#gold price increased

[kohisama03]

gold price .....

[political-depth]

The Factors Driving the Gold Price to New Highs: An Analysis

[hmatrading]

Unlock the power of gold with our comprehensive Gold Rate Forecast! As one of the most sought-after commodities, gold has captivated investors and enthusiasts alike for centuries. Its value is influenced by a myriad of factors, making it essential to stay informed about its fluctuating rates.

[rsblinn]

Gold prices at 3-month high - Should you buy?

Gold Rate Today: Gold prices in the international market on Thursday, December 1, hit a three-month high amid strong global trends. Gold was trading higher at USD 1,778.6 per ounce while silver was up at USD 22.25 per ounce to trade at a seventh-month high.

[best24news]

Gold Rate update: त्यौहारों का सीजन शुरू होते ही सोने चांदी के बढे दाम, जानिए लेटेस्ट रेट

Gold Rate update: त्यौहारों का सीजन शुरू होते ही सोने चांदी के बढे दाम, जानिए लेटेस्ट रेट

दिल्ली: त्यौहारों का सीजन शुरू होते ही सोने की कीमतो में उछाल शुरू हो गया है,जबकि पिछले छह माह से इसके रेट गिर रह थे। आज यानि 6 अक्टूबर को सोना के भाव में उछाल देखने को मिला है. मल्‍टी कमोडिटी एक्‍सचेंज (MCX) पर सोने का भाव शुरुआती कारोबार में 0.44 प्रतिशत बढ़ा है. सोने के साथ ही चांदी में भी तेजी दर्ज की गई है और यह वायदा बाजार में 1.24 फीसदी उछली है. Haryana Land Acquisition: चार गांवो के किसानो…

[dailyrothko]

No, the Popularity of Abstract Art is Not the Result of a CIA PsyOp

If you are unlucky enough to move around the internet these days and talk about art, you’ll find that many “First commenters” will hit you with what they see as some hard truth about your taste in art. Comments usually start with how modern art is “money laundering” always comically misunderstanding what that means. What they are saying is that, of course, rich people use investments as tax shelters and things like expensive antiques and art appraised at high prices to increase their net worth. Oh my god, I’ve been red-pilled. The rich getting richer? I have never heard of such a thing.

What is conveniently left out of this type of comment is that the same valuation and financial shenanigans occur with baseball cards, wine, vacation homes, guitars, and dozens of other things. It does indeed happen with art, but even the kind that the most conservative internet curator can appreciate. After all, Rembrandts are worth money too, you just don’t see many because he’s not making any more of them. The only appropriate response to these people who are, almost inevitably themselves, the worst artists you have ever seen, is silence. It would cruel to ask about their own art because there’s a danger they might actually enjoy such a truly novel experience.

When you are done shaking your head that you just subjected yourself to an argument about the venality of poor artists plotting to make their work valuable after they died, you can certainly then enjoy the accompanying felicity of the revelation they have saved to knock you off your feet: “Abstract art is a CIA PsyOp”

Here one must get ready either to type a lot or to simply say “Except factually” and go along your merry, abstract-art-loving way. But what are the facts? Unsurprisingly with things involving US government covert operations, the facts are not so clear.

Like everything on the internet, you are unlikely to find factual roots to the arguments about government conspiracies and modern art. The mere idea of it is enough to bring blossom for the “I’m not a sheep” crowd, some of whom believe that a gold toilet owning former president is a morally good, honest hard-working man of the people.

The roots of this contention come from a 1973 article in Artforum magazine, where art critic Max Kozloff wrote about post-war American painting in the context of the Cold War, centering around Irving Sandler’s book, The Triumph of American Painting (1970). Kozloff takes on more than just abstract expressionism in his article but condemns the “Self-congratulatory mood”of Sandler’s book and goes on to suggest the rise of abstract expressionism was a “Benevolent form of propaganda”. Kozoloff treads a difficult line here, asserting that abstraction was genuinely important to American art but that its luminaries, “have acquired their present blue-chip status partly through elements in their work that affirm our most recognizable norms and mores.”

While there were rumblings of agreements around Kozloff’s article of broad concerns, it did not give birth to an actual conspiracy theory at the time. The real public apprehension of this idea seems to mostly come from articles written by historian Frances Stonor Saunders in support of her book, “The Cultural Cold War: The CIA and the World of Arts and Letters” (New York, New Press, 2000). (I have not read this 525 page book, only excerpts).

The gist of Ms. Saunders argument is a tantalizing, but mostly unsupported, labyrinthine maze of back door funding and novelistic cloak and dagger deals. According to Saunders, the Congress for Cultural Freedom (CCF), an anti-communist cultural organization founded in 1950, was behind the promotion of Abstract art as part of their effort to be opinion makers in the war against communism. In 1966 it was revealed that the CCF was funded by the CIA. Saunders says that the CCF financed a litany of art exhibitions including “The New American Painting” which toured Europe in the late 1950s. Some of this is true, but it’s difficult, if not impossible, to know the specifics.

Noted expert in abstract-expressionism, David Anfam said CIA presence was real. It was “a well-documented fact” that the CIA co-opted Abstract Expressionism in their propaganda war against Russia. “Even The New American Painting [exhibition] had some CIA funding behind it,” he says. But the reasons for this are not quite what the abstract art detractors might be looking for. After all, the CCF also funded the travel expenses for the Boston Symphony Orchestra and promoted Fodor’s travel guides. More than trying to pull the wool over anyone’s eyes, it was meant to showcase the freedom artists in the US. enjoyed. Or as Anfam goes on to say, “It’s a very shrewd and cynical strategy, because it showed that you could do whatever you liked in America.”

For what it’s worth, Saunders’s book was eviscerated in the Summer 2000 issue of Art Forum at the time of its publication. Robert Simon wrote:

“Saunders draws extensively on primary and secondary sources, focusing on the convoluted money trail as it twists through dummy corporations, front men, anonymous donors, and phony fund-raising events aimed at filling the CCF’s coffers. She makes lengthy forays into such topics as McCarthyism, the formation and operation of the CIA, the propaganda work of the Hollywood film industry, and New York cultural politics—from Partisan Review to MoMA to Abstract Expressionism. Yet what seems strangely absent from Saunders’s panoramic history, as if it were a minor detail or something too obvious to require discussion, is the cultural object itself: The complex specifics of the texts, exhibitions, intellectual gatherings, paintings, and performances of the culture war are largely left out of the story.”

Another problem with the book seems to be that Saunders is an historian but not an art historian. For me, I sensed an overtone of superiority in the tale she’s spinning and most assuredly from those that repeat its conclusion. The thinly veiled message of some is that if it were “Real art” it would not have had be part of this government subterfuge. The reality is very different. For one thing, most of us know it is simply not true that you can make people devoted to a type of art for 100 years that they would sensibly hate otherwise. Another issue is that it’s quite obvious none of the artists actually knew about any government interference if there was any. Pollock, Rothko, Gottlieb and Newmann were all either communists or anarchists. Hardly the group one would recruit the help the US government free the world of communism. Additionally, this narrow cold war timeline ignores a huge amount of abstract art that Jackson Pollock haters also revile and consider part of the same hijacking of high (Frankly, Greek, Roman, or Renaissance) culture. If you look at the highly abstract signature work of Piet Mondrian and observe the dates they were painted, you’ll see 1908, 1914, 1916. This is some of the art denigrated as a CIA PsyOP, 35 years before the CIA even thought about it. Modern art didn’t come from nowhere as many would have you believe to discredit its rise. There was Surrealism, Dada, Bauhaus, Russian futurism and a host of other movements that fueled it.

Generally, people like to argue. On the internet, “I don’t like this” is a weak statement that always must be replaced by “This is garbage” or my favorite, “This is fake.”

It’s hardly surprising that the more conservative factions of our society look for any government involvement in our lives to explain why things are not exactly as they wish them to be, given the (highly ironic) conservative government-blaming that blew up after Reagan. In addition, modern fascists have always had a love affair with the classical fantasy of Greece and Rome. Both Mussolini and Hitler used Greece and Rome as “Distant models” to address their uncertain national identity. The Nazis confiscated more than 5,000 works in German museums, presenting 650 of them in the Entartete Kunst (Degenerate Art, 1937) show to demonstrate the perverted nature of modern art. It featured artists including Marc Chagall, Max Ernst, Wassily Kandinsky, and Paul Klee, among others. The fear of art was real. It was the fear of ideas.

To a lot of people on the internet just the mentioning a “CIA program” is enough to get the cogs turning, but as with many things, the reality of CIA programs and government plots is often less than evidence of well planned coup.

The CIA reportedly spent 20 millions dollars on Operation Acoustic Kitty which intended to use cats to spy on the Kremlin and Soviet embassies. Microphones were planted on cats and plans were set in motion to get the cats to surreptitiously record important conversations. However, the CIA soon discovered that they were cats and not agreeable to any kind of regulation of their behavior.

As part of Operation Mongoose the CIA planned to undermine Castro's public image by putting thallium salts in his shoes, which would cause his beard to fall out, while he was on a trip outside Cuba. He was expected to leave his shoes outside his hotel room to be polished, at which point the salts would be administered. The plan was abandoned because Castro canceled the trip.

Regardless of your feelings on this subject or how much you believe abstract art benefited from government dollars, Saunders herself quotes in her book a CIA officer apparently involved in these “Long leash” influence operations. He says, “We wanted to unite all the people who were writers, who were musicians, who were artists, to demonstrate that the West and the United States was devoted to freedom of expression and to intellectual achievement, without any rigid barriers as to what you must write, and what you must say, and what you must do.” Hardly the Illuminati plot we were promised.

In 2016, Irving Sandler, author of the book that started Kozloff tirading in 1973, told Alastair Sooke of The Daily Telegraph, “There was absolutely no involvement of any government agency. I haven’t seen a single fact that indicates there was this kind of collusion. Surely, by now, something – anything – would have emerged. And isn’t it interesting that the federal government at the time considered Abstract Expressionism a Communist plot to undermine American society?”

This blog post contains information and quotes sourced from The Piper Played to Us All: Orchestrating the Cultural Cold War in the USA, Europe, and Latin America, Russell H. Bartley International Journal of Politics, Culture, and Society, Vol. 14, No. 3 (Spring, 2001), pp. 571-619 (49 pages) https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20161004-was-modern-art-a-weapon-of-the-cia https://brill.com/view/journals/fasc/8/2/article-p127_127.xml?language=en https://www.guggenheim-bilbao.eus/en/learn/schools/teachers-guides/the-dark-side-of-classicism https://www.artforum.com/features/american-painting-during-the-cold-war-212902/ https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/modern-art-was-cia-weapon-1578808.html https://www.artforum.com/columns/frances-stonor-saunders-162391/ https://www.artforum.com/features/abstract-expressionism-weapon-of-the-cold-war-214234/ Mark Rothko and the Development of American Modernism 1938-1948 Jonathan Harris, Oxford Art Journal, Vol. 11, No. 1 (1988), pp. 40-50 (11 pages)

[rodolfoparras]

The chain around your neck

Synopsis: In which Price finds himself enamored by a piece of jewelry

Pairing: John Price x Male reader

Cw: 18+, top male reader, dom male reader,

A/N: self indulgent sooo self indulgent, and inspired by the chain Nikolai wears.

It was while basking in the afterglow of your recent endeavors that Price had decide to ask you about your necklace: sitting at the side of the bed, white sheet draped over his waist as shaky hands reached for the jewelry you always tend to wear. “Why do you wear it?”

The jewelry in question was a chunky gold chain, the same length as his forearm and lacking any pendants whatsoever.

There was nothing eye catching about it except for its size yet Price always seemed to have it on his mind.

It was so different to the dog tags he wore around his neck that served to identify his body amidst other fallen soldiers. The gold chain around your neck wasn’t a way to ensure you’d have a grave stone if you were to be put into the ground but rather a sentimental piece you carried with so much pride.

Each night you’d take it off before you went to bed and each time Price found himself glancing at the piece of jewelry glimmering on the nightstand, gaze trailing across each and every chain link until he faded away into dream land.

During long missions you’d have it tucked away somewhere in your shared closet, fearing it’ll get lost or stolen and Price couldn’t help but think how bare your neck looked without it, even with the dog tags still on you.

And whenever you’d have him pinned to the bed, he’d have the jewelry dangling over his face, brushing over his lips as you thrusted into him, clutching onto it as he inched closer to release or yanking on it to pull you in for a kiss, chilly metal pressing against his searing hot skin as he lay in your arms basking in the afterglow of his release.

Soon enough that very same piece of jewelry would be hanging from his very own neck as he works himself up and down your cock, chain links flailing wildly as he increases the pace of his hips, the weight of it serving to ground his body when his mind starts to feel afloat, cool metal laying flush between your bodies as he succumbs to slumber.

“No special reason,” you say, giving him a smile through the reflection of the mirror.

[biteofcherry]

Entwined

Leshy!Steve Rogers x female reader; Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: You enter the woods hoping to gain the ancient being's mercy and help. However, you hadn't expected how truly powerful he is, or what price he will ask of you.

*Leshy is a deity of the forests in Slavic mythology. He rules over the forest and hunting.

warnings: sort of monsterfucking (though Leshy isn't exactly a monster, more of an eldritch entity); consensual, with a slight dash of dub-con; tiny bit of manipulation; smut;

Author's Note: This is a story written for Aspen's (@buckets-and-trees) Enchanted Birthday Festival. Early happy birthday, love! ❤️ I've been toying with the idea of Leshy!Steve for a bit and Aspen's challenge was the perfect opportunity to work on it. Especially since she loves forests, plants and all things wild nature 💚 Also a special shout out to @vonalyn who listened to me ramble about the hotness of Leshy!Steve when the idea first came to mind!

“Are you willing to sacrifice?”

His voice echoed with the power of a booming wind, rattling your bones and swishing up your skirts.

The trees surrounding you seemed to grow out their branches, weaving into thick, green walls closing up. Sunlight, just moments ago filtering through the tree crowns, had disappeared; but the dots of luminescent fireflies flickered on, filling the space with a deceptively warm glow.

You looked around, seeking for a path, or entrance through which you might escape, if you chose to. There was none. Within seconds you found yourself trapped in the depths of the ancient forest, with a being whose mercy you came to beg for. 

When about an hour ago you stepped into the woods, you were bracing yourself for the sense of being watched, perhaps hunted. You haven’t considered how closely in contact with the powers of nature you’d come. 

Your steps never faltered as the soft carpet of juicy grass beneath your feet seemed to grow more resilient the deeper into the woods you went; green straws springing back from being crushed under your shoe. The further you went, however, the dewy emerald grew sparse, shrinking into rich soil scattered with shards of bark, little leaves and pillows of moss.

Rays of sunlight filtered through the branches, casting glowy direction into the sacred altar hidden in the belly of the wilderness. It felt so peaceful, so relaxing, that you’d gladly sink into the shades of green and speckles of gold. 

If not for the pounding of your worried heart, which knew that you were searching for more than reprieve. 

Had you known what awaited, you’d listen to your heart’s anxious patter and run away.

But you were determined. Though your grandma would probably call it simple stubbornness. 

You didn’t enter the woods to forage, nor to roam it to fill your soul with happiness. No, your feet carried you forward to face the greatest of dangers and beg for mercy.

Not only for yourself, but for the village and people who lived in fear, but still refused to abide by the ancient laws. Proud and focused on ways to increase wealth, they forgot there’s more in the world than just gold and war. 

Powers mightier than any army. Beings greater and more dangerous than any king. 

When wolves ripped to shreds one of the lumberjacks, everyone thought it to be a tragic accident. When two other people disappeared in the woods, never returning, others came up with ideas of them running away. Then a mother was seen screaming as wolves dragged her body into the forest. The child that followed, crying after its mum, disappeared. A day later a small fawn started prancing around the garden by the empty now household.

Still, people refused to bow to the entity that could be behind all of this, or at least held the power to end this madness. Or so you hoped. 

Having packed a big wicker basket of offerings - jars of golden honey, cheese wrapped in paper, strings of colorful beads and pearls, folded silk, dried exotic fruit you got from the market - you carried it deep into the woods, to place them on the long forgotten altar where your ancestors paid their respects to the guardian of the forest and nature.

Leshy.

You expected to find the ancient, stone altar, with a deformed statue overgrown with moss. The plan was to lay your offerings there, spend some time bowing down and praying for mercy, then returning to the clueless village.

For a few beats it went like that. The birds still chirped, leaves rustled softly in the wind, your offerings laid motionless on the slab of stone.

Then, suddenly, ivy vines weaved up, covering the stone and your produce in a thick cocoon. The earth rumbled and melted, swallowing the altar whole. 

Startled, you took a shaky step back and lost your balance, falling onto your butt. A split of a second when your gaze looked up at the darkening sky and when you returned it forward, he was already standing in front of you.  

Whenever you thought of Leshy, no particular image came to mind. You always thought the creature to be an entity beyond human imagination. 

He was that, but also… not.

He reminded a human man, but only at first glance. 

Much taller, with shoulders broader than the blacksmith’s (whom you always thought to be the biggest man alive). His complexion was fair, but the veins in his arms were jewel green. His hair and beard seemed cast from various shades of gold, intertwined with russet bronze and chestnut reddish. Delicate, tiny vines crawled up his cheeks and along his forehead; like intricate tattoos. 

From the thick mane of his silky looking hair sprouted majestic antlers. Thick and sturdy, their dark color with filaments of gold shining through. His eyes, when you met them, were a striking shade of blue-green. Rare and iridescent, like ponds bathed in the light of dawn. 

“It’s been a while since a human has come to me.” 

The entity’s voice was deep and low, both dangerous and soft, like a purr of a bear or a jungle cat. 

“Are you Leshy?” You swallowed nervously.

“I’ve been called that, yes.” When he grinned, amused, the filigree vines on his body glowed luminescent. 

“And you are?” He asked, courtly. 

When you whispered your name, he leaned forward, bending slightly and outstretching his hand for you to take. As you slipped your shaky fingers into his palm, you felt the pulsing warmth seep through you. It reminded you of the sun-heated earth beneath bare feet. 

As he helped you stand up, your gaze drifted up his body. You noticed that while most of his skin looked like any human’s flesh, a stripe along his left calf and thigh seemed textured like bark. A combination of moss and vines formed a fitting coverage around his narrow hips; yet you still caught the sight of a green vein slithering down his chiseled abdomen. 

More gold-glowing, floral-like tattoos appeared ingrained into the skin along his ribs. Skin on top of his right shoulder looked to be made of bark, just like on his leg. 

As much as he looked unworldly, you also found him majestic. 

Beautiful, as nature itself.

“Those who know me, call me Steve.” He said, holding your hand in his and not letting you step away. “It's a shortened and funnily deformed version of Svyatobor.” 

Lost in his eerie blue eyes, it took you a longer moment to realize what his name meant. 

Breath hitched in your chest, your pupils widened as you stared up at him. All this time you believed Leshy is a creature brought to life and given a purpose by a god. That’s what all the legends suggested. It didn’t occur to you, it's a deity itself.

A god of the forest.

After a moment of complete stupor, shock gave way to a flash of fear. You bowed your head and started to fall onto your knees, to pay proper respect. However, his hand still holding yours pulled you up.

“None of that is necessary.” He assured you. 

Though when you tipped your head up to look at him, Leshy’s gaze slid down your body in a slow, assessing study. 

“At least not in that sense,” he murmured, licking his lips. 

His eyes flicked back to yours. The stark blue pulsing with more green specks than before; as if his body came to life the same way nature sprung back as the snow melted away. 

You felt a rush of heat through your veins at the suggestive implication of his words.

“What have you come here for, little fern?” 

“To beg for mercy for my village.” Once again, you lowered your gaze. “People have been disappearing and being hurt. Swallowed by the forest or its creatures. I plead for no more blood to be spilled.”

Steve’s face betrayed no sign of irritation. For a split of a second you thought you saw a flash of sunlit amusement in his irises, but no mockery followed. He studied you for a long moment, not saying a word.

When he moved, it was slow and nonthreatening. You still startled, though perhaps it was at the loss of contact as his hand gently released your fingers. 

He walked over to where the ground swallowed the altar with your offerings. It was only then that you realized a thick carpet of clovers had filled the space where the table had been. Delicate leaves tilted toward Steve’s legs, brushing against him with the softest of rustles, as if they were purring for him.

“You brought me honey, which you poured out of the goodness of your heart. But don’t you know that our wild bees’ honey is sweeter?” Steve asked, walking barefoot through the small field of clovers back toward you. 

He stepped even closer this time and you felt the unique warmth radiating from him. A little stifling, like the humidity of the forest soaked in rain that was evaporating in the high summer sun.

It was making you dizzy in a very pleasant way.

“You gave me expensive fabrics, but nothing feels as soft and luxurious as petals of early spring’s flowers.” He circled you, like an animal may circle its prey. “None of your colorful beads shine as bright as drops of dew in the moonlight.” 

“I-” What were you supposed to say? You didn’t have much and what you gave away was a big sacrifice in terms of your day to day survival. 

You also didn’t think Leshy would be pleased, if you brought seasoned meat. He was, after all, a protector of wild animals. That sort of disrespect may have killed you on the spot.

Suddenly, you felt his hand brush along your waist. A light, fleeting touch, but enough to send a jolt down your spine.

“Moreover, you try to barter a single basket for dozens of lives.” Steve stopped in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” You lowered your head in shame, feeling the burning tears gather beneath your eyelids.

He was right and you didn’t think of that when you were packing your basket. It made you feel helpless, that you had nothing else to offer. 

“Don’t be.” Steve tilted your chin up with the pads of his fingertips. His gaze was soft, glinting sincerity.

“You still did more than any other human has for decades. I’m just pointing out that a life can be compared in cost to another life, nothing else. No riches equal a heartbeat.” 

You understood the value, agreed with it completely. But it made the situation look unsolvable. The fate of your village was doomed to go through horrors, since there was no other way to barter for it. 

Then you registered the warmth of Steve’s fingers still holding your chin. His thumb angled to rub along your lower lip. You were in the hands of a powerful deity. Steve may have appeared nonthreatening, but he was still an ancient entity demanding a sacrifice. 

No riches equal a heartbeat. You had a heartbeat. A rapidly fluttering one, at the moment; bouncing against the bars of your ribcage in fear of being ripped from it.

“You mean-” You swallowed a bile rising in your throat. “My life for theirs?”

You wanted to help your village, to help people in general. That need to care and nurture have always been so deeply ingrained in you. But you wanted to live! You wanted to experience feelings and wonders, joys and losses. You weren’t ready to meet the end so soon, so unexpectedly. The two needs - to help and to survive - were clashing in violence. 

Steve’s hand moved from your chin to cup your cheek. Since he was the only comfort available at the moment, you leaned into his touch. A soothing shush spilled from his lips as he caught your panicked gaze and locked it with his. 

“I’m not thirsty for blood, little fern.” He assured you. “I long for company.”

Somehow, looking into his eyes and sinking into the warmth his closeness provided, you felt the fear subsiding. Slowly, still leaving instinctive distrust, but it eased away.

“You want a friend?” You blinked, a little confused. 

Of course you understood what he meant the moment he said it, but a voice of reason wouldn’t accept the fact this beautiful, powerful being wanted to bed you. Out of all the things a deity may demand, fucking an unimpressive mortal like you shouldn’t be on the list. 

Steve laughed at your question, genuinely amused.

Instantly, choirs of birds joined his mirth in a tinkling melody that carried through the forest. 

“No.” Steve shook his head; smile-caused crinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes and the filigree vines along his skin curled. 

“I’ve got friends. You would meet them, if you stayed.” It surprised you, teasing your curiosity about what other beings roamed these forests. 

Your thoughts didn’t stay focused on the matter for long. Not when Steve’s hand slid down the column of your neck, his other arm weaving around your waist and pulling you close to his body. 

Very close. Even through the fabrics of your skirts and corset you felt the hard planes of his muscles against the softness of your body. Your hands landed on his chest, at first in an attempt to brace yourself to perhaps fight him off, but any force to push away dissipated. Instead, your fingertips were tingling. 

Steve’s breath teased your skin as he leaned down, trailing his lips along your jaw. 

“I want intimacy. Passion. And devotion.” He murmured, gripping the back of your neck as his other hand dipped lower to squeeze the flesh of your bottom. 

Abruptly, your whole body tensed and you gasped when something coiled around your ankles. Thin and tickling, possibly an ivy vine. It curled along your legs, reaching upwards. Teasing your skin with a brush of leaves and forcing your legs slightly apart.

Steve’s lips grazed the shell of your ear.

“I wish to splay you on the moss and have it soak up your sweet juices as I play with your pretty cunt.” 

You jerked in his embrace, but your core ignited. Heat pooled low in your abdomen, spreading down in a quick wave and filling your folds.  

“I want to stretch you on my cock and have you call me your god not out of fear, but the pleasure I give you.” The vines that weaved around your legs didn’t reach far up your thighs, but if they had, your wetness would coat the delicate leaves. 

“I want to fill you, until you bloom flowers and berries.” 

Breathing became hard as the images filled your head; though you doubted it was a trick of his, more your own imagination eagerly supplying possibilities Steve words enticed. 

When Steve unexpectedly released you and took a step back, you shivered as if you were dropped into a cold cave. Deprived of light and warmth.

He appeared more inhuman as he stretched to his full height and loomed over you. 

“Are you willing to sacrifice?” 

His voice echoed with the power of a booming wind, rattling your bones and swishing up your skirts.

The trees surrounding you seemed to grow out their branches, weaving into thick, green walls closing up. Sunlight, just moments ago filtering through the tree crowns, had disappeared; but the dots of luminescent fireflies flickered on, filling the space with a deceptively warm glow.

Shaken from the daze Steve’s proximity and dirty words have caused, you faced the deal he was proposing with a clearer mind. 

You’d be bound to the forest as long as Steve wanted to keep you, having to abandon your human life and plans. But you would be alive. And so would the villagers, some of whom were your friends. 

You chanced one more look at the wall of branches and vines, briefly wondering if he’d let you go had you refused. Probably. But it was uncertain what awaited your village, or any other, if you backed out. 

Taking a deep breath, you turned back to Steve. You gripped the fabric of your skirt to cover the nervous shaking of your fingers. 

“Yes,” the word rolled out on your tongue like a faint whisper, but he heard it. 

His eyes shimmered with tempting joy, like the reflection of sunlight on the rippling sheet of a lake. In a blink of an eye he was right in front of you, his hands on your hips.   

“I’ll be good to you, my little fern.” Tip of his nose nudged along yours, warm breath softening your lips into compliance. 

When he kissed you, it felt as if berries burst on your tongue, filling your mouth with sweet flavor. 

Your hands traveled up his arms, clutching his shoulders. The one covered in bark provided a new, unique sensation. It grazed your fingertips, but also felt grounding. He didn’t have to pull you closer, your body turned pliant on its own volition. 

Steve swallowed your gasp, gripping your hips tighter, as thick vines of ivy rapidly wound around you. They covered you whole, like they had that stone altar before. It felt scary and suffocating, but as soon as the cocoon of greenery swallowed your forms fully it burst apart; leaves scattered around in a fountain. 

You broke the kiss, tipping your head away and looking around. You were no longer in the same spot. You were in no recognizable place, to be exact. 

If you could find a name for it, the heart of the forest would be it. 

Light green grass spread around in a thick carpet, with patterns of bluebells and lilies of the valley. Graceful, tall birches circled the place, their silvery leaves catching chunks of sun rays. By a spot where wild rose bushes weaved an intricate arch stood a big bed. Easily high at hip height, woven tightly of green moss and periwinkles.

Steve didn’t give you much time to admire. With a firm push of his hand he tilted your head back towards him. Kept cupping your cheek as he kissed you again, more urgently this time. Demanding. 

He released you to tug on your clothes, doing a swift job with layers of your skirts, but grumbling a bit when trying to untie your corset. 

“Won’t need that anymore here, little fern,” he purred as your breasts spilled out. 

Then he was picking you up, big hands gripping the back of your thighs and hoisting you easily. He sat on the bed, slowly easing you down until you were standing between his spread legs. 

It was only then that you realized the coverage around his hips was gone, leaving him exposed in all his glory. 

You couldn’t help peeking down. Your pussy clenched around nothing as you stared at the impressive size of him. Your mouth filled with the aftertaste of berries and your own saliva as his cock twitched upwards.

Steve’s hands roamed over your body, exploring your curves and lines with utmost fascination. He didn’t hesitate leaning forward to capture a stiff nipple into his mouth, sucking eagerly. His antlers gave you a scare as they brushed so close to your skin, but not once did his movement cause you pain. 

Feeling a little bolder, you slipped one of your hands between the roots of his antlers and into his hair. They felt soft and silky. Your other hand gripped the top of his shoulder; the one where bark printed into your palm in a sensation you were finding more and more pleasant. 

As Steve pulled back slightly, you slipped your fingers from his hair and across his face, mapping out contours and scratching through his beard. He gripped one of your legs under your knee and pulled it up, placing your foot on the bed and spreading you obscenely. His eyes darkened, something wolfish glinting in them as his gaze settled on your puffed, wet folds.

“Show me how you touch yourself,” he demanded in a raspy voice. 

The hand on your calf kept caressing and squeezing your flesh, while his other fisted his cock as your fingers dipped between your thighs. 

None of your lovers ever expressed desire to see you pleasure yourself, but Steve’s gaze was so heated you didn’t feel shy. Quite the opposite, somehow it felt so easy and natural; even more arousing as Steve licked his lips in unmasked hunger.

“Let me taste you. I bet you’re sweeter and richer than any honey.” 

You moaned, pushing two fingers inside and pumping them in and out a few times. When you brought your glistening digits to his lips, Steve licked them in a broad stroke of his tongue then took them into his mouth. His greedy sucking had your clit pulsing wildly.

“Delicious,” he hummed in delight, “and so ready for me, aren’t you?” 

Swiftly, he grabbed your hips and pulled you over his lap. Your gasp at the sudden movement and the feeling of his cock against your inner thigh combined with Steve’s loud groan of pleasure, when you gripped his antlers to steady yourself.

“That’s it. Keep touching them.” He urged you on as he slid you down his shaft. “It’s as if you were gripping my cock.”

“Nghh!” You keened, tightening your desperate hold on the antlers as your walls stretched around Steve’s girth. 

“Too big!” You whined, yet your hips followed the command of Steve’s hands as he guided you down. 

“Shh, my little fern. Take it. I know you can.” He was mercilessly forcing you down, moaning as your tight, hot walls enveloped him. “All your sweet holes will learn to take all of me.”

By the time he was buried to the root, you were shaking in pleasure. Your cheek was pressed to Steve’s, your breath coming out in jagged, hot puffs. Where your breasts were squished into the hard planes of Steve’s chest, it felt as if the filigree vines pulsing beneath his skin moved to tease your nipples. Steve’s hands were splayed on your hips, holding you in place as he savored the feel of your pussy around him. 

After a moment, he began rocking up into you and a few heartbeats later started bouncing you up and down his length. Soon your whimpers stretched into moans. Despite feeling boneless in his powerful hold, you also felt a surge of need to take from him as much as he was taking from your pliant body. 

You held Steve’s gaze as you straightened your back and started riding him; your fingers squeezing his antlers. 

When your climax hit, it was intense and unworldly. 

The first burst of it felt like falling into a cool mountain streak, only for the next tremors to fill you with heat and glow. Your head spinned and your moans and cries intertwined with small gasps of laughter. It was everything at once! Running with the wolves, picking fresh raspberries, twirling around in summer rain. 

And when Steve followed soon after, cumming with a loud roar, each spurt of his seed seemed to immerse you in hot springs. 

It was a rush of sensations; overwhelming, but addictive. 

When you met Steve’s gaze - both of you breathing heavily and still rocking into the continuous rhythm of aftershocks - you had no idea your irises bore first specks of inhuman green. All you knew was that you wanted more.

And so you demanded it.

Steve’s grin at your responsiveness was near predatory. He pinned you beneath him on the soft mossy pillows, placed your ankles over his shoulders and plunged into you in a hard thrust that had your scream echoing through the woods. 

Soon you’d be bound to him and the forest with every cell of your changing body. 

[wafflesex]

Because I'm a massive nerd: have some character analysis involving gem language and the gems the Leech twins are named after.

Fluorite is a precious stone named after the Latin word “flux” which means “continuous change.” It is associated with growth: removing negative energy, promoting positivity, and increasing self-confidence.

When cleansing the body from stress, fluorite primarily protects the intellect. It promotes concentration, memory retention, and can be used as a learning aid or for making big decisions. Green fluorite is especially good for this.

While fluorite’s namesake refers to spontaneity, geologists consider it a stable, predictable gem used to measure the hardness of other gems and minerals on the Mohs scale. Its strength is a reliable factor in determining how resistant other minerals are. In other words: fluorite helps you discover your true limits and potentials.

Besides aiding the mind, fluorite energizes as well as grounds the heart in "the now," especially during moments of high anxiety. Not to say it disregards the past and the future; it just prefers to work on who you are at present, recognizing you as an ever-changing, inevitable, unstoppable force in the universe. It promotes compassion towards oneself and encourages one to be the best they can be by opening their heart to fun and love instead of embracing past trauma.

In this sense, fluorite is wonderful for conducting work on your inner child, and is especially responsive to younger people (or those young-at-heart).

A softer mineral, true fluorite tends to bear many natural imperfections on its surface. Some may attribute this to recklessness, hyperactivity, or immaturity. But beneath its scuffs and rough edges, fluorite is a colorful, hearty stone overflowing with positivity… that even glows under ultraviolet light! What a funky little guy.

Jadeite is a highly prized gem that promises safety and balance in one’s life. Like fluorite, it is also a cleansing stone which relies on a more mature approach to turning negative energy into self-sufficient thoughts and behaviors. However, though beautiful and reliable, jade is cold-to-the-touch, and when stowed away or left unused, can grow incredibly brittle. Therefore, it insists upon being used frequently, if not all the time.

Many believe jade jewelry should be worn for one's entire lifetime, as removing it may invite eternal bad luck.

Only diamond can be used to carve jadeite, the strongest natural stone in the world. Measuring in at around 7 on the Mohs scale, it doesn’t blemish, bend, or break easily. With such reliable strength, it can be carved and manipulated into intricate shapes without fear of shattering.

As jade naturally resists breakage, it is a protective gem that forms a special bond with its owner and is commonly used as a tool for breaking other gems. On the rare occasion it does break, however, jade produces glass-like, razor-sharp edges.

In other words: once broken, handle with caution.

Still, there is a nurturing facet to jade: it promotes vitality, youthfulness, and longevity in people while also extending that power to the earth itself. It was often used in old Chinese rituals to manifest strong crop growth. Today, having a sculpture of a jade bok choy in one’s home is considered a symbol of long life and good health.

Make no mistake: jade would rather be out and about having fun with you and others. Doing so means it can make the most out of the life you have together. Utilizing its gorgeous exterior, it invites long lasting friendships and even romance to those who wear it. People may naturally trust and be drawn to jade wearers as the gem helps create a charmingly positive and tranquil personality.

If you're included, it feels included in turn.

A Chinese saying states “you can put a price on gold, but jade is priceless.” Tied to handling matters of the heart, it is a highly perceptive gem and an invaluable treasure meant to be cherished. Generous, elegant, and fierce, it will serve you well… but only if you do the same for it.

Ok I'm done thank you for coming to my rock talk

[bigcollections]

CARSALESMENİNFO - GOLD

Exploring Car Salesman Earnings: Understanding the Salary Statistics If you've ever wondered about the financial side of the automotive sales industry, you're not alone. Car salesmen play a crucial role in the vehicle purchasing process, and understanding their earnings can provide valuable insights. In this article, we'll delve into the world of car sales salary statistics, covering their average income, salary statistics, and factors that influence their compensation. 1) How much do car salesmen make The income of car salesmen can vary based on several factors, including experience, location, dealership size, and individual sales performance. On average, a car salesman's earnings typically consist of a base salary plus commissions. The base salary serves as a steady income, while commissions are tied to the number of vehicles sold. New or less-experienced car salesmen may start with a lower base salary, while seasoned professionals or those working at high-end dealerships may command a higher base. Commissions, often calculated as a percentage of the vehicle's sale price, can significantly boost earnings, especially if the salesman meets or exceeds sales targets. 2) Car Salesman Earnings: Breaking Down the Numbers To provide a general overview, the average base salary for a car salesman in the United States ranges from $20,000 to $40,000 per year. However, the potential for additional income through commissions can substantially increase overall earnings. Commissions typically range from 20% to 25% of the gross profit per vehicle sold. With the average profit per vehicle hovering around $1,000 to $1,500, successful salesmen have the potential to earn significant commissions. Top performers who consistently meet or exceed sales targets may enjoy additional bonuses and incentives. 3) Car Sales Salary Statistics: Influencing Factors Several factors influence the salary statistics of car salesmen: Location: The cost of living and demand for vehicles in a specific area can impact earnings. Salesmen in regions with a higher cost of living or strong demand for cars may earn more. Experience: Seasoned car salesmen who have honed their skills and built a client base over the years often command higher salaries and commissions. Dealership Size and Reputation: Salesmen working at larger, well-established dealerships or those specializing in luxury vehicles may have access to a broader customer base and potentially higher commissions. Sales Performance: The number of vehicles sold directly correlates with earnings. High sales performance and exceeding targets can result in increased commissions and bonuses. In conclusion, car salesman earnings are dynamic and influenced by various factors. Aspiring car sales professionals should consider these elements when entering the industry and be prepared for a compensation structure that rewards hard work, sales acumen, and customer satisfaction. Visit CarSalesMenInfo for more in-depth insights into the world of car sales, including tips for success, industry trends, and advice for both aspiring and experienced car salesmen.

[galedekarios]

gale, waterdeep & coinage

just musings on gale's means as well as waterdeep lore bc i love waterdeep:

Gale: Believe it or not, but I witnessed a similar standoff back at the Yawning Portal. Of course, an establishment like that invites all sorts of outlandish entertainments. Player: What's the Yawning Portal Gale: An inn in Waterdeep. Never a dull moment there. Adventurers come from all over Faerûn to try their luck down the well: Leads into the Undermountain, you see - full of death, danger, and vast amounts of treasure. Hard to resist. Player: What was the standoff about? Gale: Oh, a drow, a dragonborn, and a cleric of Cyric walk into a bar. Your standard fare. Maybe someone was cheating at cards, maybe it was some weird lovers' quarrel. In any case, out came the crossbow, and a hush fell over the entire room.devnote Player: What happened next? Gale: I stood up and yelled: 'Shadowdark ale for everyone!' The crowd cheered, the tension drained into five dozen tankards, and soon all was well again. Gale: In a place like the Yawning Portal, the most powerful magic is calling for a round of drinks. Gale: Mind you, all I did was call for ale, but you went and stood in front of that crossbow. I'd drink to that.

i will definitely take a look at the yawning portal itself at a later date (as well as other points of interest within the city) bc it's very interesting as a focal point in waterdhavian history and society.

while we can only speculate about what gale's background in terms of means, wealth and standing looked like since things like tutors and even maids were not uncommon in waterdhavian society, it is interesting to note that he - whatever his personal means at the time this event took place - felt the need to defuse the brewing fight with 'five dozen tankards'.

we do actually know how much one such tankard costs at the yawning portal:

[source]

17cp x 60 = 1020cp

this was interesting to me in terms of this meant in actual terms of coinage and wealth and money spent.

here's an overview of waterdeep's various coins:

source: volo's waterdeep enchiridion

gale spent over a 1000 nibs/copper pieces that evening (or more than one sun/platinum coin) to de-escalate a potentially lethal fight.

to put that into perspective, i'm adding this reference of prices here:

source: volo's waterdeep enchiridion

gale also attended blackstaff academy, with elminster as his mentor. the academy had costs attached with it:

Acceptance to the Academy was predicated on either demonstrating extraordinary magical aptitude (those who could not cast arcane spells were very rarely admitted) or having a particularly compelling personal history. Joining the Academy was free, however monthly dues were required to continue attendance. These fees started at 10 gp per month and increased as a student gained seniority and required more advanced tutelage. In addition, it was a requirement that any new spell that was discovered or researched by an apprentice had to be added to Blackstaff Tower's library. [source]

ten gold pieces per month as fees, although with gale being elminster's mentee, he may have chosen to assist gale and morena partially or fully with any costs that blackstaff academy may have charged.

it does sound, however his childhood may have looked like with a presumably absent father and a mother with her hands full with a young genius, able to conjure rabbits as a babe, summoning a tressym, a magma mephit who set a room on fire, as well as casting a level 3 spell (fireball) at age 8 or younger, that gale at least during the height of his career as a wizard, lived comfortably.

ending this with more food for thought and a banter between gale and karlach:

Gale: They say wealth offers a form of magic. Alas, it's one I've rarely dabbled in. Karlach: Nor I. Never had more than a few coppers in the city, and any soul coins in Avernus went straight to Zariel. Gale: Make no mistake. Souls are sold for coins up here as well. All too cheaply, in most cases.

[astaroth1357]

Witchy Requests: The Reality of Summoning a Demon Lord

Contents: Violence and demons being demonic

~♡♡♡~

Summoning Lucifer

First off, this is not even remotely easy to do.

Lucifer does not get summoned away very often because it takes a witch at least comparable to Solomon's skill to pull it off. Of the small handful of people who can, only a couple are crazy enough to try (so he already knows them all by name).

Not only is this hard to do logistically, Lucifer also HATES being summoned with a burning passion. It messes up his schedule, gives him a pounding headache, and it's pretty humiliating to be ordered about like a dog on a lead.

Anyone summoning Lucifer has put some seriously strong spells in place to keep him in check. It'll take more than a salt circle to stay protected because he'll just blow that crap away with his wings.

It's well known that he will attack the second that the caster gives him the opportunity. Even so much as looking away could leave enough of an opening for him to fry them to a crisp. Extra potent magic chains and bindings are about the only things that ensure safety....

Deals with Lucifer are extremely costly due to how pissed he is just being there. He doesn't stop at their soul. Depending on the day, he could ask for any number of other sacrifices before he so much as lifts a finger. A person summoning Lucifer must be prepared to lose almost everything...

That said, he always fulfills his contracts to the letter and employs very little trickery. If the agreement was unclear, then that's on the summoner. Not him. They get exactly what they asked for.

There was a rumor going around for a time that if Lucifer was summoned with classical music in background, he'd be easier to deal with. Unfortunately, a naive young witch gave it a try and found out that "easier to deal with" Lucifer is still willing take off a hand or two no matter how sophisticated the room sounds.

Solomon has only managed to summon him twice. The first time was in a bid for a pact (which ended in a very wrecked office) and the second was an attempt to ask the questions about Michael that Simeon refused to answer (he let him go pretty quickly after receiving a death glare that would have turned his hair white if it weren't so silvery already).

Summoning Mammon

So like. It's pretty easy to do, but it ain't cheap.

Mammon only shows up if the caster can offer up some serious wealth in return. We're talking sprinkling the summoning circle in gold coins and Rolex watches to make it happen. They don't get to keep any of it, either. He's taking that as the "entrance fee."

Though he's generally a pretty safe summon, Mammon's motivations are directly tied to how much wealth he's gonna make off of their time together. Bribes aren't just encouraged, they're expected, and he gets pissed off if they think he'll do any work for free.

Since he encompasses the sphere of Greed, he sees a lot of witches and the like who summon him for a bit of luck or to increase their chances of acquiring ill-gotten gains. He usually demands a cut of whatever they manage to get from his help, on top of what it already took for him to play ball to begin with.

The only witches who get to skip his exorbitant prices are, unfortunately, the ones whom he already owes money to and it is degrading to say the least... He tries to keep MC out of that as much as possible and he'll straight up toss anyone who brings it up.

There's an urban legend around witching circles that of you can get Mammon to kiss a Grimm and give it to you, you'll have good fortune for an entire year. He doesn't really believe it himself but he still gave one to MC, just in case.

Solomon hasn't ever tried to summon Mammon, though he knows that he could very easily. He's not too tied to wealth or material possessions, so he's never needed his assistance to start with. If he ever summons him now, it's usually just to ask how MC is doing since the two are so close.

Summoning Levi

Often more trouble than it's worth...

Summoning Levi is really only useful for a VERY small handful of problems, nearly all of which concerning the Devil's Sea in some way. He's the only brother with any jurisdiction over it, much less the ability to talk to fish.

The issue is that Levi hates being summoned just as much as Lucifer. It drags him right out of his comfort zone and puts him a space where he feels like he's being judged for how useless he is... Thus, he'll spend the whole time sulking, irritated, and hissing to be left alone.

Levi has to be spoken to with extreme care because setting him off could result in the caster getting crushed by all 200 tons of Lotan then swept away in the flood that comes after.

Those who can appease him with video games and anime fair better, not by much because he gets even more irritated if they get details the wrong or seem like a "fake fan" (yes, unfortunately he gatekeeps 🥲). Only the most otaku of witches are safe from his temper.

In truth, main reason that anyone summons Levi anymore is for nautical travel through the Devil's Sea. The dude is like a living compass with precise latitude and longitudinal coordinates built into his DNA. But asking for that is also a one way ticket to meet Admiral Levi who is even WORSE to be around than the Otaku version...

The first time Solomon summoned Levi, they actually got along pretty well (largely thanks to Solomon's equally copious knowledge of TSL). He was only looking for the scales of a specific sea monster, but the two ended up chatting for a while. He thought that he could have made a pact with him right then and there, but Levi asked if he liked The Magical Ruri Hana and his answer to THAT shut things down instantly...

Summoning Satan

Practically the OG demon to summon despite being around for the least amount of time.

Satan is one of the easier brothers to summon because he spent a few centuries spreading around just how to do so in the human world. He wanted an excuse to leave the House and piss off Lucifer by fucking with humanity. Architect of the Satanic Panic right here.

I suppose you could say that in his younger years, Satan was something akin to a rockstar in witching terms. Even non-witches knew of him, just not a lot of the accurate details.

Satan was really the "ground zero" for humanity's pop culture surrounding demons. He used to use it as a chance to let loose from Lucifer's constant pressure, so he played up the persona of the "charming, charismatic bad boy with a homicidal mean-streak" beautifully.

You would also have to be a lawyer if you wanted to make a solid contract with him. He was wicked smart even back then and put it good use by tormenting the humans more. That classic phrase, "Deal with the Devil" came from the amount of times he'd gleefully screw someone over.

Since then, he's calmed down considerably and is even a little embarrassed about his old persona if anyone brings it up. He's much more refined in his modern day dealings, though he'll still make a nasty deal or two just to keep the humans on their toes.

Satan's fondness for cats is the reason why cats got tied to witchcraft in media. It was common knowledge that if you summoned him with a cat present, then he would be too distracted to give you a bad deal. Ever since then, it just stuck.

Solomon's true first interaction with Satan was when he summoned him one day to get some advice about making a pact with Lucifer... It was one of his worst ideas to date and he still has the mended ribs to show for it.

Summoning Asmo

Very easy with low risk... for the most part.

Asmo LOVES getting summoned out by witches. It feeds his ego something fierce. So he never makes it all that hard to do, however...

Those who summon Asmo quickly learn that it cannot be a one-time thing. Or if it is, it better fucking stay that way.

Asmo ties a lot of self-worth to how "in demand" he is, so after a witch summons him, he'll keep a tally on how long it takes for them to summon him again.

If they do so quickly and regularly? No issues. He couldn’t be happier! If they take too long between summons though...?

Fury. He'll come at them laying curse after curse because how DARE they forget about him like that!! And after, uh... whatever he did to help them out, no less!

Most witches just preemptively make a pact with him since they know that calling on Asmo is more like an ongoing relationship than a simple business transaction.

Ironically, despite the fact that Asmo wants to be summoned so badly, he is incredibly picky about the kinds of work he'll do. He won't do anything that could ruin his manicures, mess up his hair, strain his muscles, dirty his skin, cause a breakout, make him frown-

All of this absolutely stems from that time he was summoned by Solomon and tricked into doing hard labor to build his Temple. You live and learn, then throw the people who treat you poorly into the desert as punishment. Or something like that.

Summoning Beel

A very unwise decision unless you have the resources of a sultan.

Beel isn't exactly hostile by default, if anything he's very easy going all things considered. It's just that his stomach does a lot of the talking in contract arrangements...

After summoning Beel, the caster has to try and keep him fed at all costs. If he's eating, he's docile and easily negotiable. If he's hungry, he will eat them without hesitation. He's just going to go for the most filling thing in the room and, unfortunately, that tends to be the human in front of him.

As long as they have ten or so caterers on speed dial, deals with Beel are very straightforward. He's refreshingly forthright compared to the rest.

Sure, the first thing he usually asks for is permission to eat them, but he can be easily dissuaded by offering up something else to fill his stomach in their place. He's not bloodthirsty, just hungry.

For a short time, it was theorized that summoning both twins at the same time would make their interactions more safe, but that was quickly canned when it was discovered that Belphie would encourage Beel to eat whomever brought them there... He was not a good influence at all.

Solomon did actually try to summon Beel once thinking that he made enough food to keep him satisfied for a talk. Beel didn't even get three bites into his tuna salad before he lost consciousness... When he woke back up in HoL, he didn't have any memory of it and Solomon tactically decided to never mention it again so he could avoid future arguments.

Summoning Belphie

Blacklisted. Not allowed.

For centuries before MC showed up, Belphie was considered one of the most dangerous demons for a human witch to summon. Full stop. Even worse than Lucifer. The guy's bloodlust was unreal.

How exactly was the weakest brother considered the most deadly to interact with, you ask? Cold, hard manipulation.

Belphegor knows he's considered the weakest. He knows that he doesn't look like much of a threat. He even knows how to play into that "sleepy and harmless baby brother" image that he's spent so damn long building up.

Belphie is even better at persuasion than Satan. He can make whoever summons him feel silly, no, embarrassed for ever thinking he was a threat, then attack them when their guard was down.

Even if they keep him contained, his contracts are notoriously filled with wordplay and deceit. At best, he'll twist the terms around so he doesn't actually have to do anything. At worst, it'll become a death warrant with more than just their life on the line...

All of this, of course, was Belphie back when he still hated humans. But even after settling down with MC, he's in no rush to go correcting any records. He quite likes having his nap days uninterrupted, thank you.

One of the most horrifying rumors about summoning Belphegor is that if you sleep afterwards without fully sanctifying the room, he'll possess you in your sleep. There are still witches to this day who travel to the Devildom with sage in their pockets just in case they see him and need to start cleansing the area immediately.

Much like Mammon, Solomon has also never tried to summon Belphie. Sure, he can be somewhat unscrupulous, but even the witty sorcerer knows when the risk outweighs the reward.

Summoning Diavolo

Really only possible in theory because there has never been a successful attempt.

No one is very sure why all attempts to summon the Demon Prince crash and burn so easily. Solomon himself as spent centuries trying to work out the logistics.

Is there just no sacrifice comparable enough to bring out a being of his magnitude?

Are the sigils and chants required so ancient and esoteric that they've long been forgotten by mortal minds?

Do the summoning circles work but Diavolo, by the nature of his power and authority, just "opts out" of showing up if he feels like it?

Solomon has tried summoning Dia numerous times and every attempt has left him with nothing but wasted materials and broken dreams. This is basically his white whale. Don't bring it up or he'll get pouty.

Summoning Barbatos

Another unwise decision that leaves many with nightmares years later.

Barbatos is an... interesting case to summon. Like Lucifer, the caster has to be incredibly talented. Though unlike Lucifer, Barbatos doesn't react with such upfront vitriol.

To be clear, he is NOT happy. He is NEVER happy to be called away so suddenly from his lord. But it comes across more like a frigid aura of contempt and malice than the white hot hostility of all the others.

Put simply, it just feels like you royally fucked up in ways you can't even process.

The most unnerving thing about accepting a contract with Barbatos is that he will always agree to whatever is asked for with no complaint, but he'll never say what he wants in return.

The terms of all demonic contracts are that whatever is asked must be balanced by an equal sacrifice, but since Barbs NEVER identifies what he plans on taking, it leaves the caster to wonder what they've loss...

Every bad event from then on gets overanalyzed to the point of paranoia where the caster victim tries to identify if their debt has finally been paid or if he may still come to them one day and demand what he's owed...

Solomon doesn't know it, but a popular theory among his peers is that what Barbs took in exchange for their pact was his mortality in hopes that the centuries of loss and isolation would make him go insane. It's a silly little rumor, but it does still make Barbs chuckle whenever he hears it...

[wihellib]

WHB, Nightmare Passes, and Value

This is going to be a long post.

It would cost me $72.94 real life dollars if I wanted to possess Beel Bath. For that price I would get:

Solomon Seals: 300 (6 pulls)

Lesser (Red) Keys: 210 (7 ten pulls)

Greater (Gold) Keys: 250 (5 ten pulls)

Solomon’s Tears: 168 (Enough to Promote one character 4/4 times and another 3/4 times)

Pie Piece Choice Chest: 40 (Not enough to upgrade one character’s skill to level 5, which needs 60 pie pieces)

Pie Choice Chest: 50 (Not enough to upgrade one character’s skill to level 8, which needs 160 pies)

Devil Gummy Choice Chest: 10 (Easy to farm, so useless)

Beel Homescreen Buttons: 4 (My Devils, Text Messages, Secret Club, Dark Sanctuary)

Beel Bath Artifact: 2

Beel Bath Card: 1

*These numbers don’t include the free tier that anyone can get.

Now, if you want people to spend an amount of money on your game that’s comparable to the full price of a AAA game (good for many, many hours of fun) then you have to make it worth their while.

This is what I would change to the Nightmare Pass to improve its value:

The Items

Give 500 Solomon Seals (1 ten pull), since 6 pulls is such an odd number. Greater Keys have much less value than Lesser Keys, so, to compensate, it should be 300 Lesser Keys (10 ten pulls) and 100 Greater Keys (2 ten pulls).

They already give a good number of Solomon Seals, so it can be kept like that.

The entire pies system needs to be reworked. It’s absurd how much it costs to upgrade character skills, especially when we have no way of farming pies. So, I’m just going to ignore this part, and just say ‘Do Better’.

The Gummies have extremely low value since it’s so easy for us to farm them, so the Gummy Chests needs to be removed from the Pass and replaced with something else. There are a lot of options, like nightmare pancakes, or advanced candy choice chests, etc.

In regards to the Homescreen buttons, I think that’s a great, unique way to add value to the Pass. However, this is only the case when they are unique buttons. For this Pass, the buttons you get are just of normal Beel, they are not his Bath versions. The problem is you can get all other normal King versions in the Nightmare Pancake shop. This is not fair. Full stop. It punishes Beel fans for no reason. So, the Pass should give unique versions of the buttons instead, and normal Beel buttons should be in the nightmare pancake shop.

You should also get a unique frame.

The L Card

Now, onto the star of the show, the L card. You have to do something to set these cards apart from the others. Give me a reason to spend money on this card when I can get the others for free.

The easiest thing to do is to always make the cards explicit. The full cock and balls and oh look there’s a butthole. Make them obscene. This obviously wouldn’t work for mobile app users, but PrettyBusy should be pushing more and more people over to EroLabs anyways. They need to figure out a way for people to transfer their accounts and then go all in on EroLabs so they don’t have to worry about censorship.

Something that would add huge value to the nightmare passes is if the L card’s story was voiced. Not fully voiced, the side characters wouldn’t be, just the main guy on the card would be voiced. I understand getting voice acting is expensive. But this wouldn’t have to be every card on the pass and when it was, they could increase the price a little bit.

Also the L card should be fully evolved if you buy it. Currently you can only buy the card once and have no way of getting more copies to evolve it. So an easy way to add value to the card is to have it fully evolved (i.e. more powerful).

The Character On The Card

Moving on to which characters should be featured on the nightmare pass. I am adamant that none of the Kings should be on a nightmare pass ever.

The main love interests of WHB are the 7 Demon Kings. The others get a sex scene in the main story and maybe some flirty texts/interactions, but that’s it. I really don’t think any of the main love interests of a game should be completely paywalled.

The nightmare pass works best and is the most fair when it’s a once-in-a-while thing (every 3-4 months) and is used to showcase characters that are not the main love interests, like Gabriel and Juno.

This way also has more potential for making money. It’s like, “Hey, I know how much you love Andrealphus or Minhyeok, and you’re sad you’ll only get one sex scene with them and no fancy art, but what if we told you that you could… if you buy these nightmare passes.” People would jump at that way more than a non-explicit card of Beel that’s very similar to other cards that you can get for free. The nightmare pass is devalued in this case.

Finale

So far PrettyBusy hasn’t said anything about the controversy surrounding the nightmare pass. There is a strong chance that they will ignore it completely. So, please keep the pressure up and keep sending them emails (be professional, not bullies) expressing your displeasure with the current state of WHB.

[nuttybarbariantheorist]

Counter Encounters

He was working at the new bookstore on campus the first time she noticed him.

It was the beginning of classes at Merini U and Marcille was doing her best to get everything she needed for the coming courses. It was, she decided, absolutely imperative to get a good deal on schoolbooks in order to save a bit more for necessities. This year wasn’t her first after all…it was her second year in Medical Research, and she was going to do her best! There was a rumor circulating that a new shop had popped up offering some pretty good bargains. Marcille had slipped over to check the moment she got the required book list for her classes.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for this book…its for my class.”

The worker behind the counter looked at her, he had tousled blonde hair and strange gold eyes. There was something familiar about the guy, albeit in a very masculine way. A soft smile lit his face as he answered her. “I can help you find it; do you know the title?”

Marcille dug in her bag to procure the list. As she went to open the envelope her hand slipped and she promptly ending up dropping it in a clumsy fumble. Embarrassment colored her cheeks, as the guy stooped and picked it up for her.

He had the restraint not to laugh. Only offered her the list with a soft. “You dropped this.”

She mumbled trying to hide her embarrassment. “Thanks.”

“So, which book did you need?”

“All of them honestly, just trying to save some money for the rest of school.”

“I get that. Let’s see if we can find what you need. Medical section is back here.”

Marcille followed him to the back of the store. He was really tall, tall enough to effortlessly reach the high shelves for the volumes on her list. He handed her them and quoted the price as they found the right ones. She couldn’t help but pat herself internally on the back at each quote, as the prices were the best she had encountered so far. She teetered as the final volume hit the stack and the bookkeeper paused.

“Ummm, would you like me to hold those?”

She was wavering unsteadily under her load. Nursing books are indisputable bricks and each subsequent one had increased her wobbling. The load threatened to tip her over now. Strong arms shot under hers before she could collapse, the burden lifting away as she steadied herself.

“Woah, easy there.”

The blonde bookkeeper lifted the heavy pile from her arms without trouble.

“Let’s get this lot up front so you can pay…then I can carry them to your car for you.”

Sighing with relief and wishing for something to lean on Marcille followed him dutifully to the front counter. He rang up the titles and she fished her wallet out of her bag and paid.

“So, umm, what was your name?”

“Marcille, my names Marcille Donato.”

“Well, Marcille, can I carry these to your car for you?

“That would be great thanks!”

The price seemed even better than she had previously thought. He carried the books effortlessly out to her little red coupe, loading them in the trunk when she popped it open for him. A million other things to do were crowding her mind and it wasn’t until she stopped at the first light and glanced at the receipt that a sudden realization decked her.

He gave me an employee discount?

The second time Marcille met the blonde man was at the little ice cream shop in downtown Merini sometime later. The shop had the absolute best parfait in town and Marcille felt in severe need of something to cheer herself up. Calculus was physically kicking her ass. The numbers side of her degree was something she had to work very hard to get good at. Medicinal dosage required one to be able to do drug calculations based on a patient’s weight and age. Fractions and decimals were still drifting through her brain from the study and cram session with Falin earlier today. Her friend had suggested a break when she noticed Marcille’s eyes glazing over in the numbness the subject seemed to inspire.

The numbers were still flitting across the backs of her eyes when a cheerful voice addressed her. “Here’s your parfait!”

Her parfait had never stared back at her before. There’s a red dragon head and a wolf head poking up over the rim of her dessert. Cheerful and unexpected extra treats that she didn’t pay for. Marcille could only cover her surprise with a stuttered thanks, green eyes flicking up to meet…gold. Gold eyes and tousled blonde hair. Again. Still tall, though he was stooping a little bit. Marcille couldn’t place his familiar face and before she could question the artistic decisions on her dessert, he’s off to the next customer.

She picked up parfait and napkin and retired to a corner to enjoy it. Curiosity replaced her distress now…as she wondered at the extra goodies. The wolf head was a shortbread cookie, a little soft from soaking in the sweet vanilla ice cream and strawberry syrup, but deliciously crisp besides that. It made her parfait taste a little like a strawberry shortcake and Marcille found she really enjoyed that. The red dragon turned out to be a rice Krispie treat covered in a thin layer of fondant, with chocolate horns. Equally a surprise and equally delicious.

The café was bustling now and she spared a few more minutes to carefully watch the man behind the counter. He never paused very long and seemed pretty competent in his work, making the drinks and handing them to patrons. None of the desserts looked remotely like hers though.

She pulled the last bit of cream through her straw and went to wipe her mouth with the napkin and did a double take. Written on the flimsy paper in hurried scrawl was a message.

Cheer up Marcille!

Wah…What…the guy at the counter…how did he know her name?

Is he flirting with me?

Marcille tried to get a glimpse of his name tag thinking it might jostle her memories. He just didn’t seem to hold still long enough for her too…

Her phone buzzed pulling her thoughts from the almost familiar guy, back to the stark reality of her looming Calculus test.

She stood and after a moment’s hesitation, tucked the napkin in her jacket pocket. Dared a final glance at the tall weird blonde guy putting whip cream on a sundae and left the café.

Maybe it was just the sugar in her system, but she did feel a little more cheerful.

It was another month before she saw the guy again. Falin had invited her to see the second DalClan movie. And Marcille was late. The traffic was a bit heavier than normal and she had needed to make a call to Falin, asking her to go in and save them some good seats. By the time Marcille parked at the theatre she only had a couple minutes left before the show.

She hurried into the building and practically careened to the counter, whipping out her wallet for a ticket and a small bucket of popcorn. Falin probably hadn’t bought any since she had needed to buy her own ticket. Her friend kept to a strict budget with not a lot of wiggle room for spending.

A large bucket of popcorn appeared along with her ticket. Marcille took it automatically and turned to go. She looked back briefly, a belated thank you dying on her tongue.

Wait, is this the same guy…?

Golden eyes and surprisingly neat? blonde hair. It wasn’t nearly as tousled this time and almost looked like it had been recently combed. He was smiling cheerfully at her and it wasn’t until he told her. “Enjoy your movie!” that Marcille’s free hand flew to her mouth as she realized the time and made a mad dash for the doorway that lead to the screens. A silent promise to ease the curiosity in her brain, to stop by the counter afterwards to finally confront the stranger. Who seemed to be everywhere and nowhere simultaneously in her life.

Falin was sitting in the middle row middle, which made getting to her awkward, but the seats were really good. Worth the few pieces of popcorn that made an escape when Marcille finally waded over to her. Commercials were still blaring on screen, so she hadn’t missed anything important. Falin smiled at Marcille as she handed her the popcorn bucket.

“Wow, that’s the biggest one… I’m glad you made it!”

Marcille sighed and dropped gratefully into the theatre chair rolling her head back dramatically.

“Gahhhh, traffic was so bad! I was sure I was gonna miss it!”

Falin crunched popcorn thoughtfully. “But you didn’t.”

“It was a near thing, I got distracted again…I think that guy I told you about works here too…The same one from the bookstore and the café.”

“Oh?” Marcille completely missed the very devious glance her friend aimed at her. “What did you think of him?”

“I don’t know him, how am I supposed to have an opinion on him…Oh…he did give me a large popcorn when all I paid for was a small. Huh…”

Three people seemed to shush her at once, as the lights dimmed and the Dalclan theme began to play sweetly over the speakers. Falin dared to cup a hand to her mouth and whisper softly. “You know…my brother works here too.”

Too? Are they? No, no way, he looked way too masculine to be her brother.

Marcille shoved a handful of popcorn in her mouth and chewed. Mind flickering over golden eyes and blonde hair.

“You again!”

She finally catches him. He’s standing there holding a package and shifting from foot to foot awkwardly. He hadn’t been at the movie theatre when they left, Marcille had looked.

“…y-your package?” He’s slightly taken aback by her abrupt declaration…sweating and nervous. Not helped by the fact that she surges up to him and jabs his chest.

“You’re Falins brother?!”

“Um.” He holds the box to one side and lets her maul his vest. She’s over a foot shorter than him so the results probably looked like an angry shiba inu berating a golden retriever.

“Why didn’t you say something? Tell me your name. Anything?”

He stared dumbly at her. “I didn’t want to seem weird to you.”

“Weird…weird is seeing you everywhere and not knowing who you are!”

He shook free of her grip and offered his hand.

“I’m Laios. Laios Touden.”

Marcille took it in a firm shake with a huff. “You already know mine.”

“Heh, yeah, Falin told me…but I didn’t realize it until after I talked to you at the bookstore.” He squinched his eyes shut and said her name with a grin.  “Marcille.”

“Why on earth do you work so many places? The bookstore, the café, the movie theatre…now you’re a delivery driver?!”

Laios rubbed the back of his head with his free hand. “I help Falin with her school bills…if she worked full-time it would really hurt her studies’, I want her to have her dream job on day, so...”

The fiery indignation in her died. For the first time, she noted the sleepy bags under his eyes, the absolutely limp way he carried himself, this guy was tired. He was working four jobs to help his sister. There was no indication he was taking any thought or care for himself. “Do you have any free time today?”

Confusion clouds his tired face. “Huh?” She repeated the question and his eyes warmed and focused on her. “I’ll be off from this job at 7.”

“That’s kind of late, but please come back here when you finish.”

“Ummm…” He blushed. “May I ask what for?”

“Oh, no nothing risque, just…there’s three things you need to do better.” She rubbed her cheek thoughtfully. “Really just two…I think you are probably getting plenty of exercise. You can’t take good care of Falin if you aren’t taking good care of yourself. So, I’m gonna teach you how to balance your schedule and maybe do some meal prep!”

He chuckled softly and agreed. “I’d be happy to come over tonight.” She took her package from him then and for the first time since meeting him, smiled sunnily.

“Tonight then Laios.”

She disappeared inside and missed the soft pale blush on his cheeks, as he turned and headed back to work.

This was inspired by a super cute doodle an artist I admire did. Could not for the life of me get the idea out of my head until I wrote this.

I can message anyone with the art link per request! But I want to respect their privacy as I am gonna label this how I wrote it. Direct any flack at me please. The art was adorably platonic and I am the shipper here.

[mays-simping-for-leona]

it's the wrong treasure!(pirate leona x siren reader-part 1)

(im open for scenarios and headcanons)

hi guys! mays is back✨sorry for not posting but i was busy with my family and summer school, here's the pirate leona scenario according to the poll I created a few days ago ⏤͟͟͞͞★

and also i would like to tell y'all that i might start writing about ruggie and epel, i started studying them this couple of days⏤͟͟͞͞★

characters:

pirate leona x siren fem!reader⏤͟͟͞͞★

information:

reader being a simp somehow, sfw, I will include characters that do not exist in twst as members of Leona's crew they are only NPCs, reader is a siren and violent with people on land, Her species is aggressive with pirates and sings with their beautiful voice, They lure pirates to their places in the ocean to catch them and get rid of them, The reader will be violent with Leona since he's in their territory⏤͟͟͞͞★

prompt:

pirate Leona was with his pirate crew in the ocean, heading to find a treasure, and by mistake they found a completely different kind of treasure..⏤͟͟͞͞★

⏤͟͟͞͞★enjoy!

Under the cloud-covered sky, a crashing navy blue bed of high waves decorated the horizon in plain sight, announcing the arrival of the sailing ship to the point of no return. The strong storm and violent waves shook the ship and raised it to the heights of the sky, then slammed it into the face of the ocean again..

The ship whose surface was filled with a crew of scoundrels and bandits, all inside the bottom of the ship eating the huge fish they had earned from a recent theft. At the head of the table sat their leader, the beastman, his legs carelessly above the table, sitting proudly crushing the thorny bones of the fish with his powerful fangs, He was chewing his food while his crew laughed and drank, completely unconcerned about the storm that seemed to sink the ship at any moment. These stinkers were accustomed to these difficult adventures and it no longer frightened them

"You damned bastards, pour more drink! Don't you see that we are close to reaching the treasure that the pirate captain has been searching for for years?!!" One of the pirates shouted as he climbed onto the table and raised his wooden cup, spilling the drink on the food while laughing hard

The rest of them all started cheering and encouraging, increasing the noise in the banquet room, which made the beastman's ears flicker and his eyebrows furrow, clear sign of him getting annoyed

"heey...y'all shut up!! just how many times should i yell about wanting the banquet to be quiet?!! Do you want me to throw you off the ship and get eaten by the sharks??!" leona yelled, slamming his palm on the table as he lift his tricorn off his head "It is too early to celebrate, do not rule out that we will arrive and find the treasure stolen" yeah stolen, he is sure that the treasure is his, He will not say that someone preceded him in finding the treasure, but rather he is certain that the treasure was originally existed just for him

Leona took a sip of his drink as he looked at the map in his hand and contemplated it. Legend says that in the middle of this ocean there is a mermaid queen whose tail is made of gold, diamonds, blue sapphires and emeralds, her face is studded with pearls and her hair is made of thin threads of silver.. Price This mermaid is alive for 100 million, and she is dead for 75 million.."Because of her brightness, her tail and hair can be seen from 100 meters away. How wonderful" Leona grinned, he must find her no matter what the cost because he is a greedy pirate..But while he was immersed in his thoughts..

"BOSS!"

The ship captain came from the deck and descended the stairs. He called to Leona as he stopped in the middle of the stairs "BOSS, I SAW SOMETHING SHINING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE OCEAN!!!"

Leona's train of thought was interrupted by the captain's screams. His eyes widened and he looked at the captain in shock. He was very surprised that they had just arrived at the intended location, but the captain saw the light so quickly "you're kidding right?!!" Leona quickly got up and ran to the stairs, followed by the rest of the crew. They threw their cups on the floor and left the food, immediately heading to the deck to confirm what the captain had said

While they were running down the stairs, the captain was talking to Leona "boss, i can here the sirens.."

Leona was even more surprised, but his surprised expression quickly turned into a smile from ear to ear, baring his fangs as excitement pumped strongly through his veins "sirens, huh? interesting, this means we are in the right place"

Leona stood at the front of the ship and looked at the place indicated by the captain. The captain was right. There was a golden shine on the horizon. The sound of Siren’s singing could be heard from afar..leona shivered in excitement and turned to his crew who would have screamed with anticipation

“YOU STINKY BASTARDS, ARE YOU READY TO GET THE DAMNED TREASURE??!!" leona screamed, He took out his sword from its sheath place and raised it to the sky. The sounds of the crew’s cheering echoed in the place, covering the noise of the storm and waves

Leona was standing on the edge of the ship, completely wet from the rain, looking towards the shiny thing in the water. He was a little in the water so only the long golden tail was visible..he is a bit..confused, why the mermaid didn't escape? He furrowed his eyes and brought his face closer to the water "is this even a mermaid?.." Leona turned to his crew and looked at them seriously "Get your net and catch this thing!"

The men quickly brought the net and prepared it. It did not take long until they threw it into the water and caught that golden body. It was pulled from the water forcefully and they raised it to the ship, and it was very heavy

Leona's eyes widened.. She is really a mermaid, she has a really shiny golden tail "WTF?" He is completely shocked, is it possible that he caught the queen so easily? Impossible, something must be wrong here "BE QUICK YOU IDIOTS!!!"

Just when the men were going to throw the mermaid onto the deck of the ship, Leona was standing right next to them and grabbed the net to pull with them because the mermaid was heavy... With a quick and unexpected movement, Leona did not feel anything at this moment except two very wet hands pulling him forcefully by his clothes, and the mermaid. She hit the men with her tail so hard that they collided with each other and collapsed to the ground immediately

"HEY Y!!!-" Leona was unable to give a reaction because within seconds he found himself being pulled and falling from the ship into the ocean. He could not see this time because he's underwater, and in front of him was only a mermaid who tore the net and freed herself, grabbing him by the neck and squeezing his body around her long tail... in fact, she was not a mermaid...she was a Siren

You are Siren, you were very angry as usual. Your people sent you to stop Leona's ship because he, like any other pirate, is trying to take the riches of your land and destroy your territory "you bastard..let me see your face.." you pulled the tricorn off his head, laughing at him as you swam to the surface, pulling him out the water so he can take a breath

"HAAAHH!!" Leona gasped hard as he took a breath and coughed after the water entered his lungs. He was in your grip trying to free his right hand. When you were about to curse and mock him again, you remained in your place for a few seconds.. His face.. Is this scoundrel really a pirate?..there's no way a pirate can look so handsome and young..where's the fucking shaggy beard? where's the golden teeth and the forty-something face?

"...are you a pirate?" you spook, amazement clear in your voice

Leona, quickly notice that you are distracted, so try to quickly release his right hand and take advantage of this moment of you lowering your defense "yes i'm the pirate captain, Why does this worry you??"

you were speechless, you are used to the ugly dirty shaggy bearded golden teethed forty years old smelly pirates that when you see a handsome man with legs you felt something inside you awaken..Even the men of your species are usually ugly, the sirens are usually ugly at all and their appearance is frightening, unlike the mermaids..so, for the first time in your life..you actually saw a handsome man, a man that made you have a moment of silence, you just wanted to stare at him for the rest of the day and enjoy that good looking appearance of his

but in the middle of your simping era, you were surprised by him suddenly swinging his sowrd in your face, almost injuring you in your neck and chest, you quickly let off him and swam away, trying to collect back your thoughts and keep up with reality. leona hold i rope that his crew threw to him, he climbed and got out of the water..looking at you almost angrily as he pulled his her back and panted

They didn't give you a chance. Suddenly, you were surprised by a strong bullet trying to hit you, but the shooter missed the target. Someone was carrying a gun on the ship and started taking another flintlock gun out of his pocket to hit you. You knew at this moment that there was no better option than running away. So you swam to the depths of the ocean with all your speed to avoid any serious injury

Leona boarded the ship again. He threw himself on the ground, coughing and feeling suffocated by the water in his lungs. He was preoccupied with the pain in his chest and ribs after you squeezed him hard with your tail

"boss, are you ok??! put the boss in his room and retreat!!! the ship"

"why the hell did you let them go, y/n?!!"

Under the ocean and inside one of the caves where your people used to live, the leaders gathered at you in anger. They sent you to eliminate those in the crew of the Leona ship, but you only failed the mission

you were speechless, You yourself don't know what happened to you. You used to kill these bastard men in cold blood. Why do you kind of feel strange now? You saw a beautiful being for the first time in your life, so beautiful that he made your tail fall loose around his waist, making you lower your defense and actually get..vulnerable

"im..im sorry, i don't know what got me..i just..i really don't know" you stutter, unable to defend yourself in the presence of your leaders, your brain was raising a million miles with all these thoughts

After a long and annoying discussion and reprimand, you were finally taken out. You were now outside the cave, swimming in the ocean, immersed in your thoughts. You remembered that perfect, clean face, the sharp, shining fangs, the green eyes like emeralds, the sharp jaw like a knife, and every detail of his face... just attracted you "why im still thinking about him?! ahh this is stupid!!" You tried to slap yourself and come back to your senses, but that didn't work either. His image is still clear in your head...

A week has passed. Throughout this week, you have not stopped watching the ship from afar, chasing Leona every time he comes out on deck and you approach, trying to get a close look at the man who has not left your imagination for a week, only your eyes outside the water lurking every move he makes. Every day your admiration for him increased more and more, especially when you saw him one day standing on the deck of the ship without his shirt and he was sharpening his sword. His muscles sent you wild, Now he looks a thousand times more tempting than before, to the point where you can't focus on doing anything all day except wishing to see him come out more

And on this day, while you were watching it as usual, you noticed that for some reason the crew members had not gone to the surface since the morning, and even the ship’s captain was not out to steer. The ship was moving on its own without navigation, which made you wonder... Did something happen on the ship?

Curious, you swam closer to the ship, going around it several times and checking the corners, putting your ear to the wood and trying to hear any sound from inside, but no one was talking and there were no sounds of movement...it was as if everyone had suddenly evaporated from the ship

"what the?..were did they go??.." you said to yourself, and when you decided to just go and come back later and gave the ship your back, you suddenly felt a lot of ropes around you, tightening against your torso and suddenly pulling you up

"LIFT HER QUICKLY!!!" You heard Leona's voice shouting at the crew, what?! Where did he come from?! Rather, where did they all suddenly come from?!

You tried to free yourself as last time, but this time the ropes were thick and strong, it was not just a fishing net that could be torn, so all your miserable attempts failed

You tried to scream and call on your people to save you, but suddenly you were silenced by someone putting a vial in your mouth filled with a strange-tasting liquid. You couldn't even tell what was going on, but you swallowed a large amount of liquid by mistake

Now, you were lying on the ground in front of the crew, and you felt a large amount of magic in your body... as if your body was convulsing and your tail was splitting in two, your bones were hurting and your gills were disappearing, the seashells on your entire body were disappearing... something strange was happening to you that you could not explain

You didn't even notice when Leona approached you and put a cloth over your body and wrapped it around you to cover you, because you simply drank a magic drink that turned you into a human. It wouldn't be pleasant for Leona to keep a girl naked in front of his crew, who he know that they are all bastard perverts

After you regained control of yourself and recovered from the pain, you realized what had happened to you. Your body froze completely when suddenly you were able to move two legs instead of a tail. You began to feel your skin, which had become very soft and free of shells. You touched your face, which clearly had changed, you don't feel your features are the same..

"hey, salmon, are you traumatized?" He interrupted your train of thought again, Leona. You raised your head to look at him, confused and frightened

"y-you!!!" You realized how stupid you are. You completely forgot that Leona is a beastman. It is true that he is not human, but that will not prevent him from making you dinner for him and the pirates, or perhaps they will sell you and take you to the land

But on the other hand, Leona was in a completely parallel world... unable to believe what his eyes were seeing. You were ugly because you were Siren, but now that you took this magical antidote, your appearance changed and you became a human being... your true features emerged and you became completely beautiful as the myths say, He was looking you up and down and inspecting every inch of you with his eyes, like any man in the world, of course: he gets aroused by the siren -not too much but just it worked-, it's practically done with him, even though you are now the weak party, it seems that the man will remain a man

"get away from me, don't come clo-!!! AHHAA LET ME GOOO!!!" just a second and you were hoisted up in the air, leona held you on his shoulder like a potato sack and walked to inside the ship "calm down salmon, i won't eat you" was all he said as he took you to his room, kicking it open and then kicking it back closed with his feet, putting you gently on the bed and moving away, standing beside the bed edge

"now, salmon, Can you explain why you've been stalking me all last week?"

im sorry for being shitty and stopping here but i really like making multiple chapters since im basically a 200-chapters-novel writer, but i need to see if there's people who will like this so i continue writing! i hope y'all support me on this so i can write more🫶🏻

⏤͟͟͞͞★thanks for reading!