#forget i ever put this out into the world

[milla-frenchy]

In the cold night

3k1 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: being on patrol, Joel and you spend the cold winter night together in a small house

Warnings: 18+ mdni. mention of a past SA attempt (not by Joel), protective!joel, feral!joel saving reader, friends to lovers, one bed, soft!joel, praise kink, masturbation (f), thighs rubbing, oral (f), piv. No age specified

a/n: this is written for @justagalwhowrites 's “Joel Miller birthday celebration”. I chose Jackson!Joel/one bed- Thank you for this event 🙏 Thank you @arcanefox207 for the gif in the mood board ❤️ Please, check out the full gif here and some others, they are stunning 😍 Thank you, Ally 🙏❤️ @aurorawritestoescape thank you as always for beta-ing, baby 💕🫶 dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

The crunch of your footsteps in the snow echoes in your head. Two rabbits are hanging from Joel’s back, clinging to his shoulder. His brown jacket has lost its shine long, long time ago, and the leather is frayed at the elbows and sleeves. Every time you pass him, the smell of old leather rushes into your nostrils. A reassuring, familiar scent.

You’re heading to an outpost, as you have done so many times before. You know each other's reflexes by heart, the way your bodies tense in case of danger, the glances that make speech useless. You no longer count the number of infected you have killed during patrols.

You look around a small wooden house. Searching for footprints, anything that might put you on alert. You scan the area, whether for infected, or worse- hunters or raiders.

You feel safe with Joel, ever since the day he snatched you from the hands of raiders. Two dirty, skinny men. They surprised you, during one of your first long patrols. They knocked Joel out, and dragged you on an old mattress of the shelter you just arrived at. They did not even pay attention to the dead duck that you planned to eat that evening. In this world, with some men, food is not the first thing they crave. 

You punched one of them, then tried to grab your knife, but two men were too much to handle. When they threw you onto the mattress, you struggled, screaming, biting, then one held your arms while the other removed your pants. Tears obstructed your view. You would have preferred to be bitten by an infected, rather than that. 

Just as the first man was about to lie down between your thighs while you were crying with rage, you heard a dull, cold, unexpected noise. A knife thrown from the opposite side of the room, just stuck in the skull of the man, holding your arms. As soon Joel threw the knife, he rushed to rip the man off your body, and then punched him so many times that his face got swollen from the blows and turned unrecognizable.

“Piece o’shit!” Joel growled from the depths of his chest. You looked at him, still half in shock at what had almost happened to you, feeling relieved. The man was lying on the ground, barely breathing. Joel let go of his collar and retrieved the knife from the second man’s skull. He pressed the tip of the blade against his heart and slowly pushed it in, his dark gaze fixed on the man’s. The raider’s feet twitched for a few moments, before they froze for eternity.

Then Joel rushed over to you and covered you with an old blanket pulled from the foot of the bed. As soon as he sat down on the mattress, his worried eyes fixed on you, you wrapped your arms around his waist. Wanting to forget your fear, to curl up against his reassuring presence. He took you in his arms, rocking you slowly, holding you close to him.

“ ‘m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear them coming, because of my damn bad ear.”

“It’s ok, Joel, it’s ok. They didn’t do anything to me,” you muffled in his chest.

“No it’s not. They did way too much. But I got you, now. I got you. Won’t happen again. Not on my watch.”

He held you against him for several minutes, patiently, one hand caressing your back, the other resting on the nape of your neck, until you stopped crying. He then asked if you were feeling a little better, if he could get the bodies out of the outpost. He didn’t want you to see them anymore. You nodded, watched him as he dragged the bodies out into the surrounding woods. 

He was sitting next to you until you fell asleep. He stood guard all night, staring at the shadows of the trees through the window, letting you rest.

From that day on, you knew that nothing would happen to you as long as you were with Joel. He was the type of man who, when he said something, stuck to it. He was reliable, loyal, and serious. He was your patrol partner, and you couldn't have asked for a better one.

Once you reach the shelter, you prepare the fire in the hearth of the old fireplace, while Joel goes around this old house, half buried under the snow. It is the first time that you patrol here in the middle of winter, and the walls and the ground are icy. You eat one of the rabbits, trying in vain to warm yourself by the fire. As you get ready to go to bed, Joel puts a blanket on the floor.

“What are you doing, Joel? You can't sleep there. You're gonna freeze and die, it’s too cold!”

“There's only one bed, sweetheart. Ain't gonna sleep with you.”

“Of course you're gonna sleep with me. Come on, Joel, don't be silly. We can share the bed, we have to keep each other warm or the next patrol will find our two skeletons in this damn house.”

“Jesus, you’re so stubborn! Alright then.”

You smile, thinking that you had never met someone as stubborn as him, and if he hadn't noticed your slightly blue lips, he probably wouldn't have changed his mind.

You undress and slip under the thin blankets, wearing your t-shirt and panties. Grimacing at the contact with the cold and damp covers. He joins you in the small bed, and even though warmth radiates from his body, your teeth still chatter.

“Christ, you're freezing. C’mere, I’ll keep you warm,” he says, as you take off your t-shirt and he discards his too, leaving only his boxers.

“Told you we had to sleep in the same damn bed… and I'm the stubborn one?”

He chuckles, and takes you in his arms, his chest pressed against your back.

“Better, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, you’re as warm as a boiler. How is that possible? Icicles are practically falling off these blankets.”

��Alright, you’re exaggerating a bit, don’t you think?”

You scoff and muffle a laugh, then fall asleep.

You wake up during the night, Joel's light snoring in your ear. His arms are still around you and you're much less cold. His scent surrounds you. You shift slightly, putting the blanket that had slipped back on both of you. The movement makes him mumble in his sleep and you smile, getting ready to fall back asleep, until you feel him twitch against you. His cock, asleep until then, has just woken up in his boxers when your ass brushed against it.

You open your eyes suddenly. It’s been a long time since you felt a body- a hard cock - against you. You try to move away from him a little, to not wake him up, to not create awkwardness between you. But he holds you tighter against him, letting out a sigh of contentment when his cock finds its place against your ass again.

You get a rush of arousal and you're not sure if you'll be able to fall back asleep. Your walls are contracting painfully, calling for a release of the pressure from your crotch. You close your eyes, placing your hand under the pillow. Trying to think of something else, until his cock jerks again. Once, twice. There’s no way you’re gonna be able to fall back asleep. 

So you think that maybe, if you do it discreetly, you can make yourself come. Even though he's lying against you, his chest against your back.

You slide your hand south, slowly, so as not to wake him, and start brushing your swollen folds through your panties. But it's not enough. You slide your hand under the hem, finally whirling your clit under your finger. Joel growls against your ear and you freeze for a few moments, until his breathing becomes calm, steady. Gently, you stroke yourself, finally starting to feel the fire in your crotch calm down a little.

You vaguely feel his nose brush your hair, not paying much attention to it, thinking he does it in his sleep. Then you feel his hand slowly slide down your arm, and you jerk, hastily removing your fingers from your panties, realizing that Joel is awake and that he has caught you.

“It’s ok, sweetheart,” he whispers softly in your ear in his sleepy voice, taking your hand and gently bringing it back to your pussy.

You feel the heat reach your cheeks and think about getting up, but you're too ashamed to face him. There had never been any sexual tension between the two of you. You're what you could call friends, in this lost world. You trust each other, he told you about Sarah, you told him about your late husband and son. You trust each other, and honestly, you never thought about him as more than a friend. And you don't want to ruin your friendship.

“I just want you to feel good.”

You stay silent for a few moments. Thinking about what he's telling you. You know he's sincere. 

You feel your clit pulsing and you bite your lip.

“Ok, Joel,” you breathe out. 

You're unsure of what will happen between the two of you after, but you let him lead your hand and slide your fingers under your soaked panties. You're already moaning at the first touch and you feel your nipples hardening. 

Delicately, the tips of his fingers pressed against yours, you let him lead the dance and travel through your folds. Then he slides both your hands into your panties, and makes you touch yourself so delicately, as if you were the most fragile thing in the world, that new moans escape you.

“Keep going, Joel, please…”

He hums, grazing your ear with his nose. You hear his breathing deepen, then he presses his forehead against your shoulder blade, still using your finger to brush your clit. You feel your pussy dripping. The fact that he is using your fingers, so perfectly, is perhaps the most sensual thing you have ever done.

You feel his cock stuck in his boxers harden even more as he keeps touching you. You crave to feel him against you, without any fabric between your bodies. You forget your shyness, your reserve, your worries.

“Would you… pull down your boxers? So I can feel you?*

“Of course, sweetheart.” He lets go of your hand to pull down his underwear. His hard cock springs out and this time you feel it fully against you. Big, hard.

“Between my thighs, please…”

He kisses your back and grabs his cock, slides it into this tight space, then comes to rest against your fingers again, in your panties. You slowly move your pelvis back and forth, rubbing yourself against his shaft.

“Christ, sweetheart… Feeling you against me, like that…”

“I know, Joel. It’s… good, really good.”

You no longer remember your fear that this will change things between you. The feeling is too good, too powerful, to think about anything else.

His shaft slides easily between your thighs, your pussy soaking him continuously.

“You’re so wet for me, baby”, he whispers in your ear, and a new flow trickles from your walls. His free hand caresses your shoulder, then he kisses it. You feel his mustache brush your skin, and your moans fill the room.

“You’re gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

“Fuck… fuck yeah, I'm gonna come, Joel.”

He keeps playing with your fingers with the same rhythm, feeling that you are close. Your mind goes blank. You only think about the pressure growing inside you, ready to explode.

“Come on baby, be a good girl for me,” he murmurs.

The orgasm washes over you, and you arch your back under its power, your ass pressed against Joel’s crotch. “Always such a good girl for me,” he praises, holding you against him, your hand in his, until your jerks stop.

Your breathing slowly goes down. “Damn”, you say. “That was so hot.”

“It was,” he smiles, kissing your shoulder. He doesn't ask for more, doesn't put any pressure on you, but you need more. You need your bodies to be one. You don't think too much about it, then add quickly, “Joel… I need to…” before shyness overwhelms you again, and he asks softly “tell me, baby. What do you need?”

The soft tone of his voice reassures you, and you add “I need to feel you… I need to feel you inside me.”

“Turn around, sweetheart. Lemme look at you.”

You do as he says, and face him. You barely see his face in the darkness of the night. Just enough to perceive the intensity in his gaze, behind his usual sweetness with you, as he strokes your cheek gently with his thumb.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nod, of course. Ready to take whatever he wants to give you. His warm lips land on yours and press against them. You hear him take a deep breath, then his nose rubs yours. He kisses you again, with more intensity, and sensations you thought forgotten forever jostle throughout your whole being. His tongue tastes your lips, then slides between them and finds yours. He moans as your hand grabs his shaft softly, wet with his precum and your desire. You jerk him off slowly as you continue to make out. He's big. So big. But you don't wonder if your body can accept it, after all this time. You know it will. And you know Joel will be soft. You nestle his cock at your entrance after pushing your panties aside, murmuring “I wanna feel you,” your forehead against his.

You tilt your pelvis forward and his tip slides inside you, making you hold your breath for a few moments.

“You’re ok?”

“Yeah. I just have to… get used to it.” 

He doesn’t move and lets you handle the rhythm. You kiss him again, and you feel your pussy dripping, eager to be filled. You put your hand on the back of his neck and squeeze his bicep with the other, sliding further down his shaft. Your walls spread as you glide on his tip and again, you feel that forgotten feeling. Your breasts are pressed against his chest, nipples tense. Your hand runs through his neck, and you feel his prominent veins under your fingers. 

“Oh my god,” you whine, when he is fully inside you. You pull back then push forward again, to reassure his worried eyes on you. You are so wet that the sounds echo in your ears and the whole room. Joel holds you against him, gently, sensually. One hand on your hip, the other on your back.

“Joel?” you ask.

“Tell me, sweetheart.”

“Can you lie down on me? I'd like to feel you deeper.”

He caresses your cheek and tells you yes, of course.

You lie on your back and he removes your panties, kneeling between your thighs.

And he looks at you, from your face to your cunt. "You're beautiful," he says. His stare stops there, then he glances at you. As if he was asking you silently if he could taste you. You nod and he settles between your thighs, spreading your folds with his fingers.

“You're so wet for me, baby,” he adds, before licking your pussy in a long stroke. Pointing his tongue at your clit, then running over your folds again. Your knees are bent, legs spread as wide as possible. His head moves between your offered thighs, your hands lost in his curls, while his tongue laps at your dripping pussy. He pushes two fingers in your core, and places his lips around your clit, sucking it. Then swirls it under his tongue, while his fingers thrust in at a perfect, regular pace.

“Joel,” you whimper. “I'm gonna come again.”

Your nails tighten on his scalp as you come on his tongue, your walls squeezing uncontrollably around his two fingers. He pulls them out and replaces them with his tongue, drinking in everything that flows from you. The feeling is so strong, forgotten for so long, that you feel like you're going to burst into tears. But he stops, careful not to overwhelm you, and lies down between your thighs. He places his hand on your cheek and searches for your eyes before pushing his tip into you with his other hand, eyes lowered to you.

“Damn sweetheart,” he breathes. “You feel so good around me.”

His words envelop you and lull you. His voice is low, calm, as slow and sweet as the rhythm in which he sinks into you.

All his weight is on you and you have never felt so safe in your entire life. His arms surround you as you kiss. Your hands roam the top of his body. His arms, his shoulders, his back, his cheeks, his neck. His cock slides inside you, pushing your walls in the most perfect way with each thrust. Your knees are spread wide to welcome him between your thighs. He straightens up, leaning on one hand, and looks at you. Looks into your eyes filled with desire.

He watches your neck throbbing. Your chest heaving.

He watches where his cock is digging into you.

“I'm not gonna last. Can you give me one more, baby?”

“Yeah, it's... yes.”

He lies back on you, eyes locked on yours, and slides his arms under your shoulders. Your hot, sweaty chests rub against each other. He doesn't take his eyes off you as he thrusts into you, his shaft rubbing exactly where you need it. Your fingers dig into his flesh as you come on his shaft and he stops moving. Eager to keep watching you twitch beneath him, but trying not to come too. Not yet, not inside you. He wants to let you come until the shaking stops. 

He looks at you, and focuses on a mole, chosen at random. To focus on something else, than your pussy perfectly squeezing him. When your trembling finally stops, he grabs his cock hastily, just in time before his cum coats the inside of your thighs and your lower stomach, then his heavy body rests against yours.

“Christ, sweetheart… that was amazing,” he says, smiling at you. You kiss and then nestle against his chest. You feel his heart beat hard, then gradually calm down. You fall asleep without even realizing it.

When you wake up, it’s daylight. The smell of coffee rushes into your nostrils. For a moment, it’s like life is almost normal.

You sit up in bed, holding the blanket against you.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he says. Smiling, warm. Joel.

You smile back at him, thinking that you would like to wake up next to him every single day, from now on. 

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary @survivingandenduring @iamasaddie

npt: tagging those who showed interest in the wip wednesday post, love you ❤️

@mountainsandmayhem @thundermartini @schnarfer @itwasntimethatdidit40 @sawymredfox

@almostfoxglove @604to647 @ace-turned-confused @pascalssbabyy @pedrospatch

@mermaidgirl30

[aspen-charminghearts]

Tw: Mentions of Child Abuse Imagine watching your mother kills people on the daily while she also emotionally (and likely psychically) abuses you. That was all that your childhood was, while you’re not allowed to have a single friend and the ones you did have, your mother orders killed. So your only form of companionship is your tutor is who much older than you and yet then you two are not exactly close friends because you simply can’t in this kind of world. One day though you get your ticket out and your murderous mom lets you go for some confusing reason but you’re so excited because for once your life won’t just be watching people die, your mom hurting you for not being what she wishes of you, and loneliness. It now could be companionship, life, and freedom. You’re almost there- then you realize your mom used you to ruin what was supposed to be your new life, and you’re there trying to stop her for once because this was your only hope and you just watch her stomp on it as you watch her say that your only use in life was being her key to invading a kingdom. But you didn’t want this, so for once you argue back but it’s useless and then this random woman you’re mom clearly despises comes up and challenges her but you’re just silently begging her to stop and leave because you can’t see anymore blood spilt, and then your mom puts her life in your hands. You can’t do it, you verbally now beg her to just freaking kneel because you don’t want to be the monster your mom is. But then she says you can’t do it, this woman who you were just begging to save herself says that you can’t be the one thing that will make yourself something good enough. So you do it, but you don’t feel any better because you know it’s wrong and you just can’t see another person die. The blood can’t be on your hands this time. But then you see that cheery girl you called annoying (annoyingly pretty that is, but you’re not gonna admit that out loud) from earlier yelling and screaming at you, you’re taking away someone else’s mom, a mom who actually is good enough that her kid is begging for her. You decide you have to fix this but you accidentally bring angry girl with you because she’s about to be stupid like her mom and you can’t see another person die. So back in time you go, you discover your mom was good, you fall in love with the girl, and you fix everything. You go back and it’s all amazing. But now everyone expects you to be this different version of you that you were not, because you weren’t the one who grew up with the sweet queen of hearts, had friends, and a normal life. You’re the messed up version who’s seen to much, and now you just.. have to figure it out. And your only help is the bubbly girl you fell for and you both just can’t ever tell another soul. Everyone’s depending in it.

That was Red’s life.

Sometimes I simply can’t forget how horrible and difficult things must’ve been for her. She’s stronger than most of us are. I don’t know how disney is going to have to deal with it in the next movie but I expect at least one year jerking scene or I will protest.

[mentalmeles]

Well. While the brain rot has me, I wanna talk about some lines in ‘Trust Love’ that have been bothering me lately. Mostly how they blatantly reference Penny and how she just might return once more.

Yes, it’s that kind of Penny posting. If you don’t subscribe to the Penny 3.0 theory or think she should stay dead, please carry on and let me have my silly little thoughts in peace. Also this is 100% Nuts and Dolts propaganda. I will not apologize.

ANYWAY! Onto the lyrics!

Right now, your hopes are shattered / Just pointless ever after

This line obviously talks about the loss of hope. Penny, time and again, has been the character to symbolize hope. The most obvious time this has been done was during Jinxy’s auction in Volume 9.

Ruby is inexplicably drawn to the jade marionette, which we all know turns out to be one of Penny’s swords. (And ofc let’s not forget that weapons are considered an extension of their owners in this world.)

Without knowing why, Ruby wants it and tries to wager for it. But Jinxy asks for something in particular—something Ruby has lost.

“Enough hope to fill [a] jar.”

I also want to point out that the pov making it look like the jade marionette is fitting inside the jar as well as the star charm tied around the top are not at all coincidences. This is the show telling us point blank that Penny is the personification of hope. Or at least Ruby’s hope.

But Ruby just lost her. She has no hope left.

But in time, you'll find / Through love, your power just shines

(I felt the need to put this gif here since it is exactly what plays during these lines in the Volume 7 intro, so let’s just sit and think about the implications of that for a moment. Cool? Cool.)

When you don't know where to turn to / And you're sure all hope is gone / When the day you waited for won't come / And dark won't yield to dawn / Trust love and open up your eyes

Now these lines are what get me. They talk about Ruby losing hope and direction, caught in darkness. Now, while this is the intro song for Volume 7, it’s clear that Ruby has not lost her hope yet. If anything, she just got a big chunk of it back.

And I’d argue that even In Volume 8 when shit has hit the fan and it just keeps coming and coming, Ruby hasn’t lost her resolve yet. There are definitely moments when she comes very, very close to it and she falters, but she does end up maintaining it for the most part.

(I can't find it, but imagine the gif where Ruby is looking down at Penny's unconscious body and is tearing up while saying "It's all...too much." Wow. Such a pretty gif.)

(It's also funny how these moments where Ruby's doubts are the strongest are taking place when Penny is seriously wounded and incapacitated, now isn't it? Surely that's just a funny coincidence...)

But then she and the rest of team RWBY fall into the Ever After and, after learning about Penny's second death, Ruby's mental state just falls deeper and deeper.

But then the lyrics tell Ruby that all she has to do during this dark and harrowing moment is to 'trust love.' Who's love is she supposed to trust? The song has been relating to keeping hope up till now, so it's not a stretch to say that she's supposed to trust the love she had for Penny, platonic or otherwise.

Trust love, the truth is there, but sometimes in disguise

These lines are certainly interesting when put into the context that they're also related to Penny somehow. Personally, all I can think of is when Penny transferred the Winter Maiden powers to Winter. I'm definitely not the first to mention this, but it's awfully suspicious that the aura glow was yellow and not green, isn't it? Sure, there were motes of green, but that isn't what happened when Fria gave Penny the powers previously. So why the change? Unless the truth, while there, is disguised. The truth is that Penny is dying and giving up her power, but it's disguised somehow...

The way's uncertain but we're together / Movin' toward the light / When we trust in love and open up our eyes

Mention of Ruby being together with someone. Obviously, this could just be referring to team RWBY or the whole group being together, united under the mission of saving Remnant from Salem. But, again, when mostly every other line has been tied to hope--and by extension Penny--, it's hard to believe it's talking about that. So, maybe a reunion with a certain someone that hasn't happened yet? A reunion that will bring Ruby back towards the light--towards regaining her hope--once and for all? I mean, if Ruby's character arc in the second Justice League crossover movie is where her arc will go in the show proper, it's not too far of a stretch.

(The reason I mention the Justice League crossover movies is because Ruby's arc in the first movie was very reminiscent to the arc she had about her leadership role in Volumes 7 and 8. So, since she became very self sacrificing in that movie, diving headfirst into mission after mission with no regard to her safety, maybe that's what will happen in Volume 10 too? Maybe having the potential of getting Penny back will be the thing to make her stop?)

Anyways... I don't know if any of this really made any sense and I might just be rambling nonsense, but yeah. Some things that I noticed and felt the need to shout out into the ether.

Thanks for reading!

[rainroses45]

Imagine being on your period with the winchester brothers.

i mean i’m currently late for mine (AND NO IM NOT PREGNANT) and lately i’ve been feeling like i could strangle any man that approaches me

like just picture dean starring at you like “wtf” as you just beat up the demon barehanded

the sick son of a bitch doesn’t even have time to react back..you are just going full WWE mode on them

not to mention sam would be so worried he would try to walk towards you but dean would just put his hand in front of him like “sammy let her cook”

you would just be throwing punches and screaming “TELL EVE WHEN I SEE HER I WILL FUCKEN RIP OUT HER UTERUS”

to which caused sam to slowly walk back from the scene infront of him, hands in the air in surrender

afterwards dean wouldn’t even complain about the blood dripping down from your face when you enter the impala (he would never say this out loud but you scared him)

sam would sit still the entire car ride trying to not provoke you into fighting, which to his luck, you almost ended up killing the drive thru worker for forgetting your fries

“Y/n! LET GO OF HIS APRON!” “NOT UNTIL THIS MF GIVES ME MY CURLY FRIES!!”

the guy ended up giving you two boxes filled with fries and sam just did the awkward hand motion he did when dean was about to shoot the pigeon (PLS UNDERSTAND THIS REFERENCE)

dean would be throwing fries at you the entire car ride back to the motel while announcing“the beast has been fed!”

bonus points if they need to stop to buy you more pads

dean would totally look at you and ask “what size of pussy do you have and what flavor you want?” as he checked out the pads

in the end he got you “some night time ones with lime flavor” to which you almost strangled him for forgetting your candy bar

“I SWEAR DEAN WINCHESTER IF YOU DIDNT GET ME MY CANDY BAR I WILL KILL YOU AND CUT YOU UP JUST TO DUNK THE LITTLE PIECES IN CEMENT AND HIDE THEM ACROSS THE WORLD SO THEY NEVER FIND YOUR FULL CORSPE!”

let’s just say after that dean never forgot your candy bar ever again

[n0tamused]

Hello! I wanna send a req if u don't mind! Separate hcs/headcanons for Blade & Jing Yuan with gn!reader where the reader is being dense when another man tries to flirt with them. That's all & thx!

Contents: fluff, gn reader, hope you enjoy! Sorry for the long wait

Jing Yuan:

-The General of the Luofu and his lover are what people see as an example of a stable relationship, considering just how long you’ve been together, and not just as romantic partners either. Jing Yuan trusts you without a doubt, and you trust him all the same in equal measure, if not even more.

-Trust is not something either of you debate, and you are both happy to know of one another’s ability to trust and rely on the other, but that same trust can, in no way, be applied to the people outside of the relationship - strangers especially. 

-From this, there were a few instances where a stranger might have tried to approach the General, even if you were nearby, sputtering flowery words or playing with the locks of their hair. Jing Yuan never entertained such actions, brushing them aside and making clear mention how he “had to return to his beloved” before leaving the person aside. He knows how many people swoon over him and makes it a point to give you even more love to reassure you that he’d never look at any of them as fondly as he looks at you. You’re the only one that has a place in his heart. 

-But what Jing Yuan is not exactly fond of experiencing is you going through the same thing. Even from afar he can see how your lips press into a thin uncomfortable line, your eyes gazing at this stranger in caution, unblinking with unease. He sees you try, and vaguely hears as he approaches, how you try and get out of the conversation without making much of a fuss, and although you are firm too - the other is way too stubborn to back off

-The large hands of Jing Yuan find their way onto your sides, and he’s now peering at the person over your shoulder with that coy smile on his face. He doesn’t look threatening per se, but one would have to be a fool to not understand the mistake of their doings now

-He greets the person just as amiably, asking you what is going on, a curious little cat he is, he wants to know. But he doesn’t linger, he knows you want to get away, just as much as he wants to remove you from this situation. He tells the person something rather cryptic, rather poisoned honey for words, and the person understands - that much he makes sure off before he politely excuses you both away

-The General isn’t someone people fear and he doesn’t ever feel the need to present himself as a figure that needs to herald any unease of fear. He only dislikes his partner being put in such an unfavorable position and he will use his vast vocabulary to hide little threats for such behavior skillfully. His partner’s comfort is up on his priority list and he doesn’t play around with that

Blade:

-Blade is not one to beat around the bush or pray for forgiveness from anyone he might offend with his bluntness, and he certainly keeps this demeanor even after forgetting certain things due to Mara or Kafka’s Spirit Whisper

-As a lover he is rather distant and although he cares somewhere deep down in his old, scarred heart, a stranger wouldn’t be able to guess you’re even friends out in the open world. He doesn’t like standing in one place for too long, and if there’s intel that needs to be gathered or something that needs to be done, he puts a reasonable distance between the two of you as well, safety reasons mainly come to mind, but a part of him doesn’t want you to be involved in this business anyway so subconsciously he is trying to distance you from the operations as a whole. He tries and he fails, but he tries again next time and fails again.

-He always has an eye out for you, like a sixth sense ingrained into his mind.

-Along the lines of his work he vaguely does remember a few bold individuals that have tried to “hit on him”, but they were either not completely sober or were easily ignored. He wasn’t the person to entertain any flirtatious remarks and he isn’t the easiest person to approach. He scares people easily, so he doesn’t have much of a problem with people getting in his way just to say his eyes are pretty or something else.

-You, on the other hand, are not nearly as blunt or scary as he is, everyone’s aware of that. 

-He doesn’t waste time either. Once he senses you may be uncomfortable by another person’s approach to you, he’s already stepping in and making the person scurry off with a few rash choice of words that definitely sting at best. 

-Similarly to Jing Yuan, he values the peace your own peace of mind brings, and he doesn’t play around when it comes to your comfort. If someone disturbs you, he will make sure they stop and never do so again.

-He’s rather protective of you, even in those moments where he seems to forget the connection you two share.

-Just imagine: You’re talking to this unpleasant stranger, alcohol is clinging to them like perfume and they’re talking about how they’d love to invite you over for dinner, but suddenly they look over your shoulder where Blade is now taking a step towards you. He seemingly appeared out of thin air, merged from the crowd and he’s wearing the darkest of expressions, but he is unbothered truly. You don’t have to look behind you to know it is him either, he radiates that certain atmosphere that is hard to mistake. “Is there something wrong here?” he asks plainly, stiffly even, the question more pointed to you as he glares the stranger down. The stranger, unsure if this was alcohol's doing or reality is quick to scurry away with plenty of excuses bubbling up to their lips and farewells. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[heybrownieboy]

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: A MURDERER, A DEMON, AND AN ELEMENTAL?

POV: 2nd Person. Y/N.

— Word Count: 2K+

Author’s Note: Finally an update :). In all honesty, I’ve been struggling with getting back into writing lately— after not having time nor mental energy to in so long— but, I’ve also have felt awful going M.I.A for over two months. So, while I was working on this, I decided to break up what I do have and give you all this little update. I wanted to reassure you all that I am NOT giving up on this SMAU. At all. I will be continuing and finishing it. But for now, I hope you enjoy this. I apologize for it being short but, I promise the next chapter is much longer (once I’m able to actually put this one damn scene into words 😭).

“Do you honestly think this is a good idea?” 

You tore your eyes away from your TV—which was currently playing reruns of “Happiness”— and to the spirit siting on the couch next to you.

“What?” you asked. 

“Tonight,” Minho said. “Do you honestly think going to that shrine tonight is a good idea?” 

“Yes,” you said. 

“That caretaker is crazy, Y/N. Like completely batshit crazy."

“So I’ve heard,” you said.

“I mean it,” Minho said, exasperated. “I think he’s the one that actually killed Jisung and I.” 

Your eyes widened. “Wait what?” you asked. 

“I don’t remember a lot from that night,” he said. “Like at all. And I know you said spirits tend to forget more and more things the longer their earth bound.” 

You nodded at that. 

“But I remember some snippets of that night,” Minho said. “And I think he was there. I swear saw him for a spilt second. I was too shocked when I found…” He took a deep breath, an obvious expression of pain and grief crossing his face. “When I found Jisung’s body. So, I wasn’t exactly paying attention to my surroundings. I saw the caretaker run behind me from my peripheral vision. But, before I could react there was a rope wrapping around my throat.” 

“I thought you two were kidnapped?” you asked. 

“I think we were,” he said. “At least in a sense. Do you remember when Jeongin talked about that night he went to the mountain alone?” 

“He said he doesn’t remember the car ride there,” you said quietly. 

“Or half of his hike through the woods,” Minho finished. "Not until he heard Jisung. From what I remember, something similar happened to me.” 

“It was probably the demon controlling you,” you said. “They’re good at that. It’s like a semi-possession.” You rubbed your temples. “So I’m about to go spy on a murderer, a demon, and an elemental?”

“What do you think they’re doing up there?” Minho said.

“Honestly I don’t know. I feel like I don’t know anything. Everything for me with this whole thing has been guesses.” 

“Yet you’re still trying to help,” Minho said. 

“Of course I am,” you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

“Because it’s dangerous and you could get hurt,” he said. “Or even die.” 

You shrugged. “It’s not the first time I’ve almost died.” 

“Yeah,” Minho said slowly. “What’s with that huh? How are you alive and have been to hell?” 

You winced. “It was a long time ago,” you said. “And in all honestly I don’t really like talking about it much.”

“I get that,” Minho said. “And I won’t push you to talk about something you don’t want to. Hell was the worst thing I ever experienced in my life. I mean, yeah I guess it’s Hell but, I never expected it to be like…”  He grimaced at the memories.

“Yep,” you agreed, completely understanding of what he meant. 

“I thought it was just going to be super hot.” Minho let out a humorless chuckle. “I wasn’t exactly religious before all this so, I guess I never really read up on it.”

“You could say Dante wasn’t too far off,” you said. “And I do think it’s a little different for everyone.” 

“Yeah. Sometimes Jisung and I would see different things.” 

You squinted at the spirit. “Have you seen any other spirits lately?” 

Minho tilted his head at you. “No actually,” he said. “Now that I think about it. The only one I’ve seen all week is Jisung. Why?” 

“Fucking hell,” you grumbled. You leaned against the back of your couch, head thrown back and eyes staring up at the ceiling. “I’m starting to think that’s what these rituals are for. Because in my twenty years of life, I’ve never gone a day without seeing a least four or five spirits. I’ve only seen three others— besides you and Jisung— in the last week. That’s it. And it been over a week since I’ve seen a demon.” 

“That’s not a good thing?” 

“God, I wish it was. But, no it’s not.” 

“Fuck,” Minho breathed. “So, what should we do? I knew this was complicated and dangerous but this? This seems next level.” 

“I don’t know…” You threw up your hands exasperated. “I feel like that’s all I’ve been saying lately. ‘I don’t know’. It’s so fucking frustrating.” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Minho said softly. “You’re trying. You’re helping us even if you don’t have to. And so far you’ve done an amazing job okay?”

You have him a half hearted smile. “Thank you,” you said.

“Is there maybe any kind of research you can do on this?” he offered. “I mean, there has to be some answers out there somewhere right?” 

“Maybe,” you said. “I only have like an half an hour before Jay and Nico pick me up though. And kind of search isn’t something I have easy access too. Not to mention it’s the supernatural. Nothing is finite. There’s thousands of rituals out there. And thousands more that aren’t recorded.” You nibbled on the inside of your cheek nervously.

“You grew up in a family of Shaman right?” Minho asked. “Can’t you ask like an elder or something for help?” 

You scrunched your nose at that. “I don’t talk to most of them anymore,” you said. “But, I do have someone I could call. My aunt should be able give me some kind of advice.” 

You leaned over to grab your cell phone off the coffee table. It should be around five P.M in London right now. You scrolled to your aunt’s contact and hit call. It only took a few rings for the line to be picked up

“Y/N-ah.” 

The sound of your Aunt Bora’s gentle voice on the other side of the line immediately had you relaxing. The tension that had building up all day seemed to almost completely melt away. 

“Hi,” you said softly. “How are you?” 

“I’m doing great, honey,” your aunt said. “But what about you? It’s almost one A.M in Korea right now. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” 

“I wish I could,” you said. “But I’ve been stressed out lately and couldn’t sleep.” 

“Stressed out about school?” Bora asked. “Because you shouldn’t be. I know studying to get your nursing degree can be challenging but you’re extremely intelligent, Y/N. You’ll make an amazing nurse in the future.” 

You smiled at that. “Thank you,” you said. You let out a soft sigh. “But that’ not the reason I called you. I need advice. On the supernatural.” 

“Oh? What do you mean? What’s happening?” 

“Do you remember those two men that went missing last year?” you asked.

“Yes,” Bora said. “Lily-ah and Natty-ah knew them through friends, correct? What were their names again?” 

“Lee Minho and Han Jisung,” you said. You glanced at Minho for a second. He was the one now leaned back into the couch watching you contently. 

“Didn’t you try to help find them last year?” your aunt asked.

“I did,” you confirmed. “But I couldn’t. I didn’t find a trace of them physically or spiritually.” 

“I’ve always found that strange. It’s almost like…” 

“Someone might have been hiding them.” 

“Exactly,” Bora said. “Did you finally find them?” 

“Kind of,” you said. “It’s more like they found me. Well, technically Jeongin found me.”

“Jeongin?” 

“Their friend. Um, how do I even explain?” 

“Start from the beginning yeah?” Bora said, her voice gentle. “Tell me everything you know.” 

And so you did. You explained how Jeongin originally had come to you or “Eris” for advice because he thought his friend was haunting him. How that turned out to be correct and that Minho was in fact trying to get through to him. You explained how you saw Minho and then had the premonition about Jisung. You explained their spiritual debt and how they were tricked by those three. How they had to escape hell and how half of their soul was stolen from them.

“So,” Bora said slowly, “you’re trying to help them break their spiritual debt and move on?” 

“Yes,” you said, with a slight wavier to your voice.

“But?” 

“But that’s not all. One of the trio he made a contract with was human. A living human. Minho is pretty sure that he’s the one that murdered them.” 

“Y/N,” your aunt said lowly. “You can’t confront a murder.” 

“Oh, I’m not done though.” 

There was a few beats of silence before your aunt asked, “What do you mean?”

“In the past week or so, I’ve seen three spirits and no demons,” you said. “Only one of those spirits talked to me. And all it did was ask for the time.” 

“Asked for the time? Spirits never ask for the time. Unless…” 

“Unless they’re being summoned somewhere,” you said. “I think they’re all being summoned to that mount Minho and Jisung went missing on. By the human.” 

“You think he’s summoning them all there for something bigger,” Bora said. 

“Exactly,” you said. “He’s been preforming rituals for about two weeks. At least that we know of. “

“He’s most likely a Shaman. A very powerful one. Rituals like that? They aren’t easy. At all.” 

“I know,” you said.

“And I’m guessing there’s more,” Bora said with a soft sigh. 

“The other two being they made this contract with are supernatural. One is a demon. But the other one, neither Minho or Jisung knew what it was. They said it was different from the demon.” 

“Don’t tell me…” 

“I’m pretty sure it’s an elemental, yeah.” 

“Y/N,” your aunt said voice now taking on a firm, cold edge. “You need to stay away from elementals. They can and will kill you if you ever get in their way. Forget the murderous shaman. Elementals are not bound to the same rules as demons. Not to mention they hate humans more than demons ever have.” 

“I know,” you said. “I do but…” You took a deep breath. “I cannot not help. There’s something seriously wrong.” 

“It doesn’t matter. This is your lif—“ 

“They have wards to keep away angels,” you said cutting your aunt off. 

“What?” she asked, utter disbelief overtaking her tone.

“Minho said that the mountain is littered in wards keeping angels out,” you said. “Namely Azrael.” 

“That’s impossible.” 

“You would think. At first he thought it was just the hellhounds being kept out. They got too close to the mountain and they were repelled, But he said that Azrael has not been able to get onto the mountain at all either. That the barrier the wards created repelled him as well.” 

The other line went silent. After a few moments you began to worry that the call had disconnected. 

“Hel—“ 

“I don’t like this Y/N,” your aunt said quietly. “At all. I understand Azrael is probably the last angel you want to see since… since all of that happened. But he’s still an angel. He’s still a protector. If you go on that mountain, you have absolutely no protection. Not against the Shaman nor the elemental.”

“I realize that,” you said. “And I completely understand that. But like I said. There’s something seriously wrong happening. I think Minho and Jisung were apart of whatever plan they have going on. Not to mention they’ve been talking about Jeongin. Another human life they most likely want to take. They’ve been planning this for at least a year now, Aunt Bora. Whatever it is, it’s huge. God know how many people will eventually be dragged into this."

Your aunt let out a heavy, defeated sigh. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. I know there’s no way to talk you out of this.” Another sigh left her lips. “ Let me think for a few minutes. Maybe I can help.” 

You smiled. “Thank you,” you said. “So much.” 

Your aunt simply hummed. After a few minutes she began speaking again. “How were those to boys killed? Do you know? I might be able to narrow down what ritual they’re trying to get ready up for.” 

“They were strangled,” you said. You peered at Minho for a second, your eyes focusing on the wound around his neck.. “Well, honestly it looks like the rope cut into their throats. They both have these huge infected gashes.” 

“Infected?” Bora asked. 

You copied her hum from a few moments ago. “Yeah.”

“Y/N, if they were dead, how could their wounds be infected?” 

< Previous | Next >

Of Chaos And Spirits Masterlist

Taglist (Open): @lily-loves-kpop @f9clementine @bookswillfindyouaway @lilyuwon @kpopjackie @i-dont-know-me-either @tirena1 @velvetmoonlght @whiteghostt @iambangchanswife @mehli-00 @chantalkkate16 @briar-rose23 @fic-for-readers @to-toad @fr34k4c1dr41n @jiryunie

©️heybrownieboy 2024

[olenvasynyt]

Top 3 most controversial acotar takes/opinions, now☄️

Uh nooooo only my top three? Alrighty. These are going to be very harsh:

1. I have read the ACOTAR series at least 3 times since 2021 and I very often skim chapters every week for posts and videos. And I will be fully honest, I never want to reread the series ever again because of Feyre. I dislike her biases, her hypocrisy, her habit of ignoring other people’s POVs and the mistakes she’s made. I hate her excuses and her blindness and selfishness and how she treats everyone who is not in the IC. I hate how she treats Tamlin and Lucien. I physically cannot reread ACOWAR without flinching at all of the stuff she does, ESPECIALLY her taking down Spring out of revenge. I do not like her as an FMC and I’m glad we have moved past her story and onto other characters.

2. I think the fanbase’s hatred for Tamlin is so extreme and it is heavily influenced by Feyre’s own biases, as well as stupid memes on tiktok. If you take a second to look at the story from Tamlin’s perspective, you can easily understand his actions. With Hybern, EVERYONE FORGETS THAT 1. He was not part of the Archeron Sister’s kidnapping, that was Ianthe. It’s literally explained by Hybern in the book. And 2. He was playing as a double agent, which is hinted at many many times and it is something we later discover. I would go into it more but I feel like that’s its own post that many people have made before.

3. I don’t think SJM is the best writer. I know writers can retcon, especially in huge series like this, but she uses retconning as a crutch, and it’s very frustrating. She has so many inconsistencies and plot holes and inconveniences that personally bother me. I think her world building in ACOTAR is so flat and not thought out at all, and her magic system is even worse. Most of her villains, not just in ACOTAR but in her other series, are not that good idk. She also has a habit of the typical villain monologue that I am getting so sick of and I literally skip the part of the human queen during the Blood Rite because I think it’s so badly written 😭😂

And here’s some random ones just for fun with no to little explanation (I couldn’t do just 3 LMAO sorry)

4. ACOTAR would be better in 3rd POV limited and we can still get the mystery of the world, Feyre’s biases, etc. A lot of problems I have would be solved if we got the POVs of other characters

5. I would like Rhys so much more if he was revealed to be a villain

6. Lucien is one of the only characters I genuinely enjoy, and I’m holding out for him. If he did not exist, I would not be reading ACOTAR at all

7. The IC are awful for how they treat Nesta and I DESPISE THE “intervention” they put her through. It was not a real intervention and readers should not try to defend it in that way

8. This fanbase is filled with too many straight normies who have never experienced a fanbase before and refuse to broaden their minds and think beyond canon. Tamsand would be the most popular ship in any other fanbase. There would be more sexuality and gender headcanons. Trans headcanons, trans fanfics, m-preg fanfics, etc etc. But I guess this is a very popular fantasy romance so I get why those aren’t popular but I should not have to explain why it’s okay to ship ships that aren’t canon, and why people often insert their heteronormative fantasies in queer ships (looking at you Azris)

[trippinsorrows]

through your eyes + au 2

authors: well....this is happening. don't ask. we're just going with it. gotta read part one before consuming this.

don't know who's interested, so only tagging the people i know have read and would be okay with a tag!

taglist: @sayyestoheav3nn @fearlesschimera @annfg8 @zoeyybellex3 @cyberdejos2

Solana never expected to see Roman Reigns again. Not in person, at least. That up close, especially.

It was a one off. A fluke. An anomaly. Her happenstance literal run-in with quite literally the most dangerous man in their world was just one of those things she'd never forget but nothing beyond that.

She could never forget his intense gaze on her, the heat that shot through her body when he touched her, his arm holding her, protecting her almost from a man who clearly doesn't understand boundaries.

But, while she tried her best to put the weekend's unexpected happening behind her, life, or maybe fate, had another plan in motion. One she could have never expected or seen coming.

She's sorting through one of the few remaining boxes that still needs to be tagged and put out for sale when a throat clears behind her.

Putting down the iPad, Solana stands up, wiping her hands on her shorts and loads up her typical, usual smile. Turning around, she readies to greet the probable customer but falters a bit, taken back by his appearance.

Wild, red hair that's surely seen better days. Tall with an almost lanky build, he wears one of the friendliest grins she's ever seen on a person, let alone a man.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes. "How can I help you?"

Again, he clears his throat, pulling out a wrinkled little piece of paper that seems to have writing scribbled on it. "Yes, I'm looking for a Sol---Solana?"

She laughs at his pronunciation but proceeds to confirm her identity. "I'm Solana."

He makes a sound, slapping his hand against his forehead. "Of course, my apologies!" She giggles. His demeanor is so amenable. "Umm, yes, if you could, umm, come with me?"

At that, Solana's smile drops. "I'm sorry?"

He leans over a bit, and she naturally moves back a little. "I'm sorry." His cheeks are heating with redness. "I'm here on behalf of the Tribal Chief."

Solana goes still. "Roman?" He nods. "He's---he's here?"

When Solana mentioned Roman coming to see her, something she still can't figure out where it came from, she wasn't actually expecting him to follow through on that.

And yet....

The man continues to explain, "he would come in, but....you know."

Yes, she does know. Roman Reigns coming into her little, quaint bookstore would certainly attract an audience and attention, the last two things she wants, that she's ever wanted.

Solana nods.

She should reject it. Should try to find some excuse as to why she can't. Why she's busy. But, she's also not dumb enough to say no to this man.

You don't just say no to Roman Reigns. You can, but it's bound to not end up well. And Solana would rather not find herself on his bad side.

Pushing back her anxiety, she finds herself agreeing. "Of course." Hooking her fingers through the hoops of her denim shorts, she asks, "w-where is he?"

The man whose name she realizes she still doesn't know motions with his arm. "Ladies first."

He really does have a gentless about him that doesn't seem to make sense considering who he works for.

Solana silently and wordlessly follows him out the emergency exit in the back of the store, ignoring the fact that that's probably how he got inside in the first place, which makes little to no sense to her. How did he get by without the security system going off? But, for her own sanity, she doesn't push it too much.

This is Roman.

He gets what he wants.

And speaking of, Solana finds her stomach knotting a bit when she's outside in the alleyway behind the strip. There's three black SUV's with tinted windows lined up, but he's standing by the one in the middle. Leaning against the middle door, his arms are crossed over each other, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes she secretly wishes she could see.

Moving closer, Solana has to take in once again the magnanimity of him. Roman is such a big man, his presence alone something that's both overwhelming and strangely satisfying.

But, when she gets her wish, and he lifts his sunglasses to the top of his head, she finds that feeling in her stomach intensifying. He's raking those beautiful eyes over her entire body, from the top of her head to the sole of her feet.

And Solana is suddenly wishing she'd maybe put on a little makeup or done something more sophisticated with her hair. Not that that seems to stop this man from looking like he'd take her in the back of this alley if he could.

Before she can say anything, the man with the wild red hair is speaking again, his voice suddenly riddled with anxiety.

She gets it.

"Ms. Solana, as you requested, sir." He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and just when Solana expects him to walk away, leaving her along with the one man she probably shouldn't be left alone with, he continues to talk, offering an unexpected save. "And might I say, my Tribal Chief, she is absolutely beautiful. I mean, if I wasn't already married—" At the same time Solana looks at this strange man confused, Roman's gaze is borderline murderous. "But I am m-married, happily so, might I add. And I would never betray my Tribal Chief—"

"Sami."

"Yes, My Tribal Chief?"

"Leave." It's spoken to the man, but Roman's intense gaze is back on her. "Now."

Sami.....it fits.

"Of course," Sami clears his throat and scrambles away, getting in the SUV that's farthest from them without bothering as so much as a goodbye.

Once alone, she finds herself admitting in that same small voice, "I-I didn't think you'd actually come."

He chuckles, and it's such a beautiful sound. "I'm a man of my word, Solana." He flicks his eyes to her mouth. "I said I would see you again, didn't I?"

He did. She just wasn't counting on it.

Swallowing, Solana toys with the string of her top, unintentionally dragging Roman's attention to her cleavage that's showing more than usual. Of course. "How did you find—"

"That was easy. If I want something, I get it." She should know this, know that this man could probably have her social security number at this point if he wanted. "What are you doing tonight?"

Oh.

This is escalating. Quickly. So quickly. She should pump the breaks, should find someway to dead this now. But, she instead finds herself answering him, "n-nothing. Why?"

"You are now." Roman kicks off the SUV and instead moves toward her. Instead of backing away like she did with Sami, Solana stands still, only silently and internally panicking when he snakes his arm behind her and jerks her toward him, into him, into his body. Solid as steel. He's so big. Naturally, her hand moves to his chest, something Roman notices and smirks at. This man. "I'm fighting tonight. I want you there."

It takes her a second to think about what he's referring to, and then it hits her. WarGames is tonight. It's one of the few main events he still participates in. She hasn't attended an event in years. It's never been her setting, but instead of finding a way to tell him this, she's still limited to one to two word response.

"O-oh."

His smirk deepens as he brings his hand to her chin, thumb glossing over her skin. "I'll send a car to pick you up."

Picking up on something, she asks, partially concerned, partially flattered almost. "You-you know where I live?"

Roman's eyes continue to study her face, and she's never felt so under pressure. Like this is a test of some sort that she has no idea if she's passing or not. "I know a lot about you, Solana Miller, but there's still more I want to know." Oh my god. "Wear red."

Just how much does he know? Had he looked her up? Done research on her? Why? What would be the reason? What's so interesting about her that not only has he gone out of his way to gather information on her, but beyond that, is now seeking more info.

It just....it doesn't make sense.

Eyes shutting a bit from the overwhelming nature of this all, she finds herself asking in a breathy voice, "w-why?"

And as if she wasn't already an apprehensive mess, Solana's knees nearly give out from under her when he dips his mouth near her ear. "I like seeing you in my color." She exhales shakily and nervously, as he ghosts his lips over the shell of her ear. "Though I'd rather see you in nothing, but we'll work up to that."

That's not exactly what she was asking about, but regardless, it takes the pure will of God for her to not pass out when he finally pulls away, the lack of his touch on her body something she notices almost immediately.

Roman lifts his hand and snaps, not even a full minute later, one of his men emerging from the passenger side of the SUV to open the car door for him. "I'll see you tonight, Solana."

He can clearly see the reaction he's evoking from her and obviously finds great enjoyment in absolutely toying with her sanity. It's something that leads to her asking, "How-how do you know I'll be there?"

She never accepted. Never agreed. Never mind the fact that she's already thinking about what she owns red that could work for the event....

Roman gives her a curious look followed by another chuckle that she finds so much more attractive than she should. He answers so easily and confidently before climbing in the truck, door being shut for him,

"Because you're just as intrigued by me as I am by you."

[cvrsedslytherin]

Exquisite Hell — My Silver-Tongued Devil

Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader (First person POV)

NSFW, minors do not interact. Work of ANGST and SMUT.

Sebastian Sallow was a silver-tongued devil. One you couldn’t get enough of; not even when it poisoned you. Your endless thoughts seeped through as he took you like he always did—he gave you agony and pleasure.

Divider Credits: @/thecutestgrotto

Disclaimer: I’d like to consider this a poetic oneshot though I’m no poet. This is a new style of writing I’m trying. Same with the reader being GN and a first person pov. I tried my best as I’m learning this style and even one of these genres, not used to smut. This was inspired by two things. I can only hope I did it justice.

Winsome and diaphanous were the way Sebastian Sallow’s words came at me; he truly had a way of making me believe all the charming things he would say.

Was it his smile that would bask in the warmth of a thousand suns? Was it the way his deep-set brown eyes would glimmer like honey as soon as the light had shone on them? Was it the low tone of his voice with that Scottish accent that sent shivers down my spine? Or maybe it was the hundreds of freckles painted on his face that made him seem so innocent at first.

That smile wasn’t a smile but a dangerous smirk that I was too blind to see. Calculated, because he knew what he was doing to me. The light illuminated his eyes, tricking me to forget how dark they would usually be.

And the freckles? Well, those were just damn attractive. No trickery, just sheer dumb luck to make him more perfect.

I don’t have to explain how devastatingly handsome Sebastian Sallow is. Not only did he have a brain that captivated me in every way; even with the darkness that shackled his mind… but he also looked like everything I ever wanted. A nightmare masking as a daydream.

What was he, sculpted by the Greek Gods somehow?

Yet he was the most flawed being I ever had the agonizing pleasure of knowing. An ugliness that I was still drawn to. Not even the Cruciatus curse compared to him. I felt as though I was put under Imperio just to endure his delightful pain—and yes, it was delightful.

One day, I swear my heart would feel Avada Kedavra cast from him. Maybe not in a literal sense but definitely in the way that my soul would get turned into ashes by him.

Sebastian Sallow, the personification of the Unforgivable curses. In a hauntingly, beautiful way.

An angel is what he could have been but too bad, he was the devil. Alas, I was the mere fool caught in his trap though.

Sebastian had potential; it wasn’t that he was evil per se, there was good but it had been too deeply buried in the confines of his smeared soul. Too much hurt had plagued him and as much as I wished to be his saving grace, I couldn’t be. No matter how hard I tried, he was lost.

And all I could do was let him drag me through this exquisite hell that would eventually destroy me.

Perhaps I was twisted too… because I couldn’t stay away.

I was in love.

A familiar sensation, of Sebastian fucking me well into oblivion. His cock was so deeply swallowed by me, making me moan out incoherent words. A game that we played except it wasn’t a game to me; yet I let myself stay as a player.

Once he heard those sinful sounds escape from my lips, his smirk widened. His eyes twinkled with pride because he knew. He fucking knew.

I enjoyed the pleasure too; it would be a lie to say that I didn’t. My body undoubtedly craved his just as he seemed to want to mold into mine, trying to possess me.

Wanting him in every way imaginable but I don’t just mean this erotic dance we engaged in. Ah, I digress.

Sebastian Sallow knew how to fuck and make you feel like you’re on top of the world, that was the simple truth.

On the other hand, I had wished he was fucking me out of pure love… but I knew better than to believe the sweet praises falling from those lips. The praises left a bittersweet taste in my mouth as I both relished and ached at those delicious words.

Maybe deep down… he did feel something as this was reoccurring. The full length of his shaft seemed to find a home in the tightness of my heat. Never getting tired of the pleasurable sensation, he nor I.

I couldn’t read his mind; he’d never let me nor would he offer to share any depth. I wasn’t the most angelic of people either—so casting 'Legilimens’ was always on the tip of my tongue, to just dive into that tortured soul of a mind. Merlin, the curiosity was a brutal need. The spell whirling in my mind as if to taunt me.

I just wanted to know… what he hides in there.

Yet I felt that sometimes, I was the only one who could understand him. Who could pick up the cues. I knew he was a mess of a person—the prettiest boy, full of mischief and sadness; a violent boy, full of rage and insecurity that others failed to see. I noticed everything about him.

But not what he thinks of me. He needs someone. Who can that someone be? It won’t be me, no matter how hard I wish upon the stars in the night sky to grant me this one thing. Why would it? This is the prison of chaos not the oasis of miracles.

In the primal sense, it seemed like he needed ME but love? He’s charismatic to several, which makes me turn green; my eyes full of jealousy burning behind his back. A burning that I had to dip into the vast ocean to cleanse out of my system before the pain in me revealed itself. This was where the problems that choked me lay. Flirtatious in personality and infected others with smiles, even if they got annoyed with him. No one could stay away from him and I know he was experienced. Whether from the past or present. I know he would compliment others; he couldn’t resist charming a pretty girl who gave him attention—that came his way, stealing what I laid naive, emotional claim to.

Fuck, I was as possessive as he was. I just hid it well externally. And yes, he spoke possessively to me, maybe because it was the heat of passion.

“You feel amazing, fuck…” A grunt escaped his mouth at a particularly rough thrust that had my insides shaking. I arched a bit, accepting how greedily he wanted to bury himself inside of me—stretching me more and more to my limits every single time.

“You’re mine, say it… ah, haa…” he practically growled that out as I whimpered.

He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t have.

Yet my heart instantly responded with a ‘yes, I’m utterly yours, you fool.’ That whimper caused him delight as his eyes darkened at me.

But I had a small piece of pride during these moments when he wrecked me; a shudder in my body serving to his pleasure. A pride he would no doubt, break down.

He took his free hand that wasn’t gripping my hip with a bruising force and pried my mouth fully open with his thumb. His movements speed up, slamming with reckless abandon now. ‘He’s close,’ I thought. He slightly pushed his thumb into my mouth, holding the bottom of my jaw with the rest of his hand, the tip of his thumb touching my bottom teeth, moving further in—trying to feel a bit of my tongue.

“Say it, sweetheart… c’mon, say that you’re mine,” he didn’t growl it this time. Much to my surprise, it almost sounded like a plea rather than a command and that’s how devilish he was. He knew I would weaken at that tone right away. I cursed my weakness.

Gasping out, I mumbled, “A-ah… y-yours…”

“Whose?” His thrust punctuated that question and his hand was still there, wanting me to mumble more. Commanding it now to rip out of me.

“Yours… S-Sebastian… I’m yours.” My mouth betrayed my little pride despite it being the truth. I had no eyes for anyone else.

He groaned in satisfaction and grinned a little, then dipped his thumb fully into my mouth, making me suck. My lips closed in and my tongue moved slightly because I would have kissed and licked every part of him.

And I did.

Just as he also did it; he would worship my body sometimes. Making sure every inch of it got attention… got touched, kissed, licked, sucked; all of it. Covering me in marks as if I were his work of art, a masterpiece he wished to display because he created it and owned it. It wasn’t always a frantic fuck—a mindless release but this was what made me wish more; that he would never even glance at someone else. My dark thoughts oozed out, the fact that I wanted to cage him and hide him from the others. See, I was pathetically obsessed with him.

He didn’t know the full extent of it; he knew I cared. Knew I whipped to the core but he didn’t know these dark thoughts because he treated me like an angel to play with.

Or the lion devouring the lamb.

And this lamb wasn’t going to expose the whole truth put in the locked vault of my body, chains around it.

“Such an innocent face…” he rasped out, his pumps into me gaining even more speed suddenly. I could feel the throbbing of his cock start to grow. My eyes were somewhat half-lidded, gazing with everything at him. The shimmer of light illuminated their colors. He loved my eyes for some reason and said they expressed more than I knew. Only at this moment.

My deep subconscious thinking, ‘Yeah, innocent face hiding filthy, dark desires.’

“Darling… you’re so radiant, shining brighter than the beams of sunlight,” another rasp came out as his thumb slipped out of my mouth. My saliva coated it so he placed it near his mouth, his tongue swiping his thumb to taste the wetness I left on him.

He whispered for a moment but loud enough so I could hear, “Actually… if you were the sun itself, I’d keep staring even though I’d go blind. You’re worth looking at more than anything or anyone else.”

He would add in something like that, so randomly—his charming tricks just crashed into the open. Was it cheesy? Maybe. Yet it still made goosebumps appear on my skin and made my face start to heat up. It made me feel like I had a bloody chance, especially with how that voice sounded.

Then he swiped his tongue at it once more.

“Mnn tastes divine…” he murmured like a starved man, getting closer and closer to the edge of his release. He put that hand back on the other side of my hip; both hands firmly pinning me down to his bed more now. I squirmed because I always loved feeling his hands on me, even if they were hurting me a little.

There was a gratification in that pain.

“You are the sweetest fruit I could ever take a bite of…” his face contorting in the most wonderful form of pleasure as he poured out those words, like the silver-tongued devil he was. “You know that, right? How sweet you are… I can’t let anyone else taste it.”

The blood in my veins felt like it was ablaze, scorching my body with the heat he created.

“So warm… God—so tight…” he panted with a whine that ruined me; he struggled to speak a little as his hips were rapidly bucking in. His stamina was something else and the relentlessness of his speed, like he was a creature. But I took him well… a match to him.

My body tensed up at his continuous praises, ready to follow him in the orgasmic bliss that was about to wash over us. He could feel that I was close too as he stayed attuned to me and so, he leaned over while continuing to fuck me until I saw stars. Both of us were on the edge of spilling as his mouth planted onto mine, making this moment intimate. The bed creaked from his force, the sounds of flesh slapping and the noises our mouths made that were now muffled; consuming each other.

More like, him consuming me as I couldn’t fight his dominance.

His kiss almost felt like it was stealing my soul, searching for all the love he could find. Taking in every moan or whine out of me, his tongue plunging into my mouth—seeking the taste of the fruit he had taken bites of before, exploring deeply. Sometimes he’d pull my tongue out a bit so he could suck on it then resume kissing me more sweetly after. That made me feel like I was on cloud nine. That made me writhe underneath him as butterflies filled my stomach with the way he worked on me.

Then the bite would come, nibbling my bottom lip then sinking those teeth harder in, tugging to make tears slip out of me. Tears that I didn’t mind giving because I was in ecstasy.

“Sebastian…” I choked out, barely sounding normal at all and his body shook.

My eyes rolled back as his cock hit that special spot and let go. He moved his face away, letting my bottom lip go—throwing back his head as his jaw clenched & he let out a guttural groan, “fucking hell… f-fuck… love.”

He had exploded inside of me… copious amounts of his cum filling me; his cock twitching in the contentment of his climax. He collapsed on top of me instantly due to the quantity, almost squishing me and keeping that strong grip on my hips. My hands had gripped his arms sometime between it all, now shaking.

‘Love,’ why did he have to call me that now? It wasn’t fair. I cried out loudly, finding my finish as well as my whole body arched into his despite him pressing me into the bed. I think I was convulsing beneath him; more tears streaming down my face.

His hips still stuttered and mindlessly rutted a bit until he was completely spent. My limbs went numb, loosening… the pants of us both being the only sound as silence filled. Rapid breaths as our flesh stuck together, unwilling to separate much at all.

He didn’t speak nor did I. He didn’t move out of me… he would stay there for a while & hide his face in the crook of my neck once he started calming. I would lay there, letting this temporary warmth he gave me… stay with me as if it was all mine. As if we were going to be this way forever. As if HE was mine.

This game we play… he plays, has to come to an end, eventually. I know that. This sweet torment he puts me through. The words that make him sound as if he’s a poet trying to romance me with the intention of what I silently weep for. As if he cares about keeping the heart he has captured.

For a moment, he gazes at me with something unreadable, making my heart feel like it’s swelling. Hope gnaws at me quietly… ‘Why is he looking at me like that?’ but hope was a cruel bitch. Promising falsity in fools like me; I wouldn’t fall for it, I would shake it off and he would look away.

He doesn’t love me. He never will.

No amount of prayers can cure my addiction; as he was the drug that I kept taking. The sweetened poison I kept letting sink into me.

I wasn’t a devil but I was ugly inside too.

But my love for him was real, unyielding. Scorching my soul in its wake, fast to undo me because loving him was agony.

The unspoken words… the words of love, the deepest of my desires, the raw ones that weren’t so innocent—suffocating me each day but very slowly. Making sure I experience the most pitiful of deaths. But he knew because of those smirks and gazes he gave… he knew, deep down. Still, I tried to masquerade as a fool ignorant of my intense feelings. Parading around like he didn’t have me wrapped around his finger, that it wasn’t painfully obvious.

Does he know I’m dying? How many times has he looked at me and not realized, it’s killing me, or maybe he did—I wasn’t a mind reader. Even though I had the opportunity to try. Can that one spell satisfy me?

Maybe he was the beautiful reaper, his actions were the scythe.

Why can’t I understand him?

And why did he look at me now… with mysterious eyes for that moment? Eyes full of something.

I’m in hell but I can’t hate it.

“It’s oddly exquisite.”

I am considering a second fanfic to this; in which it will Sebastian’s POV? But not sure. Would be a new challenge for me…

And yes, this was uploaded on my other (now deleted) account.

Pls correct me if you see errors, ty.

[creature-wizard]

So, I just read It's Not Impossible: Healing from Ritual Abuse and Mind Control by Svali.

For those who don't know, Svali is a conspiracy theorist who popped up in the early 2000s claiming to be a former Illuminati/New World Order programmer. Her claims are based on the stuff put out by the likes of Mark Phillips/Cathy O'Brien and Fritz Springmeier/Cisco Wheeler, which in turn derives from stuff like The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion, blood libel, witch panic, Michelle Remembers, and Alexander Hislop's anti-Catholic conspiracy theories. It's full of your typical Project Monarch psychological pseudoscience that can effectively be used to blame literally any symptom or behavior on programmed DID, whether or not someone actually has DID at all. It's got all the usual stuff about an alleged global cult that practices the most absurdly complicated, messy, and risky forms of mind control instead of just using the regular ol' indoctrination and manipulation tactics that work just fine for your more typical authoritarian assholes.

She is regarded as a ritual abuse/alter programming expert by people such as Ellen Lacter and Alison Miller, and if you search through the citations on many ritual abuse/RAMCOA websites, you'll often find her name. If you didn't have any familiarity with Svali's outlandish claims before, I think after reading this you'll agree that no sensible person should ever be citing her as an authority on anything. Here are some of the weird and ridiculous claims she makes in this book:

Fetuses are tortured and programmed in the womb. They are capable of making choices presented to them in-utero. (Yes, according to Svali, fetuses can fully understand language and process questions.)

Children can be forced to forget things by threatening them with death if they don't. (Literally not how memory works. If anything, death threats would make it harder to forget.)

Toddlers are trained as assassins and sent to kill wealthy targets, because wealthy people tend to have, shall we say, a predilection for children. (Yes, some wealthy people are child molesters. But claiming they're all into this as a group is absurd. It's also two antisemitic conspiracy theory tropes with the serial numbers filed off.)

Alice In Wonderland programming includes games of croquet where the balls are the decapitated heads of children. (Always with the absurdly over-the-top programming methods.)

The conspiracy programs people from birth to have a visceral fear and hatred of Christianity. (The function of this claim is to deny the traumatic impact of Christian religious abuse.)

"Many occultic groups" hate Israel and aim to destroy its national security through infiltration. (Of course we're going to get Christian Zionism in this conspiracy theory.)

"Higher occultic groups" round up Christians "from prisons and camps in third world countries under oppressive regimes" to torture and crucify them. (Typical oppression fantasy of white American Christian conservatives.)

Genetically enhanced individuals were first produced in the 1940s. (Quite unlikely, given that DNA's role in inheritance wasn't even determined until 1943.)

Claims that "The Light of The World" is an occultic painting that depicts the Antichrist. (Actually, it just depicts Christ.)

Theta systems are trained to psychically kill from the time they're in the womb. Theta assassins have sex with the target, then use the resulting soul tie to demonically kill them. (You know you're into some deep far right shit when they're talking about "soul ties" like this.)

Chi is a demonic power. (Always with the racism.)

Kabbalah is used to open portals to install demons. (And of course, the antisemitism.)

Druids can shapeshift into animals and trees. (This is how druids work in modern RPGs.)

Mages can shapeshift into various animals. (So many occultists WISH this was true!)

Cult children are genetically enhanced for intelligence. (Meanwhile in the real world, not a single alleged survivor has ever demonstrated said intelligence.)

Saturn, Prometheus, and Vulcan are demonic deities. (Pure religious bigotry here.)

Mothers of genetically enhanced fetuses are brutally tortured and gradually dismembered throughout the entire pregnancy. Supposedly, miscarriage is prevented with the cult's "state-of-the-art technology" that's "at least 50-75 years ahead of what's publicly known."

Supposedly, "all videos, CDs, computer games and other digital media now have subliminals embedded, that are fed at 0.03 microseconds." She claims that you can't pause the video to see the message because the images will be blurry, as they're only visible when the media moves. How very convenient, Svali. (By the way, conspiracy theorists have been claiming media is full of dangerous subliminal messages for years, programming children to turn into mass murderers and whatnot. So far there is zero evidence that rock music turns you into a killer.)

Direct quote, "It is amazing how desensitized our population has become to sex, violence and the occult due to this mind control technology that sits in everyone's living room." (Literally your old-time Satanic Panic rhetoric.)

Direct quote, "I personally believe that we are very close to the “end times” of Revelations, and that the Occultic messiah (or antichrist) is alive." (Always with the End Times mythology with these people.)

Yeah, so this is one of the people that therapists pushing this idea that alter programming is a real thing regard as an authority. They're citing a far right conspiracy theorist who claims toddler assassins are sent to kill wealthy targets and that druids can actually turn themselves into trees.

I'd like to reiterate here that the type of alter programming people like Svali claim exist is not something there was ever any real evidence for, and the whole idea originated among conspiracy theorists. This was not a case of something that actually existed just being co-opted by bad faith actors. It is very literally a witch hunt, and one way we know this is that the early modern mythology of satanic witches and today's mythology of alter programming use many of the exact same tropes. And we also know that people can be coached into confabulating memories of events that never took place (you can see very obvious examples of this yourself here and here).

None of this is to say that human trafficking, sex abuse, religious abuse, institutional abuse, and so on aren't real; they very much are. But the kind of stuff that people like Svali push is not, and it's so full of pseudoscience and far right bigotry that it will harm survivors of extreme abuse even more. The function of this mythology, and the quack psychiatry that goes along with it, is to push people into hyperconservative Christianity and scapegoat the religious trauma it causes.

[moutainrusing]

keeper

730 words, no warnings, @dorlenemicroficprompts

“Morning, love.” Marlene heard Dorcas’s voice in front of her, just as she was mid-yawn with sleep sticking to her lashes.

Flushing in embarrassment, Marlene quickly shut her mouth and rubbed her eyes. “Um, hi,” she stuttered.

Dorcas smiled in amusement, “Happy Valentine’s,” and presented Marlene with a gift, to which Marlene gaped at her, mouth opening and closing as she decided on which thought to voice first.

Eventually, she settled on, “I fucking love you,” and threw her arms around Dorcas.

“Hmph,” Dorcas jumped in surprise, moving the gift out of the way and wrapping her other arm around Marlene. “Careful,” she mumbled into Marlene’s hair. “You’ll break the jar.”

Marlene withdrew from the hug with a raised eyebrow, hands still on Dorcas’s shoulders. “So I can’t hug you because you care more about a jar than me?”

Dorcas shrugged jokingly, lips curving upwards, “I mean, you forgot it was Valentine’s, didn’t you?”

Marlene spluttered indignantly, “No!” And then sheepishness took over her offence as she remembered, “Well, I mean… Valentine’s isn’t as important to me as you are and I think we should celebrate us everyday.” As an afterthought, she added, “Sorry for forgetting…”

“S’okay,” Dorcas shook her head fondly, pulling Marlene back into a hug. “I don’t think it’s important either, I just wanted to give you something funny.”

Marlene grinned, taking the jar from Dorcas. “I love it, and I will,” she laughed, eyes scanning the words, ‘EAT ME, HOT STUFF,’ written across a jar of harissa, a North African chilli pepper paste which Marlene adored. She remembered trying couscous at Dorcas’s house, and the Meadowes had mixed it with this extraordinary paste, hitting Marlene’s taste buds exquisitely, burning the back of her throat and leaving a herbal sensation sticking to her tongue, garlic and citrus and smoky pepper, a thick, smooth then crunchy texture between her teeth, cumin and coriander seeds bursting against the walls of her mouth, as if she were containing some fiery explosion within herself.

Dorcas’s mum had shown her how to make it, pounding the ingredients to a paste by hand, even allowing Marlene to try each ingredient on its own to see how the flavours came together. Then with Dorcas’s dad, Marlene had created several dishes all using their beloved harissa, a gift from mother nature and Earth, and now from Dorcas, her world.

“Thank you,” Marlene injected sincerity into every letter. She’d been missing harissa since the week she’d visited Dorcas over Christmas break, like she could feel it lingering in the air but just out of reach from her tongue. Harissa gave her the same kick that kissing Dorcas did, and that was really saying something. Oh, and kissing Dorcas after eating harissa! Best thing ever. Tasting her favourite food on the tongue of her lover.

Dorcas pressed a chaste kiss to Marlene’s lips, gone as soon as she was there, the soft whisper of, “Anything for you,” fading into the air. Marlene wanted to repeat the sentiment back to Dorcas, but then Dorcas was back to conversational, saying, “Your last class today is Arithmancy, right? I’ll meet you there,” Dorcas nodded with a wink, walking back to the Slytherin table as Marlene stared at her back in awe.

Dorcas had given her the best Valentine’s gift. Dorcas was the best. Dorcas remembered what class she had last. Dorcas was the best. Even though Dorcas’s last class was Potions, with quite a journey to Arithmancy, Dorcas was still meeting Marlene there. Dorcas was the best.

From beside her, having watched the whole interaction, Lily nudged Marlene. “She’s a keeper!” she whisper-yelled into Marlene’s ear with a sing-song lilt.

- - -

“Marlene!” Sirius squawked in horror. “Are you putting chilli paste onto your toast?!”

“Yup,” Marlene beamed, the entirety of her breakfast coated in a thick layer of harissa. She inhaled it blissfully, and smirked at Sirius, “Only people made of hot stuff can handle it.”

Sirius scowled, grumbling at his weak spice tolerance. “I am hot stuff,” he argued. “Remus gave me this for Valentine’s day.” He held up a scented candle with the words, ‘BLOW ME, HOT STUFF,’ written across it.

From the top of his cup of tea, Remus met Marlene’s eyes and smiled lightly, confirming that he and Dorcas collaborated over gift ideas. Marlene snorted, then almost choked on the burning sensation of harissa in her nostrils.

(for more: dorlene microfics)

[lunarharp]

wip thing...

of my bg3 avatar hellebore. i also did some casual nude studies of my 3 characters which i'll put under a cut... rather unlike me after all. (so WARNING for abrupt non-sexual full Artistic nudity lol...,,,,) (< won't be making a habit of this)

they mean the world to me

[selfcontainedunivcrse]

my little guys. Cion and Vwoop have a weird relationship. He's inserted himself into the Vwoop + Seren family dynamic and kind of exists to be Right. He's not really considering the actual effect that he has on Vwoop and is trying to get one over on Ren. he fufills a very expository / narrator role to me. Vwoop believes what he says.

[delightfullygiddy]

Thinks about the fact that the world’s natural economy has been so damaged and decayed that topsoil is not as rich as it naturally could be and that trees of great heights and weights are dwindling or nearly completely gone. Realizes that the closest connection i’ll have to seeing the a glimpse of the natural word’s grandness may soon just be in pictures and videos.

[hecksupremechips]

Replaying p3 is such a frightening experience because it forces me to remember Ikutski is a real character that exists

[fortunately-bi]

...... If I went on a hiatus for who knows how long again would y'all hate me....... 👉👈