#(below cut is just my normal pinned post)

[of-cauldrons-and-inkpens]

You Missed My Heart: PART 2

PART 1 LINK      |      PART 2 LINK      |      PART 3 LINK

Description: Miguel had died months ago. At least, my universe’s Miguel had died. Maybe I should have noticed when I could feel him touching me in my dreams, but grief is a hell of a thing. That is, until I woke up in a house that looked just like mine, but somehow different.

Miguel had taken me from my universe and put me in one where he could relive his past, whether I liked it or not.

Word Count: 11,305 

Author’s Note: I swear I re-wrote this three different times and all of them were drastically different. I checked for typos, but I’m posting this at four in the morning so there may be a few. 

Content Warning: smut, mild breeding kink, reader is being held against their will, dub-con (if you squint), piv, oral, unprotected sex; Miguel gets injured at one point; Miguel being manipulative and an ass, bit of angst (I mean his wife and child are dead so yeah)

Minors DNI! Story is below the cut

I groaned as I opened my eyes. My face was pressed in the crook between where Miguel’s ribs and arms would normally meet. He had moved me there in the middle of the night when I had managed to drift too far away from him. I had tried to squirm and protest, but I ended up caving before he would let go. I knew he was stubborn enough to pin me there out of spite and it wasn’t worth it.

Miguel was still awake somehow. It was dark in the room, save for the faint light that drifted through the curtains. Whatever time it was, it was either too late or too early for him to be up.

“Go back to sleep.” Miguel said. His voice was stern but gentle. I slid my hands down and grabbed onto the edge of the blanket. I hauled it upward, pulling it over my head. He let out a low chuckle as he watched me try to disappear.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Just after three.” He leaned down and pressed a quick peck against the blanket that covered the top of my head. “Get some sleep.” 

I glanced up at the gap between his chest and the blanket. Moonlight streamed through the window, painting his features in soft lines and shadows. He looked angelic. He was focusing on something in front of him, frowning and furrowing his eyebrows every so often. 

What was he doing?

I gently pulled down the blanket so that I could see what he was up to. 

Miguel was propped up on a pillow that leaned against the headboard. His eyes were focused on his hands, which were held out in front of him, spaced apart by about six inches, palm facing palm. Threads glistened between his fingers in the moonlight. His fingers were twisting and weaving new threads around the ones that lay between his fingers. The thin webs had been pulled from his spinnerets in his upper wrists. It was like watching someone play cat’s cradle.

One of his arms rested on my back. It didn’t hurt; it wasn’t even uncomfortable, but it did hold me in place, only allowing me the bare minimum of space for my chest to move as I breathed.

“You should go to sleep, too.” I said. I turned my head back and buried my face in his chest. He smiled, continuing to work. 

“I’m not tired.”

I glanced up at him. His dark eyes were beautiful like this. His face looked peaceful. I was too tired to see if he was lying or not.

“Have you gotten any sleep yet? Any at all?” I asked. He shook his head. 

“I’ll be alright. Just close your eyes.” 

I nodded, too tired to argue with him. I started to say something, but the words slurred together until I fell silent. Sleep pulled me in, welcoming me warmly. 

“I know, sweetheart.” He whispered, never faltering in his work. 

Something clattered to the floor downstairs, ripping me from my dream.

I winced, feeling the sun burn my eyes as it streamed in through the window. I tried to push myself upward, but I was overtaken with a dull ache in all of my muscles. 

Fucking hell.

It felt like I had been in a car crash. Every part of my body hurt. But, the most noticeable ache was between my legs. I swallowed hard as I pushed myself upward. I needed aspirin. 

As I moved, I couldn’t help but notice a divot in the bed on Miguel’s side. It was lined with sheets that had been ripped through. The hole was a decent size; roughly the size of a fist and a couple of inches deep. 

It hadn’t been there last night. At least, I hadn’t seen it there.

I slid my right hand over to touch the edges of the divot. It was the perfect size to accommodate Miguel’s hand. But why was it there?

I winced, feeling a sharp pain shoot through my body. If he was in a decent mood, I could ask him about it. If not, it didn’t really matter.   

I leaned over and grabbed the bottle of aspirin. As I moved, a faint twinkle caught my eye. I flipped my hand over. In the middle of the night, Miguel had slipped something around my ring finger. It was a thin band that had been braided from webbing and then tied off on the front of my finger with a small knot. 

Huh.

I tapped my thumb against the material, expecting it to stick to my finger in the same way that the web had stuck to my ankle last night. But this one didn’t. It had been worn smooth by his fingertips. The material looked almost silver in the early morning light. When I pulled my hand into the shadows, it looked almost like braided moonstone. 

I wasn’t sure whether to feel violated by the fact that he had placed a wedding ring on me in the middle of the night, or impressed by the precision it had taken to make it. 

I turned my hand back and forth, inspecting the thing from all angles. If I had known him for any meaningful amount of time, it would have been a sweet and loving gesture. 

I groaned. It was a gift from the man who had basically kidnapped me from my home, but still, I needed to take whatever nice gestures I could get, no matter how presumptuous. 

I unscrewed the cap and dropped several pills into the palm of my hand. I pushed the first pill into my mouth. As I went to swallow, I couldn’t help but notice the faint numbness that lingered on my bottom lip. It was in the exact spot that his fangs had nipped, either on purpose or mistake.

That’s… weird.

I swallowed the pill and then leaned down to touch my thighs. Bright red marks covered my legs, showing off his handy-work. I quickly slid my fingers along the skin… only to meet the same result. 

The skin was numb. It was almost impossible to move the half centimeters of flesh that had been ever so gently nicked. He hadn’t bit me; not really. Just a graze was enough to do that. 

Jesus.

I winced as I downed the second pill. Then I pushed myself up from the bed and made my way to the dresser. I needed something to wear. But, I wasn’t wearing more lingerie. It already hurt to walk; I needed time to heal before I wore anything close to that again. I sighed as I stepped across the room, looking for something to wear. Miguel had laid his sweatshirt from last night on the dresser. I was sure that he had left it for me after my complaint last night. 

Maybe it was a peace offering. Or maybe the sex had been the peace offering and this was just him being nice.  

I quickly pulled it on. It was long enough to cover my hips and a good part of my thighs. I quickly snagged a pair of underwear from the dresser and pulled them on, as well.

Downstairs, something else clattered to the floor. What the hell was he doing?

As I stepped into the hallway, I noticed the boxes that had been piled up outside of the yellow door. I flipped open one of the cardboard tabs. Inside lay my things. At the bottom of the box, I noticed the sleeve of one of my sweaters. He had brought me my things, just as he had said he would. Did he ever go to sleep last night?

I padded down the stairs, making my way to the kitchen with every step. I figured that that was where he was. He didn’t seem like the kind to just linger around the house, looking for some kind of mindless activity to fill his time. He seemed too serious for that. 

I stepped into the kitchen and was immediately greeted by an unexpected sight. He was standing in front of the stove, pushing around eggs in a skillet. The downstairs was cold from the winter air but he was still wearing only a thin t-shirt and a pair of boxers.

He was a portrait of domesticity. 

I watched him closely as I stepped into the room.

“I made breakfast.” He said. 

“Did you get any sleep?” I asked. I couldn’t help but notice that the shattered plate had been picked out of the sink and had been thrown into the trash. He turned to meet my gaze. The dark circles under his eyes told me everything that I needed to know. 

“Miguel, you need to go back to bed.”

“I’ll be fine.” He frowned as he pushed the spatula around in the skillet. “I made coffee.”

“Thank you.” I made my way toward the coffee pot that rested on the counter beside him. As I did, his eyes never left the stove. I reached for one of the coffee cups that had been laid out for me. As I did, I glanced back at Miguel. God, he looked tired. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” I asked. 

He scoffed. “I sleep perfectly fine.” 

“Okay then.” I muttered. Guess that was a touchy subject for him. I rolled my eyes as I grabbed the coffee pot. I filled the mug with the dark liquid. As I leaned forward to slide it back into its original spot, Miguel stepped to the side and pulled open the door to the fridge. Without missing a beat, he pulled out a container of creamer and handed it to me, then slinked back to the stove before the eggs had the chance to begin to brown. 

“Thank you.” I said. Warm light from the kitchen caught the ring, making it twinkle again. I considered asking him about it, but I decided not to. Surely he would bring it up if it was something that he wanted to talk about. 

A dark strand of hair fell across his forehead as he focused on the skillet. “Do you need any help?” I asked. 

He quickly shook his head. “What’s on your mind?” I wanted to get even a scrap of conversation from him; I needed some idea as to what he was thinking about. Maybe I should just leave him alone. Maybe he liked to exist in silence. I mean, if nothing else, he seemed used to it. 

“Work. How did you sleep?” He asked. 

“Okay, I guess.”  I added the creamer to my coffee and then returned the container to the spot where he had pulled it from. I carried my mug back to the counter, watching as he lifted the skillet off of the stovetop. I lifted the mug to my lips but then suddenly jerked it back. The glass was hot; it burned the skin of my lower lip everywhere except for the small spot in the center of my mouth. 

“Fuck!” I touched the skin and was met with a familiar numbness. 

Miguel dropped the skillet onto the stove and rushed forward. Within seconds he had cleared the area between the stove and the counter, moving so that he was standing directly in front of me. He towered over me, wasting no time to invade my personal space. “Sorry, I’m fine.” I said. I brushed my fingers along my lip, grazing the burned flesh and then the numbed skin. It felt weird and I didn’t like it. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Let me see.”

“It’s fine. I just burned myself.” He shook his head before reaching down and gently grabbing onto my chin. He pulled my head upward. My eyes met his for a moment before he turned his attention down to the mark on my mouth. 

“Move your hand.” He instructed. I did as I was told and dropped my hand down to the cold stone of the counter. 

“Miguel, I’m fine. I promise.” He didn’t believe me; I could tell from the deep line that had formed between his eyebrows.

“Open wide.” He instructed. His thumb slid across my lower lip. The touch was feather-light; almost too gentle, too caring. 

“Your face is red.” He remarked.

“This is demeaning.” The words slurred together as he inspected my mouth. 

“Is your lip numb?” His perfected vision could see the minute scrapes against my skin; tiny cuts that had been collateral damage in the excitement of the previous night. 

“A little bit.” He winced, but quickly fixed his expression before I could comment on it.

“It should wear off in a couple of hours. You weren’t actually bit so the effects shouldn’t be too bad. Just be careful not to hurt yourself.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head.

“What if you had bitten me?” I asked. He released my jaw from his hold. 

“That’s not something you need to worry about.” 

“But if it had… let’s say I’m someone else and you bit me, what would happen.” His face twitched. Something flickered behind his eyes as if he was considering it. His eyes didn’t leave my face.

“That’s not… no.” 

“Miguel, it’s a basic question. I barely know anything about you. If you’re planning on keeping me here, then I want to know-” he cut me off.

“And I said no. Damn it, why isn’t that enough for you? What are you wanting from me?” His voice was sharp and cold, like metal. Suddenly, the device on his wrist let out a low chirp. He glanced downward. 

He gave a low sigh. “I’ll get you a plate. You didn’t eat anything last night.” He turned and quickly began to mess with the thing on his wrist. 

I glanced down at the counter. A chorus of beeps came from his wrist as he worked. I gently slid my teeth against my bottom lip; the numbness was strangely fascinating. 

Without a word, Miguel sat the plate down in front of me. Steam drifted off the fresh eggs that covered the plate.

“Thank you.” He didn’t answer me. His eyes lingered on my face for a long moment before he leaned back against the countertop.

He rolled his hand around his wrist, moving his eyes between me and the device. “I have work to do today. But I restocked the fridge so there’s plenty for you to eat. Feel free to help yourself to anything you like. The TV in the living room works, as does the stereo. Most of your books should be upstairs, so you should have plenty to occupy your time.”

“Thank you.” I said. I stabbed a bright yellow piece of egg with my fork. “How long are you going to be gone?” I asked. 

“Are you going to miss me?” He paused, waiting for a response. I nodded, partly because I knew it was the right answer and partly because I thought I would, even if just a little bit. He smiled, proud of my answer. “It shouldn’t be too long. Just a couple of things to correct, then I’ll be right back.” There was something about the way that he said the word ‘correct’ that made me wince. He meant kill; I thought of the blood on his face and knew what he meant when he said he fixed things. 

“Is there anything you think you’re going to do today?” Miguel asked. He wanted to know my plans for the day. Well, gee, Miguel, I’ll probably stay trapped here. 

Then something occurred to me. I was the only person here and I knew more of what was going on now. There was no reason I shouldn’t be allowed to explore.

“Can I leave the house?” I asked.

“And where would you go?” It seemed ridiculous to him to even ask. Why would I ever want to leave when I could sit in an empty house all by myself and pretend I wasn’t his prisoner?

“Out.” I said. “Maybe walk around the block. Is there another block or does it stop after what I can see from the front stoop?” 

“There’s other blocks. But I don’t understand why you would want to leave the house.” 

“Fucking hell, Miguel.” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud. I turned my attention to the plate. He ground his teeth together for a moment. He was choosing to ignore what I had said. 

“If you need something to occupy your time when I’m gone, I’ll get you a pet.” That doesn’t replace the fact that I wanted to leave the house. I wanted to pretend that my life was normal, even if there was nobody in Nueva York anymore. I could still act as if things hadn’t changed. 

“Ah, a pet for your pet. Doesn’t that seem a bit redundant?” I muttered. That jab had been entirely intentional. 

It was true, though. I was a pet to him; maybe I received different forms of affection than the standard house cat, but the same rules seemed to apply. He would come and go as he needed; I was to stay where I had been placed, always ready and willing to entertain when he came back. 

He rolled his eyes as he leaned against the counter. He continued to poke at the device on his wrist. “I’m ignoring you.” I rolled my eyes as I continued to eat. 

“It isn’t fair to lock me inside of a house and never let me leave. You ever heard of cabin fever? I’m going to end up going insane in here.”

“I highly doubt that.” His hair bounced as he spoke. He was shaking his head at me while he messed with his device. 

“Miguel.”

“You’ll be fine.” He said it like it was the end of the discussion. Hell, it wasn’t even a discussion; he just kept saying no. 

“Come on!”

“Is there something you’re wanting to say to me?” His tone was harsh. 

“Yeah, you’re really pissing me off.”

“You’ll get over it. You always do.” 

“Just tell me why. If you think I’m going to run away then where would I even go? There’s nothing out there. So why?” 

“It’s for your own good. Just stay in the damn house.” I rolled my eyes as I took a sip of the cooled coffee. 

“You never fucking tell me anything and then you get pissy when I ask questions.”

“I am not being pissy.” He shook his head and muttered something under his breath. There was a long moment of silence between us. 

“Don’t call me pissy.” He muttered. He sounded more annoyed than actually angry. He almost sounded like an annoyed child. I had to fight back a laugh at how petulant he sounded.

A weird silence hung in the air. I began to eat, ignoring how he fixed his eyes on me. Though, any time I would look up to catch his stare, he would glance back down and fiddle with his wrist. 

"I really do believe that you could start to like it here. I think you just need time. Then, you'll start to warm up to me."

He brushed his hair off of his forehead and let out a low sigh. "You do love me. You just need time." He said the first part for me. He repeated the second part for himself.

I did love him, at least a little bit. Even if just for the fact that he looked so much like another version of himself; a sweeter version… a softer one. 

Maybe he was capable of being that way. Or, maybe he was too far gone. 

His eyes moved upward to meet mine and I felt a sudden wave of shame wash over me. 

"You look beautiful this morning." He said. 

“Miguel,” I asked. His features softened at the sound of his name. “Is there any chance that I’ll ever get to go home?” 

He winced. “If you go back to your timeline, one of two things could happen. Either time will find a way to correct itself and you will die or everything will collapse in on itself. If that happened, it would kill every single person you’ve ever known and billions more.” A bright light shone from his wrist. 

It was time for him to go. 

He let out a low sigh. “I don’t…” His voice trailed off. He looked down at the ground for a moment. “I can’t send you back to die. I won’t.” 

I guess that was my answer.

He stepped toward me. His face had softened. “I want you to be happy and safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” I didn’t reply. He moved closer, stopping only once our bodies were almost touching. 

I looked at him, unsure of what he wanted. He leaned down, placing a finger under my chin. It was the gentlest touch he could manage, yet it was backed with unfathomable strength. He lifted my chin up to meet his gaze.

“I love you. I’ll be back as soon as possible. Be a good girl for me. Okay?” I nodded. He pushed a quick peck against my lips before he walked off, heading toward the archway that connected the kitchen to the living room. Once he vanished from sight, I heard him begin to speak into his device.

A pink and orange light enveloped the living room; it was so bright that I winced. The light vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

Then, just like that, he was gone. 

I sighed to myself. Well, no time like the present. 

I pushed myself up, grabbed my coffee mug, and headed upstairs.

He would be gone for hours. There was no harm in exploring, especially since he wasn’t here to stop me. If he didn’t want to tell me anything, then I would have to find it out for myself. After all, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. 

I stared at the yellow door upstairs. Not knowing what was inside was going to eat me alive. I knew it wasn’t an office; Miguel didn’t stay here long enough to do anything but drag me around and then try his idea of a romantic gesture. Maybe it was a storage room, but even then he was entirely too cagey about the whole thing. He didn’t strike me as the kind of person to have some kind of mindless hobby. 

Maybe he was living out the story of Bluebeard and there was something macabre inside. Maybe there was something perverse inside. 

It didn’t matter; I had to know. 

I pushed several of the boxes out of the way. I slid them several feet to the left. I could just move them back when I was done and he would never know. Stepping forward, I reached out and grabbed the door handle. Then, I gave a firm twist. 

It was locked.

Damn it. 

Who the hell did he think he was, anyway? He’s the one who locked me up. He’s the one who said I couldn’t leave the house. He’s the one that did all of this in the first place. 

I couldn’t help but notice that the locks on my door and this door were different. This door was aimed at keeping other people out of the space; mine was aimed at locking me inside, like a princess in a tower. 

I needed some way to get the door open. I was sure that I would understand this all a little better if I could just figure out why he was so determined to keep this a secret from me. 

Then, I remembered my Miguel fighting with the floorboard in our bedroom. Before he embarked on his noble mission to defeat the squeaking sound, he had bought a case of beer and a new set of screwdrivers. If this version of him was so determined to make a perfect copy of my house, then he would have added the set.

I dashed to the hall closet and quickly pulled out the black plastic case that rested on the bottom shelf. Bingo! I plucked the screwdriver from the box and then walked over to the yellow door. I knew that with the old style of lock, I just needed to get the metal inside of the keyhole to move. If it moved, then the door would pop open with no issue. 

I slotted the screwdriver into place and then twisted hard. At first, it didn’t even flinch. Then, after a moment,  the lock groaned and then popped open. I quickly twisted the brass door handle and smiled as the door opened. I pushed the door open wide and then flipped the lightswitch. 

What the fuck?

The room was small. Every wall had been painted a soft yellow; it was a step up from the stark white that the original room had been. A small stuffed elephant lay in the middle of a crib that was pushed against the far wall. A framed ultrasound sat on the bookshelf. Little pieces of a life; of hopes and memories, all packed away to be forgotten.

None of this was from my timeline. In my universe, this was just his office. It was where Miguel would disappear to for most of the night after returning from work. After he died, I locked the door and pretended the room didn’t exist. When the men from Alchemax showed up to take the cardboard boxes filled with his work, I didn’t even have the courage to peek inside of the room. The room was the black hole in the house, eating away at any chance of sleep or happiness that I had. 

At least that was something this Miguel and I seemed to share.

I stepped into the small room, moving toward the bookshelf that rested against the far wall. The shelf was the only thing that looked familiar. 

A box rested on the bottom shelf. I quickly dipped down and pulled it free. I flipped the lid and discarded it onto the floor in front of me. The box was filled with small photos. Some were older than others, each faded and weathered to different degrees. I sunk down to the floor. I moved so that I was sitting criss cross. 

I reached inside of the box and pulled out one of the photos. The picture was weathered, but I could still make out a version of me staring up at him with an adoring gaze. She wore a wedding dress and he wore a suit. 

Jesus.

I sat the photo on the floor beside me and then reached into the box and fished out a small handful. I started to sift through them, viewing little pieces of Miguel’s life as I went. When I reached the last three photos, I stopped. They were pictures of Miguel holding a little girl. She was small and perfect, with his eyes and his smile. 

His child. 

I winced as I looked at the pictures. The last photo was of Miguel and I standing behind her. She was sitting in a small plastic highchair with a cake in front of her. On it, there was a glowing candle in the shape of a ‘1’. Miguel’s mouth was open in the process of saying something as I laughed. It was a moment that was frozen, giving him a small slice of time to keep when it all disappeared.

Fucking hell. I leaned forward and put the pictures back in the box. I didn’t want to look at this anymore. I felt my stomach flip as a wave of nausea overtook me.

However, as I leaned over, I spotted several more photos in the bottom of the box. But, I did know these pictures. I just hadn’t known that they had been taken. In two of the pictures, I was inside of the bookstore that I had worked at. They were pictures of me, taken in my universe. But, when did he take them? After my version of him died, I didn’t go back to work. I was lucky if I left bed most days. So these pictures were older than that. 

Suddenly, I became aware of the footfalls that came from the stairs. 

Miguel was home entirely too early. 

And I was still in the nursery. My head was still spinning from the pictures. I tried to make myself get up and frantically put the pictures back, but I couldn’t make my body move.

I heard him begin to make his way toward the bedroom. But, when he saw that the yellow door had been opened, he picked up his pace. 

I didn’t look back at him when he stepped into the doorway.

I didn’t want to meet his gaze.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” His voice was lined with rage. I stared at the wall. I could hear him swearing under his breath, his tone flickering between pissed to sad and then back again. I glanced back to look at him for a moment. His face was tight and his eyes burned red. 

“This was your office… I’m sorry, his office.” I lifted my hand upward to point at the wall with the small window. The window had been decorated with pink curtains. “His desk was against that wall.” I glanced to the side of the room and then pointed at the left wall. “He kept all of his boxes against the wall. I only ever went inside of the office once and that was when I heard him and my dad arguing about something. But I never… I never found out what it was.” The screaming had happened two days before Miguel died and I couldn’t help but wonder if the two things had been connected. 

“I just wanted to know what was in here. That’s all.” I said. "Are you planning on locking me in my room again?" I asked. 

"No."

The man stood in the doorway, lingering like a ghost. His features softened as he watched me. He walked deeper into the room, moving so that he was standing over me. He sat down on the floor beside me. His large frame was only a foot away from me; close enough to touch, but not so close as to scare me. As he sat there, I was once again reminded of how his body had always dwarfed mine. His body was large enough to provide me with either the utmost care or utmost cruelty, depending on which Miguel I got. 

“You had a child?” I asked. 

He winced. “I did.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” My voice was little more than a whisper.

“No.” It was a sore spot for him. It was then that I noticed that he was focusing on the far wall, unable to meet my eyes. 

I was also a sore spot for him. 

I looked down at the floor as he began to speak again. 

“All I’ve ever wanted is to keep you safe.” He said. His face twitched. His eyes began to fade from red to brown. He was reliving all of his failures, past and present. 

“I understand.” I said. He let out a dry laugh. 

“But you don’t. You really fucking don’t. Do you know what it’s like to watch you die in every timeline? Every universe? Either before or after me, there you go. Either you burn to death or are crushed or get killed in a car crash or die in some freak fucking accident… and I’ve had to sit and watch.” 

He shook his head. Several dark strands of hair fell across his face. “I’m not a good man. I’ve done… horrible things.” I flinched at his words. I couldn’t tell if it was self awareness or just simple self hatred. “I just wanted a part of you that was entirely mine. A piece of you that I can love and… keep.”

He said the last part so casually. It was as if it was all just a part of the daily dysfunction of a man with a savior complex and the full power to act upon it. He had everything a man or god could ever want, except for the power of self control. 

What he had done was unfathomably wrong, but the smallest part of me could understand it. The only real difference between us was that he actually could do something about it; when I lost everything, I could only lay in bed and cry. 

However, there wasn’t enough money in any timeline to make me admit that to him. Telling him I understood his actions would only feed into the delusion that this was right… that this was inherently good. 

I nodded slowly as I took in his words. He leaned back against his arms. He pushed his hands against the hardwood as he looked around the room, as if reliving a memory. His face was crestfallen. 

My fingers brushed his. He flinched, but then gave into the touch. I slid my fingers on top of his, pinning his hand between my skin and the cold hardwood. He sat still for a moment, taking in the small crumb of affection. Then, he lifted his pinky, moving it so that it slipped on top of my ring finger. 

He glanced down at our hands. His eyes became fixed on the small ring; he was entranced at the fact that I hadn’t taken it off yet. 

Miguel opened his mouth to say something, but he quickly changed his mind. He closed his mouth, allowing for the silence to overwhelm us. 

We were both kind of pathetic. But, I felt especially so at how I still wanted some kind of closeness with him. 

I didn't want to be alone, even if the only option was with the crazy man. 

I glanced up. My eyes met his.

I leaned forward, moving so that my face was only inches away from his. The room was cold and I was sure that he could see the hard goosebumps that had formed on my skin. His eyes danced over my face before drifting down to my lips. He looked like he wanted to tell me something, but it was as if it was stuck. Whatever words he wanted to say wouldn't come out. 

I filled the last inches of space between us. Slowly, I pressed my lips against his. Our lips moulded together, fitting like puzzle pieces. He let out a low groan.

He pulled his lips away from me, giving me a chance to catch my breath.

He lay his forehead against mine. Then he whispered something that was so faint, I couldn’t hear most of it. But, I could have sworn that the last words were a soft "I’m sorry."

The next few weeks, we existed as ghosts. He barely spoke to me. On the rare occasion that he was home during the daytime, I would often catch him staring at me with a weird mixture of adoration and sadness. He was gone until late most nights. I had taken to crawling onto the couch and falling asleep there most nights. The house was too empty; too quiet. He wouldn’t come back until late and would then, without fail, haul me back to the bedroom. I would awaken every morning to a cup of coffee on the bedside table. He would squeeze my shoulder gently, though he was always gone by the time I opened my eyes. 

My head lay against one of the pillows that I had dragged downstairs from the bed. I sighed as I turned over. The couch wasn’t uncomfortable, it was just weird to try and sleep when there was no noise coming from outside. I had gotten so used to the sounds of the city lulling me to sleep. Now, I would toss and turn for hours until I would turn on the TV for some noise. 

I pulled one of the blankets higher up on my body. The house was freezing. I glanced up at the clock on the wall. 

Just after two.

Where was he? He usually came back around one or so. He was late. Time was ticking on and he was nowhere to be found. 

Damn it. I winced, realizing that I was actually worried about him. 

Suddenly, a bright light filled the first floor. I jerked upright, turning toward the kitchen. “Miguel?” I asked. I quickly pushed myself up from the couch and made my way to the kitchen.

"Miguel?" I repeated. I flipped on the light to the kitchen and saw him standing there. He was doubled over with one hand grasping the back of a chair. Blood dripped from his nose onto the faded tile below. 

"You need to go to bed." His voice was rough. I stepped deeper into the room, ignoring him. He let out a groan as he tried to pull on the back of his suit. He reached for something, but he couldn't grasp it. He dropped his head, trying to catch his breath. I stopped several feet in front of him.

Slowly, he lifted his head. Blood covered his bottom lip. His face was bleeding from a cut on his cheekbone. It was a gash that was slowly oozing dark blood. 

"Oh my God. Miguel!" I rushed forward, filling the distance. 

"It's not as bad as it looks. They’ll heal, they just need a bit of time.” He said. Blood ran down his jaw as he spoke. He looked bad; bad enough that, if he had been the other version of himself, we would have immediately been on the way to the hospital. 

There were several gashes that had managed to cut through his suit, exposing the skin beneath. 

Dear God, what the hell happened to him?

"Go away." He said. He waved his hand, motioning for me to do as I had been told. He leaned over the side of the counter. Bruises were blossoming on his tan skin, painting him in shades of blue and black. 

"Just let me help you. Are there any bandages in the house?" I asked.

"I don't need help."

"Miguel." 

"What?" His voice was harsh; his words lined with actual pain. 

"Stop being so damn stubborn and just let me help you." I said. I walked over the lower cabinet and pulled out a hand towel. I stepped back toward him, hoping that he would soften.

Instead, he scowled at me. "Go to bed. You're just working yourself up over nothing."  

"This isn't nothing." 

He rolled his eyes as he stepped forward. "I'm completely fine." His leg went out from under him. I tried to catch and steady him, but instead, we both tumbled to the ground below. 

I watched as several of the more superficial cuts on his body began to close. 

"Jesus, Miguel. What happened?" He shook his head as he pushed himself off of the floor. 

"It's nothing. That's why I didn't want you to see any of this." He paused. "What the hell are you even doing down here?" He grabbed onto the counter to steady himself. Part of me expected to see him break the counter under his fingers. 

I pushed myself off of the floor and rushed to his side. "Is there anything I can do?" I asked. He shook his head. 

"I'm going to clean up. Go to bed." He winced as he stepped away from the counter. Based on the way he winced as he touched his side, he probably had a cracked rib.

I couldn't imagine anything that was strong enough to do this to him. Unless it had been something, or several somethings, that were all exactly like him. 

"I'm going to help you." I said. I eyed one of the deeper bruises that covered the side of his jaw. He caught me staring at the dark mark. 

"They'll heal, I swear. I can heal relatively fast." He said. Fear tore through me. What if he was wrong? What if he was lying? He hadn't meant for me to see him coming home. He had fully intended on keeping this hidden from me, regardless of how badly he was hurt. "The worst ones are the cuts but even those will be fine in an hour or two."

I had already lost him once…

He glanced over at me. Fear swirled in my eyes as I watched him. Based on the way that his face twitched, I knew he could see it. 

He glanced down at the floor. Then, he leaned to the side and caught my arm in his gloved hand. His touch was gentle, but commanding.

"Come here." He instructed. I shifted toward him, moving until his chest was almost touching mine. I could hear his steady heartbeat and feel the warmth that was pouring off his skin. 

"I love you. I promise I'm okay." His voice was no more than a whisper. 

"Just let me help you." I said. He sighed to himself, giving in to my attempt at kindness.

The downstairs bathroom was quiet. Miguel was perched on the edge of the tub, watching as I leaned over the edge of the basin.

I turned the metal handles to the tub. Warm water spurted into the bottom of the tub. I watched as it began to pool at the bottom. Outside, I could hear the thunder boom. Rain beat against the roof of the house, filling it with the soft sound of water hitting 

"This isn't necessary. You should go back to sleep." He said. He pressed the towel to his face. Most of the blood had stopped flowing. 

"I wasn't asleep." 

"Why not?"

"The house is creepy at night. It's too quiet. I'm used to actual sounds from the city and there just aren't any here."

"I'm sorry." 

"It's fine." 

Soon, the tub was filled three quarters of the way. I leaned over and quickly turned off the flow of water. I straightened my stance and then looked back at Miguel. He offered a soft smile. A bruise blossomed just below his eye, though it immediately began to fade away. 

"I was really worried about you." I admitted.

"I'm okay."

"Are you?" I didn't believe him. He looked rough. It was as if he had been dragged through hell. It hurt to look at him too long. 

"This is all… purely superficial. I'll be better soon." I crossed my arms. Worry and fear covered my face; it was impossible to hide. 

"Sweetheart, there's nothing to worry about." His voice was like warm honey. He lifted his hand upward and motioned for me to come to him. Without question, I did. 

One arm gently curled around my waist. The other drifted upward to ghost the side of my face.

"I'm okay. This all just…" he sighed. He leaned his face forward and gently touched his forehead to my stomach. Warm skin pressed into my shirt. I could feel him slowly inhale as he breathed me in. Then, he lifted his face, peering up at me in the dim room. "This is just how it is." His voice was no more than a whisper. 

"You look tired." He said. He noticed the dark circles under my eyes.

"You're one to talk." He let out a humorless laugh.

His fingers slid across my cheek, wiping away a dark droplet that had landed on my skin. The material on his fingers was smoother than I had imagined. 

"You don't have to take care of me."

"Well, you don't seem to have any sense of self preservation. So if I don't, I don't figure you'll take care of yourself." I said. He looked at my face for a long moment. A soft smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. 

"No, that's not it. I think you care about me." Pride bubbled in his voice. I rolled my eyes. 

"Strip and get in the tub."

"Yes, Ma'am." He taunted. He winced as he reached backward again, tugging at the neck of the suit. His usual gracefulness was gone. He groaned, pulling at the back of the suit to no avail. 

"Are you okay?" I asked. He winced again as he tried to grab onto something that wasn't there. 

"I got hit earlier and I think the thing broke. I can't get it to move." His fingers worked over the material but it was no use.

"Here. Let me get it." I said. He stooped downward, moving so that I could actually grab onto the back of the material. He awkwardly leaned over as I pulled at the metal on the back of the suit. It looked like there had once been a zipper, but the tiny handle had been busted. Below it were several small clasps that had been bent down to cover the path of the zipper. 

"They really did a number on you." I murmured. I pushed my thumb under one of the clasps. I bent it forward, moving it so that I could see the path of the zipper. I did the same for the other pieces of metal that had become deformed. Then, I pinched what remained of the head of the zipper. I pulled the zipper downward, hearing him sigh softly when I unzipped the material between his shoulder blades. His skin spread out between my fingers, warm and slightly wet from sweat.

"There you go." I said. I released him and stepped backward. He should be good to go now. 

I watched as he effortlessly peeled the suit off of his bruised body. The bruises were changing in color, some getting darker as others began to fade before my eyes. 

He pulled the suit off of his arms, then down his muscular torso. As he reached his hips, I looked away, suddenly very aware of the fact that he wasn't wearing anything beneath the skin tight material. 

My face turned bright red. I looked at the door behind us, waiting for him to climb into the water. "You're blushing." 

"No, I'm… just get in the water." I heard him chuckle as he stepped out of the material. He crudely folded the material and then tossed it across the floor. It landed in a pile beside my left foot. I rolled my eyes. 

"Sweetheart, you don't have to look away from me." He said. I heard the water move as he stepped into the tub. I turned around, watching as he sank into the bath. 

I watched a dark bruise on his bare collarbone fade into his skin before disappearing. It was as if it had never been there to begin with. 

He was always full of surprises.

Miguel leaned back against the cold metal of the tub. Outside, lightning shot across the sky. It filled the room with a sudden white light. 

“I’ll clean up the floor in a little bit.” He said. The tiles in the kitchen and bathroom were stained and slick. In the dim light, the droplets on the floor looked almost black.

“No, you’re not. You’re going to go to bed after this.” I said. “And you’re actually going to sleep.” 

"That's what you think." He muttered. 

"Are you always this stubborn?” I asked. 

"Only for you, sweetheart." 

I grabbed a towel off of the counter and gently dabbed it against his cheek. His eyes focused hard on my face as I tried to tend to his fading wounds. He was attempting to read my features. I sat down beside the bathtub.

“Do I want to know what happened?” I asked. It wasn’t a playful or light question. He could hear the weight in my voice as I cleaned his face. 

“You wouldn’t like me anymore if I told you.” It was such an honest comment that I could tell it pained him. If I knew what he did when he was away, then any chance of me loving him would vanish.

Maybe it was best that I didn’t know. 

"Are you in any pain?" I asked. He shook his head. 

Steam from the tub drifted upward, clinging to his strong chest in thick beads.  

"Why have you been ignoring me for the last week?" I asked. His face tensed.

"I haven't been."

I scoffed lightly as I gently wiped his face with a towel. "And you said I was bad at acting." 

"I've had a lot on my mind." He said. I nodded slowly. 

"You can talk to me." I said. He offered a faint smile. He couldn't, because it was most likely about me. 

"Are you mad at me?" I asked. He shook his head. 

"No, I promise." I looked down at the tile floor. I didn't know what to say to him. Something weird hung in the space between us.

Suddenly, his voice cut through the cold air. 

"Get in with me." He said. 

"What? No." I said. He furrowed his brow. He hadn't expected me to refuse. 

"Why?" he asked. 

"Because you're wounded and I don't want to hurt you."

He let out a low laugh, almost as if he was mocking me. "Believe me, it's impossible for you to hurt me. Now be a good girl and get in the tub."

"You know I'm not your pet, right?" He smirked at my words. A pet was exactly what he considered me to be; maybe a darling pet that he seemed to have a steadfast devotion to, but a pet nonetheless. I rolled my eyes and began to stand up from where I had been perched. 

"Come on, sweetheart. Just get in with me. Please?" His voice was warm, much like his eyes. I sighed as I watched him. 

A nagging voice told me to just walk off. Just go to bed and ignore him. He was clearly fine. Everything that he said would happen, had actually happened. He was healing up perfectly fine. He didn't need to be babied; he was a kidnapper, not a stray cat that needed to be brought in from the rain. But still, I couldn't make myself leave the small bathroom. 

"Please?" He repeated. I groaned before I stepped back from the tub. I grabbed onto the bottom of my shirt and pulled it upward. I hauled it over my head and then discarded it onto the floor. My pajama bottoms and underwear followed close behind.

Stepping forward, I felt the cold air bite into my skin. I winced before casting a leg over the edge of the tub. I had picked the opposite side of the tub to where he was sitting, though something told me he had wanted me to climb on top of him. 

I sank into the water across from him. I lifted my hands to my chest and quickly crossed my arms in an attempt at maintaining some sense of modesty. Miguel's eyes traced over me, drinking me in. His gaze was so intense that it made me squirm. 

"Stop staring at me." I said. 

"You're beautiful." His voice was low and warm. I readjusted my arms to make sure I was covered. I wracked my brain, searching for something to say.

"So, what's the thing about this timeline?" I said.

"What do you mean 'thing'?" He asked. 

"What makes it different from my timeline? I mean, there's absolutely no way that everything is the same. And, even with all of the people gone, there's got to be something weird here."

"Firstly, ouch. Bold of you to assume that my work isn't perfect." He lifted his index finger as he playfully chided me. 

"What's the second thing?" I asked. 

"Secondly, aren't we enough of a 'thing'?" We were both here. That was weird, as far as timelines went. We were both alive and okay, regardless of how we had ended up here.

"Come on. Surely there's something weird here. Maybe they call tuna by some other weird name or maybe the movie Titanic doesn't exist here."

"Well, you're the only person here, so you can call tuna whatever you want. I may mock you if you choose something ridiculous, but that's entirely your choice. Also, I don't think that any movies have ever come out here." 

I watched his face as he spoke.

Goosebumps danced across my skin as I sat in the water. "I think I'm about to get out. The house is too cold to be in here." I said. 

He leaned forward and reached out his arms. In one smooth movement, he hauled me upward and he pulled me into his lap, making sure that my back was pressing into his chest. He leaned backwards, lifted his right thigh upward, and promptly placed me there. His other leg spread outward. His warm skin pressed into my back. I could feel the hard outline of muscles as I sat there. I squirmed.

"This isn't fair." I murmured. 

"Sure it is." 

"How do you figure?"

"I dragged you over here, fair and square." He smirked. He pressed a kiss to the back of my shoulder. I rolled my eyes as I turned to look at the window. Rain beat down against the empty city. Clouds drifted across the sky, leaving several patches visible. 

"The stars are different here." I said. 

"Hmm?"

"The stars." I lifted my hand upward. I pointed toward the window to show him what I meant. "Pegasus is supposed to be right there. It's gone. The only one there is Andromeda."

Andromeda. The chained woman. 

The irony was not lost upon me. 

My ring was my chain; Miguel my warden. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to take the ring off or to truly push him away.

He pressed another kiss against my back. This time, I could feel the stubble of his jaw scrape against my skin. 

"You're warm." I murmured. He smiled against my skin. 

"I'm glad." He gently sucked on the soft piece of skin. I gasped, feeling his fangs graze for a moment. Though, by the time the sound had left my lips, he had already pulled back. 

"Sorry." He said. He inspected his handiwork on my flesh, making sure that he had not broken the skin.

I glanced over my shoulder, watching him as he slid his fingers along the skin of my back. He was enjoying getting to touch me. He could still see the novelty in how new it was.

When he shifted under me, I felt the hard shape of his erection brush the back of my thigh.

Without thinking, I glanced over my shoulder again. I leaned backward, moving until my back touched his chest. I looked up at him. His eyes were warm and soft. 

"What?" He asked. Without a word, I kissed him. He sighed against my mouth, moving slowly and carefully. As he did, I felt a familiar want beginning to stir inside of me. Slowly, I pulled away from him. I then tried to move off of his leg and was mildly surprised when he didn't try to hold me down. Instead, I lifted my hips upward and began to rearrange myself in the water, moving so that one leg sat on either side of his hips. 

I slid my legs around his waist and then pushed myself closer to him. The bottom of the cast iron tub was slick beneath us. It was hard to arrange myself in the water, but somehow I managed. Miguel leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against my lips. As he did, I lifted my hands upward and grabbed his shoulders for leverage.

“Careful, careful.” Miguel said. He placed a hand on the curve of my back to make sure that I didn’t slip in the water. 

“Aww, so you can be nice.” 

I smiled as I slid my hands across his strong shoulders. I could feel all of the muscles flex under my fingertips. A soft smirk painted his lips. God, he was gorgeous. It wasn't fair for one person to look this perfect.

But, looking at him, he looked like he was bone tired.

He leaned in for another kiss, but I bobbed backward. He already looked clean enough; I wanted to tell him to get out of the water and go to bed.

"What's wrong?" He asked. He looked hard at my face, searching for something in my features. But, before I could speak, he followed it up with another question. "Are you scared of me?" He asked. 

"What?" It caught me off guard.

"You heard me. Are you?" 

A little bit. 

"I don't think you would hurt me." I said. It wasn’t a lie.

“I would never hurt you.” His hands drifted to my face. Gently, his traced his fingers along the curve of my jaw, taking in every feature. “But, are you scared of me?” 

I knew exactly what he was referring to. The eyes, the fangs, even the sheer size of him was intimidating. But, under all of that, he was still just Miguel. Even if he wasn’t my version of him, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. 

“No.” I said. He offered a faint smile that didn’t meet his eyes. He didn’t believe me, but he seemed grateful that I would be willing to tell him what he wanted. 

“I love you.” He said. 

“I love you, too.” He smiled at my words. I knew that it would make him happy to hear them. They were only three little words, yet they seemed to mean everything to him. 

As I watched his face, I couldn't help but notice how exhausted he looked.

"You look tired. You didn’t sleep last night. You haven’t slept any of the other nights, either. I woke up to go to the bathroom around four and you were still awake. " I said. 

“Yes, I did sleep.”

“I saw you… Please just be honest with me.”

“Aren’t I always?”

“No, you never are.” He rolled his eyes at the accusation. “Why don’t you ever sleep?” I asked. Rain continued its assault on the roof, growing louder as the storm reached its peak.

“I usually can’t.” Thunder rolled so loud that I looked toward the window. 

“Bad dreams.” A dark tendril of hair fell across his forehead. I reached forward and gently brushed it out of the way. 

“About what?”

He shook his head before he pressed another kiss against my lips. That was his way of changing the conversation. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to talk about it.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered. His hand snaked between our naked bodies. Without hesitation, he grazed my clit with the pad of one of his fingers.

I gasped at the sudden touch. But, I didn’t move away. His index finger swirled over the bundle of nerves, forcing my toes to curl. I inched my body closer to him, begging for him not to stop. 

He rubbed faster and faster. I could feel myself getting closer to finishing. Miguel watched me with a burning intensity; his eyes were dark lust as he worked. I ground my hips against his fingers, feeling the pleasure beginning to grow in my lower stomach.

Suddenly, it overtook me. I gasped and almost fell forward from how suddenly a blinding warmth shot through me. Each touch was too much; it felt like I was on fire. Miguel caught me before I could tumble off of his body. He held me as I twitched on top of him, spasming from his gentle touches.

As I began to drift back down from the orgasm, I could feel his cock as it lay against his stomach. He was painfully hard. Every time I would bob a little too far forward in the water, I would brush into it, feeling just how desperate he was. 

“I think it’s time to call it a night.” I whispered.

“You don’t want to stay in here with me, sweetheart?” His voice was velvety and sweet; his little nickname for me was lined with lust.

“No, because I’m not on birth control. You’re going to end up knocking me up.” I said it partially as a joke. 

He didn’t laugh.

Oh.

“Miguel.”

“We have children in every universe.” He said it so softly and calmly that it was as if he was saying the sun was yellow and the sky was blue. It simply was the way of the universe; it was how things were and always would be. 

“We didn’t in mine.” I said.

“Because he died. Besides, it wasn’t for a lack of trying.” My face turned bright red. There was something in the way that he said the last part that raised a suspicion I hadn't had before.

“Were you ever watching?” I asked. 

“Not from outside of the window or anything like that, but I did catch… glimpses in your timeline.”

“Miguel!”

“I was working!” He defended himself. “I never watched went out of my way to watch you two when you were… intimate. The only times that I ever spied on you were when you were alone.”

“What do you mean when I was alone?” I remembered the photos of me that I had found in the box. 

“When he was at work and I thought something would happen to you; when I was worried about you.”

He was telling the truth, at least as far as I could tell. 

“Why didn’t you ever spy on him and I?” I asked. I expected him to say that he respected me too much to do that. Then again, he treated me like a pet, so it was rather questionable how much he respected me.

“Jealousy, mostly.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve been alone for a long time, sweetheart. He had you and he was always working; he was always gone.” He said.

“You’re always gone, too.” He frowned at the statement. 

Maybe all of the versions of him truly were the same. Based on how he winced, he seemed to be considering that fact.

“He couldn’t protect you because he was never there.” He said.

“Nothing happened to me. There was nothing to protect me from.” 

“But there could have been.” He was obsessed with the idea that I was fragile. Which, I mean, compared to him, I was. But he still didn’t have to be this worried. 

He was haunted by the idea of me dying and obsessed with the idea of saving me. Maybe it was to make up for his past failures.

“I’ve lost you in countless timelines. I could never risk it.” He winced. “But, you’re here now and you’re safe. You’ll always be mine and I’ll always be yours.” He said. We belonged to each other, whenever or wherever we were. The notion both charmed and chilled me. But, one of those feelings quickly won over the other. Or maybe it was just the lingering effects of the previous orgasm.

“Do you want me?” I asked. I was hoping to sound sexy; I just sounded pathetic. 

“More than anything.” 

I leaned forward and gently grabbed his cock. He groaned, lifting his hips  upward so that I could have better access. I slid my hand up and down several times before I moved my body closer to him. As I moved, he held onto me, making sure that I didn’t slip in the tub. I carefully lined him up with my entrance, feeling another wave of want wash through me. I curled one arm around his shoulder. 

“Ready?” He asked. I nodded quickly as I clung to him.

I whimpered when he slid inside. My fingers dug into his shoulders. He groaned as he sunk all the way in. I felt my body stretch, trying to accommodate him. 

After a moment, I pushed my legs into the tub and lifted myself upward. He curled one arm around my waist, watching me in wonder and awe as I slid down again, making us both groan. 

I lifted one hand off of his shoulder. His body had been through enough tonight. I didn't want to risk the one-in-a-million chance that I grabbed onto a sore spot. I gripped the cold edge of the tub to balance myself. But, just as suddenly as I had placed it there, it was pulled off. Miguel pulled my hand into his, lacing our fingers together. 

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against my lips. I smiled, giving into his mouth. The kiss was brief; it was broken when I gasped against him mouth, feeling a warm pleasure begin to grow inside of me.

I bounced my hips, feeling him hit deep with every movement. I moaned. My stomach was beginning to tighten. 

He tightened his hold on my hand. One of his fingers brushed over the ring that I was still wearing.

I was his. I belonged to him. 

As if he could read my mind, he pressed his lips against mine again. 

When he pulled away, he said "Open your eyes."

I did as told. My eyes met his as I slid downward on his cock. Then, before my body could meet his, he thrusted upward, making me gasp.

"Keep looking at me." He said. I nodded as I lifted my hips upward. He groaned, quickly burying himself deep inside of me. He wanted to watch the way my face twitched with pleasure when he fucked me. He wanted to see what he did to me; what power he had over me.

I tightened my hold on his hand. If he was a normal man, I was sure I would have accidentally broken one of his fingers from how hard I was gripping him. 

I lifted my hips, then brought them down on him just as he slammed inside of me. We did it over and over again, forcing out gasps and moans from each other. 

“Miguel, I’m close! Don’t stop!” I moaned. I was so damn close. I could feel the tightening in my lower stomach every time he sheathed himself inside of me.

Then, all at once, I felt a wave of heat wash over me.

I gasped, clenching around him as I came undone. Pleasure coursed through my body, making my toes curl and my head fall back. Miguel pressed a kiss to the base of my throat as he hammered inside of me, not stopping his pace.

After a moment, he let out a low groan. He moaned my name and I was suddenly very aware of the warm fluid that filled me. It was leaking down my upper thighs and into the water around us.

The pleasure began to fade away. I gasped, trying to catch the breath that I had been holding. Miguel smiled and leaned back against the tub, his body tired and spent. A mixture of sweat and water glistened against his skin. 

It was around three in the morning. I could feel the exhaustion beginning to sink into my bones.

I moved to climb off of him, but just as he had last time, he held me in place. One hand held my hips in place, pinning me on top of him. I sighed, giving up any notion of fighting. It was useless; his grip was ironclad.

"Let me hold you... just for a little while." His voice was soft. His other hand drifted to the curve of my back. He pulled me forward, moving me until my chest lay against his. 

"I'm tired." I murmured. 

"I know, sweetheart."

I leaned my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes. I could hear his heart in my ear. Its strumming was low and steady. His skin was warm. "I missed you." he said. 

I wasn't sure if he was talking to me directly, or some distant memory of me. But I would take what I could get. 

"I missed you, too." 

He pressed a gentle kiss against my damp hair. Outside, lightning cut across the sky. 

@levisbebe @amplsblog​ @spider-biter​ @taleiak​ @ladyfairenvale​ (I tried to tag everyone who asked! I’m sorry if I missed you!)

[astronnonyy]

I've noticed some misconceptions about how Dark's powers work in my time in the fandom, some of which I believed myself, so I thought I'd make a post going over their powers and how they seem to work within AvA canon. I'm mostly just making this for my own reference, but hopefully this will be useful for other people too 👍

(For the record, I'm not trying to call out or criticize anyone by making this, it's purely for reference purposes. You do whatever you want when writing/drawing stuff)

Without Wristbands

Without the wristbands introduced in The Showdown, Dark only has three* powers that we're ever shown, compared to the four+ that Chosen has, which I will describe below.

The power they use the most is pyrokinesis, much like Chosen has. They can create fire, and use fire to fly.

They're also shown to be able to breathe fire like Chosen does, despite not having a visible mouth (ie. A pac man mouth).

Dark can also create what I can only think to call fire bombs, and has done so in every episode they've appeared in. These are unique to them and Firefox, and Chosen is not shown to share this ability, (which leads me to believe that this is not directly linked to their shared pyrokinesis abilities).

*I'm not sure if this counts as one power or two, but I'm going to talk about them as two facets of one power.

Dark and Chosen both seem to possess some sort of heightened physical resilience, as well as super strength. Being thrown through walls, and throwing others through walls, with little to no actual damage being sustained.

(It's difficult to get proper screenshots of this, but you can see it in just about every scene the two are part of.)

There's also. whatever the hell this attack was. which I can only think to put under this section, because they never do anything like this again.

At no point is Dark shown to have laser eyes as part of their normal powers.

With Wristbands

With the wristbands, Dark's power set completely changes. They're never shown using their normal powers again after this point, which leads me to think they may not be able to, though that's 100% speculation on my part.

They gain a number of new abilities, as well as a boost to their physical strength and resilience, seeming to surpass Chosen's abilities. Specific powers and abilities are described below.

They gain multiple abilities previously used by the Virabots, including the ability to fly/levitate without the use of fire (which they could not do previously), and summon spikes that delete things they hit.

There's also some things that seem to be unique to them in this state, namely being some sort of black energy balls they can throw, laser eyes of their own, and, most iconically, the ability to summon the V blade.

The exact properties of these abilities (minus the blade) are unclear.

The V blade, however, is a sharp, sword-like weapon, which has the ability to cut through and instantly destroy normal stick figures, reducing them to code. It, alongside the Virabots themselves, also seems to severely weaken both Chosen and Alan's cursor, ultimately destroying the latter and kicking Alan out of the battle.

Dark seems to be able to easily outpace Chosen with the wristbands on, throwing them around and eventually pinning them down with the help of the Virabots.

It also appears that they may have gained an immunity/resistance to Chosen's laser eyes, or at least they're less concerned about them. Previously in both AvA 3 and The Showdown, they're shown to run away and avoid being hit by the lasers, but after putting on the wristbands, they tank laser beams with no hesitation.

I don't really have much of a conclusion to this post, so I'll leave it here for now. Hopefully this is useful, or at least interesting, to others! ✌

[drops-of-moonlights]

I want for all my Mario stuff to have an unique look, my own take on them. So I've been slowly redesigning the cast to fit that! I still have plenty of characters to go but for now, I wanna post the ones I have done. Mario, Luigi, Bowser, Junior, Peach, Daisy, Wario and Waluigi! Design tibdits below:

For the Bros. I wanted for them to still have the same base but play around with it a bit more - Luigi patches up his overalls, Mario just lets them rip, different tops to better showcase personality with Mario using button-ups and Luigi sweaters, different boots for the same reason, and also adding a bit more scruff on them both to age them up a bit since for my take they're in their early 30's, taking place after what one would consider "game canon". They also both wear a pin/badge that shows who they're romantically involved with! (Mario with a Bowser badge, Luigi with one of Daisy's brooches)

Bowser's just wearing what I always draw him in lol - combat pants and boots with a light tanktop alongside his usual cuffs. Junior's outfit is inspired by his Wonder transformation because it's cool as hell and it fits my Junior who's a teenager (around 14). Royal Bowser and Junior are his "diplomatic meeting" outfits, a kamishimo for Bowser and a regular hakama and haori for Junior, based off Bowser's Kingdom in Odyssey being so Japanese-inspired (though the headdress and horn decor is original, and has a gem cut to look like fire.

Peach and Daisy don't change all that much, with Peach I mainly took a bit from her movie design, made the crown bigger and more ornate and changed her brooch for a heart shape that mimics a peach for themeing. she's also fuller-figured because the idea of Peach being peach-shaped is cute and also both Bowser and Mario have a Type™ so it would be neat for her to fit it too lol. Daisy I just made her wear a pantsuit because a) I like pantsuits b) it creates a greater contrast between her and Peach. I also made it more flowery to fit her decór more. Like with the Koopa royals they also get a more casual/adventure-ready set, based on different outfits from Odyssey (Peach) and Mario Kart Tour (Daisy).

Finally for this batch, the wahs! Who won't take much long to elaborate on - I fused Wario's normal outfit with his WarioWare look and Waluigi got something that would match it, though I was inspired by this pic by Fumihide Aoki, Waluigi's creator, that is insanely good.

[luxaofhesperides]

decided to make an actually useful pinned post so here we go:

i have a newsletter that goes out every so often with my thoughts on things, what i'm reading, and occasionally a look at my original wips. it's totally free bc this is just a little thing i do for fun. subscribe if u want! here's the link

all of my writing can be found under the 'my writing' tag. edits, usually book edits, are under 'my edit'.

my ao3 is aryelee and every fic i post in here is also posted over there so if youre having trouble finding something, that's where you should go!

all my random thoughts are tagged as 'rambles' and when i live blog the comics im reading, i use 'comic read' so block either of those if you don't want me clogging ur dash.

below the cut is a look at all of my wips at the tags i use for them

ORIGINAL WIPS

this darkness swallows us whole ; the very first wip i ever started when i first began writing. it's a hot mess with too many uncompleted first drafts, but i love it so much. demons, gray morality, and one mute girl ready to start throwing hands. - #camellia

every other face ; superhero wip! with a villain taking in a child and trying to live a normal life despite the hero, her main nemesis, constantly popping in to make sure the kid is safe and she hasn't decided to cause trouble. - #caerleon community

past the pages ; isekai wip focusing on the characters trying to figure out what went wrong when the 'villainess' goes missing, ruining the happy ending the protagonist was expecting

- no tag yet! will update once i post about the wip on here.

DC

these aren't wings, they're futures ; in which tim and damian travel back in time to when jason was robin, and try to make this new timeline better while avoiding being caught by the bats for the illegal things they're doing as very young children. - ao3 link - #these arent wings

medium!tim verse ; in which tim is a medium who helps ghosts. three timelines planned: canon, polaris, and civilian. - ao3 link - #medium tim verse

manako ; my dc oc, a very tired, no nonsense baker in gotham who doesn't want to deal with bats begging for snacks in the middle of the night. ocs everywhere, and a look into the community of gotham and the life of civilians. - ao3 link (to be made) - #manako

OTHER

ghostlights requests (dc x dp) ; fics made for danny fenton/duke thomas prompts sent in to me. currently not accepting prompts. - ao3 link - #prompt fill

those who serve (dc x dp) ; danny is taken in by alfred and works as his apprentice in wayne manor. - ao3 link - #alfred's apprentice au

the harmless series (dc x dp) ; danny is reincarnated as damian's older brother + the fallout of remembering - masterpost of all parts - #the harmless series

my askbox is always open if you want to know more about any of these!

(last edited: 7.21.24)

[ygodmyy20]

Opps this post got forgotten! But if I don't post it today when will I!?

Okay so, I've been thinking for awhile on the question: why do I like terumob and why did it take over my brain? What is it about it...what caught my interest. As someone who was very NOT into ships when i first got into mp100, why did I crashland into this one?

This post has been in progress for like....weeks now? Nearly a month? 3 months? Yea.

Okay so. Here we go. THOUGHTS! On terumob and why the fuck I like it. Below the cut.

Like I mentioned, when I first finished Mob Psycho 100 in June of this year I wasn't into any ship. I was actually REALLY NOT into ships. I really liked gen. I wanted to explore the characters and I loved the complex relationships between everyone but I didn't want it to be overshadowed by romance. I purposely steered clear of any and all ship art.

But then I started to see some TeruMob fanart and I was like "Aw man, they are so cute and squishy." And I started to like them....just a lil bit. ONLY A LITTLE BIT.

BUT then I read more Teru-centric fics, read Teru analysis' and then I was like. Oh shit, Teru is 100% so into Mob it's like....this kid has it bad. He has a major crush. And even on the rewatch I am like WOW yep, confirmed in my brain, Teru has it bad. The subtext of his pinning is JUST so there for me. I didn't even have to look hard for it. I suddenly was very in on the Teru-one-sidded part of the ship.

But here's the thing, I'm not a big fan of ships like that... feels too unrequited. Hard for me to really like it. I need to have some level of something from both sides. Just how I am.

So that still leaves the question.

When and how does Shiego liking Teru work? Is there any subtext for that or am I just making it all up because I want the ship to work for me?

(which also is fine ya'll, no judgement if you ship two characters that barely interact, thats the fun of fandom stuff!)

I mean, all things considered, Shigeo likes Tsubomi. Scratch that, he REALLY likes Tsubomi. Shiego loves very strongly, like all his emotions. And he definitely likes Teru, they are good friends, so I kept thinking: where and how does that cross into a crush to me, for these characters?

Teru cares a lot, he adores Shigeo—Shigeo is kind, he is powerful, he is everything Teru wants to be. But are there places where I see this same level of intensity from Shigeo?

Annnnnnnnd then I got to their fight in season 3.

Everything Shiego did to Teru was so pointed. So raw and angry. Like I said, I think Shigeo feels his feelings very strongly and, I don't know, just the fact that he PERSUED Teru to humiliate him EXACTLY in the same way again, tells me that their first meeting had an intense impact on him. We don't see a lot of his feelings on his meeting with Teru, besides the brief ??? in that episode. After meeting Teru, it's just...life goes on as normal for them. But deep down I don't think Shigeo ever really tackled his complex feelings about Teru and their first meeting.

So it all comes out, its all be stewing for AGES, and what comes out is mean. It's aggressive. It's almost sarcastic? It's what happens when we let things chew us up inside and comes out all twisted.

Teru evoked such a strong reaction from Shigeo, even if Shigeo didn't admit it or express it, that I can't help but think, after things have settled, after he has spent more time adjusting to his whole self...after they both take time to really examine themselves and grow....

....that Shigeo wouldn't develop stronger feelings for this boy who also turned his world upside down. Who made him feel such strong emotions, who changed his world too.

Teru was forever changed by meeting another esper his age.

I think Shiego was too.

And I think where I started to love them was after the finale, after Teru's acceptance of Shiego for who he was.

I don't want to pigeonhole any of the espers into only being able to date other espers. But I also....yes, Shiego is a normal kid, but he is also Shiego.

Teru is a person who understands the strength it takes to keep that power, who has seen Shiego at all sides. His best and his worst.

But gosh this scene....

OUGHGGH

JUST THROW ME IN A RIVER WHY DON"T YOU

Yeah this whole scene just.....just yea. OUGH.

But yeah I just feel like Teru's crush would only grow after that. He would see Shigeo as a person over an all powerful esper.

While I like to think Shigeo's would develop over time and them smack into him like a runaway freight train. Because Shigeo FEELS so strongly, for all his emotions. He feels sadness strongly, he feels love strongly, he feels anger strongly—he just feels everything SO strongly. That is why he is powerful, that is why he is who he is, that is why ??? became what it is.

Anyway. My thoughts have ended and that's all i got. Thanks for coming to my ted talk of rambling mess that has been in progress for months that I realized whelp with the anniversary of the end of S3 nearly here, mind as well post it.

[ofliterarynature]

TBR TAKEDOWN: Week 1 (June 2)

TLDR: I have too many unread books, and I’m asking tumblr to help me downsize. Pick one or none, we are keeping it simple and friendly! Book descriptions below the cut, see my pinned post for more info. Comments and questions welcome!

A collection of blue covers to start us off!

The Language of Thorns by Leigh Bardugo

Tbh I’ve kind of given up on Bardugo at this point, especially the grishaverse, but I like myths/folktales.

Love speaks in flowers. Truth requires thorns.

Travel to a world of dark bargains struck by moonlight, of haunted towns and hungry woods, of talking beasts and gingerbread golems, where a young mermaid's voice can summon deadly storms and where a river might do a lovestruck boy's bidding but only for a terrible price.

Inspired by myth, fairy tale, and folklore, #1 New York Times—bestselling author Leigh Bardugo has crafted a deliciously atmospheric collection of short stories filled with betrayals, revenge, sacrifice, and love.

Perfect for new readers and dedicated fans, these tales will transport you to lands both familiar and strange—to a fully realized world of dangerous magic that millions have visited through the novels of the Grishaverse.

When I’m Gone Look for Me in the East by Quan Barry

I really enjoyed the author’s first book! I admit I’m less drawn to this one based just on the description, but not uninterested. The most recent addition to my shelves this week.

From the acclaimed author of We Ride Upon Sticks comes a luminous novel that moves across a windswept Mongolia, as estranged twin brothers make a journey of duty, conflict, and renewed understanding.

Tasked with finding the reincarnation of a great lama—a spiritual teacher who may have been born anywhere in the vast Mongolian landscape—the young monk Chuluun sets out with his identical twin, Mun, who has rejected the monastic life they once shared. Their relationship will be tested on this journey through their homeland as each possesses the ability to hear the other’s thoughts.

Proving once again that she is a writer of immense range and imagination, Quan Barry carries us across a terrain as unforgiving as it is beautiful and culturally varied, from the western Altai mountains to the eerie starkness of the Gobi Desert to the ancient capital of Chinggis Khaan. As their country stretches before them, questions of faith—along with more earthly matters of love and brotherhood—haunt the twins.

Are our lives our own, or do we belong to something larger? When I’m Gone, Look for Me in the East is a stunningly far-flung examination of our individual struggle to retain our convictions and discover meaning in a fast-changing world, as well as a meditation on accepting what simply is.

The Assassin’s Curse by Cassandra Rose Clarke

I don’t know? I’ve had these for so long. But it’s got sailing ships, pirates, and assassins, so…

Ananna of the Tanarau abandons ship when her parents try to marry her off to an allying pirate clan: she wants to captain her own boat, not serve as second-in-command to her handsome yet clueless fiance. But her escape has dire consequences when she learns the scorned clan has sent an assassin after her. And when the assassin, Naji, finally catches up with her, things get even worse. Ananna inadvertently triggers a nasty curse -- with a life-altering result. Now Ananna and Naji are forced to become uneasy allies as they work together to break the curse and return their lives back to normal. Or at least as normal as the lives of a pirate and an assassin can be.

[yonduismarrypoppins]

Hi, 👋

I hope you’re doing okay.

I’m writing with a heavy heart to seek your help. Can you reblog this post on your account to help save my family? I am new to Tumblr and GoFundMe, and we urgently need your support 🙏❤️.

Thank you so much 🌹

Hello Abdallah! Thank you for sharing, I hope I can help you and your family leave Gaza safely!

Below is their story from the pinned post!

I am Abdallah Ismail, a 27-year-old Palestinian from Gaza. My life and that of my family have been profoundly affected by the war, and I reach out to you now in hopes of receiving your support and assistance during these challenging times.

My Family

My family consists of seven members: my father lyad Ismail (53 years old), my mother Faten Ismail (48 years old), my sister Saja Ismail (26 years old) and her son Alaa (7 months old), my brother Ahmed Ismail (23 years old), and my little sister (9 years old) en my uncle has quadriplegia (64years old) , We lived a simple life, but one filled with dreams and aspirations.

“Pursuing a Bright Future: Our Dreams Were Cut Short by the Outbreak of War"

The Beginning of the Crisis

On January 5, 2024, 2 months after the war began, my family was forced to flee our home. During our escape from El maghazi Camp to Rafah, our house was destroyed by an airstrike. My sister lost her husband, leaving her with their five-day-old son after just one year of marriage. Our car, which contained all our essential documents and savings, was also destroyed in the attack.

"Our beloved home, once a sanctuary of joy, now lies in ruins, leaving us heartbroken."

Daily Challenges

In Rafah, my family faced exorbitant rent prices of $1,500 per month for a tiny room, and now my family returned again to Elmaghazi camp Their living conditions are extremely challenging. My family live in one cramped space that serves them their kitchen, bathroom, and sleeping area. The room is infested with insects, making it unsanitary, and my young nephew has difficulty breathing in this environment.

My little sister had to abandon her studies, and my brother Ahmed, who had just graduated before the war, saw his newly started career come to an abrupt halt.

Their daily lives have become a relentless fight for survival.

"These are the harsh conditions we face every day as we try to endure this war."

Hope and Resilience

Every day we wake up with a glimmer of hope that the war will end, though fear remains ever-present. We are determined to overcome this ordeal and return to our normal lives. We need your help to secure medical care for our family, resume our education, and rebuild our tuture.

• To note: Aladdin Aladdin Imad Ismail is a child no more than 7 months old who was born during this war and his father was killed during it and he became an orphan.

• To note: Sahman Ahmed Abdel Rahman Ismail is a man suffering from quadriplegia and needs continuous treatments and constant follow-up by doctors, and most of his medicine is not available in Gaza in these difficult times, not to mention the lack of hospitals in light of the current conditions

A Plea for Help

We desperately need your assistance. Any support you can provide, whether financial or emotional, will make a significant impact on our lives. Please share our story and help us raise funds to evacuate to Egypt and find safety.

From the bottom of our hearts, we thank you for any help you can offer. Your kindness and generosity in these trying times will never be forgotten.

Thank you,

Abdallah Ismail

Please donate to their gofundme and help this family get out of Gaza!

[lacebird]

Hi! Would it be possible to post a tutorial of how you created the text in this post /post/707087448305451008/removing-yellow-tint-on-photopea-heyyyyyy thank you :)

💜 TYPOGRAPHY TUTORIAL (PHOTOPEA EDITION) 💜

Hi anon! It's really easy! here's how i do it! <3 as always, basic gifmaking knowledge is required. feel free to ask if you have more questions <3

tutorial below the cut 💜

i. prep-work & coloring

You write out your text as normal in white, then you change the blend mode to exclusion

right-click on your text layer, and click on blending options to open the layer style window. Tick the color overlay box and click on the tab. there you'll be able to change the overlay color and the blend mode (i used pin light for this, but you might have to play around with the color and blend modes to find the one best for your gif)

(i also added a background color to match the text)

at this point you'll also want to add drop shadow to make the text readable. i usually turn down the distance to 0 and keep the rest of the settings as is, except maybe increase the opacity (which i didn't do here bc i'm laaaaazyyy)

ii. wobbly text

okay! so now the coloring bit is done. double-click on the white square on your text layer to select all of your text. on the top of the page you'll see options to change font, text size etc (idk what this is called but you know what it is). you'll need to click on the box that says wrap

click on style > flag, and then you'll be able to adjust how "wobbly" you want the text to be (in this example the bend is at 40%)

press okay and you're done! hooray!

iii. white outline

the last step is to add a line to make the text pop even more. first, create a new blank layer

right-click on your text layer and click on select pixels. click on the blank layer you just created. then you go to edit > stroke. these are the settings i use.

after pressing ok, you'll now have a white outline around your text. move the outline layer around until you're happy

this is how it looks when it's done!

really not my best work but :P this scene is meant for a different gifset but i kinda like this coloring lol hope this answers your question!

[morbsxadorbs]

so I heard people were posting their ita bags again

I posted my Zemo ita bag a while ago, but!! have had to redo the backing recently

bc, as people wiser than me probably would’ve known, purple glitter-covered EVA foam sheds (to the point where I still haven’t got all the remnants off the inside of my windows)

the base is just from amazon, and everything inside is fan merch bc mousecorp neglects my boy like they have a grudge from artists on etsy (some of whom I found through here first and have been tagged accordingly)

bag tour under the cut to save dash space

okay so for the main body of the bag:

the smug zemo w/ wine is from @tinymintywolf

the reclining zemo in the bottom pocket with more wine is from @injureddreams

zemo’s EKO Scorpion dog tag is actually a pin from projectLUNAROCK

(I tried to sharpen the definition of the letters, but my camera isn’t cooperating :’D)

the Zemo lego mini-fig is from one of the many shops on etsy selling them, there’s a ton

the suitkovia est. 2023 patch from cutecidesquad (it’s so funny how when I bought that I was like “pssht, that isn’t a real year!!” and now it’s almost 2025 OTL)

the masked zemo and the sleeping kitty zemo keychains are both from @nobledemons, where I also got the matching keychain below

the masked tsumtsum is a custom from bbearpops, also on etsy!! he’s a travel-sized travel buddy

finally, I’ve shown him here before, but here’s my chibi!Zemo commissioned years ago from Meizai on etsy. Idk that I’d keep him in a sleeve clipped to the bag like this if I was out and about, but I wanted to make sure he was included 🖤💜🗡️

(he doesn’t normally have a chin strap shadow, but I was working with the best lighting I had)

anyway!! I saw the tag taking off with all the disc horse from the clock app (Idk and I don’t want to know), so I just wanted to share. I tend to try to stick to one character or theme per bag myself, but hey man, no one’s keeping score here ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I love seeing the characters people get super passionate about, and how they style their bags accordingly. we’re all just bigass nerds on the internet.

[imaginethezeldaverse]

To the anon that had asked me last month about writing Yunobo and being put in a mating press............................

 I’m sorry this took me so long - truthfully I needed to build up the courage to write this holy fuck cause it was overwhelming to think about. I also lost the ask as I was writing this because Chrome decided not to cooperate which is why I don’t have the original ask on this post. Uhhhh...yeah! Allow me to lay my thirst below the cut oh my asdja. Let’s see what happens when you take a much more confident Tears of the Kingdom Yunobo, and pair that with a sprinkle of breeding and a full-on mating press 🥴 Hint: Something incredibly nasty. Reader is written female/afab because this lowkey self-indulgent bye 💗

It was a passing conversation. Something he swore he didn't mean to eavesdrop on, but in all fairness you weren't that far away from his particular earshot. You'd been chatting with Ramella who had just gotten back into town from her home in the Gerudo desert. He recalled hearing your squeal and at first thought something was wrong, but as he rounded the corner he realized it was a sound of embarrassed delight. "I'm telling you - you must ask your rock voe to hold you in a mating press while you passionately embrace. Ashai swears it's a delightful position," Ramella muses loudly at the way you're already blushing. "A-And it won't hurt when he pushes my knees toward my chest like that?" you stuttered, starting to swelter at the idea. The Gerudo merchant giggled at your question, nearly shouting she replied, "Not if you're flexible, it shouldn't!" "I-I suppose I could...ask..." you shyly mumbled back as you pressed your hands to your cheeks, face reddening by the second. Yunobo tucked his fingers to his chin in thought. Something you needed from him? Judging by your facial expressions and words, you sounded like you'd wanted whatever this hold was. But what exactly was it? Ramella mentioned it being a position, and he did overhear her say 'passionate embrace'...was it like a hug? "No that's not it, goro..." Yunobo said to himself, head tilting the opposite way as he thought further. Hugs don't normally involve your knees being at your chest last he checked; he also doesn't know you to be overly blushy about hugs in general. So what was so different about this 'mating pr--" And then it clicked. Now he understood why your cheeks were lighting up like a night lantern - and he couldn't stop himself from doing the same the more he thought about it himself. --- "Ahhh, Yunooo" you whined, back arching so your chest was further pinned to his. His colossal hand splayed across your back as he slowly filled you, his torso spreading your thighs as far apart as they could go. You relished in the feel of him, impossibly hard and thick inside of you - so much so your fingernails were already biting at his forearms. "Easy, goro...nice and ngh...slow, love..." he breathed into your ear. You had to applaud his restraint; Yunobo was always delicate with you at the beginning of your love-making, taking into consideration how much preparation and wherewithal it took for you to truly take him all in. Lashes fluttering from the deep stretch you moaned through a bitten lip at how the slight sting was dying out to pleasure now. Your hands slid up his arms, reaching to wrap around his neck. The Goron champion lifted his head just enough to seal his lips over yours, his hips drawing back and then thrusting forward. Your mewl into his mouth had him gripping you a little tighter, though his pace was kept exactly how you needed it for the moment: slow, hard, and as deep as your pussy would allow him. Each thrust would acclimate you, bend you to the shape of him and open you further. "Feel...good?..." Yunobo panted, blue eyes darkening to a rich navy as his eyelids fell halfway. Your lip was snatched between your teeth, your head leaning to the side, exposing your neck. "Yes! Ungh, goddess yessss!" And he believed you. With your breasts shaking under him, your lips parted in a semi-permanent 'O' and the feel of your hands holding onto him for dear life, he believed he was delivering your body the summation of his love and lust just fine. But something nudged at the back of Yunobo's mind, a pebble of a thought. He removed his hand from your back, gliding his palms down your hips and slotting under your knees. His body stilled for a moment, the sudden cease of his actions sending chills down your spine and causing you to flutter around his length. Your Goron beau hissed in a pleasured wince, before sitting upright on his knees and pushing yours to your chest. Your breath fell short as you were gently folded, still stuffed half-full with Goron cock. "Mmm..." Yunobo purred, a tinge of grit and machismo in tone. He leaned back over, caging your legs in place with his biceps, "Like...this, right, goro?" Eyes blown wide at how he could possibly known what you’d been silently working up the courage to ask, you gasped as he sunk back into you again. This position had him working into you deeper now, hitting a spot inside you that had your voice keening in another octave. Stars gathered behind your eyelids, your senses clouded with only the pleasure that stroked your walls and the sound of Yunobo's low grunting in the crook of your neck. He thanked Hylia for placing him in the right place at the right time - Ramella was right, this position was incredible to have you in. Something surged in his chest - fire and power lit his blood aflame as he felt the need to move faster inside you. Hoarse pants and sweetened moans dove into deeper growls and teeth-gritting grunts as he fed your body thrust after thrust after thrust. The hard edges of his hips smacked against your thighs, and you clawed desperately at his arms for purchase. Your breathy moans sang heavenly in your Goron’s ears as he hit a sensitive spot inside you.  “Oh! Ahhhhhhn, Yunobo, I--!” you cried out, your body aching to have him even closer than he was already. His thrusts grew sloppier as Yunobo let his instincts take him - barreling past the line of gentler sex with you and straight into full fucking you. His mind drove him to one objective: fill you up. With the way your hands dug into him, the bend in your spine with your head thrown back, and even the flex of your calves that most undoubtedly meant your toes were curling in absolute pleasure - you were close and he knew it. Yunobo’s powerful fingers ground harshly into the smooth surface beneath you both, cracking the build of his sculpted bed.  In your ear he panted low, “You gonna cum soon, love? I can hnnnk, feel it, y’know,” he licked a wet strip along the side of your neck, the slight hint of salt on his tongue, “So good to me...oooooh so good for me...gonna f-fill you up haaaahhh, sweetheart...you’ll take it, wontcha?”  His babbled, passionate words were sending your nerves into a frenzy, your cunt clenching around him as the ebb and flow of your release crept up your limbs.  “YES!” you sobbed, whole body wracked with desire, “Yunobo, please, I’m so close, mmmmf I’m, I-I’m...!”  Your words cut short at the sharp, empty scream of your voice, a blast of heat and ecstasy ripping through your entire body. Yunobo groaned heavily at feel of your pussy clamping tight on him, milking his cock with your rippling silken heat until even he could hold on no longer.  “That’s it, love, thaaaat’s it. All of it, goro, hahhh ffff--” His orgasm shot through him at lightning speed - a series of moans tumbling from his throat akin to a rough crescendo as he came buried deep inside you. The brawn in his thrusts softened to simple rolls in his hips as his growling lightened to airy huffs. His spent cock had emptied as much of him as would fit in your poor pussy, and when he pulled out of you - the wet squelch of it dribbling from your hole was unmistakable. Carefully, Yunobo set your legs down, making sure not to move too quickly so you could acclimate. When he was sure you were okay, you were easily flipped to sit in his lap, his arms tucking behind your back and holding you close. A gentle nuzzle of his nose on your cheek stirred you from the high of your post-coital bliss, followed by the cover of lips to your still heated skin, “I didn’t hurt you...did I?” came Yunobo’s meek whisper, tickling your ear. You sleepily shook your head in a negative and proceeded to rest on his chest.  He hummed quietly, “I’m glad...I don’t know what came over me, goro...I just...ya felt so good and then suddenly I was hit with this strange urge...” His chin rested on your head gently, “Felt like fire was in my blood - and the only thing ready t’quench it was all those n-noises you were makin’” You could hear the nerves in his voice tangled up in his words, the sense of him feeling like he did something wrong clouding his thoughts. A soft press of your lips to his pectoral, “It was incredible, Yunobo...every bit of it,” you nuzzled into his chest some more, “I wouldn’t mind doing it again like that at all.”  That seemed to lay the Goron a little more lax, albeit with wildly flushed cheeks. His hand rubbed soothing circles into your back, the other, affectionately coming to the back of your head.  You would definitely have to remember to thank Ramella later - though you were sure she was being loud during your conversation on purpose now. As you shifted you felt liquid traveling down your thighs.  “Yuno...maybe we should hit the hot spring, I um...i-it’s starting to,” stuttered you, face growing more crimson by the second. Immediately Yunobo caught what you meant, “O-Oh! Yes, let's! S-S-Sorry, hold on.” You were lifted bridal style in his arms, shifted only slightly in his hold so he could give you your dress and slip his fundoshi back on.  “I can walk, hunny,” you giggled, sweet smile accompanied by a reassuring look. Yunobo chuckled back at you, pulling your frame a tad closer to his chest, “I know, but I figured I’d give ya a break after nearly foldin’ ya in half.” Your jaw dropped at his words, and it wasn’t until he realized what he’d said - and so casually at that - that his face turned as red as Goron spice. 

“F-FORGET I SAID THAT!”  The saccharine smile on your lips turned devious in a matter of seconds; accompanied by the fresh memory of his biceps hooked under your knees as he pounded away at you had it grow more devious still, “Oh Yunobo...never.” 

[wimpout]

Hello again, hell site. My name is Elijah, but just call me by Eli. Unfortunately, I am back with a different account. If you remember me by my old account, congratulations! Here's a cookie.

Once again, they/them. Nothing else. Try to guess my AGAB and I blow you up with my mind.

I believe I have the most normal and non-baised takes so if you even care you should check me out. I might see you around.

I kind of have memory issues for no reason to be disclosed. It just started happening around middle school so it's out of my control. If you send in an ask about my past I might need you to be specific or else I won't know what you mean.

Well. Ciao!

-🍂

PLEASE read below cut․ tutorial on how to contribute to the blog + a few warnings․

hello! welcome to the ooc section of this blog... please, read it through before interacting! don't worry, as much text as there is, there are brief summaries.

about the mun/mod!

my name is adon! of course, you could refer to me as adonciant or guy either. i dont mind! i go by he/him only, but if you want to use any neopronouns, feel free. i am a minor! my main is @adonciant, which is where likes and follows will come from. of course, all my rp blogs are also listed in my pinned on main!

when a post is signed off with ~🎱, that means its me speaking. it will always be paired with ooc post

─ⵌ call me adon, he/him! main is @adonciant! ~🎱 is muns signoff

interaction!

pelipper mail/unmail/malice: allowed!

musharna mail/malice: allowed!

mystery gifts: allowed!

magic anon: allowed!

in-character anon hate: allowed!

ooc/questions: allowed!

anyone is allowed to interact with my blogs! fallers, eeby deebys, hybrids, sapients, self-inserts, ocs, and in-game characters are all very welcomed!

if you ever want to start a roleplay, it's best to discuss it with me first within the blogs dms, unless i already allowed an offscreen post.

note: if i dont get around to an ask, never take it personally! i will always read any asks i get, but i just may not respond if i dont find it necessary.

─ⵌ all interaction from all blogs are allowed, but discuss offscreen roleplays with me beforehand. i may not be able to get around to your ask, but don't take it personally!

boundaries/notices

─the mod is a minor, and the character is 16! slightly suggestive asks are fine, but never should it come close to nsfw.

─if you ever want to establish a connection between our characters, or want to plan events with yours involved, im always open for it! just dm me on either discord [username is adonciant] or on tumblr itself. i will be more than willing to hear your ideas and see what we can do!

─often times, i will do long threads of interaction. i like to reblog back and interact, but if you ever want me to stop without a sign in the roleplay itself for it to end, please tell me! alongside this, my threads do not get tagged with anything.

─i can't fully predict the content warnings to this blog. due to the fact everything is up to anons, anything may be unsuspected. if anything pops up, it will be listed. this list is always subject to change, so stay aware. any triggering topics are tagged with associated tags ('topic' tw)

─ⵌ slighty suggestive asks are allowed, but nsfw is never allowed, always try to contact me if you want to establish connections or events, and heed the warnings! [you will need to read over the warnings.]

extra notes

this is NOT the same eli from before 11/24. complete design change! their personality is the same, however. and the story is reset!

heres the good part; how does this work???

in case you werent here for the first rendition; eli is a character who is collectively expanded upon by YOU!! the community of rotomblr!

logistically, if you wonder how it works with the fact these anons would seem to know an abnormal amount of information of eli, blame it on their old account they couldnt log into ^_^

how do you contribute, you ask?

simple! my asks are open. go ahead, ask them how their life is in galar. they'll respond as if their life is in galar. well, someone else already asked if they lived in unova? they live in unova! ask how their whimsicott is doing, because now they do indeed have a whimsicott! ask how their moms funeral was! because, uh oh, now they have no mom :(

not only are asks open, but every type of interaction is allowed, even up to magic anons. if eli reblogs an ask game, he either responds appropriately to how his story has been shaped out or how i see is fit to the rest of his character! want to send musharna malice that means him seeing a nightmare of his past? say it! send pelipper mail of clothing from his dead relatives? say that!

but its important that you dont overlook the existing information other people/anons have already asked about. if they really do live in unova, you cant go out of your way to try and forcefully retcon that information: as a reminder, its a collective to create a story for them.

all that i request is that you and the rest of rotomblr make a coherent story. you build off of previous information and make it into one, stable story. they could totally have been there for opelucid city freezing, but not for lysandre attempting to use the ultimate weapon at the same time.

here's a google doc of any previous information that cannot be rewritten

this intro/full body ref will be updated if need be.

[katieaki]

My ✨ post-apocalyptic Lesbian Cowgirl Mailman choose-your-own adventure✨ has just updated! Read it here for free on my Patreon and vote in the poll! There is a summary of the first part, here, and the second part, here. They have everything you need to know about Lou, her requited-but-complicated love, the religious assassin who just beat the tar out of her, the worst person she's ever met, and the ill-advised journey she is on! There is also now a discord where Pony Express readers from all across god's green internet can gather, here!

Happy trails, pard! Don't leave us with a bit of devastating and upsetting information before we take off on our journey through the unknown wilderness together!

Read it for free on my patreon! (Long) Excerpt below the cut.

“So, what, mommy issues? Daddy issues?” Artie asked as she lifted Lou’s hair up to tie the new sling for her.

“Excuse me?” Lou said. She craned her neck to look up at her, but the pain in her shoulder made her look back down at the ground.

“Sorry— just, what you said to Holliday yesterday,” Artie said. She tied a knot and smoothed Lou’s collar over it. “About parents.”

Lou rubbed her face with her good hand. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t mean to loop both of y’all into that,” she said. “It’s not real polite to assume people’s family situations.”

Skylark looked up from where she was consolidating two half-used jars of flour. There was a spray of white powder across her cheek. “Oh, no, you’re right. No mother but the Listening Lady, no father but Their Honor,” she said. “I was taken into a church orphanage and basically never left.”

“A dyed in the wool church girl,” Artie said with deep affection. She wiped the flour from Skylark’s face with a handkerchief and crouched down to start packing up her sewing kit. “I killed my mom.”

She was so casual about it that it took Lou a second to catch up. She looked up to meet Skylark’s eye. There was just a half second too much silence and Artie looked questioningly up at them.

“I’m so sorry, cousin,” Skylark said. “That must have been a difficult situation.”

Artie shrugged as she rolled the excess thread around a scrap of cardboard. “Nah. It’s fine. I got new parents. And my new dad killed my old dad,” she said.

There was another long silence. Lou wished she had two good hands so she could more easily occupy herself out of discomfort. 

“No— sorry, it’s a good thing. She’s knife church, too. My dad. My new dad. It’s a saga. I’m not trying to get into it,” Artie said. “All I was trying to say was… um. Same.” She gestured between her and Lou.

“Oh, no, it wasn’t like that, at all,” Lou said. She shouldn’t have even brought it up yesterday. Lots of people had actually bad childhoods. Hers was fine. Normal, even, when you think about it. It was embarrassing that it had been on her mind so much lately. She’d gone so long hardly thinking about it at all. “I just had a basic, average bad childhood. Less attention than I wanted, less food than we needed, that kind of thing. You know. I never had to stab my mom or anything.”

“No, I didn’t stab her,” Artie said. “I used my teeth.”

Lou’s mouth went dry. Artie had almost bitten her face when they were fighting that first night. She could have easily ripped Lou’s throat out when she had her pinned down to the ground. Lou wasn’t sure why that was so much more disturbing than when she only thought she was in real danger of being killed by a knife. It didn’t change how dead you were. A chill ran down Lou’s neck where Artie had just touched her to fix her sling. She had been right to be afraid of those teeth. 

“Artie,” Skylark said. She looked at Artie with a silent plea for her to stop talking that was so clear, even Lou could read it. Artie did not seem to register it for what it meant.

“Well, I didn’t have a knife! I was only like, seven years old!” she said.

[unspuncreature]

day three post op (late sry)

yesterday straight up sucked

i slept horribly the night prior, my nerve blocks wore off leaving me with pain and sensitivity everywhere, the whole day was something of a blur

super grateful that my nurse stopped by to change my dressings which are way more comfortable now and a friend stopped by to check on me and make me lunch and keep my company since my mom went back home in the morning and everyone else in my house had to work

had an edible instead of oxy to get thru the night which was much better

i think my drain sites are gonna bruise but my mastectomy sutures and graft bolsters all look good with no visible inflammation or bruising

drain output has been less and less in volume and less opaque and more pink and orangey with more clots (horrid. but normal and good lol)

had help taking my weekly t shot last night and it hurt so badly. probably because i’m living in nerve hell sensory overload rn and i was unlucky and struck a blood vessel

here’s my living room setup from yesterday. the rolling cart + side table combo has been so essential. percy took his role as lap warmer very seriously

u know the drill. chest image below the cut

peep the much improved and more stable drain port dressings. you can’t see it well but there is a much larger clear adhesive like second skin holding the gauze and drains in place, meaning the drains themselves and the sutures holding them in place are tugging WAY less. i still feel a deep ache and discomfort and sometimes sharp pain from the drains both inside and the ports but the improvement is night n day

shoutout to my nurse for fixing me up, she’s an angel

the lanyard is just for when i’m bathing which i did right after i took this pic. otherwise, i safety pin the drain bulbs to my shirt. any purple or orange you see on my skin is marker and betadine that hasn’t come off yet with scrubbing. the glue over my sutures is collecting just a little bit of lint from my shirt and just barely beginning to flake off, so it looks slightly more raggedy

as always, Qs are totally welcome. love u guys and hope ur well

[daryascurse]

𝔗𝔥𝔬𝔲 𝔖𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔱 𝔑𝔬𝔱 𝔐𝔲𝔯𝔡𝔢𝔯

Commandment Part VI: Megumi Fushiguro x Reader [nsfw][5k wc][mdni]

POV: second person, AFAB reader, nongendered pronouns

tags: aged-up!Megumi, feral Megumi, jealously, public sexual activities, over-the-clothes fondling, fantasizing, oral, fingering, biting, spanking, choking, dirty talk, doggy style, vaginal seχ

Megumi slams the door shut, shaking the residence even louder than the restaurant. As soon as you step into the hallway, he cups your face in broad hands, leaning you against the wall, and kisses you none too gently now. His lips are fervent on yours, fingers strong at the back of your neck and holding you tightly to his mouth, tongue against yours hotter than the last of ice water at your cheeks.

“You’re jealous, you’re still jealous,” you say in a gasp when Megumi's next kiss, so eager with fingers twitching at the back of your head, misses and his lips open on your chin. You take a staggering step to the side, and he follows you, sliding further down the hallway.

“Of course,” Megumi says, and there’s a snarl in his voice, the beast rippling just under the surface. You push your hips forward, back flat against the wall and knee between his.

“Do you really think I was flirting with him?”

“That doesn’t matter. It’s that he was flirting with you. And if he made a move… I swear I would have killed him.”

keep reading below the jump or on ao3 ||| set the mood with Megumi's spotify playlist

I have a very strict adult-only interaction policy. Ageless, blank, and clearly minor-run blogs that interact will be blocked. If you have questions about what that means, please read the byf in my pinned post.

The water is cold at the back of your throat, as cold as Megumi Fushiguro’s frosty glare radiating across the table. It doesn’t normally unsettle you; it normally isn’t even worth commenting, on how that impassive cobalt gaze cuts straight through you. You shift your feet together on the hardwood restaurant floor. But normally, his thoughtful glower simply has – nothing to do with you.

But today, his knuckles are tense and teeth are bared as he speaks through tight lips, and his eyes turn to you.

“Letting him flirt with you like that is embarrassing,” Megumi says, and you twist your lips before speaking.

“How am I letting him flirt? I’m just being nice.”

“I don’t like the way he’s looking at you,” Megumi says, not for the first time. His glare moves to the true source of this tempestuous outburst somewhere behind you.

“The waiter’s just being nice also,” you say, keeping your voice low. “You know, hospitable. Part of his job.”

Megumi's nostrils flare as he presses his lips together. “Well, he clearly thinks you’re cute. What do you think?”

You take advantage of the glass still in your hand to take another sip, to brace yourself. And just at that moment, footsteps approach your booth and the waiter – and, look, if asked (anywhere out of earshot of Megumi), you’d have to admit he is handsome – places his hand on the back of your seat to lean over, water pitcher in hand.

“Would you like a refill?” he asks. The arm holding the water flexes in front of your face, and Megumi’s jaw pulses in the framed space of the waiter’s dress shirt subtly separating the two of you.

Handsome, but so corny. “Yes, please,” you say politely.

He pours with a too-white smile, gaze never leaving your face, and only turns his hand to refill Megumi’s as well as he continues speaking to you. “Please, let me know if you need anything else. Your dinner should be right out.”

“Thank you,” Megumi says coldly before you can. The waiter leaves.

Megumi watches him go with narrowed eyes, and it strikes you that there’s something familiar about the way he’s sitting. He’s not outright flexing. He’s not moving with the ostentatious peacocking display the waiter used with every interaction, from ushering you to the table to each beaming smile. But the strength is present in his muscles, in the tightening of his neck, of the shifting of tendons over knuckles.

Oh, like a guard dog, he sits possessive.

And then he stands, hands clenched against the table as if it were clay he could rip apart.

“Scoot over.”

He doesn’t give you much time to move across the smooth vinyl bench before taking a seat, his hip hard against yours.

“I’m going.”

He can’t see the kitchen either from this side, and after a moment to let the last of the irritation out of you, you sigh and lean your head on his shoulder. Sitting on the same side of a booth is such a painfully couple thing to do. But it’s cute, and the warmth that begins to settle through you from the touch of Megumi’s body heat is comfortable. And because he can’t see the waiter now, he should be calmer, controlled. It’s amazing to recognize it, amazing to see Megumi a truly mature adult practicing restraint.

Right?

Megumi sighs in turn, his body rising and falling below your cheek. Your head tilts with it as his arm moves, down against yours, and you reach forward for more water. His hand rests on your leg, elbow pressing into your rib as he moves closer still.

“Stop, stop,” you choke out over your sip in a giggle when Megumi squeezes. You’re still coughing when you almost slam the cup back to the table and he squeezes again higher. His touch is warm even through your pants fabric, and the tease against your reflex jerks your knees.

“What?” Megumi says, low, and he leans his other elbow on the table, casually creating a box of your bodies.

“We’re in public,” you say, clearing your throat.

“That’s the point.”

You reach with a hand, damp still from the cup’s condensation, down to his own, as his curving grip comes to sensitive inner thigh. Megumi deftly escapes your fingers, turning his palm up to grab your hand.

“People will see – ”

“I want him to see,” Megumi says, his grip guiding your hand higher between your thighs. “That’s the point.”

When he pushes, it’s hard, rocking your hand along the seam of your pants. He pushes again and your hips roll forward despite yourself. And – oh, fuck – it hits just at the right part, with just enough pressure to make you close your legs and shift forward again. Megumi’s fingers move against yours in a dance of pressure stronger than the constraint of your thighs. Every muscle clenches in response.

Keeping your knees together is a strain, everything rippling hot and tight up through your cunt at Megumi’s touch against you. The ache is present when you relax, when you exhale shakily and let your legs fall apart, but Megumi’s fingers slip through your puppeteered hand to push at you himself. The heat of his touch, so teasing, so dense through your pants, forces your thighs to tense up again, anxiously pushing together for friction.

Have his fingers always been so strong? Has his touch always been so hot, so shocking? You find yourself wishing Megumi would just claw through your pants and rip the fabric aside, to fuck his fingers right into you, roll his thumb against your clit and smear your arousal against your skin, to have his hands hold your hips down instead of the cold chrome of the table’s underside.

“Stop,” you gasp out again, weaker.

“Why?” Megumi’s breath is hot in your ear, hair tickling your cheek as you turn your face into his shoulder and back, writhing in the booth and practically humping his hand now.

“It’s not enough.”

Footsteps approach, barely perceptible over his chuckling breathy response.

“I am so sorry for the delay once more, your food will – ”

“We’ll just take it to go,” Megumi says crudely. His hand curves between your legs, thumb coming up against the top of your thigh to stroke lightly as the side of his fingers keep pushing. It’s hard enough that your body begins to ache as the desire starts burning even more.

Go, go, go, go.

“Oh. Of course.” The waiter hesitates, and in your hazy periphery you can see him bend down, try to break through the cage of Megumi’s protective lean over the table. “Um, are you feeling – ”

“Fine, we’re fine,” Megumi interrupts him again. “We’ll take the food to go.”

Another pause. “Right away.”

As the footsteps recede, Megumi’s thumb strokes gently, and he turns his hand down to squeeze your thigh once more. It’s disappointing when that’s all he does before withdrawing. The jostle of his arm forces you sitting upright again. Megumi places both hands politely on the edge of the table, drumming with totally relaxed fingers.

You, on the other hand, find yourself still shifting your knees together, the throbbing of his touch quickly subsiding with nothing you can do yourself under the table to bring it back. “Really?” you ask, your voice close to cracking.

“You asked me to stop,” Megumi says. He’s so satisfied you can hear the smile in his voice.

“You know what I meant,” you say.

“Mmmm. Yes, you were worried someone would see.”

“Someone did see.”

“Exactly.”

You push your lips together and blow out the air exasperatingly just as the waiter returns again, holding two white paper doggie bags crisply folded around your food.

“We apologize for the wait,” he says, and Megumi reaches with one hand to take them both.

“That’s fine. Let’s go.”

Standing is hard, your pants feeling heavy against your weak knees. Megumi should be happy, you can’t even look at the waiter who follows your quick steps with as much eagerness as he has all night, only faltering when Megumi reaches back with his empty hand to take yours. The emptiness in your body is apparent, your skin buzzing as the fabric shifts against your legs with each frantic step out the door into the night.

Megumi squeezes your hand as the waiter shouts out, “Thank you, come again!” and lets the door slam so loud the windows rattle.

“That was so rude!” you gasp.

“I know,” Megumi says, and slows the pace to squeeze your hand again. You look at him, and his teeth are bared now in a smile. “It was very mean of me to tease you. Sorry.”

You try to scowl at him, but the blood is still rushing through you too hard to be really embarrassed or angry. Megumi pulls you close to him, arms brushing together, and kisses you right on the street.

Going home, back to his home, is a speed-walk with his hand still tight against yours, and a few more kisses interrupting giggling words under lanterns and before the entrance of alleys. Megumi kisses you quickly, with teeth scraping your bottom lip. As if making sure more than the one waiter, that everyone in town knows his claimed territory. But below the brightness the heat still rolls in both of your bodies, something you feel at your hips and in the way his grip gets harder the closer you come to his doorstep. When he unlocks the door, the doggie bags are thrown to the foyer floor. Shoes are kicked off.

Megumi slams the door shut, shaking the residence even louder than the restaurant. As soon as you step into the hallway, he cups your face in broad hands, leaning you against the wall, and kisses you none too gently now. His lips are fervent on yours, fingers strong at the back of your neck and holding you tightly to his mouth, tongue against yours hotter than the last of ice water at your cheeks.

“You’re jealous, you’re still jealous,” you say in a gasp when Megumi's next kiss, so eager with fingers twitching at the back of your head, misses and his lips open on your chin. You take a staggering step to the side, and he follows you, sliding further down the hallway.

“Of course,” Megumi says, and there’s a snarl in his voice, the beast rippling just under the surface. You push your hips forward, back flat against the wall and knee between his.

“Do you really think I was flirting with him?”

“That doesn’t matter. It’s that he was flirting with you. And if he made a move… I swear I would have killed him.”

Megumi releases you. You sigh, rolling your hips again to lean for his body, and he slams his hands hard into the wall on either side of your head. It shocks you enough to shiver and eyes widen, coughing out a gasp.

“And you seem to find it funny!”

“No, no, not funny,” you say. You reach forward with open palms, splaying your fingers pleadingly across his chest. His heart hammers. “But – Megumi – don’t you get it, that it doesn’t matter to me who flirts with me or not? I only want you.”

Your hands slide down, his pulse beating below his skin, down his chest, down his stomach, and finding the hard bulge clear in his pants. You can feel the heat of his exhales as his arms on either side of your head begin to weaken, just as you brush over his crotch and palm at him with a gentler touch than his had been on you.

And you’re kinder, soothing his aching fire instead of dragging the teasing on. Stroking again, feeling the perfect curve of his cock rise to prominent outline, you move for the fastening. Megumi’s hands fall with a slight moan as you tug his pants down and come to your knees.

Megumi’s already hard, the rage and adrenaline and boiling jealously making him hot and thick to the touch. You wrap your fingers around him softly, and he twitches in your palm as you stroke from the tip down to dark coils of hair, a gentle waving motion. He moans almost like a growl, unsuppressed, and even in the dark of the foyer you tilt your head to look up at his flushed face.

“Only you,” you say again, softly, and your hand circles up once more. You rub, feeling a sheen of precum already bead against your fingertip. Megumi closes his eyes.

Your own face is beginning to burn, the dim arousal stirring as you shift on your ankles and feel that rub of fiction again. You flex your fingers around his cock involuntarily, the pulse fluttering through you.

Megumi’s hips tilt forward, and you open your mouth to spread your tongue around him. The licks are fat and lazy, slow as you work your tongue over your teeth in short motions. Your lips close briefly, saliva already sliding. The next sound is a slurp from your own mouth crashing into Megumi’s groans coming again from above.

You move around him, tongue rubbing his cock as you go low and then higher to the tip once more. Megumi growls your name, and his hand comes hard to the top of your head when you lick the underside. His grip slides down, another cupping caress at the back of your neck when your tongue withdraws to let your lips close in a pressing kiss.

Megumi’s thumb strokes your neck harder than back at the table, coming to your jaw and forcing a whimper through you at the strength of him. It comes through you wet and lewd, and you break away for a gasping breath. You close your lips again to suck, trapping that air in your chest, and your tongue slides forward in a dip.

Gasping and slobbering and you haven’t even forced him all the way back your throat yet.

“Fuck!”

Megumi’s body rocks up, his hand cradling you into his hips as you go lower, faster, and you choke.

The air in your lungs burns the further you press, saliva at the corners of your lips and congestion growing at your nose. Your tongue, heavy now at the bottom of your mouth, presses lightly up against his cock as you suck your way down. Megumi makes it easier – or, maybe worse – by pushing your head further again.

You need to breathe now, but he pulls you down. Your nose presses against him, jaw aching, as he holds you and fills your airway with his cock. Digging your nails into his bare thighs only elicits a wild groan in response. Megumi’s cock is thick and pulsing, and your weakly curling tongue finds a hard vein along the underside. You strain to stroke it. Megumi’s fingers flex and press at the back of your neck, as your face grows hot.

It’s unbearable now. You dig nails into Megumi’s legs again, and with one last tense of his hands, he finally lets go. You gag, throat convulsing as you lean on your heels to lean against the wall again with panting-open mouth breaths and drool stringing down your chin.

“Is that what I get for teasing you before?” Megumi pants.

“No,” you say, wiping your mouth with the back of your hands and grinning up him from the floor. “It’s what you get for being a jealous, half-homicidal ass.”

Megumi’s down with you before you realize it, the fire roaring in his eyes exuberant, yearning delight. You reach for his face and he kisses your smirking mouth, a growl slipping through his lips as he slides you from the wall and to your back to rest over you. He pushes at the floor next to your shoulder, elbow bending when he breaks the kiss to reach with his other hand down to your waistband. As if he knew your foolish restaurant desire, he almost rips the pants from you in that feral haste. You arch your back over the floor and groan as his hand flattens against your bare thigh, his body swaying over your twisting form as you kick outstretched legs to help him peel the pants from you.

The hunger building in you too, you wrestle with your shirt, your bra, as Megumi strips you naked on the floor. His hands leave your body with legs spread around him as he sits up to pull his shirt off. In the moonlight cascading from the windows when your eyes focus up through the darkness, his hair spikes wild across his shoulder, jaw dropped and bare chest rising and falling with the force of his breaths.

“Touch me.” Your voice cuts harsh and desperate in the night.

The hard floor is cold at the small of your back as Megumi roughly grips the back of your thighs, just as cool as the rush of air down at your flushed skin. He pushes, rolling your hips and forcing your legs apart. You kick at the wall with one foot as he spreads you further to make space for his body.

Maybe it was all the previous ministration against rough fabric instead of bare sensitive skin, but you can feel how swollen you already are. You twist on the floor as Megumi brings his mouth down, scraping his teeth along your skin and biting your thigh somewhere that feels miles long. You moan, turning your knee in an effort to bring yourself together, hips bucking up for that friction. With breath hot on you, Megumi’s fingers pull together at the back of your thigh and pinch you. You gasp as it jerks your legs apart again.

Megumi’s mouth comes first, tongue immediately, impatiently tasting you and opening your folds. It’s so easy, with how slick you already are, and your knee jerks. You kick the wall again. He makes a harsh breath, something close to a laugh, sending that hot air from his mouth directly to your spread cunt. Even more teasing? You reach down, about to rub yourself frantically, but flex your hands and push Megumi’s hair back from his sweaty forehead instead, giving him a chance.

“More.”

He lets go of your leg closest to the wall. Your muscles suddenly struggle, pressed on the wallpaper to keep your angle high. Megumi’s tongue spins lazily through your folds, and pulls away to replace with his free fingers.

You moan his name, breaking at the third syllable. His thick fingers slide down through you to stroke at your entrance. You gasp in anticipation, but Megumi doesn’t push inside. He turns his hand, thumbnail scraping your inner thigh as he comes back up to give attention there, right where you wanted it. His fingers coax, stroking against your folds until he finds your clit, and he pushes so hard it almost feels like another pinch. It almost hurts, and you jerk your hips up helplessly, slamming back down to the hard floor when it proves fruitless. He just comes back to do it again, moving his lips back down with a groan that hums through you.

“Oh, oh!”

But for his wild touch, Megumi remains receptive, well-trained, moving to find patterns that elicit your loudest moans. He repeats motions when you whisper, “yes, ‘Gumi, fuck, fuck yes,” and twine your fingers urgently through his hair. So simple, so precisely exactly what you need, tilting your hips to the ceiling as your very skin grows hot. You grasp his hair in a fistful, coarse at your palms. His lips move faster, his tongue pushing saliva and your own arousal through you in a slick mess. He comes back to your clit to suck, and your eyes waver, half-crossing at nothing.

You’ve been babbling, moaning, flexing your feet and rocking your hips urgently into his face, and the pressure hard and heavy behind your stomach is beginning to make you tremble. You’re sweating, uncomfortably hot. Every sensation starts to heighten– every lap of his tongue, every shifting of pressure of his touch, every beat of your heart in your throat and ears.

Megumi pulls his fingers out of your body and rocks back on his knees, one hand drawing himself up over you again. He cups your cunt roughly with the other, pushing at you with thoughtless, rough motions as hard as the restaurant. You clench your thighs around him, clumsily humping his hand to keep it, keep that concentration, that friction that burns down to the bone. You part your lips, and “Me-gu-mi” comes cracking from you again.

He hunches, hair slipping back across his shoulders as he leans down and kisses you again, warm, open-lipped and intoxicating. Megumi smells like sweat, like sex, and he tastes salty, sweet, remnants of you a mouth-watering, heady flavor. When he pushes once more and pulls away, he wipes your slick on the top of your thigh, leaving you once more pulsing around nothing.

“Fuck me, come on, come on,” you say, whining and kissing down his neck, sitting up against him. Your back aches, and head spins, and you bring your hands back to his chest, spreading fingers across him in a pleading grab.

“Then turn around,” he whispers, tilting his head over yours.

It aches to pull yourself away, legs just as heavy as they had felt on the walk home, and the floor is just as harsh under your palms and knees as it had treated your back. You rock back, extending your arms in a long stretch and resting on your heels. Megumi's hands are on your waist, moving with you as he pants in your ear, trying to place his knees around yours. Restlessly, you lean forward on hands and knees again.

He slaps your ass.

“Keep that up and I’ll spank you sore,” Megumi says with a growl.

You moan, an invitation in itself as you rock back just slightly. “Sorry,” you breathe without sincerity. He knows it, and when he spanks you again, it stings.

“Oh, oh.”

He breathes your name when his hands grip your hips and the heels of his palms push your ass to bring himself higher, his hard cock sliding against your skin, and you want to turn around and kiss him just for that.

“Just - fuck - ”

Megumi lets go with one hand, spanks you again, and the drag of his cock on you finds direction as he positions himself to your entrance. The thick, blunt tip, easily slick with your throbbing arousal, pushes in, and your joints go weak as the heat behind your stomach begins to boil again. Your elbows bend, about to let yourself completely kneel back once more, but Megumi slaps you harder as promised.

“Ouch!”

“What did I - say - ” he pants. There’s only senseless vigor in it, just as the prick of fingernails on your skin digs harder. He pushes in completely, and you almost melt at it again, at every pulsing ridge and vein of his cock thoroughly filling you. You buck your hips, and Megumi growls.

You move with him as he fucks into you, squeezing with your inner muscles and whimpering in loud gasps. He’s pounding hard immediately, giving into the hunger that’s been consuming the both of you for far too long to be decent. His fingers are strong, streaking against your skin as his grip slides, something to discolor and bruise you as dark as his blue eyes tomorrow morning. But it feels so fucking good.

You toss your head back, finding a glimpse of his face in this aching position with back arched, teeth shining in the moonlight and eyes burning on you. He’s so beautiful, so wild, and his fingers bend on your skin.

“Fuck, fuck, look at you,” Megumi pants, and you moan.

He grabs your throat with stroking fingers, forcing your head back to him, spine bowed as his chest comes to your shoulder blades. It aches, the push of his cock lighter at this angle, somehow not reaching so deep but still making you clench your muscles and move your hips back to feel him in you. Your fingertips strain at the floor, and Megumi keeps hissing in your ear.

“I want him to see you like this, I want everyone to see you like this, splayed over my cock as I spread you open - mine - everyone to know, look at you, fuck – ”

You’re barely holding on, air beating out of you when he squeezes your throat, eyes rolling back and unable to find him, just flashes of flexing fingertips and strands of falling hair when he tosses his head and pulls back at your hip. You groan, feeble, grating, half-choked, and gasp when he lets go to place both hands firmly on your hips again and pull you fully back to him.

With that, his cock is driving deep, right to your core, and you cry out. Your hand flat against the ground for balance, you reach down, desperate to rub yourself for impatient release. But Megumi feels it somehow, and at the shift of your back against his sweat-streaked chest, he grabs your wrist and pulls the errant hand to just below your stomach.

“No,” he groans, as his fingers fan against yours to feel the push of his cock just barely swelling under your skin, “I don’t want you cumming like that. I want to be the one, I’m the one, scream my fucking name.”

And you’re so close, coming closer still with those words growled in your ear. You claw at his hand, out of your own desperate lust, and he brings his hips flush against yours and holds you tight with the next stroke in.

“You’re mine,” he says, the possessive wildness a simple crude truth.

He lets go, but you keep your hand there, feeling him in you in every way fucking possible as he thrusts. Despite the snarling bravado, you can feel the urgency in the bruising grip on your hip, in the quickening of his strokes. You tense your thighs and push yourself down, letting him fill you and spread you until you’re barely holding yourself up.

For a flash you can imagine it in the restaurant, so clearly in your mind’s eye, with that same infectious feral urge to have him rip your clothes right off in public – but he’s fucking you with your hands gripping the table for balance instead of this floor; both of your pants shoved down to the ankles as Megumi moves into you with wild haste, forcing the waiter to watch him mark his territory and claim you with his cock right there -

You cry out, hips twisting and convulsing. “I’m so close! Fuck!”

“My name, my name,” Megumi repeats through clenched teeth, saliva flying against the back of your shoulder with the force of his words.

“Megumi!”

He grabs you, reaching forward and knees bending into yours as he urges you flat to the floor with the earnest fervency of his strokes. He’s pulsing, so thick and large in you, and – there – just there, with his words and touch and your own fevered imagination, everything goes static. You slip down and let the orgasm take you. Megumi’s hands are the only anchor you have as the floor slides below you, your heartbeat drumming through your head and you hear yourself barely able to spit out his name - 

“’Gumi, ‘Gumi, I’m – cumming!”

Megumi, with the last of his control shredded to ribbons, cums with a harsh cry of your own name too, something that makes you whimper as the ripple beats through you and your legs shake again. He shoots hot, palms scrambling flat against your skin. His mouth opens again, biting at your shoulder so sharp you yelp, arching your back and bucking into his body.

“Oh…my god,” you whimper, as he moans your name again into your skin and rocks his hips forward, pushing his seed to flood through you. When he pulls out at last, his own peak subsided, it leaks hot to the swollen folds of your cunt. You shiver again, a weak moan, and then the dark is silent, cut only by two cascading sets of lungs struggling to breathe smoothly.

You lie for a moment, Megumi panting above you as he rocks back on his heels, the reverberating thud of his hand slapping against the wall for balance. The floor is no more comfortable now than it has been, but you gather yourself, heart pounding into the floorboards and slick cold on your cunt, your thighs.

“Let’s make it to the bed next time,” you say, muffled in the wood. Megumi hears you, and lets a weak barking laugh through his heaving exhales.

“I just couldn’t wait.”

“Very impatient tonight.”

“You have no idea,” he says, and there’s something half-serious in his tone now. “I didn’t even want to wait for the food to be ready. I just wanted to get you out of there.”

You laugh, a sound just as exhausted as his own. “Well, look, even if that takeaway is delicious, I never want to go back there. Never, not after the way you treated that poor guy.”

Megumi reaches for you, his hand gentle on your sweaty, aching body. “No, I know,” he says with a voice just as soft as his touch. “Because if he gives me reason… I will kill him.”

He gathers you in his arms as you sit up too, leaning against the wall with him. The gesture of possession is kind this time, and he kisses your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, before cupping your face with strong fingers and moving your lips back to his. You let him move you, kissing you back, smiling against his mouth. Yes, you’re his, and he’s yours.

fin.

[nejishadow]

Kenjikoto / Makokenji half-drabbles and ideas I have no energy to do anything with, because I haven't written fanfic in years, that I don't want to sit in the queue for weeks so it's getting posted now

Feel free (please do!) to expand / finish / take inspo from these for this ship, and please tag me / message me / something if you do because I crave content and exploration between these two. Unhinged tags and comments about how I inspired something/anything give me the biggest amount of fuel to keep creating art!!

Do you wanna see me ramble in real time about these weirdos / pos?? Join @bakafurai 's Kenji Enjoyer Club Discord (in their pinned)!

Some get real long so it's all going below a cut!

((These are all ideas and things written as stream of consciousness to just get my ideas out in a discord channel, so don't expect the best dialogue, formatting, or anything else, I haven't finished a full piece of writing and/or fanfic in years, ha))

Seeing these screenshots my first thought - and a tag I immediately added - was 'you heard the man, Yuki, give him a piggyback ride!'

But I kept thinking like. Makoto's strong. He could? He should??

Makoto kneeling down, telling Kenji to get on then, he'll take him home

Kenji chuckle or laugh, assumes he's joking or being silly like usual, sure Yuki, you can totally do that

Makoto getting serious, if you don't pick in the next couple seconds I'm leaving you behind. Kenji panicks at that and gets on without thinking and is surprised when Makoto stands up and carries him no problem (insert "I hope this doesn't awaken anything in me")

too shocked that Makoto can even do this to be embarrassed, maybe asks Makoto why he's doing this, Kenji could've just sucked it up. Answer something like "because I wanted to", Yuki doesn't elaborate much on those things.

Gives Kenji some time to do stuff he usually wouldn't, like study Makoto's hair, hear the music spilling out the headphones etc. I like the idea he just gets so relaxed on the way home he falls asleep but Makoto keeps carrying him

It's totally just a Best Bros privilege thing, could mean nothing more!! Simply don't think about how it made you feel ever again

Bonus of

Kenji talking to Makoto in the classroom, Junpei coming up making some joke about how people saw them, asking if Makoto can do that for him too (laugh, joke, being friend.)

And Makoto boils it down to: no

That makes Kenji real happy, that he's special like that. But he does stuff only for Yuki too so it's normal!!

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"So we've all thought about how pretty Yuki is, right, like the guy catches everyone's eye when he walks in, how couldn't we? Even with his bad fashion sense he just grabs your attention"

Kaz makes the most sense to respond, they are friends just "… I have never thought that. Are you sure you're not goin' through something?"

slaps a pic of Yosuke and Kenji These bad boys can fit so much comphet and denial in 'em!

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Another idea I remembered, less fleshed but a strong visual I wanted to draw

Kenji waiting at track practice for Makoto to be done. Kenji had never seen him run so decided to wait outside for once

Of course he's impressed. Makoto seems to take his time walking everywhere, at least when they go places, but man, he can run!

Makoto flopping next to him when he's done, after everyone else disperses, small talk about how hes surprised Kenji waited out here, doesn't seem interested in sports. Kenji some speech about how he wanted to see how badly Yuki beat everyone else

it's pretty hot, and Makoto's tired, flops over into Kenji's lap. 'Let me nap here a few minutes and we can go, you're cooler than the bench'

Kenji tenses a bit, but breathes, Yuki just wants to rest, chill!… but he can't help but eventually card his hand through Makoto's bangs, pushing them up and outta the way.

Makoto opens his eyes and just looks at him, not judgemental or questioning, just observing. But oh no - Kenji had never stared at both his eyes so close oh this is a problem

quickly he removes his hand, apologizes, some comment about how Yuki just looked sweaty and he was trying to move the hair off

Makoto closes his eyes again… 'I don't mind. I am in your space, I guess…'

after a bit, Kenji relaxes and starts running his hands through the hair again, silky and feathery. He can think about how this makes him feel LATER (never), for now he just wants to enjoy this thing he likely won't get again

Tho Makoto better hope Yuko doesn't see this or she's gonna tease him about his boyfriend / biggest fan until the end of time

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Pics I drew made me think of kenjikoto train ride(s):

Makoto tired, either tucks into Kenji's shoulder or leans on his head for a quick nap

Kenji doesn't mind, knows Makoto doesn't sleep the best, even if he doesn't know why

Anytime the train jostles or moves he instinctually holds Makoto's head so it doesn't shake or fall, wants him to be comfortable

it's not until they reach the destination and Makoto separates from him that Kenji thinks… oh, that was actually nice. I wish the ride could've been just a little bit longer

a bonus if Makoto senses his change in mood and gives him a shoulder bump, trying to cheer him up. Maybe offering to hang out awhile longer at the dorm or something

Aka there is no way Kenji isn't touch starved, as are all the protags and a third of the cast pft

About Makoto being a frequent napper: Asks Kenji to eat on the roof with him almost exclusively so he can take a nap, because he's just a lil bit silly like that. Gives Kenji time to just talk to him, ramble, hard to do that when you're out eating food.

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Girl Advice made me think of a rough conversation

"Everyone assumes you're cold, man. No wonder you dont have a girlfriend! Even if they talked to you, a few words outta your mouth and they'd turn tail and leave."

"Why's it so important to have a girlfriend, anyway?" Eats some of his lunch bread

"You're such a good guy, you deserve one, man!" A shoulder tap. "If they knew the real you, they'd be falling over themselves to get your attention, I know it."

Makoto a head tilt or a look, confused by the use of 'deserve'. Kenji deciphers it

"… well a girlfriend makes guys happy, right? I want to see you happy all the time!" Putting both his hands on Makoto's shoulders and shaking him a smidge. "Doesnt it sound fun? Double dates, man, we can hang out all the time!"

Makoto blinks in a thoughtful way, meeting Kenji's eyes. "But I'm already happy, hanging out with you like this. Isn't that enough? We do things together all the time… why do we need anyone else?"

Kenji blinks a bit in surprise. Yeah, he'd never thought of that. He's also really happy around Yuki… is that… ok? For two guys to always hang out alone? Yuki never seems to think it's odd…

Makoto slowly grabs Kenji's hands off of his shoulder, Kenji swears he feels Yuki squeeze them for just a second before a wrapped sandwich is pushed into them.

"Eat, almost time for class. You can't live off ramen forever."

Kenji just nods, unwrapping it and adjusting himself before taking a bite. If Makoto feels just a bit more of their sides touching, he doesn't comment on it

[twodragons-blooper-reel]

Let's roll the bloopers!

POST LIMIT: I LIVE

Hi there! It's @twodragonsinatrenchcoat I have several Pokemon IRL blogs in the rotumblr sphere and I wanted to make a sort of hub for them! Not just for organization and a spot to hold onto ask games I enjoy- but for meme and AU purposes as well!

I'll post ooc updates as well as jokes I have while writing here from time to time as well :3

I am also happy to do blog promos, I'm bad at looking for new blogs but send me an ask with the blog name or whatever and I'll reblog your pinned

Feel free to ask any and all questions pertaining to the blogs that are listed below!

Pokemon Irl blogs are listed under the cut, all are currently inactive

Active blogs are one I'm posting on actively, Light Activity Blogs are ones I'll reblog to occasionally and Inactive Blogs are blogs I have no intention of returning to in the near future.

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Active Blogs:

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Light activity Blogs:

@celadon-arcade-champ <- new blog. Character works at the Celadon game Corner, completely unaware that it's a front for Team Rocket :]

@disparate-traveller <- A faller blog about my character Diamond who yeeted themselves into Rotomblr to hang out with their bestie

@dersite-agent-jack <- I love Jack(Bec) Noir. So have a homestuck faller blog :]

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Inactive Blogs:

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If I'm answering a question about a specific blog I'll put it in the tags as "blog talk: [Blog name]"

I'm open to questions directed at characters, directed at myself, au talking- Just about anything honestly! This is just a fun sort-of hub for my pokemon blogs.

uhhh love y'all bye for now! <3

@rotumbeast <- The spirit of Rotomblr. Might be responsible for chaos

@piplup-at-naranja <- An in character liveblog of my playthrough of Pokemon Scarlet :]

@magical-girl-evoli <- An eevee magical girl! Because I'm not immune to brain rot

@hello-am-zacian <- A real life dog got Fallered and transformed into legendary pokemon Zacian. She's having a great time

@synthetic-radiance <- Cursed Chosen named Orion, Type:Null hybrid.

@psychic-type-appreciator <- Seraphina's sister Agni. She's less of a wet cat

@ghost-type-appreciator <- A Ceruledge hybrid blog :] her name is Seraphina! She's a wet cat

@clockwork-soul-heart <- Princess Steele! She's been trapped in a clockwork kingdom by a haunted doll for the last seven years of her life.

@drifting-rocket <- Kidnapped Aegis a couple times. His name is Drifter, he's a Team Rocket Executive. He's got so many issues.

@oreburghminingmuseum <- A blog about Aegis's caretakers and the museum they work for! Mostly an excuse for a place where I can post non-shieldon fossil pokemon art-

@fields-of-gracidea <- Vio! Branded chosen of Shaymin, Sawsbuck Hybrid, tasked with taking care of the younger brandeds

@sturdy-and-soundproof <- What you probably know me from! Aegis! Shieldon boy! I'm not sure how best to explain him besides he's cute. Has a whole slew of blogs related to him which are up next :)

@mareeplings <- My first pkmn Irl blog :D I dream of returning to it someday but I can't find the inspiration.

@snarling-maschiff <- a blog with a normal person running it as opposed to all my other blogs (whoops) They like dog pokemon!

@wayward-silver <- One of 13* Silver blogs, he's a mew taking the form of his past life. Was stuck underground as a ditto for like 20 years though.

@devilisinthedeinos <- A "Sleeby" named Eris who turned into a deino after getting top surgery. There's something else behind the scenes there...

@distortion-escapee <- A blog for my personal take on giratina, related to Dakota's blog.

@dakota-and-paris <- About a girl who has had way too much on her plate for thirteen years and will continue to have too much on her plate until I say so.

*there's so many silver blogs on this website i'm not gonna keep this number updated but that's how many there was when I made the blog