired with the wonderful @phynoma, who wrote a post-circus AU entitled the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the ambition of the world where Jon is marked by an entity known as the Consuming that feeds off hunger and desire and focuses, in Jon's case, around sexual hunger and desire. It's a truly spectacular fic with excellent worldbuilding, spot-on characterization, and a wide variety of sexual encounters of all flavors, and I highly recommend it!

As this fic is written in transcript format, I wanted to go with an open-spine binding style that would have the advantage of both lying extremely flat when opened and giving the fic a more screenplay-like appearance. Also as a consequence of the transcript format, the final page count ended up being large enough that I split the fic into two volumes, the first of which covers season three and the second of which covers seasons four and five.

[ID: Two pictures of the same hand-bound books, the first of which shows volume one and the second of which shows volume two. Both books are fully open to display their front and back covers touching. We can see that the embroidered design, half of which is on the front cover and half of which is on the back, forms a complete picture when the book is fully open. /End ID]

Each volume has hand-embroidered front and back covers, with titles done in black, white, and maroon gel pen. The covers were designed so that when the book is fully open, the front and back cover designs come together to form one single cohesive image. Additionally, when the book is closed, the spine stitching was done so that the design stretches across the spine, thus making the full design complete whether the book is fully open or fully closed. I'm really proud of how these covers turned out, and even though the embroidery took much longer than I anticipated it taking, it's definitely something I would do again!

More description and pictures of the interior of the books are below the cut:

I went with a visually simple yet technically complex design for the typeset of this fic. Microsoft Word's styles were very much my friend, as well as its advanced find-and-replace feature, to automate a lot of the formatting for this fic. The most complex bits were the group chat excerpts and making sure all the profile pictures were positioned correctly, as well as the email chain excerpts in volume one. The text messages were done separately in an HTML workspace and then included via screenshots, and because I had an HTML/CSS text message code already sitting around from a previous project, those were relatively simple to format!

[ID: Eight pictures of the interior of the hand-bound books from previous photos. The first picture shows the title page of volume one, which has the title and author name in black and "volume one" in red, as well as a picture of a ginko tree. The second picture shows the title page of volume two, which has the title and author name in black and "volume two" in red, as well as a picture of a cherry blossom tree. The third picture shows the colophon and table of contents for volume two, highlighting the binder logos--a bluejay and a bookpress--and the faux-label table of contents title. The fourth picture shows the chapter header page for the chapter "voyeurism" in volume one, featuring brackets around the notes, content warnings, and pairings for the chapter as well as a quote from the confessions of augustine, which is separated from the warnings with an open eye graphic. The fifth picture shows the beginning of the chapter "hunger in the garden" in volume two, displaying the transcript formatting of the text as well as the faux-label chapter name on the top left. The sixth picture shows text messages in volume two, which are formatted the same as text messages on an iOS system with blue and gray bubbles and a name header that says "Jonathan Sims." The seventh picture shows some chapter text as well as a faux-office memo, done in a sans serif font, written from Elias Bouchard to the Archives team. The eighth picture shows on the left page faux emails, done in an iOS style with profile pictures for each email, and on the right page a faux-group message with profile pictures for each member and a header that labels the groupchat as the Snarkivists. /End ID]

The fonts used for this typeset were chosen based on those used for the unofficial Magnus Archives transcripts--DejaVu Sans Mono for the chapter intro pages and Libre Baskerville for the body text. I'm not 100% sure that those are the actual fonts used for the unofficial transcripts, but based on the reverse font search I did, those seem to be a close match for it.

This was a big project for me, and I'm so happy to finally see it to completion! Once again, a big thanks to Phynoma for being such a wonderful partner to work with--I'm excited to send you these books so you can see them in person 💜

[tightsweatyclothes]

The advantage of the new padded suits is that they offer extremely high protection against heat, cold, bullets and shrapnel. The downside, of course, is that they are suffocatingly hot, even in air-conditioned rooms. Punished for a mistake in the line of duty, Agent 009, the newest addition to the team, is forced to wear the helmet variant until further notice, her head sealed in with clear anti-fog glass which traps heat and humidity worse than the original suit. She reaches to wipe a drop of sweat from her forehead, but only comes up against the glass of the helmet, and she growls in frustration. She pulls at the seams of the suit, trying to get some slight breeze in the muggy interior, but fails, her only reward being a painful electric shock. The collar which seals the helmet to her suit is far too tight for comfort, constantly reminding her of its presence. She pulls at it, and gets shocked again. A growl of frustration into the gag.

The others prepare to go off for a long weekend, well-earned rest after a mission, and as an additional reward the other girls are finally allowed to take off their suits for the few days they are allowed to go home. She stares longingly as they strip down and bathe, change into civilian clothes while she swelters in the helmet, dreading her scheduled treadmill session later. She makes to scratch her nose, wipe away the trickling sweat on her face, only to bump against the glass cage of her helmet. She tries again to remove the helmet, is shocked by the electrodes in her suit for it. They giggle at her predicament, and she glares at them. For the female agents who get to remove their suits perhaps once a month, denying her this rare comfort is pure torture.

A grueling hour of jogging on a steep upward slope later, she returns to the empty dorm. Gasping for air, she tries time and again to loosen the collar, wipe her dripping sweat, remove the infernal helmet, and each time the searing shocks put her in place. Her phone is filled with photos from the others, of food and drinks and shopping, and she only wants to smash her phone on the floor in pent-up rage which has nowhere to go. Soon, the time allowed for her to use her phone is up, and she places it in the designated area before locking herself into the punishment cage, waiting for dinner. Trapped between the six walls which do not let her stand up or lie down, she curses her own incompetence, screams at herself for the slip-up which led her to this tiny cage, but it is too late. Her nose itches, a line of sweat tickles her ear, and she clutches at the suffocating glass of the helmet in a fury, denied even such a simple action as scratching her nose. She tugs at the tight collar, and another shock courses through her, another moan of frustration.

[rileythelonelyalien]

Dottore x GN! Reader

A/N: Hello! this fic was slightly rushed lol, I hope you enjoy this fan fiction , it hasn't been proofread so far so if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes i do apologise !!!

this is a Fluff Dottore fan fiction that is about a small interaction with the clones , this does have a 3.1 spoiler , maybe???(i mention the name of one of the dottores clones used in the game).

You were waiting for prime dottore outside his lab. He had told you to wait outside his lab as he still had some unfinished business to do. You let your legs hover above the ground as you sat on a bench nearby , humming to yourself as you began to observe your surroundings, finally taking into account the decor that was used just outside his lab. You smile to yourself as you know this could not have been done by Dottore himself, it looks too stylish and chic , he would never care for such things.

In this time that you were spending to take in the interior design you caught a familiar tinge of blue hair , the same hair that belonged to your lover. However as you turn to face him�� you notice this isn't the current dottore who is still in the lab. He wore a different mask and he stood across from you , almost as he was apprehensive to approach you. He continued to stand across from you , in an effort to ease some tension you give him a soft smile and wave at him. This seemed to work in encouraging Dottore to ease up and be more comfortable in approaching you , as he gets closer , you shuffle up on the bench you were sitting on and pat the space next to you , maintaining your smile. In response you get a sharp toothed grin from him as he promptly sets himself beside you.

Before you realise , he is already playing with your hair , it almost seemed like he was examining it entranced by your features. It was almost as if he was trying to admire all of you and give all of you attention , he just so happened to start with the hair. You let out a chuckle as you find this behaviour frankly to be quite adorable. As soon as you let out an indication of joy , his crimson eyes lock onto yours , his fascination clearly evident. His hand moves from your hair to your chin gently bringing your face closer to his as he continues to maintain eye contact. ‘What was that you just did? Do it again!’ his silence had been broken, you nervously break eye contact with him. ‘I- uh what do you mean?, do you mean me laughing? I- i can't just do that on demand’ you assumed that was what he was asking for. His lips pressed together almost as if he were in deep thought , you maintained still in his grasp. However unbeknownst to you his other hand had already begun to slither downwards , picking out the places that would be your weak spot and soon enough ; an attack ensued. He had managed to deduce all your ticklish areas and took this advantage , being attacked in such a way you couldn't help but burst out with laughter as you tried to grab the hand that was tickling you. As you squirmed and laughed uncontrollably in Dottore’s arms his smile once again exposed his unusually pointed teeth. He too let out a lowly chuckle as he revelled in your laughter , truly it sounded just as good if not better than the screams of his ‘patients’. 

Unfortunately this moment was cut short as the sound of heavy and angry footsteps was coming your way , soon enough you heard another familiar voice shouting ‘ NUMBER 6 WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU RUN OFF TOO?!’. Just by hearing this you could tell it was Dottores favourite clone , the omega build, the clone he relies on the most. The clone with you currently stiffened, as he looked around to make out where the other Dottore was. Alas it was too late for this clone to escape once again as the other dottore had emerged into the hall you were waiting in. ‘AH ! there you are number 6 you are definitely a scoundrel , although i don't remember being so rebellious at this age ’ he talks out loud to himself as he approaches Dottore , the sixth one according to the other dottore. He opens his mouth to scold the clone when he catches you , within the clone's arms, he goes quiet and averts his eyes between you and Dottore. A sigh escapes his lips , you were preparing yourself to get scolded by him too but then he sits himself on the other side of you and turns to face you and the other clone. ‘How Come our darling was finally out of the primes iron grip and you were about to have them all to yourself? , i think not’ and with that said a mischievous grin tugs at his lips as he gets closer to you and brings you into his arms.Although they were clones they were all unique versions of Dottore each showed different traits of the prime Dottore , most traits of which you adored, and they were warm just like he is. As you get pulled from the apparent sixth clone you hear him let out a whine of disapproval. You can feel Dottores' breath against your skin as he pulls you in closer , you manage to catch him mumble to himself ‘Oh i have waited too long to hold you like this ,it feels even better than i imagined it to be’. With such an unexpected comment being made you could feel your face getting warmer as you became bashful , in an attempt to ground yourself you lean into Dottore’s chest burying your face into his body. You feel his chest vibrate as he laughs to himself as he muses at how much he finds your peculiar behaviour so amusing, in an endearing way. 

In the comfort of his arms you begin to drift away into sleep , desperately trying to fight it but unfortunately the harder you fight the more exhausted you feel. Soon enough you had completely lost yourself to the land of unconsciousness. By the time you brought yourself back you had no idea how long you had fallen asleep for , you were still within the same dottore clones arms so must have been not that long , right? You pull yourself up and you hear Dottore whisper to you ‘ oh , you're awake , don't worry my love I have kept you safe in my arms whilst you rested’ he left a chaste kiss on your forehead , a symbol of his affection. You smile at this to yourself. However as you move your head up you see that there are many more Dottore’s here looking at you inquisitively. All in varying ages and made within different periods of the doctors research , yet they all share one thing , their affection and love towards you. You manage to break free from the dottore holding you in his arms as you sit up to properly absorb your situation , you are surrounded by different variations of your lover who all yearn for your affection and attention. In a moment of spontaneity you offered the dottres a deal , since you figured they all had jobs to do given to them from the original Dottore. Thus you struck a deal , they shall all go back to work but you’ll give each of them a kiss. As soon as you had uttered those words all the clones enthusiastically lined up in front of you , expectantly waiting for the promised kiss. You couldn't help but smile at the sight.

Just as the first clone leaned down in order for you to be able to smooch them the lab door burst open.

. 

. 

.

.

Silence takes over the hall.

Prime observes his clones all lined up , and as he follows the line it starts with you , just what on earth were his clones plotting whilst he was busy? Then it clicked ‘SCRAM ALL OF YOU , DON'T YOU HAVE WORK I'VE ASSIGNED TO ALL OF YOU ? SHOO , ONLY I'M ENTITLED TO THEIR KISSES , SHOO SHOO GO ON NOW’ his voice booms , bewildered you watched as all the clones leave disappointment and frowns painted in each and everyone one of their faces. You couldn't help but feel just a little bit sorry for them.

[ntls-24722]

I was thinking about @/artastic-friend's tags on my Comet post, and, first off thank you it was really sweet, but I had also realized that I wasn't even on tumblr to show the REEEAAALLY early designs of Comet, so here they are!

Comet had gone through a lot of changes, the most important one being... not looking exactly like DJMM! Comet originally looked exactly like DJMM since a good 80% of her body used to actually be mechanical, and her organism part was... very minimal and degenerate. But I very quickly found that lame - what's the pizzazz in being ~secretly a manmade organism~ if most of you is still mechanical anyway? I found an old picture of her transition from this (i apologize for the low quality, but much of the old sketches are super smudged n junk.) She still had motors and but much more of her internals filled up the plastic exoskeleton's empty space.

A detail i had actually forgotten now that I read back through old messages and pictures is that she used to be compatible with eating/drinking gasoline AND actual food? She had microbes that could eat it in her stomach and then she'd eat THOSE microbes like a cow??? that was kinda sick, past me, good job.

Comet's actual face being striped originated from her bony skeleton being full of bigbig holes (shown below, left) - they were meant to just be the frame for the plastic cover, but when the mechanical parts were taken out the holes condensed into stripes (shown below, right), partially being inspired from this Clownsuu post (AUGH ITS SO COOOOOL)

The 10 eyes thing stuck because it was like... representative of her kids' souls being infused with hers after she unknowingly ingested them after brain surgery?

She didn't like, pick them up and start chowing on her own children like you would with a bunch of dry cereal - in order to make the Comets less resource-needy the Oort Cloud would give some of the remnant they produced back to them? When Comet found out where it came from and where one of her missing kids went, she refused to eat or sleep at all until she almost died of exhaustion and finally went unconcious. The Oort Cloud took advantage of the fact she was finally not resisting and did the surgery as she slept. She didn't remember anything when she woke up and... ate for the first time in awhile not knowing what was in it, or that she even had kids in the first place.

Making the surgery easier is actually why the side of her head in this picture is exposed and Boneless (in some pictures there's actually huge stitches on there, too) but i realized that any behavioral disruptions would be directed to the frontal lobe, and that's why Modern comet actually has this little plate right between her eyes - that plate of exoskeleton is actually slightly loose and you can take it off n put it right back on for the least amount of scarring. It's also why Luz and Zoey don't have it.

For some reason I chose a marching band theme for her, maybe to cover up her skeleton-y Beneathness, and that is what made her into the star-spangled DJMM we know today. I chose a space-y theme since the Plex is.... somewhat space themed? Not entirely sure why but I'm glad I did it. She was intially accented with minty blue rather than the bold one she is now. This is where she also got her name, though it was initially "Comet Music Man."

She used to, temporarily, also have a 4 pairs of antennae coming from her wrists. I took it out cuz i couldn't find a reason for them

Comet wasn't based on any particular spider BUT there was the initial concept of having her be based off of the mirror spider and have a.... disco ball butt (you can kinda see it in the skeleton face pic) But in another universe, She could've been a spiny orb weaver, or a scorpion-tailed spider.

I did sometimes COMPLETELY go south with how her Beneath would look like in favor of a soft, fleshy interior, and I made...this! I hated it and I'm forever glad I didn't decide to go with this! jesus christ!

There were also the origins of the little harpoons - I had a headcanon that DJMM has little pedipalps on the inside of his mouth that looked like little STAFFbot hands and that got integrated with Comet, too

Alsoalso: the Neck

Couldn't figure out how to do it for a long time, since it's long and dragon-y and flexible and curvy, which is why half of it was exposed skin for awhile. In this outdated organ diagram i actually made the neck a bunch of layered "bowls" like one of those rainbow slug toys (not that you can.... see much of it lol) (also old sona jumpscare HOOH)

There's probably more considering Comet is now a year old and also her entire universe and story got REALLY derailed from a oneshot self-insert fic that i never even finished (the contents of which actually are why Comet and Fritz live where they are, in some abandoned factory - it was Fritz and DJMM's hideout) (also, Fritz predates Comet by a lot) because i thought WAYYYYY tooo hard about the implications of DJ Music Man, the giant spider, being alive

("what are you? are you a species or were you created? for what? By who? why are you pretending to be a robot? Are you pretending? What do you eat, and what's feeding you? Do you need to? Why do you have to be alive, and not an animatronic like everything else?) (also technically Bighand is just the alternate and anticlimatic version where he's just like "yeah I'm alive and I just work here") (both leave bc it sucks)

bonus patch notes that I couldn't cover:

neck became attached further up the head instead of below the jaw because keeping it the way it was was... not good

ALL of her became metallic-looking

She went from being a mirror spider to a sparklemuffin spider because of the coincidence that those spiders had the same yellow stripes from their eyes as she does.

The antennae became just 1 pair because the fact she had 2 pairs was also unnecessary

She used to have 2 little flesh strands from her top jaw and bottom jaw. They served no purpose only to get in the way of things so I got rid of them.

Her dewlap used to have music notes, stars, and lines

The tongue went from being thick n long to being flat and rounded. Fits in the mouth better

[ratsoh-writes]

Say hello to hadaltale y’all!!

To explain the name: the hadal zone is areas of the ocean in deep trenches that lie between 6,000 to 11,000 meters.

The hadal monsters as you can expect, are all completely aquatic! After the barrier spell by the mages who tried to trap monsters during the Great War went wrong, the whole planet was flooded. The hadal monsters have only stone tablets as records of this, and they’re very vague. They believe at one point that their people may have been surface dwellers, but those days have long passed

Over time the monsters who survived on ships slowly evolved to better handle an ocean life, becoming stronger swimmers, being able to breathe water, and eventually abandoning ships all together to live in the ocean forever. Hadal monsters became master stone masons, carving into the rock of the ocean floor to make their homes, and taking advantage of deep trenches and cavern systems. To handle the harsh water pressure, these monsters became larger and stronger overtime at the expense of their magical output. Hadal monsters have incredible physical strength and durability, but lower magical output than the majority of surface monsters.

After the crash, the hadal monsters were first discovered by the sea AUs, then the sea monsters bridged the gap between the hadal and surface AUs. Hadal monsters cannot breathe air. But the royals were determined to unite all monsters and the hadal royals agreed easily with this goal. It took five years after the crash, but finally a spell was found that would allow a hadal monster to safely breathe and travel on land for up to three hours at a time. Work is still being done to increase this.

In turn, the second biggest city of ebott, jokingly named Atlantis by Asgore who has no imagination, lies slightly west of seashore. Atlantis is mostly underwater of course. But parts of it are on the surface and the surf on float in buildings. The city is built into the rocky cliffs of ebott, and the hadal monsters have drilled further into the ground for their own living spaces. There’s even a tunnel to waterfall that they created

And now, to introduce the siblings!

Pearl (hadaltale sans)

Technically she was never named “sans”. Pearl was always named Pearl. She’s small for a hadal monster, only six feet long, and her lower half resembles that of an octopus. She’s a skeletal hadal monster aged 50 with a blue magic. She has the third eye characteristic of the royal family. She’s considered absolutely gorgeous by hadal standards because of her smooth tentacles and soft looking face and body.

Pearl is a gentle and affectionate soul. Pearl was raised as royalty and has a strong sense of duty from her upbringing. She has lovely manners. She’s a bit skittish at times though, and has a lot of anxiety over trying new things. She tends to cling to those she deems safe. She has very little experience with the surface

As one of the princes lined up to potentially take their place, pearls duties lie in management. She organizes events for Atlantis, manages finances, and spends a lot of time in the records hall. She has a reputation among the hadal princes for hosting the best meetings due to her budgeting skills

Hadal monsters didn’t summon weapons normally until it became part of ebotts curriculum. Pearl missed this part of her education and never learned to make one, nor does she care to

Pearls special ability is cloaking! She can change the color of her bones and tail to match the colors of whatever behind her. Unfortunately her eyes do not change with the rest of her

Things she loves: seashell accessories! Head wrappings, any sort of hat really, she has a collection. Fine jewelry, swing music, black and white movies, fancy chocolates, chicken nuggets, watching races and jousts, stargazing, floral and coral arrangements, interior design, the color coral pink, lily pad flowers

Silex (hadaltale papyrus)

Technically not a papyrus, as his name was always silex. Silex is a hadal monster aged 44 and 7’3 feet long. His lower half resembles a spiny eel with lovely sea green ecto to match his eyes. He has the third eye characteristic of the royal family.

Silex is a confident monster. He’s quite outgoing and friendly, making him a natural leader in any friend group. He has an eye for the shy weak ones in the group and tends to focus on them. He has a strong sense of duty being raised in the royal family. He can be overconfident at times though, believing he can achieve unrealistic goals, and his family often has to being him back down to earth.

As one of the princes lined up to potentially take his parents place, silex’s duties lie mostly in management. He has a good eye for people and is often in charge of hiring and managing the employees of Atlantis’ court as well as managing their work. He is also often taken to business deals.

Despite being aged out by the time magic weapons were made a requirement for graduates, silex still learned to make one. His weapon is a long rapier. It’s a sleek and simple weapon. He wants to add more to it someday though

Silex’s special ability is electricity! When grabbed, he can produce electric currents around his body injuring and scaring off would be foes! Thankfully the electricity doesn’t seem to travel far, shocking every one else around him. He has very good control of his magic

Things he loves: the color silver, interesting metal weapons, racing and jousts, surfing, exploring the surface, sushi, HARD LIQUOR, watching spars on TV, jasmines, not wearing clothes, electro swing

Side characters

Titanic: hadal Asgore, titanic is the father of Pearl and silex and the main royal of the hadal. Titanic was the driving force between uniting his monsters and the surface and encourages his people all the time to reach out and explore. He’s a very curious and passionate monster with a love for all things new

Olympia: hadal toriel, the mother of Pearl and silex and the monster who fathered them. Olympia is the second royal of the hadal monsters and is an affectionate but proud character. She agrees with titanics desire to combine their people with the surface dwellers but is more cautious than him. She will integrate as long as she’s convinced her people benefit from each deal.

Voyager: hadal gaster, the second father of Pearl and silex, voyager is the mate of titanic and Olympia, and first in line to replace one as a royal if anything had ever happens. Voyager was the parent to carry Pearl and silex of course, and has a very close relationship with the two as well as his other kids. Voyager is a reserved but highly intelligent monster, and was the one who discovered a way to safely bring power to the areas of Atlantis beneath the surface. He always jokingly laments that none of his kids enjoy science the way he does

And the siblings in order from oldest to youngest

Angler (goat): aged 140, angler is the oldest prince and the first child of the royal trio. She was carried by voyager and fathered by Olympia. Angler is a strong aggressive but loyal monster with a tail resembling that of an angler fish.

Pacific (skeleton): aged 122, pacific is the second child of the trio, carried by Olympia and fathered by voyager. Pacific is an elegant monster with a taste for drama. He’s clever and known for catching people in lies. His tail resembles that of an orca

Bermuda (goat) aged 80, Bermuda is the third child of the trio, carried by titanic and fathered by Olympia. Bermuda is… eccentric. He’s a wild card who can’t be predicted, but he loves his family so no one worries too hard. He works closely with the navy. His lower half resembles a blue finned shark

Pearl, fathered by Olympia, carried by voyager

Silax, fathered by Olympia, carried by voyager

Atlantis (goat), aged 2 and named after the city in ebott, Atlantis is the newest member of the royal family. She was fathered by titanic and carried by Olympia. She’s a bouncy and giggly toddler with a big fascination for hot wheels. Her tail resembles a spiny pufferfish

[defectivegembrain]

Tell your favorite and least favorite episode of community and why? If you want. No pressure.

Ooh yes I do want to thanks :D

I have two favourite episodes actually, for very different reasons:

My favourite for comedic reasons is Conspiracy Theories and Interior Design. It's just so silly and good for relaxing tbh because the drama is too silly to get upset about! Professor Professorson gets me every time lol 😂 Also, Troy and Abed get to have such a nice time ^_^

My favourite for more personal emotional reasons is Virtual Systems Analysis. It's an amazing exploration of autistic loneliness and alienation. Which also makes it hard to watch of course, but yeah. Have to be in the right frame of mind to actually watch it, but it is very dear to me.

My least favourite episode is Bondage and Beta Male Sexuality, because of Hickey being so awful to Abed, and the narrative feeling like it excuses and even supports him to a certain extent. It's treated like a two way altercation with equal amounts of wrong done, when it is in fact Abed making an honest mistake and being held captive by a guy with quite a lot of power over him! I'm also not really a fan of the stuff with Duncan, I don't think it's funny when he's creepy to Britta, and it felt kinda like we were supposed to think it was sweet or whatever when he ultimately didn't take advantage of her. Like, congratulations on basic human decency. I do remember enjoying Chang's plot in that episode though, but not worth it.

[intolunarorbit]

About that spiral staircase myth

I saw a post on tumblr yesterday about the common misconception that medieval staircases spiral clockwise so that an attacker going up the stairs will have less space to swing their weapon due to the central pillar. I responded clarifying that this (very likely) was not the case but was asked to make a standalone post on it so this is that post (I'm also changing some information because I also got some details wrong in that response)

Disclaimer: I'm not a historian, my knowledge on the subject is based off of a blog post and my knowledge of medieval warfare from my high school history course on the Wars of the Roses and going to several castles. I'm primarily talking about castles in England and Wales but the things I'm saying are largely true throughout medieval Europe and I encourage people to give examples from other countries in the notes!

Firstly medieval staircases do NOT universally spiral clockwise, if it did provide a massive defensive boost then all spiral staircases would be clockwise. While the trend is for clockwise spirals, it's nowhere near universal (only about 70%), with several castles (such as caerphilly castle and the white tower in london) having both clockwise and counterclockwise. The spiral staircases were also not the only set of stairs in most castles, with them having internal stairs which were straight - or at least not as curved as spiral staircases. The purpose of the spiral staircase was mostly to get soldiers and supplies to and from the battlements; a potential attacker would be more likely to use the non-spiral staircases since they would be easier to climb

From a hand-to-hand combat perspective, the clockwise spiral staircase does not provide the defender with an advantage in combat. In melee combat the high ground is disadvantageous: you can reach much further up than you can down, and reaching down requires bending over, which in plate armour could risk your balance and would definitely make your head more exposed to attack. The placement of the walls and pillars also makes no difference, spiral staircases were either very spacious (such as in Colchester castle where the staircase's diameter was 5 metres (16ft)) which means there is very little concern for the walls or pillar while fighting, or very narrow (like the great tower of Goorich castle with only a diameter of 70cm (2.5ft)) where both parties will have to worry about hitting the wall or pillar either during the swing or recovery from it.

Most importantly, however is the fact that in the medieval period, knights did not fight within castles, and castles were not built with the expectation of knights fighting within them, with some castles even being built with no siege-readiness at all. In the next paragraph I will be talking purely about castles which were designed to be defended (such as a lot of the castles built during the conquest of Wales) but do note that a lot of them were not and were designed to house local nobility or for a government purpose like a courthouse or a prison.

A castle's role in combat was to be a safe place for an army to rest and re-supply, and typically if there was an attacking army approaching the castle the defenders would leave the castle and fight them head on in pitched combat. If they did not there would be a siege, where the attackers cut off the supply line to the castle and wait for either the defenders to surrender (due to starvation or negotiation), or for the defences to be breached with a siege weapon or through sabotage. Once attackers are within the castle the battle has been lost for the defenders as their defences are overrun. So this is why the interiors of castles were not designed to be defendable, as it's a futile effort.

And finally to talk about the history of the claim: no medieval sources have said that they did clockwise spirals for this purpose. To be fair this is largely because the people who built and designed castles typically could not read or write, but the point still stands that the claim that the spiral staircases were clockwise for this purpose is not supported by history. The earliest written example of this is in a 1902 architecture history book by Theodore Cook. Cook, being interested in fencing, saw clockwise spiral staircases and observed that it would be difficult to fence when going upstairs in a clockwise spiral, and concluded that this is why medieval castles use them.

This is part of the trend of Victorian historians asserting their assumptions of history as fact (as well as inventing facts of their own to add to the spectacle or intrigue of the past - you have them to thank for the myth that Vikings had horned helmets and that Columbus was trying to disprove that the earth was flat, not even beginning to touch on their views towards non-white culture and history), as well as the military-first view of castle designs. This myth has largely stuck around since there's very little evidence to propose an alternate reason for the particular direction of spiral staircases (as an aside: my personal assumption is that they made the staircases go in whatever direction made it best line up with the floors of the castle).

In summary, since spiral staircases aren't universally clockwise, are impractical to fight on for the defenders as well as the attackers, and would not have been fought on anyways due to the nature of castle warfare, the consensus is that spiral staircases did not spiral clockwise in order to give defenders an advantage.

[liyawritesss]

ɪɴꜱᴏᴍɴɪᴀᴄ!ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀᴍᴀɴ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

Characters: Peter Parker, Mary-Jane “MJ” Watson, Harry Osborn, Miles Morales

Type: Headcanons

Synopsis: General headcanons for the main protagonists of Insomniac’s Spider Man 2 on PS5.

Warnings: probs some cursing somewhere, and ofc spoilers for the spiderman 2 game! You’ve been warned!!!

A/N: This game is definitely up there as one of the best games I’ve seen/played in 2023, so it wouldn’t be right for me to go into 2024 and still not have much written for it; so I’m correcting that! Take this as a spoiler for those who have not finished playing the game/watching a full gameplay of it to the end.

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @marsfunzon22 @briology @honeybleed @romiantic @onlyperc @starsoirees @yasminisbroke @asensitivecookie @kdyance @sussybaka10 @famedrs-blog @milesismyhubby @foreclosure--of--a--dream @ykimobessed @soilmayo

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Peter Parker

Oh poor Peter, he’s just got so much going on. With Aunt May and the house, him tryna find a stable job, his relationship with MJ, and now prioritizing his friendship with Harry, he’s being pulled in so many different directions it’s honestly dizzying!

There’s so much going on in his life that I wouldn’t be too surprised if he developed some anxiety around it. Like we know Peter for being this quirky, goofy kid who’s got hella jokes and can rock your ass in a science test, but when he’s alone, the turbulence of his life gets to him a little. And it’s not like he can let anyone really know - he’s Spiderman for crying out loud! If he goes down, who knows how the rest will take it.

And of course the Venom Symbiote doesn't make things any better - Pete’s whole acting like an ass thing wasn’t intentional by no means necessary, but I think that would also play into his anxiety as well. He doesn’t want to ever hurt his friends the way he did with that symbiote in him - they’re the last thing he has.

On a completely not depressing note, I feel like having the house to himself gives Peter the opportunity to really figure out his own aesthetic. Sure, he’s the cute nerdy heartthrob guy, but he wants to expand himself! I feel like he wouldn’t be into the super modern high tech home decor that’s been sweeping through every interior designers palette - I see him as a mix of warm country house vibes (courtesy of Aunt May), with a hint of the technological advantages that he’d implement into certain appliances and spaces (*coughcough* at home lab *coughcough*) and a finishing touch of midcentury modern for a pop of color….it won’t stop him from being a bit of a slob though unfortunately.

Mary-Jane “MJ” Watson

If i were her I’d be one critique away from giving Mr. J.J.Jameson a taste of his own desk, because oh my god the self-centeredness he possesses makes me want to vomit. But it’s a good thing I’m not, and our darling redhead angel has enough patience to deal with him for the sake of a bag - I applaud her for that.

I know a lot of people don’t like the MJ segments in the game but i actually appreciate them! Shows that she’s not just a pretty face that Pete falls in love with you know? And I like to think she actually likes the moments she gets to take down the Hunters because it makes her feel like a badass - which she totally is!

As a destresser from being a prime member of the Spider Team (yes, I’m claiming them as the Spider Team since Spider Squad is already taken) and her journalism job, I’d like to think she’s into something so niche like jewelry making - specifically little charm bracelets that she gifts to the others. Yknow, on some ‘friendship lasts forever’ type shit.

Also in her freetime she has writing projects on the side that she wouldn’t consider viable enough to send in as a story, but just fun little stories she’ll write for the hell of it. There’s nothing too specific about them, but they also serve as a way to track how her writing is progressing, and she’s in a group of beta readers of sorts that give her feedback on how much better she’s getting.

Another poor boy that just has way too much on his hands, good lord. Granted, I never saw the hype around Harry, but I think after this adaptation of him I might be warming up to him a little bit.

Harry Osborn

Getting on the bandwagon of adopting new hobbies, I see Harry as getting into drawing, especially during the period in which he doesn’t have the suit. Since his health is deteriorating and he isn’t able to be as mobile as he would like, he needs something to keep his mind and hands busy. And drawing does the trick for him. He starts off with just basic drawings like items in his room, but he advances very quickly and starts drawing portraits of himself and MJ, who spends a lot of time taking care of him. He symbalso sketches a picture of him and Peter when they were in highschool over and over again, especially when he runs out of muses.

Harry also spends a lot of his time thinking. Thinking about his life thus far, his friends, the legacy he wants to leave behind. He doesn’t just want his last name attached to something to make it great - he wants to earn his keep and his place in society. It was the whole reason he started the Emily-May Foundation; it would have been his mark on the world, and yet, here he was, tied down to his bed once again. Then again, who knows if the symbiote would have done the same to himself, had he let his own convictions get too far?

Considering what happens at the end of the game, though, I suppose we won’t ever know…until the next installment that is.

Miles Morales

Why are there so many poor boys in this game? Like I got enough sympathy to go around but Jesus save these guys!!!

He is a HEAVY romantic, especially when it comes to Hailey (so so SO happy he got his girl in the end was rooting for them so hard in his game). He plans their dates according to the mode and vibe of the day, whatever the two are feeling, whatever is mentioned in fleeting conversations, etc. He’s in love and proud of it!

He’s getting better at dividing up the attention to the important people in his life, as well as school and his Spiderman duties. Sundays are for him and his mom to lounge in their pajamas and catch up with each other on the weeks events; he hangs with Ganke throughout the week and sometimes goes out with him to science expo’s every now and then. He’ll pop up on Hailey whenever she’s in the neighborhood and just sits and chills with her (and if she’s working on a street piece, even better! He’s her no. 1 supporter!)

He, Peter and Ganke get into rubix cubes competitions to see who can complete the rubix cube the fastest. Right now Ganke is ranked number one and Peter and Miles are tied for second place, but they’re getting another, more difficult cube to compete again soon.

He’s got a big heart, and knowing the effects of everything that’s happened with Harry, Miles makes it a point to check in with Peter every now and then. He’s lowkey worried that if the older Spiderman’s worry for his best friend doesn’t do him in, then somehow the effects of the Venom symbiote on Peter’s psyche will turn him cold again, and that doesn’t end well at all. He does this well with MJ, and they talk frequently on how they can be better support for Pete and Harry in the aftermath of everything that’s happened.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

[wist-eri]

an entire blog post dedicated to Haru Allegro, her forte, and her dynamics with the rest of the NDA cast

will contain implied spoilers for the main game. hopefully nothing that’s too spoiler-y though, so read at your own risk i guess??

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how Haru’s forte works:

as i’ve disclosed before, Haru’s forte is soundproofing. meaning, she can select a space and configure it so:

anyone outside of that space would not be able to hear anything within that space, or:

anyone inside of that space would not be able to hear anything outside that space

or both.

in visuals, it looks like a faint, glowing line that either hovers around the space where her forte is activated, or makes a line around the interior of a room where her forte is activated. depends on what space she uses.

the line vanishes after a few seconds. when deactivating, it reappears again only to “break away” and fade out.

other than that, it’s pretty straightforward.

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Haru doesn’t have many opportunities to use her forte in an investigation setting; technically, she could use it for stealth or for eavesdropping, but those are for very rare cases.

which actually leads me into my next point: her main job is freelance arbitration. she really only takes cases if the WDO assigns them to her. though, with the assistance of her forte and her general expertise in negotiation, she’s very talented at her job and has gained a lot of recognition within the field.

not only that, if she’s genuinely investigating a case, she can sometimes take advantage of her connections to gather more information.

————————

alright, now that i have that set aside, here’s her dynamic with each individual member of the NDA:

Yuma Kokohead - they’re on good terms with each other, and are always willing to [talk to / exchange information with] each other on a daily basis. Haru finds herself surprised by Yuma a couple of times, both with his amount of intelligence and how often he gets into trouble. like, how.

while Yakou tells Yuma the most about Amaterasu Corporation, Haru is the one that provides the most information / background context about the WDO. interestingly enough, she seems to know more about the inner workings of the organization than the average member—for example, the process for scouting other detectives, the examinations during the training period, and much more.

though for some reason, Haru has never disclosed any information about her personal experience with the WDO—especially how she got recruited. but that should be the least of our worries, we have Kanai Ward’s greatest mystery to solve!

fun fact: Haru has tried to assist Yuma with his (disastrous) cooking once. But after realizing the only thing she could really help with was telling him when a shrimp was perfectly cooked, she decided to not get into that territory again. it’s not even like she likes shrimp that much; why is it the only thing she can work with, though? some sort of curse? (/j)

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Fubuki Clockford: at first, Haru was a little worried since Fubuki seemed a little naive and almost too optimistic to be a detective. however, she slowly turned to appreciating this optimism; it was definitely a nice turn from the professional atmosphere that naturally comes with her arbitration work.

meanwhile, Fubuki has somewhat designated Haru as her “detective-adventuring sidekick,” and often takes her on random trips around the city. though Haru usually has no idea where the hell Fubuki is about to take her, she ends up going anyways. besides, she honestly likes Kanai Ward’s scenery; it wouldn’t hurt to see it.

fun fact: Fubuki will end up saving Haru’s life at one point. :)

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Vivia Twilight: really not much to say here as it’s basically just Vivia being Vivia™️ and Haru being Haru™️. but it’s safe to say they definitely don’t mind each other’s presence. Haru surprisingly appreciates the aura of calm that Vivia gives off, and sometimes just sits close by if they find each other alone in the agency. on the other hand, Vivia finds Haru a bit chaotic at times (especially with a character i’ll be getting to in a few moments), but personally doesn’t mind it too much, thinking of it as an added accent to the “peace and quiet” of the NDA.

also, Haru sometimes understands Vivia’s metaphors. they seem to be very specific ones though

fun fact: Vivia once saw Haru dying her hair while in spectral projection form, and dropped in a hint about it when they were talking about a case later that day. Haru got really defensive about it for some reason

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Halara Nightmare: Haru was slightly intimidated by Halara upon introduction; to her, they seemed to be a “no-nonsense” type person (though not like she hasn’t worked with those types of people before). but over a few days, Haru begins to notice their level of sympathy and care for others, which changes her opinion of them. meanwhile, Halara finds Haru a bit dense at times—but is always surprised by how quickly she pieces certain methods/tricks together the moment she clears her original misconceptions. though, Haru’s still slightly trailing behind Halara in her processing speed.

(yakou’s probably even further behind somewhere in the back /j)

fun fact: one time, Halara asked for a relatively large sum of money for one menial task (probably like 20k shien) when they were solving a case together, and Haru almost paid on the spot as if it was nothing. Halara was taken back for a moment, especially since Haru seemed so nonchalant about it (she wasn’t). eventually they sighed and gave Haru a 75% discount.

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Desuhiko Thunderbolt: okay, this is their entire dynamic:

story over. thank you for coming to my tedtalk

but yeah—Desuhiko and Haru have unrivaled amounts of “argumentative sibling” energy towards each other. in this storyline i decided to tone down Desuhiko’s behavior towards women a tiny bit, in exchange for upgrading his superstar complex—which worked perfectly. Desuhiko grabs at any attempt to pull out his electric bass and start playing, but Haru has to mute him to prevent him from blasting music throughout the entire agency.

they constantly banter any time they’re in the same space. Desuhiko is often the first to begin raising his voice during their arguments. but it takes a while for Haru to get to that point; she often sticks to small (and very blunt) retorts for most of the time. at times, their arguments escalate to full-on competitions—though surprisingly, both of them are relatively smart and don’t do anything that would cause serious harm.

but past their argumentative banter, Desuhiko and Haru are actually the closest compared to the other pairings i talked about. one is usually the first to notice when the other seems off.

(this may be foreshadowing)

and as the narrative develops, we see the bond between them strengthen (though they still won’t stop arguing). if the game were in japanese Desuhiko would start calling Haru “aibou” (which is partner,, but like,, with a more familial connotation in some contexts??) by the end of the story. but they still won’t stop arguing :)

fun fact: Haru actually still keeps one of Desuhiko’s voice changers after they had an entire unhinged competition about “who can act like Yakou in front of Yuma for longer” (which stemmed from an entire conversation between the two that i may talk about at one point 😭). she uses it to scare Desuhiko from time to time

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okay, finally:

Yakou Furio: despite being “superior” and “subordinate” in work terms, they seem to be pretty close with each other (in more of a familial context). at first, Haru genuinely wonders how the hell this guy got certified by the WDO, but soon notices his emotional intelligence / empathy and goes “oh. yeah that makes sense” (even when it comes to Haru, who’s a talented negotiator and supposedly knows how to act in a way that satisfies both parties, it’s hard to really grip that emotional aspect for her and being able to understand how others truly feel. Yakou does this as if it’s second nature; which is quite unique for a detective and something Haru really appreciates). (i have evidence for this. i swear)

Haru sometimes works at the agency until late with Yakou (+ other coworkers); and after a long day, sometimes they all just throw everything and head to the bar together.

though, the outing is really just a few hours of Yakou complaining about his subordinates while drunk.

she can still tell that Yakou really cares about the other detectives, though. i mean, although she doesn’t actually listen to his advice and goes on to directly run into the Peacekeepers regardless, the chief has assisted Haru in more ways than one.

fun fact: Yakou is somewhat confused with Haru’s food preference, especially with how much it contrasts with her appearance. in fact, they had an entire moment where Haru admitted she didn’t like meat buns in general because the buns were always too sweet for her and Yakou was just like “????? what is going on with your tongue”

• • •

also, another fun fact.

…they’re narrative foils.

——————

oh my god that was a lot of info. whoops. sorry

but yeah uhhh that’s it from me for now—my inbox is open if you want to ask and/or theorize about her 🫠