#essence musings

[anto-pops]

The Mirror's Heartfelt Reflection - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: In the wake of helping Sylus deal with a few Wanderers terrorizing the N109 Zone, you find yourself neck deep in self-loathing. It isn’t his fault you’re insecure about your lackluster abilities, and it definitely isn’t his fault that you’re so hard on yourself. But he still takes it upon himself to prove just how incredible you really are, and when all is said and done, you find yourself forced to accept that maybe- just maybe- he's telling the truth.

Alternatively summarized as Sylus reverently worshiping you in front of a mirror with his fingers, then with his mouth, then with his... y'know...

Word Count: 15k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, self-esteem issues, body worship in front of a mirror, size difference, overstimulation

Full fic is now up on Ao3 here (with more diverse tags, as per usual)

It almost seemed cliche for the N109 Zone’s weather to always be dreary, but evidently rain, fog, and more rain was the norm for the danger riddled region. The steady pattering of water hitting the ground was all you could hear as you trudged through puddles towards Sylus’ house in the no-hunt zone, your fists clenched at your side as you did your best to will away your indignant anger. The crime lord of Onychinus was somewhere behind you, likely still bleeding from using himself as a human shield on your behalf, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at present. 

After all, it had been his great idea to step in front of the Deluge Wyrmlord earlier. 

Sure, Sylus might be hard to kill. He might even be immortal, but that didn’t mean he was immune to pain. Yet for some unfathomable reason, he had opted to take the tail swipe the Wrymlord had aimed at you, leaving you to watch on in horror as his shirt was torn to shreds and an array of lesions and bruises alike blossomed across his chest. He had taken the hit without so much as a grimace, much to his credit, but you had fought the remainder of the fight riddled with frustration and fury. 

In short, you were pissed. 

The gargantuan mansion swam into sight through the unrelenting downpour, and you doubled your pace at the same time you heard Sylus’ even footsteps getting closer to you. You didn’t want to talk to him– you didn’t want to talk to anyone. The emotions that gnawed at your stomach were borne of insecurities that you didn’t want to face right now, and with that somber thought in mind, your main priority was taking a hot shower to fend off a potential cold from taking root. 

With more force than was probably necessary, you shouldered the front doors of the house open, not bothering to look behind you when you heard the massive slabs of wood slam against the wall and groan on their hinges. Something moved in the sitting room to your left, and you saw Luke and Kieran jump up into defensive stances before relaxing slightly at the sight of you. 

“Jeez, what’s going on?” Kieran asked incredulously, his hands hovering inches away from his hip where you knew his weapon was hidden. “Where’s Boss?”

On cue, Sylus crossed the threshold of the doorway, made evident by the way the twins looked behind you in unison. Luke spoke up this time, his tone laced with obvious concern as well as surprise. “Holy… what happened? Where’s the Wanderer?” 

“Dead,” Sylus stated nonchalantly. You stopped in your tracks, halfway to the hallway leading towards the guest room, and turned to finally gauge the source of your irritation. 

He was covered in blood, but the deep gashes you’d seen on him earlier had long since been healed by his Evol. You couldn’t see any bruises beneath the frayed tethers of his shirt– just dirt that streaked down his skin due to the rain. His hair was dripping water onto his shoulders and down his cheeks, but aside from all the superficial damage, Sylus was well and truly fine. 

That only served to anger you further. 

The silver haired man turned his ruby red eyes on you, his scrutinizing gaze laced with curiosity as he silently tried to figure out what had led to you storming away from him in the wake of defeating the Wanderer. You pursed your lips and jerked your chin up in a stubborn act of defiance, keeping your expression icy as you met his unwavering stare. 

“Did something else happen out there?” Luke asked cautiously, joining his twin and his boss in staring at you from across the room. The airy laugh that slipped from Sylus was devoid of any humor, and he shook his head in disbelief as he traced his fingers over the massive tear in his button up. 

“Aside from the Wanderer trying to use its tail as a battering ram, no. Although one might think Miss Hunter over there wanted to have her ribs caved in, what with how much hissing she did after the fact.” 

Your blood thrummed in your ears as you began to shake with obvious rage. “I was not hissing. You were completely careless jumping in front of me like that. You’re always doing those sorts of things– why?” 

“Because I can handle it, sweetie.” His matter-of-fact tone did little to quell your vexation, and the way Luke and Kieran both seemed to look away in embarrassment didn’t help matters, either. Having this discussion in front of them was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. Besides, it wasn’t their fault you were angry. If you were being honest, it wasn’t even Sylus’ fault that you were so upset either. 

No, the person you were the most disappointed with was yourself. 

You threw your hands in the air, exasperated with the situation as a whole, and turned around to continue on to your assigned bedroom. “Fine, whatever. Keep using yourself as canon fodder, see if I care.”

“Where are you going?” Sylus called after you, sounding more tired than he had moments prior. “There’s still two more Wanderers near the eastern border that need killing, kitten.”

“I’m going to shower,” you retorted sharply. 

“A little rain and you want to call it quits? I thought you agreed to help me with this–” 

Almost to your room, you shouted down the hall, “The Wanderers will still be there when the rain stops. Go change your shirt or something while you wait and leave me alone.” 

The resounding slam of the guest room door echoing down the corridor spelled the end of the conversation. You didn’t stop to listen through the walls to see what else Sylus and the twins were discussing, instead heading straight for the bathroom and cranking the shower knob to the highest setting. The cold, soggy clothes that stuck to your skin were peeled away swiftly and left on the floor before you stepped under the scalding water to begin scrubbing, your own mind tormenting you all the while. 

The loudest thoughts that seemed to reiterate themselves over and over again were the ones that had been hounding you for as long as you could remember. 

You’re a liability. You’re weak. You’ll always need protection. 

Even the rush of water cascading down your head couldn’t drown them out. 

—

“Again.”

Although Kieran had his mask on, you could practically see the disbelief on his face through his posture alone. His shoulders sagged, and the kickboxing pad he had clutched in his white knuckled grip dropped to the floor in exasperation. “We’ve been at it for hours. How many more times do you plan on doing this? My arm is going to fall off pretty soon.” 

“Again,” you repeated sternly as you wiggled your fingers, the dull ache in your knuckles barely noticeable through the wraps that protected your fists. “If you want to take a break, give the pad to Luke.” 

The twin in question immediately swiveled away from the weapon stand in the corner, raising his hands in front of himself as though to ward you away from him. “No way,” he said tightly. “You already missed the pad and kicked me in the ribs twice. I’m done being your sparring dummy.” 

Kieran threw his free arm up before letting himself fall backwards onto the floor of the sparring ring. The other arm he still had looped through the back of the boxing pad fell beside him with a heavy thud, and you sighed with obvious frustration as you stood straight and planted your hands on your hips. Sweat dripped down your temples and soaked through the loose workout clothes you had on, but you hardly paid it any mind as you glanced around the room for an inanimate object to use for training. Evidently the twins were a lost cause, and you didn’t feel like tracking Sylus down to ask him to practice with you. 

In truth, you were kind of avoiding him. 

After your outburst earlier in the morning, he had disappeared from the house entirely. You’d emerged from the guest room freshly showered and ready to head back out to finish dealing with the Wanderers, but upon entering the living room, you had found only Luke and Kieran. They had been annoyingly tight lipped about where their boss had run off to, but had assured you that he would be back in a few hours. Four hours had passed since then, and since you hadn’t particularly felt like trudging through the rain in search of him, you’d decided to make use of the twin terrors and work on your hand-to-hand in a bid to feel less… useless. 

You hated that you even thought of yourself in such a way, but it was a hard habit to break. Your Evol couldn’t serve you by itself in a fight, and unless you were fighting alongside someone with an offensive Evol of their own, all you had was your martial training. Anytime Sylus or any of your other companions accompanied you on your hunts, all you could do was resonate with them to empower… well, them. You felt like a glorified battery half the time– charging them up while you stood in the backline with your measly pistols. 

You knew it was unreasonable to feel that way. You knew you could stand on your own two feet and be a threat on the battlefield regardless of your Evol. Hell, you had been selected to join the Hunter’s Association Alpha Team immediately after graduating. That had to count for something. 

And yet, it wasn’t enough. 

Another agitated sigh slipped through your teeth as your fingers flexed of their own accord. Kieran was still an unmoving lump on the floor, and Luke warily went back to polishing the collection of blades propped up on the weapon stand. Neither one of them could be persuaded– you were already acutely aware of their stubbornness– so you fixed your eyes on the punching bag strung up from the rafters. It wasn’t sentient, and it couldn’t hit back, but it was as good a target as any for your internal turmoil. 

Just as you were about to duck through the ropes that surrounded the sparring ring, Sylus’ gravelly voice drifted through the dimly lit workout room, halting you in your tracks and drawing the immediate attention of the twins. “Don’t tell me you broke my henchmen,” he teased, his crimson eyes taking in the sight of Kieran sprawled across the floor with blatant amusement. “I know you’re supposed to do your reps until failure, but he looks half dead already.” 

“He’s lazy,” you muttered as Kieran threw aside the kickboxing pad, pushing himself to his feet as quick as his shaky limbs would allow. “They both are. Like fat house cats, content to nap all day.” 

“Excuse me?” Luke chimed in, his hands perching on his hips indignantly. “Say that to my bruised ribs, you tyrant. Why don’t you take your vendetta out on someone who can actually keep up.” 

His pale finger pointed straight at Sylus, who was still leaning leisurely against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets. He looked remarkably better than he had when you’d last seen him; no cuts or blood, no bruises, and no torn clothing. His simple black button up was tucked into matching black trousers, and his hair was once again effortlessly styled without a strand out of place. He looked more inclined to attend a business meeting rather than spar with you, but despite that fact, Sylus surprised you by shrugging and striding towards you, already rolling the cuffs of his sleeves up to his elbows. 

“You don’t have to,” you started to say, jerking your thumb over your shoulder towards the punching bag you’d decided on using. “I was going to make use of the other equipment–”

“Living targets make for much better practice, and I can promise you that I won’t tap out like a… what was the term? A fat house cat?” 

Luke and Kieran both scoffed and shook their heads simultaneously, mirroring one another so perfectly that it unnerved you. Kieran swung his legs over the nylon ropes of the ring and landed next to Luke, the two falling into step easily before heading for the door without another word to you or their boss. A tiny, barely there part of you wanted for them to stay to eliminate any awkwardness between you and your newfound partner, but the unspoken challenge in Sylus’ eyes quelled the words before you could utter them. 

The silver haired man hoisted himself up over the ropes effortlessly, bending down to snatch up the abandoned kicking pad from the floor before tossing it haphazardly over the edge of the ring. He waited until Luke and Kieran’s footsteps had disappeared completely from within the hallway before he spoke. “Think you can walk and talk, kitten?” 

Narrowing your eyes at him, you messed with the wraps on your fists before assuming your usual fighting stance. Shuffling your feet apart, you tested your balance as you murmured, “Why do we have to talk? There’s nothing to say.” 

A hint of a smirk pulled at the corners of Sylus’ mouth as he copied your movements, distancing his feet a healthy distance apart and dipping his chin below his raised fists. “I beg to differ. We could talk about your little temper tantrum earlier, or about how you’re being uncharacteristically snappy with Luke and Kieran. We could even talk about the weather if you’d like– it stopped raining, by the way.” 

You said nothing, instead grinding your molars together hard enough that your jaw ached. With Sylus too busy talking, you seized your opportunity and swung your leg out in a wide arc, narrowly missing his head when he smoothly dodged the blow with a wicked grin etched across his face. 

“I see, I see…” he taunted, glancing down obviously enough that you knew he was going to try sweeping your feet out from under you. Sure enough, Sylus dropped into a feline crouch, throwing his leg out as he pivoted himself around on his other foot in a dangerously fast circle. You jumped backwards– avoiding his outstretched limb completely– then dove back in for an immediate counter-attack. He was already standing when your fist connected with his palm, his massive fingers curling over your pathetically small hand as he threw you to the side painlessly, chuckling to himself all the while. Your blood thrummed in your ears, humiliation burning your cheeks from how easily he fended you off. Condescendingly, Sylus mused, “This is all because I jumped in front of you earlier, isn’t it?” 

“Stop talking,” came your disgruntled reply. Desperate to have one of your hits connect, you feinted left before darting back to the right, throwing out a jab-punch combo that grazed his neck at best and missed entirely at worst. 

After humorlessly avoiding your attacks, Sylus began moving, drinking in the sight of you panting and flushed in the middle of the ring. He circled you like a predator corralling its prey, and through the flurry of emotions that wracked you, mortification seemed to be the most prominent. 

“Am I to understand,” he started gruffly, “that you wanted the Wanderer to kill you?” 

“Of course not–”

“Because that’s exactly what would have happened had I not stepped in. You’re upset because I saved you from an agonizing, bone-breaking end, and I have to be honest, kitten, it makes absolutely no sense to me.” 

“That’s not why I’m angry,” you barked at him, wanting nothing more than to lash out with your fists again. Even if the hits didn’t meet their mark, you needed to expel the humiliation that coursed through your veins. 

Suddenly, Sylus was in your face. His overwhelming presence surrounded you, his inquisitive eyes boring into yours as he tried to search your mind for the real reason you’d been so put out all day. Quick as a whip, you shoved against his chest and turned your head away in a bid to protect the dreary thoughts that had plagued you for the bulk of the day. 

“Talk to me,” he half-commanded, half-implored you. “Tell me what thoughts are whipping around through that head of yours.” 

You scowled, turning away from him completely as you strode to the other side of the sparring ring. Sylus followed you easily, unwilling to let you mope your way out of his interrogation, and he planted himself squarely behind you as you started to undo the wraps protecting your fists. “It doesn’t matter. It’s nothing new, anyways…” 

The dejected tone lacing your words didn’t escape Sylus in the slightest, and in the reflection of the mirror straight ahead, you saw his brows furrow at the same time his lips formed a straight line. “Sweetie, if it’s nothing new, that’s all the more reason to talk about it. I know I’m not great at playing the role of a therapist, but if whatever’s bothering you is this serious, I’d like to help.” 

A deep, relenting sigh escaped you at that moment. You unwound the wraps around your hands and let the bandages flutter to the floor listlessly before hesitantly turning back around to face the silver haired man. Sylus’ striking eyes were narrowed with concern, his expression conveying his worry for you plainly enough that you felt your heart trip over itself in your chest. He didn’t deserve to deal with the moodiness that came with your insecurities. Kieran and Luke didn’t, either. Even though it was embarrassing and disappointing to admit, you figured you could at the very least be honest about your diffidence. 

“You can’t help. That’s the thing. It’s– well, it’s stupid.” Sylus gazed at you expectantly, his eyes silently conveying that he would be the judge of that. Looking down at your feet, you forced the rest of the admission from your lips, even though it pained you to do so. “I just want to be able to protect myself. The same way you and all my friends can. I don’t want to have to rely on other people to defend me in a fight, but I don’t think that will ever be possible.” 

Sylus cocked his head to the side in confusion. “You do a pretty good job of defending yourself, kitten. You’ve come a long way since I found you kneeling all alone in the N109 Zone.” 

“It’s not that. I just…” For crying out loud, why was this so difficult? Maybe it had to do with Sylus quite literally being the strongest person you knew. Confessing your insecurities to the leader of Onychinus, the most wanted man in the world, wasn’t exactly child’s play in your mind. Still, you endeavored to try. “My martial training is all I’ve got. My Evol isn’t any good on its own. I can’t conjure fire or ice, I can’t manipulate gravity to lob boulders at enemies. I just… boost other people. I strengthen others, but on my own? I’m a liability.” 

Sylus crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back on his heel, tapping his fingers against his bicep thoughtfully. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t your ability incredibly rare? Anhausen Class Evols aren’t common. You’re actually quite valuable.” 

“Only if I’m fighting with someone who has an offensive ability,” you helpfully supplied, pointing at him for emphasis. “I don’t stand a chance against a Deluge Wyrmlord by myself. I have no choice but to rely on my partners for help. Even though I know it’s irrational and silly, I’ve always resented that. I just… I don't want to be weak.” 

Sylus took in your admission quietly, nodding to himself as his otherworldly eyes bored into yours. To say it left you feeling vulnerable was a monumental understatement. You felt raw. Laid bare before the one person you trusted most. It scared you to think he might think less of you for the revelation, even though deep down you knew Sylus would never judge you for it. 

Fidgeting uncomfortably, you bent down to snatch your wraps off the floor of the sparring ring, pausing before leaving as you tried to come up with what to say next. Sylus beat you to the punch, however, his gravelly voice drawing your attention back to him. “I know it’s subjective, but I’ve always thought you were a skilled fighter. Your Evol aside, you’re invaluable on the battlefield. Quick thinking and clever planning have gotten you far when we fight together. You aren’t a liability, sweetie, and you’re definitely not weak. I think you’re selling yourself short.” 

Your stomach lurched as you realized you’d heard similar placations in the past from your grandma. As worried as she had been when you’d passed your Hunter’s Exam, she was supportive of your career choice and had always done her best to encourage you. She had never wanted your heart condition to slow you down or influence your decision making, and you had convinced yourself a long time ago that she’d played a monumental role in you having made it this far. 

Unfortunately, self-doubt had been a nagging, longtime friend of yours. 

Flashing him a small but grateful smile, you nervously twirled your used wraps around your fingers before jerking your thumb over your shoulder towards the doorway. “Thanks. It’s not a big deal though, I’ll be fine. I’m, uh, going to go shower. Sorry for being a brat earlier, I’ll… I’ll work on the whole confidence thing later.” 

You were relieved that he didn’t stop you as you ducked under the ropes of the sparring ring. As grateful as you were about how he’d handled your admission, you needed some alone time to sift through your thoughts, and another piping hot shower was the perfect opportunity to do so. Reaching for the towel you’d left slung over the weapon rack in the corner, you tossed it over your shoulder and started to make your way to the exit, sneaking a quick glance at Sylus in one of the massive mirrors that lined the wall. 

He was still standing in the center of the ring, gazing straight ahead with a curious look playing on his features. It was an expression you’d seen many times before, usually when he was concocting a scheme of his in the spur of the moment. While part of you was appreciative of Sylus’ natural inclination to flock to your aid and try to make everything better for you, you sorely doubted that this would be one of those times. 

Unless you magically found a way to rid yourself of years worth of self-depricating introspection, you were convinced you would be stuck with these thoughts for the rest of your life. 

—

You had been reading for so long that you were certain your eyes were on the brink of falling out of your head. 

Having long since finished your shower, you’d taken to going over the datapad Sylus had given you the day prior. It was chock full of information on the Wanderers he had asked for help dispatching; where they were, previous reports of attacks linked back to them, their weaknesses. Most of the information was redundant. As a Hunter, you had intimate knowledge about the creatures and their habits. But following your uncomfortable confession earlier in the gym, you were curious as to whether or not it would be possible to handle killing the damn things by yourself. 

Not that you were going to try. You weren’t that stupid. Just… wondering. 

So far, the answer was no. It was suicide to go up against Wanderers of this calibre without an offensive Evol. That, or a good old fashioned, coordinated aerial strike. 

You had neither of those things. 

Sighing in annoyance, you set the datapad on your lap and shoved the heels of your palms into your eyes, rubbing hard enough to see shapes. It had been a couple of hours since you’d last seen Sylus, and you felt bad that your moping had gotten in the way of finishing the job he had brought you along for. There were two more Wanderers that needed killing; an Ignitus Wyrmlord and a Luminivore. Both were high ranking threats, so you doubted that the Onychinus leader would have gone out on his own to deal with them. 

But maybe he had. Maybe he had been staring off into space as you’d left the gym because he’d realized that you were right, and he was better off handling the creatures by himself. He wasn’t the type to wait for approval, much less your own, so the possibility wasn’t too outlandish to consider. 

You were hurting your own feelings thinking as much, though. 

With a muffled thump, you slapped your hands down on the bed and tossed your head back against the pillows. Maybe you needed therapy. Your dejected thoughts weren’t getting you anywhere, and they weren’t going to change anything. At the end of the day, you were who you were, and everyone else was… who they were. You brought plenty of value to the Hunter’s Association just by being yourself. Wishing to be stronger, faster, and more powerful wouldn’t make it happen. Those were traits acquired through hard work, dedication, and pure chance. 

Not by lying in bed reading. 

Just as you were about to shove the datapad off your lap to jump up from the bed, a knock sounded at the door. You nearly tripped over your duffel bag on your way to undo the lock, but once you yanked it open, you were surprised to find Luke on the other side. Or was it Kieran? Sometimes it felt like you were guessing who was who. 

“Sorry to bother you.” Ah, it was Kieran. “Boss asked me to send you up to him. He wants to talk with you.” 

Your brows furrowed and your eyes narrowed, immediately suspicious of the crime lord’s intentions. He had never sent for you before. “Okay…” the lone word was drawn out, your hesitation evident in your tone. “Where is he?” 

It was impossible to tell what kind of expression Kieran wore behind his mask, but his shoulders did stiffen a little in response to the question. He was as uncomfortable with the situation as you were. “He’s in his room. He didn’t seem mad, but I can honestly never tell with him. Good luck.” 

As suddenly as he arrived, he was gone. Literally. You blinked and Kieran had just vanished. He and his brother were as odd as they came, but you steeled your nerves and did your best not to seem rattled as you exited the guest room and padded your way towards the staircase. 

The last time you had stayed with Sylus, he had set you up in a different room on the second floor that was now home to a slew of antique weaponry that had yet to be unboxed. You didn’t mind the room change, but you were beginning to think Sylus had a shopping addiction. Sure, he had the money and never batted an eye at the exorbitant price tags attached to the items. But he never even used half of the things he bought. He really was like a crow. Or maybe a dragon was a better analogy, since he had a tendency to hoard everything he acquired from antique shows and business deals. 

It didn’t take long for you to reach the double doors leading to the master bedroom. The ornate entryway stood tall and forebodingly at the end of the hallway, illuminated by the dim lights that lined the walls. You rapped your knuckles against the dark wood softly, only deigning to let yourself in once you had confirmation from the owner of the chamber. 

“It’s open,” came Sylus’ silk-like voice from the other side. 

Tentatively, you pushed open the door and stuck your head through the crack, unsure of what to find waiting for you. It turned out to be nothing more than Sylus looking over a stack of papers, hunched over the desk in the corner with a clear glass of amber liquid pinched between his long fingers. Perplexed, you slipped inside all the way and shut the door behind you, watching and waiting for the silver haired man to acknowledge your presence. 

There were a few beats of silence as he reorganized the paperwork with one hand before finally turning to face you, bringing his drink to his lips as he did so. It was strange to see him drinking when there were still Wanderers lurking in the N109 Zone. You would have guessed he’d called for you so the two of you could finish the work you had started earlier in the day. Unless…

“Did you deal with the Wanderers already?” 

The only show of surprise on Sylus’ face was the elegant lift of his brow, and he acknowledged your tense posture near the door with a subtle dip of his chin. “You’re really worried about being deemed unnecessary, aren’t you?” 

It was a slap in the face to have the truth so boldly thrown back at you, but the truth did have a tendency to hurt. You nervously clasped your hands together in front of you, wringing your fingers together as your gaze swept across the room. “You disappeared for a while today. Then we never went back out to kill the other two Wanderers… I thought maybe you’d taken care of it yourself.” 

“Then you would be wrong, kitten.” Turning back to the desk, Sylus fluidly beckoned you towards him with one simple curl of his finger. You had half a mind to be stubborn about it, but with how you were feeling right now, you decided to just be obedient. Shuffling over to him, Sylus plucked the piece of paper at the top of the stack back up and held it out to you, watching you over the rim of his glass as he took yet another sip of his drink. 

“What is this?” You didn’t need to ask, as it turned out– you recognized the logo adorning the page instantly. It was a copy of the Hunter’s Association exam records. More specifically, your exam records. How the hell had Sylus gotten his hands on them? Your eyes roved up and down the parchment as you took in the familiar marks, then looked back at the crime lord expectantly. “Why do you have these?”

Tapping the side of his temple closest to his eye, he mused, “I have my ways. But I felt inclined to show you, because I found something interesting about your records.” 

He balanced his forearm on your shoulder as he pointed at the paper you held, and the smoky cologne he wore flooded your senses instantaneously. “Right here,” he pointed to the column on the far right of the page, “are all the divisions that exist within the Association. Scores that are high enough in each section open doorways into possible careers with the agency. Am I right?” 

You nodded. The scoring method allowed for everyone that took the test to have a high likelihood of getting a job, even if it was a lower level position. Only a select few individuals scored high enough to qualify for upper division roles, which was one of the main reasons why the Alpha Team was so small. Quality over quantity, Jenna had told you. 

Sylus continued on, sweeping his finger all the way down the page to where your scores were recorded. “You, my dear, sweet Hunter, managed to pass in every single category. There wasn’t one division you didn’t qualify for. You went straight to the top of the podium because they knew your worth, but to meet the requirements for all of it? That’s nothing to turn your nose up at.” 

Sylus’ motives were all beginning to make sense now. He had said it himself earlier; he wasn’t a therapist, but this was clearly his attempt at making you feel better about your self-critical thoughts. It was… nice of him. Really nice. Moreover, it was news to you. You had hardly looked at your exam results once you’d heard you had been selected to join UNICORNS, because that was all you had ever wanted. But to hear that you had passed with flying colors? Well…

“That doesn’t seem possible,” you muttered, flipping over the page to keep reading. 

Sylus chuckled under his breath and took another sip of his drink before setting the glass down on the desk. “It’s possible. I have it on good authority that it’s happened a few times in the past, but only a few. You could count on one hand the number of times a brainiac was admitted into the Hunter’s Association in the last five years.”

The paper in your hands went limp as you craned your neck to the side to stare up at him, a slew of emotions racing through your mind and imbuing you with the desire to understand. You wanted to grasp the why, more than anything. Why was Sylus going out of his way to make you feel better? Why did he care so much? Why, why, why? 

He seemed to understand the unspoken question based on your expression alone. The arm he had perched on your shoulder slid away, and he gently took the paper out of your hands and waved it tellingly beside his head. “You’re a far cry from a liability, sweetie. Just because your Evol works well with others doesn’t mean you bring nothing to the table, and believe me when I say that I’ll keep reminding you every chance I get.” 

That burning, one word question finally escaped you, sounding airy and uncomfortably meek as it was whispered between the two of you. “Why?”

Something shifted in the air then. A level of bone-deep understanding, of yearning, of unfathomable craving, sparked to life in Sylus’ eyes, and the sight had your breath catching and your lips parting. The leader of Onychinus tilted his head to the side as he took in every detail of your face, one lone strand of his silvery hair falling into his field of view, but it hardly deterred him from drinking in the sight of you before him. The corner of his mouth quirked up into a sly smirk, and he set the parchment back down on the table while maintaining eye contact with you all the while. 

“Because you’re worth the effort,” he evenly proclaimed. 

You damn near broke into tears. 

“Sylus…” you didn’t know what to say– what to do. It was unbelievably soft, the way he said the statement. Gentle and thoughtful and full of intention. He meant every word, and it wasn’t until he’d uttered the statement that you realized just how much you had needed to hear it. 

Taking note of your turmoil, Sylus swiftly captured your hand in his and began guiding you deeper into the room. You followed him dumbly, primarily because you were still processing the utter devotion you had seen glimmering in his ruby red eyes. When the two of you stopped, he released your hand and moved to stand behind you, placing one hand on your shoulder while the other gingerly clasped the underside of your jaw and angled your head straight ahead. “What do you see?” 

It took you a moment to realize that he had positioned you in front of a full length mirror propped up against the wall beside his bed. In the reflection, you could see his luminescent eyes peering at you from over your shoulder, the stark difference in your heights made all the more obvious with how the glass cut off the top portion of his head. Beyond that, though, you weren’t entirely sure what you were meant to be looking for. 

“You’re very tall,” you mumbled obtusely. That earned a throaty chuckle from the man behind you, and you watched as he shook his head to himself. 

“Not me, kitten. You. What do you see when you look at yourself?” 

Swallowing thickly, you forced yourself to cater to his line of questioning. Your eyes zeroed in on yourself, scanning your own image from head to toe as you took in every last detail of your appearance. Your hair had dried by now and looked to be rather frizzy, and your nostrils flared as you drew in a deep, steadying breath. Your breasts rose and fell in response to the action, and your toes dug into the carpet on the floor as you tensed nervously. This felt like a test that you were quickly failing, and the thought made you anxious. All in all, you had no clue what part of yourself to focus on. You were just… you. A woman unsure of herself with quite possibly the world’s most confident man standing behind you. 

The irony of that fact didn’t escape you. 

“I don’t know,” you muttered under your breath, and Sylus withdrew his hand from your jaw and trailed the appendage to grasp your other shoulder. “I just see me. Messy hair, pretty eyes, shorter than you.” 

Sylus smirked at you in the reflection, his hands dancing away from your shoulders to skim their way down to your biceps. “Do you want to know what I see?” 

Yes. No. Maybe? Your lips pursed, and you looked at him with a timid sort of anticipation. 

“I see a strong, capable woman,” he emphasized the statement with a subtle squeeze of your arms, drawing your attention to the toned muscle hiding beneath your t-shirt. “I see someone who’s put her entire heart and soul into bettering herself, both physically and mentally. I see a woman who pushes herself to improve constantly, even if she’s already doing a great job to begin with.”

His fingers slid under your arms to trail along your ribs, ghosting one of his hands up your torso to place his palm over your quickening heart. If he heard your breathing stutter, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he bent down and nestled his chin in the crook of your neck from over your shoulder, murmuring his next words directly against your ear. “I see a talented Hunter who refuses to let her heart condition interfere with her goals. She remains headstrong, dutiful, and loyal to a fault, no matter the circumstances.” 

The muscles in your stomach flexed instinctively as Sylus dragged his hands sensually down your front, placing them over one another to allow for him to pull you flush against him. Your body reacted of its own accord, flushing hot at the close proximity and making you acutely aware of every dip and curve of the larger man’s body. Unconsciously licking your lips, your eyes flicked back to his in the mirror, your mouth slightly parted around shallow breaths. “I see a resilient human with a mildly concerning, seemingly bottomless appetite, but who somehow always goes out of her way to share her snacks. I think her love language might be gift giving, but it’s hard to tell. She’s got wit that’s so sharp that I’m convinced it’s a weapon in and of itself. She’s compassionate, caring, and annoyingly selfless.” 

“Sylus–”

“Ah,” he squeezed you tighter to him, silencing your objection before it could be fully expelled. “I’m not finished, kitten.”

Maybe not, but you were coiled tighter than a spring. You genuinely didn’t know how much more of his hedonistic touching and breathily whispered sweet-nothings you could take. A salacious sort of desire was flooding your veins, compelling you to turn around and act on your urges, but Sylus’ ironclad hold prevented you from doing so. He smiled smugly as though he was aware of your internal thoughts, nestling his chin deeper into the crook of your neck while his hands traversed lower, encroaching dangerously upon your nether region. 

“To get superficial, she’s unbelievably beautiful. She gets this certain look on her face when she’s really concentrated, and her nose tends to scrunch up like a cat hissing when she’s angry. Watching her fight is one of the most satisfying things on this planet. She’s fluid, graceful, and can drive home a killer roundhouse kick.” 

Ever so gently, Sylus turned his head so he could press his lips against your thundering pulse point, delivering a passionate but equally chaste kiss against your skin that made your eyelids flutter and your knees buckle. You were suddenly immensely grateful that he was holding you upright against him. He murmured huskily against your throat, “She might kill me if she hears this, but I love to watch her walk away from me. Her hips sway in this hypnotic way that drives me crazy, and she’s got these perfect legs on her that I love to imagine hanging over my shoulders.” 

Fuck.

When Sylus looked at you in the mirror through his lashes, you swore up and down that he was channeling some transcendent sex demon from another world. He looked carnal. Wholly and unequivocally erotic. The hunger that shone in his eyes had heat pooling rapidly between your legs, and you found yourself unconsciously clenching your thighs together to ease the growing ache there– a move that did not escape Sylus’ attention in the slightest. 

You could see the smile in his eyes as he toyed coyly with the hem of your pants, tracing his long, dexterous fingers along the elastic band and dipping the tips of his digits between the fabric and your skin. It was maddening– absolutely torturous– and all of it left you wanting more. 

More of his praise, more of his touch, more of his attention. More of Sylus. You had never felt so seen and desired in your entire life. Part of you didn’t even care if it was all lip service. You would gladly choose to believe Sylus’ pretty lies if it meant he would keep the veiled duplicity coming. The way he held you, touched you, spoke to you, commanded a feeling within your body that was addicting, and you desperately wanted more of it. 

Sylus broke your sinful train of thought with a lewd motion of his own; he boldly slipped his fingers under your waistband, tugging the material down your hips testingly but only daring to expose the outline of one of your hip bones. A shiver rolled down your spine as he caressed the uncovered bit of skin with his thumb, watching you like a predator from over your shoulder with unrestrained appetite. 

When you twitched your hips up a little to spur him onwards, he hesitated. You met his inquisitive gaze in the mirror once again, your flushed, riled appearance a stark contrast to his controlled, put together one. “Sylus,” you whispered breathily. “Please?” 

Ever the gentleman, Sylus obliged you with a throaty chuckle. He sensually dragged his fingers to the other side of your pants, tugging the attire lower and revealing inch after inch of your soft flesh. His long arms gave him the reach necessary to push the clothing all the way past your thighs, and it pooled in a disheveled heap around your feet with a barely there noise. Your underwear went next, and the anticipatory breaths you sucked down were the only sound that filled the otherwise quiet room. 

Bare from the waist down, your eyes flicked between your own body and Sylus, who seemed to be eating you alive with his lust-riddled gaze. He snuck one hand under your shirt, just below your breasts, as the other situated itself under your navel, and he held your gaze as he turned to take your earlobe between his teeth. The delicate feeling of his teeth clamping over it was entirely too delectable to admit, but you showed your approval in the form of a tiny, raspy moan. 

Releasing your lobe, Sylus pressed his lips against your ear, whispering seductively against you, “Now what do you see?” 

You watched helplessly as your face flushed an impressive shade of crimson, spreading down your neck and disappearing beneath the neckline of your shirt. The hand Sylus had hidden under there crept higher– skimming between your breasts as though seeking out the warmth that radiated there. Wide-eyed, nervous, and incredibly self-conscious, you struggled to bite out, “Me.” 

“I’ll tell you what; if you can be more specific, I’ll up the reward factor. How’s that sound?” 

You were positive you were going to die of embarrassment. Your mind was slow to process that this was actually happening– that Sylus had you held tight to him, his hands just inches away from two of your most intimate areas. How you had gone from being frustrated with him this morning to putty in his hands now was a mystery to you. What you did know for certain was that you wanted more of what he was offering. A lot more, if you were being honest with yourself. 

“I see you holding me,” came your shaky description. “With my pants around my ankles.” 

Humming his approval, Sylus began to move his hands to where you craved them. His fingers scraped along the light dusting of hair below your navel, sneaking ever-so-close to the wetness gathering between your legs. The other moved to cup one of your breasts, the pads of his fingers flicking over your hardening nipple and drawing an unsteady gasp from you. “Tell me what I’m doing, kitten. Be as precise as you can.” 

Silver hair flashed in your peripheral vision as Sylus ducked his head to mouth wetly under your ear, peppering a collection of noisy kisses along the slender column of your throat. At the same time he brought his mouth into play, his hands upped the ante; he simultaneously began rolling the peak of your breast between his fingers as the other, lower appendage started to explore between your folds, sliding easily through the slick that gathered there. The feeling was almost enough to keep you from answering him, but then you remembered his bargain. 

“You’re touching me. Kissing my neck. You’re playing with… with my breasts, and your hand is–” a strangled sound slipped past your lips as Sylus pressed the pad of his fingers to your clit, causing your legs to give out for a split second. “S-Shit…” 

Acting as your steadfast anchor, Sylus held you tighter to him as he backed up a few steps, sitting down on the edge of the bed with you firmly balanced on his lap. He made sure to keep you facing the mirror, much to your dismay, and he lifted his head from your neck to grin wickedly at you in the reflection. “Don’t stop now, kitten. You’re doing great…”

The attention he bestowed upon your bundle of nerves didn’t relent as he encouraged you, and your head fell back against his shoulder at the same time your hips bucked up into his touch. “I can’t, Sylus, I can’t–”  

“You poor thing,” he murmured against you, and you could feel his lips curl into a self-satisfied smile. “At least tell me how I’m making you feel.”

You weren’t sure if that was a better alternative or not, but you closed your eyes and let yourself focus wholly on the movements of his hands, relishing in the sensations that washed over your body in response. The fluttering ache in the pit of your stomach ebbed and flowed as Sylus pinched and tugged on your nipple, your toes curling as his long fingers danced around your clit and smoothly slid through your soaked slit. He teased the tips of his hand closer to your entrance, and your desire to feel him inside of you was overwhelming. 

“It feels good,” you managed to wheeze out through your teeth. “It feels really good– I feel hot.”

“Hot, huh? Should I stop and give you a chance to cool off?” 

The deviant behind you made a point to withdraw his fingers away from your wet heat, and you whimpered disapprovingly. You shook your head against his shoulder, cracking your eyes open to stare at him pleadingly in the mirror. “N-No, please– I want more. I want to feel you inside me. Please, Sylus?” 

Beneath the swell of your rear, you felt Sylus’ cock twitch against you, your begging evidently acting as his undoing. He tittered to himself shakily, the fingers that played with your nipple splaying to cup your entire breast, and the testing squeeze he gave the soft flesh had you melting against him even more. “I like the way you sound when you beg, kitten,” he rumbled, teasing his middle finger against your hole just enough to leave your hips trembling with barely contained want. “So well mannered, so polite.”

The praise left you boneless in his arms, amplified tenfold by the feeling of his digit pressing into you. You moaned fervently, your thighs instinctively sliding farther apart to give him more access. Your hands came to grip the forearm Sylus had wrapped around your waist, and you blearily watched as he buried his mouth into your neck again to sink his teeth into the junction of your throat, laving his tongue over the bite in-between his efforts to suck his mark into your skin. 

“Sylus…” you sighed, twitching your hips into his palm in a bid to derive friction against your clit. He catered to your attempts, pressing the heel of his hand against the bundle of nerves deliciously as he took to languidly pumping his finger into you. It was exactly what you’d been searching for, and he mindlessly squeezed your breast as you arched into him and let loose a deep, rumbling groan. 

Ruby red eyes met your half-lidded ones in the mirror as he broke away from your neck, the love-bite he’d left behind glowing bright against your skin. Venereal hunger emanated from him, his lips parting ever-so-slightly as he took in the sight of you falling apart on his lap. The blatant passion he gazed at you with was enough to make your head spin, your eyes fluttering shut once again. It was one thing to let yourself be overcome with such profuse pleasure, but it was a whole other thing to watch it be bestowed upon you. It was a level of intimacy you had never considered– never imagined– and you couldn’t decide if you found the entire display erotic or embarrassing. 

Maybe it was a little bit of both. A lot of both, actually. 

The hand that cupped your breast slid down your torso to escape the confines of your shirt, reappearing under your jaw to allow for Sylus to angle your head exactly where he wanted it. Your eyes snapped back open at the feeling, watching mutedly as he pumped his finger deeper into you and roughly ground his palm against your clit. Your breathing hitched around a strangled croak, and a sinful smile split Sylus’ face. 

“Look at how pretty you are, kitten,” he whispered against your ear. It shouldn’t have been anatomically possible, but the flush that decorated your face darkened immeasurably. “Spread wide for me, taking my finger like it’s nothing. Do you want more?” 

You nodded, Sylus’ hand following the movement since his fingers were still gripped snug beneath your jaw. 

“I need you to say it. Use your words, sweetie. I know you can do it.” 

“I… want more,” you said huskily. “I want more, Sylus. P-Please?” 

“Good girl,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your shoulder, red eyes glued to yours all the while. He watched you rapaciously as he eased out his middle finger, then returned with his index finger added alongside. There was mercifully no teasing to be found as Sylus pressed both of the digits into your soaked, eager hole, the stretch taking nothing more than half a second to get used to. The hitched, keening noise that escaped you reverberated off the walls of the bedroom, and your eyelids fluttered as you struggled to keep your eyes open and focused on Sylus. “So tight, kitten… does it feel good?” 

You nodded brainlessly, digging your nails into the skin of Sylus’ forearm as he angled the tips of his fingers up. “Y-Yes, yes,” you whimpered, left with no choice but to watch your reflection in the mirror as Sylus worked to undo you. 

The heady flush that stretched across your skin coupled with your messy, undone hair had you looking positively wrecked already. Wrinkles covered the shirt you still wore, and through the material, you could see your pert nipples jutting against the fabric. Sylus still looked remarkably put together, but there was a telling flush growing across his own cheeks that clued you in on how affected he was beginning to get. That, and you could feel his growing erection pressed up against your backside. 

With what little movement you could muster, you shifted your hips in his lap to press down hard against his cock, and the instant result was by far the most gratifying thing you’d ever seen. Sylus’ head fell against your shoulder, a guttural moan sounding from deep within his chest, and the hand he had wrapped snug around your jaw tightened enough that your next breath was stolen from you. Those plush lips of his parted around a shaky exhale, and the fingers he had stuffed inside of you tensed. When he looked back to meet your awaiting stare in the mirror, you flashed him a coy smirk that ignited a spark of mischievousness in his eyes. 

“You… you’re a daring little minx, you know that?” 

Before you could respond, Sylus recovered in record time and increased the tempo of his fingers, pumping them faster and curling them dexterously within you as though the insistent pressing would reveal something to him. You had no clue what he was aiming for, but the quicker pace had his palm rubbing insanely good against your clit, and a fire seemed to catch in your veins. 

“F-Fuck, Sylus–” your babbling was cut short by the hand around your jaw tightening again, your back molding to Sylus’ chest as he guided your head back to rest against his shoulder. You panted shallowly as he worked his wrist harder, plunging the digits deeper into you, until eventually a sharp pang of arousal shot through you. “Fu– ah!”

Your body tensed against him, and Sylus groaned in abject satisfaction, pressing the side of his cheek against yours as he quickened his pace and aimed for that same spot again and again and again. It was insane– it felt staggeringly intense– enough so that you found it hard to breathe through the waves of ecstasy that crashed over you. The larger man continued to fuck you with his fingers until you began to writhe in his arms, your muscles trembling and your chest heaving with uncontrolled panting. The wet sound of his palm rubbing against your swollen clit filled the air, accompanying the strangled sounds of your labored breathing. 

Sylus panted hot and heavy against your jaw, watching eagerly as your climax reached its boiling point in the pit of your stomach. “You’re close, aren’t you, kitten? I can feel it… do you want to come?” 

Your voice was shrill and desperate as you sobbed, “Yes!” 

“I want you to look,” he implored you, working you so close to the edge that you were prepared to do anything he wanted if it meant he would carry you over the teetering brink. “Look at yourself– watch how perfectly you come on my fingers, kitten. Show me that pretty expression.” 

Words were beyond you at this point– you were a shaky, noisy, needy mess in Sylus’ arms, the metaphorical cord in your gut wrought tighter than a wire. Still, you obeyed his request, lifting your limp neck off his shoulder to gaze into the mirror straight ahead, and it was the sight of Sylus watching you ravenously that finally sent you careening into the abyss. 

You came with a hoarse cry of Sylus’ name, tightening impossibly around his fingers as your hands flew to dig into the sides of his legs beneath you. Your vision flashed white and your ears rang as he continued to fuck you open, thrusting his fingers harder and rubbing that one spot that left you gasping and choking on nonsensical pleas. The wetness that slid down your thighs and dampened Sylus’ lap barely registered to you– not until your body finally went lax against him and you proceeded to shake violently. He stifled a moan of his own as your weight settled directly on his throbbing, neglected cock, but he paid it no mind as he slowed the pace of his fingers and continued to work you through your orgasm until you were nothing but a twitching, whining mess in his arms. 

It took a while for you to approach anything resembling a functional human. Eventually, the feeling of Sylus withdrawing his fingers and peppering soft kisses along your neck roused you from your post-coital state, and you cracked your eyes open to find him staring fondly at you from over your shoulder. 

“Beautiful,” he murmured against your heated skin. “So gorgeous. I love the sounds you make.” 

The amount of sweetness that Sylus exuded was quickly approaching unnatural. Especially because you could feel how hard he was beneath you, and thus far, he had made no move to relieve himself in any way, shape, or form. It couldn’t be comfortable, but his attention had been unwaveringly fixed on you from the moment you’d entered his room. 

“Sylus…” you breathed his name gently, shifting your hips a little so you applied added friction to his cock. He grunted in response, his eyes pinching together slightly as he stared warily at you in the mirror. “What about you?” 

“This isn’t about me, kitten,” he rumbled, sliding his hand away from your jaw and trailing the appendage down to splay atop your thundering heart. “I wanted to do something for you. Trust me, getting to watch you fall apart on my lap was plenty fulfilling.” 

While you didn’t doubt that he’d derived some sort of second hand enjoyment from fingering you, you had reservations about the fulfilling part of his statement. Nothing about his twitching, throbbing cock seemed ”fulfilled” to you, and now that you had gotten a taste of what Sylus had to offer, you found yourself wanting more. 

Much, much more. 

“I…” your voice trailed off as you struggled to find the right words. Sylus watched you intently all the while, his fiery gaze making you shiver. “What if I want it to be about you?” 

His brow rose a fraction of an inch, his shaft throbbing tellingly beneath you. His hands traversed your pliant body reverently, coming to rest on your hips so his fingers could ghost along your jutted hip bones suggestively. “I wouldn’t let it be about me, sweetie. But if it’s what you want, then I’d be thrilled to oblige.” 

Without giving yourself time to question whether it would be overstepping, you mustered up the strength to angle your body sideways so you could face Sylus fully, not in the reflection of the mirror. The smile he gave you once you turned around was lofty and full of male pride, but you really didn’t care how pleased with himself he was. If he wanted to keep things all about you, then you would gladly be selfish. 

When you leaned in to kiss him, it was delicate. Exploratory and testing. You wanted to gauge just how much you could get away with before Sylus drew a line in the sand. If he drew a line in the sand. It was obvious just how much he was affected by you physically, but in the event there was something he didn’t like or wouldn’t be interested in, you wanted to give him the chance to make it clear to you. 

As it turned out, kissing wasn’t something he had an issue with. 

One of his hands rose from your waist to the back of your neck, holding you fast to his incredibly soft mouth as an approving moan sounded from deep in his chest. Your tentative pace was replaced almost instantly with a more urgent one as Sylus leaned into the kiss, parting your lips with his tongue so he could sweep the inside of your mouth with the muscle. The hand on your hip tightened, and the one on your neck curled into a loose fist as he gathered a handful of your hair in his grip. The cautionary kiss you had instigated quickly turned into one of passion driven forward by Sylus, and your heart soared with satisfaction. 

Every minute sound that left you was swallowed up greedily by Sylus. He wasn’t kissing you so much as he was devouring you. The restraint he had practiced earlier had officially manifested into a voracious, insatiable version of the man you knew, and you went weak in the knees when it dawned on you that it was all for you. 

“Tell me to stop now, kitten,” Sylus panted roughly against your lips, having finally withdrawn to catch his breath. Your lust-dark eyes were pinned to him as he let go of your hair to brush a few stray strands out of your face, then cupped the side of your cheek to return your intense gaze. “Because if you don’t, I won’t ask again. I won’t be able to later.” 

Your breasts rose and fell in quick succession as you sucked down greedy breaths. Placing your own hand over his, you bit your lip and shook your head timidly, whispering softly, “I don’t want you to stop.” 

Something halfway between a sigh and a growl came from Sylus then. His eyes darkened as his pupils dilated, their usual crimson hue replaced almost entirely by black. His fingers twitched against your cheek, and your stomach lurched with arousal as he licked his lips eagerly. 

In one swift motion, he rose to his feet with you held fast in his arms, then turned around to roughly deposit you in his original spot on the bed. The speed with which he moved spoke volumes of his excitement, and you matched his pace by immediately reaching for the hem of your shirt. He aided you in hurriedly yanking the material over your head, your breasts bouncing as you threw the attire to the floor and scooted closer to the center of the bed. Sylus watched as you situated yourself against the pillows, his hands moving in quick succession over the buttons holding his own shirt together. The row of clasps parted to reveal creamy, toned muscle underneath, and you found your mouth watering in anticipation as he shed the fabric over his toned shoulders and moved on to his pants. 

As soon as your eyes settled on the outline of his cock in his briefs, you knew you were in for it. He was huge. Even through his undergarments, he looked strikingly thick and equally as long, a pronounced wet spot evident near the head. The crime lord drank in your expression with glazed over eyes, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he teased the tips of his fingers between the waistband and his hips. 

“Scared, kitten?” 

You didn’t miss a beat, “That’s not normal.” 

Sylus let out a sharp bark of laughter, his eyes glimmering with amusement. “Remind me again what about me strikes you as normal.” When you opened your mouth to respond, then snapped it shut with an audible crack of teeth, he smiled. “We’ll go slow, don’t worry. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” 

After being so heavily spoiled by him and finding yourself craving more, the absolute last thing you wanted to do was take things slow. You wanted him inside of you now– your still-soaked center throbbing with blatant need. You wanted Sylus to take you by your hips and drive his cock into you fast and hard and leave you a drooling, lust-drunk mess. You wanted more of his praise, more of his attention, more of his scorching touch and intoxicating kisses. 

You wanted it all. But you were willing to be patient if that was what he felt you needed. 

Chewing the inside of your cheek nervously, you nodded up at him. His eyes crinkled at their corners as he started to slide his briefs down his toned legs, revealing inch after inch of his insane member until it was fully freed and arching proudly against his taut stomach. Gravity seemed to be struggling to drag the thick appendage down, and your eyes went wider than saucers as you silently questioned just how the hell he would fit inside of you. 

You would be lying if you said you weren’t eager to find out, though. 

Sylus somehow managed to make tossing underwear over his shoulder look graceful, and you blinked at him in awe as he knelt on the mattress and began crawling towards you. Instinctively, you spread your legs apart to make room, expecting for him to situate himself between your thighs to jump right into what you’d been looking forward to. He took you by surprise, however, when he looped his arms under your knees and yanked you down the pillows closer to him, ignoring your yelp of alarm as he settled onto his stomach and tossed your legs over his shoulders, his face mere inches away from your sopping wet center. 

You started to object, “What are you–” 

“I told you earlier, didn’t I?” He fixed you with a sultry look that had your mouth drying up instantly, and you audibly gulped. “I said I’ve always wondered what your legs would look like hanging over my shoulders. Let a man indulge a little, sweetheart.” 

The tips of his fingers ghosted lightly over the tops of your thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as he exhaled against your folds. You shivered at the deferential way he seemed to look up at you, his sharp, angular features conveying a degree of tenderness that made your heart lurch. As quick it appeared, though, it vanished– replaced by an unquenchable zeal that had your breath hitching and your muscles tensing. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the animalistic way Sylus sealed his mouth over you, however. There was no warning before he dragged the flat of his tongue up your slit, taking exceptional care to circle your still-sensitive bundle of nerves in spite of your writhing. Your body jerked of its own accord, your stomach flexing as you unconsciously shifted your hips in some vain attempt to escape the onslaught of overstimulating pleasure the man bestowed upon you– all for naught. Sylus tightened his arms around your legs to hold you still, groaning with delight as your spine bowed off the mattress and in turn forced more of you on his tongue. 

“S-Sylus, shit–” you gasped breathlessly, your hands gathering up and yanking at fistfuls of the satin sheets that adorned the bed. Your eyes rolled back into your skull when you felt Sylus probe at your entrance with his tongue, and you mewled pitifully when he plunged the soft, wet muscle into your equally wet center. “God, Sylus–”

You heard and felt him chuckle against you, his otherworldly eyes fluttering open to stare up at you as you crumbled in his arms. His hands curled tighter around your thighs, holding you in place with a sort of casual ease that spoke volumes of his innate strength, and he waited for you to meet his gaze before he brazenly tilted his head forward to rub his nose against your clit. 

The shrill cry that tore from you echoed off the walls, and your hands flew to his hair before you could stop yourself. If the feeling of your nails scraping against his scalp was unpleasant, he didn’t show it. Instead, Sylus continued his never-ending assault against your soaked core with unabashed vigor, his sporadic groans accompanying the wet, sordid sounds he made with his mouth. 

There was no way you were going to survive. It was too much. Your nerve endings were scorched beyond capacity, and the blazing inferno that burned in your gut threatened to melt you from the inside out. First his hands, and now his mouth? Was there any part of him that didn’t possess such… talent? 

The irrelevant thought was banished from your mind as Sylus decided to focus his efforts on your clit once again, sucking the swollen nub into his mouth and laving his tongue over it incessantly. 

He was trying to kill you. 

Digging your heels into his back, you tugged at his hair harder and lolled your head from side to side, struggling to form a coherent sentence to warn him that you were close. Sylus angled his head so that he could watch you come undone beneath him, his eyes taking on a heady, bewitching quality that had you thinking he could see into the depths of your very soul. Almost hesitantly, he pulled away from your brutalized center, reaching over your thigh so he could replace his mouth with his thumb as he said, “One more time, kitten. Let me see you come again. You’re being so good– just one more time for me.” 

Fuck.

It wasn’t like you could say no, much less stop yourself from careening over the edge for the second time. Especially not when Sylus’ mouth dove back on your clit, licking maddeningly over the nub as though he were a starved animal. You spasmed against the sheets, a raspy cry ripping from your throat as you climaxed again, blind and mute to the world as your legs clamped down on either side of Sylus’ head. The crime lord didn’t seem to care in the slightest. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the feeling immensely, a gruff moan resonating from his chest and reverberating against your puffy, overstimulated center. 

When your body finally sagged into the mattress, Sylus was still lapping up the evidence of your arousal with persevering gusto. You were beyond words at this point, your tongue serving as nothing more than a lead weight in your mouth, so all you were able to do was shove weakly at his head in your attempts to get him to stop. 

Thankfully the man still retained a sense of mercy, because he pulled away swiftly and immediately began stroking your legs comfortingly, his red eyes boring into yours as he licked the remnants of your pleasure from his lips. You were certain you had never seen such a depraved sight in your life, and a feeble whimper slithered its way from your sore throat. 

“I knew it,” Sylus mused thoughtfully, breaking the thick silence that permeated the air. Still struggling to work your vocal chords, you furrowed your brows at him questioningly. “You taste sweet. I had a hunch, and you proved me right.” 

If anymore blood pooled in your cheeks, you were sure your head would explode. 

“And your legs are just as perfect as I thought they’d be,” he gently slid your boneless limbs off of his shoulders, sitting up just enough to give himself the range he needed to move over you fully. Crimson eyes scanned you hungrily as he asked, “Think you can wrap them around my waist, or are you too far gone?” 

In the throes of ecstasy, you had forgotten that Sylus wasn’t tormenting you with his mouth for nothing. He was preparing you. The thought of experiencing more didn’t scare you as much as it excited you, and you wordlessly lifted your knees off the bed in response, doing your best to keep them steady as they trembled against your will. 

The way you obediently waited for Sylus seemed to be his breaking point, because all of his prior restraint vanished in an instant as he gripped your knees and held them steady, helping you so that you could hook your quivering ankles around his waist. Once he let go, he moved to capture one of your hands in his, taking care to place a chaste, tender kiss to your knuckles before intertwining his fingers with yours and pinning the limb to the bed above your head. You panted and wiggled closer to him, shivering when you felt the thick head of his cock fall heavy against the sparse collection of hair below your navel, and then you watched through your lashes as Sylus lined himself up with your wet, waiting heat. 

He stopped himself a moment before he pressed in, leaning down to kiss you softly– delicately– then rested his forehead against yours to stare unblinkingly into your eyes. “Last chance, kitten. You’re sure about this?” 

Despite your spent state beneath him, you huffed out a laugh and smiled warmly. “I thought you said you weren’t going to ask again.” 

He gave you a lopsided shrug, then smirked and squeezed your hand tighter in his larger one. “I guess I’m just full of surprises.” 

Without thinking, you closed the miniscule distance between the two of you and kissed him again, your unrestrained hand curling around the back of his neck to hold his mouth securely to yours. Sylus returned the action with equal fervor, inhaling sharply when he felt your hips wiggle tellingly against his throbbing manhood. Breaking away just enough to murmur breathlessly against his lips, you said, “I’m sure.”

With a quick, parting peck to your kiss-swollen mouth, Sylus kept his eyes glued to yours as he slowly began to press home. The initial breach was jarring, even with how wet and pliant you were in the wake of his preparation. The tip of his cock entered you incredibly slowly, your nails digging into the back of his neck as you willed your body to breathe through the momentary discomfort. Sylus halted his hips there to give you time to adjust, pressing his lips to yours again and tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours and letting loose a contented groan. The kiss felt electric; so perfect, so slow, and so messy that you couldn’t help but welcome the wave of affection that washed over you for the Onychinus leader. 

There was no way you could be content with this remaining a one-time tryst. Not with the powerful emotions that swept through you in response to Sylus’ words and actions. He had effortlessly wormed his way so deep into your heart that you doubted you would ever be able to rid yourself of your sentiments. Even before now, he had gone out of his way to cater to your every desire, helping you with anything you asked and looking out for you when you didn’t. Today had only solidified the feelings you had felt for a long, long time, and you didn’t want to give that up. You wouldn’t give that up. 

“Sylus,” you breathed in-between kisses. “Sylus, I like you. I like you a lot.” 

He chuckled against your mouth and drew back slightly, just enough to get a good look at your flushed, timid expression. “I like you a lot too, kitten. I always have and I always will.” 

The way he said the declaration hit you with the force of a train. It was as though a lifetime of devotion had been unearthed with those few words, and a deep, profound attachment settled hot and heavy in your chest. You loved this man. You loved Sylus, and part of you felt like you had loved him for lifetimes. 

Words weren’t enough to convey what you wanted to say, so you settled for sliding your hand away from his neck to splay your fingers over his sternum, his heartbeat thundering wildly beneath your palm. A shiver worked its way over him, his free hand coming to cover yours as his muscles rippled with restraint, and then he exhaled loudly. That was the only cue you needed to spur him onwards, encouraging him to pick up where he had left off. 

You nudged his lower back with your heels, then groaned softly when he started to press more of himself into you. This time there was no discomfort. Only a slick, easy slide that left the two of you gasping one another’s names into the humid air. Once he was fully sheathed within your heated, pulsing walls, you found yourself nearly breathless. His cock twitched eagerly inside of you as he gave you yet another moment to gather your bearings, somehow managing to keep his composure, which was more than could be said for you. 

Your mind was fucking blown. Sex was one thing, but this was sex with Sylus. The same ruthless, calculating crime lord that turned his enemies into mist and brought his rivals to their knees with a thought. The same man who commanded attention and respect just by walking into a room. The same man who withstood bullet wounds and Wanderer attacks like they were nothing more than irritating bug bites. That was the same man holding your hands now, being so strikingly gentle and waiting so incredibly patiently for you to adjust to the perfect, thick cock that filled you up so deep and so good. 

When you finally relaxed and stopped clenching your thighs around Sylus’ waist, he removed your hand from his chest and intertwined your fingers with his, then pinned the appendage above your head to mirror your other arm. Being so close to your face again allowed for him to begin trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, pausing at the junction of your shoulder to suck lightly at the salty skin there. “Tell me when, kitten,” he muttered roughly, his own need evident in the gravelly tone of his voice. “You’re running the show here.” 

You angled your head to the side to give Sylus better access to your throat, and he nipped playfully at your collarbone before drawing back enough to glance at you. You had to look a special brand of fucked up, because Sylus let loose a groan laced with blatant yearning, and his hips twitched forward slightly. 

As if the sheer width and length of his cock wasn’t enough, you could feel every mouthwatering vein that pulsed along his shaft. The subtle drag through your innermost walls had you arching suddenly– that one spot he had previously assaulted with his fingers now being wholly enveloped by his length. “Yes,” you gasped, digging your nails into the backs of his hands. “M-Move. Feels insane…”

Sylus chuckled under his breath, withdrawing his hips cautiously before pushing back in faster. It was still a tentative pace, but unmistakably swifter than before. The feeling of his cock sliding past that magic place inside of you had you gasping around a keening moan, and your head flew back in response to the sensations that washed over you. 

Bliss, euphoria, ecstasy. Whatever it was, it was addictive, and you wanted more. 

Sylus didn’t need to ask. Your body language was enough for him to go off as he worked to set a steady rhythm, pumping his hips languidly as his hands tightened almost painfully around yours. Your breathing quickly became labored as the head of his cock reached deep inside of you, seemingly punching the air from your lungs every time he bottomed out. Needy, desperate noises fell from your lips, and when your eyes snapped back to ruby red ones, you found Sylus watching you with rapt focus, unwilling to look away for fear of missing the way your lips parted with each, assessing thrust. 

When your heels dug into the small of his back again, he exhaled roughly and dropped his head closer to yours. “Think you can take more, sweetie?” 

You nodded brainlessly, so drunk on the feelings he was giving you that you would have agreed to anything. The fact that you did actually want more just so happened to be a happy coincidence. 

Sylus grunted and wedged his knees further beneath you, giving him the support and leverage he needed to draw his hips back again before spearing his cock into you harder, the force from the action causing you to cry out with unrestrained rapture. It hit so deep, the slight angle change allowing for him to reach so unbelievably far inside of you that it felt like he was stirring up your very insides. 

From that point on, things shifted from testing and exploratory to frantic and ravenous. Having been given the green light, Sylus pumped his hips into you with unleashed vigor, the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin reaching your ears as your mouth fell open. You were moaning, wheezing, gasping, and crying Sylus’ name over and over again, your mind going blank in lieu of his cock effectively muddling your brain’s ability to think. All you could do was take it with your legs hooked around him and your hands pinned by your head, entirely at his mercy as he worked the tip of his shaft past that pleasure inducing spot within you. 

The sound of Sylus groaning your name pulled you back down to the present, and your eyes cracked open to find silver strands of hair falling into his face as his head hung heavy between his shoulders. “You feel incredible, sweetie. So good, so wet. You’re a work of fucking art.” 

“S-Sylus,” your hands flexed in his hold weakly, your legs quaking from the effort it took to keep them wrapped around his narrow waist. Between the unrelenting slam of his hips against your ass and the mounting pressure building in the pit of your stomach, your body felt like it was being pulled in a million different directions. You were fairly certain drool spilled from the corners of your mouth as you senselessly babbled, “Sy– fuck– c-can’t, I can’t–”

Sylus picked up on your struggle and quickly readjusted your positions; he released your hands to coax your legs off of his hips, guiding the boneless limbs down to the mattress before coiling his fingers under your knees. You were utterly indisposed as he hoisted one leg up and draped it over his shoulder yet again, then pushed the other one far to the side to spread you wide open while simultaneously giving you the reprieve you had desperately needed. 

The newfound angle, in turn, served to drive you higher than you had thought possible. 

When Sylus reared his hips back to continue hammering his cock into you, you found that his thrusts had transformed from deep to cervix-kissing. Your spine arched clean off the bed as you threw your head back and wailed Sylus’ name, your hands clawing at the sheets so violently that your nails caught on some of the threads and tore them apart. Sylus was growling above you, his rough, panted breaths punctuated by his equally rough thrusts, and his eyes squeezed shut as he pressed his lips to the inside of your knee over his shoulder, biting and sucking at your skin hard enough that you knew it would bruise. 

His control was slipping, though. Through the overwhelming ecstasy that threatened to boil over within your core, you could feel as Sylus’ pace began to falter. The snapping of his hips became more erratic, his teeth clamped down harder on your leg, and the fingers he had dug into your thigh spasmed as he fought his release with everything in him. If you could get your tongue to function, you would ask him what the hell he was waiting for. 

But then he cracked those luminescent eyes of his open again, letting go of the leg you had stretched out on the bed so he could reach between your thighs. 

“Come on,” Sylus implored you, his fingers rubbing relentless little circles against your swollen clit. “Come on, kitten. One more time for me. Let me feel you come on my cock– come for me.” 

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

The shaky groans that rumbled through you quickly turned into shrill cries of Sylus’ name as you came, your hands tearing vehemently at the satin sheets as your walls clamped down on his cock. Through the ear splitting ringing that echoed around your skull, you managed to make out the sound of Sylus groaning your name loudly, the feeling of his fingers digging into your thigh registering alongside the wavering pumping of his hips. His quick, pounding pace quickly deteriorated into something sloppier, more irregular, until he buried himself deep inside of you for the last time, then proceeded to shake. 

For what seemed like an eternity, the two of you lay there gasping for breath. Sylus’ grip on your leg was still ironclad, and every muscle in your body continued to quiver sharply. The clouds in your mind refused to let you focus again, still blown away at the intensity of everything you had experienced in just one day. Sylus’ cock pulsed as the last of his spend emptied into you, and you were still so unbelievably sensitive that every tiny twitch of his shaft had you jolting and shivering against him. 

Before long, Sylus gingerly slid your quivering leg off of his shoulder, taking exceptional care to set the limb down gently before he began the god-awful process of pulling out. Without him filling you up, you felt incredibly empty, and your lower half spasmed unconsciously when he finally left the warm, wet confines of your folds. 

“Fuck,” Sylus finally managed to speak, trailing his hand up your calf to tenderly ghost over the bright, purple-red blotch that he’d left on your leg. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” 

“Mmhng,” came your garbled response. The speech part of your brain was still struggling to turn back on. 

“Oh no,” Sylus drawled sarcastically, crawling closer so he could loop his arm under your back and haul you towards the headboard alongside him. “Don’t tell me I broke you, Miss Hunter. The Association will double my bounty if they find out.” 

You let Sylus manhandle you against his chest as he leaned back against the mountain of pillows, sighing softly when you felt his hand brush against your flushed cheeks. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you muttered, “I’ll make them triple it as punishment for the sarcasm.”

That earned you a chuckle from the crime lord, and he gazed down at you thoughtfully while he continued to smooth your hair out of your face. The fondness with which he stared at you was enough to bring a shy smile to your face, and you numbly wrapped your fingers around his wrist as you relished in the attention. “Ah, the tired kitten returns with her fangs bared. Triple the original price of my bounty is flattering, I’ll give you that much.” 

You hummed your agreement, doing your best to fight off the bone-deep fatigue that seemed to be sneaking up on you. Your whole body exuded an ache that felt strangely… nice. Compared to how sore you tended to get when you trained throughout the night, this was pleasant by comparison. The thought of training, however, had you thinking back to your earlier discussion with Sylus, and you pursed your lips as you contemplated whether or not to voice the burning question that reiterated itself over and over in your brain. 

“What are you thinking about that’s making you look so glum?” Sylus dexterously twirled his wrist out of your grip so he could intertwine your fingers with his again, and he pressed a warm, lingering kiss to your knuckles that made your heart swell with even more affection. “Do I need to put you in front of the mirror again?” 

“What you said earlier,” you muttered against his chest timidly. “Did you mean all of that?” 

“I would ask you which part you’re referring to, but that would be pointless since I meant everything I said tonight, kitten.” He moved your joined hands so they were held fast to his chest, directly over his heart. “I’ve always believed that it’s best to say what you mean and mean what you say. Lip service is pointless. And with you? I would never lie.” 

“So all that talk about me being a great fighter, being smart, cunning… you were telling the truth?” 

“Of course I was. Don’t forget the part about your legs,” he helpfully supplied, his red eyes narrowing with interest as they flicked down to the limbs in question. “Because they truly are incredibly perfect, sweetie.” 

You huffed out a dry laugh, lifting your conjoined hands to lightly thump against his sternum playfully. “You’re incorrigible.” 

In a flash, Sylus shifted so he was laying flat on his side with you wrapped snugly in his arms, the sudden change enough to pull a startled yelp from you. The familiar, red mist that accompanied his Evol manifested and enveloped the bed, pulling the covers over the two of you and cocooning you both in a silky haven that instantly amplified the fatigue you felt. You looked back at him from over your shoulder in time to watch as he nestled his chin into the crook of your neck, a radiant smile playing on his perfect face before he pressed a soft, sweet kiss against your lips. 

“And you’re exquisite,” he countered easily, tugging you closer against him so your back was flush to his chest. Once he had you situated how he wanted, he used his Evol to plunge the room into near darkness, the only source of light coming from the dim lanterns that flickered on his desk. “Get some sleep, kitten. Tomorrow we’ll head back out and deal with those Wanderers together. I’m eager to see you in action again.” 

As you nestled deeper into the cool pillows, you found your mind blissfully quiet and at ease. No rampant feelings of self-doubt plagued you, and the warmth from Sylus pressed up against you soothed your body and worked to lull you into a peaceful slumber. For the first time in a long time, ‘together’ actually sounded like something you could get used to. 

Especially if together meant you and Sylus.

[cxtoonzzz]

✨️IT GIRLS✨️

ALL 5 OF THEM SAW THIS I'M DECEASED

[majestativa]

When the eye is open, when you can read through the grimoire of the human heart.

— STANISLAS DE GUAITA ⚜️ La Muse Noire, (1883)

[chipper-smol]

What is the most bullshit measurement youve seen in a recipe i’ll start

Italian Herb Bread:

- other ingredients (herbs, cheese, olive oil, etc)

- 1 teaspoon onion powder

- 1 teaspoon garlic powder

.

.

.

- 6 cups of flour

[denalifoxx]

[bekolxeram]

I know Tim has a whole schtick about traditional TV formula and how its characters can't ever change, hence all of our mains, especially Buck, have been running on a metaphorical rotational device for small domesticated rodents and going through the same thing over and over again. How to avoid it all getting boring, frustrating and tedious after 8 years?

May I suggest learning from the Spanish language? May I devise the ser vs estar model?

I'll give you all the ser qualities. They stay firefighters no matter what, medical degree be damned. They can even be pretty much the same person as they were when they first appear, Buck impulsive hot head until the age of 90, sure.

But show me some evolutions in their estar qualities? Like emotions, let Henren's children be happy for more than 3 episodes? Conditions, maybe don't kidnap Maddie again? Actions, Buck should've learned not to act on his impulse by now. Or even... marital status?

Please? Por favor? S'il vous plaît? Si us plau?

[theweightofdivinity]

I don’t even know how to name what this is between us.

It’s not logical. It’s not physical. But god, it feels more real than most things I can touch.

[katya-zamos]

KIKI WITH TRIXIE [4/?]

[balkanlila]

the most touching and the most influential aspect of elena's writing is that she takes these people who exist as representatives of the universe, of something intergal to human nature, their lives not in any way original, their destinies shared with thousands and she makes sure, almost instinctively, that we as readers remember them by their specific names. how many people have taken their own life for the same reasons franco mari did? how many people suffered alfonso's faith in exchange for one second of owning their identities? how many girls didn't get to go to school the way lila did? but that doesn't concern elena, does it... those numbers... she thinks of lila and she sees lila and these people who have done nothing but repeat the past exist in this space, exactly as elena remembers them, exist and belong entirely to themselves... these people are gifted originality and importance simply because this woman remembers them... and that means something!!!!!!!!!!

[thisismylaststraw]

Love becomes grief Grief becomes poison And poison– …What does it do to an immortal? It becomes her.

[tsukiyadori]

Reading+Listening Log 2025.05 - May

Previous: Reading+Listening Log 2025.04 - April

Pretty shiny blue be pretty.

——————————————————————————

Reading languages: German, English, French, Japanese, not listing which was what. (There’s also been some continued music listening attempts at Chinese.)

Titles are as I’ve read them either first or most and thus remember it for that title mostly.

Not going to bother putting in the original titles of translated reads unless there is something worthy of note to it.

Bold titles means series completed, or it was a one-shot.

If it says a volume number, it may mean it has been finished or is still in progress.

Some notes’ content may be subject to repetition here and there, as I also copy some older notes from casual conversations over into these logs and don’t go through any rounds of cutting things down.

I will freely use some very lunatastic terms like cheese and fluff, you can find an explanation here: Luna-Lingo.

——————————————————————————

May

Very short list, but surprisingly that didn't mean the notes have gone that much shorter ...

I totally expected this to be a Tunnel to Summer month, but then I didn't even touch it this month for reasons that include that I probably didn't want to deal with the subject content for the time being.

There is a rare case of stray comic volume in there this month.

Western Comics:

Roxanne & George

Light Novels/Web Novels/Asian Novels:

A Certain Magical Index NT v3

Astrea Record: Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon? Tales of Heroes v2-3

Dahlia in Bloom v5

Madougushi Dahlia wa Utsumukanai v2p12-v3p6

Tearmoon Empire v4

Manga:

An Archdemon's Dilemma: How to Love Your Elf Bride (Manga) v12ch62

Catch my Heart

Dahlia lässt den Kopf nicht hängen ch40

Dahlia lässt den Kopf nicht hängen v7ch39

Dragon Love

Echt jetzt, Tamon?! v1-2ch9

Flüster mir ein Liebeslied v3-5

Friends & Lovers

Goodbye, Eri

Jenseits der Worte v2ch8-11

Kemutai Hanashi ch36

My Roommate is a Cat v9ch27

Nenn es nicht Mystery v4ch7

Nichiko's Island v1-2

Not a Boy v1-2

Number Call

Office Affairs

Regeln der Liebe

Rutta & Kodama v1ch5

See you in the School of the Muse v1ch3

Sugar Apple Fairy Tale v1-3

Tatsuki Fujimoto Short Stories: 17-21

Tatsuki Fujimoto Short Stories: 22-26

The Essence of Being a Muse v1-3

The Heroic Legend of Arslan v18ch112

The Male Bride v4-5

What did you eat yesterday? v22

Wild Rock

Wir! Jetzt! Hier!

Wonderland Love

éclair blanche

Webtoons:

Solo Leveling v1-3, 4(WT),v5-6, v11, WTch98-200

Solo Leveling: Ragnarok ch1-47 (Season 1 end)

Villain to Kill v2

Music/Music Videos:

Bold are what were more memorably stuck in my head.

Foster the People - Imagination

Foster the People - Helena Beat

Neovaii - Dusk - 02 - Breathe

LUNAX - Back to You

Neovaii - Secrets

Lou Bliss - Killing Butterflies

My Hero Academia World Heroes' Mission OST - 13 - Deku's Whereabouts

张渠 - 采薇

张渠 - 秀青独舞与女子群舞

YLL GRYM - daydream

YLL GRYM - Headless Thoughts 6x the Lost Project - happiness

Aosaki - tangible dynamics - 06 - broken wings (Instrumental)

DOUBLE DECKER! Doug & Kirill OST - 10 - Hayashi Yuuki - Zabel

DOUBLE DECKER! Doug & Kirill OST - 13 - Hayashi Yuuki -DOUBLE DECKER! (Pf Mix)

DOUBLE DECKER! Doug & Kirill OST - 04 - Hayashi Yuuki -DOUBLE DECKER! (Atmo Mix)

DOUBLE DECKER! Doug & Kirill OST - 36 - Hayashi Yuuki -DOUBLE DECKER! (Emo Mix)

BORN TO BE ON AIR! OST - 24 - Hayashi Yuuki - Don't lose

汪苏泷 - 无名之辈

Solo Leveling OST - 07 - [Solo-Leveling] SymphonicSuite-Lv.6

Solo Leveling OST - 09 - [Solo-Leveling] SymphonicSuite-Lv.8

Solo Leveling OST - 17 - aikari

Solo Leveling OST - 01 - DARK ARIA

Solo Leveling OST - 19 - 4eVR

Solo Leveling OST - 02 - [Solo-Leveling] SymphonicSuite-Lv.1

Solo Leveling OST - 06 - [Solo-Leveling] SymphonicSuite-Lv.5

Solo Leveling OST - 03 - [Solo-Leveling] SymphonicSuite-Lv.2

Solo Leveling OP - 01 - LEveL (feat.TOMORROW X TOGETHER)

Solo Leveling OP - 02 - DARK ARIA LV2 (feat.XAI)

Solo Leveling OP - 04 - LEveL -English ver.- (TV size) (feat.TOMORROW X TOGETHER)

To Be Hero X Insert Song - JEOPARDY

To Be Hero X Insert Song - PARAGON

To Be Hero X OP - INERTIA

Solo Leveling -Arise from the Shadow- OST - 01 - REVIVƎЯ

Solo Leveling -Arise from the Shadow- OST - 02 - SHADOWBORN

Solo Leveling -Arise from the Shadow- OST - 03 - H∅WL

Solo Leveling -Arise from the Shadow- OST - 04 - [Solo-Leveling]-Arise from the Shadow-Suite-Lv.1

Solo Leveling -Arise from the Shadow- OST - 06 - [Solo-Leveling]-Arise from the Shadow-Suite-Lv.3

Solo Leveling -Arise from the Shadow- OST - 12 - [Solo-Leveling]SymphonicSuite-Lv.8 (Ver.0)

SawanoHiroyuki[nZk] - bLACKbLUE - 19 - Twin Fates

Goddess of Victory Nikke Global Theme Song - Sawano Hiroyuki feat. Mizuki - TuNGSTeN

Solo Leveling - DARK ARIA ᐸLV2ᐳ (from SawanoHiroyuki [nZk] 10th Anniversary Studio Live)

Notes:

Astrea Record: Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon? Tales of Heroes v2-3: Finished it, and it was both surprising and entirely unsurprising in the end. It was pretty obvious soon that Alfia and Zald couldn't be anything but anti-heros secretly trying to level up everyone and anything, but that Erebus as that evil dark god was in cahoots with them trying to do the same was a bit of a surprise. Sure, those two couldn't possibly have lied to him, but I'd have guessed more that that they were mutually using each other and the god would simply have some fun and see what comes out of it as a sort of game, while the two would just be full of saltiness and be like that if the folks couldn't best them they may all just as well perish right then and there. But then, Danmachi has always been a deal about positivity and no hopelessly evil creature has ever been given that much time of the day, so probably it shouldn't have been anything out of the ordinary. The epilogue was a nice bow to the main story through. So Alfia is the aunt of Bell? In a way that connection is interesting with how it branches over to the past and makes everything a titbit of a long and winded history of the world, on the other hand, Bell just seems a bit to primed by destiny from the beginning to become grand. But maybe that, too, shouldn't be so surprising, if the grandness of one's fate is based on the quality of one's soul and the soul is something you have from birth. (Also apparently he is the reincarnation of some forgotten hero anyway, given that Memoria Freese Game?)

As for Lyu, well. Her resolve feels incredibly half-assed compared to what Bell does in less page count in an overwhelmingsly more boring arc, but then, this spin off ends before the whole Astrea Familia perishes and Lyu goes berserk, so it probably had to be half-assed at this point.

I do like Erebus take, on what justice is, that it's dreams and that in turn means heroes, which makes a nice arch over to the whole main ambition of the entire world about the world wanting and needing heroes.

Madougushi Dahlia wa Utsumukanai a.ka. Dahlia lässt den Kopf nicht hängen v2p12-v3p6: Starting with v3, I have to say, the series admittedly has lines where the writing gives me a few uhmmms, given all the many repetitions.

So like for example:

華やかな装いの客引きや、異国の長衣、紋様つきの衣装をまとった者もいて、なんとも華やかだ。

Literally: Among the passersby were people dressed in gorgeous attires or long robes from foreign countries in all sorts of patterns and fabrics. It was truly a gorgeous view.

As in like stuffs 華やか, so, aye, everything's so very 華やか in summary. @_@"

Same thing happens with なんともおいしい (very tasty/delicious), which I feel like is totally going on my hitlist soon. (Well, the food parts weren't that terrible yet so far, but I dread the oysters already.)

It also often goes to explain something in the narration (implicit to be a thought of the character), to only have the character speak it out loud in a conversation pretty much right after it once more.

But that's more of a minor observation. The actual content so far is, while slow, starting to hit bittersweet spots all over again. Those two being exhausted over the incessant guesses about if they are together or not. With Dahlia wistfully musing how nice it would have been if they had been siblings, for all the more time they could have spent with each other having fun in a brighter, more happy childhood and most of all that they wouldn't have to explain and justify their time together. There is also a whole deal about Dahlia just being gloom at facing the reality that most likely they will eventually be drifting apart, while being even more scared of the most probably only other alternative falling in love with Wolf.

それに、もし自分が勘違いをし、ヴォルフに恋い焦がれる日がきたら、そこでも終わる。

Moreover, if she were to make the mistake to fall in love with Wolf, everything would end then and there.

Like, there is something visceral about this passage. About her just being too aware of how things are in the world, and thinking the worst about the romantic route option.

The Manga interestingly has an change of that line:

If it were to be mistaken as love, then we couldn't spend time together anymore.

As for Ivano, he for his part seems to have been pretty much set for that Wolf got cheese-striken, but there is something nicely, really nicely inoffensive that he doesn't just assume it, but rather he just makes preparations for if they'd got down the route of marriage, he'd lay the groundwork for it to be possible, but it's still for them to decide. Other than that it's really nice how he's there to try Dahlia breaking out of her shell and propel her forward. It's not like Dahlia had an unhappy childhood, she was very loved and protected, but she is just getting so much more nurturing support now than in the past, and there is something pretty powerfully boisterous about it.

Tearmoon Empire v4: The narrator continues to have a bone to pick with Mia, but it's become more balanced; rather than kinda secretly hateful, but having to admit to her few core essential good points (which even more clearly are manifested in the dreams of characters having about previous timelines), they seem more resigned now. I suppose Esmeralda as the second handful would do that to you. Other than that I really do like, how some things are just peak accidental luck, almost arsed lucky coincidences and that being wonky and it being pretty self-aware of that. And it still feels earned, because it's not just plot convenience, as there appear to have been plenty of timelines to show for the cases where they didn't work out. What's more, and this kinda seems to not get a whole lot of mention: Mia's having quite the strong psyche actually. As in, yes, she has a few traumas about getting beheaded, but they are all adressed on she doesn't want it to happen again, rather than she's all that bugged about the past. Yes the narrator shoves it onto her ability to just have an empty brain, but the mere fact, that she was able to narrate her own dark fate in viscious detail sitting next to a campfire like its nothing is ... kind of a pretty big deal in terms of character strengh actually? Bel seems to have a similar trait as well with her always thanking people even in the darkest of times. I agree with Lynsha there, this is a most rare and impressive thing.

All in all, this series is just brimming with a sense of hopefulness and not giving in to the dark despair routes.

Goodbye, Eri: Ok, so we have a movie in a movie in a movie. By the cut followed by the explosion I was wth. By the second time, it turns to start feeling like a pattern about the deception of what was real or not.

So, this is my take on it: We learn the mother has been abusing him to make that movie of her dying, and he had some trouble taking it in, so eventually he ran, and the explosion just feels like a representation he'd like to incinerate. Nobody understands his feelings there. Then comes Eri around, we also eventually learn that she is dying, had a bossy and pretty bad character and effectively wants the same as his mother. (Despite ostensibly being a fan of his explosion ending.) He is shaken at first how could she request that movie from him, but the point is. He still made it. Not only that, but he delivered it in a way she wanted, removed from actual reality, leaving a mark in people's memory full of selective and manipulated memories. How much of this is trying to make up for the failure towards his mother? How much is there because his father possibly has pushed him to do that? (His father knew everything about his mother's abuse, but did not stand up for him. The mother's will stood above protecting his son, so even if his scene about him being sorry to MC was real, I don't think it likely he wouldn't still to right that failure in that first movie, by having it righted with Eri's. But doing that hadn't made the MC happy whatsoever as explained in the what comes after the second movie showing and him struggling and not being able to let go. And then his own family he created to distract him somewhat from the lingering pain that trauma has left him with. And when they are gone he's ready to just put an end to it and die, but then there's this whole vampire scene and the explosion ending yet again.

This may be a bit far fetch, but but I had the impression that Eri maybe got actually insane towards the end of her life. Fleed into a fantasy world of his creation, but what's more, the insane Eri ultimately wasn't at all pleased with his creation, even if it was essentially doing everything right that his mother or Eri herself had demanded from him from the first movie. This scene exists as a footage (and let's assume while is plenty capable of cutting things in and out and adding effects, he isn't good enough to make the scene completely from scratch, given the whole amateur-ness to the movie). So it really happened, either really, or as an act. But as an act this scene seems off, because it doesn't show up in the second movie, nor does it fall in line with its narrative they have discussed for it to have, why would Eri act like that? Maybe that was really her at the end, that was her way to escape the despair of death. And quite possibly that is now his way of dealing with his desolate reality. He says in the end that he now understands why he was never satisfied with the video. Combining it with the first movie, it's likely because all of it in the second is a complete lie, with nothing of his own, likely more so than the first, but most importantly neither himself nor even Eri were happy about it. But the first at least still had the explosion. So he goes for that. His dealing with his past trauma? Again, to incinerate it all inside the movie. (And making it all look cool.)

And so in this take I#d imagine that this character's real self probably is a complete wreck at this point. Because he's defaulting back to something he already knows hasn't helped him whatsoever in the past, so why would it now? Plus, there is also a slight vibe of he, at this point, understands Eri or this maybe insane Eri, who surrendered to despair. So if he survives it all without contemplating or executing on his suicidal thoughts, I'd imagine him to be some sort of living zombie going back and back to that explosion and relishing in incinerating all that has given him pain and grief in the past.

And that makes this piece a piece of horror to me.

Of course, I wouldn't know if my take is right or wrong, this piece is too ambiguous to allow such a thing.

But even if it's all fictional movie from beginning to end, I still think it's horror. Because then it would be about the coolness factor of the explosion and the indication of how incinerating it all is the power fantasy we all needed. (Which … I think might be even more likely the author's take on it, given how Chainsaw Man looks like.) And if that were the case, there is something about it that'd just give me the shivers, because it feels wrong.

(p.s. The MC's mother totally looks like a Makima from Chainsaw Man. Was that an early spoiler on her being a villain character?)

Nenn es nicht Mystery a.ka. Don't call it Mystery v4ch7: At this point it really feels like a pattern. The culprit is either a policeman, or someone "inside the system, you'd expect to be trustworthy." Also, I dunno, is it trying to set up some ship for the readers? Like the guy declares he'd never fallen for anyone, regardless what gender, but that one amateur artist, as he called him, occupies a helluva lot of his mind. It could be anything (mostly intellectual probably), but something about the vibes feels like fodder thrown out to the fujoshis, and something about it makes me feel kinda put off. Can't really pinpoint it.

Nichiko's Island a.k.a. Dogs and Punching Bags v1-2: Another one from the author, which I can say it's not exactly bad, but I really, really do not ever end up liking them. In this case, I just think the ending is errrrrks. I mean for one, you have this mother how disses his son essentially saying he's not going to have a normal life, how he's the murderer of his brother and such and then suddenly she cries over all her love to him? And this moron of a wife cheating guy. He's so entirely self-centered, egoistic, pathetic and irresponsible, acting on whims and the bolting to stick to his promised. Like, of course he'd choose wife and child at the end, especially if the wife stands to lose more with being kinda indebted to him for marrying her. But he gets off scot-free with his cheating - that he totally knew wasn't the right thing to do - and it would be one thing if all of them knew in the end and just laughed it off because the moron just never properly grew a few levels in terms of maturity, but the wife and child do not look like they know whatsoever.

Number Call: The author just completely loves this sort of character design template, it's starting to feel a bit like a one-trick pony…

Sugar Apple Fairy Tale v1-3: This series has it with arrogant ass hats, including the male lead, who makes for a pretty bad (as in boring) tsundere. Other than that, not much that has happened yet, which I guess is not a surprise considering the LN source has over 20 volumes …

Tatsuki Fujimoto Short Stories 17-21 + 22-26: These stories were all over the place. The chicken in the alien garden had the most interesting message, I guess. The one about the mermaids actually feels pretty normal, so like, almost boringly normal, but overall probably the prettiest. The one about the sisters was kind of creepy with how one sister is chasing after her sister (and a bit shocking at how that is apparently to origin to Look Back? So like, in a different word those two may have made for a GL story?) and then there's this afterword about Fujimoto confessing to having eaten that dead fish pet and poisoning himself. Eh. I guess that's where the ending of Chainsaw Man Part 1 comes from?

The Essence of Being a Muse v1-3: It's reminded me a deal of Beat and Motion in a lot of places, just a lot more gloom at first and more modest in where it goes.

It does have a few interesting spots, and the issues the MC has and is struggling with somehow it feel like they are the work's own work, too somehow. 50% is pretty unremarkable, in art, pacing and just the whole characters. 30 feels like a scream into the void with heavy feelings that don't really know how to best get out and 20% are spots that don't exactly look brilliant or original per se, but do look like trying hard and that there were some specific thoughts behind it. Made me wonder, how this would have looked in the hands of somebody else. Either one who truly has a talent for originality, or one who has accepted the lack of it and focused instead on grinding handiwork and technique not ashamed of using block elements that were used before a hundred times over.

It's a somewhat fascinating mix overall. An MC who desperately tries to be special somehow and has tied art talent and expressiveness with self-worth, and then all this packed into a presentation that felt like it was trying to do exactly the same. Interestingly, it even resorted to collaborations, so there's oil painting pieces and a sequence of Shoujomangaeque style by other artists. Those do stand out somewhat.

The afterwords also talks about trying to merge two typical narrative pathes of shoujo and shounen and I feel like it doesn't really succeed in neither, but somehow that falling flat seems to suit the overall theme of trying all sorts of things and not really getting anywhere you wanted to get, but you got somewhere a little bit at least.

On the question if it was anything like Blue Period:

I still haven't read Blue Period beyond that v1 I did years ago.

But it's definitely not getting into the finer details of things. Technically you could replace the art with anything else, the main focus is less the art studies or industries but the more abstract theme of somebody who always struggled, is emotionally not very stable in the sense of being firmly on their own feet and having self-fueled confidence and art just happened to be the one single thing MC wasn't completely terrible at and got some measure of praise in the past. And then she tries to stick to that, but also just not really all that great, which she knows herself/has to find out the hard way and I think it's more about people who really just have this one thing left to themselves and their lives become tied to it, whether they really want it or not. Art obviously just happens to be a neat way to put the hurdles and stakes a bit higher, because even if you stick to it, this is not a place where you will find an environment that makes you feel loved, respected and admired, unless you really, really, have talent. But they are still stuck to it, because whatever else are they going to do? (There is a side character with all the same issues who went and studied finances, so something more "useful", but that also didn't particularly make him happy either.)

v3 goes a long tangle about that, and it's pretty stuffed with a bunch of emotions ranging from apathy, resignation, disappointment, self-hate, being extremely lost, a lot of bottled up anger and then a little tiny measure of hope.

It also got the most experimental in trying to get those emotions a fitting vessel, some work quite nicely, some are more like well, uh, nice try, I guess.

Jenseits der Worte a.k.a. Kemutai Hanashi v2ch8-11: There is something really slightly gloom about these chapters that deal with the transience of friendships in the face of later marriage and starting a family. Not helped by knowing what sort of wreckage it causes to Arita later on and for me in this month also entirely not helped by the double dosage I got from Dahlia added on top of it. I had to take a break after chapter 11 on working on it. Chapter 12 is the grand chapter where the series came down like a bomb to me the first time round and I want to do it the proper honors.

Solo Leveling v1-3, 4(WT), v5-6, v11, WTch98-200: Finished. The following may be a quite the unstructured mess including random repetitions from trying to integrate immediate comments from while I was reading. You have been warned.

(Or well, admittedly that warning was just there to weasel this glorious expression pic in.)

In summary, this series was the biggest surprise of the year so far and probably even since last summer when Dahlia dropped for me. I never expected to actually get impressed by this series like that whatsoever. I had read the Japanese volume 1 back in 2021, when it was out there free to read in one of the promotions they so often have and the jp v1 from Kadokawa has the first 6 webtoon chapters compiled, so basically half of the Korean/German print volume 1 and after those 6 chapters my impression of the series could not at all be called being particularly interested, so if not for a string of coincidences and my general grind through them all attitude I'd likely not touched it again anytime soon. It looked edgy, full of violence that looks like it's there for the sake of violence. Looking back on it, it probably has a bit of an effect like Goblin Slayer, which also starts with a lot of shocking violence painting it thick at the start: It's not wrong, it is important to the plot and world building at large and isn't making u-turns that this is a thing, but still is also entirely not representative of the overall tonality and focus the series has overall.

I mean, somebody could have told me, you get stuff like this:

At this point, I also have to express my ????? on the first volume's cover.

Like, who even is this brown haired guy?

Sung Jinwoo never looks like that. He has black hair throughout. He doesn't even wear hoodies like these, so half-assedly. (Like, do you want to hide yourself or not?) He also never grins like that as far as I remember from just reading it? I mean, the illustration isn't exactly bad, and it exudes power fantasy OPness sure, but the man isn't even a OP power cheat, he ascends to something well beyond that. Actually, he's less just a OP-MC-cheat rather than he's a homme fatale. And the series has just about zero sexual antics (beyond a short token one), so there's no misusing the sexual allure for your own purposes irk there either. If there is something I really like aesthetically then it's femme and homme fatales who just exude power by their sheer presence and own the room while also just looking good without the irk of their attractiveness being misused or abused. (But even the classic ones with that trait are exceedingly rare out there.)

But in any case, he doesn't start out like that and what's kinda impressive in hindsight: He starts off very very wimpy, but not whiny. And maybe just slightly insane, because his job reality is just crazy, he wholly knows it and even gets told so multiple times for good measure, but it's still at it. But I think that also is a refreshing thing about his character, because he doesn't care too much about social norms brainwashing him, which definitely is a big part of his adaptability to things. He doesn't have any sort of long-lasting inferiority complex about his past weakness, nor the therefrom fueled ambition to cope, overcome and override them with his newfound power beyond the solution of the actual ongoing problem at hand. Any of it remains just a means to an end, and he doesn't lose his sights upon that, he just wanted to help his family and kinda live his life without things coming across his way leaving a bad aftertaste.

He abides to rules, and he can respect to uphold them (because not doing so is a pain in the butt), but it is entirely not beyond himself to just whatever he wants within the loopholes to it. So it also feels in line with how he has zero qualms to just kill off other human beings, and even the first time didn't at all shake him up too much. There is no morality second guessing there about valuing human lives justice or bettering the world or some such above everything. He just has his own few modest wishes concerning the few people right before his eyes and their safe environment and that ultimately is the extent of it, even if that can well mean battling extradimensional warlords or saving the whole humanity and earth while at it. It also makes him not drunk on his power. He knows about his abilities and the overwhelming power they have, but he stays level heaved about them and while he has this habit to try to solve anything on his own (also why not, when he can), it's not beyond him to seek out helping hands if needed. And that's refreshing, because a OP character that actually works out, who doesn't get drunk on their own power and who doesn't get boring is just so rare. I think he's probably the closest to a Haku from Utawarerumono if you only took his workaholic part from his duality of lazy sarcastic whiny neetness and stopping at nothing including not prizing his own life too much, when it comes to just do what he wants, which usually is for the people important to him. Down to the tendency to not really listen that much to what said people might want themselves concerning him. There is a strong sense of selflessness to it, which however also is complete selfishness at the same time., which is something I already thought was fascinating about Haku. Other than that I can at best think of Mikoto from the A Certain Magical Index/A Certain Scientific Railgun who just knows up huge her powers are and uses them freely without flaunting them, never gets drunk and arrogant about them, but then she always had those powers, so she has more reason for innate confidence. (Plus she is a teenager, with all the antics that involves.)

And as such, if there were to be gods of sorts, this is the sort of mentality that probably is best suited to a godlike being. This one scene where the chairman talks to that politician about how that proposed new law wasn't preferential treatment he just answers that he's right, that's exactly it. Power is might and might becomes right. So the best that can happen is for that power, might, and right… to be kinda modest. (Personally, I think someone too concerned about "rights" and "justice" and some such is just as dangerous as someone with malicious hedonistic, megalomaniac tendencies.)

And even with all his power, he still knows to meet others with a sense of cordial politeness and respect, as long as they are willing to do that as well. And while at it, it also never really catches the shonen nakama/teammate/comrades bug. It's more like alliances, delegation and leaving things out of his field to those who can do it better. That's actually way more real life than your preachy shonen tropes ever will be, which suits the more mature mentality, as Jinwoo himself is already a working adult himself.

Speaking of Shonens I was surprised about how little it reminded me of Hunter x Hunter. I mean, one would suspect that idea to occur, given they both have professions called hunters in both series, an association attached to it and there's even another ant monster arc there with the ant queen having pretty much literally the same motivation to birthing her super killer ant. But like nothing about the mood, style and anything about the series is similar to it really. If anything, I'd rather compare it to Is it Wrong to Pick up Girls in a Dungeon? (minus the harem antics, so probably more like Astrea Record) where there's also this leveling and skills system, which takes out all the more interesting things about leveling and getting better and just grinding and making things easy to parse in numbers, but there is none of this inherent MMO-Game-neet-geekness and accompanied flaunted escapanism to it that so many of the other mmo-style series have. I suppose both series have in common that this series is just a means to an end from the higher powers that be to facilitate an end goal, and this was just one way they picked to make the process approachable by humans.

Other than that the series just actually looks really good, and, if we leave the prologue out, also in way that is so, so full of the Rule of Cool, but never does it come off edgy, nor does it have that sense of rule of cool shonen usually has as in that moments are reserved to pointed climax scenes. No, here, he's just, really always cool. And do many side characters are like that, too (well, so as long as they last.) If you really are strong, your power radiates from you the entire time, not just in plot moments of excitement, and there are so few works that actually manage to do that as artlessly natural.

It certainly also helps, that Jinwoo's growth is gradual, so from the wimpy character he first turns into a few variations of could have been a Shonen Manga MC (among which he once looks kinda like Kazuma of Konosuba shortly and also like the MC of Black Torch), until he finally gets his haircut and first looks like a school council prez, before his hair grows in a bit again, and he has his final signature look of a homme fatale (that on few occasions looked like a Kogami from Psycho Pass or Mamoru from Sailor Moon or Subaru from X/1999). The art definitely makes a case for character design: You wanna be cool and handsome? Remove the roundness from your appearance. It's not just the muscles he gets or his body growing up more vertically. It also made his bangs on the sides of his head seem shorter and once he got rid of them it just proves how much of a difference a mere haircut can make. (It suits him really well even as a child, where there are more rounder features in his face.)

Also, most importantly: Make your eyes less round. Not so much that they are slitty, but perfect almond shaped eyes are best. Now I actually get, why Dahlia keeps repeating that point about Wolf. I absolutely loath slit eyes for being ugly looking, and somehow I thought almond shaped usually meant slitty, but it's more like the perfect balance of nicely pretty big and also not monstrously big round (or worse oval, like the eyes in Key series.)

It was pretty neat in the fake regression-world of Ashborn's, where Jinoo maintains present looks in a past setting and suddenly everyone notices immediately. The change was really so gradual, from one chapter to the next it doesn't feel like a big change, but if you line up it up to the beginning, they pretty much only have their hair color, chin line and contour of their faces in common.

That sounds very much like an understatement lol

But speaking of eyes: There be shiny, glowing eyes.

Not like that there weren't plenty of other series already doing it before, but I can't think of any other series putting such glowing eyes or the auras to such a continuous effect like this series. (Plus, there is more than just Jinwoo's blue/purple from the other characters.) And it certainly also adds to the dynamics of fights, because light sources that move will leave a bit of a light trail, so you kinda have implicit speed lines to help the animateness of the scenes. Which there are good bunch, too. There are many panels, that kinda look reminiscent to screenshots of fast paces sakuga sequences of anime, so multiple such panels coming one after another in quick scrolling succession makes the fights really look almost actually animated.

Also, shiny blue eyes combined with black hair? That's just a color harmony I really dig, give me more of it. (And the hair gets some fluttering in the winds too!) The purple is also nice, tho. I think it's also interesting, how the purple signifies more pure darkness, but also somehow feels a tinge warmer than the blue.

Other than that, it's also been interesting to see how the JP and Korean-based-German paneling of the book versions differ. The JP one is mirrored for right to left reading (and all the names are localized) and the design choice it to maximize the space of the pages to exhibit as much artwork as possible which makes it a bit more graphically striking at first glance, but at the cost of pacing, if you ask me. The German one instead has a lot of space between the panels in the beginning but as the books are bigger (about the size of Yen Press LNs) it also doesn't feel like the actual artwork feels too small or the space wasted. It definitely makes for a better reading flow. leaves breathers to the pacing and more of the vertical panels are preserved without cuts. I wonder if that was part of the reason, I wasn't wowed by the first 6 chapters when reading them in JP at the time? Unfortunately, it seems like that style fizzles out after a few volumes in the German edition as well. :<

Another entirely surprising thing about the series was, it can't just do Rule of Cool. It can also make peak reaction faces and put on a exhibit of different warrobes.

Or really, his just fighting in sneakers and a tracksuit. Or maybe shows up in a suit. He makes usually-not-so-cool clothing still look cool, if needed.

Not that you also get every sort of full fantasy-style armory either on side characters, both worn seriously or for the laughs. And there's really something really practical to have Jinwoo first be too broke to ever buy armory and then just being too OP to actually need them, so he always has a rather casual dress on his fights. Which is looking really nice and stylish, and with that background also not entirely irrational to hell. (Also almost hilarious how the thought about armory in the end battle just kinda occurred to him all of a sudden as if it was a sort of novelty.)

The series is surprisingly funny, cute, dramatic and quite rich in expressions. Even the super overpowered Jinwoo isn't just always cool or dark, but also funny, cute, worried and sometimes also really, really pissed off, and it can all show right away without the need of plot buildups. If you really are strong, your power is at the ready and subtly radiates from you the entire time even without the need of a build up, and I think there's too little amounts of characters who can be like that.

For all the lack of edgyness things do shortly get a bout into such a direction, with that comment about his emotions and pieces about himself getting broken, but that looks more like the fangs of a trauma he really should have had from the events in the past, and it's also basically immediately squashed by Jinho proving not all humans suck ass and then Johee, who also reminds him of what he was able in the past and how much of it he only was because of her. And he makes a u-turn quickly enough away from the edge mood to not care too much about it, as long as they leave him and his important people in peace.

Speaking of Johee, I think she is part of the reason the prologue feels so misleading. It's like she is primed to be the female lead, there are also some moods that in any other series would make her a romantic interest, too. But the series actually choses to sideline her. And not in the usual sense, where they stick around, half uselessly and are mostly just there for some lap naps and some mental comfort/cheese pampering or token cool moments, but she actively sidelines herself by retiring, by her own choice and agency and later on she still gets shown as a part of the world, just in a different real of the world, but isn't directly connected to the active plot involving Jinwoo's further path. Not directly connected anymore, but still connected somehow nonetheless. It's rare for characters to leave the stage so gracefully without them dying and still retain a role in the depicted world.

There was something even more surprising to come:

A cutefied ant monster. Like. How does this Rule of Cool max level series suddenly wind up featuring an actual mascot (that totally can kill you) character? And while Beru has most of it, the other shadows aren't beyond that treatment either.

The bonus chapters are also nice in fleshing their inner worlds out (they are a complete handful) and how they have grown more human. Which I think also subtly hints at the whole losing something stuff from the beginning that Jinwoo comments on earlier being what the plots makes of them: Not much to be concerned about. Everything he loses probably was made to make way for Ashborns power to get in, but all that he loses probably just got collected by the latter instead? And all that was his, gets handed over to Jinwoo anyway, so he isn't really losing anything really. (Granted, that bit is a bit wonky and may pass as slightly inconsistent.)

And also, me, half disappointingly: Even this series did not manage to do without the cheese factor, but equally surprisingly it is quite decently made. Hae-In getting cheese stricken isn't too much of a surprise (somebody whose company you can enjoy simply because he doesn't stink - I definitely can buy that picking attention), but the way he started to feel drawn to her also feels kinda of pretty buyable. He didn't have any active interest in her (or anyone really, but is also not entirely immune to it, given his reactions about the eating out promise with Johee), but she just bludgeoned into his life on his own, making a stand for herself, (that seems to be a pattern, Jinho did the same, and their time together made them friends), being actually powerful enough to meet him on eyelevel to some extent, and before he knew it, aside from his family he realized he didn't really have anyone to talk to, so it was a yeah, why not her, and eventually it's a mix of her just being there with no competition and her just being one of the few he every grew intimate enough to the point that in the end she is one critical component to fill in the void he has from spending so much time alone fighting, having his job done and kinda feeling this sense of purposelessness.

Besides, this shot is just really pretty.

Though I am not one of these cheese fans.

Which basically means

There is more cheese training to do, eh.

Speaking of the ending (ch179), it's funny how it kinda literally ends like Steins;Gate. But ye, why not also time loops. Pulling a regression trope at the end and saying it was there the entire time, you just didn't know, actually feels more refreshing than pulling it right off the bat as a checklist premise item. The ending overall is a bit like a mix of that with Utwarerumono Mask of Truth, except Jinwoo's ascension to kinda goodhood happens a whole deal earlier (that whole chapter about Ashborn meeting him and framing everything as a payoff to his efforts and the Arise Jinwoo he uses one himself is a really visually attractive chapter, too), so he has even more time to be throughout badass. And both Utawarerumono and Steins;Gate just also happen to be another favorite seriess of mine, just like how time travel is a staple element capable of baiting me, so, here is me digging in. (Granted, S;G is still Science Fiction and Solo Leveling's time loops are fantasy.)

The epilogue chapters with those unnamed disciples drawing them are also surprisingly consistent in the art department to the prior bits, even if you can see some differences if you looked closer. Some lines look softer, rounder, the skin color has different tinges, some other gazes seem to have more emotions behind them, and a bit on the composition of fights feels different. It almost makes the whole creation process less like manga creations rather than anime productions, where things aren't drawn by one person, but a whole team who may have little individual touches, but the end product still looks streamlined and consistent. (Unless there was some production fail at work, anyway.) There's funny, sweet and absurd little Slice of Elements, which also seem to introduce something new: Media savyness. There is a reference to One Punch man, and that short stint into a BL reference came from complete left field, but was pretty effective in causing an lmao. There's also random cool fights, Suho just smashing everything to bits and leveling up 99 levels in like less that 1/100th of the time of his father and just everything being a build up to a next story plot. Very Boruto style. But better Boruto, because Suho isn't a brat.

Anyway. It had a few years of delay until I discovered that one again. And it just proves the things I like always pop out from the unexpected places, and why do the things I wind up liking in the end almost always seem to have a habit of me first being anything but impressed or even close to liking it in the beginning? That sort of grinding by trying and re-trying it all is darn exhausting ...

But anyhow some more dork faces for good measure, because just because.

I also shall complain just a little bit, that there was never suit-Jinwoo in action to be seen. The one fight where he wore one, he pretty much just stood there and let the shadows do the work. (But then, I guess, good clothing should not be wasted by damaging it with needless fighting.)

Solo Leveling: Ragnarok ch1-47 (Season 1 end): Well. Uh. The poster cover and the insides kind of look somewhat different yet again. I mean definitely closer than cover 1 of the previous series and its insides, but the coloring texture is different, and why is Suho having swords, when he basically dissed swords in the epilogue of the previous series and went for fist fights and gauntlets instead?

But in any case: The first 3 chapters were genuinely good, they packed a punch and added just enough to make Suho definitely his father's son, but also a character of his own. Despite his childhood in the previous series proving he had all the talent in the world, he still has to suffer what it means to be helplessly weak and mourning the loss of a grounded confidence he once had. The stakes on his very life are there, and then the system pops up, but just as the reader wholly knows what its deal is, so does Suho already have a rough knowledge of how to use it from the tutorial, so we do not waste any time on a mystery system, that is not a mystery to anyone anymore. It still retains the effect of showing up in the best time to help him to his awakening, so he can survive. And while it seems like a cheap way out to just have his parents written out of the plot it uses that bit rather effectively to direct the mystery of the unknown to be uncovered about what happened to Jinwoo, while also avoiding the pit trap of having the old cast steal the show of the new protagonist. (I appreciate Boruto having tried to not cop out to the easy route right away, but ultimately even that one couldn't manage without writing Naruto and Sasuke out of the plot more conveniently than not and compared to that I suppose I'#'d rather have it off the bat like that.) Cherry on top, like the epilogue of the first series, the artist of this one proves they can handle art style consistency while adding some more new touches, so it's decidedly just really nice to look at.

Also, shiny blue eyes with black hair again~ (Part of the reason the fusion form just does not enthuse me whatsoever.)

And then Beru shows up and trashes all the remaining enemies away.

Which was still cool, but suddenly the ant has lost his powers (well duh, he needs to not steal the show I guess), so this cutetsy thing gets downgraded to a sidegag that is a wandering spoiler hazard and fanboy moron, about as useful/annoying as the Microsoft Office 2003 Clippy mascot.

Like, way to destroy all the suspense and mystery by just… spilling the beans about what his father has gone doing, explaining anything and everything at every step of the corner, being a complete convenient extract-info-from-corpses plot device, giving so much info on what the dangers are, not rarely discouraging Suho from having own ideas and also every so often stressing that the system is a gift to help him. So like it's a safe route and yeah, let's just do what it says, and forgotten are also the earlier complexes and worrying about compromising his self and going with the flow because he's been so weak. And then it goes and has Suho exhibit that he had caught the justice bug. Which, how could he have such an idealized image of his detective father, when he'd lived with him until he was a teen as seen in the epilogue? Also, why are his memories so hazy, as if he didn't know him, is this going Psycho Pass Season 2 Mika with no continuity to S1? Jinwoo's hair is back to his signature hairstyle even in all the flashbacks, which is different from in the epilogue. And we go on, and the whole series has caught the nakama bug with a literal quest for teammates. Somehow also slightly humanizing a past walking destruction hazard of a monarch, which, uh, how come? And making a former side character kinda useless. I mean cool, that it seems to be set on to give side characters also from fleshing out and screentime and Esil really felt more like a throwaway character than not in the first series, so much the epilogue even made a joke about it. But did you have to force her into becoming an outlet for the clumsy girl tripping trope of all things? (Also Grey just…. may be a wolf, but looks like a dog and I still absolutely don't have a thing for dogs …) They just all look so pathetic and the whole drill of it really just looking very very battle shonen is errrrrr. Having him wear some Tokyo Ghoul-ish masks isn't helping the case. (Also, his fusion form with that white spicky hair and extra eyelashes just looks completely generic, which is to say lame.) I really wanted to say, this was the better Boruto, but increasingly, I got less convinced.

Then it also adds a villain with a really shitty character and faces that range from a mean spirited Kiritsugu from Fate/Zero to really obnoxiously exaggerated grimaces and it's like one cannot wait until he exits the stage hopefully without too much whining about being a sore loser and let's better not remember he ever existed. And he's another side character from the previous series getting more fleshed out, but if Minsung was more of a joke character for the laughs with indications that he was hardly the most upstanding personality in the first series here he's just… not having any redeeming qualities at all and worse, he doesn't even look like a proper treat. Just a test on the wayside so he doesn't even feel like a villain you'd relish as a reader to see him punished and the turned into a shadow.

This goes on until about chapter 35ish, when it turns out, this villain actually nabs Suho and punches him both verbally and actually and confronts him with the entire problem this whole series has: It has been chasing shadows and tropes made Suho do that, too. Beru once makes a meta comment about how this is like the story of something along the lines "I thought I was a helpless unawakened nobody, but I'm actually the ultimate shadow heir?" which kinda looks like a lame genre self awareness that is entirely out of place and instead only brings in implied plot armory. (Suho's expression is what the whole middle part was to me.) Which didn't help on top this really stakes-free looking system leveling him up, all the wishy washy nakamaism, how his whole moral code of right and wrong is just borrowed and nothing about it is his and how he's really really really just going with the flow and not doing much of his own.

And yeah, he gets his ass kicked about really really neatly (or well he gets impaled) and even Minsung manages to get a dignified exit to the stage by showing the middle finger to the real apostle enemy. The following sequence of Suho realizing how much he was bathing in lukewarm and drawing a arch back to the beginning really got up to speed again, also visually very nice bit arching back to the paintings with his pen reference. Tho first disappointingly it just leads to him kinda doing some I'm gonna become the Hokage-style-declaration, except there isn't actually any confidence behind it, rather than he really just realized he needed something like it to drive him forwards as his own character. It felt extremely weak, but what's really cooler how he kinda just immediately gets a punched as well by the plot (or well, he gets impales yet again) and then we're into that the system is not able to wholly protect him just like that and then the system is compromised, how safe things are in the forced quests remains a question mark and finally, finally! The actual stakes are back. The last quest of the season about Suho having to fight his past selves and then conquering his alternate present self from another world is really cool to trash his wimpy-winy-lukewarm attitude out of him and the end about him going dafaq about picking one of the three system routes and going no he's going to have them all. Oh, and he finally ditches his mask. - Now we're talking vibes from the first series again.

And then the season ends and that was the last chapter around for the time being. Which is, well, darn, when it just got good again. How mean!

By now, I also totally think the plot and world is back in a time loop story. The Cup of Reincarnation was depleted in the first series, but there is one panel with that outer god giving another cup to his apostles ordering them to use it and also there is Suho's alternative self from the system quest. Going by the epilogue scene, Jinwoo was still around when he and Hae-in had their 16th wedding anniversary before he goes to face the invasion from a gate, which would also be when Suho was still a teen. Rewind that 10 years, and suddenly the only hazy memories Suho has about his parents make perfectly sense. Just like how this weird distance Chairman Woo seems to have thinking about Jinwoo does as well in all its nostalgic wistfulness, Jinwoo's hairstyle reverting back to his signature look, the indications of Tielle about how Jinwoo kinda looks very lonely would fall in just fine, too. (How many loops long in years has he fought already?) And that other self of Suho, who maybe awakened much earlier with a better support group and less going easy routes of playing it safe, is already said to be more than just an illusion of the system. Maybe it's latent memories of past loops, he's slowly getting to remember once he gets more power back? Any maybe those selves had gone too overconfident, leading to an earlier demise, which may be the reason of Jinwoo keeping the seal that much longer intact? May also explain the swords in the poster cover and Suho going to use them is yet to come, like his alternate self did.

Now, I like Time Loop stories that play with the alternative timelines, so, I kinda really hope I'm not just seeing red herrings.

For all the complaints above, this sequel is doing a better foundation at world building and giving side character a time of the day and also seems to fill in onto the evolution of how god's creations may start thinking on their own and rebel (Tielle totally looks primed for that). And with Tielle getting fragments of his self back and getting powerful that way he's the only one with a similar trait to the power leveling up Suho has, so this series may actually have an antagonist, that not only lasts a deal longer than any of the previous series, but evolves along the protagonist. So Ragnarok has an entirely different approach to things, which are all very refreshing, but darn was the middle bulk part of this season a chewy piece of not being all that exciting. The payoff at the end definitely worked however, and the beginning is still a genuinely really well-made hook.

I don't look forward to the waiting game now.

Maybe I should start reading the WN…

Music:

Well, a continuation from last month pretty much and grinding some new stuff, which included a batch of Hayashi Yuuki sountracks, which didn't leave much a lasting impression bar a few ones for a little bit, which is how those selected MHA and Double Decker tracks came about. But even those faded somewhat quickly, tho Aosaki's broken wings (Instrumental) also just randomly showed up and seemed to harmonize well with the YLL GRYM and Double Decker tracks.

I was still grinding though the Hayashi scores, when I started reading Solo Leveling and probably just by timing, Don't lose from the Born to be on Air soundtrack, whose series I totally have not watched, kinda got repurposed to a Solo Leveling OST in my brain. But only that one single track, which was when the Hayashi score grinding got a backseat and then most coincidentally 汪苏泷 - 无名之辈 landed on the playlist by algorithm. Which also has just been rewired into a Solo Leveling OST of sorts. Sadly the artist seems to only have one song in this style and I have to wonder just how heavily edited and pitch corrected it may be considering how the live/concert performance clips that are up on yt sound … not so great.

After that, I kinda figured, maybe I could just listen to the actual Solo Leveling Anime Soundtrack, especially as the second season's score also dropped by now. And while I was at it, I guess there was also some grinding through the most recent stuff by Sawano Hiroyuki. And so the last third of the month was pretty much just Solo Leveling(ish sounding) music. Granted, the S2 Vocal tracks first sounded more Attack on Titan than anything, but their lyrics are clearly not that. As for Dark Aria I just have to wonder about the "the question of my love?" line. Where did that come from, in a series that (at least to that point of the plot), really is about as cheese free as it gets.

What did you eat yesterday? v22: Quality content as per usual, but I made the mistake of reading it for a change of breather after being tortured with foodstuff scenes in Dahlia and Kemutai Hanashi. (Whyever I picked a foodie manga out of anything to distract myself from all that ...) The signs on the first page literally made me wince shortly.

But Shiro delivers more than a few nod nods from me. They feel just so real!

a.k.a. I still wanna have a grocery buddy like he and Kayoko are.

There were also a few other surprises:

I was going wtf, was Shiro going to become cheese? This perfectly tsundere Shiro?!

Way to go from a cheese build up to the cost of living crisis!!

You can definitely feel it's set in the contemporary world, there is the cost of living issues, there's talk about chatGPT, and a soft side trashing on the state of gay marriage in Japan in one of Wataru's snotty rambles. In reality it was ruled uncontitutional to not have them by the Tokyo High court end of last year, so this may become a likely plot point in one of the next volumes.

[queenharumiura]

Moved from: [x] || @thehandworld

Haru quietly smiled, hoping that everything ended well like he said, but it was so hard to have faith when Tsuna had already died. Sometimes, she still felt like he would suddenly return saying something like, ‘I couldn’t rest in the afterlife when my friends were struggling, so they sent me back.’ However, reality was harsh and he wasn’t coming back, and everyone had to work even harder to try to protect their friends and family.

It wouldn’t be helpful at all to be pessimistic, and she didn’t want her husband to think she doubted him. “I’m sure you’ll resolve everything like you always do. You always see your tasks to the end.” Wanting to stay positive, “once everything is over, we can go back to our lives and live together peacefully again.” Well, as peaceful as it can be aside from the small squabbles they’d have every now and again.

“Hm? I remember, you’ll be changing the emoji and there is a back up contact person to ensure that Haru doesn’t get tricked by someone and get lured out.” She confirms that she’s understood the protocol with the coded messages. It made her nervous to know that the situation was so serious that it required the use of coded messages and even a code phrase to tell her that something that happened to him. She bit her lower lip out of anxiety. They did talk about this earlier, but he added on another catch phrase for her to know that he was still fine- just busy.

She assumes it’s because he thought about it some more and revised his plan. “Don’t forget that you promised to take care of yourself the best you can even if I’m not around to nag you to rest or eat.” She’s only willingly going into hiding like you asked because you assured her that you’d do your best to stay healthy. She’s reminding him of that fact. ‘Hopefully Kyoko-chan will have similar protocols in place with her brother so that they both know the other is safe.’

[majestativa]

Poetry begins in darkness & secrecy, and gradually unfolds.

— SUSAN MCCASLIN ⚜️ Inviting the Incubus, Kissing the Succubi: The Muse in Canadian Women’s Poetry, (2006)

[overx]

Headcanon ask!! Tell us about the Angels in Soul-Bound!

I touched on Angels briefly in this post but now it's time for their own individual one!

Please note that angels in Soul-Bound do not derive much inspiration from biblical canon, which is much the same for our demons. Pretty much everything in SB's world building takes inspiration from multiple sources in mythology, folklore, and pop culture, rather than attempting to be fully accurate. This is the best way for us to include so many creatures and deities that we love from extremely different origins AND make them work together. You can see this with Morozko and Quetzal for example, whose real life inspirations come from separate cultures, even though they act in similar roles in the same pantheon for our mythos.

With that disclaimer out of the way, let's talk about angels in the world of Soul-Bound.

As you might expect, they are the opposite of demons (sometimes called infernals) in pretty much every way. Where demons in our canon serve as underlings for Death in the underworld (Inferno), angels are typically bound to the mortal plane.

Angels do not work as agents of any particular god in our pantheon. They are actually an invention of living beings. See, in the world of SB, even intention can create magic.

For example, a luck charm is not inherently lucky. The act of carrying it with you, and believing it's lucky, can slowly imbue it with luck. This idea works in a variety of situations, but under normal circumstances applies mostly to small charms, family heirlooms, etc. Angels are created with this mechanic on a large scale.

If there are enough people who believe in angels, and they are simultaneously praying for one to appear, they can inadvertently create one. This nearly always happens during war or other great calamities. Because there is so little known about them by the average person, this has led to a lot of rumors and myths springing up around them, which sort of perpetuates the belief in them.

Now, because angels are not naturally occurring magical creatures, they actually lack their own magic. They are constantly absorbing energy in order to sustain their own existences, and will otherwise collapse into themselves if they cannot find enough to maintain their forms.

Most often this means consuming magical creatures, stealing that energy from those with lesser magic, or eating magic imbued items. This is where they get that many eyed / many limbed appearance from. Every angel is an amalgamation of the things it had to eat to survive. (It is also a callback to the way many traditions and holidays from older faiths were absorbed into what we now consider to be 'modern' ones.)

In most cases, humans are not fully absorbed the way magical creatures like say, dragons would be. This is partially because their intention fuels the angels, but also because humans don't really have magic on the same scale as a lot of other creatures. Usually they have to train and master it, rather than coming into the world with natural abilities. Instead an angel will just "eat" what magic potential a human has (you can think of this like losing levels and the ability to cast spells in RPGs).

It isn't really known if angels are sentient or if they're basically just wandering blackholes. They tend not to be able to find enough resources to sustain for long before they burn out, and they have even been known to try and consume each other if nothing else is available.

Basically, demons grant wishes, but angels are created from them. Where demons use contracts to access magic they might not normally have / enhance their existing abilities, angels have none to begin with and must make their own.

Angels are also the unnatural opposite to people like Raziel, but that is a post for a different time!

[kurosakilchigo]

[dazzelmethat]

I bought “The essence of being a muse” by Aya Fumino at half priced books. And I thought I’d share a moment I liked. Try to buy the book if you enjoy my analysis.

The book has a fascinating way of portraying conversational miscommunication.

First instance is from ch 1

This is the same scene from the guy’s pov in ch 4.

Still kinda an asshole thing to say. But it shows more that consolidating with someone about shared patheticness when you have low self esteem is insulting. Even if he meant it as a complement.

The way the mangaka used the character’s thought text to cover up the girl’s speech bubble is smart. In that a characters’s social anxiety driven interpretation of a sentence just wrecks the conversation.

I’m autistic and very aware that ‘every man is an island’ but I like to see attention drawn to the feeling.