#Scripting Mastery

[seuncreative]

Elevate Your Python Skills in Development, Coding, and Scripting

Python, with its simplicity and versatility, stands as a powerful language capable of crafting sophisticated applications, automating tasks with finesse, and scripting ingenious solutions across various domains. Elevate Your Python Skills in Development, Coding, and Scripting is not just a guide; it's your passport to mastering the art of Python programming.

Python isn't just a language—it's a canvas on which you'll paint elegant applications, whether it's web development, game creation, data analysis, or software engineering.

Elevating Your Python Skills ventures into the realm of scripting, where you'll discover the art of automating tasks, orchestrating processes, and managing systems seamlessly. Imagine crafting scripts that save time, effort, and elevate efficiency to new heights.

However, Elevating Your Python Skills isn't just about syntax; it's about cultivating a mindset—an approach that fosters innovation, problem-solving, and a pursuit of excellence. It's about empowering you to write code that not only functions flawlessly but does so with elegance and clarity.

So, are you ready to embark on this journey? Elevate Your Python Skills in Development, Coding, and Scripting awaits, poised to unveil the secrets, unravel the mysteries, and transform you into a Python virtuoso.

Learn how here

[scriptistired]

yo

*from val's mod page thingy

ive been staring the two since updating stuff like that one imagine wait lemme find it

this.

[tanlorin]

me speccing val into herald of the tome (arcanist) + assassination (nightblade) both bc they're the meta dps skill lines now And bc i can see it still being lore friendly for them

[loregoddess]

back on my nonsense (I'm replaying Three Hopes)

[daggerfall]

SUBCLASSING CONFIRMED IN ESO

What we know (pre-PTS)

You need to be level 50 to unlock it

Skills cost 2 skill points instead of 1, and level slower

Leveling progress is saved account wide

You must have access to the class you want (necromancer, arcanist, warden, which are/were DLC, require the DLC to subclass into)

If you already have a character that's fully leveled and of the class you want to subclass into (you're a sorc and have a templar alt, and want to subclass templar), you just have to level the skills. If you don't have a character of that class (never leveled a templar), you can do a quest to unlock leveling for that subclass, rather than needing to fully level an alt to unlock that subclass.

You must keep at least one skill line from your base class

You can only take one skill line from a specific class (ie you can be a warden at base, and take a templar and dragonknight skill line, but not 2 templar skill lines)

Passives work as stated. If they buff only skills from that skill line, then that's how it works. If it says it buffs class skills in general, it includes All class skills.

Class mastery scripts and infinite archive sets are set to your base class

The armory saves your selections

You can swap skill lines in the standard respec shrine/scroll method

[insidekatmind]

Not just acting~Park Hae-soo

Wearning: +18,smut,age-gap

Request: yes!

The film set was lit by soft lights, a perfect contrast between the elegance of the club and the murky atmosphere that the scene was supposed to evoke. You were sitting in front of the dressing room mirror, while the makeup artist adjusted the last details: sinfully red lips, long and provocative eyelashes. You were wearing a black lace corset that enhanced your curves, transparent tights and vertiginous heels. On top of your head, a hair clip with rabbit ears completed the showgirl look.

It was the crucial scene of the film: you had to dance on him, provoke him, get close until you touched him, while he, the unscrupulous tycoon that Park Hae Soo played with mastery, had to remain impassive, in a game of seduction and power. You were 24 years old, young and hungry for success, while he, at 43, was an experienced actor, used to maintaining control in every situation. Or at least that's what you thought.

When the director called for action, music filled the club. Your body moved with confidence, sinuous, perfect for the role. Your hips swayed as you approached the couch where he sat with a glass of whiskey in his hand. His gaze was fixed on you, and even though you knew he was acting, there was something in his eyes that seemed real.

You sat astride his legs, your hands sliding up his silk jacket. He remained still, but his breathing grew ever so slightly heavier. You felt his tension beneath you, the way his body responded, barely perceptible, but there. Your movements grew bolder: a rotation of your hips, your lips close to his ear as you whispered the scripted line. And then you felt his hand, which should have remained limp, tighten momentarily on your thigh, a gesture imperceptible to the camera, but one you could feel distinctly.

Your heart pounded in your chest. Was it just acting? Or was the line between fiction and reality dissolving in that moment? You looked into his eyes, finding something deeper than a simple role. A hidden desire, perhaps, or just an illusion born from the fire of the scene.

You continued to grind against him, dancing sensually, just like the script said. He remained stoically in character, his piercing gaze fixed on you, his hand still on your thigh. However, his composure was faltering. The rhythm of his breathing was heavier, more erratic, betraying the growing tension within him. Every move you made, every whisper of your voice seemed to tighten a coil inside him, slowly unraveling the control he so carefully maintained. Your body heat against his was like an intoxicating fire, and he had to concentrate all his strength to keep his character from breaking.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Your hips rocked against him, and he could feel the fabric of his pants growing tighter with each movement. His grip on your thigh tightened further, his fingers digging into your flesh. He was struggling to maintain the act, to keep himself from giving in to the overwhelming sensations that coursed through him. But it was getting harder and harder with each second that passed.

Your fingers traced a path down his chest, finding the edge of his shirt. Despite the strict instructions to maintain the scripted gestures, the need to feel his skin grew stronger with each beat of the music. You wanted, no, needed, to test the limits of this role.

His gaze darkened and he leaned in, his breath hot against your cheek, his words low and urgent. "You're playing a dangerous game," he murmured, trying to maintain the authority of his character, but the trembling of his voice betrayed his internal struggle.

His hand slid higher, his fingers tracing patterns along the edge of your corset, the touch almost searing against your bare skin. The fabric of his pants was strained tight now, the evidence of his desire for you unmistakably apparent.

"You shouldn't test me," he warned, his voice gravelly and low, the words torn from his throat.He could feel your skin against his fingers, the soft lace of your corset giving way to his touch. He wanted to push you back, to pin you against the couch and take what he needed, but he resisted, fighting against his own desires.

He looked into your eyes, seeing the desire mirrored there. It was a challenge, a test of his self-control. But he couldn't resist any longer. He moved his hand to the small of your back, pulling you closer, until your chests were pressed together.

His arm wrapped around your waist, his hand resting on the bare skin exposed by the corset, the touch electric. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart thudding against your chest, his breath ragged against your neck.

He leaned in, his lips mere inches from your ear, his voice a husky whisper filled with both command and need. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

You continued to grind against him, as write in the script, and kissed his jaw.

He swallowed back a moan, his fingers digging deep into the flesh of your hips, guiding your movements. The edge of his composure was unraveling, every touch of your lips and the rhythm of your body against his taking him to the brink.

He leaned his head back against the couch, exposing the column of his neck, an invitation and a surrender.

He was losing the battle, the feel of your body against his, the way you moved with such grace and sensuality was driving him wild. His eyes closed again, and he let out a low growl, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulled you even closer.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring the curves and valleys of your form, as if committing them to memory. He was desperate, his touch growing more and more unrestrained with every passing second.

His lips found yours again, claiming your mouth in a fierce, greedy kiss, his tongue demanding entrance and exploring the depths of your mouth with an intensity that bordered on possessive.

Your kisses were like a drug, and he was addicted. He moaned against your lips, his hands moving up to tangle in your hair, holding you close as he devoured you. His body was on fire, every nerve ending ablaze with desire.

He broke the kiss only to trail kisses down your neck, nibbling and sucking on your skin, marking you as his. He wanted everyone to know that you were his, that you belonged to him.

You arched your back, a moan escaping your lips as his mouth traveled down your neck and to your collarbone, his teeth raking over your skin. He was marking you, claiming you in the most primal way possible, and you couldn't deny that it made you weak in the knees.

His hands roamed over your body, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He was everywhere, surrounding you, consuming you.

The director yelled "Cut!", but it took a moment for both of you to move away from each other.

You pulled away from him, still panting, your body trembling from the intensity of the scene. The room was thick with desire, and you could feel the heat radiating from both of your bodies.

He looked at you, his gaze still darkened with desire, but also with a hint of something else. A flicker of confusion, perhaps, or regret. He couldn't deny that the line between acting and reality had blurred in that moment.

He sat there, still breathing heavily, his eyes locked on yours. He knew what he had done, what he had let himself do. The way you looked at him, the way you felt against him, it was all too real. He could still feel the ghost of your lips on his, the way your body had moved against his.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to regain some semblance of composure. But it was no use. He knew that he couldn't go back to being just colleagues after this. Something had changed, and it was his own fault.

The crew were busy moving equipment around, discussing the next scene, oblivious to what had just played out.

You and him were left sitting there, both of you trying to collect yourselves.

His mind was in turmoil, the memory of your body pressed against his, the way you had moved, it was etched in his mind. He couldn't ignore the attraction, the spark that had ignited during the scene.

He glanced at you, noticing the way you avoided his gaze. He knew you were thinking about it too, the way your bodies had responded to each other, the intensity of the moment.

He leaned back against the couch, trying to steady his breathing, but it was no use. He could still feel your touch on his skin, your taste on his lips. It was driving him mad.

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence between you. "We need to talk," he said, his voice rough and low.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice, low and serious. You had been trying to avoid him, trying to ignore the way your body had responded to him, the way your mind kept replaying the scene over and over.

You looked at him, your own voice barely above a whisper. "What is there to talk about?"

He met your gaze, his eyes locking with yours. He could see the tension in your eyes, the same mix of desire and uncertainty that he was feeling.

"Everything," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "The scene, what happened between us, it's not just acting anymore."

He ran a hand through his hair again, frustration etched on his face. "We can't ignore it. We can't just go back to being colleagues."

You couldn't deny the truth in his words. The scene had been intense, the line between acting and reality had blurred in a way you never thought possible. You could still feel the heat of his touch, the way his body had responded to yours.

You sighed, looking away from him, avoiding his gaze. "What do you expect us to do about it?"

He watched you sigh, and his gaze darkened even more. The sight of you trying to avoid him was like a punch to the gut. He wanted to pull you closer, to make you look at him, to make you understand how he felt.

He shifted on the couch, moving closer to you, his eyes never leaving your face. "I want you," he admitted, his voice low and raw.

Your breath caught in your throat, his words hitting you like a ton of bricks. You had been trying to deny it, to ignore the way his gaze made you feel, the way your body responded to him. But hearing him say it, admitting it out loud, it was like a spell had been broken.

You looked at him, your own desire mirrored in your eyes. "I want you too," you admitted, your voice soft but firm.

He felt a surge of satisfaction at your admission, but it was quickly replaced by a wave of desire. Hearing you say it, seeing the way your eyes darkened with desire, it was too much.

He moved closer still, his body now only inches away from yours. He reached out and cupped your cheek, his touch gentle yet possessive.

Your eyes fluttered closed at his touch, the heat of his hand on your cheek sending a shiver down your spine. You leaned into his touch, your body moving instinctively closer to him.

You could feel his breath on your skin, ragged and uneven, the tension between you almost palpable. You wanted him, craved him in a way you had never experienced before.

He groaned as your lips meet his, the contact like a spark that ignites an explosion. His hands roaming over your body, his touch possessive.

You feel him kiss you hard, his body pressing against yours, his need for you obvious. His tongue slips between your lips, exploring your mouth with a hungry intensity that takes your breath away.

The kiss is like a floodgate opening, and he can't hold back any longer. He pins you against the couch, his body covering yours as he kisses you fiercely.

His hands roam over your body, touching and caressing every inch of you, as if trying to map every curve and line. He breaks the kiss only to trail kisses down your neck, nibbling and sucking on your skin, marking you as his.

"You so fucking hot" he mutters against your skin, his voice hoarse with desire.

You gasp as he pins you against the couch, your body arching against his. His touch feels like fire against your skin, and you can feel your body responding to him, heat pooling between your thighs.

You moan as he kisses your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin, leaving a trail of marks. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, your own desire surging through you.

You manage to speak, your voice ragged with need, "I need you. Now."

He shivers at your words, the need in your voice like a punch to the gut. He pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes dark with desire.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he says, his voice rough and ragged.

He lifts you effortlessly, his arms wrapped around your thighs as he lifts you up and carries you towards the dressing room. The door closes behind him with a click, and he sets you down on the table, standing between your legs.

His body is pressed against yours, his hands roaming over your thighs, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You can feel his hardness against you, and it's almost too much to bear.

You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him closer, needing to feel him against you, inside you. He leans in to kiss you again, his lips hot and desperate against yours.

"You're driving me insane," he mutters against your mouth, his hands sliding up under your skirt.

You shiver at the intensity of his gaze, his words like a caress against your skin. You reach for him, pulling him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him against you.

He lets you pull him closer, his body flush against yours. He captures your lips in another kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he presses you down onto the table.

His hands move up to your hips, holding you in place as he grinds against you, his hardness against your core sending waves of pleasure through you.

He breaks the kiss to trail kisses down your neck again, his lips moving lower, down to your collarbone.

"Fuck me, please" you whispered desperately. His eyes darken at your words, and he lets out a low growl. He lifts your hips up, and in one fluid motion, he pulls your skirt up, exposing you completely.

He leans in to kiss you again, his lips trailing down your chest, stopping at the swell of your breasts. He nips and sucks on the sensitive skin there, marking you even more.

"As you wish," he whispers against your skin.

He moves down your body, his lips leaving a trail of kisses and bites in their wake. He reaches your hip, and he nips at the skin there, before sucking on it hard enough to leave a mark.

He moves lower still, his hands sliding up your thighs, parting them wider. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire and anticipation.

"You're so wet for me already," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin.

His words send a jolt of pleasure through you, your body arching involuntarily towards him. You feel him grinning against your skin, his satisfaction at your reaction obvious.

"You like that, don't you?" he says, his voice low and rough.

You're unable to respond, your mind and body consumed by the sensations he's stirring within you.

He chuckles at your inability to respond, his fingers tracing patterns on your inner thighs.

"You're so responsive," he says, his voice a low rumble. "It's like you were made for me."

He moves closer, his breath hot against your core. He looks up at you again, his eyes full of desire and a hint of possessiveness.

"And you're all mine," he adds, before diving in, his tongue flicking out to taste you.

His words send a shiver through you, and you can't help but moan, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily.

As his tongue touches you, your body bucks beneath him, the sensation overwhelming. You'd never felt anything like it before, the hot, wet velvet of his tongue working magic on your body.

You reach down, your hands tangling in his hair, your fingers gripping it tightly. "Oh god, please," you beg.

He groans at the feel of your hands in his hair, and it only fuels his desire even more.

He wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you in place as he continues to feast on you. His tongue explores every inch of you, learning your taste, memorizing the way you respond to him.

"You taste so good," he mutters between licks and kisses. "So sweet, so perfect."

He looks up at you again, his eyes dark and hungry. "You're so close, aren't you?" he asks, his voice a low growl.

Your body is on fire, your nerves singing with pleasure, and you're finding it harder and harder to think coherently.

You nod, unable to form words, your body trembling with the effort to hold on. You're right on the edge, but you can't seem to push yourself over it.

You manage to gasp out a plea, your voice strained, "Please, I need...more."

He smirks at your desperation, his ego inflating at the sound of your plea.

"More, huh?" he says, his voice low and filled with amusement.

He continues to tease you, licking and sucking at your clit, before dipping his tongue inside you. He moves slowly, deliberately, drawing out your pleasure until you're on the verge of breaking.

He looks up at you again, his eyes dark with lust. "Beg for it," he commands. "Beg me to make you come."

You're a mess beneath him, your body writhing with need, and you know you'd do anything to find release.

You look down at him, your eyes dark with desire, and you manage to gasp out a desperate plea, "Please... please make me come. I need it, I need you."

You're practically begging him now, your body arching towards him, and you can feel him grinning against your skin. He knows he has you completely at his mercy.

He groans at your words, the sound almost feral. He loves seeing you like this, so desperate and needy for him.

He moves faster, his tongue and fingers working in perfect sync to bring you to the edge. He feels your body tensing, your thighs trembling around his head.

"Come for me," he growls, his voice rough with need. "I want to feel you come on my tongue."

At his words you come screaming his name. He groans loudly as you come, your voice echoing in the small room.

He keeps working you through your orgasm, his tongue and fingers prolonging your pleasure. He feels you clenching around him, and it sends another wave of arousal through him.

When you finally come down from your high, he pulls back, his face and neck glistening with your juices. He looks up at you, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"That's my girl," he says, his voice rough and satisfied.

You smiled and knelt down, unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his boxers before kissing his cock. He lets out a guttural moan as you kiss him, his hands gripping your hair tightly.

"God, you're going to be the death of me," he says, his voice strained.

He watches you as you kiss and nuzzle his length, his eyes dark with desire. Hae-soo grip your hair tighter, urging you on.

You feel his hands tighten in your hair, and the sensation sends a thrill through you. You look up at him, meeting his gaze, and you can see the need and desire mirrored in his eyes.

You take him into your mouth, your lips sliding over him, and he moans, his head falling back.

"You're so good at this," he mutters, his voice ragged with pleasure.

He can't help but thrust into your mouth, his control slipping for a moment. He watches you, his eyes closed, lost in the sensations.

"Fuck," he mutters again, his grip on your hair tightening even more. "You're driving me insane."

He looks down at you, his eyes now open, watching you intently as you pleasure him.

His words drive you on, and you feel a sense of satisfaction at how undone he is. You tease him with your mouth, sucking and licking him in all the right spots, making him shiver and moan.

He can't seem to stay still, his hips shifting towards you, wanting more.

"You're going to finish me off," he groans, the words barely a whisper.

He can feel his control slipping further with each movement of your mouth. He tries to hold back, to savor the moment, but it's becoming increasingly difficult.

He can feel the tension building in his body, the heat coiling low in his belly. He tries to hold on, to prolong the moment, but he knows it's a losing battle.

"I'm close," he manages to choke out, his voice strained. "So close."

You feel him shudder beneath you, and you know he's close to the edge. You want to give him more, to make him come undone completely.

You increase your pace, your lips and tongue working harder, wanting to push him over the edge. You can hear his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, his body trembling with need.

"Let go," you say, your voice low and ragged. "I want to feel you."

The words push him over the edge, and he comes with a roar, his body arching off the table.

He comes hard, filling your mouth with his release. He grips your hair so tightly that it almost hurts, but you don't care. You continue to suck and lick him through his orgasm, wanting to taste every drop of him.

He pants heavily, trying to catch his breath, his eyes closed as he rides out the waves of pleasure.

He finally comes down from his high, his body trembling and weak. He opens his eyes and looks down at you, his expression a mixture of satisfaction and exhaustion.

He tugs gently on your hair, pulling you up to kiss him, tasting himself on your lips.

"You're a menace," he says, his voice hoarse. "And I love it."

[mweothe11e]

PAC Reading: What are your hidden gifts?

(this is strictly for entertainment purposes only)

In commemoration of my birth month, I'm curious about what other skills or talents I have yet to discover and master. So I made this PAC as a little pick-me-up to somehow beat the seasonal blues~

Note: I pulled these cards in November but only got to finish the readings this April 2025. Lol, this is wild.

Pile 1: Shell

Cards pulled: Wheel of Fortune, World, 9 of Coins

Hi Pile 1, let yourself sit back as I discuss your potential hidden gifts. Remember, take only what resonates; feel free to choose another pile, just don't try to make things fit, okay?

You might have this uncanny nudge about timing, like knowing when to strike, which opportunities are worth the risks, when it is safe for you to leave, etc.

Another potential interpretation of the Wheel of Fortune card is its adaptability to sudden upheaval. For example, when things completely turn into disarray, you can somehow be able to bounce back almost instantaneously despite how the situation looks like it's against your favor.

The next card. the World feels like your hidden gift is related to this solid sense of belonging in your body. Now stay with me, let me expound on this for a sec.

Some people have unbearable body dysmorphia and some struggle to love the body they are born in, particularly what they look like. Usually, but not always, it's rooted in a lack of self-confidence or their people-pleasing tendencies to take control of their life (these unfortunate darlings tend to cave in easily to snide comments of haters and naysayers). So these precious souls tend to lose their identity for the sake of external validation and surface attempt of "belongingness".

Your hidden gift is being impervious to societal pressure to conform. You know who you are and what you have to offer. You also understand what you are currently working on and your non-negotiables. You don't conform to peer pressure, or maybe, not anymore; because why try to be like someone else when there's only one of you in the world?

Another interpretation to this card is the ability to see a goal/plan through. Now, this might come as a surprise to you so let me explain further. A lot of us make tons of plans that never get carried out into fruition; those plans remains as just that, ideas... But not you.

Your hidden gift is not only thinking of a plan but you know how to fulfill it and actually succeed. You know when to pivot and adjust when one approach doesn't work. You don't get stuck sulking when plan A fails because you have plan B onwards to try out~

The last card feels like your hidden gift is self-sufficiency. TBH, your whole pile is career-centric gifts! Like you know how to get things done right and on time. You're like a one-person team because you can literally do it all! Like if you're a content creator, you know how to write your script, you know how to video edit, you know how to color grade the shots, etc.

But this gift feels oddly heavy, with almost borderline perfectionistic vibes. So please, be careful with this gift. Remember, perfect doesn't exist so don't beat yourself up for not always being perfect and high energy all the time.

(This concludes the end of your pile reading) (This is for entertainment purposes only)

Pile 2: Lollipop

Cards Pulled: 7 of Coins, High Priestess, 4 of Wands

Hi Pile 2, let yourself sit back as I discuss your potential hidden gifts. Remember, take only what resonates; feel free to choose another pile, just don't try to make things fit, okay?

So the first card, 7 of Coins, feels like perseverance and resilience are your hidden gifts. It's something you might consider as a gift because you might be the type to not really see your ability to shorten your learning curve's time by consistently focusing on your mastery in an effective manner. And also, you don't beat yourself up if you don't get it immediately, you're not the type to enjoy instant gratification; you're all about that long-term harvest.

Another interpretation of this gift is that you have this eternal student mindset. You don't believe that you know everything, which lowkey excites you because it gives you more reason to want to learn and explore more.

The last interpretation I can think of for this card is the ability to actualize and achieve your goals in real life. I heard Ariana Grande's "7 Rings" in my head during this reading. Like, if you want to achieve something, you know how to get things done, by planning out the actionable steps that help you get closer to achieving your goals. A lot of people can dream big, but you pile 2, have the persistence and resilience to turn those dreams into reality.

The next card, High Priestess, talks about the possibility of your hidden gift being untapped intuition, or any spiritual gifts you may have unknowingly inherited from your ancestors. It can be any kind of spiritual gifts, I feel this spiritual gifts wildly differs from every person who chose this pile, something that you might have been interested but you couldn't put a finger why you feel called to it. Feel free to do thorough research about this prior to actually practicing it. It's better to be safe than sorry.

Another interpretation is you could try to see if you feel called to try to learn divination, like tarot cards, scrying, using a pendulum, etc. This might be the pile for my newly interested baby occultists/ spirituality enthusiasts. Again, do your thorough research, be careful and never forget to cleanse your energy and call your energy back.

The last possible interpretation I can give you for the second card is you might have an undiscovered affinity to be an effective mentor of your given specialty/interest. This is for my mid twenties and above followers. You might have certain skillsets that you never considered to try to teach others for profit. You know those mentorship programs you see online that teaches different types of skills, like in Coursera, or any other online classes; feel free to look into that, and be open to try this possible source of side income.

The last card, 4 of Wands, suggests that you may possibly have the hidden gift of having this charisma that attracts people naturally to create your like-minded community. Like, you know how to bring together a good-natured crowd that knows how to be happy for your happiness.

Another interpretation for this card is your hidden gift is you might have knack for events planning/hosting. Okay hear me out, I know this is such an odd gift to have, this potential interpretation isn't for everyone and please use discernment if it resonates with you are not.

Okay now to further explain this potential interpretation. You might have this knack when you know how to host a good house party. So party planning is also a possibility. Interesting enough, I heard, "You make really delicious foods!" So you can try to see if you wanna try catering or packed lunches as a side gig business.

The last potential interpretation I can think of is that you might have this kind of comforting vibe whenever people are around you. The type to be the comfort person of your friend group/community. Everyone's go-to person, for better or for worse. You're like the glue in the friend group.

(This concludes the end of your pile reading) (This is for entertainment purposes only)

Pile 3: Lipstick

Cards Pulled: King of Swords, King of Coins, 4 of Cups

Hi Pile 3, let yourself sit back as I discuss your potential hidden gifts. Remember, take only what resonates; feel free to choose another pile, just don't try to make things fit, okay?

The first card suggests that your ability to be self-disciplined and self-motivated is one of your many hidden gifts. Now there's this lack of appreciation towards your self-discipline and integrity, as if it had always been expected, but it has some rather restricting/almost oppressive energy.

As if there are bad people who take advantage of your integrity and self-discipline, one minor example is someone taunting you by eating your favorite dessert when you're on a strict diet. This can also be interpreted as being ostracized for being a strict/stern yet effective employee/coworker/manager.

Another example is that you were being dragged in a rumor/scandal that would cause a smear campaign on your name (whether you spoke up or not), and your general respect for other people's privacy and integrity was used against you. It's like you tend to be the kind of person who's generally good-natured, so you tend to be easy prey for covert narcissists, manipulators, two-faced liars, and opportunistic gas-lighters.

The second card suggests that another hidden gift of yours is your generosity and social connections. Your love language may be gift-giving, and you may be the type to believe in sharing your blessings with your loved ones whenever you can. This generosity doesn't just mean physical gifts, it can also be about being generous with your time, efforts, connections, and knowledge.

This hidden gift feels the hardest to detect at first encounter because you might have trust issues from being taken advantage of in the past, be it your resources, connections, or positive reputation. It is hidden for your own sake because having this gift readily exposed leaves you susceptible to being a target of opportunistic, abusive narcissists. But this gift requires you to hone discernment.

Another interpretation of the second card is that your hidden gift could be that you have the qualities of becoming an encouraging mentor to people in your industry. So this feels more career-oriented, like this hidden gift tends to shine in your work environment. You could be that reliable go-to coworker/manager who knows how to disseminate instructions calmly and respectfully. In short, you could be everyone's favorite motivating boss.

Finally, the last card was the most confusing in this pile because it usually means apathy, contemplation, or indifference, so I had to sit with myself to figure out how this card can be a hidden gift.

So, upon walking around my house and coming back here, I came to the conclusion that the last card may suggest that your hidden gift is about your cut-off game once you felt disrespected or taken advantage of. It's like you can be the most loving, giving, and understanding person in the world, yet the moment you smell BS lies and disrespect, your cut-off game be colder than the Eastern Antarctic Plateau in Antarctica. IYKYK.

Another interpretation for this hidden gift is that you might have a knack for sensing/knowing when you don't feel unwelcome in a place, like a subconscious vibe check. I can also see this being interpreted as easily noticing signs when you've outgrown situations, people, places and community, so you don't have a hard time to disconnect, pack your stuff and live in a place that you feel would help you feel safe to grow, evolve and be the best version of yourself that you can be.

(This concludes the end of your pile reading) (This is for entertainment purposes only)

Pile 4: Butterfly:

Cards Pulled: Star, 5 of Wands, 10 of Swords

Hi Pile 4, let yourself sit back as I discuss your potential hidden gifts. Remember, take only what resonates; feel free to choose another pile, just don't try to make things fit, okay?

Okay so the first card suggests that your hidden gift could be your positive outlook, despite your harsh upbringing. It isn't toxic positivity, it's more of mental fortitude and resilience brought about by a hopeful drive to choose to see and move towards a better tomorrow.

Now you might be asking, how is this a hidden gift when it's normal for you... Gimme a sec and lemme break it down for you in a bit.

Since you've literally grown up in harsh conditions, you did everything you could to survive and not lose hope to keep yourself sane and focused on your goals. For you, it's normal to not be swayed by the cruelty of the world, and it's just your regular Tuesday to keep moving forward towards a hopeful tomorrow.

So what is normal and almost automatic for you is hard and unimaginable to those who grew up spoiled, sheltered, or dare I say, privileged. Actually, people born in privilege, some of them, tend to out of touch with reality most of the time, (unless their parents were the ones who created their own source of wealth), usually having appreciation and gratitude for what they have is something they lack, so privileged people tend to crash out drastically at the slightest inconvenience and would usually lash out if they don't get coddled exactly as how they were spoilt growing up.

So people who took advantage of their family's affluence and resources tend to be the ones who feel easily discontent and tend to have these out-of-pocket, ignorant remarks, which highlight how clueless and almost disrespectfully ignorant they are about what is happening to the world today.

So, how does this relate to your hidden gift? Funny you would ask, so let me give you a realistic example of what would happen if you and a privileged person were to both be thrown in an unpredictable, and almost life-threatening situation? For example: losing your source of income.

Well you wouldn't waste your time blaming the world why you lost your job out of nowhere, you'd actually analyze how much money you still have and plan out how to ration your resources while you go out and immediately applying for jobs that are label "immediate hire"; you'd be the type to accept part time jobs to make meets end until you have enough money saved (roughly 6 months worth of FU money) before you start applying for higher-paying employment and a better living accommodations.

And the privileged, spoilt person who lost their only source of money, their inheritance? Well, it depends on how ignorant, sheltered, and out-of-touch with reality they are; those would make or break how they'll survive. Does this example make more sense as to why this is a hidden gift you really should treasure and appreciate more?

The next card suggests that another hidden gift of yours is your ability to stay competitive and driven despite your adversities. I feel this hidden gift is also related to your first gift; more so, these two go hand in hand nicely. With the second card, it really feels like your hidden gifts are closely tied to your experience-cultivated resilience because your innate desire isn't just to survive, what you really want is to progressively thrive to have a more stabilized and secure future.

Now to survive, you'll need to stay well-informed and prepared for the best and worst days that can potentially happen. You have this energy of a seasoned fighter, where you know that just because there isn't a reason to fight, you keep on training as part of your daily regimen. Does this description make sense to you?

With this hidden gift, you might have this almost unquenchable desire to keep improving and wanting to gather as many sources of incomes as a means to comfort your subconscious that you deserve to live a comfortable life, that's why you don't mind working the grind, because just in case another world wide pandemic happens, at least you and your loved ones won't have any worries financially, so you can still afford to have roof over your head, food on the table, and be able to fully pay for hospital bills without worries or anxiety.

Lowkey, your second hidden gift is giving Earth sign vibes, more so Capricorn and Taurus, than Virgo tbh. You don't need to have these placements in your birth chart to say that this is your pile. Take note, it's just the energy of the card; this part may or may not resonate with you. It just reminded me about how earth signs know the true value of hard work for the sake of a comfortable sense of security and stability that they aspire to have in the future. It's giving, exercise now to avoid health problems in the future.

Another interpretation of the second card is not being afraid to fight for your rights and knowing your worth. With this one, it feels like you don't tolerate disrespect, especially when someone else would dare take credit for YOUR HARD WORK. You don't play about the things you worked hard for.

Also, you might hate snarky side comments from random gossipers that claim you took Ozempic or underwent plastic surgery to lose weight, when nobody knows how consistently you've worked out to get the healthy body you've always aspired to have.

Like they don't know how many times you got injured working out in the gym when you were focusing on taking better care of your health. They don't know how hard you struggled to fix your diet and say no to your favorite pizza and chicken combo. None of those naysayers know how you felt terrible for caving into your previous cravings and struggled to get back into your workout program?! Those clueless, jealous people don't have any say when they choose to keep complaining and not care about their well-being.

Granted, some people have chronic illness, but those who are physically capable of doing the things you did for your health, helllllllllllll naaaaaaaahh, they're just a bunch of haters because they're not putting in the work and yet expect to have the body and health that you have. If they aren't supporting and congratulating you on your fitness journey, their opinions are nothing but background static noises that make buzzing mosquitoes sound like opera symphonies.

So the final card suggests that your hidden gift was the knowledge you've acquired through multiple tower moments, losses, and burnouts. Being the ever-resilient workaholic that you are, you're no stranger to losses and burnouts. You had days when you surprised yourself, like "How the hell did I survive that?".

So the knowledge on how to bounce back after losses and overburden has given you tools and strategies rarely talked about by productivity coaches online. Since those lessons came from your lived experiences, you formulated strategies and approaches specifically catered to help you bounce back from ruin and despair as efficiently and effectively as possible. Basically, your bounce-back's response time is shorter as your productivity and resilience period stretch out progressively longer and stronger.

Granted, you get tired, too, because everyone has limits, and you, too, have days when you have had enough. So this means, one of the many garnered knowledge you've acquired through multiple struggles is your self-awareness of your strengths, weaknesses, and body's current limitations allows you to curate your self-care routine on a whole other level.

You know which coping mechanisms can help you sustainably regulate your nervous system, as well as you know which nighttime routines help you feel the most rested and energized the next day. You know which foods help you feel more full and have enough caffeine rush to get the ball rolling. As well, you know which mini workout routines help you destress, decompress your spine, and help you bloat less.

Because of your self-awareness of your overall well-being, you now how the knowledge and tools to curate an ideal lifestyle that helps you, not only function better, but progressively sustain a healthier lifestyle.

(This concludes the end of your pile reading) (This is for entertainment purposes only)

Reminder:

This Pick-A-Card reading is for entertainment purposes only. You may resonate with more than one, or you might not resonate with any at all. It doesn't mean that you don't have any hidden gifts. Maybe other readers who tackled this question/topic/theme or something similar might have mentioned the hidden gifts that you might possess. Feel free to check other tarot readers here.

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[macbethsymphony]

Negotiations

Dracule Mihawk x Reader

wc: 5.2 k

tw: NSFW, 18+, this is just pure filth guys, it's 5k of smut, there's no plot. Edging, overstimulation, slightly dubcon, fingering, Mihawk has the hyperfocus of a god? this is highly toxic and slightly unethical ngl

Summary: The tale of how a negotiator convinced the marine hunter to consider becoming a warlord.

AO3

Eat, drink, nap, kill marines, drink some more, sleep, and repeat. That was the unvarying routine of Dracule Mihawk, marine hunter. At least, that’s what he’d been up to, these past two months.

Marine hunter. What a fucking joke. Marine killer was more accurate. The man was deranged, his actions driven by an insidious boredom that turned slaughter into a twisted game. It was painfully obvious that he was merely toying with the Marines, savoring the macabre sport, desperately looking for someone who would match his skills. If you had your way, you’d be plotting his demise instead. Though you supposed if you were here, it meant they’d all failed.

Tsuru’s words echoed in your mind, firm and unyielding: “I trust you are able to bring him to the table,” she had said. “You are our best negotiator, after all.”

So, you grit your teeth and set the scene. For in no world was disappointment an option; failing your superiors, especially Tsuru, was unthinkable.

Your officers were meticulously positioned, the bar’s usual faces replaced by those of disguised operatives. Only a few of the establishment's staff remained. A strategic decision to ensure the venue’s operations ran smoothly without drawing suspicion. The air was thick with tension, and you were acutely aware that the slightest misstep could unravel the entire thing. The possibility of disaster loomed large; a single error could transform this carefully orchestrated meeting into a chaotic bloodbath, with no chance of containing Mihawk’s whims.

Your heart pounded with an almost unbearable intensity, a drumbeat of anxiety and anticipation. You reminded yourself that your team were experts, each one adept at their role, and that every detail had been rehearsed to perfection. You could do this. You would succeed where all others had failed.

The door to the bar creaked open, drawing your attention as you smoothly transitioned into your assigned role. “Whiskey, neat, please,” you requested from the bartender, your eyes never leaving the imposing figure in the corner. “Actually, I’ll take the whole bottle.”

You watched with a tight-lipped smile as Mihawk, with deliberate nonchalance, made his way behind the bar. He selected two bottles of fine wine, his movements leisurely, and then settled into his usual spot, a booth in the corner, away from everyone. A fleeting, almost imperceptible smirk played on his lips as he uncorked one of the bottles and poured himself a glass. Your breath caught, a shiver of doubt sliding through you, but you forced yourself to look again. 

Good. 

It was nothing more than a trick of the light.

You downed your glass, slamming it with a bit too much force on the bar counter. 

Everything was falling into place. You had him where you wanted him; all you needed to do was stick to the script. You adjusted your dress, the provocative cut emphasizing every curve. Confidence surged through you. You knew how to handle men like him. This would be no different. 

You approached him, whiskey bottle in hand, your movements practiced and deliberate. “Hello, handsome,” you purred, your voice a silky caress. He would be putty in your hands before long.

But as his gaze locked with yours, the air between you seemed to thicken. The intensity of his stare left you breathless, feeling strangely vulnerable. The mastery you usually wielded over people faltered. You couldn’t decipher him, couldn’t read him. At all.

This was not how it was supposed to go.

Fuck.

Fuck.

You were always in control, always able to manipulate the situation with ease. You were the master and they the puppets. The fact that Mihawk’s inscrutable expression was completely impenetrable threw you off balance.

You were already committed, though. Backing out now was not an option.

“Mind if I sit?” you asked, voice dropping to a husky whisper. You allowed your fingers to trail delicately along his shoulder and then drift over the exposed skin of his chest. Your gaze flickered to the other banquette, the seat occupied by the bulk of his massive sword, back to him. The invitation in your eyes was unmistakable.

For a moment, you thought you glimpsed a spark of amusement in his gaze, but it was so fleeting that you couldn’t be sure. Mihawk tilted his head slightly, the feather on his hat accentuating the movement with a languid grace.

“Be my guest,” he said, his tone flat and devoid of emotion.

He made no move to shift from his position, no move to shift the position of his sword. You bit the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to maintain composure. The arrangement was deliberate—there was no easy way for you to sit without essentially stepping over him and trapping yourself between him and the wall.

He was toying with you, you realized with a flicker of frustration. But if he wanted a game, you were more than capable of playing along. You were a master of your craft after all. With a deliberate motion, you took the third, more unexpected option. You straddled him, the hem of your already short dress rising even higher as your legs settled to his side. 

You held his gaze steadily as you sipped from the whiskey bottle, slamming it behind you with a practiced flourish once you were done.

His gaze didn’t shift as he drank in your form, lingering on your curves, then back to your features. You did the same, taking him in, the sharpness of his jaw, the solidity of his muscles. You’d already known he was handsome, hours of looking at pictures had told you that, but by the gods above he was almost ethereal. You prayed for a moment that the heat you felt was from the alcohol you just downed. But you knew it wasn’t.

“Bold.” The word snapped you out of your thoughts. “For a marine that is.”

Your spine went cold at the statement. 

He knew. 

Of course, he knew. 

But you were still alive, which meant he was still willing to entertain this scene. 

It’d been a power play you realized a touch too late. He’d just flipped the script you had so carefully prepared. 

Interesting. 

Absolutely thrilling.

You hadn’t expected that he’d be a worthy opponent and you’d let him earn the first point in your carelessness. It didn’t matter, however, you could easily recover from such a small blunder.

You leaned in closer, your breath mingling with his as you whispered, “Boldness is often rewarded, don’t you think, marine hunter?” Your fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest, feeling the marble-like skin, the uneven rhythm hoping to distract in its randomness.

Mihawk’s gaze darkened, his eyes flicking down to your lips before returning to your eyes. “Rewards come in many forms,” his voice was a seductive drawl. “Some more satisfying than others.”

You stopped the patterns, nails digging tenderly into hard muscles as you traveled down.

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, the sound low and inviting. “Well, I do aim to satisfy.” You pursed your lips, emphasizing the word. Your fingers continued their path, slipping to rest on his belt buckle, playing with the metal. “But satisfaction is a two-way street. What would it take to make you happy, Mihawk?”

His hand moved, a distracting caress tracing up your thigh, stopping right under the hem of your dress. The touch was electrifying, sending a shiver down your spine. “Happiness is a fleeting emotion,” he said, his eyes boring into yours. His fingers roamed back down, nails digging softly in the plush skin, mirroring your previous actions. “I prefer something more... enduring.”

Fuck.

He was good.

You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. “And what might that be?”

He smirked, a predatory gleam taking over the amber hues of his eyes. “Isn’t that your job to figure out, little marine?”

You bit your lip trying to come back. He wasn’t just good, he was almost your match. You could feel the unbridled heat of desire starting to swirl through your veins at the challenge. “I’m very good at my job,” you whispered, your voice dripping with insinuations as you leaned closer, your lips a hair’s breadth away. “I’m sure I can find a way to please you.”

Mihawk’s fingers traveled back up your thigh, right past the hem of your dress, dug in before the curve of your rear, the pressure a mix of pleasure and pain. “I wasn’t aware, the marines sent whores to negotiate their deals.” He looked down at you, a sneer nearly breaking his lips. 

You felt a sliver of satisfaction. He’d almost cracked. Soooo, he had standards. He didn’t like things too easy, did he? You could play with that. 

You laughed, your hands roaming up, palms flat against his chest. You traced the sharpness of his jaw. “Oh no.” You brought the tips of your fingers to his lips. “I’m not here to whore myself out. But if it brings you to the table, I’m sure I can find the sweetest cunt on the grand line for you.”

His eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing through them as he considered your words. You were suddenly reminded of how he held every card, how you were at the mercy of his every caprice. You only happened to hold his attention for now, only happened to entertain him enough for him to let you and your squadron live. He was THE marine hunter. It didn’t matter if every officer in the establishment were to pull their weapons out and point at him. He’d be fine and you’d all be dead. The tension between you crackled like a storm about to break, every touch and every word a loaded gun.

“What a tempting offer,” he finally said, his voice a low purr that sent your heart racing in more ways than one. “But I find that I prefer a more... personal touch.”

To punctuate his point his hand reached further, against the curve of your ass, before coming back and digging in your hip, pressing you down to him. You almost moaned, every fiber of your being fighting the primal urges that strained to be free. You let out a silent gasp instead. This was going too far, getting out of your grasp. A mistake. An admission of your desires. You were slipping more by the moment. You moved your hand up, giving the signal for everyone to vacate. You’d have to do this alone, you wouldn’t risk so many lives on your inability to handle one man.

Mihawk noticed the subtle movement of your hand, his eyebrow arching with curiosity and a hint of amusement. “Calling off your dogs, are you? Either you’re very confident or very foolish,” he commented, his tone teasing yet edged with something sharper.

You felt a touch of annoyance prick at the edge of your mind. He was rubbing it in. Toying with you, trying to tease out reactions. Even though you felt anything but confident, you flashed a daring smile, the tension between you sparking with the undercurrent of unsaid words. 

You resumed your mindless patterns on his chest, slowly getting lower and lower. "Let's just say I would rather handle the finer details of these negotiations with more privacy. Make room for more... satisfying outcomes."

His fingers continued their dance along your side, dipping dangerously close to forbidden territory. Mihawk's smirk deepened as he seemed to see right through you, fixed right on your uncertainty. You felt yourself flailing, felt yourself losing your composure. 

“Privacy can certainly be... conducive to more fruitful negotiations,” he murmured, a dark caress relishing on the hold he held on you. He leaned in, reaching for his glass of wine. He took a slow sip, watching the gears turn in your head before putting it back behind you. “So what is it you want?” He asked, his hand grabbing to your chin, moving your head side to side with an appraising look, making you look at him.

You took a steadying breath, leaning into his touch, playing along with his game. “Oh not much,” You cooed, hand reaching his at your face, splaying it along your cheek, brushing your lips on his palm. ”I’ve only been instructed to get you to the negotiation table, nothing more, nothing less.” You dragged his hand down, spreading it along your throat bringing it over your heart. “I’m sure I could at the very least get you to consider it?”

It all happened too fast. You heard the sound of glass shattering on the floor before you registered the change in perspective. The hold he had over your throat was harsh as he pinned you down to the table, the remnants of the wine pooling in the tile like spilled blood.

“You think you can just waltz in and sway me with a few promises, like a common man?” There was something nearing disappointment in his tone and you realized you’d messed up. You’d been too hasty, too forward, he had been hoping to play longer. “How about this little marine, show me how badly you need me to do what you need and if you’re entertaining enough, I might consider it.”

The shift in Mihawk’s demeanor was almost terrifying in its intensity, and you struggled to keep your composure as his grip tightened on your throat. Your mind raced, trying to find a way to turn the situation back in your favor. The room was deathly silent in its emptiness, the tension palpable and if it wasn’t for the stiffness of his crotch against yours you’d think you’d lost all of your cards.

It might just get you killed but you arched your back beneath him, pressing into him. Your thighs trembled at his side as you struggled for breath but still, your hands grasped at his over your throat, pushing him further against you, cutting your airflow almost completely. If he wanted a show, then you’d give him one he’d remember until his last moments on earth.

Mihawk’s grip on your throat tightened for a second and you thought for an instant that this was it, that the underworld awaited you. But before darkness could cloud your eyes he loosened it, his gaze glinting with a mixture of curiosity and dark amusement. You could feel the rapid beat of your heart echoing in your ears as you gasped for breath, your whole body shaking beneath his. The room seemed to pulse with the intensity of the moment, every sense heightened.

“You’re quite the performer,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that only served to enhance the heat building between your legs. “But I’m not easily swayed by theatrics. Show me something real.”

You swallowed hard, your throat still aching from his grip, but you forced a smile. “Real, you say?” You let your hands glide away from his wrist, trailed your curves, and slipped the straps of your dress off from your shoulders, revealing more skin and black lace. “I can do real.”

Mihawk’s eyes darkened with interest, his gaze tracing the path of your hands as they moved. He released his grip on your throat, his fingers now trailing down to your collarbone, leaving a searing embers in their wake. The intensity in his stare was almost overwhelming, and you knew you had to find a way to keep control of the situation, even if it felt like you were barely holding on.

You grasped his hand, guiding it along your bare skin, to the plushness of your breast. “What is it you truly desire, Mihawk? Power? Control? Or perhaps something more... visceral?” You practically moaned out the words. 

His hand lingered on the lace, pushing it aside, fingers tracing lazy circles. The air between you was electric, charged with unspoken promises and the underlying tension of a predator toying with its prey.  This was a delicate game. You let out a soft moan, arching your back further, pressing yourself against him, rolling your hips.

A smirk broke on his lips as he saw right through your little performance. He knew exactly what game you were playing, and it was clear he was enjoying every moment of it. His hand moved with deliberate slowness, tracing the curve of your breast, his touch a maddening mix of gentle and firm. The control you sought seemed to slip further from your grasp with each passing second.

“And what do you propose, little marine?”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. “I propose we make this interesting. A game, if you will. You test my… resolve, and I test yours. We both get what we want.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “A game, you say? And what are the stakes?”

You bit your lip, your hand guiding his lower, your fingers ushering his along the dripping lace of your underwear. “If I can prove my worth to you, you agree to come to the negotiation table. If I fail...” You paused, letting the weight of the words hang between you. “If I fail, you can do with me as you please.”

He pushed aside the ruined fabric, the pads of his fingers meeting your slick before dipping inside. “You’re playing a dangerous game, little marine.” His smirk widened as a moan escaped you. “What makes you think I can’t just take what I want?”

The words hung in the air, thick with implication. You felt the intensity of his gaze boring into you, the heat from his touch searing into your skin. As though to emphasize his point, his thumb found your clit, tracing slow, deliberate circles, each movement sending jolts of pleasure through your body, mewls you tried to muffle out of your lips.

You swallowed hard, your breath coming in ragged gasps. “You could,” you admitted, your hand wrapping around his wrist as he moved his fingers in a come-hither motion, pressing all those delightfully right spots. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, fingers trembling, nails digging into him as a wave of ecstasy washed over you. You struggled to come back, half-lidded eyes meeting his. “But I’m sure I can make it much, much more entertaining for you if you decide to play along.”

His eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and dark curiosity. “You certainly know how to make an offer enticing.” He leaned in close, his breath touching your lips. “But from where I’m standing you’re already breaking.”

He was right, you were so close to falling apart under him. "Am I not to your pleasing?" You asked, voice trembling against his. You reached up and discarded his hat, your fingers seeking to tangle in his hair. “Am I not entertaining enough for you, marine hunter?”

He chuckled, his lips brushing over yours. His fingers continued their tantalizing exploration, pushing you closer to the edge with each deliberate movement. He was testing you, pushing your limits to see how far you could go. And yet, despite the overwhelming intensity, you were determined to hold your ground.

“You are quite pleasing,” he admitted, his voice was thick with lust and its intensity almost sent you over. “But I wonder, how much more can you take before you beg for mercy?”

You bit your lip, a mixture of defiance and desire burning in your eyes. “I don’t beg, Mihawk. That’s what makes it interesting.”

His smirk widened, his fingers pressing deeper, eliciting another soft moan from you. “Bold words, little marine. Very bold indeed. Let’s see if that’s true.”

His lips met yours, slow and teasing, a dance of dominance and submission, a battle for control, a negotiation of its own. He moved against you with a practiced precision, each movement calculated to draw out your reactions. You could feel the intensity of his desire, the raw power behind each touch.

You were close. So fucking close. 

You swore under your breath as he suddenly stopped.

“I wonder what will make you break the fastest.” Satisfaction was evident in his voice as he felt you flutter around his fingers. “Denial or pleasure?”

Your breath hitched at Mihawk's words, the sensation of his fingers lingering just out of reach driving you to the edge of your sanity. This was a dangerous game, one where you had to balance the razor's edge between control and surrender. If… if you managed to hold out long enough… even he couldn’t resist lust forever. 

You couldn't let him see just how close you were to breaking.

Drawing on every ounce of willpower, you forced a sly smile. Your hands left his hair and traced down his chest. "Why not try both and find out?" 

He interrupted their path as you reached his belt. Deftly he brought them over your head, his weight pinning you entirely in place as he started moving his fingers again. His eyes gleamed as he looked down at you, relishing the arch of your body against his, relishing your struggle. 

He leaned close, his breath hot against your ear. "Now, now,” he tutted at you. “You can’t just skip ahead. Let's see how long you can endure."

Before you could respond, his lips descended on yours again, demanding and possessive. The kiss was bruising, filled with the same intensity that characterized every touch and word between you. His fingers made you see stars, their exploration agonizingly slow, teasing you mercilessly, never quite giving you what you needed.

You moaned into his mouth, bucked against his hand, your every instinct overtaken by a desperate need for release. The tension between you was unbearable, every nerve ending screaming for more. 

He stopped and started again and again and again, until you struggled with your breath and your whole body quivered and sang to each of his demands.

Mihawk's lips left yours, trailing down your jawline to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that almost made you lose your mind. "You're holding up better than I expected," he murmured against your skin, biting softly on your exposed nipple before soothing it with his tongue.

You barely managed a breathless laugh, closer to sobs than anything. "I told you, Mihawk. I don't break easily."

He chuckled, a sound that was both dark and amused. "We'll see about that."

His fingers moved with a different purpose now, driving you closer and closer to the edge, fast and hard. You could feel the tension coiling within you, the impending release just out of reach. And still, he held you there, teetering on the brink, refusing to let you fall.

It was maddening, the way he controlled you so effortlessly, drawing out every ounce of pleasure and frustration until you thought you might lose your mind. And yet, you couldn't help but crave more and he couldn’t help but to push you further, to see just how far you could go before you finally shattered.

"Please," you whispered, the word slipping out before you could stop it.

You felt his smile against your skin. “There we go,” he drawled out the words. “The little marine knows how to beg after all.”

With a sudden, devastating precision, he drove you over the edge, his fingers moving in perfect rhythm to bring you to the peak of ecstasy. You cried out, your body convulsing with the force of your release, your muscles straining against his hold.

As you came back to reality, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you gasping at the sudden loss. He brought his hand to your mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. “Taste your resolve, little marine.”

You opened your mouth, taking his fingers in, your tongue swirling around them, tasting the remnants of your desire. The act was a surrender and he watched you with contentment, his gaze victorious.

“Good girl,” his voice was a satisfied purr, one that made your mind feel fuzzy and your body hot. “Now let’s see how well you break under pleasure.” 

His hands moved to your hips, his grip firm as he repositioned you with ease, brought you closer to the edge of the table. You felt some of your slick cooled by time, seep into the fabric of your dress, against your lower back as he pulled you over the puddle of arousal that had been slowly gathering on the wooden top.

His movements were deliberate, calculated, his eyes never leaving yours as he took off his belt, the leather sliding through the loops with a whispering sound. He eyed it for a moment, a slow smile spreading across his lips before his attention came back to you. 

“Will you be a good?” His tone was threatening. “Or do I have to restrain you again?”

You swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat. The challenge was unmistakable.  “I can be good,” you whispered, your voice hoarse but it sounded unconvincing, even to your ears. The thought of being powerless under his hold once again was somehow unbearable.

Mihawk’s smile widened, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I don’t think you can, little marine.”

With a swift motion, he looped the belt around your wrists, pulling it tight enough to restrain but not to hurt. The leather bit into your skin, the sensation unnerving.

”You’re just waiting for a chance to turn the tables, aren’t you?”

You quirked your head to the side, a hint of defiance shining through. “Can you blame me?” He let go of your hands and you made no effort to keep them up, letting them drop to your stomach. “It’s not fair if you hold ALL the cards.”

“Fairness is a luxury, little marine.” His hands moved to your thighs, pushing them apart with a firm, insistent pressure. “A luxury one can rarely indulge in when playing to win.”

He paused for a moment, his gaze raking over your form, something you couldn’t decipher spreading on his features, an intensity you’d only ever seen on wild animals.

“I must admit, you’re quite the sight.” His fingers traced the edge of your underwear. With a swift motion, he tore the delicate fabric away, leaving you completely exposed. “But I think you’ll be much more entertaining once broken.”

Your breath caught in your throat in a small hiccup, the threat in his words not escaping you. Your eyes stood at a standstill as he deliberately slowly undid his pants.

His cock met your heat, gathering your slick and the soft pressure on your oversensitive clit made you want to twist and buck beneath him. He brought one of your already trembling legs over his shoulder, his hand roaming up and down in a soothing touch. 

You felt his tip at your entrance, the slow delightful stretch as he entered you in a tortuously unhurried advance. Your entire body reacted to the sensation, you arched beneath him, your eyes fluttering close, your wrists strained against your bindings desperate to hold unto something, anything to ground you. The pleasure was intense, almost overwhelming and as he met your cervix you couldn’t help the sharp cry that escaped your lips, nor the tears gathering in your eyes.

“You’re so tight, little marine,” Mihawk chuckled, taking in every detail of the moment and searing it in his mind. “So responsive. I can feel you clenching around me, trying to hold on.” 

His movements were controlled, each thrust calculated to draw out your reactions, to push you closer to the edge. You wouldn’t beg. You wouldn’t cry for mercy. You were so close. Each drag of his cock against your fluttering walls was heavenly. The room seemed to fade away, the only thing that mattered was the sensation of him inside you. 

You could feel the dam within you beginning to crack and then his hand found your clit once more and your breath stopped. It was too much. You came around him with a desperate gasp.

He didn’t stop, his thrusts still perfectly controlled. You knew the overstimulation was coming but it didn’t prepare you for the moment it washed over you. Your eyes shot open and makeup blurred tears stained your cheeks. You fought as though it was a matter of life or death. It was too much. Too fucking much. But his hands held you firmly in place, unable to escape his relentless assault.

And then a second orgasm rippled through your veins, blinding and even more intense than the first. 

But he still didn’t stop. Your cries stuck at the back of your throat, sobs wreaking your body. 

“Please,” you couldn’t help but beg again and again, your limbs so taut beneath him it was painful.

As his laugh hit your ears, you realized he didn’t care. Realized he was having fun. Your body twisted violently beneath him, too harsh for him to control and he let out an annoyed click of his tongue before flipping you over, the edge of the table digging hard into your hips as he entered you again. 

“Mercy,” you pleaded, wrists straining so intensely against your bindings that you knew you’d be nursing those red marks for days.

“Already?” His hand kneaded your ass roughly, pushing you even more painfully against the wooden top. “How disappointing, little marine.” His touch snaked up along your spine and tangled forcefully in your hair, keeping you pinned down and struggling against his hold. “I’m just getting started.”  He punctuated his statement with an especially sharp movement of his hips.

Your legs kicked in the air as another orgasm rippled through you, and you felt your arousal drip down your thigh and your drool seep out of your redded lips.

The world was careening around you and you couldn’t breathe and waves of pleasure washed over you so fast that your mind couldn’t keep up anymore. You eventually went slack beneath him, your entire body surrendering, and only then did his rhythm start to falter. 

He turned you back around, and you didn’t struggle, fully pliant for him. His fingers found your lips, played with the spit on your tongue, kept your mouth open as he reached closer to his own release. 

“Mercy,” you begged one last time, your words muffled, your lips wrapping against his fingers.

And he smiled, a predatory, victorious smile and you couldn’t help but think he looked ethereal in this moment. His hips stuttered one once more, his seed hot inside you and you clenched around him, white blurring your vision for the umpteenth time. 

He slowly pulled out, his gaze dropping to your entrance, watching his cum dribble out with a lust-blown stare. Your whole body still shook in the aftermath, your breath scattered and you spasmed at the feeling, a last vestige of submission as you whimpered. 

His fingers left your mouth and almost tenderly wiped your tear-stained cheek, brushing strands of hair that had been plastered on your sweat-covered skin behind your ear. His gaze stayed on you, considering.

“You’ve been more interesting than I expected,” He admitted as he pulled back up his pants.  “Very well, I’ll consider your offer on one condition.” He gently unraveled his belt, his hand lingering on your wrists and you gave a sharp hiss of pain he seemed to drink in with delight. 

“And that is?” you asked, your voice sounding far away, not your own.

He lazily passed the leather back in the belt loops, put back on his hat, making you wait.

“You’re the one who handles the negotiations. Just you and I. No one else.”

A slow smile of victory made its way to your lips.

“I’m sure that can be arranged.”

Masterlist

Might consider making a part 2, but don't hold me to that.

[slytherin-princess-x]

Catch me if I fall pt.2

Theodore nott x clumsy!reader

The pages of the advanced potions book fluttered under my fingertips as I thumbed through the beautifully illustrated diagrams. Each potion recipe seemed to pulsate with a promise of power and mastery, igniting a spark of excitement in me. As I read, I felt a sense of purpose wash over me; maybe I wasn’t just the clumsy girl in Slytherin after all.

“Have you ever made any of these potions before?” Theodore asked, leaning casually against the table. The library’s soft lighting caught the glint of his dark hair, creating an ethereal halo around him. I could feel his gaze on me, his interest genuine and reassuring.

“Not really,” I admitted, glancing up. “I’ve mostly stuck to the basics. But I want to try something new, something that challenges me.” I shifted my weight, my nerves stirring. “There’s a potion in here called the Potion of Secrets. It says it reveals hidden truths when consumed. Sounds intriguing, doesn’t it?”

“The Potion of Secrets?” Theodore raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Are you sure you want to uncover secrets? What if you learn something you wish you hadn’t?”

I chuckled, but the thought lingered. What kind of secrets could be unearthed? I glanced back at the page, tracing the elegant script with my finger. “I think it would be worth it. Plus, it could be useful in class or—”

“Or it could expose your love for someone,” he interrupted, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

My heart raced, and I felt the heat rise to my cheeks once more. “Theo!” I exclaimed, feigning annoyance, though part of me knew he was right. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” He leaned closer, and the playful banter we shared felt charged with something deeper. “You’re not the only one with secrets, you know. Maybe I’d like to know what you really think about me.”

I opened my mouth to retort but paused, caught in the intensity of his gaze. Was there something more behind his words? “Okay, fine,” I said, trying to play it cool despite the tumultuous emotions swirling within me. “Let’s say I do want to make it. Will you help me?”

Theodore straightened up, his expression shifting from playful to serious. “Of course. We can meet in the potions lab after dinner tomorrow. But be careful; potion-making can be tricky, especially with something as volatile as the Potion of Secrets.”

The next day, anticipation coursed through me as I gathered the ingredients I would need for the potion: crushed dragon root, powdered moonstone, and a few others that I hoped wouldn’t explode or turn me into something unspeakable. As I placed everything into my satchel, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this potion would change things between Theodore and me.

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the castle as I entered the potions lab. The familiar scent of herbs and spices enveloped me, providing comfort even as my heart raced with nervous excitement. Theodore was already there, his sleeves rolled up, meticulously organizing the workspace.

“You made it,” he said, his smile genuine, but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes as he glanced at my satchel. “Ready to unveil some secrets?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, taking a deep breath and trying to steady my nerves. Together, we set to work, following the intricate instructions in the book. The atmosphere was charged, filled with the heady scent of boiling potions and the palpable tension of unspoken feelings.

As we stirred the cauldron, I stole glances at Theodore, marveling at how effortless he made everything look. He was a natural; his movements fluid and graceful, just like the other Slytherins. Yet here we were, shoulder to shoulder, sharing this moment.

“Okay, the final ingredient,” Theodore said, handing me a vial filled with a shimmering liquid. “This is the essence of truth. Add it slowly. If it’s too fast, we’ll end up with a mess.”

My hands trembled as I uncorked the vial, pouring it in with great care. The cauldron emitted a vibrant glow, and the mixture bubbled excitedly. “Is it supposed to do that?” I asked, my voice a mix of excitement and trepidation.

Theodore leaned closer, watching intently. “I think we’re on the right track. Just a bit longer…”

As the potion simmered to a slow boil, I could feel the tension in the air intensifying. “What happens if we drink it?” I asked, my heart racing.

“Only one way to find out,” he replied, the weight of his words hanging heavily between us. “But remember, we might learn things we didn’t want to know.”

I looked into his eyes, feeling a blend of fear and thrill at the prospect of uncovering hidden truths—both about the potion and about us. As the potion cooled, I took a deep breath, my resolve solidifying. “Let’s do it.”

With a steady hand, we each poured a small amount of the potion into two goblets. Our eyes met, and in that moment, the world around us faded. It was just the two of us, standing on the precipice of something monumental.

“To secrets revealed,” Theodore said, raising his goblet, his gaze unwavering.

“To secrets revealed,” I echoed, my heart pounding in anticipation. We clinked our glasses together and took a sip.

The potion’s warmth spread through me, a rush of energy that felt electric. I gasped, caught between exhilaration and uncertainty, the room swirling around us as our hearts beat as one.

And then, everything shifted.

I could feel the pulse of magic in the air, and in that moment, the true nature of our secrets began to unravel, each sip pulling us closer to truths we were both afraid to face.

Taglist: @yootvi @redeemingvillains @littlemadamred @smut-anarchy

[rei-ismyname]

X-MEN #17 Review

"I am Magneto and I do not give speeches."

The X-Men vs fake X-Men rodeo in the snow continues as Xorn searches for Quentin and the twin rampages on Merle. There stands Magneto, full of gumption and dexies, the only thing between a monster and a town full of ingrates. 3K yap on and reveal the identity of another member, a D-lister Mags knows well. Spoilers for all issues and solicits of adjectiveless X-Men.

RIP The Marauder, probably

Surprise! Quentin ain't dead. I don't think a single person thought he was, but a few minutes rest will be great for his health especially after falling out of the sky. I'm not sure how I feel about technobabble making its way into X-Men, as we get a flashback to Quentin writing 'code' to protect his body when he's unconscious. It's something Jitter in Uncanny does occasionally when her powers give her technical mastery - the mall fight was especially egregious for just shouting medical terms that few readers could understand, let alone The Outliers. I think it mostly achieves the intended effect here, highlighting Quentin's impressive capabilities and the 'levelling up' he's been doing since Cyclops gave him a talking to back in issue #9.

Kid Omega has been yapping about his mighty brain for decades, so I'm happy to call it payoff for all the 'supercomputer/10 million thoughts a second' stuff. As someone who coasted without effort on natural ability then hit a wall hard in high school, it's a bit of a power fantasy to see that potential as unlimited. 'Hey brain, make my body do exactly this at exactly this time' even more so.

X-Men are like communists - they spend too much time fighting each other. The 3K X-Men accusing the real ones of being fake sellouts just makes that hit harder. Honestly I'm over this fight with the amount of combatants standing still. I know it's meant to be a delaying action preventing the X-Men from backing up Magneto, but a team vs team fight lasting 3 issues is decompressed to the point of barely moving. Feels like AvX or similar stalling in an eternal second act.

I figured out what seems off about Magneto - his angles! He's usually chiselled and angular, even gaunt at times. Rounded features looks odd on him. I'm not even nitpicking there, I just needed to elucidate the nagging feeling I've had. In a word, he looks ugly. I enjoy Stegman's pencils in general but Diaz does a better Magneto. Just quietly I'm a little salty that Uncanny is getting Valerio Schiti - they do a stupid hot Magneto and I'd love to see it again. Anyway, Mags sounds like a fool here, as he makes a speech about not making speeches. I hope he's lying, because this motherfucker gives so many speeches. They're one of his best features.

Heard you the first time dude.

Another is that he's a mutant menace, a term that's been thrown around a bit lately. Mags and the twin go at it but he's not trying to kill her and it's unclear if he actually could. Either way, when they speak Mags responds with cutting regret and an implicit challenge. With Quentin still knocked out there's nobody to counteract Cassandra Nova's influence on the twin. Cassandra refers to the twin as a '13 year old girl' so add 'forcing gender binary on a non-corporeal entity' to the list of her crimes.

You used to be somebody, man

It's implied that Nova is laying it on thick here, or otherwise the twin has a really good grasp of race war concepts and rhetoric. If it's the former, I think something is lost by Cassandra Nova giving them a script to follow and basically puppeting them. Mags is trying to appeal to agency - the ability to choose, and they're actually having a back and forth.

The twin repeating Nova word for word raises questions about the degree of agency as they smash Magneto, who was just answering the question. The hope spot of his words staggering them is brief but suggests that this crisis will eventually be solved non-violently. I do have to laugh at Mags getting called out for betraying mutantkind by driving a sentinel to protect flatscans, especially as it's Cassandra Nova saying it. There's a real opportunity to show how this propaganda sits with the mutant on the street, so to speak. These X-Men are very mutant focused yet Graymalkin still stands. They have a history of being establishment lackeys and beating down/imprisoning mutants who step out of line. They failed the Morlocks and Xavier killed Krakoa. It's not that simple but propaganda is a powerful tool especially when life sucks. Cassandra Nova might be the worst spokesperson there though - Genosha was not an act of mutant solidarity.

I love Ben Liu and Beast cheerleading Magneto. Get these boys some popcorn! Ben's finger pointing is unfair but hilarious, 'hooptie-ass sentinel' is not a phrase I expected to hear in the year of our DOOM 2025. Ben running off to help Magneto is a beat that really works, especially if you take Magneto's mentoring allusion seriously. We haven't seen Ben use his powers since issue #2, so anything can happen. The flipside is any kind of success is going to feel a bit unearned, but fuck it - jab my boy with dexies too and get out of the way!

Wyre talks a huge game with not a lot to back it up. I kinda want someone to kill him for being cringe, a sentiment Cassandra Nova seems to agree with. There's a production joke here - Mackay wanted to use Sabertooth for his role but he was killed off in Sabertooth War. Creed is certainly more impressive than this dipshit and Quentin has nightmares about the guy. It's a beat that can work, giving Wyre something to prove, but we'll see how that plays out. Right now he's delivering exposition and stating his feelings plainly like it's 1975. He's not alone in that...

Me too, Astra, me too.

We get a better look at 3K, as the third member is revealed to be... Astra. *sad trombone noises* If you're not familiar she's an old Magneto worshipper and the one who created Joseph, thrice, I think. Bit of a one trick pony, though she does teleport. I can't say that she's particularly interesting or threatening, but I do like her 'clone an army of Magnetos, sorry Josephs, and flip the magnetic poles' idea purely for its unhingedness. The idea that she keeps bringing it up is pretty funny, these meetings must be so tense. Like I said, one trick pony even if it is a great trick. Her being an F lister with minimal development might actually work in her favour, as aside from being obsessed with Magneto she's a blank canvas. That she was last seen in House of X #5 suggests that 3K itself is fairly new. If that's their #1 reason for not inviting Sinister they're idiots. Like there's a very good chance he'll subvert your project for himself even if you don't invite him - MF does mutant science crimes for breakfast lunch and dinner. He blew up the universe with cloning!

More interesting is 3K's agenda - mutant supremacy taken to the extreme end point. It's very blatantly a great replacement conspiracy theory, which is a really uncomfortable idea to put to print. Turning humans into mutants has been done a lot, though the proposed scale is new. Another way to look at it is 'give everyone superpowers, kill the rest' though we don't know why they want to do that. 'Hating humans' is pretty dull but maybe more will be revealed next issue when we find out who the chairman is. I wish they'd just get it out now, this slowrolling is tedious. I'm almost positive it will be the cliffhanger next time, but like, just fucking spit it out! Let's get the plot moving, yo! We've been fighting in the snow for 70% of the run at this point, just tell us who you are and do your thing. Some C-list genetics bad guy from the 90s/00s? Thought so. It took 17 issues to reveal Astra, for fuck's sake, which doesn't exactly hype me for who's under the helmet. At that point, why bother? Just get on with the plot.

Magik's Soul Sword keeps getting wider, right?

In a lot of ways these 3K X-Men and their masters are The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants with some ORCHIS scraps and a bigger budget. Extremists coming at the X-Men with accusations of failing mutants is one of the oldest X-Men tropes in existence. It can be interesting, but it needs to have something to say. I want to see a pamphlet on their beef or something, see if they've got anything fresh or if they're just another extremist mutant group. The thing is that a mutant who decided 'fuck humans. I'm done with these genocides' is a pretty reasonable position right now. Fighting the X-Men like every other group before? Not so much. Go destroy Graymalkin or something, you know? If you really want to show the X-Men how it's done, do that. Do their job better.

Ben spearheads Jen flying Piper to her mother, ideally to help convince the twin to cut it out. It's a solid plan, though there's a very high chance she gets reduced to a smear real quick. Mama Cobb is a mutant hater and is culpable for this mess, and she's terrified. We'll see how that wraps up next time, or maybe the issue after that with this fucking pacing. It's great to see Ben and Jen coming into their own, and Beast looks like he'll have to fight Wyre. The greasy weirdo has snuck into their base, and while it'd be great for Beast to fuck him up I kinda hope Glob bonks him with a frying pan or something. Why not both? Solicits have told us that agent fuckface comes to jail Scott in the wake of this second Iron Night, and something about Revelation/the artist formerly known as Doug Ramsey, I think. That sounds fun, I just wish it didn't take so long to get there. Not out of impatience, I just object to the padding and repetition plus slowrolled mysteries that don't land. Or impact the plot/characters even. That's probably not happening, so this book will remain fun but very frustrating.

Also... Why is Tom Brevoort answering all the letters for this book and Uncanny? That strikes me as really weird. Really fucking weird. Does that seem odd to anyone else? We're still seeing letters about Raid on Graymalkin and Chuck Hunt, all answered by TB. If I was writing anything and the editor was handling the forward-facing fan interaction in a book with my name on it I'd be like 'all due respect but what's the deal here? Maybe stay in your lane.' He is the 'conductor of x' but this feels like clearing the orchestra to be applauded solo. I admit I'm super biased against him but it really sticks out to me.

Thanks for reading and much love! 💓

[patchworkcuddlebug]

The Sorry Doll

Witches are the most powerful creatures a doll could conceive of. They hold complete mastery over magic, whatever that may be, to build life itself anew. A mere doll could never imagine the depths of power you hold, let alone comprehend it. Just as you designed them.

Your doll returns from your errand. Just as you commanded, the thing sets your supplies beside your writing desk, leaving you be. It is unconcerned with what you are writing, as a good doll should. It is simply obedient, following-

"Miss?" It asks with hesitance. Its body is still, head tilted curiously.

You set the quill back into its ink, letting the raw mana spill from the pages as you turn your attention towards your creation. You lean forward, tersely entertaining it. "Yes, Luna?"

It freezes for a moment, just as a good doll should.

"Could this one... ever become a witch?"

You falter. Your persona of disconnected elegance bursts into a smirk, barely holding back a condescending giggle.

Your spirits wane. That thing isn't laughing with you. It's serious.

You muster a scowl, and your doll flinches, as a good doll should. You bore into its facsimile of an expression, and just as the doll begins to consider stepping back, you invoke it. Your voice is calm, no hint of emotion, yet it rattles the walls, bellowing throughout the manner.

"Kneel."

You hear a crunch as the doll's knees hit the hardwood of your study. Such an inconsiderate toy. It tries to keep its eyes steadily locked onto you in anticipation, as a good doll should, but you can see the fear making it shake. "This one is very sorry Miss," is quickly shakes out. Like a child reciting a script. "This one will nev-"

You quiet it with a gentle touch to its chest. The doll tries to squeak out more, to grovel as a good doll should, but the magic flowing into it freezes it in a twisted perversion of stillness. "Not yet you're not." you taunt, watching the doll's face try to contort as it feels the magic touch its core.

This one's purpose is to serve. To be obedient to you and you alone. To follow any task as best it can, fulfilling every whim and leaving no detail untended.

This one's purpose is to beg for forgiveness.

The doll gasps for air as your magic returns to you, some useless instinct from its time as a person. It falls into its hands, at first gagging, then sobbing.

"This one is very, very sorry, Miss." A breath deeper than it should be, trying to steady its voice. "This one could never hope to be a witch, it was a very bad doll to bother you with something so foolish. Please, if you could ever find it in your heart to forgive this one, it would do anything to earn it from you."

You recline and smile, satisfied with your work. This is your favourite way to play with your dolls. "I'll consider it." It looks up to you, tears leaving barely-there streaks down its porcelain, almost daring to smile. "But only if you pluck all the grass in the yard."

"Thank you, Miss!" It lowers it's head to the floor, before springing back up to its knees to bask in your mercy. "Thank you, thank you! You won't regret this, this one will do perfectly, it promises!" It clambers to its feet and rushes out of the door, finally leaving you alone. 

Over the next few days, you watch it slowly pluck every blade of grass out of your yard, one at a time. Sometimes it collapses through the night, but the other dolls are kind enough to wake it and allow it to continue repenting, just as good dolls should.

At some point, it figured out to use bags to collect the plucked grass, before you made it apologize for wasting materials on its selfish penance. It was a cute spectacle. When you found out, it acted as if it was caught stealing, before you could even explain why it shouldn't. This is why it's one of your favourite dolls, it's always so eager.

You grow bored of the spectacle once it begins to make progress in your back yard. "You're forgiven." You say in a huff, reverting it to it's more useful nature. The doll turns from the grass, giving you some look that you don't recognize on a doll. "Now go make me some tea, would you?"

The expression, whatever it was, fades into a docile neutrality. "Yes Miss, right away Miss.". And so it leaves, fulfilling its purpose, just as a good doll should.

[blueikeproductions]

The Matrix of Leadership is pry one of the most important aspects of Transformers, that it was pivotal in TFONE…

Buuut as usual these things don’t have a straight path.

The Matrix didn’t appear in the cartoon until the original animated movie, with its purpose largely being to destroy Unicron. Naturally the movie never really explained why we never saw the Matrix before or what it truly is. The succeeding third season would establish it as a very ancient relic with surprisingly mystical qualities that conflicts somewhat with the mechanical characters we follow.

Most of what we know is all past Autobot leaders had carried it up until Rodimus Prime, and that it’s potent enough to kill Unicron. Why it affected Unicron is never explained, but the Primacron episode would show the Matrix escaping the dead body of Primacron’s ape-bot assistant.

Which is confusing as the story suggests this wasn’t supposed to BE the Matrix, but a separate entity that would later summon Grimlock and the other Beast Mode Transformers to fight Unicron’s successor, Tornedron.

The Matrix’s final feat in the original cartoon was to vanquish the Hate Plague as its eons long accumulated wisdom was more than enough to cancel out the rage affecting the galaxy.

The funny thing is the Matrix wasn’t even part of the original scripts for the 80’s movie, which instead had Optimus’ “Life Spark” be the object passed down, upgrading Magnus to Ultra Magnus and ultimately be unleashed inside Unicron to kill him.

Megatron’s Life Spark was also a plot point originally, in that it was supposed to be entombed in the Decepticon crypt on Cybertron, but Megatron’s Spark and the Sparks of other dead Decepticons would be released accidentally, where these ethereal beings would come across Unicron who would instead encase them in new bodies as Galvatron and company.

The Matrix originally was featured in Marvel G1, a “Primal Program” housed in the current leader of the Autobots that allows them to bestow life on new Transformers. This was to explain how the Transformers reproduce in the absence of doing it the human way as the race (originally) wasn’t intended to have female characters.

Eventually the comics would retcon it that the Creation Matrix had a physical form similar to the cartoon, with the Matrix described as being the life force of Primus itself passed down to his creations.

This version of the Matrix would be transferred into Buster Witwicky’s brain by Optimus in an attempt to keep it away from Shockwave, which would temporarily give Buster Lawnmower Man like mastery over other machines, to the point he was able to disassemble (a non living) Decepticon Jetfire with his mind.

Buster, after Shockwave was defeated, was able to return the Matrix back to Optimus, with this concept loosely adapted in RotF years later when Sam Witwicky would be given the power of the Allspark in his brain by accident. Later the Matrix would need to be found once more, as the Autobots sent Optimus’ dead body to space, not realizing the Matrix still physically existed in him evidently, kick starting the Matrix Quest. The Matrix would be tainted by Thunderwing, creating the Dark Matrix Creature that served as the final antagonist of Re: Generation One, but the Matrix otherwise would be purified by Optimus and used to destroy Unicron.

G2 would see the Matrix restored, and later abused by Starscream briefly, while ReGen One would ignore this, instead having the Matrix completely gone…. Until Hot Rod was able to get an intact copy from another universe and evolve to Rodimus Prime. Yea it’s convoluted but this is Transformers, it’s always kinda convoluted.

After this the Matrix stopped having a major influenced for awhile, though the Japanese Beast Wars era would introduce the Energon Matrix, a personalized Matrix unique to different Maximal leaders from Optimus Primal, Lio Convoy, Big Convoy and Fire Convoy.

Other series like the Unicron Trilogy would include the Matrix, but it was just kind of there, mostly included just because G1 included it. The Matrix would instead become more of a religious concept during Beast Wars, and later become Transformers heaven in Beast Machines, and while it didn’t exist in Animated, the Allspark would later be contained in a container resembling the G1 Matrix.

Because of the life giving Allspark introduced in the Bay films, the Matrix, along with Vector Sigma, became somewhat redundant, with this being a problem Hasbro and other creatives haven’t been able to properly adapt. The Allspark became a sort of catch all for wisdom and life baring abilities the other two relics were known for, though modern media, albeit not successfully, has tried to make each relic distinct. Vector Sigma in Prime would be a repository of wisdom, while the Matrix was merely the symbol of leadership passed down by Primus to various leaders. Confusingly the Matrix would still display some holy power filled with wisdom, as using it shut down Unicron, but reset Optimus back to Orion. Vector Sigma’s back up data was necessary to reboot Orion into Optimus again… Cyberverse would see Vector Sigma and the Allspark used in conjunction in creating life, while the Matrix was a repository of wisdom from the past Primes as before, but its power could also be used by Megatron and Megatron X, showing the writers’ favoritism towards the Decepticons when they shouldn’t be able to be use it otherwise.

IDW would bring back the Matrix more prominently, but rapidly downplay its mystical nature to the point it was practically described as an advanced light up toy, and could easily be replaced with a fake or have multiple versions be created by Rung’s gizmo mode.

It still held religious significance and was thought to be part of Solomus, the god of Wisdom.

Tyrest would be revealed to be Solomus, so uh… take that as you will.

It’s not clear if Tyrest ever held the Matrix, but in his civilian life, he did work with it, being tasked with extracting life energy from it to make new Sparks after the life giving Hot Spots on Cybertron began to fade. This started the Constructed Cold Transformers, robots whose Sparks were housed in pre-built bodies rather than emerging from the metal of Cybertron naturally. Tyrest would later come to believe the Cold born Transformers were evil and try to kill them all, yeah wisdom my actuator.

After various trials and tribulations, the original IDW Matrix would be split in half, one half claimed by Rodimus the other Optimus, with each one being destroyed in order to fix a problem of the hour. Optimus’ half survived longer, being used as a means to sway the religious colony worlds into Optimus’ goals to have a Council of Worlds, Earth among them.

Despite downplaying the mystical nature, sometimes it would crop up to somewhat demean Optimus, implying he wasn’t worthy of it. Optimus would complain having the Matrix hurt him, while Rodimus instead felt like he just harmed the power of the Chaos Emeralds. The Matrix also temporarily was held by Thunderclash, and had to be surgically removed from his chest because apparently the Matrix didn’t want to leave Thunderclash.

SkyBound seems to meet in the middle, having some general rules with its Matrix, but not being embarrassed by its mystical nature like IDW was.

This Matrix seems to be more of an advanced machinery that has a finite power source, and while it can heal, it can’t reactivate the dead. It is tied to the barer’s life force, and exerting too much energy can kill the barer. Optimus’ selflessness saw him wanting to use what power was left to revive all the Autobots, but when talked out of it, he instead used the power to reactivate the Decepticon damaged hospital Spike was recovering in. Later when Sparkplug merged with the Matrix by unexplained means, the Matrix was re-energized, but also caused Optimus to be given flashes of Sparkplug’s memories and trauma, often seeing a memory of Spike as a baby, one that became increasingly distorted (a fan theory as of typing connected it as a side effect of wearing Megatron’s arm) when Optimus was pushed to his limit and killed Shockwave, and later, possibly due to Sparkplug’s PTSD from his own war, accidentally blew up a tank when the Autobots tried to respond to a Decepticon attack on another city.

Who originally bore the Matrix differs from series to series… Japanese media would try to expand on it in modern manga borrowing ideas from the 80’s cartoon and Beast Wars where appropriate.

The Matrix was originally owned by a survivor of the Big Bang, Primacron, who sealed his master Primus within to use his godly power to bestow life to his robots, eventually creating Unicron. The Matrix would escape and later bestow organic life to a barren planet, but early Quintessons would discover this planet and reformat it into Cybertron. The Quintesson leader of the era was the first leader to bare the Matrix, the being the 80’s cartoon would only describe as “It”.

Netflix War of Cybertron would state Alpha Trion was the first recorded barer of the Matrix, contradicting modern lore which states Prima, who originated from Marvel G1, was the first inheritor of the Matrix.

The modern lore with Prima was contradicted again in One, where Zeta Prime originally held the Matrix.

Who holds the Matrix before Optimus isn’t really nailed down as much as Hasbro wants it to be, as their intended idea is that the Matrix was originally part of the Star Saber, adorning its hilt, but the cartoons and comics tend to be a bit more resistant to this, preferring to to their own direction. Other leaders post Rodimus tend to not have the Matrix either, with Star Saber, Fortress Maximus, Ginrai, Dai Atlas, and RiD15 Bumblebee not using it.

Other Matrix variants are shown to exist here and there, most unusual is a Sharkticon Matrix briefly held by Megatron in Aligned media, and a Mini-Con Matrix held by Over-Run in the Dreamwave Armada comics. A Decepticon Matrix was said to exist in the G1 cartoon, but while it was a fib by the Quintessons to trick Galvatron into their servitude, an actual Decepticon Matrix probably DOES exist somewhere given all the variants I haven’t mentioned for simplicity.

Who can wield the Matrix varies, but for the most part it’s a heroic paragon of justice, hope, and goodness like Optimus who is considered worthy to use it. Hot Rod would also be shown to possess these qualities as would Optimus Primal, all being able to open up and use the Matrix. Ultra Magnus was unable to open it, with him even having to adjust the relic to better fit into his chest. Decepticons, according to the old cartoon, can’t use it. Galvatron tried to both open it and install it as a power source for his cannon and was unable to do so. Scourge and Starscream experienced mutations that did make them powerful when they installed the relic… but had side effects. Scourge was in inconstant pain (possibly, but never confirmed, to be the ancient Autobots retaliating when the Matrix wasn’t returned to Rodimus), while Starscream was instead slowly turning good by the Matrix’s divine power, something the jet was repulsed enough by to surrender the relic, as he loved being a dick.

The Cyberverse Matrix seemed more open minded to Megatron and Megatron X for some reason, despite their own atrocities, with the show implying Optimus wasn’t worthy. Remember kids, villain worship to this extent is unhealthy. Megatron being able to use the Matrix misses the point, something TFONE fixes. When the greedy Sentinel made a grab for the Matrix, it evaporated in front of him, only later reforming when Orion proved worthy of it. This version also attempts to be both a symbol of leadership and a life giving relic, as it controls the flow of Energon on Cybertron. What this means when Optimus goes to Earth has yet, if ever, to be explored…

The long and short of it is the Matrix typically is just an ancient ball that’s a symbol of leadership that occasionally can grant life depending on the demands of a particular story. The only object that’s similar in reverence is the Animated exclusive Magnus Hammer, with it able to generate intense storms and tremors by its user, but is carried around like Thor’s Hammer (never been shown if they need to swing throw it to fly with it tho’).

[viviennemaeve]

𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞. 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐝. 𝐄𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞. 🔥

Hello, loves. I'm Vivienne Maeve. ✨

Welcome to your ultimate blueprint for stepping into the most magnetic, powerful version of yourself. This is more than just a space—it’s a movement. A revolution of self-worth, ambition, and unapologetic confidence.

Here, we don’t wait for opportunities. We create them.We don’t just dream—we become. This is where we rewrite the script, step into our power, and sculpt the life we were always meant to live.

Together, we’re unlocking the mindset shifts, strategies, and secrets to becoming the star of our own story. This isn’t just about leveling up—it’s about designing a life so extraordinary that it feels like pure magic. Because let’s be real: it’s all within reach.

Together, we’re unlocking the mindset shifts, strategies, and unshakable confidence it takes to turn our biggest fantasies into tangible reality. This isn’t just about leveling up—it’s about creating a life so extraordinary it feels like a movie. A life where we don’t just exist, but thrive, radiate, and unapologetically own our power.

Consider this your go-to guide for self-discovery, confidence, manifestation, and embodying the main character energy you were born for. Because you deserve it. We deserve it. And the world? It’s about to witness our rise.

To understand more about why this page was created and more about me read 𝔸𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕞𝕖-

✧ Glow-Up Transformations & Foundations ✧

First Steps To A Glow Up

A guide to laying the foundation for a personal transformation. Covers mindset shifts, self-care basics, and the power of small, consistent changes.

The Inside Out Glow-Up

Shifts the focus from external transformation to inner healing. Talks about emotional intelligence, self-love, and deep-rooted confidence as the true markers of a glow-up.

Glow-Up Beyond The Surface

The blog covers glow-ups beyond looks, focusing on self-love, mindset shifts, and emotional healing for true transformation.

✧ Mindset & Confidence ✧

Reprogram Your Mind

Breaks down how to dismantle limiting beliefs, shift your mindset, and rewire your brain for self-assurance. A deep dive into mental conditioning and self-concept work.

Serotonin & Shadows

Explores the balance between light and darkness in personal growth. Talks about shadow work, self-sabotage, and finding happiness by embracing all parts of yourself.

Mind and Body Alchemy

This blog is a witty guide to syncing mind and body, turning self-care into a lifestyle. It encourages balance, self-awareness, and romanticizing the basics to make well-being effortless.

✧ Identity & Reinvention ✧

Alter Egos & Second Selves

Explores the concept of creating alternate versions of yourself for self-reinvention. Discusses how personas can help unlock confidence, ambition, and new ways of thinking.

A Chaotic Masterpiece

A raw, unfiltered look at personal growth—embracing chaos, mistakes, and uncertainty as necessary parts of evolution. Focuses on self-acceptance and reinvention.

Killing Through Chaos

It’s about owning your chaos, spinning the breakdown into a power move, and controlling the narrative even when everything’s falling apart.

✧ Spirituality & Energy Work ✧

A Journey Into the Unknown

Delves into spiritual awakening through Kundalini energy, chakra alignment, and energetic self-mastery. A mix of esoteric wisdom and practical steps.

Unlocking the Universe’s Magic

a beginner’s guide to crystals, tarot, and full moon rituals, teaching you how to cleanse, use, and harness their energy for manifestation and self-discovery.

✧ The Raw and The Real ✧

• The soft girl reality check

A tender guide to embracing stretch marks and cellulite—real skin, real beauty.

• Back acne and Body texture

Backne and body texture are more common than you think, and way less shameful than you’ve been told. This guide blends skincare solutions with self-love so you can heal without hating your reflection.

• A Raw Dive Into Body Image

This blog dives deep into the messy, emotional, and healing journey of body image—It’s a raw, empowering reminder that your body isn’t a trend, it’s your home—and you deserve to live in it fully, unapologetically.

And So the Journey Begins… ✨

Transformation isn’t a destination—it’s an evolution. Whether you're stepping into your alter ego, rewiring your mindset, or diving into energy work, every post here is a stepping stone to your highest self. Keep exploring, keep evolving, and most importantly—keep creating your own masterpiece.

More to come, always. Stay tuned. ♡

[schizoidvision]

5 Signs You're Learning to Function as a Schizoid Without Burning Out

Many people with schizoid traits gradually come to realize that functioning in a world driven by social expectations, emotional availability, and constant interaction requires more from them than it does for others. While mainstream life encourages more visibility, more communication, and more emotional labor, schizoids often adopt an opposite strategy: doing less, but doing it deliberately. Over time, some of us develop sustainable ways to function that don't push us into emotional fatigue or sensory overload.

Here are five signs you're learning to function as a schizoid without burning out:

1. You Prioritize Solitude Without Guilt Instead of forcing yourself to be more social or emotionally available, you start protecting your solitude like it's oxygen. It’s no longer something you justify or feel bad about... it’s a necessary part of your functional strategy. You may block out parts of the day or week that are non-negotiable alone time, knowing that without it, your internal world becomes compromised.

2. You Set Boundaries Without Needing to Explain One of the clearest signs of growth is when you stop overexplaining your distance. Whether it’s saying no to a call, stepping out of a group setting, or choosing not to disclose emotional content, you begin to hold your boundaries as valid... whether others understand or not. This isn’t defensiveness. It’s efficiency. You’re not trying to be misunderstood; you’re managing energy for survival.

3. You Choose Functional Roles Over Social Ones Rather than striving to be liked or seen as friendly, you aim for clarity and efficiency. Roles that allow you to contribute meaningfully while keeping interpersonal demand low become preferable. You might gravitate toward jobs, routines, or even domestic arrangements that allow for structure, solitude, and minimal emotional labor. You still show up... you just stop pretending to be someone else when you do.

4. You Create Mental Scripts to Minimize Energy Drain Social interactions that once felt unpredictable start to become manageable because you build internal scripts. Whether it's pre-planned responses, patterned conversation formats, or exit phrases, you develop methods for keeping social engagement short and contained. This isn't manipulation... it's a form of pacing. Predictability means you use less mental bandwidth, leaving more room for your actual interests and thoughts.

5. You Accept Emotional Distance as a Constant, Not a Problem Rather than trying to fix your lack of emotional expressiveness or feeling "broken" because of your detachment, you start to see it for what it is: a stable baseline. Emotional distance isn't emptiness. It's structure. You learn that your range of experience is valid, even if it doesn't match external norms. This allows you to stop chasing emotional access that might never feel organic, and instead, to work with the range you have.

Summary... Functioning with schizoid traits doesn’t mean trying to become more like everyone else. It means learning to recognize how you operate, and making deliberate choices that protect your inner world while allowing you to survive the outer one. Budgeting energy, protecting solitude, and avoiding unnecessary emotional strain aren’t avoidance patterns... they’re signs of mastery.

Some people might not understand why you move the way you do. But for those of us on the schizoid spectrum, these adjustments can mean the difference between burning out and building a life that’s actually livable.

Schizoid Education Videos

[axyldr]

𝓚AIO’S ᥫ᭡ 𝓡EALITIES !

. . . ☁️

‘i have a life to garden & a multiverse to wake from sleep’

𝓚AIO’S MAIN MULTIVERSES . . .

ꨄ 1999 HOGWARTS PROFESSOR DR. (main) — j otto rayn rosier is the newest teacher at hogwarts after the war ! they are a magizoologist with a mastery in herbology — teaching herbology in the castle, both to the younger students & in the university. they live in the castle + spend a lot of time walking around when they’re not teaching. ( s/o : severus snape - slowburn ! )

ꨄ 2008 SCREENWRITER / FAME DR. — ezekiel rickman is a up and coming screenwriter + freelance film editor in the industry. they have had a lot of experience in the movie industry & have helped to write the scripts of several popular films such as twilight & spiderwick chronicles ! their name is well known in the industry , both for their achievements but also for their husbands as well. ( s/o : alan rickman - married ! )

ꨄ 2025 SMALL TOWN DR. (main) — kasper jaimie samson works in a small bookshop, with a older couple working to maintain & run the store for them ! they deal with the freelance social media side of the store as well as the selling of books. in their spare time, they like to explore the village with their best friends partner - leonora, in their fox forms. there is a lot of freedom here. ( s/o : severus snape - married now ! )

ꨄ 2008 CRIMINAL MINDS DR. — j otto carter is the youngest fbi analytical technician that works in the bau unit , with penelope garcia. they are working to be a field agent , but mostly stay in office at this time. they transferred from new york -> quantico at the request of erin strauss. the bau is very different to the new york unit . . . ( s/o : aaron hotchner, spencer reid - oblivious lovers )

ꨄ 1990'S MODERN MARAUDERS DR. — j otto rosier works part time in the village bookshop, with remus, often volunteering there after hours as well. they help to sell books, but are also in charge of social media for the store - where remus just sells the books. when they are not working, they spend time exploring the village together with their boyfriends. ( s/o : james potter, remus lupin, sirius black - found family )

my other realities ( that i will introduce later on )

art heist baby dr, heartbreak high dr, berlin angel dr, big hero 6 dr, super mario x pokemon dr, parenthood dr, twitch streamer dr, golden trio uni dr, marauders uni dr, avengers dr, better cr dr, school of good and evil dr, casualty dr, hawkins dr, a good girls guide to murder dr, concert fame dr, how to train your dragon dr, hundred acre wood dr, ideal reality dr, pixie hallow, five nights at freddys, twisters !! & probably more to come . . .

blog post last changed — february 2025 | ©️axyldr

[crescencestudio]

๋࣭⭑ Devlog #46 | 2.25.25 ๋࣭⭑

Holy shit it's already March

Hello everyone! We are back in HERE. Our first proper devlog in a while uwu. These first couple of months have been a lot of catching up on work, getting back into the swing of things, and making progress on as much as we can for a strong start to the year \o/

But first...

Happy Valentine's Day to anyone who missed it!

Kuna'a has been somewhat of our poster child for Valentine's Day throughout the years, so I only thought it right to give them an updated art piece to celebrate this year. Now let's get into the devlog!

The writing portion of Alaris has become a bit like taking turns revolving a rotisserie chicken FLASDJ. I work on the draft, Wudgey and Elm work on developmental edits, Allie works on line edits, and so on.

This month was no different. While I wrapped up Kuna'a's route and started Aisa's route (the last route OUGHHH), Wudgey worked on Etza and a little bit of Kuna'a's route, and Allie worked on line edits for Druk's route. So in exciting news, we finished developmental edits for Etza's route and line edits for Druk's route!

As I mentioned before, having the routes reach different stages of editing means they are nearing different percentages of completion. With where everything's at right now, I'd say the script is looking like this:

Kayn's Route: 100%

Fenir's Route: 100%

Druk's Route: 100%

Etza's Route: 90%

Kuna'a's Route: 70%

Aisa's Route: 25%

So we are getting there!!! Slowly but surely!!!

On the art front, I've mostly been brushing up on my skills to be honest. I didn't want to jump right into CGs after being away from art for so long, so I used this past month to draw things like doodles and other small pieces of art. Thankfully, I've been happy with how it's been coming out!

While this isn't Alaris related, it is Crescence art related, and I'm thankful my art didn't completely deteriorate in the couple of months I was away lfmasldijfal

everyone needs an annoying hitman boyfriend

We also of course had this doodle courtesy of our local Druk tit truther anon as well as the Kuna'a Valentine post!

Druk tit truthers RISE!

Apart from me brushing up on my art skills, I've also been working with bestie @saffein-e on character concept art! While I haven't gotten around to drawing these characters' sprites, from the concept art alone, I think you'll all really like their designs nyehe. I'm not always good at coming up with more intricate character designs, so Saf has been doing the lord's work helping me out with these side characters <3

In other news, Alaris was in the Storyteller's Fest on Steam! It's always exciting when this festival comes around since it's such a celebration in visual novels and other story-driven games ^^

YIPPEE!!!

Whenever the Festival has come around, I'm usually just a little behind in preparing whatever I wanted for it. Two years ago, it was the OG demo, and last year, it was the Enhanced Demo. This year, we finally got to submit and got accepted, so it was an exciting time for us! And because of it, we were able to reach over 9k wishlists, which was super cool \o/

I've seen people say that normally you want to aim for 7k wishlists when you release your full game. So I'm really happy with the reception and where Alaris is at as we prepare for a full release this year ^^

In other news, we also turned Crescence Studio into an official little local business!! WRAOW!!! This has been a while in the making, especially since I'm just one little guy and am completely new to all of this. But we were able to Lock In this month and get the paperwork approved and submitted. It's still a bit weird and confusing, but exciting all the same to be able to say Crescence Studio is an official little business!!

I haven't been able to do much market research. The main exception is Trail of Stars by @endys

In general, I always recommend Endysis works. Their writing and mastery of mood are so inspiring ;_; While I wasn't able to create fanart for their recent game, I still wanted to mention it!!

I also collabed on a recent release with Yinny! If you haven't had the chance to check it out yet, I'm pretty proud of the art in it c:

Anyways, that's enough for this devlog! Not too many things I can show/share, but I think it was a really important month for getting back into the swing of things \o/ Until next month! Stay safe everyone <3