🦇

To Calm a Storm

This is the fourth part of my “when he knew he loved you” series.

Lucifer | Mammon | Levi | Satan | Asmo | Beel | Belphie

Warnings: None

Pairing: Satan x GN!MC

Words: 1080

2:56PM

Satan resists a growl as he paces in a small, tight circle in the corner of the RAD library. His fingernails, which are on the verge of becoming claws, are biting into his palms. He hopes he’s not bleeding. He’s planning on meeting you, as he often does between classes, and that would be embarrassing.

Fuck, he thinks, as he wrenches his hands apart to see angry, red crescents on his palms. But no blood, that’s good. Either way, he can’t let you see him in this state. The very idea is enough to make him feel sick. Satan sinks into a chair at your regular table in the corner and takes a deep, deep, breath, trying to steady his nerves. Trying to forget the argument he’d just had with the professor of Pactology.

You’d once mentioned that slowly counting to ten was a human method of controlling one’s anger.

So, he gives it a try, and he can almost feel it working. Then he hears your voice as you say goodbye to some of your friends outside the library’s entrance. His eyes snap open and he puts on a pleasant smile just as you appear from behind one of the tall shelves. As you approach him, your own bright smile falters.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” you ask, giving him a once over. Satan’s eyes widen briefly and he closes his hands.

“What? I’m fine,” he says slowly, carefully. To avoid it coming out from gritted teeth.

Your eyes search his face as you drag a chair over to sit next to him. After a quick inspection, you determine that something is wrong. “No, really, what happened?” you ask, placing your hand on his shoulder.

His eyebrows bunch up, “you can tell I’m upset?”

You nod, “you’re a good actor, Satan, but I can tell when something’s bothering you.”

Since the metaphorical cat is out of the bag, he sighs and starts to tell you about the argument he’d just had with his idiot professor. How she’d been giving the class the wrong information.

And when he raised his hand to correct her, she had to gall to scold and belittle him, as if there were no possible way a student could know more than her. Then ended her barrage against him by calling him the wrong name.

“She called you Lucifer?!” you screech, mortified. This earns you a glare from one of the librarians. You shrink into your seat until they pass by. Once the coast is clear, you ask again, in a more appropriate tone, “she called you Lucifer?”

“Yes.” he grits out, knuckles turning white as he grips the armrests. They’re probably moments away from being ripped off the chair.

“I’m sorry, Satan.” You rub at his arm in an attempt to sooth him. The two of you sit quietly for a few minutes. Your hand moves to his back, rubbing gentle circles between his shoulder blades. His eyes are closed and he subconsciously leans back against your hand.

You can feel the tension leaving him with every circle you make.

“I apologize.” he mutters, under his breath.

“For what?” you ask, hand temporarily stilling. He opens his eyes to look into yours.

“That you found me in such a bad mood. I was trying very hard to get myself under control.” he whispers. You smile softly and continue to massage his back.

“Satan, you’re allowed to get upset, ya know? That’s part of being... alive.” (You were about to say human, but that isn’t exactly applicable is it?)

“Yes, but—”

“No," you interrupt, “she was being unfair. She didn’t hear you out and she was being horrendously disrespectful. You had every right to be angry. As long as you don’t act on it, it’s okay.”

“Do you really feel that way?” he questions, with a head tilt.

“Of course I do. You didn’t destroy the classroom or threaten to disembowel her or something. You’re just irritated. Ya know, I’m surprised she started a fight with you anyway—”

“Because I’m Wrath?” he guesses, hurt written on his face.

“Because you’re very smart. And you’re the only one who gives half a fuck in that class.”

He blinks in surprise, then groans softly, “everyone thinks I’m just a copy of him. It makes me so…”

“I know, I know,” you whisper, moving to sit on the arm of his chair. He looks up at you. “You’re not a copy of anyone. You’re Satan. You’re the most intelligent, most well-read, kind, witty, handsome—” you slam your free hand over your mouth.

He smiles again, it’s genuine this time. You look away, face turning red.

“Um, I’m gonna go find a book on ancient pactology and we’ll show that old hag!” you say, standing abruptly before wandering off in the completely wrong direction. Satan laughs softly, then touches the back of his shoulder where your hand had just been.

He watches you stumble over your feet, then realize you’re going the wrong way. As you turn towards the correct section, you nearly walk into a bookcase. He chuckles again. His anger dissipated.

Something else flutters in his chest, he puts his hand over his heart. It’s not anger, or fury, or rage. It’s something much… softer. Lighter. Unfamiliar.

Once you return with a book, several hundred years older than you, you carefully set it down before opening it to the back. And as you run your finger down its index, Satan only looks at you.

If the books he reads are accurate, this feeling could only mean one thing. His eyes scan your face.

“Here we go,” you say, pulling the book towards him. Then you start to read a passage which probably proves his point, but the words aren’t quite registering. “See, you were right!” you exclaim, pointing to the words.

“Uh,” he glances down to read the details of how pacts were formed in the days long before your birth. “Of course.”

“Didn’t doubt you for a second,” you smile before looking up at the clock behind you. “Uh oh, my next class is in four minutes! I’ll see you later.” you say as you get up. You pat his head softly before exiting the library.

And suddenly his cheeks are on fire.

(He totally doesn’t sit there for the next fifteen minutes, imagining your hand on his back. And he certainly wasn’t late to class for the first time because of it. No sir.)

–

Thank you for reading! Please reblog!

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a coffee.

<3 Aerie

Hello!💖🦫 I don't know if your requests are open, but in case they are; can I ask for Slashers reacting to their s/o waking up from a nightmare?

And I don't want to ask for much, but it's okay if its gender neutral and has RZ!Michael and Bubba Sawyer?

Slashers x Reader

Characters: Bubba Sawyer, Rz! Michael Myers, OG! Michael Myers, Peepaw Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Erik Destler.

Okay so its almost 4am this might not make sense in some parts??? I apologize lol I'll fix any mistakes or weird shit later today/tomorrow. I hope this is okay!

Not proof read.

-

❥ Bubba is confused and alert-- he isn't sure if you saw or heard anything until you explain it was a nightmare. He's honestly had some so he can relate and he'd never judge you, even if the nightmares seem a little silly to others.

❥ This boy is the cuddle master. He's inexperienced but the pure joy and affection he gives you through cuddles make up for the occasional awkward moments. Bubba will try asking if you want held first so be prepared for some quiet babbling and hand gestures. He's fine with not getting any sleep if that means you feel safer.

❥ Now if the nightmare is brutal and you wake up screaming, sobbing, kicking-- you'll probably thrash around and hit him accidentally. This won't phase him at all though so it's alright. Tbh he's more concerned about the screaming than any small bruises he may get. Bubba hates seeing you in such a horrible situation and tries everything in the book.

❥ Bubba likes to gently touch your face and play with your hands. He hopes the sensations will calm you down enough to fall back asleep. He might hum if you ask sweetly. And if you do? He hums a song that reminds him of you.

❥ RZ! Michael also understands from personal experiences. Don't feel pressured to tell him right away, he knows you need time to calm down first. Don't tell him anything if that's something you'd prefer. Michael can't really force you to talk things out so he reminds you he's there when you're ready.

❥ He can be tender. Soft touches, rubbing your back, nuzzling closer into you so you feel more comfortable and safer. Michael hopes you know he will protect you and he even sleeps near the door, you're never on that side of the bed. He's prepared for basically anything.

❥ Eye contact whenever you open up about the nightmare. It's gentle, warm, and comforting. This tells you he is truly listening and not staring to zone out. Michael cares more than he lets on.

❥ Michael tries to coax you back to sleep by acting sleepy himself. His mind works like this: if I act calm.. they will feel safe enough to calm down too. Michael really tries to make the situation lighter by acting casual but during nights like these.. it's clear how much he worries about you in general.

❥ OG Michael is 50/50. Sure, he's had some.. okay, more than some. Michael has a traumatic past with sleep altogether from being sedated so much in Smith's Grove-- his brain does what it's meant to do most of the time and blocks out memories. Sometimes he remembers how it felt and other times he feels nothing and cannot understand.

❥ Michael won't show it but he is anxious when you start waking up and thrashing and crying. The most he shows physically is a head tilt, he's studying the way you react to fear thats not because of him and he realizes-- you cling to him for protection. Michael isn't going to go out of his way to be sweet and soft so don't get your hopes up.. however, if you were to lean into him, he won't move a single muscle.

❥ This fact alone warms his cold heart. You feel safe in his presence and it's going to mess with him a little. In the end he doesn't show it and acts like nothing is bothering him for your sake. He's aware that people feed off reactions.

❥ Michael stays awake the whole night to watch over you. He stares. Studies you more and more. You're definitely something to him, you're cherished and loved by him in his usual twisted ways.. and he totally doesn't cuddle closer when he thinks you're out completely. If you stay up but have good acting skills.. you'll feel him press himself against you and hold you protectively and rub any part of you that's in range. It's all innocent so don't worry about that.

❥ Peepaw Myers knows before you even wake up. Michael is an expert at reading your pulse.. he can tell when it spikes from fear, excitement, anxiety, etc. Michael reads you like a book.

❥ The second you start breathing differently he is awake and alert but not moving, his eyes remain closed. He waits until you start moving and that's when he will put a stop to it before it gets too bad. Michael more than likely holds you from behind most nights so you can expect this man to have an iron grip on you, you're not going anywhere.

❥ If he doesn't catch it quick enough then he makes you-- yes, he forces you to lay directly on his chest. Not off to the side. Nope. You're gonna lay right on top of him and let him hold you while you listen to his steady heartbeat. And if that don't work? He will probably crush you with his weight by reversing the roles and lays on you instead. Pressure helps some people and he is willing to try it for you- you're lucky he loves you..

❥ Peepaw is slightly more vocal with sounds and not necessarily words. Low hums, grunts, anything to let you know that he is there. Feel free to touch on him sweetly, rub on his chest or play with his grey scruff-- he likes it but acts like he only tolerates it.

❥ Thomas Hewitt has some damn good hearing despite Hoyt constantly yelling at him. Of course if he's in the basement working he can't hear but when in reasonable range he will hear you make the slightest noises and is immediately checking on you.

❥ Thomas will eye you down first to figure out what exactly is going on and he pays attention on how your body reacts. If you start getting too close to the potential of hurting yourself from all the moving around he will stop it as sweetly as possible.

❥ Breaks his heart knowing you can't have a peaceful sleep.. living in his home isn't healthy, he knows this. So he feels guilty and tries comforting you when you're awake.

❥ Tommy will more than likely drop whatever he is doing (since he works late) and cleans up before getting in bed with you. You'll be held so snug like you're in a cocoon. And if you ever wanna talk about the nightmares, he's going to listen and offer any kind of help possible. Tell him what will make it easier and he's on it asap.

❥ Erik has insomnia. He struggled with sleep his whole life and practically lives off third shift timing at this point. This means you sleep when he's still wide awake and composing more music.

❥ The lair echoes. He will hear any whimpers, cries, etc.. Erik is immediately alerted by it and wastes no time on checking in with you. If you're still asleep, he watches for a few minutes and tries covering you back up in hopes it'll help. But if you wake up and can't fall back asleep.. yeah, you guessed it, this man is going to sing the most beautiful song that he wrote, specifically for you.

❥ Erik is insecure. He will mentally question if he did anything, if you're truly happy with him and how you live most your days under the opera house. Reassure him that's not it and he will eventually let that mindset go and then focuses on whatever meets your needs and expectations in order to feel better.

❥ Singing you to sleep + cuddling? Always. It's something so intimate and kind, purely from the heart and soul. Erik is soft spoken and will caress you anywhere you allow him to.. all night. He won't sleep at all due to his own habits but also because he genuinely wants to watch over his angel.

i hope i drew them w/ justice >< 

Brahms Heelshire

AN: Brahms is here!!

Warnings: major character death, violence, Brahms being insane and his usual toxic self, swearing

"What do you think you're doing?"

His voice was alarmed, panicked, as if he saw you holding a knife instead of a pair of pants. Brahms had that kind of thing where he'd worry about the tiniest things. A word that wasn't pronounced like he was used to, food that didn't taste like usual, mistakes that broke the routine. It made him uneasy, and scared.

You were standing in front of the bed, trying to decide what clothes to wear. The satin sheets were littered with varying clothing articles arranged close to each other to determine which colors matched.

"The new girl who brings the groceries invited me into town to show me around in case she can't go shopping for us. I thought I'd go, you know-", you gestured towards him, "in case there's an emergency."

Brahms was quiet for a few seconds, still observing you while nervously grasping the edge of the door.

He didn't want you to go. Not at all. You wouldn't come back if he let you go.

"I don't want you to go.", he mentioned his worries quietly, voice dropping deeper, now that he knew he had to stop you. It sent shivers down your body, the way his childish voice faded. As if a switch inside him just clicked.

"I know, Brahms, but I think it's for the best.", you smiled at him sweetly, finally deciding what clothes to wear, "And it'll be just for one evening."

Brahms felt anxiety rise in the pit of his stomach like bile. No. You couldn't go. He didn't want you to. His parents went away too, and they never came back.

"I don't want you to go.", this time it was louder, more rushed, more panicked. Brahms knuckles had turned white from holding onto the door frame.

"Brahms,", you sighed quietly, swiftly putting on your pants, "I know this seems scary to you, but it'll be fine."

The way you kept insisting that you'd go made him swallow harshly. Even just the idea of having to stay here alone, knowing you'd leave him, made him feel sick and hopeless inside. His stomach churned.

No, he wouldn't let you leave.

"I'm not scared,", Brahms shook his head vehemently, making the dark brown locks dance in front of his face, "I just don't want you to go."

You rolled your eyes at him, swiftly putting the clothes back into your dresser. Did he always have to be such a child? You understood the whole trauma, commitment issue thing, but god, it was annoying sometimes. He was a grown man after all, he should be able to stay alone for a few hours.

"Brahms, I will go.", you stated with a curt nod in his direction, "It's just one evening, I'm sure you'll survive."

Another eye roll from you accompanied the statement. This conversation was not what you wanted before leaving the house, even if a small part of you knew you'd had to face this the second you accepted the offer.

Something clicked inside the man in front of you at the sight of you being so careless about all of this. Did you even care about his feelings in this whole situation? You loved him, didn't you? Then why be so cold about all of this? Maybe you wanted to leave him, you wanted to be with someone else, betray him, and everything he felt for you. Jealousy seeped into hos system, clouding his thoughts.

"I said no.", he yelled, moving in front of you, blocking the door with his body.

He was huge as he loomed over you, and even though you trusted him with your life, you flinched back a little, intimidated by his size. He was breathing heavily, chest heaving while hot air hit you through the holes of his mask.

"Brahms.", every bit of warmth had left your voice, and you pressed your hands against your hips, sending a cold stare to the man in front of you. You had enough.

But the brunette just kept breathing heavily, never once breaking eye contact. His gaze would've scared you if he didn't behave so childishly. Just like always.

The two of you kept looking at each other, eyes fighting a war one could never express with words. Just as Brahms was about to give in, ready to cling to you if that meant you staying, the deafening ringing of the doorbell echoed through the large, empty house.

Both of your heads snapped towards the big entrance door, temporarily forgetting about the tension in the room beforehand. You sent one glance back to Brahms, and before he could react, pushed yourself through the gap between him and the door, leaving him behind. What a mistake.

Brahms stared at his hands for a few seconds, in disbelief, before his eyes followed your form marching down the stairs.

His vision turned red with rage. How could you. How did you dare.

With his stare never once leaving you, he started steering towards you. It felt like his sight was restricted, the only thing he perceived a tunnel vision and at the end of it, you.

And you came closer and closer as he followed you, your body now nearly in reach.

Like in a trance, the brunette noticed his heartbeat throbbing in his ears, as well with a sharp, piercing beeping that made his skin tingle.

One of his hands got a hold of your arm, and with a strength he didn't look like he possessed, he pulled you back against him.

You wouldn't leave. You'd never, ever leave. He'd make sure of it, even if it meant he'd have to chain you to the bed.

You, however, grew furious as soon as you felt his skin on yours and with one sharp push, you shoved the man away from you and against the banister. Brahms yelped as his spine hit the sharp edge of the wood, but right now, you couldn't care less.

"Touch me again, and I'll leave and never-", your voice was dripping pure venom, eyes shooting ice-cold daggers at the man in front of you, "-ever come back."

That was the final straw, the final statement.

With a grunt and a loud, final "No!", Brahms forced you away from him. His strong arms pushed you back as he stepped forward, locks sticking to the sweat on his neck.

He saw you fall as if someone froze time. The way your foot missed the step, the way your eyes widened as you stumbled backwards, arms fishing around the air, searching, hoping, for something that could catch your fall. Your pretty mouth opened in a scream, you tried to grab the wooden railing next to you but failed as your body flew back without you having any control.

A loud, sickening crack filled the open lobby like a gunshot, and then it was silent. Dead silent. Brahms noticed that the doorbell stopped. The bitch must've realized that no one was coming.

Brahms took a deep breath, swallowing blood he didn't know he had in his mouth as he glanced down the staircase. He didn't see nor hear you. Anxiety filled his brain, earlier rage swept away as if he'd forgotten about it.

"...Y/n?", he whispered, voice suddenly small and high-pitched again, filled with fear. He didn't mean it, he didn't mean it, oh lord, he didn't mean it. He hoped you wouldn't be angry.

"Y/n? I'm sorry.", Brahms took a few small steps down the stairs, hands gripping the railing as if he'd fall when he'd let go. A few more steps, and he saw your leg behind one of the banisters, unmoving.

A few more steps and your torso came into view pressed into the carpet of the staircase.

"Y/n...?", Brahms didn't know why he was talking so quietly. He didn't know what was going on at all. He just wanted you to stay with him and now- he swallowed harshly.

A few more steps and he saw it. Your head had hit the floor on your fall down, breaking your neck on impact. Blood pooled around the skull, face sickly twisted and contorted as your skin had moved to give space to your moving bones. Dead, cold eyes stared up at him, lidded and filled with... fear.

The masked man moved closer, slowly and quietly, as he looked down at you. A few seconds later and he was kneeling on the ground, gently reaching out to touch your cheek. It was warm but felt weird, like a doll, like dough. It scared him, even if he didn't know why.

"Y/n...", the killer softly petted your cheek smearing a bit of blood over your skin during the process, "M'sorry. Just didn't want you to leave."

His voice was small and scared, like a child apologizing for eating too much candy, or breaking Mother's favorite vase.

Brahms anxiously waited for an answer. When he didn't get one, he stood up, slowly moving backwards. What was he going to do now?

"I'll wait upstairs, okay?"

No answer.

"I am sorry, Y/n.", the corners of his mouth pulled down like a giant, exaggerated pout. He looked a child. A child stuck in the body of a grown man.

Brahms slowly made his way upstairs, softly trudging over the carpet.

It was still deathly silent in the lobby, the only noise came from the big clock, ticking away in the corner.

As soon as Brahms reached the end of the stairs, he looked down one more time, hoping to see your face follow him, your sweet voice call out for him, but nothing moved.

Sighing, he made his way to his room, hoping that even though this time, he'd made a grave mistake, you'd still forgive him. After all, you loved him, right?

AN: I love the idea of Brahms not understanding death and "falling back" into his childish self because of it. I thought it fits well. I'd love to hear your opinions though.

The Bros get caught under the mistletoe with you

notes: i wanted to do something for Christmas... Although its early, I think it would be pretty cool ta do this! sorry its a bit short, by the way. cw: none I can think of

.ೃ࿐ Well.. he doesn’t really know why that strange plant was up there in the first place. He’s heard of the tradition, yes, but who in the actual world put it there? They’re gonna receive a good scolding after this.

.ೃ࿐ After he glares at the mistletoe for a good minute, he turns his focus to you. Wait, hold on. Does that mean he could kiss you?

.ೃ࿐ He gets so smug about it, too. If you point out the mistletoe to him, he’ll just act as if he was oblivious to the whole thing. But if you don’t-

“Ah, what a troubling situation we’ve got ourselves in. Though, I’d feel I would be disrespecting this season if I were to not follow the tradition, don’t you agree?”

.ೃ࿐ Was probably just dragging you around to run from… something, really, when has he not been running from anything? /j

.ೃ࿐ While you two catch your breath, you notice something above both of you. Yep, ya guessed it. The awaited mistletoe! You gesture to it, looking at Mammon. He looked above you both, then looked at you back with confusion.

.ೃ࿐ Hasn’t heard of the tradition before, as you explain it, he slowly gets more and more flustered.

“I-It ain’t like I wanted to follow that stupid plant’s rules or anythin’! But… Guess there’s no helpin’ it if we’re already here.”

.ೃ࿐ It happened completely by chance. Neither of you was expecting it.

.ೃ࿐ You and him were just waiting around for the other to make a move. He saw this kind of stuff in anime and manga, he didn’t expect it to ACTUALLY happen to him though. While he’s nervously shuffling his feet, you assure him that he wouldn’t need to if he wasn’t comfortable with it.

“NO- I mean… It’s bad—no, NO, It's not… Gah, I mean! It wouldn’t be so bad if you were the one I’d have to, you know…!”

.ೃ࿐ He looks up at the mistletoe, then looks back at you, seemingly trying to read your expressions. He knows the whole deal about mistletoes, of course. But he isn’t sure if you were alright with it.

.ೃ࿐ He’d gesture to the mistletoe, looking at you expectantly.

“It seems we’ve been caught by this mistletoe. Would you like to follow the tradition with me? Only if you’d like to, of course.”

.ೃ࿐ Probably has a mistletoe in his pockets, so he could kiss you on-the-go. That little …

.ೃ࿐ He brings it out when he wants a kiss from you, waving it above both of you. He knows he could just ask for a kiss, but isn’t this method much more fun?

“Hehe, what a shame! We’re under the mistletoe! You know what that means, right, dearie~?”

.ೃ࿐ Beel was too busy wolfing down some roasted potatoes to notice, so you had to point it out to him yourself.

.ೃ࿐ He looked at the mistletoe, swallowing the last whole potato. He then turned to you and smiled.

“Oh, I heard about this Asmo. He kept talking about it all day… Do you want to try this out with me?”

.ೃ࿐ He was just walking around with you, trying to find a suitable nap spot. Belphie saw something unusual above you two, though.

.ೃ࿐ You notice him looking at it with a puzzled look on his face and proceeded to explain the whole deal of the tradition to him.

“Huh... That's kinda weird, but I don’t mind if it means I can kiss you.”

OM: New Event System Guide

Firstly, unless Solmare change their mind, the new mechanic introduced in the current event is intended to be permanent.

This is how events will function from this time forward, from the Celestial loot boxes to the lack of SSRs in the event Nightmare.

My guide for the new events is one step long and very simple:

DON'T.

~

Events in the new system no longer have rewards. Instead they have prizes available via loot boxes, a type of gambling.

Loot boxes are required in most legal systems to list their odds of each item - even if those odds are equal. Solmare has not done this and risks the game being pulled from international app stores as a result.

If the odds are indeed flat, your chances of getting the first character SSR (Simeon) is 1 in 250, as each box has 250 items. You have to get that card twice in order to open the next box.

To get the SSR costs up to 125,000 points.

Versus the old system, 100,000 for the SSR.

To get the demon UR costs 500,000 points.

Versus the old system, 285,000 for the UR.

~

The number of battles remains the same - 83 per day if the extra battles via adverts are available.

The base reward per battle is 120 points.

The base daily total is 9960.

The base event total is 119,520.

ie, not enough for the SSR.

(This is a keyed event so the base event total will be lower than this in fact.)

~

The event Nightmare contains no SSR or SR cheat cards, only URs.

The odds of pulling an event UR do not change regardless of increasing or decreasing the number of URs.

The odds remain at 0.5%, ie an average of 1 UR for every 200 pulls.

This means your chances of having a higher battle total due to cheat cards is far lower than in previous events.

The only way to get higher odds is to use a UR voucher. You can try and win one for just 625,000 points ಠ_ಠ

~

The loot boxes contain more prizes in terms of backgrounds, icons, and random items, as well as AP, DP and DV.

However, your chances of getting any of these is far small (1 in 250 per box), rendering most of the prizes useless, and opening the next box dependent on you earning up to 250 openings of the previous box.

~

By the way, the Charge Missions this time around are also more expensive - anything from $200-400 depending on your currency - and no longer count level up sales or spending DP towards the totals.

Only purchased DP counts.

~

tl;dr

In order to get the Diavolo and Lucifer URs you will have to earn up to 1,000,000 points.

Your odds of getting any one prize are 1/250.

Not listing odds of loot boxes is legally and ethically dubious and misleading.

It is possible to do 200 pulls and get only one UR.

This is the planned event mechanic going forward - without the 100 (x2) free pulls.

There is no guaranteed card prize for ftp players.

~

Finally, please be aware that loot boxes are GAMBLING.

Obey Me has gone from a game that included one element of gambling via gacha, to a game that is solely reliant on gambling.

Nightmare is gambling.

Event prizes are gambling.

Gambling without odds listed is horrifically irresponsible.

Gambling games are NOT SUITABLE for minors.

People with adhd, anxiety, depression, and so forth are all at higher risk of falling prey to spending spirals and gambling addiction.

Please do not waste your money 😞

~

this tiny hop