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#and god the TAGS..... the cycle continues
makiswirl · 1 year
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ova redraws (sillies)
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kaseyskat · 2 years
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being both a sparrow apologist and a normal enthusiast is so difficult sometimes I am sitting here imagining them bonding and crying over canon and so few people truly understand me
#kasey rambles#dndads#no you guys dont understand. sparrow is a good parent! to me!!!#which is highly ironic because i was FURIOUS at him on my first listen#BUT. theres a post that puts this into words somewhere. about how judging sparrow for saying something#when he was in a state of complete vulnerability#FEELS like thoughtshaming a bit. because like#i think sparrow has this mentality of. i dont have to be proud of someone to love them. and i will love them so hard in spite#because he gets too in his head and he worries and he doesnt want normal to be like him#and he feels like this about henry and lark too- hes not proud of them. in fact theyve both actively mistreated him. but he loves them#and that's enough#its like. we're not sitting here bashing on grant for the REALLY shitty way he inflicts his own self loathing onto link#because we know grant only says this when hes vaguely sauced#but sparrow gets SO much heat for saying hes not proud of normal when he was both drunk AND sauced simultaneously#and maybe like. if there were signs that sparrows let this mentality ruin their relationship in the past?#but theres not. the reason it hurts normal so much is because it was UNEXPECTED.#it made him doubt his own memories and his history but. as far as we know. its only doubts. sparrow loves normal so much#and sparrows always been the first one sitting there apologizing (which is another story: we love seeing him continue the oak cycle)#and loving. and accepting normals anger.#god this was such a rant im sorry for anyone actually reading my tags shdjfkdkkfvk#i just have such strong feelings about how like. in comparison? sparrow is NOT as bad of a parent as yall think he is#and i think the only reason we think otherwise is because we only see him through normal#if we got his own pov? youd forgive him just like we forgive henry#also i would kill for sparrow choosing normal over lark i feel like thats a decision hes gonna have to make pretty soon
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arealcrow · 1 year
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thinking Really hard about the themes of abuse and trauma and breaking cycles, and this quote from ketheric's fight at the end of act 2
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eggmeralda · 5 months
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I wish there was a way you could put like. every song in the world on shuffle
#spotify playlists made for you are not enough#bc they're based on music i already like and i don't Wanna Hear Music I Already Like#god i need a hyperfixation that is Stable and also New (not a revival of one I've had since I was 16)#bc they introduce me to music i wouldn't have even thought of ever going near#not to compare everything to the highs of my tflu obsession but like?#that introduced me to So Much Music (some related. some not)#i probably listened to more genres in 2022 than i have ever listened to in my life#but idk. i could just listen to some random genre i have no interest in but what would be the point?#there needs to be a sort of 'hilda would've liked this in the 40s' 'this reminds me of swagtre' 'this is literally the plot of nddp' etc#sort of connection#but all i have right now is the endless cycling continuation of the south park obsession i had in 2016. which makes it very easy to just#listened to the music i listened to back then#also it's like. I've seen everything in that fandom there's nothing new i can really get out of it?#it's more just a mix of nostalgia and it's like. easy to get into bc idk. a lot of characters and storylines so you don't get bored in one#place for so long. almost the perfect obsession if it wasn't literally South Park#but surely i can just type in a character's name on spotify and find new music that way?#hahaha No#bc every single sp playlist I've looked through only seems to use like the same 10 songs. and i don't really like any of them#also 'he would not fucking say that' except it's 'he would not fucking listen to that'#most of the time. idk#i need new Vibes that's the problem#there's always a new vibe going on at all times but it seems to have stopped around the start of this year#maybe i just need a job. once i have a job there'll be a location i go to regularly. and I'll have to travel there in some way. and that#will be a new experience. and there'll be new vibes#I'll probably stumble across a new hyperfixation in the process. and then find new music from it#but for now everything is so stagnant and all i really listen to is 80s/90s indie pop and then just music i've listened to since I was 14#i can't even ask for recommendations bc even if i like a song it has nothing to stick to in my brain#i'll be like ''this is a cool song i like it'' and listen to it on repeat and then go off it like a day later#oh fuck tag limit#ramble
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vypridae · 11 months
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i cant tell which art style i want to take inspiration from anymore
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haljathefangirlcat · 2 years
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Siegmund and Sieglinde in Siegfried by Alex Alice
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abyssarts · 2 years
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i've seen a misinterpretation of the caption on my dollhouse piece and like. i'm not upset about the misinterpretation but i do wanna clarify:
the "false sense of security" does not mean homura is intentionally causing harm to anyone (aside from the incubators). the world she created is fragile and was forged out of a desperation to protect those she loves, even if it means they'll all end up resenting her for her actions. any sense of normalcy or security they have while in homura's new world is literally false in that it's the result of memory manipulation, and the foundation of her world is on the brink of collapse at all times.
i fuckin love homura for all her flaws and bad decisions. i do not at all subscribe to the idea that she's evil in any sense of the word, but i also don't think she "had" to rewrite the universe in her own image, yknow? there were plenty of other ways she coulda protected madoka from the incubators' influence post-rebellion. the reason why she threw away her only chance at true happiness was because she had been pushed to her absolute limit during rebellion and was in no state of mind to be making good decisions
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sttoru · 6 months
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𝝑𝑒 synopsis. after being married to satoru for two years, you still giggle and (secretly but not so secretly) fangirl about him whenever given the chance. your husband absolutely loves indulging you.
tags. husband!gojo satoru x wife!female reader. fluff, sfw, tiny bits of angst. tooth rotting fluff yeah. reader gets called ‘princess, baby’. inspired by this ask.
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“and and and, his smile ‘s just so beautiful,” you sigh dreamily, resting your head on satoru’s lap. you’re both enjoying the cozy night in your shared apartment. with no one bothering you—with no regards for the world that’s continuing its cycle outside.
satoru chuckles as he pats your head slowly, taking his time to appreciate every feature of yours. from your pink-ish lips to your pretty eyes. he’s so in love with the creation god has gifted him. he nods attentively, “yeah? what else?”
you giggle as he indulges you. it’s a habit of yours, to fangirl over your husband like you’re not literally his wife. satoru finds it absolutely adorable. plus, it boosts his ego. in a very good way.
“aaaand, he’s caring. that’s the one thing i love most about him,” you continue to ramble about your little ‘crush’ on that so-called mysterious white-haired sorcerer. satoru wishes he could capture this moment and keep repeating it over and over in his head.
the way you talk about your crush - him - is filling his stomach with butterflies. the tall man can’t deny the faint blush on his cheeks and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. you keep getting cuter and cuter the more time passes.
when he thinks you’ve reached a state of perfection in his eyes, you once again prove him wrong and go beyond that. “caring, hm? he must treat my princess real good then,” satoru hums and continues petting your head. his other hand rubs your stomach—fingers creeping under the material of your nightgown.
“he does,” you nod in agreement, “he treats me so well. i don’t know how i got so lucky to have met him.” you squirm a little as you feel satoru’s slender fingers graze your midriff, going back down to your belly and then back up your chest again. his touch is so intimate and loving. you’re spoiled. spoiled rotten by his affection.
satoru sighs. his white lashes flutter shut for a second. hearing you say such stuff makes him want to check if it’s reality he’s in. if it isn’t another too-good-to-be-true dream of his. no one had loved him as much as you did.
it feels good to know that he’s wanted. needed.
“no, i think he is the lucky one,” satoru continues. his hand petting your head stops and he moves it to rub your cheek tenderly. he leans his head down, the tips of your noses touching. he whispers, “having a pretty girl like you love him so dearly… yeah, he’s won the lottery.”
your heart skips a beat. satoru’s words leave you speechless. you don’t know if you can keep up the little silly act anymore. his flirting, the teasing and the genuineness behind his words—it’s all too much.
you grab the back of his head and push his lips down against yours. satoru’s breath hitches for a second before he gives in to you. he visibly melts, eyes closing and hands tightening their grip around your body.
“mmh,” satoru lets out a content moan. he loves you. he’s glad he’s met you and he’s glad he made you his wife two years back. you’re the only one for him. death won’t do you apart—no—he promised you on your wedding day that it wouldn’t.
you kiss him like it’s your last kiss on earth. the spark between you is still as warm and strong as it was when you met. the people who’ve warned you about the ‘honeymoon phase’ are clearly all wrong. they aren’t aware of the strength your bond with satoru has. you’re inseparable.
“i love you,” you sigh against satoru’s glossy lips and he deepens the kiss after that.
somebody loves him. somebody cares for him. that’s all he needs in life. his life is complete with you in it. he smiles against your lips and says the three words back, with more passion than ever before, “i love you too, my angel.”
nothing will ever separate you. not fate. not anyone.
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eunuchve · 8 months
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tags: mdni, smut, dragon!morax, MONSTERFUCKING, rut/mating cycles, predator/prey, double dragon cocks, double penetration, CERVIX FUCKING, size kink, mentioning pregnancy, mating, bro has a worship kink, breeding kink hints (he's in a rut dont hold it against him) a.n: (what have i done) this is the first porn with plot I've written and I gotta say; it is damn long.... happy valentines my dears, enjoy! pairings: zhongli x afab!reader
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Lord Morax is a god; but he is more than that, he is an adeptus. illuminated beast. this fact needs no introduction, everyone knows. 
so when he took leave to a remote part of liyue somewhere, unknown to even his retainers, no one dared to bat an eye. the rain has fallen heavy, the season has become damp, and the scheduled time is near; Rex Lapis will have his rut.
it didn't take long for people to figure out the reasons for his absence; not when the lord became increasingly unfocused during stately meetings a week prior or when his eyes would turn to slits with a whiff of a woman's perfume for a month’s time.
You, the lone herb picker of a local pharmacy, didn't know any better when you stumbled upon a large hollowed-out cave that wasn't supposed to be there. you are familiar with the terrains, hell, you know it like the back of your hand -- so imagine your surprise when you find a nesting dragon inside, heaving, grunting alone; its horns glowing with a bright amber before its head snapped to your directly, eyes instantly turning to slits.
at first, you stumble backwards, watching as the figure slowly but surely towers over your frame; your neck cranes to meet its molten bronze eyes. it didn't take you long to realise whose privacy you had so ungraciously barged into; your mouth dries and you dropped your basket full of violetgrass, your heart beating out of your chest before your feet finally got some sense and took running to the woods. 
'fuck fuck fuck.'
you are going to die- you are so sure you are going to die. when your feet stumble and trip over branches and air, when you can hear him gliding through the sky; undoubtedly searching for you. The sounds of his scaled body burst through the leaves of the ginkgo trees, or of his deep, rough growls that echo through the forest. With every heavy step you take, you can feel him getting closer and closer. The thrill and fear mix inside of you, your body stirs with blood coursing through you. Weirdly amid the fear you feel-- somehow excitement came into the mix; something about your life being in the mercy of a chase?
Why is he there again? Rut? So will he fuck you or will he kill you? You certainly prefer one to the other. 
Your legs continue to run, even as you trip and fall, or when you stumble upon a rock or two; searching for an exit to a nearby village or open path; but no matter how far you run you can't seem to find the correct way. Your eyes scanned all directions before your body was suddenly pinned down under a sudden force and unmoving weight.
The paws of a creature so large that it covers your entire back, its talons digging into your back. The smell of freshly dug earth and exotic spices violates your nostrils and your heart can't help but thump against your chest just a little faster. You turned your neck, finding the dragon’s face mere inches from yours; his hot breath grazing the exposed skin of your neck. 
“Please don’t kill me.” god your voice sounds so desperate; with a hint of a broken whimper- even you are embarrassed by that fact. but your god didn't seem disturbed, instead he let out a low grunt, before hissing back a reply.
"don't beg."
"...huh?"
"don't." he spat the word, seeming holding something back. "beg."
"b-but--"
he didn't let you finish, picking you up by the scruff of your neck before throwing you to his back. he flew you back somewhere, you didn't care to notice since most of the flight back you are scrambling for something to hold on to; whether it is the golden spines or his actual body.
by the time you both arrive at the entrance of the familiar cave, he has waited for you to get off his back. you inclined, of course, shakily getting a feel of the ground below, catching your breath whilst adrenaline courses through you. once you get a feel yourself, your eyes travel to him, catching his large form walking slowly to the back of the cave.
"you won't kill me?" you find yourself asking; his head then slowly turns to you before, a visible look of confusion etched on it.
"Why would I?" his deep rough voice replies. he is definitely holding something back, the way his lips parted a bit to let steam out of his mouth, the sharp teeth that are visible from them make you gulp the pooling saliva in your mouth.
"Because... cave..."
weak reasoning, you'd have to admit, but if he won't kill you then you'd have to be sure of the other possibility. "then would you fuck me?"
the look on his face deepened before his head hung low, and a soft whisper came to you for a reply. "what makes you think of that?"
"It's your- Rex Lapis it's your time of..."
embarrassed, incredibly embarrassed; that's the feeling you felt, with the heat of blood rushing to your cheek and thumping heart against your chest only enforcing the fact.
"it is time for my rut, yes," he confirmed, his gaze thrown to the floor, avoiding your figure, "but I am not one with lost senses; sleep, it is night, it will be safer to leave in the morning."
you nod weakly, shuffling your way to the walls and plopping down on the dirt before curling up. the heat in your cheeks refuses to prevail as you watch him walk back, his long tail moves with each step he takes, the tuff at the end resembling that of golden clouds.
"My lord why are you moving so far away?" you asked, instantly biting your lip the moment that question escaped your mind, realising how desperate you sounded with that pretence.
"your arousal," he states matter of factly. "you. I can smell it."
you look at him wide-eyed, your face now comparable in its heat to the sun, your lips agape.
"it's safer for you this way," he continues.
"do you not want to?" archons you are greedy aren't you. "your rut- I can.. help..."
"I doubt it." his voice is precise, he says it like it's a fact, not even letting you have a space to express your desire. "they are the size of your thigh and their length..."
"I can try." bold- now you are being too bold. the size of your thigh he said? now you can feel your ears getting heated up from the shame. your thigh now pressed together as you imagine him inside of you; a second pass and your arms no longer placed nicely on your lap, instead instinctively protecting your chest.
his gaze looms over you, his snout now only a hairsbreadth away from your neck; a long deep breath he takes is audible before he groans out a reply.
"Do not test me human," something inside of him is threatening undone, you know it, "I will breed you till your womb is full and your consciousness lost-- if that is not what you desire then stay quiet and sleep; I shall bring you the village in the morning but until then speak not of this."
you gulp, now your lips parted before you crane your neck and place a shaky kiss on his scaled cheek, the heat of his body contrasting the cold of your flesh. "... that is what I desire--"
with that your clothes are torn apart; the valuable silk you spend months of your wage on is gone and your naked skin is exposed. the cold air hardened your nipples and he took notice, his head travelling down, his long forked tongue lapping sweetly onto them, earning your strangle out a moan.
"getting aroused from a chase," he breathes out, almost teasing you; hot breath contrasts that of the cooling saliva on your perked buds, sending vibrations down your spine. "thinking you can take a dragon's cocks, wanting to be the mother of my offsprings -- what bold actions you possessed."
you let out a whine, his tongue now travelling down, ever so subtly closing down to your cunt. you pressed your thighs together; embarrassed, already feeling your arousal seeping out of you before his claws forced them wide open, earning your moan.
"you are pooling my dear," he almost chuckled, his eyes narrowed as he licked his lips, his breath now grazing your quivering folds, unexpected whimper broken out of you.
"please?"
with that word you can feel the air snap hotter, his eyes now meeting yours; his form towering over you before he chuckle, training down kisses, his tongue now making sure you are covered in his scent.
"didn't I tell you not to beg?" his claws hold your thigh open and he took a lap of your cunt, almost smiling at your taste. "do you know why my dear?"
"n-no--"
your moans escape, feeling his tongue entering you, fucking you, stimulating your walls, not letting you escape. you arched your back, biting your lips as another whimper persisted. you feel his hand moving, now pressing his claws to your other hole, expecting you to open up; and you let him, your holes now stuffed full of him before you feel his tongue slip out of you, your whine tells him as much about what you want.
"Because if you beg..." he now moves his hands to your ankles, folding you in half and you watch helplessly, his two golden cocks decorated with geometric lines and veins on either side, one on top of the other- he does not lie, the size of those things are comparable to your thigh, its length will most likely penetrate your womb- "I will answer."
he chuckles subtly, aligning his cocks to both of your holes, its weight now pressing down on you, precum leaks out of them, lubricating you further.
"i am a god, my dear; I always answer."
with that he presses his cock head to your holes, hoping both of them will ease up. you moan his title out, causing him to snap his head to you, making him greedy.
Your little groan and hiss only help you muster up the strength to let loose, feeling your holes easing up before they let his cockheads in, making your chest heave.
he grunts against your neck; and you feel his teeth subtly tracing your shoulder, little nips that satiate his hunger, burying his head in its crook.
"Celestia." the way you feel around the tip of his cock is incomparable; the dragon finds himself clenching down his jaw, controlling his urges to slam you down to its hilt. "you are made for me my dear."
he grabs a hold of your hips, and you feel him sliding you down. you let out a low moan, your back still arched as you feel him inside of you more and more. the burn from the stretch doesn't scare you, even if you feel like you are being split in two- you only know the pleasure that waits for you not so out of reach.
not even halfway and you already feel him brushing against your cervix, your broken moan coupled with the way you rolled your hips almost makes him snap. his other cock too now deep inside of you- almost too deep; you feel the pressure against your throat, feeling his cocks twitch, almost making you jolt, your hand searching from his arm, nails now digging into his scales.
he looks at you, his parted lips letting out steam before his uneven breathing stops to let him speak. "I shall move now."
you look at him, biting your lips and nod firmly, affirming your readiness. you feel him trying to go out of you, your cunt and hole tightening around him, almost hungry before he slams into you, earning your cry of pleasure.
it persists; he goes out of you before he slips inside, messaging your walls before they tightened around him again, hungrily seeking him, your face now fucked out with pleasure, feeling him abuse your holes.
"I'm not even all the way in my dear." he almost smirks, you can see it. before you know it, you suddenly feel him picking you up, your walls being freed from his cocks, suddenly empty and you whine; letting him flip you to your stomach and holding your ass up in the air.
he marvels at the sight, seeing both of your holes gape yet clench down on nothing, it almost made him giddy.
"my beautiful follower," he mused, his claws now digging into your flesh before you feel his cocks lining up with your holes again; embarrassingly you can feel your cunt relaxing, ready to take him in once more. "will you be my mate now darling?"
"yes!" your desperation stays, you want him inside you so bad, "please Rex Lapis please!"
you didn't know what did, but you certainly awaken something in him. he brings you up in the air before slamming you down on his cocks, your walls now taking him fully, your stomach bulging out with his shape. your breath knocks out of you; you can feel him all the way in your womb, your hand can't help but trace the raised flesh, your spine almost shivering from the sensation.
"keep begging."
that sounds like an order; even your now fucked out brain knows that. so like the good follower you are you follow that order.
"Please make me your mate," you choke out, his slow rhythms that know your breath slowly but surely going faster, brushing up against all your pleasure spots, making you roll your eyes to the back of your head. "please please please please I wanna- I want--"
he chuckles, the way you mewl your pleas, the way your warm flesh tightens around him; he can even feel your walls hungrily sucking him in so nicely. in his mind he is thanking Celestia; because fuck, you are a masterpiece.
"a human could die from this," he grunts out, going in and out of you with an inhuman pace, your cunt and hole loosening with his movements. "not you my dear; you are made for me."
you whine from his statement, the bludge he created only drives you to the edge, feeling something inside of you tightening, your nails digging into his scaled flesh, your face supported by his nose. "R-rex Lapis i- my-- i'm--"
"you want to cum my dear?" he almost teases you with the question, his cock brushing, bullying your g spot, making you dig your nails further, your head could only nod desperately at his question. "hold it, you could only cum when I do."
you whine out with his order, and he lets out a subtle groaning with it, chuckling at your reaction. his hand moves down, large talons brushing against your hard clit, teasing the nub; knowing exactly what it will make you do.
you wrapped your arm around his neck, his golden mane brushing against your flesh so softly; and your tug your face on them, muffling out your long moan and desperate cries.
"fuck- please lord mo- morax- r-rex lapis please- i want- i wanna- please please please-"
he kept his word, his face moving and kissing your neck, feeling you move your pelvis to fit him better, your inside hungrily brushing against his shaft. his brow knits, he feels himself almost coming undone.
"now."
with a final thrust, he fills both of your holes with white ropes of cum, you yourself arching your back, feeling your orgasm hits you harder than ever before. he hear your pants before he coils around you, closing gaps between the two of your while still being inside of you, wrapped up by your own warmth.
"i shall make the wedding preparation after the season's over," he breath out; your mind finally able to join the sentence together before you move your head, repeating the most important word again.
"wedding..."
"of course my dear," he kisses you, his snout pressed against your jaw before he tugs his head onto your collar bone. his hand travels to your stomach, rubbing the visible buldge that only grows with his cum, almost making look pregnant.
"the little ones will be coming soon."
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falloffrost · 8 months
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#SOMETHING UNEXPECTED
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pairing: Dina x Ellie x Reader
tags: smut, fingering, MY LOVES
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Life seemed average, a repeated cycle you could never seem to get out of. Bland, overused and average.
“YN, you need to get out more! All you do is work and sleep!” Jesse complains. But how could you “get out more” if the whole world was under attack by human beings infected by fungus?
“Jesse, m’not going out tonight. I gotta patrol early tomorrow, I don’t have time f’drinking.” You scoff, closing the book you were reading and placing it in the nearby nightstand. “You’re so boring, you never do anything fun.” He rolls his eyes and exits the room.
You never enjoyed parties anyways. You always felt like an outcast to this whole group of people, you were surprised they even let you stay this damn long. You had showed up out of no where and yet they let you in after a check for infection.
The day continued like usual. Eat, Work, Sleep, Repeat, and obviously the necessities. You groan as you awake, your hair bed head a lot messier than usual. You rub your temples as you exit the hard bed that was seemingly put together from sheets and scattered pillows found around.
You somehow found yourself assigned to early patrol with Ellie and Dina. It wasn’t that you disliked them, it was that you liked them a little too much. Somehow, they distracted you from your daily routine, always pulling you somewhere you didn’t need to be, forcing you to explore things you’d never explored. But today it seemed there was a lot of tension in the area. The snow not making it any better as the freezing air made the freeze of the silence grow thicker.
Silence engulfed the whole ride, until they approached an abandoned warehouse that had a harsh smell of weed. Inside a whole farm of it, just growing like nothing. “Hey hey, I haven’t seen this shit in forever.” Ellie says picking up a jar. “Does weed expire?” She asks turning to Dina, having finally spoken a word to each other. “I guess we’ll have to find out?”
A loud bang was heard, causing you to flinch as you turned to see that the snow had trapped all three of you inside the weed smelling warehouse. “God, I did not want this.” You roll your eyes, removing the gloves you wore. “Fuck…!” You kick something nearby. “Whoa there, it’s not that big of a deal, we can just stay here until it dies down. Then we can try moving the snow.” Ellie suggests, removing her coat and settling in a nearby couch.
You watch as Dina does the same, grabbing a lighter that seemingly still worked to light the joint they’d found in the jar. “This still hits.” Dina says with a small smile, passing the joint over to Ellie. You sigh, removing your jacket and looking around to search for another exit. “Hey, why are you so quick to leave? Live a little and come smoke this with us.” Ellie says, looking at you with her low eyes as the weed seemed to already be taking effect.
“I’m good, I don’t smoke. I didn’t smoke before either.” You roll your eyes, looking around once more, seeing that there were no other ways out. “Just come and sit down. It’s like you have a stick up your ass or somethin’.” Dina says, tilting her head to look at you. You groan, stomping over to them both and settling on the couch. “Here, I think ya need it.” Ellie giggles, egging Dina to do the same.
“I said I’m good.” Dina takes the joint, “Just one time, it won’t kill ya?” She takes a drag from the joint, blowing it into your face, causing you to retract. “Fine.” You finally give in, inhaling the smoke. You cough quickly, the biting sensation in the back of your throat lingering. “Okay what the hell?” You ask, hunching over to cough. “It’s fine, happens when it’s your first time. Try again.” Ellie helps you sit up, guiding the joint to your lips.
“When you inhale, inhale it slowly. So, it doesn’t hurt as bad.” Dina says softly, placing her hand on your thigh unconsciously. You flinch slightly, inhaling the smoke, letting it drape into your lungs slowly. Blowing the smoke into the air, you feel yourself becoming a lot more relaxed. “That was better yeah?” Ellie asks, watching you as she inhaled the joint and blows the smoke into your face.
“I guess so.” You say quietly, everyone feeling the effects of the weed. It hits you harder, your head spinning softly, your eyes getting heavier, and the stir between your legs becoming a lot more prominent. “Should we have another Dina? I’m not sure she can handle two.” Ellie says, looking at your slouched appearance.
You shake your head. “I’m good, I think.” You chuckle. Ellie nods lighting another, placing it between her thin yet plump lips. You watch her, your eyes entranced by the way her lips wrap around the joint. Dina slides her hand further up your leg, catching your attention. You turn to her, a smirk dawning her lips as she tilts her head to get a better look at you.
Ellie hands the joint over once more, this time leaning over you a bit more than usual. The feeling of her skin warming you up a lot more then you already were, her perky and uncovered breasts swaying in your face. You blush softly, your face tinted slightly. The thoughts that run through your head becoming unholy, but you blame it on the weed. Dina takes a drag, inhaling slowly. Suddenly she leans into you, your lips parting as she connects her lips to yours and exhales the smoke back into your lungs.
It was random, causing you to flinch softly. “Did ya like that? Or should I stop?” She slides her hand up your thigh further, her thumb gliding over your clothed cunt softly. Ellie watches, her eyes lingering over your figure. You look at Dina, the sinful thoughts running through your head starting to take over. “I-I don’t do this. I’ve never-“ Ellie silences you, putting the bud of the joint into the couch to let it burn out.
“We got you.”
Like usual, with Ellie and Dina you were doing something you didn’t usually do. Your legs spread open as Dina licked up the slit of your wet and dripping cunt. Ellie grips her hair, guiding her to eat you out just right. Your hands gripping the side of the couch as you whine and groan Dina’s name out into existence. Her arms wrapped around your thighs to keep your legs open as you shake, throwing your head back as she hits the spot that makes you tingle just right.
“Fuhh-ck!” Your head falls back off the couch, Dina’s fingers mingling with the hardened buds underneath your shirt. “Feel good pretty?” Ellie asks softly, looking down at you. You nod, droll pooling at your lips. Dina slides her finger into your core, your back arching into her as you fuck yourself with her fingers. “Fuc- Dina! Oh good-“ You grip the couch harder, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.
She eats you like it was her last meal, her eyes never leaving yours as she penetrates you with another finger. Ellie continues to guide her, hitting all the spots inside you just right. Her hands come down to your chest, running her thumb over the nipple as if she was admiring the way they bounced as you used Dina. “Yesyes.. right there!”
You grind against her face, feeling yourself become a lot needier. The high you felt earlier could never compare to this one. Her hands spreading you open just right, your eyes shut tightly. “Look at me hun.” She says softly, diving back into you as you open your eyes to look down at her. Ellie watches in awe at the way you open up to Dina’s fingers. “Oh shi- I’m gonna cum Din-“ Ellie suddenly moves Dina’s hand away.
You catch your breath, confused as to why she was depriving you. “I wanna turn too.” Dina rolls her eyes. “You could’ve at least let her cum first. I’m sure she can handle two orgasms.” You watch as they talk about you like you're not even there. “Okay then, think you can handle two pretty?” Your eyes pan to Ellie, nodding slowly as you lean back once more. “Good girl, see I told ya.” Dina says, sliding her digits back inside of you.
She decides not to start slow this time, her fingers using you quickly. “I wanna taste you c’mon.” You feel the high you were on coming back, your hands gripping her hair softly. Your eyes don’t leave her as Ellie leans back, watching the both of you as she waits patiently for her turn with you.
“C’mon hun, wanna taste your cum.” Dina speaks sinfully, causing you to fall over the edge. “Oh- cumming! Please!” You release on her fingers, back arching over the edge of the couch. Your legs shake as you orgasm like you never have before. She sucks softly on your sensitive bud, you whine softly. “Gotta take one more for Ellie, she wants a taste too hun.” Dina slaps your cunt softly.
You nod, spreading your legs once more. The adrenaline running through your body causing you to work against how sensitive you were. “Go in then you needy fuck, go get your fill of her before she changes her mind.” Dina slaps Ellie’s arm softly, wiping her face of your essence. Ellie leans in, kissing your stomach, kissing the inside of your thigh, then kissing your fold softly. “I can’t wait anymore.”
She suddenly licks, causing you to close your legs. “Ah Ah C’mon now. You keep ‘em open f’me do the same for El.” Dina spread your legs back open, leaning against Ellie. You whine, feeling sensitive as Ellie continues with her endeavor. She spreads your folds, sliding her finger inside to replace Dina’s. The length of her finger hitting a spot inside you that Dina didn’t hit before.
“Ah, wait! You- god!” You try to close your legs once more, but Dina slaps your inner thigh, holding them open. “Hey, stop it. You said you could take it so take it like a big girl.” Dina giggles, rubbing your inner thigh softly. You chant Ellie’s name, her fingers curling slighting inside you. You grip her hair, riding her face as if she were a dildo and you were a pornstar.
Dina feels her arousal pooling in her pants, sliding her hand down into her jeans as she touches herself at the sight of you. Your bottom lip I’m between your teeth as you groan, Ellie’s hair gripped in between your fingers. She enjoys the sight of it all. Ellie kissing your stomach again as she adds another finger, speeding up just enough to make you scream. “I’m- oh shit! Ellie please…!” You hold onto her wrist to keep her from moving away, riding her fingers and clenching around them.
“Gonna cum pretty, I wanna taste you as bad. S’not fair Dina got to try it first.” You whine, unable to speak. Dina throws her head back as she feels herself about to release around her own fingers. “Gonna cum together yeah? Cum with me YN.” She says breathlessly as she rides her own fingers. Ellie snickers, “ya just couldn’t wait could ya?” Diving back down to devour the essence about to release from you.
Your head spinning softly, your back arching, you ride her fingers until suddenly. You burst, cumming and squeezing around her fingers, your head falling back and your legs shaking like never before. “E-El oh Fuck! Yesyesyes!” You spread your legs more as she licks it all up, not leaving one drop of you behind. “Taste so good pretty.” She says quietly into your cunt.
Dina cums as well, her legs shaking as she slows down, circling her bud slowly. “Oh yes..” she leans back, pulling her hand out of her jeans. “Wanna taste?” She asks, leaning forward and placing her fingers into your mouth, allowing you to suck them clean. Your eyes low, the high still rippling through you.
“Let’s do this again sometime.”
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I want them both so bad...
830 notes · View notes
xazse · 8 months
Note
hear me out...fucking afab gojo in like canon au over his desk and him squirting all over important documents teehee (also like maybe add pussy slapping..its so hot idk why)
AFAB!GOJO x MALE!READER
Notes: pussyslapping really is hot
Pairings: Afab!Gojo x Male!Reader
Tags: Dom!Reader, Crying, pussyslapping, a little bit of manhandling, squirting
“Hold still Satoru, How are we supposed to make you feel even more good if you keep squirming” you inquire in his ear, he tries to answer you but is met by more aching pleasure.
Here you have him sat on your lap, legs spread wide open on either side of your legs, you have him in such an embarrassing, comprising postion. You’ve purposely made him face your desk, facing your important documents that meant a lot to your company.
Your cock is resting painfully under his ass, you’d been trying not to focus on yourself but instead on him, so far he’s only cum two times, that’s not nearly enough in your standards.
“Hnngh.. oh..” Satoru moans knock you out of your thoughts and begin fingering fucking his pussy again, starting the cycle again. He’s so incredibly wet: the slick sounds of you abusing his pussy has him starting up his crying again.
You remove your fingers from him and slap his clit roughly, “No crying remember? We agreed” he cries out while his body twitches upwards.
“My god Satoru, you sound like a fucking woman” you laugh out loud a little and continue your ministrations.
Slipping your fingers back into his cunt, you press a little deeper than before, stretching him out just a little more. He doesn’t know if he can take another orgasm, his body feels like it’s on fire, he can feel everything when you enter him, any attempt to relieve you is met with another harsh clap on his clit, it hurts so bad but he can’t find it in himself to ask you to stop.
He leans his head on your shoulder, looking up at you with so much adoration and love, he whines at you for a kiss, something to distract himself, you obliged, already starting to suck on his tongue lewdly, slurping sounds that make his pussy clench around your fingers. Soft breaths of air leave his lips every-time you part, but you quickly close the gap.
You’d figured it’s enough with the teasing and shift yourself to let your cock free, Satoru is still so impressed just by the size of you, you’re thick, when he had first heard so he expected you to be not so long but he was proven fairly wrong, you were just as long. That night you’d taken his virginity was painful and pleasurable.
You waste no time to filt your cock inside of him, it still hurts even with the two orgasms and how wet he is, you kiss him again to throw his mind somewhere else.
he’s quivering by the end of it, when your whole cock is nestled inside of him just right. You begin fucking up into him, fat cock pistoling into his sensitive hole.
“Feels so.. so good..” “hgnn-“ satoru babbles out. Tears decorate his waterline as you bounce him up and down your cock, you’re damn near abusing his pussy, using him as you would a flesh light, his cum from before is creating a thick ring around where you both meet.
His whole body quakes, you begin rubbing his clit just as roughly as you’re fucking him, as well as moving your fingers at the same pace, he tries to close his legs around the pleasure but you smack his clit again, a throaty whine is presented.
“I’m- im gonna..” “fu..fuck” his breathing speeds up and he’s trying to tell you he’s gonna cum, that he feels weird, everything feels so fucking weird. His legs twitch and he’s squirting, squirting all over your documents, papers, reports, all over your cock. His head is cloudy, he isn’t aware of what just happened, he can hear you scolding him: calling him nasty, a whore, gross all the names in the book, but you know that, that turned you on further, you stand up lifting him up as well.
You forcefully bend him on the desk he had just ruined, no mercy is given when you grab his hips and bounce him on your cock again. He’s just uselessly mewling, from this angle you stare at his swollen red pussy, you seem he needs to squirt one more time before you’re both satisfied.
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i can see you (miguel o'hara's version)
pairing: professor/mentor!miguel o’hara x graduate assistant!female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count: 4.5k
summary:
As Dr. Miguel O’Hara’s graduate teaching and research assistant, you’ve spent years pushing down the inappropriate thoughts you’ve had about the brilliant, gorgeous man.
But what happens when a late night at the lab and a scientific breakthrough leads to a breakthrough of a different kind?
author's note:
my first (but probably not my last) miguel o'hara fic based on taylor swift's song "i can see you" from speak now tv. if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or commenting and letting me know your thoughts!
content warnings/tags:
explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), explicit language, no use of y/n, alternate universe - no powers, age gap (undefined), presence of power dynamics (teacher/student), author took scientific liberties (forgive her, its been 10 years since bio II lab), pineapple on pizza, potentially bad spanish translations, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), miguel picking reader up, unprotected p in v, size kink, choking, pet names, praise kink, competency kink, dirty talk. let me know if i've missed anything!
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Translations you may need:
Universidad Estatal de Nueva York - State University of New York
Sí - Yes
Dios mío - My god
El Origen de la Genética Mutante - The Origen of Mutant Genetics
Mierda - Shit
Te lo prometo - I promise you
Lo juro por Dios - I swear to god
Arañita - little spider
Cállate - be quiet
Mirame - look at me
te sientes tan bien - you feel so good
Perfecto - perfect
________
You’re sitting in the front row, in the seat you’ve claimed as your spot, watching Dr. O’Hara pace in front of the projector screen that displays today’s lesson notes. 
“And what is the hallmark of this mutant gene that demonstrates its incompatibility for transmutation?” He asks the silent room of undergraduates that have found themselves on the roster for his Mutation Genomics III course at Universidad Estatal de Nueva York. 
A few hands go up around the room and Dr. O’Hara points to a student in the back who says, “Uh, it’s got a spiked protein arrangement that can’t be modified?”
“Is that a question or an answer?” Dr. O’Hara asks. There’s a sprinkle of laughter in the room and a smirk tilts his lips briefly. 
“An answer,” the student says more confidently. Dr. O’Hara nods.
“Correct, but that’s not the whole picture,” he says. His eyes catch yours and he gestures for you to join him. Your eyes go wide as you stand and walk to his side at the front of the class. “I’m sure some of you that actually use your available resources to pass my class recognize my teaching assistant. And if you don’t, I recommend visiting her office hours during this section because this is her area of research.”
Your cheeks feel warm as everyone’s attention falls to you. Dr. O’Hara hands you the data pad and steps back, giving you an encouraging nod. You tap the screen, bringing the diagram up on the holo projector and making it larger.
“You’re correct that the spiked protein arrangement can’t be modified, but there’s something more limiting in this particular model. If you look at it from this angle—,” you spin the DNA diagram, “you’ll see something else hindering the modification process. What do you see?”
Hands go up. Dr. O’Hara points to another student who says, “There’s a gap jump. The spike protein would continue to travel across the gap jump and avoid any inserts.”
“Exactly. So, what’s the potential alternative?” 
“Fill the gap. Target the spike protein in your modification cycle,” Dr. O’Hara finishes. “That’s all for today. Your exam next Wednesday will include this presentation, so don’t act surprised when you see the questions.”
A few students stop to speak with Dr. O’Hara as you gather your bag from your desk. His low voice calls your name, the timbre of it sending a shiver down your spine as you step up to his desk.
“You’re running a sequence right now, sí?” He asks, shuffling a stack of papers into order. 
“Yes, it should finish around seven tonight. Sorry, I know that it's late for a Friday,” you reply. He waves a hand dismissively.
“I’ll see you in the lab.” His brown eyes flick to yours and your stomach swoops, heart skipping a beat, same as it always does when he looks at you. 
Dr. Miguel O’Hara makes you nervous. Not only because he’s one of the most notable researchers in the field of mutant genomics, but also because he’s so handsome he leaves you breathless. He’s tall, towering over most men you’ve met, with broad shoulders and a tapered waist that are always covered by a suit and tie in the classroom or a lab coat in the research lab. His tan skin is complemented by dark hair and brown eyes that make you lose your train of thought when you stare into them for too long.
Which…is exactly what you’re doing now.
You clear your throat, stepping back from his desk. Had you been leaning closer? Christ, you hope not. You give him a brief smile before responding, “Yeah, see you tonight. Thank you, Dr. O’Hara!”
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Miguel?” He calls after you. 
“Maybe when I’ve cracked the sequence!”
________
Miguel watches your hips sway in the jeans you wore to class today, the denim hugging your curves so well he has to bite back a groan. The door to the lecture hall slams shut behind you and he sighs, rubbing a hand over his jaw in frustration.
You drive him crazy. Every class period you’re sitting in the front row, watching him as you tap your pen to your lips or leaning over your desk just enough to give him a glimpse down your blouse or dress. Or you’re in the lab, delicately handling samples and extractions with a level of competency beyond your years, your lip caught between your teeth as you analyze a sequencing output. 
He looks forward to and dreads your impending graduation in equal measure, being free from the constant temptation but losing the greatest researcher he’s met in years. 
Miguel finishes gathering his belongings as the door opens and the next lecturer comes in, nodding at him in greeting. As he steps out into the warm Nueva York air, he has a weird sense that something big is coming. 
He just doesn’t know what.
________
Miguel is waiting for you outside of his double locked research lab that evening, suit jacket hung over his arm and the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to reveal tan forearms dusted with dark hair. Your brain nearly short circuits at the sight, conjuring up images of those arms wrapped around your—
No, you think. He’s your mentor. Your handsome, intelligent, and very serious mentor. 
He looks up as you approach, corners of his lips tilting the slightest bit. Or maybe it’s a trick of the light, you can’t be sure, but he presses his palm to the biometric lock and the heavy metal doors slide open. He steps inside ahead of you, putting his face in the frame of the security camera. A red laser scans his face and a light above the second locked door goes from red to green, the click of the lock disengaging echoing in the anteroom. 
You follow him through the door and into his research lab. The fluorescent lights glimmer off the chrome equipment and pristine bench surfaces. A machine whirs, running the sequence analysis you’ve been waiting on. 
“LYLA, what’s the status?” Dr. O’Hara says as he sets his belongings on the desk in the corner.
“Sequence will complete on schedule. Also, your specimen delivery is available in the ultra low freezer,” Dr. O’Hara’s AI assistant, LYLA, announces, feminine voice carrying through the room. 
“I have a surprise for you,” Dr. O’Hara says, tugging on his lab coat as he walks towards the ultra low freezer. 
“A surprise?” You ask, setting your stuff down at the assistant’s work space. 
There’s the beep of a passcode being entered and the heavy freezer door being opened and shut. He’s holding a tray of cryovials, the contents varying in color. He sets the tray on a bench top near your desk and pulls one out, holding it up to the light.
“Isolated arachnoid mutagen,” he says. Your mouth drops open in shock. You rush forward, pressing in close to stare up at the vial with him. 
“You’re kidding,” you whisper. He hands the vial to you, fingers brushing yours. You hold it between your thumb and index finger to inspect the suspension, red in color with tiny flecks of black. “Dr. O’Hara, this is insane. How did you even get this?”
“A guy owed me a favor,” he says. You glance up at his face and you’re suddenly very aware of how close your bodies are. One deep breath and your chest would probably graze his, and did you just imagine his eyes dropping to your lips? 
“That’s one hell of a favor,” you murmur, stepping back. “You want me to work on the extraction?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“You say that like I’m not your research assistant. You can tell me to do anything.” Dr. O’Hara’s eyes go wide and you cough. “I mean, you know, lab related. Research stuff. Yeah. I’ll get started on this. LYLA? Power up the centrifuge and thermocycler, please.”
“Centrifuge is online. Thermocycler will reach optimal processing temperature in t-minus five minutes,” LYLA replies.
You set up all the necessary supplies and prepare the sample for the thermocycler, going through the motions that are now part of your muscle memory - extract, vortex, centrifuge, extract, wash, set in ice. You set your tray of samples into the thermocycler and remove your gloves to hit the start button.
________
Miguel watches you run the PCR test, fixated on the confidence with which you complete each step and your words from earlier continue to echo in his head.
“You can tell me to do anything.”
Dios mío, he thinks. He pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to will away the possibilities that anything could entail. 
“Sequence results are available. Would you like to review now?” LYLA asks. 
“Display,” Miguel says. You spin on your stool to view the hologram of the spliced DNA you prepared. He notices an issue immediately.
“Fuck,” you hiss, stepping up to the control screen and spinning the model. “There’s a deletion.”
“You knew there was a risk of that.” 
You zoom in on the model DNA strand, a broken gap shown in the mutation. “I know there was a risk, but it should have worked.”
Miguel crosses his arms and watches as you bring up the transillumination image of the DNA you had attempted to merge with a human sample. “You wanted it to work. Science is finite. There is no room for should.”
You glance at him. You look like you’re about to say something when the thermocycler beeps and he’s left to wonder what you would have said as you busy yourself with removing your tray of DNA samples. He leans against the bench as you assemble the agarose gel for electrophoresis. 
“Tell me, why do you think there was a deletion?” He asks. 
“The mutagen was incompatible with the human strand,” you murmur, adding dye to your vials. “Just the same as it has been the last dozen times.”
You’ve loaded the wells of the gel with your sample and set it in the tank, closing the lid and turning on the power supply. Miguel takes the remaining tray of arachnid samples to the freezer while your procedure runs. He understands your frustration, he’s run his fair share of failed experiments after all.
After about an hour, the hum of the electrical current from the electrophoresis tank shuts off. Miguel, who had been reviewing a journal submission for El Origen de la Genética Mutante, joins you at the bench as you remove your gel and set it on the UV transilluminator.
“LYLA, scan and project,” you ask the AI assistant. Miguel stands behind you, looking at the DNA bands you’ve generated. He’s momentarily distracted by the fact that he’s so close he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume, something citrusy that reminds him of summer.
You jump suddenly, back colliding with his chest. His hands come up to grip your waist, steadying you as you turn to face him, face lit up in the brightest grin.
“Miguel, look. This arachnid mutagen. It’s a potential match for insertion!” You say excitedly. “It has the same length as the deletion seen with the scorpion mutagen.”
“LYLA, show the current projection against the scorpion scan,” he says. The two images appear side by side and it’s clear that the band of arachnid mutagen fits definitively in a space that appears void in the scorpion samples. “Mierda.”
“You see it, right?” You ask. It’s then that Miguel realizes he’s still got his hands on your waist. He flexes his fingers experimentally, watching as your eyes go the slightest bit darker at the pressure.
“I can see it,” he murmurs. He wants so desperately to lean in closer, to back your body up until you’re pressed between the wall and his body, nowhere to go as his lips explore yours.
But he doesn’t. He drops his hands and puts much needed space between your bodies. He clears his throat.
“Prepare a combined sample,” Miguel says. You blink, checking your watch.
“It’s almost nine. Running a new combined sample would mean we’re here until close to midnight.”
“I’m familiar with how time passes, sí.”
“Are you sure you want—“
Miguel sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “You’re on the verge of one of the greatest scientific discoveries in the last decade. Do you think I give a shit about having to stay late? What kind of mentor would I be if I told you, ‘Oh just wait until Monday to change the scientific world’?”
“One with a work-life balance, probably,” you reply with a giggle. Miguel raises his eyebrows at you. “Okay, okay, combined sample. I’m on it.”
As you rush around the lab, it hits him that you called him Miguel. Not Dr. O’Hara. He’s not sure what that means but he’s certain he wants to hear his name from your lips again.
_______
Dr. O’Hara orders food while your new combined sequence runs, begrudgingly agreeing to a half pineapple and half sausage pizza to split. You’re sitting outside of the lab in the empty hallway, pizza box between you as you eat the slices over grease stained napkins. 
“What are your plans for after graduation?” Dr. O’Hara asks. You shrug.
“Probably get my doctorate. No one takes you seriously in this field without one.”
He frowns. “You’re on the cusp of a major breakthrough, one that could change our understanding of genetic modifications and mutants as we know it.”
“Yeah, and it’s coming from your lab. You’ll get listed as the first author, that’s how this goes.” You pick at your pizza crust, tearing the bread into tiny pieces that you sweep back into the box. 
“I won’t let that happen. If this works, you’ll be the first name on that paper,” Dr. O’Hara says vehemently. “Te lo prometo.”
You smile, caught in his gaze for a brief moment before an alarm rings from his watch. LYLA announces, “Sequencing complete.”
Dr. O’Hara stands, holding a hand out to you. You grasp his broad palm and he pulls you up with ease, the force of it making you stumble slightly. You press a hand to his chest to steady yourself, marveling at how solid he feels beneath your palm. 
“Sorry. Slipped,” you murmur.
He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a crease between his brow and storms in his eyes. His watch beeps again and he releases your hand to silence it, the spell broken between you. 
He unlocks the lab doors and you join him at the holoprojector, taking a deep breath. Dr. O’Hara brings up the sequence analysis, the hologram coming to life in the space between you. Your eyes scan the model, checking for gaps, deletions, frayed nucleotides, anything that could mean your procedure didn’t work.
You turn the projection this way and that, looking at it from every angle. You scan the result output reading, eyes jumping to the green SEQUENCING SUCCESSFUL text at the bottom. 
You turn to face Dr. O’Hara, eyes wide with surprise. “It worked.”
“It did,” he replies. 
“It worked,” you say again. You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, your grin so wide it hurts your cheeks as you rush forward shouting, “It worked!”
Dr. O’Hara’s arms open to catch you, wrapping around your waist as he lifts you from the ground and spins you. He’s smiling, a rare sight for such a serious man, and it makes your heart pound in your chest as you stare up into his face.
“Dr. O’Hara?” You ask as he sets you down, his arms still wrapped tight around your back. “What—“
His lips collide with yours, stealing your breath from your lungs and your words from your brain as you melt against his broad body. The kiss is anything but gentle, with Miguel acting like a man starved as his tongue sweeps into your mouth.
“Dr. O’Hara—“
“Lo juro por Dios, if you call me that one more time,” he growls, lips trailing down your neck with wet kisses, “Miguel. Say it.”
“M-Miguel,” you whimper. He smiles against your neck before sinking his teeth against your pulse point, making you gasp. 
“That’s right,” he says, lifting his head. His brown eyes have gone dark and he’s smirking as his hands find the hem of your blouse, fingertips ghosting across the skin of your abdomen and dipping beneath the waist of your jeans. “Tell me what you want, arañita.”
Rather than trust your voice, you bring your own hands to his shirt collar, working at the buttons of his dress shirt as he opens the fly of your pants. He slips his hand lower just as you reach the last button of his shirt, revealing the tight white t-shirt that outlines his impressive chest.
His fingers rub you over your panties and you feel your knees buckle at the delicious friction. Miguel chuckles, removing his hand to grip the backs of your thighs and lift you against him, your legs wrapping around his trim waist and your hands holding onto his shoulders. He sets you down by his desk, reaching around you to sweep the surface clean, pens and paper falling to the floor.
“In a rush are we?” You say with a laugh. Miguel raises an eyebrow at you.
“Cállate.” He kneels before you, lifting each foot to remove your shoes before turning you to face the desk with his hands on your hips. He grasps the waist of your jeans and shimmies the material down over your hips. When they’re pooled around your ankles, his warm palms grip each ass cheek roughly, spreading you open. “This pussy is even prettier than I imagined,” he groans.
“You think about my pussy a lot, Dr. O’Hara?” You ask innocently. A palm lands a smack to your ass cheek, heat blooming across your skin as you gasp.
“Don’t play dumb, baby, I know you’ve thought about this just as much. You think I can’t see it. Trust me, I can see you watching me in class with those pretty little lips wrapped around your pen, wishing it was something else. Isn’t that right?”
You gasp as he runs his thick fingers through your soaked folds, reaching forward only enough to graze your clit without giving it the attention you desperately want. He leans himself over you, his chest pressed to your back and his lips grazing your ear as he says, “Answer me.”
“Yes, yes,” you pant, the confession earning you that delicious friction, his fingers drawing messy circles around the sensitive nub. He withdraws too soon for your liking, a whine falling from your lips that he shushes, his warm breath on your pussy. You turn your head to look over your shoulder, surprised to find him on his knees.
As you watch, he spreads your cheeks once more before leaning in, licking from your clit to your entrance with a rough groan. Your head drops down, hitting the surface of the desk with a thump as he eats you out like a man who’s found water in a desert. The sounds echoing in the lab are downright indecent, deep groans of appreciation against your cunt and desperate whines from your lips.
“Miguel,” you moan, unable to keep your hips still as his tongue drives you closer to the cliff’s edge of release. “Miguel, I’m gonna cum!”
The man only grips your hips harder, fingers digging deep as he holds you still and doubles his efforts. The thread you’re hanging on by snaps, sending you falling into ecstasy as your muscles go tight and your breath leaves you in a shout of his name as you unravel. 
He pulls away only long enough to stand and turn you to face him, lifting you so that you’re sitting on the edge of the desk, legs spread by his body. He wastes no time slipping two thick fingers inside of your still fluttering cunt, his grin sharp as he sets a pace that has you trying to wiggle away to escape the overstimulation.
“Ah, Miguel!” You yelp, trying to shut your legs. His free hand shoves one thigh wide, pressing it to the desk. “What–”
“Cum for me again, I need to see your face this time,” he demands. He curls his fingers, pressing against your front wall with each drag of his hand from your body. 
“I can’t!”
“What was it you said to me earlier? I can tell you to do anything?” He curls his fingers harder, focusing his efforts on a spot that has you squirming, desperate to get away and to cum in equal measure. “I’m telling you to cum again, arañita, so be a good girl and do as I say.”
Your orgasm crashes over you in a wave, the tightness in your abdomen unraveling as you clench around his fingers. His movements slow as you try to catch your breath until he’s withdrawing, leaving you feeling disparagingly empty.
“Mirame,” Miguel says. You lift your head, pushing yourself up on your elbows and watching as he unbuckles his belt. “You made a mess, baby.”
You feel your cheeks heat with embarrassment as you notice the wet stains on the front of his gray slacks. The feeling is short lived, however, as Miguel unbuttons his pants and pushes them down his thighs along with his boxers, kicking them to the side as he reaches behind his head and pulls his t-shirt off. You’re blown away by how stunning he is, broad shoulders and chest that lead to sculpted abs and a defined adonis belt that draws your eyes to his thick and intimidatingly long cock.
“There’s no way that’s going to fit,” you tell him nervously.
“Why don’t we test that hypothesis?” He asks, taking himself in hand. You blink at him.
“Did…did you just make a joke?” Laughter bubbles up your chest until it’s spilling into the room, your shoulders shaking with the force of it. Miguel takes himself in hand, notching the broad head of his length to your dripping entrance and sliding inside the barest amount, just the tip, but it has your laughter morphing into gasps.
“Mierda,” he murmurs, gaze fixed where your bodies connect. “So fucking tight, arañita.”
You feel like he’s splitting you apart, the stretch deep and all consuming as he fits himself inside of you, drawing back after each inch and slowly thrusting back in and giving you more of his cock in the process.
“You’re so close,” he tells you. “You’re doing so good for me. Tell me how it feels.”
“It feels so fucking good, Miguel,” you answer honestly. “I’m so full.”
“Fucking right you are,” he growls. His hands shove your blouse up, bunching the fabric under your armpits to expose your breasts. He tugs the cups of your bra down before leaning forward, the last bit of his length slipping inside of you as his lips wrap around a pert nipple and his hand gropes the opposite breast. 
Your back arches at all the sensation - the fullness and stretch of him inside of you, the warmth of his mouth and the pinch of his fingers. He moves his mouth to your other breast and looks up at you through dark lashes with darker eyes as he licks the taut peak while holding your gaze.
His hips draw back, the drag of each inch from your body exquisite torture until he slams into you, the force of it sliding you up the desk. You cry out, your hands gripping his shoulders and your fingernails leaving crescent shaped indents as you cling to him.
Miguel stands, his arms looping beneath your thighs so that the backs of your knees rest across his forearms, spreading you open as he picks up his pace. He looks down at your body like it’s his greatest discovery.
“Fuck, fuck, te sientes tan bien,” he growls. 
“Miguel,” you moan, “please, please, please!”
“What are you begging for, arañita? Tell me.” 
“Wanna cum, please, Miguel,” you beg. He drops your legs, reaching up to wrap a hand around the back of your neck, urging you to sit up. You keep one hand planted on the desk behind you, the other diving into his thick, dark hair, pulling at the strands.
He drags his strong nose along your jaw as he murmurs, “Greedy girl, but I’ll give you what you need. Won’t I?”
“Uh huh,” you moan in response. His other hand settles at the base of your throat and his eyes hold a question that has your pussy clenching around him in anticipation.
His palm creeps up, strong fingers wrapping around your delicate throat, squeezing the sides the slightest bit. Your eyes roll back at the pressure.
“Look at me,” Miguel demands, “look at me while I make you cum again with my hand around your pretty throat.”
You gasp for air as he pounds into you, your release sparkling at the edges of your vision. It explodes like a supernova across your nerves, your muscles tightening around him and making him moan, a deep rumble that you echo as his movements grow erratic.
He slams deep inside of you, cock pulsing and filling you with warmth as he groans your name, head dropped to your shoulder. You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as the sweat on your skin cools and you run your fingers through his hair.
“That was—“
“Perfecto,” he finishes, lifting his head and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, one that has your heart pounding even harder than the lust filled ones from earlier. “It’s late. Let’s get this cleaned up and get you home. I’ll drive you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” you argue. He scowls at you as you continue to say, “No, seriously, you don’t need to go out of your way—“
“Will you shut up for a minute?” Miguel asks. He holds your face in his hands as he says, “Get dressed. I’m driving you home.”
He steps back, the absence of him making you feel empty as you carefully stand from the desk on shaky legs. He hands you your jeans and you look around in confusion.
“Have you seen my underwear?” You ask.
“Hm? No, I don’t see them,” he hums, buttoning his slacks. The stain from earlier has blessedly faded. 
You shrug, pulling your jeans on and fixing your blouse. Miguel cleans up the stuff he’d knocked from the desk, putting it all back in haphazard piles and grabbing his bag. He holds his hand out to you.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says. He must sense the hesitation you’re feeling when you don’t immediately grab his hand because he steps close, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “No one will see us. It’ll be our secret.”
You nod, digging your teeth into your bottom lip. “Just this once?”
“Not if I have anything to say about it, arañita.”
The most fantastic fanart by narutoss.ramen on insta that fits the vibe of professor! miguel:
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thewisecheerio · 3 months
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Elden Ring, Rejection of Authority, and Transcendentalism
Elden Ring rejects authority as a final solution to the ills of the world, and then offers a message of transcendental hope that such lowly creatures as ourselves might be able to effect real change.
Elden Ring's world is locked into a seemingly endless cycle of violence. No one—not the humanoids, nor the many demigods and gods—has been able to come up with a solution that would establish an everlasting peace.
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Count Ymir points out one of the roots of the cycle, which repeats in character after character. He tells us that the Golden Order's system as a whole is rooted in evil, unhinged from the start. Marika and the Fingers—the "mothers" of the system—birthed it malformed from the very beginning:
I fear that you have borne witness to the whole of it. The Conceits - the hypocrisy - of the world built upon the Erdtree. The follies of men. Their bitter suffering. Is there no hope for redemption? The answer, sadly, is clear. There never was any hope. They were each of them defective. Unhinged, from the start. Marika herself. And the fingers that guided her. And this is what troubles me. No matter our efforts if the roots are rotten, then we have little recourse.
Ymir also laments a similar situation with his son, in which he takes the blame for his son's malformation:
Forgive me, I failed to birth you whole, I failed to be your mother. For now, my dear, sleep soundly.
In both cases, we see him blaming the parent for the malformation of their children.
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Ymir says separately that without a "true mother", how are we to flourish?
We all need a mother, do we not? A new mother, a true mother, who will not give birth to further malady.
So using these dialogue together, we can see that he believes that children can only flourish with good guidance from a mother figure, and that conversely children (and systems) birthed of a rotten mother will only continue to do harm when their creators set them up to be harmful from the start.
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We see the same theme repeat with Metyr, daughter of the Greater Will. She is abandoned and left without its guidance, according to the Staff of the Great Beyond:
The Mother received signs from the Greater Will from the beyond of the microcosm. Despite being broken and abandoned, she kept waiting for another message to come.
We know that 1) the Fingers she birthed were rotten from the start (from the first block quote) and 2) Ymir's supposes that all of us are left floundering without a parent's guidance. We can then surmise that Metyr waiting on guidance from the Greater Will and never receiving it—while simultaneously refusing to change course and seek guidance within herself or another source—led to this malformation of her children. She kept doing the same thing she'd been doing since last hearing from the Greater Will, and that refusal to change course in the absence of guidance was her downfall.
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We see this same cycle of abandonment and refusal to change course repeat with Messmer. An NPC spirit's dialogue begs Marika to come collect her abandoned child, presumably Messmer, to put an end to the violence he is doing—as if his violence might be ended by intervention from an authority he respects. But originally set on his genocidal course by his mother (see his armor set clothing tags), Messmer refuses to change course even after being abandoned, as he tells us:
My purpose standeth unchanged
and then proceeds to beat the ever-loving daylight out of us so that he can go back to spearing Hornsent. It's important to ask, "Why? Why must your purpose stand unchanged?" After all, he could simply end the genocide himself, disbanding the military forces that so respect him. But it's his refusal to do anything but act on the last command he received from his preferred authority figure—his mother—that ensures that his cycle of violence will continue.
So if all of the authority figures are truly rotten in Elden Ring, and those who rely on them end up making grave and violent mistakes, where then are we to turn?
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The Mending Rune of Perfect Order might give us a clue:
A rune of transcendental ideology which will attempt to perfect the Golden Order. The current imperfection of the Golden Order, or instability of ideology, can be blamed upon the fickleness of the gods no better than men. That is the fly in the ointment.
The Rune reminds us not to worship gods—or any authority figures—for they are just as fallible as the men who blindly follow them. It explicitly warns us against relying solely on guidance from authority to decide on what we think the right course is.
And so if we cannot rely on authority, where then do we turn?
I think the gameplay gives us two answers. After all, the only ones who can make actual change within the game world are 1) ourselves, and 2) our community, should we choose to summon other players for help. So instead of worshipping any authority figure, hoping that they will simply tell us what to do, we are forced to make decisions with our own and our community's input alone.
Elden Ring challenges you to think critically about what you and your community think is truly right and effective in any given situation. In this way, Elden Ring gives us a thoroughly transcendental message of hope, that such lowly creatures as ourselves and our community might remake the world to be better.
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Heartbeats
liam dunbar x reader
summary: heartbeats quicken every time stiles goes over a bump. scott is determined to find out why.
tags: mutual pining, crushes, nervousness, comfort (no hurt), some fluff, protective!scott
word count: 820
a/n: this is only the third time i'm writing for teen wolf, but the first for liam, so i'm nervous! go easy on me plz 🥹 (he's just so cute, i can't help but write a lil soft piece for him.)
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Stiles takes a turn at a whopping forty miles an hour, making the whole Jeep rattle in discomfort. There’s a squeak somewhere, but all the occupants know better than to ask. Scott turns to the pair in the backseat, looking once again for the correlation between the rattling and the racing hearts he keeps picking up. 
“You guys good?” He asks, offering a thumbs up. 
Liam’s lip is slightly turned up with distaste at the question. You scrunch your nose. 
“Define good,” you challenge. 
Stiles is immediately offended. “She’s doing her best, guys. We’re almost there.”
He goes over another bump, causing another increase in heart rate, and earning another look from Scott. 
Both of you look nothing but annoyed, giving him no signs of why it could be happening. There’s a slightly sweet scent in the air, but it’s not sticking out as anything important. For all he knows, there’s a carnival nearby. Scott can’t do anything but stare and wait for another bump. He hopes his betas continue to look out their respective windows and don’t feel his eyes on them. 
“ETA?” He asks Stiles, hoping he can get in at least five more minutes of analysis. 
“Five forty two. About ten more minutes.”
Good.
He takes another wicked turn without warning. Everyone bounces in their seats, and if you weren’t buckled in, you would’ve fallen into Liam’s lap.
“Stiles!”
“Sorry!”
“Warning next time!”
“The GPS barely warns me, I don’t have time to warn you! Wear your seatbelt.”
“I am!”
“Well then hold on better!”
“Ugh!” You send Liam an apologetic look. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” 
Scott watches from the rearview mirror. Liam’s heart jumped at the sudden turn, and rose again slightly at your apology. Yours, on the other hand, is still beating out of your chest since the turn. He cocks his head. 
“Left!” Stiles yells while making the turn. At least he tried this time. 
“Shit,” you mutter, grabbing the handle on the ceiling. Your knee still hits Liam’s, though, making both your hearts sputter. 
Scott turns quickly, realization hitting him. His leather jacket scrapes the seat, causing a disruptive sound that catches both of your attentions. 
“What?”
He only stares, ignoring your question. 
“Another left!”
The cycle repeats. Your knees touch and your hearts race. That’s the correlation. 
Every time you and Liam touch, you both get nervous. 
That explains the smell in the air. 
“What?” You repeat. 
For a while, Scott’s theorized you’d fall for each other. You’re the same age and both full of a charisma that he adores. You mess with each other all the time, but also find comfort in one another. Liam’s taken it upon himself to guide and protect you whenever Scott’s not there. He’s also been helping you control your turns. 
But as cute as it is… he’s not sure how he feels about his betas being together like that. He suddenly feels like a mom getting overprotective of his kids when they start taking an interest in dating. His nose twitches. 
“Right!”
This time, Liam falls into you and stutters out the quickest apology he can muster. Your cheeks heat up as you assure him it’s okay, then you both let your eyes drop to the ground. 
“Tunnel!”
Blackness overtakes you as the Jeep barrels into an unexpected tunnel. Stiles’ driving is already questionable, and suddenly so much more so in the complete darkness.
“Oh god,” you mutter, fear wafting off you. 
Unbeknownst to Scott, Liam takes your hand for reassurance. He holds it tightly and whispers you’ll be okay. Scott can sense the comfort easing your mind, taking over your fear. When out of the tunnel, he checks his rearview to see your hands clasped, and can’t help but smile. Your shoulders are touching, and Liam draws a shape on your palm that makes you giggle. Scott’s seen him do it before, when you need a distraction from turning, but he didn’t expect to see it now. Before he can ask if you’re okay, Stiles hits something in the road and the Jeep shakes again.
“Sorry! Big rock!”
Liam quickly makes another shape, returning the smile to your face. The smell of fear is heavily outweighed by the sugary sweet smell of lovesickness. And while your hearts remain racing, no discomfort weighs on either of you. Scott studies for a moment longer, but relaxes at the absence of any claws. 
“You guys good?”
“We’re fine,” you reply, tone slightly cheery. 
“Okay, just making sure.” He tries to play it off like he hadn’t seen anything, but ironically, it seems the two of you haven’t seen him watching at all. 
“We’re here,” Stiles announces, slamming on the breaks. The car and all its occupants lurch forward, and Scott smiles this time, knowing why the two hearts in the backseat are going so quickly. Some of it is Stiles’ driving, but definitely not all.
“Alright, let’s do this.”
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poebot · 9 months
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“Toxic” Ellabs / F!Reader Part 1 | Part 2
summary: Ellie, your on-again off-again girlfriend, can’t seem to leave you alone. Abby is tired of watching you get hurt.
tags/warnings: this is mostly sfw! mentions of alcohol, ellie gets a lil handsy but that’s about it lmao
a/n: i go feral for the idea of hot women fighting over me so take this. on a more civilised note lemme know if you wanna see this continued in a part 2! apologies for any spelling mistakes ^_^
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Your relationship with Ellie wasn’t what most would describe as healthy. You shared a bad habit of repeatedly breaking up and getting together again, always weak to her grand gestures and ‘I miss you’ texts. It was an endless cycle that neither of you seemed interested in breaking, but you had promised Abby and Dina that this time, this was it. You were done with her. Done with the constant flirting with other girls, with the endless arguments over her jealously problems, with the mess she’d leave your apartment in. You were done with it all.
Tonight was supposed to exemplify that; a trip to the club with your closest friends to celebrate your newfound freedom. You had put on your skimpiest dress (10/10 from Dina. Abby offered an approving thumbs up with minimal eye contact.) and had styled your hair and makeup just the way you liked it. Tonight was about forgetting about Ellie. And maybe finding someone cute to smash faces with, also in an effort to forget Ellie.
After one too many shots, you found yourself abandoning the group to go dance. You tried to coax the girls to join you, but Dina insisted they’d stay put and keep an eye out for you. They watched from a distance as your hands caressed your body, your tight dress clinging to your curves just right.
“She’s going to be the death of me.” Abby groaned, turning to face the bar. Being hopelessly in love with one of your best friends sucked, but it sucked even worse when said best friend was pining after a girl who didn’t treat her right. Every time you’d call her crying about Ellie, she had to physically fight the urge to shake you. To tell you that she was right here and would never make you feel this way. She hated Ellie Williams with everything in her. Dina pouted, rubbing Abby’s arm reassuringly and pushed a glass of whiskey into her hands.
✧༺♡༻∞
Your eyes were closed tightly, enjoying the fuzzy feeling of being tipsy when you felt a pair of large hands snake their way around your waist. You didn’t even have to open them to know who was behind you. Her clothes smelled of cigarettes and the same musky cologne that she always wore on nights out, and she pressed her lips against your ear as you continued to sway.
“Hey, baby. You look good.” Her voice was raspy and quiet under the noise of the bustling club, but she was pressed so close that you could hear her every inhale and exhale. You turned to face her, your eyebrows furrowed. “I thought I told you to leave me the fuck alone.” Ellie chuckled at your attitude, seemingly unconvinced.
“You say that every other week. Cmon… I seriously can’t change your mind?” Her roaming hands continued to reach lower past your hips, moving dangerously close to the curve of your ass. The flesh dimpled in her hands and you heard her let out a sigh. You hummed, pushing against her chest weakly as you felt warm heat flood your stomach. It was increasingly hard to resist her, from the alcohol thrumming through your blood stream to the tender way her body pressed against yours. She smelled so fucking good, you missed her so fucking bad, and before the rational part of your brain could think you were pressing your face into her neck, senses thrilled at being surrounded by her familiar scent and touch.
“Thought so.” Ellie smiled, moving your face from the junction of her neck to hold your chin up to look at her. “God. You look fucking amazing.”
✧༺♡༻∞
“Uh oh… Ellie’s on the hunt.” Dina chuckles, taking a sip from her cranberry vodka. She had spotted the girl almost half an hour earlier, sitting in a corner nursing a beer while she scoped out the crowd. In an effort to not spoil the night, she chose not to mention it to her friends. Atleast that’s what she told herself, ignoring the nagging thought in her head that this should make for good entertainment. Maybe Abby would finally make a goddamn move.
“What are you talking about?” Abby turned to look in the direction she was facing, and in an instant her smile dropped from her face at the sight of you enveloped in Ellie’s arms, her hands around your waist as she hugged you from behind. you seemed to be in a hushed discussion and your expression looked annoyed, but you made no effort to escape her as she started to sway with you to the music, her hips flush with your ass.
“You owe me like twenty bucks. I told you it would be less than two weeks.” Dina watched Abby over the rim of her glass, her lips slightly upturned in amusement. The girl was completely fucking hopeless. Her crush on you couldn’t be more clear, but your head was too far in the clouds to even notice. She punched Abby lightly in the arm, making her flinch. “Ow..” She murmured under her breath, as though her biceps weren’t crafted from stone.
“Dude. Stare any harder and they might combust.” Abby ran a calloused hand through her long hair, a nervous habit she had picked up whenever it wasn’t braided back. You convinced her to wear it this way tonight, telling her how pretty she looks with it down. Fuck, this sucks.
Abby stole another glance at the couple just as Ellie’s eyes met hers, and she planted a chaste kiss against your throat, holding the tense eye contact. Like a threat.
Fuck it. That was her last straw.
She grabbed her half full glass of whiskey and downed it, turning to Dina, her eyes blazing. “I’m going over there. She’s drunk, can hardly think straight. Shits’ not right.”
“Hey.” Dina grabbed Abby by her collar, yanking her back before she could storm off. “Go do what you gotta do. But if you get us kicked out of here, I’m beating your ass.”
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remnant-verse-if · 7 months
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Hello everyone, this will be the main post for Remnant: 21 & Before the Incident. I've decided to make a more concise summary of the following stories that take place in the same universe. Your support is appreciated!
Before the Incident <- Demo [124,003 words] ________________________________________________
Tags: Action, Superpower, Adventure, Fantasy, Revenge The world is truly unfair, but what if you were allowed to enact your revenge. Will you destroy yourself before you destroy those who have wronged you? The ends justify the means does it not?
You and your best friend haven’t talked to each other in a while after losing your parents. Until one day, your friend reaches out to you about Starford Festival. Celebrate the festival with your best friend and reminisce about your past together! Tradition says when you light sparklers while watching the late-night fireworks, a great change will come to your life! Enjoy a slice-of-life-filled prologue!
This story takes place around 1.5 years before the main events of Remnant: Twenty-One. You never knew demons existed until now. Join the Organization and take arms to enact a battle against the Apostles, a secret society that wishes to open the Gates of Hell. Manifest your powers based on the prologue. Will you get your revenge or will you fall before you can achieve it?
Remnant: Twenty-One <- Demo [225,948 words] [HIATUS] ________________________________________________
Tags: Isekai, Action, Supernatural, Fantasy, Psychological, Tragedy The skies are gray. Devils run amok. Is this some sick divine punishment by some sort of god? Your body is no longer yours. Will you survive this world or will it break you? The cycle of reincarnation calls for you to lose every part of yourself until you're born anew. Remnant Twenty-One, only you can undo this shattered world.
You’re taken to a mysterious room and greeted by two strangers. They tell you that your life is no longer, but you aren’t necessarily dead. You cross through a door on the other side of the room and enter a world similar to your own. Except, there’s the existence of demons, Devils, and other supernatural entities. Not only that, you’re trapped in the body of the Chosen One, the hero who will save humanity. The issue is there’s no time for training or preparing, the final battle is in five days!
Fight against Caph and the four Enforcers. One Enforcer for each day which will test the potential of your main character. Meet new/‘old’ teammates that will aid you in the final battle. Maybe even find some love with them? There might be a more sinister force out there than the Devils. Survive to the best of your abilities in this new world. Good luck out there, Remnant Twenty-One.
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Before the Incident ________________________________________________
Customize your agent to your liking
Decide what your past ambitions were, they will affect how you perceive things.
Find love in this crazy world of Contract users and demons
Determine what your definition of revenge is.
Will you continue to feed into the cycle of revenge?
Unlock a Contract at the end of the prologue (Powers below):
Wanderer: You can switch between a magical katana and a revolver. You have higher physical prowess and agility with this Contract. Your foes won’t be able to keep up with your speed and aim. You essentially cover both long-range and short-range. Fuel your desire for vengeance. Painter: You wield an ink brush that allows you to paint constructs and summons. Use your creative skills to deal with your foes. The world is your canvas and only you can paint your retribution. Arbiter: Words are powerful. Especially when they can bend reality. Manipulate your targets to convince them of lies. These lies will become their truths and ultimately their downfall. The world is unfair, so why not fix it with your justice?
Remnant: Twenty-One [Hiatus] ________________________________________________
Customize the Chosen One and your original self to your liking.
Mold out your personality the longer you live in this world.
Romance the agents of the Organization in your short time here.
Build bonds with your allies
Your choices will determine who lives and who dies in the story
Indulge in the Chosen One's Sealed Evil
Try your best to avoid suspicion
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Before the Incident ________________________________________________
Apollo/Anna [M/F]
Your best friend you haven’t spoken to in a year. Celebrate the Starford Festival with them and recall the memories you had together in high school and college. Perhaps you can find love at the festival as well?
Syo [M]
An odd man with an eye patch. He has a casual attitude to most things and has a lax personality. However, it seems as if he knows a lot more than he actually leads on. Have you seen him in another story?
Tenth [F]
A stoic woman with strong convictions. She’s quite serious most of the time. She gives Syo a hard time for his laziness. She wants what’s best for people and wishes for them to reach their full potential, although her methods can be quite unhealthy. She's also a hopeless romantic.
Abel/Belle [M/F]
This person has a wild heart and a passionate personality. They can be quite too much for people and they’re intense all around. Abrasive and rude. Could there be more layers to this individual?
???? [M/F]
This person was born from a high stature. Manners are everything in this world. Reputation is king. How you present yourself is life and death. They have high expectations of how people should behave. Are you proper enough?
???? [M/F]
You’re on opposing sides. Is it possible for you to shake this person’s convictions and join you? Or will you meet a tragic fate in your journey for their love?
Remnant: Twenty-One [Hiatus] ________________________________________________
Ash [M/F]
A powerful contract user that was close to the Chosen One. They came back to things being much more different. How will they react that you're no longer the person they loved. There are more mysteries and problems for this person.
Anja [F]
A cheerful individual who acts as the communicator for the team. She often likes to keep things lighthearted. However, she hides her internal struggles for the sake of the mission. Will she make it to the very end?
Sigma [M]
A clueless musclehead through thick and thin. He's incredibly strong and has a heart of gold. Yet, he still yearns to learn the truth of who he is. Can he forgive himself in time, or will he die with regrets?
Uri [M]
A man who doesn't really know how to talk to people properly. He has trouble expressing his true feelings, but there's no changing the fact that he deeply cares for the team. He holds the Chosen One in high regard. Will you raise him up or will he crumble?
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