#rion writes

[spiderispunk]

Just thinking about how Peter would totally hump the bed while he eats you out I mean what 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Pairing: Peter Parker x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Smut [18+]. Oral Sex (F!Receiving). Multiple Orgasms. Pussy Drunk!Peter. Praise Kink. Dirty Talk.

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble HELP!

“Fuck, baby,” Peter groans from between your legs. He pulls away from your dripping cunt to suck down a lungful of air. 

He’d been between your thighs for the better part of forty minutes, licking, kissing, and sucking you all over. His movements teasing at first, the faintest suck of his lips against your clit, a barely-there press of his tongue between your folds. Then frenzied, urged by the hot twist of desire in his gut as he listened to the heady pleas and whimpers that dripped from your lips like saccharine honey. 

The first time you came, it was with a choked whimper of Peter’s name. The second time, a scream had wrenched its way out of your throat. The third time you nearly blacked out. Now Peter was well on his way to earning a fourth, with no sign of stopping. 

He looks absolutely sinful framed by your thighs. Dark curls a mess from your fingers. Cheeks flushed red. Spit and cum cover his swollen lips and chin in a glaze. The heavy-lidded look he gives you is lewd. A wicked grin spread over his face, a quick flash of teeth. Hickory eyes dance with mischief, and the shadow of something darker. 

Greed. Maybe even…pride.

If he looked like sin, you looked downright sacrilegious. Fucked out, yet still wanting. Hair a mess, lips parted, eyes wild. Your shirt rucked up over your heaving breasts. Bite marks and bruises covering your skin. 

It just made him want to wreck you all over again. 

“Look at ya, honey,” Peter mumbles, the words slurred. He presses opened-mouthed kisses up and down your inner thigh. 

The scrape of his beard against your soft, sensitive skin makes you shudder. “Pete,” you whine, your voice equally wrecked. 

“Hm?” His grin widens. “Something you want?” His gaze burns into yours. 

You nod, and Peter clicks his tongue. 

“Use your words, sweetheart.”  

“Please.” 

“Please what?”

“Want your mouth on me.” 

Peter raises his eyebrows. “Again? Greedy girl.” His voice is infuriatingly smug.

“It’s s’good.” You bite your bottom lip as Peter bites your thigh. He chases the sting away with gentle swipes of his tongue. 

Peter chuckles. “You really know how to stroke a man’s ego, baby.” He presses a gentle kiss to your sensitive clit. “But, since you asked so nicely…” 

Large hands grip your thighs and pull you back to his face. His lips wrap around your clit, tongue flicking as he sucks gently. His eyelids flutter shut at the taste of you. Peter moans and groans, each needy sound he makes muffled by your pussy. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder to open you up more to his mouth. 

“You taste so fucking good, baby. Fuck. Could stay like this, with my mouth on you, forever.” 

Before meeting you, Peter never knew what it was like to really crave something. To want something so badly– all the time– that when you couldn’t have it you felt like a piece of you was missing. But then, he got on his knees and buried his face between your pretty thighs for the first time. Now he doesn’t know how he ever lived without that before. 

He’s addicted to you. Simple as that. Fixation pure and raw. To the taste of your cunt. To the way your hips rock and your thighs tremble when you’re getting close. The way you sigh and moan when his mouth is on you. The sharp pain of his hair being tugged between your eager fingers. All of it.  

He can never get enough of it. 

Peter’s fingers dig into your thighs, nails biting shallow crescents into the skin. He licks you up and down, savoring the taste of the three prior orgasms. He swears he can taste the beginnings of the impending fourth.

His tongue slides into your entrance, thrusting in and out as if he’s trying to bury himself in you however he can. You’re gushing on his face, uninhibited. Each slide of his tongue brings a new wave of wetness. 

His nose nudges against your clit, and he inhales deeply. God you smell so fucking good. 

“Oh shit,” you whine. You thread your fingers through his hair, using your grip as leverage to rock your hips up against his mouth. “Don’t stop. Fuck, that’s it, Peter. God.” 

Your praise is music to his fucking ears. It makes his cock twitch in his sweatpants. He thrusts his hips, desperate for some relief from the ache that’s been building for almost an hour. He groans at the friction, eyes rolling into the back of his head. 

It feels so good. No. Hopped up as he is on desire and the warmth of your pussy, it feels like fucking heaven. 

He sneaks a hand down past the waistband of his sweatpants to squeeze his cock. Precum beads at the head of it, staining his sweats. Fuck, he could come in his pants, like a damn teenager, just from this. From you. 

Lewd noises fill the room. Mingled moans and sighs of pleasure. The frenzied smack of his lips against your pussy. And now, the creak of bed springs as Peter thrusts wantonly into the soft mattress. 

You’re floating on Cloud 9. Body humming with the tell-tale signs of your orgasm creeping up on you. Whimpers fall from your lips freely, your chest heaves. Your thighs tighten around Peter’s head, holding him in place as you chase the high that’s floating above you, just a breath away. 

“Look at me,” Peter pulls away for just a moment. “C’mon, baby. Look. Watch me make you feel good.” 

It takes all your remaining strength to slide your eyes to his. They’re intense. Almost black with lust. 

You hold his scorching gaze, let the fire in his eyes burn into your soul, spread through your blood and render your body to ashes. 

Peter wraps his lips around your clit once more, head moving side to side, and it’s all over. You come with a wail, hips bucking and thrashing. He wraps an arm around your waist and holds you in place, wedged against his lips. Determined to drink down every last drop that you give to him. Wanting to drown in your perfect pussy.

Your back arches off of the bed. Ecstasy shooting through every inch of your body. Your heartbeat thrums loudly in your ears, so loudly that you almost don’t hear Peter’s panting as he himself comes undone. 

But you do. Amidst the stilted exhales, you hear the quiet mumbling of your name. 

Peter’s hips rock faster. So close to the glorious edge he can feel the tingling in his lower stomach. His shoulders flex under his shirt, biceps curling, and then his whole body tenses. Peter lets out a strangled cry. And then he comes. Hard. Like really, earth shatteringly, hard. His entire world flips upside down with the intensity of it. 

Five minutes pass before he’s able to string together a coherent thought, and when he finally can, his first thought is of you. 

“Hey, baby,” he whispers, pillowing his head on your thigh. “You okay?” 

“Uh huh.” More than okay. “Fucked out and tired, but okay. C’mere.”

He forces his jellied limbs to move, and crawls so he’s resting on top of you. You swipe your thumb over his bottom lip, playing with the evidence of your arousal. 

A grin spreads over your face. “You made a mess.” 

“Drove me fucking wild. Couldn’t help it.” Peter smirks. “Wanna taste?”

You kiss him stupid in response. 

[rion-isnot-an-ai]

Arashi and Daisuke's backstory

(most of it-)

+ a couple very lazy drawings to go along with it (protip: look at them the way you would a manga)

Warning: death and blood, terrible writing

Arashi peeked out the window as the sun began to slowly crawl towards the horizon. His little brother Daisuke stood beside him, as always. The kid barely went anywhere else, unless Arashi accompanied him. To Arashi, it was more adorable than anything, he was 11 years old but clinged onto his brother like a baby.

“Arashi!” Came his mother’s voice. “Can you go to the river and get water? Your aunt and I need to start dinner soon.”

“Sure thing, mother!” Arashi called back. He turned to Daisuke. “You coming, kid?” 

Daisuke nodded and followed Arashi towards the front door. He slid it open and walked out. Arashi headed to the side of the house where two buckets sat. He picked them up and handed one to Daisuke. “Will you be able to carry water on your own?”

Daisuke took the bucket. “Of course I can.”

“Sure thing, little brother.” Arashi smiled and pat his head. 

Their mother leaned out of the door. “Come back soon, okay? And keep your brother safe.” 

“You’re the boss!” Arashi responded, smiling.

They walked down the path surrounded by vibrant green trees. The orange glow of the setting sun rested on the leaves, creating a nice warm atmosphere.

Daisuke bounced down the path beside Arashi, the bucket held above his head. 

Arashi chuckled. “What’s got you so excited?”

“I like the river.” Daisuke answered. “I like catching frogs and the fireflies are pretty.”

Arashi smiled. “Frogs, huh? Don’t kiss any, okay?”

Daisuke made a face and Arashi laughed.

They arrived at the river and Arashi knelt down by the water. Daisuke did the same. 

“Copy what I do, alright?” Arashi said to Daisuke and brought the bucket into the river, filling it. Once the water was collected, Arashi sat back and looked up at the sky. The sun was almost completely gone by now. He looked at Daisuke. “Do you want to run around for a bit? I’m sure you’ve got time.”

Daisuke smiled and ran off.

 “Don’t go too far!” Arashi warned.

A few minutes later, Daisuke came back, cupping something in his hands. Arashi raised an eyebrow. “Whatcha got there, kiddo?”

Daisuke opened his hands and a moth fluttered out and flew away into the tall grass. Arashi smiled. “That’s new. Nice catch!”

Stars started forming in the sky. Arashi stood up and grabbed the water. “Come on, let’s go, I don’t want mother to get too upset.”

“Okay!” Daisuke said, grabbing the other water bucket and following Arashi as he walked towards the path. 

They slowly made their way to the house, the cold night air gently blowing around them. Arashi felt like something was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. It was quiet. Something that was unusual, especially with all his siblings and cousins that lived in the house. 

Arashi looked around, all the crickets and owls were silent. He looked back at Daisuke and offered a small smile. He smiled back. 

Arashi walked to the door and put one of the water buckets down to open it. His hand hovered over it for a moment then he pulled it open.

Arashi’s eyes widened. He dropped the water and his hand shot in front of Daisuke’s eyes, covering them.

“B-big brother? What’s wrong?” Daisuke asked nervously.

Arashi didn’t respond as he looked in horror at the bloody corpses of his family scattered across the floor of the house. He could make out the body of his father, protectively covering his two little sisters. But the rest of the bodies were too mutilated to be able to tell who they were. 

Arashi tried to even his breath out. Stay calm, stay calm, get Daisuke out of here…. Arashi told himself. 

“Keep your eyes closed, Daisuke…” Arashi said, his voice faltering. 

“What happened, big brother…?” Daisuke whispered. 

“Don’t worry” Was all Arashi was able to mutter. He gently nudged Daisuke to face the other direction. “Just walk to the village, come on, brother.” 

Arashi slowly guided Daisuke away from the massacre. A million thoughts ran through his mind: What happened? Was it a bear? Another person? We weren’t even gone long…what would have happened if we got home any earlier? 

Daisuke made a small sound which made Arashi freeze. “What? What’s wrong?” Arashi asked frantically.

Daisuke pointed ahead, where a tall figure of a man stood, facing them. Arashi immediately stepped in front of Daisuke. “Who are you? What do you want?” Arashi yelled at the man. He had a menacing aura that was overwhelming for Arashi.

The man stepped closer, but something was off about his appearance. He had unusually pale skin, clawed fingers and his eyes bore a strange kanji, but it was difficult for Arashi to read in his panicked state.

Arashi stared up at the man. “Get away…” 

He ignored Arashi. “Looks like two of you are still alive.”

Suddenly, Arashi felt a flash of pain across his face and blood streaming down his cheeks. He yelled out in pain.

Arashi heard the frightened cry of Daisuke and he spun around. He could make out through the blood the shape of the man coming closer to his little brother. 

“Get away from him!” Arashi screamed, jumping in front of Daisuke right as the demon was about to strike. The man paused, then smiled.

“I like your determination. I think you’d make a good demon.” 

Arashi froze. “What are you-” Before he could finish, Arashi felt a wave of dizziness and he swayed to the side. Before he knew it, the world went dark.

                 _•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_

Arashi opened his eyes. He didn’t know how long he had passed out, but he could see the moon high above him in the sky. He looked around as his eyes adjusted. Then it hit him, the strong smell of human blood. Arashi felt a rush of hunger overcome him and he stood up.

He stood up and began going towards the large house where the scent was coming from.

Arashi inched close but then he stopped when he felt someone grab his arm. “Arashi…” Came Daisuke’s weak voice. “…where are you going..?” 

Arashi snapped out of his trance and turned around. Arashi’s blood ran cold as he saw the blood all over his little brother. “…D-Daisuke? Are you hurt!? What happened?!” He demanded, grabbing his shoulders.

Daisuke jumped. “I-I’m okay! I’m just scared…”

Arashi sighed and looked down. “I'm so glad you’re alive…” Arashi trailed off when he saw the claws on Daisuke’s fingers…just like their attacker. “What the hell…”

Daisuke looked even more worried. “…I-I woke up like this…I’m sorry.”

Arashi sighed. “It’s not your fault, kid. I just think we need to get out of here.”

“But-“ Daisuke started but Arashi cut him off. “We can’t stay. Something’s wrong and I need to get you out of danger.”

Arashi looked around, thinking about his next move. He stared towards his home. He couldn’t just leave his family’s bodies laying there. They needed a proper burial. 

Arashi stood up. “Come on Daisuke.” He said quietly as he walked to the house. He had to shake off the hungry feeling multiple times as he carefully dug graves and buried his family. 

He knelt down in front of them and said a prayer, and Daisuke did the same.

Arashi stood up and looked up at the sky. The moon was going down. Something in the back of his mind told him not to stay until morning. 

Daisuke got up as well, he looked nervous. “Where will we go…?” He asked

Arashi smiled comfortingly. “Don’t worry, your brother will figure it out.” He pointed at himself. “Trust me, okay?” Arashi tried to put his casual and playful expression back on, but internally he was full of anxiety and fear for his brother. They were lucky to have become like this instead of being killed. He remembered the thing that did this to them…he mentioned demons. That was probably what was happening.

Arashi took Daisuke’s hand. “Alright, let’s get out of here, I have a feeling we shouldn’t stay until sunrise.” 

Arashi sighed and walked with his brother into the shadowy forest.

End

Maybe I'll make a second part if I feel like I need to

Any suggestions on who the upper moon who attacked them should be? :>

[akq96618]

[ king ohger oc ]

i think i should make a proper post abt them, so here it is!

(thx a lot to @ponopyonq for reading my rambles about them, i keep doubting myself to post them but i got encouraged by you ;-; ily bro)

------

Selen (Selen Idmonarak ne Brasieri Hastie)

-Son of Gira and Jeramie -his name based from Selenopidae (wall crab spiders), i love how it's eyes described as 'resemble the moon'

-calls jeramie by papa and gira by toto (shorts of otou-san, but as he grow up he called gira by otou-san)

-everyone's friend <3

-spent most of his time at shugoddam, but sometimes he visited bugnarak cave.

-loves reading encyclopedia, esp. about animals and insects

-his bugnarak hand can't shoot spiderweb, but he's agile and good at climbing

-also good at hiding (either his feelings or hiding for hide and seek-)

-jeramie's bedtime story is his favorite, especially story of the ohsama sentai

-his close friends are buun (as his right hand) and diabolica (pao's oc!!!)

brief idea of selen here!

Takane (Takane Dybowski-Hastie)

-Daughter of Racles and Suzume

-her name based from takane-ruri kuwagata (platycerus sue imura)

-Older twin

-truly women of toufu

-nobody knows what's inside her mind (except Mitsuba)

-she has no interest on being king or succesor

-she pursued medical studies at ishabana instead

-calls everyone by '-chan' (selen---ren-chan, mitsuba---micchan, rion--ricchan)

-friends with Rion. Since they shared the same interest on fashion

Mitsuba (Mitsuba Dybowski-Hastie )

-Son of Racles and Suzume

-His name based from Mitsubachi (honeybee)

-Younger twin

-admires his father and sometimes help his job as chikyuu's 'tool'

-mitsuba and takane calls racles by otou-sama and suzume by okaa-sama

-loves to eat, but never gained a lot of weight

-kaguragi's student, maybe soon to be succesor

-really excel at talking and persuade others, esp. after being kagu's student

-Selen is like a little brother to him, not just his cousin

-pretty chill and not as energetic as his twin sister, but he'll show his scary side to those who disrespect his family (including those who badmouthed selen and giramie)

brief ideas of hastie-dybowski twins here!

Rion

-Yanma's pupil -go by they/them

-their name based from coenagrion puella (azure damselfly)

-around the same age as dybowski-hastie twins

-for some reasons, the Nkosopaz raised them since they're 6 yrs old and Yanma took them as his pupil

-their relationship with yanma is kinda like yanma and gin. Sometimes they'd fight, but Rion respect him a lot, actually

-closest to shiokara and usuba

-only use honorifics to shiokara

-actually they don't really care abt their gender, ("what's important is being the coolest ever and aiming to the top!!!!" -rion, perhaps)

-even if with no shugod soul, they create their own shugod for transportation (it's a damselfly, ofc)

-had a crush on mitsuba-

lol they're fun to draw

also last one, their dynamic chart! (?)

[galedekarios]

it’s still so... hm. i'm not sure what words to use here tbh.

but to give the one character that has received such preferential treatment through early access development and full release even more new content + new lines even though he already has a wealth of scenes, detailed animations, incredible world responsiveness, that about totals to having a third more content than everyone else...

all the while the other characters, their romances, their stories and the way the world they're in reacts to them are still either a barren wasteland or bugged to the point they can’t be triggered.

[wizardsix]

honestly i think it was a mistake to add halsin and minthara to the companion pool bc like.... if your main characters are lacking in personality and story, there is absolutely no reason to pile on more work and add more characters who don't add anything. and seeing how they both barely have any content or are bugged, it was a complete waste to prioritize them over wyll.

there's better posts out there going into detail, I'm just venting here, but overall wyll could've been so important to the main plot. he's the goddamn son of the duke of baldur's gate. he's literally connected to the city we're trying to save (or destroy).... like how is it that even the emperor has more depth than wyll's story? even during his quest in wyrmway, it just happens to be about the emperor and wyll is treated as a side character. he's supposed to be one of the main characters, a fucking origin character, and yet he's treated like an inconsequential hireling by the devs throughout the entire game (and dont get me started on people/the devs downplaying his trauma... but no one makes jokes about ast*rions trauma. very professional).

I would much rather have a few fleshed out companions than a massive pool of lifeless bethesda npcs. hell, I'd sacrifice all romance if it meant the main characters were actually well developed. and as much as I enjoy the side companions, I swear it even feels like minsc and jaheira have more involvement in the main story than wyll does. it's just not a good look and it's so frustrating that this keeps happening. I need devs to grow a spine and commit to their work, because if you don't care enough about a character to give it your all, then don't even bother trying. people can tell when media is half-assed. wyll deserved better.

[blackjackkent]

Letter prompts - any or all!

Minsc to Hector

Lae'zel to Gale

Rion to Karlach

Shadowheart to Isobel and Aylin

Nine Fingers to Jaheira

(Letter fic prompts!)

TY as always for the prompts, friend! <3 Sorry it took a bit to get them done, but I did all of them bc I loved the ideas so much. XD

-----

(Minsc to Hector - a note scribbled on a crumpled piece of parchment with one corner slightly chewed off. Left on Hector's bedside table in the Elfsong, three hours before dawn on the cold, rainy morning before the battle with the Netherbrain.)

My friend! 

Do not fear to find Minsc’s bunk empty when you wake; know that I have gone ahead to clear the path! The sewers that stand between us and our wrinkly foe are well known to Minsc and Boo, and we shall see to it that they are well-scrubbed of evil that might hinder us in our final journey. A fine tale it would make for us to travel towards a battle for the world's fate and be delayed by a passing bandit!

Should we have no further time to speak before all is chaos, Boo wishes you to know you have been a fine companion, a hero to rank high among all those he has traveled with. And Minsc would say the same, though Minsc does not juggle words with Boo’s skill. 

Boo and I have traveled across many years in an instant, and much has changed. We did not think to find a company with which we could feel heroes again, not least after Minsc was made a puppet of the Absolute’s worm.  With Jaheira, with you, Minsc has remembered what it is to be alive, to fight for goodness, and this city's every shadow trembles to know it. 

Though evil brings the brain, Hector and his friends shall bring the brawn! And Minsc is proud to be among them!

(signed with the letter M and a very small pawprint in ink)

-----

(Lae'zel to Gale - a note carved in the spiraling gith script into a large flat rock, lacking the fine materials of true githyanki slate, written in camp deep in the Underdark.)

When you can read this, you may consider yourself a true scholar worthy of the secrets of githyanki magic. Until then, cease your inane questioning of matters far beyond your appreciation; my time is better spent in recuperation than in the education of overambitious istik.

A note is attached to the rock, written in Common in careful, precise handwriting: Ever so sorry to disappoint you, my dear sa’varsh, but my inane questioning shall continue unabated. I do, however, thank you for the opportunity to reacquaint myself with Comprehend Languages! I so rarely get a chance to turn that one out for a bit of exercise.

Below these words on the note is scribbled a considerably less meticulous tir’su spiral scrawled in ink: That is *not* what I meant, and you know it, kainyank.

-----

(Rion to Karlach - a note sent by standard post to the Elfsong, several days after the party's visit to Elerrathin's Home.)

Karlach,

You're kidding me - you're Pluck Cliffgate's kid? I carried messages for him now and again; he talked about you plenty, and I did see you once, maybe seven years old, darting all over the Wide like a little hurricane. Small world, I guess. Odd to think that I’m more or less the same and you’ve shot up to be taller than I am. Elf blood’s a funny thing.

I know you’re hoping for exciting stories about growing up with the High Harper but the truth is I don’t have much to offer. She wasn’t any kind of “heroic adventurer” to me - she was just Mother, and she never much liked to talk about the past, not even about my father. I heard more about her from bards in taverns than I ever heard from her own mouth - and some of it I wish I could scrub back out of my brain. 

You ever hear a bawdy called “The Harper’s Head”? Yeah, now imagine that was your mum they were singing about. Awful.

She was good to us, though, in her own way. I know you saw me bite her head off and her bite mine right back; that’s just how we’ve always been. But she saw to it I grew up strong, that I knew how to fight, and how to keep my head down when the time called for it. Harper things, mostly, even though I don’t think she ever wanted me to be one. 

She taught me how to take no shit, too. Her mistake, because now I don’t take hers either. But I think she’d rather that than otherwise.

After a while, the other kids just started drifting in - first for a meal here or there, then a bed, then before you knew it, this was their home. Another one in the pack. It’s strange, really. I always knew deep down - even when I was a kid who didn’t have words for it yet, just knew it was confusing and it hurt - that part of her really wanted to be back on the road, not tied down with us in this mess of a city. But somehow every time one of us moved out, she’d found another to bring in, almost like clockwork.

I think she’s been looking for something, all this time. But I don’t think she knows what it is, any more than I do, or what she’d do with it if she found it. 

Not an exciting story, like all the tales you’ve heard. But it’s truth; I can tell you that much.

It probably won’t surprise you that I haven’t had a message from her since you left. But you can tell her I’m off to the refugee camp in the morning. We’ll hold our end of things, and see they’re taken care of. Take care of that bloody brain, and maybe I’ll find a better story to tell when you’re done.

Rion

-----

(Shadowheart to Aylin (and Isobel by proxy); several conjoined messages by a series of Sending spells, dispatched from somewhere on the edge of Waterdeep) 

> Aylin… your mother's house is beautiful. I never imagined such a place. It's… foolish, perhaps, but I wanted to let you know I've seen it. 

> I still carry the spear with me. Once dark, now light. Like me. Still surprised you didn't crack us both across your knee like Lorroakan. 

> You gave me a second chance. I hadn't earned it; I wanted to kill you. The great difference between Shar and Selune. Cruelty versus mercy. 

> A lot’s happened since then. I found my parents. Shar's last joke at my expense. You were right about everything. That I had to act.

> So I'm free now. Of all of it. One day I will think of a way to repay you both for your kindness. Your wisdom. 

> I don't know what plans call you now, but should you travel near Waterdeep in the next fortnight-- OW! Yes, yes, I'll tell her, calm--

[a slight pause] 

> Please also tell Isobel that Buddy says hello. The morsels she used to slip him in camp have purchased her a permanent owlbear friend. 

-----

(Nine-Fingers to Jaheira - a note left in a dead drop at Danthelon’s in the middle of the night.)

Jaheira. You’ve GOT to call off the Rashemaar. He’s driving us all insane trying to teach us the good path; on all the gods, either I’m going to beat the hells out of him or someone else will. I don’t care what you do - take him on an adventure, lock him in the cellar, turn him into a statue again, hold the hamster for ransom. But something. Fuck’s sake.

He listens to you. Starting to think you’re the only one he does listen to. Like a pup with one master. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so infuriating.

We all want the same thing - this city safe and strong. But he’s got to learn that we don’t all go about it the same way, or sooner or later there’s going to be trouble.

Astele NF

[selfrinsert]

💤 + weiss? 👁👁

THE PINING BEGINS HEHE

Timeline: Volume 7, Episode 5

Ris threw up another shield, just in time as Weiss’ knight summon brought its sword down on it. The yellow color shield shimmered and cracked, and Ris somersaulted out of the way before it could shatter on top of them. 

They were out of color energy, they could feel it, but between Weiss darting in with her rapier and her summon swinging around its sword, they didn’t have time to absorb more. 

Ris steeled themself, angling their broadsword to protect their torso. They *had* to get rid of that summon! They loosened up, stepping around, doing a pretty damn good job of dodging and blocking, Weiss’ sword clanging off of their own. They spotted their opportunity as the summon stepped forward, and swung their weapon in a powerful, wide arc. Once the knight’s leg buckled and began to disappear, they plunged their sword upwards into its chest, the momentum of it falling making the blow even more effective. 

“Hah!” Ris panted triumphantly as the knight turned to glittering dust around them. They spun, ready to end this duel, ready to *win,* but felt their feet go out from under them, and were swiftly met with the tip of Weiss’ rapier at their throat. She smirked down at them, tilting her head ever so slightly. 

They stared at each other in a brief stalemate, before Ris rolled their eyes, propping themself up on their elbows. “Alright, alright, you win.”

“Hah!” Weiss taunted with her hands on her hips, before straightening up and sheathing her rapier. “I told you I could beat you.” She offered Ris a hand. 

Two years ago, Ris would’ve scoffed and denied. But today, they smiled and took it, allowing the ex-heiress to help pull them to their feet. “Right, right…what is that, 5 to 1?” they grinned.

“3 to 1, at best! And it won’t be long until I’ve caught up to you.” Weiss folded her arms. She was so easy to rile up, and Ris had to admit they enjoyed it just a little bit. 

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” they checked their scroll, 10 o’ clock already? “Yeesh, it’s late.”

“How did the time go by so fast?” Weiss said, also pulling out her scroll. 

Penny and the rest of team RWBY *had* left the Atlas training room awhile ago. Ris pocketed their scroll, shifting their weight from one foot to the other. They watched Weiss check her messages, tucking a bit of white hair behind her ear. They were suddenly…nervous, being alone with her. Not at all a bad feeling, but their stomach doing somersaults couldn’t be a good thing. Right?

“How about…” Ris bit their tongue, but pressed forward, “how about I walk you back to your room?” They thought she would’ve scoffed, said she could handle herself just fine, but instead she smiled.

“Thank you.”

The two walked in silence, Weiss’ hand resting on the hilt of her sword, Ris’ hands held behind their head. 

“You’re a pretty good sparring partner, you know.” Ris blurted out. “I mean, I know you said you haven’t had the best track record one on one, but you’ve got a lot of tricks up your sleeve. Keeps me on my toes.”

Weiss laughed, “Well, you’ve been pretty good practice. I think I’ve learned how to keep a single target occupied now, so they can’t deal as much damage to me.”

They arrived at team RWBY’s door, all too soon. 

“Uh, have a good night,” Ris waved, unable to wipe the goofy smile off their face. 

Weiss brought a hand up to her mouth, stifling a giggle. “Sleep well, Ris.”

“You too,” Ris called before Weiss shut the door. 

*Agh, dummy! You were too earnest!* Ris pressed their palms to their eyes.

They lay awake in their bed, the sight of Weiss tucking her hair behind her ear playing in their head over and over. 

________

Weiss hardly noticed, but she was smiling at the floor, and let out a contented sigh after the door closed behind her. 

“Well, well, well!” Ruby grinned, chin in her hands as she lay on the top bunk. 

Blake and Yang had matching grins, the former propped up in bed with a book and the latter brushing her teeth. 

“Late night with Ris, huh?” Yang teased. 

“Wha-” Weiss looked up, immediately flushed, “Not like that! We just lost track of time sparring, that’s all.”

“Suuure,” Ruby giggled. Blake laughed, holding her book up so only her eyes were showing.

“I- I can’t believe you three!” All ganging up on her like that! “Me? And Ris? You’ve *got* to be joking,” Weiss tossed her head, striding to the bathroom. 

Yang just smiled, shook her head, and put her toothbrush away, joining the other two in the room. 

Weiss stared at herself in the mirror for a moment. Her and Ris?

No, she doubted Ris felt the same sort of butterflies…and besides, she had other things to worry about. 

[ansburg]

cannot imagine getting mad about gnome racism when the main gnome cast is just like. white people who are purple

im very sorry barcus tucci but you are distracting from a serious conversation about racism in western fantasy when the slave-keeping race of dwarves overwhelmingly look like this

[inaflashimagine]

HI HI HI HI! I just wanted to ask if you could do a Nagumo fic where he falls in love with reader after they took down someone twice their size with their ridiculous strength. And literally just punched the guy out of fear, they were in a mission with Sakamoto and Rion too but reader got ambushed if that makes sense😪 BASICALLY THAT MITSURI SCENE WHERE SHE'S FIGHTING THAT UPPER MOON AND SMACK THE SHIT OUT OF THE DRAGON TREE THING if you can't do it it's ok thank you for your time :33

OMG HI A NAGUMO REQUEST??!! i feel horrible saying this but i don’t really do requests anymore😭 i love to psych myself out and i also cannot write action scenes even if my life depended on it so i don’t think i can do your request justice. i hope you can find a writer who gives it the love it deserves!!

but thanks for asking!! i have slowly been chugging along on that rion x reader x nagumo fic i swear i’ll post it at some point. hoping to talk about nagumo w you tho my latest hyperfixation has been sakadays and don’t think it’s leaving anytime soon lmao

as a peace offering i present these two sakadays fanart that have been on my mind 25/8: #1 and #2

[bitchesgate3]

mizora fans are the only safe side of the fandom for me

[spiderispunk]

return the favor

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Fem!Reader. Mentions of Pregnancy. Reader and Bradley Have A Son. Dilf!Bradley. Oral Sex (m! receiving). Dirty Talk. Domesticity. 

Summary: He’d traded flight suits and fatigues for sweatpants and a t-shirt. And despite the fact that both items of clothing tended to get covered in spit-up by the end of the day, he still managed to make them look sexy. You wanted him every time you saw him, and judging from the little smirk Bradley wore whenever he caught you staring for a beat too long, he knew it too.

A/N: Honestly, I blame @withahappyrefrain​, @ouralcohol​, and Bud Light for this. 

Little Nicholas “Nicky” Bradshaw came into the world kicking and screaming. Though he chose to make his grand entrance at around 3:30 AM on a quiet Thursday night, he was hell-bent on letting the whole world know about it. And so, with a whirlwind of forms, bills, and the shrill cries of the darling baby boy, you and Bradley were thrust into the throes of parenthood.

You both handled it well, or as well as you could for first timers. Working as a team to tackle midnight bottles, blowouts, spit-up and the frequent sleepless nights. You’d settled into an easy rhythm over the past seven weeks. Bottles every 2-3 hours. Naps in-between. Diaper changes. A little tummy-time when Nicky would tolerate it. 

Day in. Day out.

You were worried the Navy-issued twelve weeks of parental leave would make Bradley squirrely– the repetition would become tedious–but here you were more than half-way through, and you hadn’t heard him complain about a thing. 

If anything, Bradley took to the role of fatherhood eagerly. Sure, he might have missed being on base, the camaraderie, the planes, but he has other things to think about now. And he wouldn’t trade all the excitement for the joy of spending time with you and his son. 

Everyday was another milestone, and so far Bradley had been there to witness them all. 

“Nicky blinked at me today.” 

“He almost turned his head.” 

“I think I heard him try to say da-da.” 

“He drank his whole bottle!”

“Do you think he’s old enough to wear shoes yet?” 

Deeper down inside there was the growing fear of his impending absence . It wasn’t a question of if, but when . A mission would come, the phone would ring, and the goodbyes would begin. Pictures and grainy videos would stand in for the real thing.  

But he was here now, and he was determined to soak up as much as he could.   

Fatherhood suited Bradley. 

He’d traded flight suits and fatigues for sweatpants and a t-shirt. And despite the fact that both items of clothing tended to get covered in spit-up by the end of the day, he still managed to make them look sexy. 

It would be infuriating if it didn’t turn you on so damn much. Of course, it didn’t help that he’d opted to let the stubble on his chin get scruffy now that he didn’t have to comply with on-base grooming standards. 

For you, hopped up on hormones and the longing that comes with forced post-birth abstinence, it was a truly lethal combination. More than once, you’d gotten lost in your daydreams about what the coarse hair would feel like as his lips caressed your skin. Trailing down your neck, over your sensitive nipples, scratching between your thighs. 

You wanted him every time you saw him, and judging from the little smirk Bradley wore whenever he caught you staring for a beat too long, he knew it too. 

You try to push the horny thoughts to the furthest recesses of your mind, as you enjoy the quiet afternoon. It’s a rare occasion. Nicky’s nap is going longer than usual–probably because he kept you and Bradley up the entire night before–so you’re trying to relish the stillness.  

You doze on the couch, head pillowed in Bradley’s lap while he scrolls through the endless black hole of his phone. His thumb circles mindless patterns into your upper arm and shoulder. He hums quietly under his breath. 

The TV is on, David Attenborough going on and on about the ocean and all its wonderful creatures. Sleep tugs heavy on your eyelids, aided by the soothing drone of his voice, and the patch of warm sunlight that falls over you. 

You’re thinking you might finally be able to catch up on lost sleep, when a wail crackles through the baby monitor. Harsh and breathy, it shatters the silence, snapping you to attention. A hunger cry. 

You sit up, rubbing a hand over your face. “He’s due for a bottle.” You stretch your arms to the sky, groaning as the muscles in your back and shoulders stretch and loosen. “I’ll go warm one up.”

“Hey.” Bradley’s hand curls around your waist. “I got it.”

“You fed him last time,” you protest, turning to face him. “Stayed up with him for half the night, and changed his diaper three times in a row. S’not fair for you to do everything.”  

He cups your face, rubbing his thumb over your lower lip. “I got it. He’s my kid. ‘Sides you were falling asleep.”

“Bradley–”

He cuts you off with a quick kiss. “Baby. Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll take care of Nicky.”

“I’ll pay you back,” you promise, eyes not-so-subtly scanning over his body. 

Bradley chuckles. “No payment necessary.” He kisses your forehead and then your lips once more. “Get some rest, yeah?” 

You nod, and stretch back out onto the couch. Bradley pulls the crocheted throw blanket over you and, with one last smile, heads upstairs.   

The door to the nursery squeals, and then you hear his voice through the baby monitor. 

“Hey, Nicky,” Bradley whispers. “Look at you. Sleep okay, bubba? Yeah? You ready for lunch?” 

The one-sided conversation continues as Bradley changes Nicky’s diaper. He asks about Nicky’s dream, tells him some of the facts he picked up from Our Planet, and shares his latest sports predictions. 

“Your Auntie Natasha thinks the Padres have a shot this year. I told her she was crazy at first, but I might be eating my words soon.” A pause. “That means I’ll have to admit I was wrong. It’s an idiom. Your mama’s the English teacher though, she can teach you all about that later.” 

You smile dopily at his words. The easygoing way he interacts with your baby. He’d been so worried at first. Scared to fail, scared Nicky wouldn’t like him. But there was no denying the simple fact that Bradley was meant to be a father. He proved that more and more everyday.  

The steps creak as Bradley begins his descent. “Gotta be quiet, okay? Your mama’s sleepin’. Yeah, you tired her out last night.”

You hear him moving around in the kitchen and then the soft gurgling of the bottle warmer. Nicky whines impatiently, and Bradley distracts him with more stories. The effect of his words are two-fold, soothing both your baby and you. You blink sleepily, snuggled up on the couch all comfortable and warm. A few minutes later, aided by the hush of Bradley’s voice, you fall into sweet unconsciousness. 

When you wake later, the room is wrapped in shadows. The once bright sunlight has started to dim. You swallow thickly, tasting stale breath. Your body aches from sleeping in the cramped space, limbs still heavy with sleep. 

You reach for your phone sitting face down on the coffee table. The screen is bright in the dark room. You squint to make out the round numbers. 5:52 . Fuck. You’d been asleep for hours . 

“Babe!” You call out. “Why’d you let me sleep this long?” No answer. “ Bradley .” 

Still nothing. The house was uncharacteristically quiet. The baby monitor wasn’t picking anything up either. Your heart twinges painfully in your chest, stomach turning with the thick ice of dread. 

You tap your phone screen again, looking for a message or a missed call. Any kind of clue as to where Bradley had disappeared off to. There’s a text waiting for you, must’ve missed it in your initial alarm. You scan it quickly and breathe out a sigh of relief. 

Almost out of diapers. Went to the store with Nicky. Don’t freak out. Love you honey. 

Panic now abated, you drop the phone back onto your chest. You should probably get up and do something, anything . There was no shortage of chores to do around the house. Laundry to fold. Dishes to wash. You were due for a pumping session too. But try as you might, and admittedly you don’t try very hard, you can’t bring yourself to disturb the peace. So you stay on the couch, drifting in and out of sleep.

You must have fallen asleep again, because sometime later you’re startled awake by the click of the front door. 

“Bradley?” you mumble, rubbing the heel of your hands into your eyes. 

“Hey, honey.” He kicks the door shut behind him. “Sleep okay?” 

“Yeah.” You stretch. “Freaked me out a little when I woke up and you guys were gone.”

Bradley kisses your forehead and flicks a lamp on. “Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to, but I didn’t wanna wake you up.”

You draw in a sharp breath when you see him. He’s looking sinful in a pair of jeans and a dark blue Henley. A backwards baseball cap rests atop his unruly hair. Your eyes flit over his body, head to toe. He prattles on about his errand, completely unaware of the fact that you’re currently undressing him with your eyes.

Somehow, at this moment, he’s the hottest he’s ever been. 

“Got more diapers. They’re in the car. I wanted to bring Nicky in first and get him settled. He fell asleep on the drive back. He got a compliment from the lady at the register. Honestly I think all this attention is starting to go to his head. Can’t help that he’s so cute though, he got it from you. I also got more onesies, cuz I saw them in Target and couldn’t help it. Oh and those peanut butter cups that you like from Trader Joes, and…” He trails off, catching you staring. “What?” 

“Babe,” you mumble, still in your lust-fueled trance. 

“Yeah?” Bradley’s eyebrows knit together. 

“C’mere.” 

He sets Nicky’s carseat down gently. “You’re looking at me weird. Did I do something wrong?” He asks, moving over to you slowly. 

You shake your head. “You let me take a nap, and you went to get diapers without me asking you to.”

“Uh huh. So?” He looks down at you, lips pursed. “I still don’t understand why you’re looking at me like that.” 

You don’t answer. Instead, you grab the waistband of his jeans and pull him towards you. 

“Whoa, baby.” Bradley stumbles forward. His hand covers your fumbling ones. “What are you doing?” 

Your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip. “What does it look like I’m doing?” You undo his belt and pop the button of his jeans. 

“I mean it looks like you’re about to–” his gaze flits to where Nicky rests still fast asleep in his carseat. “Suck my dick,” his voice comes out in a hoarse whisper. “Wait, right here? Shouldn’t we move–”

There was definitely logic in his words, but it didn’t really register at the moment. The only thing on your mind was him . Emerald tinted lenses colored your world. Greed plain and simple. For the taste of him. For the weight of him on your tongue. For the sound of his throaty groans to fill the air. 

“Bradley,” you whisper, lips following the trail of dark hair down his stomach to where it disappears into his elastic waistband. 

Your husband swallows thickly. “Yeah, honey?” 

You free his cock from his boxers. “Stop talking.” 

“But, sweetheart– oh fuck .” Bradley runs a hand over his face. 

“Let me return the favor.” You shush him. 

“You don’t have to do–” Bradley chokes as you swipe your tongue over his hip bone. “ Shit . Okay, yeah.” 

You spit into your palm and stroke him slowly. He’s halfway there, but getting harder with each languid flick of your wrist. You sink your teeth into his thigh and he groans throatily. The noise settles deep into your stomach, pulsing against your clit. 

You missed this. The heady paradox of being on your knees, yet having Bradley completely at your mercy. Making him feel good. Pulling him apart piece by piece. 

You mouth at the base of his cock, tongue laving at the underside of it. Bradley rests a hand at the nape of your neck. There’s no force behind the gesture, it’s more like he’s anchoring himself than pushing you further onto him.

“Fuck, baby.” His eyes are squeezed shut, jaw slack, and lips slightly parted. “ Christ. ” He rocks his hips forward into your hand. 

A wordless plea. You know what he’s asking for. Your mouth slides up his shaft slowly, and you swirl your tongue around the head, still pushing, still teasing. It’s only when Bradley moans brokenly that you decide to have mercy on him. 

Your lips part, and you swallow him down slowly. His head tilts forward and he lets out a breathless whisper of your name that has you squeezing your thighs together as your clit throbs. 

Bradley’s a perfect picture of debauchery above you. Shoulders drooped and leaning over you slightly. His face is flushed, eyebrows screwed together. The veins on his neck and arm bulge prominently. His grip on your neck tightens, and he gently guides you forward. 

You take as much as you can handle, stroking what you can’t fit into your mouth. Your jaw aches from the lack of practice. But it’s worth every bit of discomfort to hear the moans and praises he levels your way. 

“Your mouth feels so goddamn good, honey,” he whispers, when his cock hits the back of your throat. “Just like that, baby. Such a good girl. You’re doing so good. Keeping going, sweetheart.”

Your hand drifts downward of its own accord, and dips into the waistband of your leggings. You rub insistent circles into your clit to relieve the ache. It’s been so long, you think you could come from this alone.

“Look at you getting off,” he says, hazel eyes blazing into your own. “Wish you could see how pretty you look with my dick in your mouth, baby,” he mumbles, lazily thrusting forward.

Bradley cups your jaw, thumb rubbing over your cheek where he can feel his cock moving. He rolls his hips forward again, biting his bottom lip as he watches your lips stretch to accommodate him. 

“Pretty girl,” he coos, brushing your hair out of your face so he can see you better. “Taking me so well. Gonna make me come.”

You moan, and Bradley chuckles.

“That what you want? Want me to come down your throat?” 

You blink up at him, pleading with watery eyes. You wanted it more than anything. 

“Yeah? Gonna swallow every drop, like a good girl?” The thought sends a shudder down his spine. “My good girl. Won’t last long with you looking at me like that.” 

That’s the plan . 

You move the hand on his thigh around to gently squeeze his balls, and Bradley thrusts forward sharply.

“ Shit –sorry, baby.” His thumb brushes at the newly shed tears that track down your face. “You okay?” The fire in his eyes dies slightly as he searches your gaze for any sign of pain or reluctance to continue. 

Instead the only thing he finds there is hunger and greed. 

This time when you squeeze, you’re ready for his reaction. You take his next roll of his hips easily. And the next, and the next. Letting Bradley gently fuck your face. He was close, you could tell by the slur of his words, the inconsistent buck of his hips. 

“Goddammit,” Bradley says through gritted teeth. His fingers snag into your hair, tugging at the nape. “Gonna fucking kill me, honey.” His chest heaves with shallow breaths. “‘M gonna come, sweetheart. You ready for me?” 

Please, oh please . Your thoughts chant, words blurring into a slurry. You hope your eyes convey the desperation you feel. 

Bradley’s eyes roll into the back of his head. He bites his pointer finger, trying to muffle the shameless groan he lets out as he unravels. 

You take all he gives, and he gives you so much. His cum coats your throat, and you swallow as much as you can, but you have to pull away for air. The last dribbles of his cum paint your lower lip and drip down your chin. You tilt your head back and stick your tongue out to show off your empty mouth. 

Bradley stares at you, eyes crossed and unfocused. He pushes his hat off and runs a hand over his face and through his hair. “Holy shit,” he mutters. “Fuck, baby.” 

He swipes at your lip, smearing the cum and spit into your skin. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

“Like what?” You smirk. 

“All innocent and shit.” Bradley pushes his ring finger into your mouth. “I’ll fuck you right here.” 

You clean the digit off with your tongue and pull away with a pop . “You promise?” You arc an eyebrow up.

“Fuck.” He leans down and gives you a kiss that leaves your toes curling. “Give me five minutes to put Nicky in bed, and I’ll be right back.” He whispers. 

You lean back and peel your shirt from your body. “ Tick tock .” 

Bradley bites his bottom lip, eyes sliding hungrily over your body. “Don’t go anywhere.” He points a stern finger at you. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you chuckle. “Hurry up so you can fuck me.” 

He grabs the carseat, and still manages to be gentle despite his obvious excitement. “Five minutes, baby, I promise.” 

Bradley’s never one to break a promise. 

[ruth-the-artblog]

Hey @ari-shipping-stuff i thought i would answer everything in a seperate post so i can compile things easier fkjdkdidhdidjd

1- Yeah the saturation is edited :> I was going for a sunset vibe. Which is Extra Eerie in school because we always go before sunset. The original is regular window light + shadows. I'll put the og one at the readmore at the bottom. Also tbh i been using mostly pens for drawing to prevent me from constantly fixing mistakes in comics. Kkdhdkdjkdjdkjd

Oml those fucking windows. I hated them so much. As a public school student, they were in all my schools.

These, but much less clean (im talking CAKED in dust) and half the windows were broken/the glass panel is half hanging out of the frame. It was such a hazard to clean tbh because it was so easy to push out a loose panel. AND WE SAT NEXT TO THOSE BITCHES 🤡🤡🤡🤡

2- Thanks :> i also liked how it turned out with the blue pen and orange lights. I think the reason my drawings are rly expressive is because i like to draw those the most kdhdkdhdkd

3- kdhddkdjdkdjdjdkdjd with how much eyes it has, you def could hit one of them square in the eye

4- It's a karaoke room im leaving a photo under the readmore for reference. I kinda just based it off how i remembered it. Now that i think about it im not sure if there was a disco ball, but in my heart there sure is. The things on the table are microphones, but no one is singing right now. The song playing is "Eyes Without a Face" by Billy Idol, the one i linked in the post.

5- Nah i didn't use the knife, quite the opposite actually. I didn't like how one of the draings turned out, so i ripped the bottom half of the paper and drew at the bottom. Then i used my phone editor to blur the two pages together.

What ending scenes dym btw?

This place was inspired by the song "I Know The End" by Pheobe Bridgers. The place is sunset with thousands of billboards. Eyeballs and Lee sit on the titular billboard from the song as they chat.

When did Lee meet Wingtips or Eyeballs?

For Wingtips, its the usual one. Wingtips is a manifestation of Lee's imagination as a coping mechanism. Vae also act as a therapist and later a parental figure to Lee until the end.

For Eyeballs, after Lee dies, Eyeballs poses as Wingtips to torment him in Hell for eternity. However, something happens and leaves Eyeballs just as trapped in the dream-hellscape as Lee is. They kinda struggle to understand each other, as they are the only real people in the dream-hellscape

First comic

^ i think i sent the full vid in the discord before. Lmk if you want me to find it for you

Right that's it. Thanks for reading everything.

[seoafin]

are you still working on that nagumo fic 😭

yes 😭😭😭😭😭

[jaynovz]

Trick or Treat🦇

Smellmyfeetgivemesomethinggoodtoeat.

FEET? DID SOMEONE SAY FEET?

Here ya go! XD

[image id: photo of several foot shaped lollipops in a variety of colors including red, purple, blue, pink, and yellow. /end id]

[tenzuproductions]

Un-Abel To Help

Tenzu looks up from their phone, they just got done texting Big Mama about Scylla’s whereabouts. The spider stood against a tree in the cold, holding the two jackets for their sister close to them. They bury the bottom half on their face into the lavender purple scarf they have on and around them. It was freezing out, almost below 10 degrees due to it being late into winter, plus it was night, so that didn’t help.

Two pairs of footsteps could be heard approaching the teen. Tenzu peers to their right to see Big Mama and Miko quickly walking towards them. Both of them have a rather worried look on their faces.

“Come on, let’s go get our Scy.” Big Mama says as she walks up to Tenzu, who turned on their heel to follow her as she kept going.

“How long have you guys been looking for her?” The young spider asks, looking at their Ai.

“Almost three hours now, I’d say.” Miko responds after a moment of thinking. Tenzu wasn’t that surprised honestly, considering it was their parents looking for Scylla. If anything, they admired the commitment from both of them. The commitment due to worry, but still.

It wasn’t the longest trip to the park, it only took about five minutes. When the trio arrived, they spotted Scylla on the bench. In the far back of the park by some trees. Big Mama was about to happily call her name, but was stopped by Miko putting their hand up.

“Wait a minute..” They say, squinting their eyes at the trees, or rather, what was behind the trees. Both spiders look in the direction Miko’s looking in, confused for a moment before all of them see a subtle glow.

“Oh fuck…” Tenzu mumbles, a subtle look of fear in their eyes.

“How wonderful of you to join us.” Scylla’s voice speaks up, causing the trio to focus on her. Tenzu looks her in the eyes, copying her gaze, tilting their head as they notice how off it seems. It wasn’t her speaking, it was Bishop talking to them. “Something wrong, spider?” Bishop asks as a grin forms on his face. Tenzu looks to the side, a sense of frustration building up inside of them.

“Arachne, I think you should let me and Tenzu handle this..” Miko quietly speaks after a moment. Big Mama looked over at them, confused for a moment. Though the more she thought about it, the more it made sense to her.

“If that’s..what you see fit. I trust you on this, both of you.” Big Mama hesitates, but turns and starts to walk away. She pauses for a moment though, glancing back at Scylla. “I’m sorry, honey..” She mumbles to herself as she continues the trip back to the hotel.

“Okay.” Miko quietly says, taking a deep breath and looking at Tenzu. “We shouldn’t stick around long. Especially since Bishop is in control and that..thing, is here.”

“But what about Scy? We can’t just leave her here. That thing could kill her if Bishop stops possessing her, couldn’t it?” The spider speaks in a whisper, a look of worry on their face.

“It wouldn’t, not if Bishop is in her body.” Miko says, shaking their head a bit. Tenzu looks over at both Scylla, or more so, Bishop. They glance up at Abel, who’s still standing behind the trees, but its gaze lingering on the small yokai. He raises an eyebrow at the spider, an unamused and bored look on his face. They turn their attention back to their Ai, silently asking them what to do. Miko opens their mouth to speak, but is interrupted by that pain in the ass ghost, Bishop.

“What do you think you can do to me? Hm?” He asks, that gin only spreads wider on his face. Both yokai look at each other for a second, then look back at Scylla’s possessed body.

“..There’s..nothing we can do. At least, not yet.” Miko says with a glare. Bishop chuckles, shaking his head slightly. Tenzu looks down at the jackets they’re holding, then up at their Ai. “We should…get going, Tenzu. There’s nothing we can do right now.” They say, though the spider can hear a hint of sorrow in their voice as Miko speaks.

“Can I at least…give Scy-Scy her jackets?” Tenzu asks, glancing up at their sister. Miko thinks for a moment, looking at Scylla and Abel. Abel hasn’t moved the whole time, it’s just been standing there, watching the two yokais.

“Um, yeah, sure. Just set them on the seesaw.” The Shibu Inu says, pointing to said seesaw that was between them and the bench Scylla is sitting on. It was a good halfway point. Tenzu gives them a nod and slowly begins walking towards the equipment, looking down at the snow as they do so. They can hear the soft crunch in the snow with each of their steps. It doesn’t take long for them to reach the seesaw. Tenzu lets out a quiet sigh as they look down at it, setting both thick jackets down. They were only able to stand there for a second before they felt themself getting picked up. Miko had thrown them over their shoulder as they bolted in the opposite direction of the park.

“H-Hey, what the!?-” They look up and at the park as it gets further away. What they see is Abel standing right in front of the seesaw, staring them down. Tenzu didn’t even hear it move.