#spr imagine

[skelieology]

⁉️ Postman making lil’ postman art? In 2024? Remarkable❗️

Postman & Aaron O’ Nare dialogue snippet under the tab 👍

Aaron O’ Nare: “Oh I love surprises, let me see!”

Postman: “Oh woah- hey!”

Aaron: “‘And there, sat ever so cutely on top of an envelope like a puppy in a tea cup, was’ -my friend- ‘Postman, being held by a much larger Postman. This tiny one that caught the bigger Postman’s gaze was somewhere around the size of a stamp.’ What a neat little surprise! Oh I do wonder how this little guys story will unfold…”

Postman: “Me too. Since you’re so good at stating the obvious though, do you mind telling me what he’s doing in my mailbag?”

Aaron: “That, I cannot answer. I do find it unfair however that the creator gave you a mini version of yourself but not me. Don’t I look so marketable with my shiny green tie and hat?”

Postman: “… I seriously don’t see what’s so cool about my wall that you have to stop and wink at it whenever you make a witty joke, but if it keeps you in the post office longer, then flirt with it all you’d like.”

Aaron: “It’s quite an enjoyable activity actually! I wouldn’t suggest you do the same though, the little you leaped away out the window while you took your eyes off him.”

Postman: “Sure ma- Sorry what was that last part? … Are you kidding the little guy was right here!”

Aaron: “Better go look for hiiiiim. Who knows, he might be eaten by boxhawks!”

Postman: “What?!”

Aaron: “It’s time to live up to your card description! I’ll see you there.

‘And Aaron disappears before Postman could say another word’.”

Postman: Sigh… “If only being a town hero was a part of my pay.”

[boundless-ut]

Unrelated Comment 💬: Recently a lot of PR blogs have been finding this blog, which is cool! Even though this project has nothing to do with PR anymore (due to some very terrible things...iykyk :[ ) I just can't keep quiet anymore about one thing...

Thank you for appreciating my baby boy!!! I can't believe people are out there drawing fan art for Tess!!! While I didn't have much of a hand in the basis of his story, I did design him, so he's still very near and dear to me despite everything. Seeing all those drawings makes me go Eehee!

There are a lot of characters that have yet to be shown off but one of these characters is something of a spiritual successor to Tess. The story is not 1:1 but the vibes are there...and this character is one of my absolute favorites among the entire Boundless cast.

[shadowphoenixrider]

I am *trying* to romance Karlach in Baldur's Gate 3, but Gale is Right There being a sweet guy with Sad Wet Beast vibes, and my need to adopt him is overwhelming.

[loveanddeepthroat]

Trouble

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - As it turned out, lavish events in the N109 Zone were not quite your thing, and this one did nothing but prove it. You weren’t looking for trouble, but it often had a way of finding you.

Word Count - 6.4k

Warning - MDNI. 18+. Oral sex f!receiving. Fingering. Light bondage. Mention of murder.

You were in trouble.

Not that it was immediately bothering you. You were having a good time—it wasn’t your fault that the rest of your companions were quite clearly not.

And besides, it wasn’t as if you were breaking any rules. Sylus had simply advised that you remain where he and the twins could see you upon your arrival at the lavish event, and that’s exactly what you were doing.

Whilst you watched a delectable cocktail being made for you at the bar as per a stranger's request, the three sets of eyes in various places around the room burned holes in your head as they watched you and the nameless man like a hawk. You only threw a few glances at each of them, catching Luke waving the tips of his fingers against his neck in a warning to get away from the guy.

You did no such thing, however. Listening to people kissing Sylus’s ass to stay out of his warpath had quickly bored you half to death, and some stimulation was very necessary for your withering attention span. You didn’t think much of the man who had approached you at the bar. He was dressed up like every other guy in the room, but he held a familiar air of dominance around him. Just as a certain silver haired man fuming a dozen metres away did.

The man ordered you what he deemed as being the best cocktail you would ever drink, along with an identical one for himself. One sip had led to another, your glass completely drained in a matter of a few seconds. He had another one raring to go before your glass landed back on the mahogany bar.

“Didn’t I tell you? The perfect cocktail.” The slight grin he shot you revealed two golden teeth that replaced his natural canines. You imagined the man would be quite intimidating to look at for most, but you took down Wanderers for a living. He’d need to do a lot more than flash his expensive gold fangs at you to make you feel threatened.

Not that you were getting that impression from him in the first place. He actually seemed rather pleasant.

“It’s delicious,” you agreed, already starting on the second.

He perched himself on the stool beside you, taking a sip of his own as he studied you for a moment. “You came with Sylus, huh?”

You nod, not seeing any harm in answering truthfully. “Is it obvious?”

The man chuckled. “His eyes are like lasers through my skull,” he crooned. He turned his head to wiggle his fingers in greeting to your companion. You didn’t dare turn to look in the same direction. “So, what are you doing on your little lonesome, darling?”

A shiver ran up your spine at the pet name. It was almost as if Sylus had caused it as a warning to you. You could feel his patience thinning by the second.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you responded, starting to feel a bit like a worm in the sights of a crow. 

Although you weren’t entirely sure which of the two men were making you feel so much pressure all of a sudden.

A blaringly obvious hand shot in the air a little distance behind the silver-eyed man beside you, catching your attention. Kieran had attracted more than just your attention as he threw his thumb back over his shoulder, eagerly coaxing you away from the man.

It was time to wrap things up.

You finally took the hint and slipped off of the barstool and onto your stilettos, your movement mirrored by the man before you. A large hand landed upon your shoulder, causing you to freeze up. At first, you thought it was his hand clamped there, but the sheer size and strength as it gave you a small squeeze was immediately recognisable.

Sylus.

Putting your face in one of the large fireplaces in the room sounded more appealing than looking up at him at that moment, so you kept your gaze on the sly smirk now spreading across the shorter male’s face.

“Sylus. It’s about time our paths crossed tonight,” he crooned. Gone was the admittedly quite charming face you had been accompanied by, replaced with one that could be compared to that of a viper. 

This man was not someone you should have engaged with.

Sylus’s firm grip remained on your tensed shoulder, anchoring you to him. His voice was cool and indifferent, like he was already bored by the idea of conversing with the individual.

“If you fancied my attention, Frank, all you had to do was say,” he drawled.

Frank cocked his head to the side, his silver eyes dropping to your chest. You suddenly felt a little overexposed in the plunged neckline of your fitted black dress.

“I was just on my way to you when I stumbled upon a lonely little stray,” Frank purred, his cold, lingering gaze finally flickering back up to your face.

Hiding the disgust in your expression was difficult, but you had a feeling it would be wise to at least try. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the twins standing together, watching the situation unfold. They were always ready to get involved if required.

Sylus chuckled, not one iota of humour in it. “I didn’t take you for the type of man to take pity on a stray kitten,” he said flatly. “Especially one with its collar on.”

He slipped a long finger into the chain of your ruby encrusted choker, giving it the smallest of tugs. You didn’t hate it, and honestly, you felt it more in the pit of your stomach than you did in your neck. Now didn’t seem like the time to think on that, mind.

The backs of his fingers smoothed over your racing pulse as he pulled the digit back out of the small space in your tight neckpiece. You shivered quite noticeably, the sensation awakening the pulse between your thighs.

“As you can see, this one is already taken care of.”

You didn’t miss the flare of hostility in Frank’s silver eyes as he followed every movement of Sylus’s hand—even as it moved to hang from his trouser pocket with his thumb tucked inside.

“Maybe you should keep her on a shorter leash. Anyone could have gotten their hands on her,” Frank said tightly. It sounded awfully identical to a threat. “This is hardly the room full of people you would want to lose such a precious little thing in.”

Sylus didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed your arms and moved you to the side, away from Frank’s cold glare. Before you could even react, two strong arms either side of you hooked your arms with their elbows.

Luke and Kieran practically dragged you away, your feet struggling to keep up. As soon as you were released from their bone crushing clamps for inner elbows, you turned back to the interaction you were just kidnapped from.

Only to find the space completely empty.

“Okay, either you’re blind or really, really stupid,” Luke scolded.

You frowned back at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Excuse me?”

“No, we won’t excuse you,” he snapped. “We’ve spent the last ten minutes thinking up different ways to dispose of your body after Frank was done with you.”

“Honestly, woman. Do we have to take you over the basic commands, again? I looked like a tool flapping my arms at you!” Kieran chimed in, looking like he was telling off a toddler.

Unsure whether it was the alcohol or their incessant rambling, you were starting to feel quite overwhelmed. You weren’t sure what they had seen differently while you were sitting with Frank, but you knew that the man had to have had a sinister intention for occupying you.

“Wait, wait,” you cut them off as Luke started to scold you again. “Shouldn’t we go find them?”

They both stared at you for a moment before bursting into obnoxious laughter. You weren’t sure what the joke was, but you were confident you wouldn’t find it funny even if you did.

If Sylus had gone off alone with the unfriendly man, then surely he would need the three of you there, too.

“You’re lucky you still have a tongue in your mouth to be able to make dumbass suggestions like that,” Luke sneered, still shaking from his chuckles.

You clenched your fists at your sides, irritated by their insults. How were you supposed to know that Golden Teeth was an enemy? You weren’t exactly well versed in the good and the bad when it came to attending events in the N109 Zone.

If they were that concerned, they could have remained beside you.

Each minute that passed without a visual on Sylus felt like an eternity, but in reality, only three minuscule minutes went by before he emerged from a door beside the bar.

His facial expression gave away absolutely nothing, but the red split in his lip did. You swallowed as you watched his tongue peak out to run over the small laceration, followed by the pad of his thumb. It disappeared in an instant at his touch.

You began to walk towards him, curious about what the hell had just happened, and if Frank was still breathing. Before you could open your mouth, however, he bent at the waist the second he got close to you, his shoulder connecting with your stomach as he hauled you off of your feet.

“What the—what the fuck are you doing?!”

He did not dignify you with a response as he stormed towards the exit, his solid arm squeezing your knees into his ribs as you started to assault his back. 

“Put. Me. Down,” you grit between harsh slaps to his back. You might as well have been flicking his ear for all the difference it was making.

He carried you straight out of the building and towards the matte black saloon car Kieran had driven you all in earlier that evening. You were utterly furious and embarrassed, doing everything in your power to wriggle out of his hold.

“I can walk!”

Sylus snorted. Snorted, like it was funny. No humour lay in his tone as he spoke, though. “Well that’s a little hard to believe.”

You whacked his muscled back again. “Meaning?!”

He yanked open the back door of the car, practically dropping you into it on your back. You felt it again, at the worst possible time.

That flutter of lust in your core.

It was something about the way he stood over you as you panted from the physical exertion of trying to fight his spine. He must’ve been able to see up the short skirt of your dress, and you hoped to god he didn’t spot any indication of your arousal on the cherry red thong you were wearing.

“Meaning, you had plenty of opportunity to use these apparent walking skills when your safety was threatened,” he growled, moving your legs so he could slam the car door, not interested in anything you had to say back.

You huffed as you pushed down on the unfolded mass of clothes in your backpack, trying to fit them all in.

It had been hours since you all got back from the absolute disaster of a night, and you had been holed up in the room you were occupying since then. Part of you expected Sylus to come and explain what the hell his problem had been, but he didn’t.

The longer you sat and dwelled on it, the more you wanted to go home. You only came to stay because he’d asked you to attend the event with him. He hadn’t mentioned that you were expected to stay by his side like an obedient dog. Nor had he bothered to mention the types of people you were to avoid.

Not only were you pissed at him, but you were pissed at the fact that he’d made you feel a certain way. Who in their right mind gets aroused by a man embarrassing you by hauling you out of a room full of people—likely with your bare ass on show. 

Scientists would have a field day with your brain.

And although you hated to admit it, it wasn’t the first time you had felt that familiar feeling of lust at his touch. The last time you had stayed, you had to relieve yourself in the shower after training with him in the ring. Every inch of him was sculpted with perfect precision, almost as if an architect had dedicated their life to working on his blueprint.

If you were being honest, you weren’t bothered about the event he wanted you to attend when he’d asked you to join him. You just wanted to see him.

But at the end of the day, you had no idea where you belonged in his world. In Linkon, a friendly face buying you a drink wasn’t something to be feared. It was exhausting having to recluse whenever you accompanied him anywhere. 

The clasps of your bag struggled as you tried and failed to clip them together. You had no idea how you were getting back to your apartment, but you were confident in your ability to just suck it up and figure it out. Even if you had to trek there in your most expensive pair of (uncomfortable) stilettos.

You slipped your feet out of them, throwing your barely closed bag over your shoulders before picking the silky, red shoes up. They’re far too noisy against Sylus’s marble floor for you to be able to slip out without being accosted by him or the twins.

Without so much as a squeak, you gently turned the doorknob, pulling the door slowly to peer down the long hallway. Nobody could be seen or heard, so you slipped out and carefully closed the door behind you to not draw suspicion.

You hurried yourself down the hallway to get to the front door, stopping dead in your tracks as you turned the corner. 

Mephisto was perched outside of Sylus’s bedroom door, his beady red eyes on you in an instant. Like hell was the glorified magpie going to let you pass him without kicking up a fuss.

“If you keep your scrap-metal beak shut, I’ll be out of your feathers. Got it?” Your voice was a whisper, but you knew he could hear you.

He did not make a sound as you slowly passed him, keeping your eyes on his as he followed your every move across the luxury floors. By the time you had passed him, you were fully convinced that he was willing to let you go. The minute you took your eyes off him, though, he started to screech.

“CAW! CAW!”

“Oh for fuck sake! You couldn’t just work with me for once in your—”

“CAW!”

“I wasn’t finished you squawking little—”

You were cut off by Sylus’s door opening, his unamused expression still ever present on his face. He was freshly showered, silver hair dripping onto the bare expanse of chest showing between the lapels of his bathrobe. You had to swallow a noise that rudely made its way up from your suddenly dry throat.

Eyes as red as the rubies around your neck flickered between Mephisto, you, and the bag over your shoulder. He clicked his fingers, sending his winged companion away.

“I was under the impression that you were above cussing out mechanical crows,” he drawled, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe.

It wasn’t clear whether or not he was joking, considering the less-than humorous look on his face. Either way, you weren’t in the mood for it.

“I’m going home.”

“I can see that,” he responded immediately, nodding towards your barely closed bag. “And how, exactly, are you planning to get there?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling a bit like a teenager who’s just been caught sneaking out to a party. “I’ll figure that out myself.”

Holding his cold stare wasn’t usually a challenge for you, but you found yourself desperate to look away. You had compared Frank’s domineering aura to Sylus’s earlier, but it didn’t actually come close to the man before you. 

You had seen men and women strapped with weapons that could swiftly eliminate even the most dangerous of Wanderers cower at the sight of Sylus. He was the true definition of a force to be reckoned with.

He raised a lazy eyebrow at you, his hand slipping into the pocket of his robe. “You’re not leaving without a ride home. You’re over the limit, and if I wanted you to be skinned alive walking through the N109 Zone, I’d open the front door for you.”

“You give me a lift then,” you rebuked, your patience already thinning.

Sylus offered half a shrug. “I could, but I don’t make a habit of going out half naked.” You hoped to the lord that he didn’t see your shiver at the fact that he was only concealed by a thin robe. “You’re welcome to ask Luke and Kieran.”

“And where are they?”

The corner of his lip curled so subtly that you almost didn’t see it. “Out.”

You growled at his relaxed attitude. Why the hell would he even suggest it if they weren’t around?

“They’re cleaning up a mess of mine,” he answered as if you had asked.

A chill ran through you. “Would that mess happen to be Frank’s body?”

Sylus turned away from you, strolling into his room. You weren’t entirely sure why, but you followed him in, suddenly wanting answers.

“Well?”

Dark tendrils coiled around the bag on your back, gently tugging it down your arms and carrying it out of the room, closing the door on the way out. You had a feeling your belongings were heading back to where you just came from.

Sylus fiddled with the sleek black turntable in the corner of the room, carefully setting a vinyl record into place. It was a stark contrast to the way he’d hauled you into the car.

“You’re aware of the saying, right? Curiosity killed…” he trailed off, putting the pin in its place upon the record.

You frowned at his back. “The cat?”

He blew out a short laugh, not an ounce of humour in it. “The crook.”

He turned back towards you, slowly making his way to where you were a little rigid by the door. There was that feeling again. That you were a worm in the sights of a crow.

“Tell me,” he crooned, stopping right where your forehead would connect with his heart if you took half a step forward. “What was it about Frank that had you feeling adventurous, hm?”

You forced yourself to look up at him, feeling your cheeks heat at how close you were. “What do you mean?”

“Kitten, I can read you like the nervous wrecks who attempt to double cross me. Don’t play dumb, it does not suit you.”

His eyes were fierce and serious, but you hadn’t a clue what he was getting at. Your silence only lasted a few seconds before he leaned towards your shoulder.

“What was it that attracted you to him?” He whispered so quietly that you just about heard him over the thrum of your rapid heartbeat.

Attracted to him? In the approximately two minutes you had spent with Frank at the bar, you hadn’t spoken more than ten words to him. 

You stepped away, your back connecting with the door immediately. Even with the slight gap, his look over your much smaller form was rather harrowing. And yet you felt that unhelpful flutter in your core again, so strong that your knees wobbled in place. What was this man doing to you?

“Did you hit your head this morning?” You bit back, clenching the muscles of your thighs tightly to relieve some of the pressure there. “You think that I had an eye for him because he bought me a drink?”

He closed the gap again, his large palm resting against the door right beside your head. “Why else would you not walk away when you were quite blatantly warned to do so.”

“Maybe because I was tired of—” you cut yourself off before you could finish. 

You had told yourself that the reason you hadn’t wanted to remain at his side was because you were tired of watching people practically tremble in his presence.

Now, though, you weren’t sure that was the sole reason.

Every woman in that damn room had an eye on him, and it had made you feel…strange. You weren’t typically a jealous person by nature, but tonight had proved you capable of such emotions. In fact, you were practically tearing the heads off of beautiful women in your mind, wanting to punish them all for having the audacity to look at him like he was a piece of meat.

Maybe you and him weren’t so different after all.

He cleared his throat pointedly. “Tired of…?”

You huffed rather childishly, turning your head away from his hard stare. “Of the attention that certain people were giving you,” you begrudgingly admit. 

There was no use lying to him, since falsely having him believe that you were actually interested in Frank seemed like a sure way to get on his bad side—if you weren’t already on it.

With his hand that wasn’t resting beside your head, he took a hold of your jaw, carefully turning your face back to his. “And would these people happen to be women?”

You merely shrugged, having no desire to discuss the matter any further.

Sylus studied you for a moment, contemplating. He looked as if he couldn’t decide between scolding you or shaking some sense into you. You were almost shocked that he didn’t go straight to mocking you, but you had an inclination that he had felt the same thing whilst you sat at the bar with one of his enemies.

He dropped his head beside yours again, murmuring in your ear. “If you wanted my attention, sweetie, I would have given it to you.”

You almost moaned, his breath tickling the sensitive column of your throat. Lifting a hand, you grabbed onto his wrist to steady yourself, only for him to pull out of your grasp immediately.

A flash of fear shot through you at his sudden rejection, but it was almost immediately soothed as he pried your fingers open enough to slip his own between them, pinning your hand to the door. 

“Do you have any idea the kind of danger you could have been in tonight?” It was a growling question that didn’t require an answer. You felt your breath pick up in pace, the swollen peaks of your nipples skimming the top of his abs every time your chest heaved. “Frank has been known to have a string of disappearing acquaintances. He wouldn’t hesitate to maim you out of spite to me.”

You shuddered at the thought of being so close to a killer. And yet the proximity between you and Sylus did not give you that same feeling of dread. You know that he has killed many before, and despite not having his death confirmed or denied just yet, you knew that Frank was now somewhere in the afterlife, hopefully being accosted by the people he had killed.

You knew, but you had to ask.

“Did you kill him because I was speaking to him?”

Sylus shook his head, pulling back just enough that he could look you in the eyes. “I killed him because it was long overdue. I’ve had men who have been sent out to keep an eye on that bastard, and many of them did not return,” he explained quietly, a hint of frustration in his tone. “If I had taken my eyes off of you for a second—”

He audibly swallowed, cutting himself off. You could easily guess what he was going to say, and clearly the mere thought of it was haunting him.

A wash of guilt fell over you. If you had just walked away when you were told, he wouldn’t have had to do anything.

“He wasn’t going to take one more person from me,” he finally gritted.

That very thought should have filled you with dread. It should have made you sick to your stomach.

But the mention of his eyes on you for every second you weren’t beside him caused a spreading warmth to grow in your chest. Despite the situation you hadn’t realised you were in, you had been safe that whole time under his watch.

“I would have thought you’d be glad to get me out of your hair,” you said, only half joking to diffuse the tension between you.

He didn’t seem amused by it at all, his grip on your hand tightening. “Like I said, kitten. If I wanted you dead, I’d be seeing you out of the front door instead of standing here, resisting urges I have no right to have.”

Your thighs pressed together again at his whispered confession. His eyes always warned of danger, but they were gleaming with desire. 

You were not losing out on him tonight.

With the most tender of touches, you ran the tips of your fingers over his exposed chest with your free hand, feeling his steady breath falter. He swallowed thickly, suffocating your hand in his against the door. 

“I apologise,” he whispered gruffly, his head dipping to where your collarbone was visible to him in the neckline of your dress. 

You shuddered as his breath danced across your clammy skin, droplets from his wet hair falling against your chest. “For what?”

“Handling you the way I did.” His lips were mere inches away from you, and it took all your strength not to grab the back of his head and slam his face into your chest. “The thought of that bastard doing something—”

“Kiss me.”

Sylus didn’t give you a chance to cringe at your own slip up as every inch of him pressed you into the door, his mouth attacking your pulse with expert precision. You let loose a shaky moan, your nails scratching down his rock hard pectoral.

Every ounce of animosity you had been harbouring since the event dissipated at his touch. He was rough and unrelenting, his indistinguishable power overwhelming you in the most delicious way possible.

“Lower,” you breathed softly, wanting him everywhere.

You weren’t sure how he heard you, but he obeyed your hushed command. In one swift movement, his free arm clutched you around your waist, lifting you up. Both of your legs perched perfectly either side of him, suffocating his waist.

With his newfound access to your already exposed chest, he immediately got to work, sucking and biting at the thin layer of skin over your collarbones. The pain of sharp teeth sinking into flesh married faultlessly with undeniable pleasure, causing you to writhe against him. 

A firm bulge pressed against your heat as he ground himself against your cunt. Even with the sensation being drastically muted by the material of your thong and his robe being between you, you appreciated the absolute weapon he was concealing beneath his nightly attire.

“Ah—” you gasped, the soft sound immediately erased by a sharp hiss as he sunk his teeth into your skin again.

His mouth slowly travelled down to the tops of your breasts, where he pressed uncharacteristically tender kisses to each one. You were a wriggling, desperate mess already, but he was still sane enough to take a moment to study your chest.

“I have always appreciated art,” he crooned.

He removed the arm that held you around your waist, purely holding you up with his lower body alone. Your breasts were granted a sweet release as he pulled the thin straps of your dress down, pulling the material out of his way like a man depraved.

It was the look in his eye. A million compliments that didn’t need to be put into words. You could see them. Hell, you could feel the utter captivation radiating from him.

Your free hand smoothed over the delicious muscle of his shoulders before curling around the back of his neck. With a swift yank of his head, his mouth locked onto one of your firm nipples. Back arching off of the door, you cried out as his tongue swirled and flicked the sensitive area, leaving you a little mindless.

He finally let go of your hand, hungry to feel more of you. One hand pushed up your thigh, the skirt of your dress riding up with the movement before he squeezed your hip. The other cupped your neglected breast, thumb brushing over your pert nipple as if it were the joystick on a gaming console. Up, down, left, right, and all over again. 

It was almost too much, and yet you still wanted more. He ground himself against you again, your head slamming back against the door with a reverberating thud. You felt it this time. The thickness of his solid shaft, followed by the damp sensation of your arousal.

You needed him there. Now.

“Mm—” you mumbled pathetically, unable to get a word out.

Sylus chuckled against the breast he was feasting on. “What was that, sweetie?”

All you could do was wriggle yourself against his cock, hoping to convey a message to him without the need to trip over your words. You wanted to swallow up every inch of it with your warmth, leaving it glowing like a damn firefly with the glistening sheen of your essence.

“I know that pretty mouth of yours can talk,” he whispered against the column of your throat. “Tell me what you want.”

Your mouth was dry, like the space between your legs had stolen your saliva to lubricate you further.

“More.”

Sylus clicked his tongue. “There are nicer ways to ask.”

You knew he wasn’t being serious, but you would have begged on your knees at this point. He had to have felt your legs trembling against his waist, aching for him to fill you.

“Since you haven’t specified…” he began, pulling his head back completely.

For a second, you thought you had actually irritated him. There was a darkness in his stare, a hunger. You couldn’t figure it out, but it didn’t matter once the dark tendrils of his Evol snaked around your arms, dragging them up above your head. Your eyes widened.

Was he going to leave you tied up here?

“Do you trust me, sweetie?”

Any sane person being restrained against a door by the literal epitome of bad news himself would have frantically shook their head.

But you didn’t. You trusted him with every damn crevice of your soul.

“Y-yes,” you stammered.

He brought up a hand to stroke your side before hooking it under your thigh, along with the other one. One swift lift had you hurtling upwards, as if you weighed no more than a spaniel puppy.

Your legs were quickly on his shoulders, securing him a front row seat to your soaked thong. Getting any wetter had to be impossible, but your position was serving to give it a good try. Wrists tightly secured above your head, your legs wrapped around his neck, and his warm breath fanning over your damp thighs.

No throne in the most lavish palace on earth would be more tempting than this seat of yours.

His crimson eyes flickered up to your face, a flash of uncertainty in his gaze. “Is this where you want me?”

You nodded rapidly before his hand came up to hold your jaw, halting your wordless answer.

“Words please, kitten,” he requested.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please, Sylus.”

He grinned, an unnerving and yet exciting sight. Wasting no time, he gripped the flimsy material of your cheap thong, tearing it at the seams to grant himself access to your bare cunt.

There was no teasing. No small pecks to your inner thighs. Not even a warning before his hot, balmy tongue lapped up a line of your juices through your folds, slowly dragging over the bundle of nerves nestled within. It took him no time at all to figure out where that heavenly little mound was, as if he knew your body like the back of his veiny hand.

Teeth. Tongue. Lips. All three of them fighting brutally for their moment on your clit, as if he couldn’t figure out which to use first. Your brain could hardly keep up with the flitting between this and that. All you knew was that you didn’t want it to stop.

Your legs tightened around his head in a bone-crushing squeeze. The suffocation only served to push him further, like he was fuelled by the possibility of having his jaw crushed like a damn walnut between your thighs.

“I could think of worse ways to go,” he growled against your hole, nose buried deeply into your folds to inhale your scent.

He pressed further into you, his tongue penetrating you with a greedy lick down your plush walls. Your hips jolted of their own accord at the sensation. He was your puppet master, making you grind and flinch on demand with his calculated actions.

The more his tongue slid in and out of you—the tip of his nose perfectly hitting your clit every time—the more of him you wanted inside of you. 

Gone were your soft, airy moans. You were crying out to whoever would listen, announcing to the world beyond the walls that you were being fucking devoured by the most feared mouth in the N109 Zone.

A mouth that could bring grown men to their trembling knees with one mere bark of an order.

You were drunk on it.

He slowly withdrew his tongue, immediately swallowing. “Like candy,” he murmured.

He licked at his lips, eyes trained on the concoction of his saliva and your fluids with awe. His hand shifted from where it had still been gripping your thigh, the soft pads of his fingers tracing circles around your hole for lubrication.

“Can you handle them?” He didn’t look up as he asked, fixated on the patterns he was repeatedly drawing through your folds.

“Mhm,” you mumbled.

He clicked his tongue. “Words.”

“Yes.”

He seemed to make quite the habit of just diving in as soon as he had permission. In one swift push, he impaled you on his lengthy index finger, his knuckles pressing against your pelvic bone.

You cried out towards the ceiling. “Fuck!” 

“You must’ve had some pretty disappointing experiences down here, sweetie,” he purred. “You’re so very tight.”

Every muscle in the lower half of your body was quivering with need, your hips unable to still themselves. He wasn’t wrong, nobody had ever truly left you gasping or crying out to the heavens.

You had a feeling he was about to change that.

Slowly, he dragged the digit back out, making sure to scrape down on your walls as he did. He began a steady rhythm, plunging his finger in and out of you lazily. His eyes held a repertoire of fascination, as if he’d been dreaming up this moment for quite some time.

He didn’t rush to add the second digit, but as soon as he did, you lost all sense of reality. The curling and pounding was precise and calculated, every brush of your neglected g-spot extracting a whimpering moan from you.

“Ngh…oh fuck,” you managed through a shuddering breath.

“Good girl,” he praised huskily. “I want to feel you come undone. Can you do that for me, darling?”

If he kept talking to you like that, it was going to happen a lot sooner than he would expect. The mental challenge of holding back was near impossible, and seemed to be displeasing him.

He picked up his pace. Firm, brutal bucks of his hand giving you every push towards that edge that you were trying to keep a distance from. You were yanking at the tendrils gripping your wrists, crying out pathetically at the sheer velocity of his fingers.

“I hope you’re not holding back on me,” he warned quietly.

He wanted you to finish. He was so very desperate to feel your release that he was practically shoving you towards it.

You couldn’t deny him.

The building pressure in your core gave out as you orgasmed, a litany of thuds marrying the sounds of your pleasured cries whilst you writhed against the door. Sylus, at the feeling of your walls contracting around his fingers, became a little breathless himself. He didn’t slow his pace, helping you ride out the waves of pleasure until your very last whimper. 

By the time you had caught your breath, the restraints on your hands slowly loosened, and you expected to be put back down onto solid ground.

Instead, Sylus brought his mouth back to your folds, clearing up the aftermath of your first real orgasm. He was slow and gentle, savouring the taste like a vintage bottle of wine.

He was gentle when lowering you back to the floor, your legs trembling beneath you. You kept a hold of his arms, looking up at his hazy eyes. Anyone would think that he’d been the one on the receiving end of oral sex.

You wanted to give back. You wanted to see everything beneath his robe.

And apparently, your need was rather obvious.

“Not tonight, kitten,” he murmured, fixing your dress to cover your exposed body.

You didn’t know if you were more perplexed or hurt. Why not tonight? Did he not see you capable enough of being able to return the favour?

He brushed a strand of your unruly hair behind your ear in a contrasting manner to how he’d been handling you earlier. “I won’t know when to stop.”

You shuddered at the thought. “I’m okay with that.”

It wasn’t a lie. He could bend you over the railing of the balcony for the whole city to see, and you wouldn’t bat an eyelid.

But he wasn’t budging, the corner of his glistening lips curling upwards at your eagerness. “I don’t doubt that.” 

He leaned towards your ear, his voice a low whisper.

“But it’s going to take a lot more than my saliva and your sweet fluids to help you take me, sweetie.”

[drawingpad-studios]

Not gonna lie. With hair. He's giving off strict yet laid back teacher vibes.

dussekr

[lowkeyrobin]

Hii!! Is it possible to request a Minho x Reader Angst fic? I don’t have any real ideas for what i just rlly like angst😭

Anyway make sure you’re looking after yourself!!

YES 🙏🙏 I concocted the perfect idea for this so I hope you enjoy! ; thank you for requesting!! ; I wrote like a good chunk of this in geometry and physical science so this is actually kinda good lol ; also this is so damn long for me what the FUCK. ; also a bit of inspo in the end thanks to she by jelly roll...

MINHO ; they

summary ; minho loses you again

warnings ; language, guns & gun violence, explosions/bombs, death, he rips off your wckd jacket & top (not sexual), and a panic attack

disclaimers ; top ten most unneeded deaths in cinema

track ; she, jelly roll (again, not a word)

word count ; 2.5k

masterlist

Minho lost everything he'd been able to remember once he left the Glade, including you.

You were a smart thinker, which confused him as to why you stayed back with Gally and the other skeptics who didn't want to find escape in the maze. He tried so hard to convince you to come, but with such little time, he couldn't.

He'd spent months imprisoned mourning the loss of your presence. He didn't know how to function without you. He wondered where you were all the time, if you were even alive or not. He'd been wishing the best in your fate, in the scorch and back in the hands of WCKD. He missed your dorky smile and infectious laughter, hoping one day he could hear it again, even in the stars that he oh-so-missed gazing with you.

Your name scorched his heart every time it was spoken. Your face was engraved in his brain, to the point every time he thought of or imagined you, he'd fight back tears to stay strong. You were weaponized against him, being used to create false memories and episodes to help them find a cure.

Every time he'd wake up from a real dream where you were present, he'd end up in tears, to then have to cradle himself back to sleep. He'd been confined like this for months, then another few days before the bust. It was so, so much worse in the Last City, he'd rather have died in some horrific train crash then have missed his chance at freedom.

However, you survived. Gally did, too, though, even after Minho pierced his chest with a spear.

You'd joined some revolution gang together, learning to use guns and join the ranks. You'd been given bulletproof vests once you proved your worth, officially becoming part of the team.

Reuniting with Thomas, Fry, and Newt was a story in itself, but knowing, or at least hoping, that you'd see Minho again made your heart race in your chest. Gally took Thomas and Newt out to explore the perimeter of the city, letting you reconnect and catch up with Fry and get to know Brenda and her father figure Jorge.

Brenda grew fond of you quickly, liking your badassery and passion to overthrow WCKD. She knew you weren't into trying to kill innocents and understood that you wanted bullets in Janson's and Paige's heads, and you were willing to do it for free.

You showed her and Fry how to use the electro-guns, two you'd stolen from WCKD guards that defended the city walls. They're good for torture, but it was never your taste of tea, you left the others to do the sick shit. You wanted your friends back, you didn't even know they'd been free up til earlier today.

Once the trio came back, they set up a plan that you and Gally jumped in on to deflect and suggest ideas. It was set for tomorrow night, and you didn't know how to process it. You try not to think of Minho the rest of the night, which you awfully fail at, as you'd fallen asleep thinking of him.

You play out your role over and over again, overthinking every single detail down to the grade of gun you'd have strapped to your side. Gally, now your close friend after all this time together, could see your nervousness and anticipation.

"You okay?" He asks, leaning on the railing to your shared bunk bed. You slept on the bottom, him on the top.

You nod, arms sprawled over the top of your pillow, basically holding it like it was going anywhere. "I'm good. Nervous"

He nods, "It'll be alright, we're gonna get him back"

You'd stolen WCKD gaurd suits, your first priority. You and Gally walk around the perimeter of the building post getting the kids on the bus. Your masks are up to avoid any real guards noticing that you're fakes. He holds his bulky gun across his chest, while yours is angled with the safety on across your back. A hand rests over the pistol on your side.

You can feel your heart pounding behind your ribcage, the anticipation of seeing Minho and taking down WCKD killing you. Gally pats your shoulder for reassurance and nods forward silently, wanting to pick up the pace.

You notice explosions in the distance, firey flames illuminating the sky.

As you walk under the main area, you notice a fire extinguisher land in the modern pool, splashing water into the air as it sinks to the bottom. You hear yells, then three bodies plop into the pool. You and three other guards behind you run to the scene, while you and Gally lag behind, knowing who just showed up.

Thomas, Newt, and Minho rise out of the water, floating over to the side after Thomas sends Janson, standing in the bay of the window, maybe twenty stories high, a middle finger. They wade over to the edge and pull themselves out, guards hold them at gunpoint, leaving their faces shaken and in despair.

Gally acts first, shoving one of the guards into the pool, then you pistol whip the one on your right, and you together knock out the last guy. The boys stare at you two, confused as to why two guards had apparently saved them, their questions are quickly answered as Gally rips his mask off.

"Hey"

"Oh, you bloody genius!"

"Oh, shit"

"What the hell?" Minho mutters.

Laying your eyes on him again, even though that mask, it brought you nearly to tears. Seeing his eyes, so tired, his body clearly so weak from the mental and physical stress, your heart broke for him. You make sure your handheld gun had the safety on before tucking it away properly.

"Long story" Gally replies to Minho, knowing what he was thinking.

Minho, still in genuine shock, adrenaline coursing through his veins, looks to you, wondering if you were maybe Brenda or Fry. You bite the inside of your cheek before pulling your mask off, softly smiling at Minho.

Newt and Thomas smile, Newt much more weak, as he was beginning to crank out.

"Y/n?" He questions in disbelief. "How- am I dreaming again?"

You quickly pound the boy into a hug, the moisture from his body rubbing off onto your red and grey outfit. The mask lays on the concrete, where Gally kicks it into the water, same with his.

You hear him begin to sob, holding onto you so tightly in fear you'd disappear like all the times before. You rub his back with your dominant hand, which trails up his spine toward his nape.

"I thought you were dead" He cries, "They've been using you in those simulations-"

"It's okay." You softly speak, "We have to go, you can tell me all about it later"

He nods, eyes still widened in shock and confusion as you follow the other three as they quickly flee the scene.

You take cover by some bushes, leaving Newt on the side to rip his jacket off as he sweats profusely. The veins in his neck were bulging out of his skin, colored a matte black.

You couldn't help but stare, unable to listen to the others talk. You quickly rush to his aid, wanting to help him be the most comfortable he possibly could be.

You crouch down next to him, giving him some reassuring words that he'd be okay. You help him to his feet, where Minho is at your side.

Gally and Thomas lead the way as another explosion rings through the air near you. You duck your head as some loose shrapnel lightly hits your skin, thankfully not enough force given to puncture your face.

The explosions only become worse as you run through a little diner, having no alternate route around as the city was being blown to smithereens.

"God damnit, we said blow up the entrance, not the whole damn city"

Newt falls to the ground, too weak to walk as black ooze drips from his lips. Glass explodes behind you, in which you quickly shove Minho to the ground in front of you to protect him. You cover your head, letting the glass shards hit your protected back.

He gasps for air for a moment as Thomas and Gally prop him up against a safe wall, trying to talk to him. You and Minho follow suit, making a quick plan to go get the temporary cure from Brenda and Jorge, and run back to give it to Newt.

"Stay strong for me, okay?" Minho speaks, his hands on the blonde's shoulders.

He nods, his eyes clearly lost in a daze, his vision blurry and wobbly.

Minho pats his shoulder before standing up, letting you give him a nod of reassurance. You and Gally follow Minho, weapons drawn to protect him as he leads with his quick sprinting skills.

You three get one last look at Newt and Thomas before fleeing, working your way through the maze of buildings and explosions to get to your friends. Gally shoots a guard at his side while you do the same at about a 10'o'clock radius.

"This way!"

You follow Minho, the explosions so loud that they defeaned gunshots. The battery on your stolen WCKD gun runs out, and you toss it to the side, resorting to using your pistol to defend your friends. Another bomb nearly knocks you off your feet, causing you to stumble into Minho.

"Sorry!" You shout over the noise.

"You okay?" He shouts back, helping you balance on your feet again.

"Yeah!" You quickly reply, nodding forward for him to continue running to get the cure.

You make it down to the Berg, where Fry, Brenda and Jorge await your arrival.

"The cure!"

"We can't leave him here like this"

"We can't take him back-"

"We have to, please"

"It's too dangerous, we won't make it back to the Berg in time, or we'll get blown up carrying him!"

You stand at Minho's side, looking down at the blonde haired boy as he stands up. He wipes the tears from his eyes, looking at you.

"We have to leave him, Minho"

He nods, slowly placing the cure in Newt's cold hand. He takes one last look at him before turning away, waiting for anyone to speak and give orders.

Brenda speaks up again, deciding to get back to the Berg as fast as possible. You all follow her, guns out, ready to shoot whoever you had to at this point.

Minho turns to you as you run side by side, "Why are you here? Why are you putting yourself in the face of danger? To save me or something?"

You give him a little head tilt to act as a shrug, "You called"

"What?"

You shake your head, deciding to explain it once you were in the hands of safety. An explosion, which cause the ground to rumble beneath you, knocks you all off your feet and onto the hard concrete.

You all groan in pain, having fallen all over each other. Brenda had fallen onto Fry, and they both stumble to the side, apologizing to one another profusely. You'd fallen onto Minho, of course, and help him back to his feet.

You feel lightheaded, your face growing cold, odd for the amount of heat and fire and running around you'd been doing. You lean onto the boy, feeling woozy, as maybe you'd stood up to fast.

Then you fall to your knees, some invisible force knocking you down, your cargo pants ripping at the knees from the impact.

"Y/n!" You hear Minho shout, his voice echoey in your ears.

You hear three gunshots coming from each Fry, Gally, and Brenda. You look back, seeing a WCKD guard fall on their back after taking three shots to the head and chest. Minho's hands rest on your shoulder and on your cheek as he calls your name, asking if you're okay. You see his eyes glance down, where he quickly looks back up to not scare you.

You stand up, numb to any pain. He follows, making sure you're able to keep balance on your feet. He quickly rips off the bulletproof vest for you and your jacket, revealing the wound right under your collar bone.

You look down at it, then look back up at him, eyebrows furrowed. You look to the other three, eyes widened in shock and fear. Another explosion pops a few hundred yards away, shaking the ground again, though not enough to knock you all down once more.

Minho quickly shouts for anything he can use to keep pressure on the wound. He held his hand over it, as the bleeding was horrible at the moment. His hands are covered in your blood, considering the bullet that shot you went clear through you. You notice the bullet a few feet away, light flickering off of it as it rolls into the street where multiple bloody bodies lay.

Minho rips a piece of his shirt and stuffs it into the exit wound, ordering you to hold it there. He pulls you along as you continue running through the city. Your left arm rests over Minho's shoulders, not wanting to upset your other side. Considering moving, it would only agitate it more, and you were trying to keep pressure on the wound anyway.

As you reach the final yards to reach the Berg where Jorge and Vince wait, you collapse to your knees again, landing face first in the debris covered concrete. Minho falls with you, your weight having dragged him down. He tries to pull you up but notices the pool of blood forming around you. A thin, but large pool.

He calls your name over and over, then flips you on your back, where blood sputters out of your mouth. He quickly pulls you up, your back now held up by Brenda and Fry, who were quick to turn back. Gally crouches down on one knee and slowly removes the cloth from the wound, absolutely drenched in crimson.

"No, no, no, no. Not now! Y/n, get up, please," He pleads, watching Vince and Jorge rush to your aid. "They were shot by a gaurd, went clean through, there's so much blood-"

You reach your hand out to Minho as the men pick you up off the ground, where you stumble to walk with them. They practically carry you on their shoulders to the Berg.

Another explosion knocks you all to the ground again, leaving bruises on faces, arms, and legs as you're pounded onto the ground. You'd be lucky enough not to get AIDS at this point.

Minho stumbles to his feet, rushing to you as the men pick themselves up before you.

He notices blood spewing from the other side of your chest. He rips the extra layers of clothing off your torso, tossing your pistol to the side as well. Gally looks around, finger on the trigger of his gun, looking for a shooter.

"Stray bullet!" Brenda shouts, "Get them in there! Go! Thomas needs us!"

Minho places his hands under your arms and drags you into the Berg himself, all the children right in view of your slumped body. You choke on blood and air, feeling your face grow cold and pale. The liquid trails up into the aircraft, staining the hard metal red for the time being.

Vince jumps into the driver's seat, ordering the others to help you and how to before it's too late. Brenda stands next to him, trying to get any info out of Thomas through the walkies.

You wrap your arms around Minho, feeling the pain in your chest now as you grunt and cry. You squeeze onto the back of his shirt, the pain causing you to claw your fingers into him. He holds you, his heart breaking in two as you struggle to breathe.

The placement, it wasn't possible to keep you this time. It wasn't possible to keep you and be free in any situation, in any timeline, in any universe.

"I don't wanna say goodbye"

He sits on the beach every morning, talking to the sunrise as if you were there next to him. He didn't mind the sand that would pile up in his boots or the dusty grain that would stick to his hydrophoric hands all damn day if it weren't for the water there to wash it away.

His fingers traced over your name on the rock when he felt lonely, like you were magically there, hugging him again.

He'd never know for sure what you meant when you said that he called. He understood that you definitely didn't hear him call for you after awakening after nightmares, but maybe you did, he wouldn't have known. He guessed in a metaphorical sense, he did call for you, which you both knew, but it still confused him somehow. He wanted you to explain it all so he'd understand, like how you always did.

He regretted never being able to rant about all his feelings to you. He wished he had time to tell you about all he went through so you could reassure him that you'd protect him forever. You'd protect him from the nightmares and the scars, the mental baggage that would weigh him down forever.

He started crying himself to sleep after he began to forget your face.

He just wanted another hug, but your face was beginning to blur out. It sent him into a panic attack right there. No one was there to help him as he cried and clawed into the dirt, trying to ground himself again. He couldn't believe himself, he treasured you so much yet he was forgetting your face after merely a year after your dissapearance?

It didn't help that after a while, he began to forget your voice too, that hurt even more. He'd been forced to talk about his feelings to Thomas like a parent-child conference. He wasn't himself anymore.

His eyes were always swollen, eyebags dark and weighing his happiness down. He was depressed. Every smile he showed was just him trying to make his way through another day's work, distracting himself from the fact that he lost you, for good this time, he watched it.

He wrote letters to you with no address to send to. It didn't help whatsoever that he himself pushed you out into the sea once Thomas regained consciousness so he could say farewell. He watched it all, he knew you were gone this time. At least he had some sense of closure.

He had nothing left of you other than that WCKD jacket you wore, that haunted him as he slept. He only kept it because even with the logo of the corporation that tortured him for years and past the bullet holes in it, it provided him a little comfort that you were still there.

He found that telling stories of you to the younger kids helped.

"They were like the life of the party, bright smile, infectious laughter. They were the one everyone wanted to be around. You could see the sunrise in their eyes."

"Who were they to you?" One little girl asks.

"I don't really know" Minho shrugs, looking down at his hands for a moment.

"Where are they now?" A little boy asks, tilting his head.

"They're in the sky, they have been. They're stuck there. I hope I see them again" He replies with a little nod, looking up at the sun beginning to set up on the island.

"Why are they stuck in the sky?"

"They're afraid of coming down"

[starzgaze]

CONCEPT: folk legend!sjw/biologist!reader

tw: missing people, stalking, implications of cult, really really itty bittt twinge of yandere if you squint really hard. also mostly word vomit i just wanted this concept out of my head oh god

Imagine you're a biologist who decided to go back to your little town that's located nearby an eerie mountain thats surrounded with equally eerie forests. You heard from your parents that there was a sudden shift in the wildlife and the animals seems to decreasing in population which concerns the wildlife protection department of your town.

So this piques your interest and you decided to visit your hometown. You were warmly greeted by the locals and you caught up with your old childhood friends by drinking in the local bar where you swung your first drink. After all that you shifted back your focus on the main reason why you went back, the wildlife is acting strange.

You decided to daytime observation first, quietly watching the remaining animals and see what could possibly be behind the sudden disappearances of the animals. This didn't work much to your dismay so that means you had to conduct night time observations. Your parents was worried but you reminded that you're a licensed researcher and you know what you're doing. Reluctantly, your parents let you go out into the forest.

But of course before you leave, one of the town's elders grabbed you the side and gave you a warning. A warning that you should probably back out and continue with your daytime observations and not continue this one... You of course don't listen, you're an adult! Why will you sway to the words of an old lady or a stupid legend that was made for children to keep them in check? You're an adult, a person of science and logic. Folk tales are neat but isn't exactly your thing.

Though.. honestly you wished you heeded the elder's warning. When you entered the forest you saw things that wasn't there in the morning. Strange tied up sticks that was shaped like dolls hanged in the trees or twine wrapped around the trunks that had pieces of paper stuck on to it. You were pretty sure this is not the doing of an animal but what sick person would do this? It all looked so... ritualistic. You crouched down on to the leafy floor and picked up a 'doll' that fell off from the tree, it had a poorly sewed clothes on it and black coarse animal hair glued on to its head, resembling a pretty shaggy haircut. It looked like an old friend. You looked at it, noting the little details of the doll. This suddenly reminds you of a time when you were younger that there was a series of missing people cases in this town.

One of those victims was your friend, Jinwoo, and he was the last person to go missing during that time. You remember you were adamant on searching the forest yourself to find him but your parents stopped you and locked you in your room just in case you tried to sneaked out into the forest. You honestly missed him but you shook your head, dwelling on the past will hinder your research. Stepping away from the ritualistic scene, you continued hiking into the forest trying to find a suitable place to observe the wildlife in the night.

After a while of wandering around, you found a good place to set up your gear. You unzipped your bags and prepared your things when suddenly you felt a shift in the air, a shiver went down your spine when you moved your head to see if there was anything there. You were told the locals rarely walk outside anymore especially past 7pm, a result of the cases back then. So no one should be out at this hour in the forest, you should be alone.

You decided to ignore it first and focus on finishing your set up. When you finished gearing up and prepping your things you got another shot of eerieness that made your body tingle. Just what the hell is happening? You felt you were being watched from every angle but when you look around you don't see anything. Were you being preyed upon an animal?

You readied your pepper spray that was stored in your pocket, animals typically stays away from you if you're deemed as the biggee threat. So, as long you know how to appear bigger and scarier you should be fine. You've been doing this for years now but something tells you there's something not right, it feels... like it's not an animal preying on you but you can't exactly explain it. Your mind goes back to the moment where you stumbled upon a weird place in the forest that had a bunch of ritualistic things and you touched a weird doll that looked an old friend, it might be related to that.

Before you could continue deducing in your head you hear a loud crunch in the dark. This is starting to creep you out. You started to try to calm yourself and rationalize your thoughts. You're a person of science you shouldn't be this scared just think of something that makes sense it might be just a wolf or a bear.. hopefully. As you tried to steady your mind the light from your gear suddenly shuts off and you were enshrouded in darkness.

This is where the sounds of footsteps and howling started to intensify, Your heart was racing as you didn't move from your spot. You were shaking as you held your pathetic little pepper spray and tried to block out the noises. How the hell are you supposed to rationalize this?! You were panicking hard as you finally dropped to your feet and covered your ears, still holding the spray in your other hand.

Then all the noise stopped but you can feel SOMETHING behind you. It doesn't feel human or something you could comprehend and your mind is running back to the little warning the old sweet elder tried warninfg you of. Is this the end? They said it was monstrous from the rare sightings. I think you remember the elder saying it started appearing shortly after the end of the series of disappearances. Your mind is fogging up from panick.

You felt it's hand on your shoulder, it's cold breath right beside your neck. It spoke and... you recognize the voice. You finally turned your head and you were greeted with a pair of deep purple eyes staring right back at you, it felt like you were starung back to the abyss. You called out it's name

"Jinwoo?"

[anchoris-sailor]

SPR Redesign part 7: Musical people Tretone and Base Cleph! (And Claire, she's there too)

Additional Notes:

I gave Claire a bun!!!! She's a real girlboss now!!

The golden markings on Tretone is based off of kintsugi, an artform where you repair broken pottery with gold. I imagine he didn't have these before Banland.

In my version, the harmonions, including Tretone, are partly machine. They have evolved to this point over a long period of time, mostly due to their utilitarian culture. Not even Dusekkar can fully understand them now that they have strayed so far from what he had originally made.

Base Cleph has little glass-like gear wings because I said so.

And with this last redesign, I will be concluding the redesign series! For now... Who knows. I might take requests for other series like pr2 or ttr. It all depends on if anyone would want that.

[anystalker707]

Selfish

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x [gn, afab] Reader Kinktober prompt: Caught Tags: Oral / sloppy / Zoro eats you out / Transmasc friendly / use of 'pussy' tho / Some overstim

KINKTOBER LIST MASTERLIST

          A sigh escaped your nose as you looked out the window of the crow’s nest. Usually, you’d hang out there with Zoro, but there still were the rare times in which you’d just sit there, observing the sea, like you did today.

Zoro was still there when you’d first arrived, with a barbell over his back as he did squats, talking briefly with you about how he’d been trying to increase the load. It was more than nice to sit there, watching his muscles flex under drops of sweat as he worked out—the pump made his muscles stand out, and it was impossible not to look. Soon, Zoro left, saying he needed some meat and napping after the intense training. What a shame. If you’d known he was training, you would’ve come to watch him before.

Your eyes wandered to where Zoro’s barbell was left, and your mind returned to Zoro's training. Today was leg day, but he was training arms and chest yesterday, and it was so fucking hot, too. Honestly, he was hot every day. The way his chest flexed during the overhead press, his sweatpants hung low on his hips during the chin-ups, his ass’ shape whenever he wore shorts for leg day… It almost felt wrong to keep using him with your eyes while he was so focused on training, but you were almost convinced Zoro did it on purpose when he turned the bench exactly toward where you were sitting whenever he did his chest exercises.

It wasn’t often that he did it, but you once caught him doing hip thrusts, and that haunted you for a good while. The way he held the heavy barbell right along his hips as he pushed them up. He was huffing, eyebrows furrowed as he fixed his eyes in a random spot while doing his reps, probably not even aware of your hungry eyes.

The fact your mind wandered around was no crime, right? You bet Zoro still thought about the day you were doing stiffs without knowing he was right there behind you, in a way your hips pushed right back against him when you bent down to grab the bar. He even took a sharp breath and walked away with a hand on his face, facing away from you. It had an effect on him, of course. That makes both of you even, since the mutual pining while spotting each other didn’t count, right? It was mutual. You leaned into each other’s touches.

Now, back to that day of the hip thrusts… You gulped, shifting a little in your seat. Those thoughts affected you way more than you wanted them to; you didn’t believe it was due to not having slept with anyone in a while. Zoro was genuinely hot.

You really wished you were on his hips that day, instead of the bar. Zoro probably had a big cock, given the bulge you’d seen through his gym clothes—the tight shorts and the sweatpants gave small room for imagination—, and you’d love to ride him, feeling him stretch you all nice while he reached deep inside you… Damn, he would look so pretty with scratch marks down his chest and his back. Maybe it was unattainable, but nothing stopped you from fantasizing. He could even fold you over and decide to take you right on the ground of the crow’s nest, that you’d be happy.

Your breath was a little out of pace, and it felt so hot between your legs. You’d been holding yourself back lately because it was wrong to touch yourself at the thought of your friend like that, right? Maybe it wasn’t so wrong.

The attempts to calm yourself down were in vain; you weren’t going to get up from there, the fantasies also didn’t get off your mind, and things only managed to get worse with the way you squirmed. Well, Zoro said he was going to eat and sleep, which meant it’d take a good while, right? You could use the moment you had alone in the nest for now.

A shaky breath escaped your nose as you undid the buttons of your pants and pushed them down with your underwear. The clothes were off one of your legs so that you could spread them properly, giving you better access to yourself.

“Fuck…” You whispered, reaching a hand between your legs. You were so wet already, all just at the thought of him. Shameful.

A gasp escaped your lips when your fingers met your clit, starting to rub circles into it, which drew a low moan from you. It felt so good, you had to hold back the temptation of just rubbing your clit until you came, instead letting your fingers down to your entrance.

Zoro’s fingers were much longer and thicker than yours—sometimes, you had the opportunity to see him holding his katanas from close while you fought side to side. He had such big, strong hands— A gasp escaped your lips as your fingers curled inside you, probably not reaching half where Zoro would reach, but that was something; most likely, also the best you would get of that.

You wished Zoro were there behind you, whispering in your ear about how well he’d prepare you for his cock, fingering deep inside, maybe caressing your thigh with his free hand, and—

“Hm?” The sudden sound caught your attention, making you immediately freeze and open your eyes, slowly removing your fingers from inside yourself. Zoro was halfway out of the trapdoor, looking at you with a blank stare. Out of all days, why did he have to come to nap here right today?

Zoro let out a long sigh as he finally climbed all the way up and closed the door before he walked closer. He was still shirtless, only in those sweats, as he walked over to you, clicking his tongue. Despite the almost empty expression, Zoro’s eyes were intense, darkening as he stepped closer and looked down at you. You wanted to just disappear, pretend this never happened. Hell, you didn’t even know if Zoro liked someone else, or if he was aroace, or if he—

“So that’s what you do when I’m not around?” The teasing was evident in his tone, and his lips slowly parted into a grin. Zoro had to take a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment as he shook his head. “Could’ve at least invited me, don’t you think? It’s selfish of you.”

“Mmph, no, I just—”

Words escaped your grasp when Zoro lowered himself, kneeling down in front of you, right between your legs. His gaze continued on yours.

“‘Think I can give you a treat, hm? Please?” He eyed you from under his lashes, licking his lips.

Who were you to resist? You gulped, nodding as you pulled your hands away from yourself and allowed Zoro to take over. His eyes were still on you when he spread your legs apart further, with big hands grasping your thighs, but he eventually pulled you closer and set your thighs over his shoulders. Only feeling his breath fanning over your pussy was enough to make you shudder.

Zoro leaned forward, giving you an experimental lick that went from your entrance to your clit, then he looked back up at you. “Sensitive? Did you cum already?”

“No,” you breathed, voice weaker than you wanted it to be. Shit.

He raised his eyebrows and hummed softly before he leaned in again. His tongue was warm, running flat against your clit and giving it way better friction than you could’ve achieved with your fingers. A gasp escaped your lips, and you tried your best to keep your moans to yourself, gripping the edge of the couch.

Zoro’s tongue circled your clit, playing with it briefly before his it went down to your entrance. Your thighs quivered, almost squishing his head between your thighs, and your back arched when his tongue slipped inside you, lapping as deeply as he could. It felt way better than any fantasy your brain could come up with late at night.

“More,” you moaned, trying to keep your hips from moving, though it wasn’t easy, not with how good Zoro’s mouth felt. He mouthed at you, practically making out with your pussy as he sucked lightly, slowly starting to give more attention to your clit, but it still wasn’t much.

The arousal pooled in your lower stomach shamefully quickly, given how you’d been touching yourself earlier—not to mention how sensitive you were to Zoro’s touches by itself. Zoro was still mouthing at you when your orgasm peaked, almost making you really squeeze his head between your thighs if Zoro weren’t holding them. His fingers sank hard into your skin, which would’ve been uncomfortable if not so arousing. You gasped, arching your back and pressing yourself more against Zoro as you came.

Zoro made a slurping noise, humming against you, licking you clean. His tongue had no right to feel that good, making you whimper, and your thighs twitch a little whenever it ran flat against your clit.

“Mmph, Zoro…” You whined, your voice high-pitched and dragged. Well, you could barely hold yourself back anymore, given how he just kept eating you out even after you came. It looked like he’d been starving, mouthing at your pussy so hungrily.

Zoro’s lips eventually wrapped around your clit, giving it his full attention, and easily had your back arching and your toes curling. Your fingers ached around the couch’s edge with the way it dragged along the rough fabric. You were so sensitive already, but you wouldn’t ask him to stop—no, no, no, it felt so fucking good.

A breathless gasp escaped your lips when something pressed to your entrance, slowly slipping in. Despite the initial discomfort, it slowly added up to the previous pleasure. All of your assumptions about Zoro’s hands were so right. His finger reached in deep and, when accompanied by a second one, you couldn’t help but moan at how fine he stretched you, reaching in deep and curling against your sweet spot. He could reach all the nice spots.

“Z—Zoro,” you whimpered, toes curling, and the feeling from earlier was building in your lower stomach again. It was easier since you were already sensitive from a first orgasm. You hissed at the way he sucked on your clit and then gave it a fat lick—he spit on your pussy before he started eating it again.

It seemed like making you weak like that had been his goal all along. He watched you with unimpressed eyes, observing the way you squirmed until you were cumming again. Your eyes rolled back with pleasure as the feeling came undone, whimpering as Zoro kept eating you out through your high. Your mind went blank. He didn’t care about the sensitiveness, again; he insisted on licking you clean after you came, even licking his lips when he pulled away.

“Make sure to let me know, the next time,” Zoro sighed.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[autumnmobile12]

Food for thought: The SPR team is pretty eclectic as far as supernatural solutions go. They've got religious figures, people with psychic abilities, researchers. Any ghost they come across, they're pretty much set.

But forget supernatural causes for the hauntings a moment and go back to the first case where it was just a creaky building sinking into the earth. That can't be the only time that ever happened, so now I'm imagining the whole team has an interesting medley of random certifications and educational backgrounds just to make up for the various natural explanations they encounter.

Old pipework leaking water into the ground could also cause a building to sink. Maybe the soil the house was built on is just terrible at draining moisture. There could be a lot of reasons a house is sinking.

I'm imagining someone on Naru's payroll is a certified building inspector. (That takes roughly two semesters.)

Scratching noises and knocking sounds? Could be small animals or other pests, so someone also has a pest control certification? (Three months course.)

They have a lot of electrical equipment that could be a potential hazard. Somebody on the team could be a fire safety officer.

With the advent of the internet ('cause Ghost Hunt takes place in the 90s?) becoming more popular, someone on the team is now the IT person.

All of them probably have CPR and BLS training. Ayako probably just decided to become a certified trainer just to cut out the middle man. Right in the middle of an investigation, she just pulls out the dummy and workbooks and says, "All right, Mai and John get over here. Both of you are due to renew your CPR training."

Yasu probably went to law school just so he could be the company's attorney when the situation arose. (Also, great fallback plan. He would be the most aggravating lawyer ever.)

...

Just saying, if Mai or Yasu are moving on from the ghost hunting scene, they don't even need to put paranormal researcher on their resume.

"Miss, can you tell us why you have so many unrelated certifications on your CV?"

"...I had an...interesting career in my teens and twenties."

[thedruidsforest]

Super excited to announce that my fantasy book, Queensdaughter, is available for purchase straight from my printer! That means that instead of buying from Barnes & Noble, Amazon, etc, it will ship to you directly from the printing house. And, instead of me receiving a $0.50 USD compensation per sale, it's significantly more and will actually help me order more books, pay my next cover artist, etc. Check out the link above to order paperback, and click HERE to order hardcover 💚

Navette lives a peaceful life in her home of Osala, managing a bakery that was passed down to her and her elder sister. The night of the spring festival of Emystre arrives, and the village is laid to ruin when ancient creatures-the skáiga-come in search of the Queensdaughter. Navette flees to the capital, where she discovers her fate as the heir to the throne and a world far more vast than she had ever imagined.

This story follows Navette as she learns how to become a queen, control her innate magic, and battle the darkness that threatens her entire world. Meanwhile, her sister Ivy remains in Osala as the people try to rebuild a village from ruin, even as the darkness returns.

In the lands of Varyn, not all is as it seems. The trees begin to whisper of danger, the dragons of old are little more than legends, and even queens have their secrets. Love and companionship are more valued than ever as Varyn begins to sink into darkness, but even after the darkest of nights, not all is lost.

[shsl-fander]

Freckles On Your Back- Logince

Pairing: Logan/Roman

Word Count: 890

Summary: Roman's always creatively inspired by all the freckles scattered on Logan's back, so Logan lets him draw on them.

@spacedouterri @autisticlogankin @lavenderfoxboy

Roman blinked, finding himself staring at Logan from the bed as Logan gazed at himself in the mirror. He watched the other fiddle with his shirt buttons and Roman couldn't help but swoon, admiring his boyfriend.

Logan gently slipped off his button up, hanging his tie up on a rack, his eyes flickered toward the bed, where Roman sat, eyes glued to him.

Logan sighed, "Roman, you're staring at me."

Roman scoffed, "I would never do such things, nerd!" he insists, crossing his arms. "Can't a prince just look in the general direction of his gorgeous boyfriend taking his shirt off?" he cooed, leaning forward ever so slightly.

Logan rolled his eyes, snickering softly, "You're impossible," he mumbled, gently folding his button up before placing it down. "I don't understand the point in just staring at my back," he comments.

Roman felt a light smile tug at the corners of his lips, "Because you have a bunch of freckles on your back," he began, pink blush highlighting his cheeks,"And as an artist I can't help but imagine drawing something on them, connecting them. Or making little constellations, little nerd constellations."

He plopped himself up, pouncing off the bed and walking towards Logan before he snaked his arms around his waist. Roman rested his chin on Logan's shoulder, grinning wide. "You've got some on your face too, and chest," he hums, pointing towards the freckles scattered on Logan's nose.

Logan felt his face warm, especially as Roman's arms rested around his waist. His glasses began to fog, and he stammered. "You said you wanted to draw on me?" he repeats,"Why?"

Roman placed a gentle kiss onto Logan's cheek, smiling against his skin,"Like I said before, Specs! I'm an artist!" he declares,"I can't control my creative flow, it just happens! Its magical, and seeing all your freckles makes me want to draw on your back."

Logan bit his tounge, attempting to hold back the beaming smile threatening to peak out. Roman was right of course, Logan didn't understand Roman's creative urges but that didn't mean they weren't extremely endearing, because they were. Logan could learn so much from Roman, given how different he was to him, it was fascinating.

"Would you like to?" Logan offers, "As long as you use a skin safe pen I do not mind endulging in your wants."

Roman's face lit up, eyes glimmering with joy, "Oh my stars seriously?!" he exclaimed eagerly. "Oh my gosh peck Nerd, you're actually the best person EVER!" he yelped, running towards his art supplies in search for a skin safe pen.

"Aha!" Roman chirped, pulling a thin black pen out from it's box. He spun around on the balls of his feet, snickering, "Lay down Specs, I'm not gonna just draw on you while you're standing."

Logan couldn't help but chuckle softly, "My apologise Roman, I didn't know the proper procedure in drawing on my back," he teases. He laid down on his stomach, relaxing his muscles when Roman climbed next to him.

Roman hummed contently, sketching little drawings along Logan's skin before he began to connect each dot together. "Hey Lo this is actually kinda right up your alley," he comments.

Logan quirked his lips, raising an eyebrow, "How so?"he asks as he felt roman place his hand near his shoulder.

"They look like constellations! You love Space!" Roman replies cheerfully with a scoff, "Obviously!Use that brain of yours, geek."

Logan spluttered into laughter, shaking his head. "Darling, am I a geek or a nerd? You need to make a decision," he scolds lightly.

Roman waved him off, "I'll make a decision later! I'm focusing," he says dismissively, scrunching up his nose and biting his lip. Roman gently ran his hands along Logan's back,"You're so pretty Logan," he muttered.

Logan stammered, a flustered expression spread across his face. He spun his head in an attempt to face Roman but in his current position it was nearly impossible. "You can't even see my face right now," he countered.

"You're still beautiful though, Specs," Roman cooes as he continued to run the pen along his freckles. "I love you, I love having you be my muse!"

Logan couldn't help but smile, his lips quickly twitching upwards. "I love you too Roman, and I'll happily be your muse. Though I don't quite understand it," he admits. Logan paused, "May I turn around now?"

Roman hummed,"Mmm yeah I guess, I think I'm done," he supposed, propping himself up to move from on top of Logan, but he felt Logan grab onto his wrist.

"No, stay there," Logan says, flipping himself over so he properly face Roman, putting them into the position where Roman had Logan pinned down underneath him.

Logan leaned forward, gently pressing his lips to Roman's lips, feeling their warm plump give that he loved. He felt himself push down into the sheets beneath them as Roman deepened the kiss, sliding Logan's bottom lip between his own.

Roman softly carded his fingers through his boyfriend's hair, smiling into the kiss. He reluctantly pulled away, his throat burning for air. He burried his face into the crook of Logan's neck, relaxing as Logan's arms winded around him. "You're the best muse I've ever had."

"I highly doubt that, but thank you Dear."

[theothergueck]

Please oh god help me why did i ask myself what spr or af would look like if it was reanimated by a content farm like gametoons make it stop

i can already Imagine a Goofy thumbnail of an emo which is supposed to be a human 1x transforming into the void with the title being "the origin of 1x1x1!!" GET OUTT GET OUUUUTTT

[iceman-kazansky]

Luckiest man, luckiest Woman

Pairings: Daniel Jackson (SPR) x F!reader

Requested by: @first-husband-lipton

Request: Okay because I really love Private Jackson (SPR) and he is Catholic AF... can I request a one-shot with him in a garden wedding seeing his bride for the first time as she walks down the aisle...and kiss her for the first time?

Settings/Au's: Wedding, relatively Modern

Warnings: f!reader, mentions of Christianity, two lovestruck fools, I've never written for a wedding or been to one so probably inaccurate depiction of a wedding, pure Fluff :)

Summary: You love Daniel and Daniel loves you, and you've decided to tie the knot in your relationship. Although, Walking down the Aisle, he realizes just how lucky he is to even be graced by a woman like you.

A/n: I BORE THROUGH THE COUGHING AND SNEEZING TO GET THIS FINISHED! I WAS DETERMINED TO FINISH IT >:D

Sorry I also kinda tweaked the request a little 😅 And, after writing this, I realized just how inexperienced I am in WEDDINGS. I've realized now I've never been to one and never had one myself :0

So uh, Google helped me write this quite a bit.

------

The day he had been waiting for was finally here. The day he; Daniel Jackson could claim you as his legally wedded wife. Daniel had picked a few best buds from his hometown to be his groomsmen, each had played an important role in his life to be deemed with such honor.

One by one, family members and close friends filed in and Daniel watched as his friends who served in the military alongside him were seated close to the front rows.

As the audience waited, the small chatter filling the air like the pleasant hum of insects on a hot summer night, Daniel couldn’t help but remember the first time he’d seen you. He’d gawked at you from across the street, where he had seen you laughing with your friends. His friends noticed —the same friends that stood behind him now —and had played a game of matchmaker. They had arranged for you two to meet again and officially talk. As embarrassing as it was, Daniel had been glad that his friends had gone out of their ways to tie you two together. Without it, He wouldn't be standing underneath the green foliage framed with ivory wood beams and the warm sunlight basking his back as he waited for the love of his life to arrive.

Finally, as the last car pulled into the parking lot, the wedding was ready to begin. Daniel watched as you moved forwards towards the aisle, and he could feel his jaw drop. The elegant white dress you wore was stunning, the silky fabric with a long train that flowed along the stone pathway that Daniel could only imagine to be the most refined fashion for women there could be, hugged you tightly and highlighted your curves in every right way. Daniel could feel his heart race at the sight of you, still as pretty as the first time you met, walking down the aisle. He could only imagine how God had somehow poured a little more love over you when he was creating the beauty walking towards him, and he thanked God for blessing him with such an amazing woman he would be sure to treasure if she said yes one more time.

Daniel was so entranced that he hardly recognized the priest had begun talking beside him, holding a large book open in one palm while reading out intricate verses. The priest finished and moved onto the vows,

"Do you, Daniel Jackson, take Y/n Y/l/n to be your wife?"

Without hesitation Daniel replied, "Yes"

"And do you, Y/n Y/l/n take Daniel Jackson to be your husband?"

"Yes." You answered.

Daniel felt your hands slip into his and he squeezed them lightly. He was Really doing this. He was settling down hopefully forever with you. He was 'tying the knot.' And all Daniel wanted to do right now was kiss you, in thanks, in love, in appreciation, in confession, and the priests "You may kiss the bride." Was all he needed to capture your perfect lips in his in an endearing kiss.

And as he reminisced over the first time he had kissed you, atop the ferris wheel at the carnival a few years ago, how your lips had been so soft and had treated beyond what Daniel could've interpreted back then, he couldn't help but compare today's kiss and the first kiss all those years ago.

"I love you." He heard you whisper, just above the cheering of the crowd below.

"I love you, too."

Daniel Jackson was the luckiest man alive, he got to have you, a woman he believed was beautiful enough to be considered a God. And You? You were the luckiest Woman to be alive because you had just tied the knot with the most handsome, and kind man you had ever met that you had totally fallen for the moment you saw him, walking with his friends on the opposite side of the road.

[raeseddon]

Ghost Hunt Project Update

So far I've summarized the main points I want to focus on for the first three books, as outlined here:

Book One:

Each novel builds on the social price of being a "weird" kid growing up in a collectivist society. We're first introduced to Mai, who's interested in weird things in a way that that doesn't push the boundaries of her society. When eerie things begin to happen in the old school, she sees first hand in her classmate who *does* push those boundaries what that social price is: gossip that will stay with her forever, and affect her life forever, as high school experiences are clung to, far, far into adulthood. High school is the last time kids are considered kids, free of the pressures of oncoming adulthood (which is bullshit, as seen by how gossiped about and isolated Mai's classmate becomes.

Book Two:

The second book hones in on how events that push the credulity of a collectivist society effect an individual family. Mai initially makes the same assumption about what happened in her first encounter with the supernatural at her school because it no longer pushes that incredulity as much as it did before she met Naru and the others. As with the family, she's hoping for an answer to what's happening that won't upset their place in the community. The most affected character in the book is far, far younger than Mai and the others, which ups the stakes of the events affecting her life from a much younger age. Mai also gets to know the other adults much better, and her powers begin to assert themselves, beginning her journey towards Otherness.

Book Three:

Back in a school setting, Mai once again finds herself facing directly the consequences of nonconformity, as a young adult, getting closer and closer to true adulthood-- a point in her life that she's expected to drop any "childish" belief. The hitch this time is that there's an adult in the mix who clearly struggles with surviving life as a weird adult, and takes that out on SPR's client, Kasai, a genuine psycho-kineticist. The adults in SPR are incredibly split on whether Kasai is the victim or the villain, which reveals much of the baggage they still hold from surviving being a weird kid and making it to adulthood. As Mai sees how seemingly easy it is for psychic ability to destroy a person and make them willing to destroy another's life, she hopes she *doesn't* have those powers-- but she does, and her journey to Otherness is now officially on its way.

This is it so far-- as I'm using the books only, there won't be anything on the Christmas episode or the ghost in the park episode. Forbidden Past-time will be the most meaty book as far as making my primary point that surviving being a weird kid is more worth it than anyone could ever imagines it would be-- especially when right before Mai's powers are confirmed, she sees one of the worst case scenarios for becoming not just a weird, but a creepy, bitter, manipulative adult.

Miss Ubusuna is such a skin-ceawlingly disgusting character, and to counterpoint her with Naru (and Gene, before he shuffled off the mortal coil) (who were kept near-entirely out of the public eye) and Mai, who's only just discovering that otherness and clearly fears it, was such a fantastic writing decision on Ono's part. Even before the readers know Naru's true identity, he sympathizes with Ubusuna to a surprising degree, though cannot justify her near-murder of her work colleagues and the unbearly cruel ways she screwed with Kasai's head.

Getting through Forbidden Past-time will take forever because with Yasu we finally get into queer otherness and Ono's most scathing indictment of the Japanese school system to date. What happens when someone doesn't survive being a weird kid? What happens when, unlike Ubsuna, they do take the step to end their life?

[iamindebt]

Wiscara and Aristris relationship in spr is that kind of "sibling rivalry" trope, its not a bad trope by any means if done well.

Unfortunately, pretty much everything in spr is poorly executed.

I dont even know if there was a canon reason for Aristris taking the scissors

My hc was always "aristris salty af" but like when you thinm about it

Imagine your sister being on a first name basis with GOD, like any acomplishments you could ever hope to make would seem a hell of a lot smaller to anything your sister could do

But if you were a villain, you could be known by more people, no matter how awful those achivments are (maybe thats why Aristris is happy when talking abt tretone in the final battle)

I will be the first to admit that this was prolly the shinttiest thing wiscaras done (in my opinion) like he didnt even try to harm you, kidnap you sure, but the only two things that can kill you is the smarmy lake, windmill things (both are out of his mansion) and lava carpet; which by the way Aristris HIMSELF genuinely dosent seem to notice (could just be him being dumb though lol)

Like the guy seems to have taken a pretty big blow to the ego (and hip)

And when the CUMULI start liking your sister over YOU, thats just more salt in the wound.

hes like me fr /j

I always thought this was him trying to scrape together the last of his dignity tbh

Not much to say about this tbh, i just feel bad for the guy like- hes a dingus and id hate to be his friend irl but like honestly????

Couldnt have put it better myself, random robloxian.

BUT IM NOT HERE TO JUST COMPLAIN OK

I tried to badly rewrite the whole "sibling rivalry thing

After chapter 5 and Aristris leaves, instead of the dialouge looping, you could talk to wiscara for this bit of dialouge

"I hope aristris isnt TOO upset with me yknow? Maybe i should check up on him when i have time..."

Not much, but would hint to the player to check on Aristris AND show that Wiscara does care about her brother