#And now has limited mobility in her arms and legs

[hope-and-a-dream]

This is Ari (Arilles) my pantoran Jedi oc

[mintsbubbletea]

𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨 - 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐃𝐚𝐝

Word Count: 2,490

Contains: She/Her Pronouns, cursing, name calling, sadist, masochist, spiting, fingering, hair pulling, tears, orgasm denial, kissing, degradation, choking, exhibitionist (?), cum, praising, oblivious mother , p-in-v, unprotective sex Don't know if missed anything.

Proof Read and Edited

A/n: Reader is over 18!!! Bakugo is also aged up. I haven't written smut in a while so please bare with me.

At approximately midnight, the front door opening startled you from your bed, where you had been engrossed in using your mobile phone. Your stepfather, Bakugo, had returned home after a long day working as a hero, leaving you to your own devices in the house while your mother was away on a business trip. As you made your way downstairs, you noticed Bakugo sprawled out on the couch, his legs apart, clutching a beer in one hand and taking continuous sips from it. Exhausted from his day at work, his focus was fixed on the television, his tired eyes struggling to stay open. He groaned and reclined against the couch, taking another bitter sip from his beer.

As you descended the staircase intending to annoy him, you were taken aback to find him already indulging in his usual nightly ritual of drinking. "Beer? Really?" you exclaimed, unable to hide your disdain as you reached the bottom step. Bakugo's head snapped towards you upon hearing your voice, clearly startled by your presence. He grumbled, placing the beer on the coffee table and directing his focus towards me. "What on earth are you still doing awake, you little brat? Shouldn't you be fast asleep by now?" he inquired, his tone tinged with annoyance.

"Why the fuck do you care?" you snapped, storming off towards the kitchen. You could feel his gaze burning into your back. "What fuck did you just say" he demanded, placing his drink down forcefully. "You heard me, old man. Has your hearing gone to shit?" you hissed back. He followed you into the kitchen, his anger hot on your heels, and slammed his hand down on the counter. "Y/n, I won't tolerate this attitude," he said, attempting to be the mature one and reason with you, but you couldn't care less.

Ever since you and your mom moved in with Bakugo, you've had a major problem with his behavior. He constantly drinks beer, lounges on the couch, and never lifts a finger to help. You're always the one cleaning and cooking when your mom isn't around. And when she is, she takes over and cleans the entire house. She doesn't mind that Bakugo doesn't contribute because, according to her, he's the "man of the house" and deserves to relax after a hard day's work. It's infuriating because your mom works just as hard. So, in retaliation, you've been treating him with utter disrespect for months, all while pretending to be innocent in front of your mom.

Yeah, he may take care of you and occasionally treat you to meals, but that doesn't make up for the fact that you have to clean up after his friends when they come over and leave a mess of beer cans everywhere. You've reached your limit and want to put an end to it.

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings old man?" you taunted, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. Bakugo's irritation grew evident as you continued to provoke him. He straightened his posture, crossing his arms defiantly. "Don't think you can outsmart me, kid. I may be your stepfather, but I still have the responsibility to discipline you," he grumbled, his voice filled with a rough edge. Approaching you, he loomed over your smaller frame. "Hand over your phone and go to your room now."

With a defiant smirk, you mirrored his stance and crossed your arms. "You can't force me, you know. Just because you're screwing my mom doesn't automatically make you my dad," you teased, tilting your head playfully.

You defiantly smirked at him, causing his frustration to escalate. He took a step towards you, his imposing figure casting a shadow over you. "So, that's how it's gonna be, huh? You think you can treat me like shit?" he growled, his voice dripping with intensity. He reached out and firmly grasped your arm, not too forcefully but enough to make his point. "Listen up, you imbecile. You're not going to come out on top in this situation. Say whatever you want, but it'll come back to haunt you," he warned, his grip tightening slightly as a subtle threat.

You rolled your eyes, unimpressed by his display. "Oh, cry me a river," you scoffed. "What exactly do you think you can do?" Bakugo's eyes narrowed, annoyance flickering across his face. He tightened his hold on your arm, asserting his physical dominance. "Don't push me, you fool," he muttered, his voice low and menacing.

"Let go of me!" you snapped, attempting to break free from his grasp. "Ouch!" He leaned in closer, his face mere inches away from yours. "Am I too much for a weakling like you? Fine. But remember, I always come out on top," he whispered, his breath grazing your ear.

You stood frozen, feeling his breath on your skin. "Don't call me weak, you old hag," you retorted, refusing to back down.

Bakugo's eyes narrow even further, a spark of anger flashing in them as he hears your defiant words. He releases your arm, his hand balling into a fist at his side. "You want to challenge me, huh? Fine, brat. Get ready to learn your place," he growls. Without warning, he grabs you by the waist, forcefully pinning you against the wall. Your eyes widen as his face comes dangerously close to yours. "What do you think you're doing, idiot?" You snap. Bakugo's grip tightens on your waist, his knee pressing against your core. Unfortunately, you're only wearing an oversized shirt and panties, causing your shirt to ride up. "I'm doing what needs to be done, brat," he replies, his voice low and commanding. He leans in closer, his breath grazing your skin. "You want to challenge me? Do you want to play this game? Well, be careful what you wish for," he murmurs in a husky tone. His hand trails up your side, his touch firm and possessive. "I'll teach you how to respect your elders," he adds, his voice filled with a mix of dominance and desire.

"Don't touch me," you grit through your teeth before spitting in his face. His eyes widen in surprise as the spit lands on his cheek. His grip on your waist tightens even further, his knee pressing higher against your clothed area. He wipes the spit off his face with the back of his hand, his jaw clenched tightly. "You insolent brat," he snarls, his voice dripping with venom. In a swift, sudden motion, he grabs a handful of your hair, his grip painfully tight. "You think you can disrespect me like that? Think again," he growls, his tone filled with anger and dominance. You yelp in pain as you try to pry his hands off of you. "You're hurting me, you asshole!" you yell, tears welling up in your eyes.

Bakugo's grip on your hair tightens even more, his anger escalating as he hears your words. His piercing gaze locks onto yours, his voice a low rumble filled with a mix of frustration and dominance. "Good. Perhaps a little discomfort will serve as a reminder of your place," he declares, his words tinged with a hint of sadistic pleasure. "Remember, I'm the one who takes care of you. I'm the one who watches out for you. And I won't tolerate any disrespect," he asserts, his voice resonating with commanding authority. "Kiss my ass," you retorted, a tear streaming down your face from the forceful grip on your hair.

"Naughty girls like you need to be taught a lesson," he grumbles. Without warning, he pulls your panties to the side and forcefully inserts two fingers inside your aching pussy. "What the fuck!" you exclaim, pushing against his shoulders and squirming under his touch. He remains silent, holding you down as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you faster and faster, causing you to grow wet with desire. "Stop it, you asshole," you snap before he yanks your hair, tilting your head to the side and planting rough kisses on your exposed neck. "If you want me to stop, why are you grinding your hips against my fingers?" he smirks against your skin. You hadn't even realized that your hips were moving; you were so starved for touch that you would do anything for any form of contact.

"That doesn't mean I like it" you retorted, your voice laced with defiance as the pleasure surged through your body. Desperate to resist his advances, you clutched onto his shoulder, determined to deny him the satisfaction he sought. But deep down, you craved the sensation that awaited when he hit that sweet spot. Your breath hitched as your hips instinctively moved in sync with his skilled fingers. "Please, Bakugo, we can't," you pleaded, knowing it was wrong but unable to resist the intoxicating pleasure. "Do you want me to stop?" he growled in your ear, his fingers teasingly slow, causing you to moan in response. "Damn it," you gasped. "Are you sure you want me to stop?" he questioned, his voice dripping with dominance. "Your body tells a different story. Look at how helpless you are under my touch," he declared, his veiny hands gripping your neck, choking you, pinning you against the wall. Trembling, you whimpered, your desire for his touch finally overpowering your resistance.

"Please, don't stop. Keep going," you managed to utter. Bakugo smirked, crashing his lips onto yours, the eagerness consuming you as he fingered you with fervor, the wet sounds mingling with your moans. "That's what I thought, you slut," he murmured against your lips, sending shivers down your spine. Your walls clenched around his thick fingers, signaling your impending climax. Just as you were about to surrender to ecstasy, he abruptly withdrew his fingers. "N-no! Why would you do that?" you whined, your hips still rocking, craving the sensation of fullness. "Only good girls get to come, and you haven't been behaving, have you?" he taunted, wearing a smug smirk.

"I'm sorry! I promise to behave, just please let me cum," you pleaded, clutching onto his shirt. "Please," you pouted softly. "I'll be good," you said, tears welling up in your eyes, desperate to reach your climax. Bakugo chuckled and gave you a quick kiss, wiping away your tears. "Fine, but how about you cum on my dick instead?' he smirked. You eagerly nodded in agreement. "Please," you begged. Without hesitation, Bakugo bent you over the kitchen island and swiftly pulled down your drenched panties. As he pulled his pants down, his hard cock sprung out. He smirked as he stroked himself, taking in the sight of your bent-over form. "So desperate for my cock, huh" he chuckled, teasing your entrance with the tip. "I'm not in the mood for teasing, Katsuki. Just fuck me," you whined as you pressed yourself against him. And that's exactly what he did. Once you finished your little rant, he shoved his cock inside you, making you gasp and quickly shut up.

He started moving slowly at first, his hands gripping your hips as he gradually picked up speed. You gripped the counter, crying out with pleasure as his cock hit all the right spots and filled you perfectly. "Katsuki," you moaned as he started slamming into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room along with your moans. "You like that, you slut?" he asked, grabbing your hair and pulling you back against his chest, admiring your face as you enjoyed being pounded. "Answer me," he growled, pulling your hair again. "I-I love it so much," you whimpered as his pace never once slowed. But just as you both heard the front door opening, he slowed down and whispered in your ear, "Stay quiet."

He continued to fuck your pussy behind the counter when your mom walked in. She enters the room, completely unaware of what's happening, and greets both of you with a smile. You try your best to maintain your composure, returning the smile. "Mom," you say, "You're back home early from your trip," leaning on the counter with Katsuki standing behind you. "Oh yeah, the trip got cut short. My boss suddenly got sick," she explains, placing her suitcase down. Gripping the counter tightly, Bakugo hits your sweet spot repeatedly, causing your legs to weaken and a soft whimper to escape your lips. "Oh, that's unfortunate," you respond, earning a tight squeeze from him, silently urging you to control yourself. "Yeah, we had three days left, but things happen," she laughs, removing her blazer. "What are you two doing up? I thought you'd both be sleeping at this hour."

"O-oh, I couldn't sleep. I had too much caffeine before bedtime," you laugh, trying to hide your moan. "I've told her countless times to cut back on caffeine, and now she's wide awake," Bakugo chuckles as he continues to pleasure you. "You need to work on that, Y/n. It's not good for you," your mom advises before heading towards the stairs. "Well, I'm tired. I'm going to bed. Don't stay up too late," she smiles. "Don't worry, we won't," Bakugo assures her, leaving you unable to utter a word as you teeter on the brink of orgasm.

"Goodnight," she murmured before retreating to her room. Bakugo waited until he heard the door close before increasing his pace, his hips snapping against yours, causing your ass to jiggle with each thrust. You couldn't hold back anymore, letting out a moan as tears sprang to your eyes from trying to suppress your pleasure in front of your mother.

"Such a good girl," he growled, praising you. "You behaved so well for me," he chuckled as he relentlessly pounded into you. You whimpered and gripped onto the counter, moaning loudly. 'You can cum, baby. You deserve it," he encouraged, and with his words, your body shook with ecstasy. As Bakugo continued to fuck you, he finally pulled out and came all over your ass. You rested your upper body on the counter, completely drained and your legs about to give out.

He grabbed a napkin and gently cleaned you up, his touch soothing against your sensitive skin. "Want… more?" you managed to utter, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "More?" he asked, a surprised smirk playing on his lips. "You think you can handle it?" You nodded eagerly, your desire evident. "Yes, please. I need you inside me," you whimpered, slowly rising to your feet.

"Fine. But only because you were well-behaved,'" he chuckles before scooping you up and carrying you to the couch. He sets you down on your back and climbs on top of you. He gazes down at your exhausted form as you grind your hips, rubbing your wet pussy against his hard cock. "Fuck," he growls before kissing you deeply, his hands finding their way to your throbbing center. "Don't come crying to me tomorrow about being tired," he teases. You grin against his lips. "I won't. Now just fuck me already."

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Could I request Dadvi after the war, (wishful thinking, he just needed to heal and learn how to walk again after I healed) he has children outside of paradise? He fall in love with someone in the medical field. Please and thank you

think my heart would melt if i ever saw levi playing with his toddler ksjdfksdjf

Needy Little Brat | 2K Follower Event | Post-War Dadvi Drabble

✧ word count ➼ ~800 ✧ notes ➼ post-war, fluff, my headcanon that levi can still walk but with a limp and uses the wheelchair as a mobility aid

You stepped out of the shower, pulling your shirt on over your head, immediately frowning once you heard your husband cursing across the hallway in the living room.

You walked over to see what it was that got Levi grumpy, knowing that it could range from something as simple as his tea leaves being steeped for too long all the way up to something catastrophic like the house getting set on fire.

You sighed as you saw him walking across the room from the dining table over towards the couch. His limp was a bit more noticeable than usual and you could see the small frown line on his forehead that resulted from him trying to ignore the pain that was undoubtedly shooting through his leg.

You remembered how stubborn Levi was when the war first ended. He had accepted the idea that his knee would never fully heal, but struggled with gauging where his limit was in terms of pain tolerance. Luckily, he had you to call him out on his bullshit, noting that if he kept pushing himself, then he was going to end up hurting himself more and end up being even more pissed than he already was. Plus, the fact that you were a combat medic helped with navigating his recovery.

Still, he was stubborn and refused to stay seated even though he was clearly in pain.

"You know, if you need to sit down or use the wheelchair, then quit being stubborn and just use it," you insisted with a sigh, unfolding his wheelchair and wheeling it over.

"Kinda hard to sit still when there's this little shit running around," he grumbled.

You followed his gaze and then understood why he was forcing himself to walk around despite his knee likely flaring up.

While your child had been calmly playing near the couch when you had stepped into the shower, she was now unsteadily wandering around the living room, with no regard for any tripping hazards or the coffee table that she was now tall enough to bump into.

She finally noticed Levi glaring at her, with her face lighting up as she began to run towards the two of you, immediately tripping over her own two feet.

Before you even got a chance to react, Levi had already leapt forward to catch her so that she didn't faceplant into the ground.

While you could clearly tell that he was in pain from the sudden movement, your daughter clearly did not put the pieces together, beginning to babble as she grabbed at Levi's arms.

Sighing again, you bent over and picked her up from the ground, motioning your head towards the wheelchair to indicate to Levi that you had brought it out for him if he needed it.

Now that he no longer had to worry about your child accidentally hurting herself for running around before she could properly keep her balance, he got into the mobility aid, clearly exasperated by the fact that your child was just as stubborn as he was when it came to moving around when she wasn't supposed to.

Still, he couldn't blame her. She was a kid exploring the world, but he'd be damned if he didn't admit to himself that he felt wholly unprepared when it came to having an actual child that wasn't just the 104th goofing off or hanging out around Gabi or Falco that were already able to take care of themselves.

His eyes flashed up towards you, his gaze falling on the toddler in your arms that was now looking more distressed as she reached out for him, trying to wriggle out of your arms.

"Alright, alright, calm down," you scolded, securing your grip on her so that she didn't fall headfirst back down to the ground.

"She's just as clingy as you are," he muttered, the corner of his lip raising into a small smirk as he saw the somewhat bashful look on your face as your cheeks began to heat up.

"Well, she's just as stubborn as you are," you retorted as you plopped her into his lap after he got settled.

She immediately calmed down, giggling as Levi began to poke at her belly after calling her a "needy little brat", which she found absolutely hilarious despite not knowing what he was actually saying.

You watched as she began trying to grab at Levi's hand, which he was drawing back at the last second, before going back in and allowing her to grab at him again, before drawing his hand back again, unable to hide the amused expression steadily forming on his face. Eventually, he gave in, allowing her to firmly grab at his thumb.

"Quick reflexes, this one," he pointed out, giving a nod of approval, which made you snort in disbelief.

"Wonder where she gets that from."

[help-i-need-a-cool-username]

Random meet the batfamily reveal situations i dont see enough of so have some examples/prompts

The JL: Batman is truly terrifying. No one has the guts to lie to his face

The JL: *video calling the batcave*

FEW MINUTES LATER

Spoiler: *walks across the room and is seen as she passes behind Batman*

The JL: wait! Its you!

Batman: Spoiler, why and when did you have contact with the Justice League?

Spolier, no hesitation: i have never met these people in my life

The JL: WHAT? What are you talking about?!? We saw you two days ago

Spoiler: wasn't me. I don't know what to tell you, you must've saw someone else

------------------------------------

Batman: *turns on his camera for the JL zoom call*

THE BATCAVE IS COVERED IN GLITTER

The JL: uh, Batman?

Batman: *steamrolls right into the meeting material so he doesnt have to talk about falling for a prank*

-------------------------------------

THE WATCHTOWER CELLS, WHICH HOLD THE MAJORITY OF THE BATKIDS

Batman: what happened?

The JL: well this group broke into the Watchtower and put Green Arrow and Green Lantern in the infirmary! They refuse to tell us who they work for or how they got past security-

Batman: *trying not to laugh because he is pissed that they broke into the Watchtower and possibly compromised them all but the image of Lantern and Arrow sitting next to each other in matching bandages like cartoon characters is hilarious*

Batman: i can answer one of those questions. This group typically works with me. They are supposed to be stationed in Gotham right now.

The JL: WHAT

Batman: Nightwing, what could not be accomplished at the cave that this many of you needed to come here?

Nightwing: well, uh, you see...

Batman: Robin, why are you all here?

Robin: there was a... incident in Agent A's kitchen. It is no longer usable. We are here seeking asylum from his wrath.

Batman: *facepalms*

The JL: *gasps at the facepalm*

Batman: one of you blew up the microwave again, didn't you?

Robin: i will neither confirm or deny that claim.

-------------------------------------

THE JL STAND SURROUNDED BY DEBRIS. A EXPLOSION GOES OFF IN THE BACKGROUND.

Batman: *dealing out his children's punishment*

The JL: damn he's really giving it to them

Orphan: *hugs Batman's arm and gives him puppy eyes*

Batman: *speech falters but he keeps going*

Nightwing: *comes up behind Orphan and rests his chin on her head, also giving puppy eyes*

Batman: *speech begins to taper off*

Signal: *starts faking a leg injury and claims to be exhausted*

The JL: no, he's not gonna FOLD is he?

Robin: *refuses to stoop so low as to use these tactics but is adorably sulking behind them*

Batman: *folds like a house of cards and the kids get off mostly free AND with hugs*

The JL: *are flabbergasted*

-------------------------------------

JL SCREEN IS COMPROMISED DURING A MEETING AND IS NOW DISPLAYING A VIDEO CALL

The JL: how did you hack our security?! It's the best in the world

Red Robin, clearly exhausted: i built your security you fu-

Batman: Red Robin. What can we do for you.

Red Robin: answer your damn phone when i call you.

The JL whispering: who does this guy think he is?

Red Robin: we're out of coffee. I need you to swing by the store on your way back or just steal some before you leave.

The JL: you interrupted our very important meeting because you want Batman to go grocery shopping for you!

Batman and Red Robin: no coffee is a emergency.

Red Robin: *cracks open a five hour energy*

Batman: please don't-

Red Robin, making direct eye contact: *pours five hour energy into a can of monster*

Red Robin: desperate times call for desperate measures, B

------------------------------------

Nightwing: it's freezing out here.

Nightwing: *pushes Superman aside so he can wrap Batman's cape around him*

The JL: uhh

Batman: i told you to bring a jacket.

Nightwing: jackets limit my mobility. And last time i brought one it got slashed to pieces and i had to buy a new one. I cant do that every time it gets cold!

Batman: *sighs*

The JL: did Batman just sigh in defeat??!!?!!!??

------------------------------------

Oracle, interrupting a meeting: Batman. It's been four hours.

Batman: i am aware. Thank you Oracle.

Oracle: you need to eat, B.

Batman: i am fine.

Oracle: then you shouldn't have a problem eating. I know there are snacks in your belt.

The JL: is Batman getting bullied by his own AI?

Oracle: i am not a AI. And i will hold up this meeting until you eat.

Batman: *grumpily pulls out a granola bar and starts eating*

------------------------------------

Red Hood: *marches right through the Watchtower and up to Batman*

Red Hood: you did not tell Robin to "just watch" Pride and Prejudice!

Batman, calmly turning in his chair: i did, yes.

Red Hood: i can't look at you right now. I don't know if i can ever look at you again.

Batman: the one i recommended is praised for it's faithful adaptation-

Red Hood: it's not the same! There is no substitute for reading a Jane Austin work!

Red Hood: next you'll tell me you've never read it

Batman: *silence*

Red Hood: YOU'VE NEVER READ JANE AUSTIN?!

Red Hood: get your stuff, we're leaving.

The JL: where are you going?

Red Hood: to a bookstore!

Red Hood: i'm coming over for lunch tomorrow and you better be at least one chapter in. You hear me, B?

Batman: Hn

[lunarose-moonflower]

So I'm cooking up a devious little fanfiction in the labs that's kind of event fic disguised as a dead serious meet cute

Premise is that Danny has some pretty bad nerve damage from the accident and has always had some amount of chronic pain from it but it's progressive and got worse over time to the point where when he was 18 he literally couldn't be phantom anymore he was physically incapable of doing so

He's still the ghost King but he still wants to try and live a human life before fully retiring to his duties so he goes to college

Unfortunately his condition disavows him from being an astronaut but he can still go into engineering

The nerve damage is in both his arm and his leg due to him standing on live wires when the accident occurred causing the electricity to run through his leg to his heart and back out through his arm that means he has limited mobility and usually uses a cane to get around and has a service dog by the name of cookie who is trained for various things but her main purpose is retrieving small items throughout the day

He got his degree and in his 20s got a position at Wayne enterprises mainly because they were one of the only employers who were willing to hire him with his disability and provide him the appropriate accommodations

Danny is definitely struggling not only physically with the disability but also mentally because your body breaking itself down to the point where you can't perform or do the things you love is truly awful

Meanwhile Damien is going through some growth of his own he quit being Robin when he was 18 originally intending to be his own vigilante but only after a year of being Shrike he has a world class identity crisis and realizes that throughout his entire life he's never really focused on himself and who he was which led to him quitting vigilantism altogether

Now in his 20s he works as the CFO at Wayne enterprises while going to school to become a veterinarian

He is still very much in the process of discovering who he is after the realization that he never really had a choice in becoming a vigilante he didn't really have a choice in any major event in his life and he's still processing that

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Twenty-Five

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word count; 1,827

Themes; isekai, slow-burn (eventual smut), canon divergence

Warnings; swearing and some future mature themes

Notes; A bit of a late chapter, but it's still within my weekend limit so I think it's okay! This chapter is on the shorter end just because I wanted to get it out there and I want to sort of...speed through Xavier's myth because I'm sure people are growing tired of the dream sequence arc. Anyways, major canon divergence near the end, it's not too noticeable as of right now, but you'll see what I mean in later chapters!

Also I'm so sorry if you're reading this on desktop lmao. The title, masterlist, and stuff look centered on mobile, but on my laptop, it definitely doesn't 😭 I don't write on laptop though, so...if it's uneven, it's uneven 🤷🏻‍♀️

prev || next

☆ masterlist ☆

“Xavier?” You immediately stood up and cleared your throat, hoping he didn’t catch your conversation with Jeremiah. “You…had a rather short chat with the royal messenger.”

Though, Xavier remains quiet. His gaze moves from your face to the arm around your shoulders to Jeremiah’s pensive expression.

You could sense some…hostility.

“Don’t glare at me. His highness left her injured so someone had to step up.” Your friend says, putting on the dramatics. “She was drowning in a pool of tears because of your highness’s lack of mercy.”

“It’s a shame your kindness was wasted.” Xavier responds in a monotone voice as he pushes Jeremiah’s arm off your shoulder. “I should provide succor for my junior.”

Was he…jealous?

“Well, I was only acting out of the kindness of my own heart.” Jeremiah shrugs. He had a slight mischievous look on his face and you elbow him in his side.

The plaza was enormous yet Xavier passes through between you and Jeremiah, and drags you away by your wrist. “Xavier...” You sigh, trying your best not to put any pressure on your ankle.

“Aid your junior instead of mine in her moments of distress if your heart is so full of compassion, then.” And with that, Xavier’s gentle hand wraps around your wrist once more and begins walking in the opposite direction– slow enough so you can keep up with him as you limp behind him.

But, once Jeremiah was out of view, Xavier crouches down in front of you so you can get on his back.

Xavier was piggybacking you to your mentor’s lodging. Your mentor, a Grand Knight of the Lightseeker Legion, was known as one of the greatest swordmasters of Philos and a trusted advisor to the King himself.

This is why he was granted special permissions to live on the campus and this is where he teaches his students. Xavier took you here because there’s a first aid station that you both know all too well.

“Xavier, my legs can walk just fine! Seriously…” You sigh once he finally sits you down in one of the nearby chairs.

“Were you actually crying back there?” As he asks this, Xavier looks away. A crestfallen look washing over his face. “Jeremiah was just saying nonsense. Do you actually believe him?” You tilt your head down to meet his eyes with a raised brow.

“Let me check.” Xavier puts his hands on the arms of the chair as he leans in close to your face.

Hey…This seems a little familiar, doesn't it—

“Your eyes are red. If you weren’t crying, then you’ve got to be sick.” His voice has a soft tone to it, akin to crushed velvet.

“I’m perfectly fine,” you scoff and quickly turn your head to the side, ears turning red.

Xavier’s body blocked out much of the light. Cupping your cheek, he rested his thumb on your lower eyelid and stared at you. After a few minutes of silence, you flinched as he blew air into your face.

“Xavier, you– What was that for?” You blink with your now watery eyes and Xavier just chuckles and moves back from you, “I spotted a silhouette of a hooligan in your eyes. Now all is well.”

“Huh…A hooligan, you say? Do you mean Jeremiah?” You muse, leaning your back against the wall as you lightly swing your legs.

Xavier raises a brow at this before he gets an almost pouty expression on his face, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks out the window, “To approach you for no reason, let alone touch you…How is he not one?”

“You’re the hooligan for suddenly making that weird expression,” you fire back, unsure as to why Xavier is upset in the first place– well, you know why, but apparently she doesn’t.

You lunged forward to grab his wrist, wanting to question why Xavier looked so upset, but you moved a little too quickly and instead your body fell forward. Unable to stop yourself and with Xavier not moving, the two of you fell onto the carpet below.

Xavier lets out a noise of surprise as you land on his chest and you lightly hit it with your hand. “Why didn’t you move?”

“You’ll be walking with a limp if you twist your ankle again.” The way he speaks, it’s as if he values your safety over his own and you sigh, shaking your head, “Had I twisted your ankle, our teacher would never forgive us. He’d speak of…”

“The Grandis Knight is to be the King’s steady blade. Where his majesty points, your blade must follow,” He finishes your sentence for you and then looks up at the ceiling. “In every waking moment, every dream can I recite those words.”

You look around for a moment before resting your chin on his chest, not wanting to move just yet. “Hmm…Is he not coming back today?” Then your eyes widen and you groan, covering your face with your hands, “I haven’t studied the technique he showed me! I’ll be dead if he asks…”

“He’s with the other knights. He’ll be away for some time.” Xavier chuckles with a small smile, his hands slowly moving up to curl around your waist before they stiffen just before touching you.

“Ahem…”

“Hmm? You’re back already?” Xavier clears his throat as he sits up, making sure you don’t put any pressure on your ankle as you move to sit on the floor next to him.

“Ah…Congratulations on your flawless victory?” You sheepishly grin up at your mentor as you rub the back of your neck.

“Who taught you two to formally greet your teacher while on the floor?” The older man had a kind, yet stern tone, similar to a father exasperated by his loving children.

“Stand up.”

Well, after that…awkward moment, you have dinner together with your teacher. He speaks about the expedition, another royal family member lost in the dark sea of space, and then finally, finally asks about your ankle.

Which leads to both you and Xavier being unable to cover up your lies, and your teacher laughing at a future King using his future Grandis Knight to skip out on class and…since it was a tie, the two of you had to go outside after you finished eating and fight again, and again until a winner was decided.

Great.

You’re going to be so physically tired after this dream.

After fighting in front of the Holy Sword of the Goddess into the late hours of the night, Xavier finally gives you an order to sit down and rest. You both had won your fair share of times and your palms were bloody– maybe you should invest in some gloves…

Under the Goddess Statue, Xavier and you sat next to each other in the grass. Taking some medicine out of his pocket, he pours it over your bloodied hands.

“Ouch–” You hiss between your teeth at the sting of pain, “I think you used too much, Doctor Xavier.”

“And yet with remarkable determination, you didn’t appear to be in any pain until I applied medicine.” Xavier doesn’t look up as he pulls more and more first-aid out of his pockets. His deft fingers gently wrap a tight bandage around your left hand, before moving on to your right.

To distract yourself from the pain, you look up at the stars before noticing a glimmer of light on the Goddess Statue’s face.

“This monument was forged from the swords of previous Grandis Knights, right?” You never noticed the statue having anything on her face during the daytime, but you were curious about that…Well, whatever it is.

“Yes, did you want to know more about it?” Xavier finally looks up, hands pausing their task as he takes a moment to think before he continues, “Ehko.”

“Huh?” You turn back to look at Xavier, but he’s back to bandaging your palms.

“You wanted to know the story behind the statue, right? According to some ancient books I found, her name was Ehko. There’s not much else written about her, but that light on her face can only be seen at night. No one knows why though, the statue doesn’t have anything that can give off light on her face.” He’s hyper-focused on your hand as he speaks, wiggling your fingers to make sure they’re not too tightly wrapped.

“Maybe…” You look back up at the statue. “She’s crying?”

“Why would she be crying?” He asks, letting your hands go as he finishes wrapping them.

“Maybe she’s mourning the fallen Grandis Knights…or a lover perhaps?” You muse before shrugging. “Anyone can come up with a believable story, but when all is said and done, the statue is still a constant reminder of ‘Wherever his majesty points, a knight’s sword must follow.’”

“You are no knight.” Xavier shakes his head. It’s a wonder why he’s so unwilling for you to follow him, for you to stay by his side as a Grandis Knight with him as King.

“It’s only a matter of time before I am.” You sigh, pressing your lips together in a thin line as you lean forward to hug your knees to your chest. It almost felt as if…you didn’t want to be a knight, but you were forced into this role.

“So…why did his majesty send the royal messenger today?”

“They’re requesting I return like always. The royal messenger said the preparations for the Titulus Ceremony are underway.” Xavier sounded gloomy as he spoke, reluctant.

“The Titulus Ceremony…? So suddenly…”

As the only Prince of Philos, Xavier had to participate in the royal family’s numerous ceremonies, not a single one could be skipped when he was to eventually wear the crown. Especially a ceremony as important as this one.

“He might not make it this time.” Xavier looks away from you. His face, illuminated by the few fireflies that came out to dance around in the night, was rather neutral. The only hint of emotion came from the down-turn of his lips and the light dimming in his eyes.

“...Will you depart immediately?” You had to physically stop yourself from balling your hands into fists, instead opting to hold your hands together as anxiety bubbled in your chest.

You hear a sigh from Xavier and look up to see him shaking his head. A hint of anger flicks through his eyes before he speaks, “I refuse to forget that incident.” 

While this version of you can only speculate on what he means by this, you truly know the reason behind his anger, his resentment, toward his father.

It seems he really is the same Xavier from your first dream and, in turn, the same Xavier that you already know– and perhaps love.

It’s strange that, in all of your dreams, Xavier is the one you feel closest to, because he really is the same Xavier. He’s not a cold and callous demi-god nor is he a God of the Sea, he’s just Xavier.

I don't really have an author's note for the ending tbh 🤔😭 since I refuse to elaborate on the canon divergence stuff right now...so anyway, did you see the new 5 star cards?

I love cat boys so much 🥺 so this is perfect for me! They all look so good, but I'm definitely going to go for Rafayel's if I can.

Speaking of 5 star cards, I might include the main story branches if they're canon. Like if they come immediately after the MC returning from the N109 Zone! I haven't looked at any of them yet, but I will soon just to see. And if they are, they'll happen a few weeks to a month after the dream sequences (in story btw, not irl time), because Y/n is probably going to have a mental breakdown :D

Oh! I will add that Ehko can be pronounced as "Eco(e-co)", "Echo(ek-o)", or even "Eiko (eye-ko)", it honestly doesn't matter how it's pronounced so go wild

Taglist; @orphicmeliora , @yoongi-tunes , @mitzkooni , @hiqhkey , @tanspostsblog , @shypotatoes013-blog

[penvisions]

the melting point {chapter 17}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Baker! Reader (exEMT! reader)

Summary: You and Frankie have some conversations about the future, but not all of them are so serious. Meanwhile, the gang are up to something....

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: medical jargon, description of injuries (not detailed), mention of surgical scarring, reader has limited mobility, reader uses a walker, reader uses a wheelchair, panic, depression, anxiety, reader is self-conscious in her body, a lot of emotions, description of female body, body modification, reader gets some new ink, and someone else too, pet names, canon typical violence, frankie loses his temper (inspired by the one gif of him yelling about killing ppl), frankie gets overwhelmed, smoking, cigarettes, consumption of nicotine, a lot of emotions!

A/N: okay, okay, i know i said i'd post this on friday but my brain decided to be not so nice to me and make me stare at the document for this chapter for hours. but, it's here and i'm happy with it. there are so many grammar errors but uploading this is the last task of the day before bed, so they’ll be fixed tomorrow

if you have the time, please take a peek at the poll for this fic

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

You feel shy.

You feel self-conscious.

You feel like it’s the first time meeting him all over again the next morning when he descends from getting dressed upstairs and greets you in the kitchen.

You had woken up early, bones aching and enough feeling to shuffle with your walker toward the miracle invention that was the coffee maker. Spacing out as you held you left hand out in front of you and took in the way the diamond he must’ve spent countless hours working to afford was nestled in the delicate gold band that fit so perfectly.

All of his working despite you being in the hospital, being comatose and then being awake but a faucet of never-ending emotions that ticked from hot to cold at a moment’s notice. It had been to provide for you, to offer you a future with him, to spend two weeks of unbothered time with you to help you navigate the new routine of your life.

You startled when his arms wrapped around your waist, his forehead resting against the back of your head, rustling the untamed strands. You felt heat bloom atop your chest and stretch over the expanse of your neck to fill your cheeks. Ducking your head, you squeaked out a small greeting, bringing your hand back to yourself and settling it over the mug of long chilled coffee.

“Everythin’ okay?”

You could only hum in response, voice lost amidst the bashful way in which you were almost afraid to turn around and face him head on. His beautiful face, crowned by chocolate curls that you could spend hours running your hands through, the endearing scruff that tried to grow in fully but never managed to tinged with sparkling silver, those wide eyes that sparked warmth the second they turned to you.

No, everything was not okay.

He was beautiful, he was handsome, he was everything you ever wanted all rolled into one package. He was yours, now, and you felt completely unworthy.

The repeat of his question was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

Panic rose up suddenly, spurred on by the self-doubting thoughts that had been consuming you from the moment you woke up in a cold sweat. Your body tensed in his hold, his arms twitching as he felt it happen in real time. Your breathing became labored, legs twitching with the need to move, to run.

“I dunno who would be here this early…” He began to turn toward the door, hold loosening around you and allowing you to take in an attempt at a calming breath. He assured you he would be right back before your eyes followed his movement over the threshold and toward the front of the house. Without a thought for even the walking aid you had, leant up against the cabinets beside you, you pushed into motion and fled the room. Thankful for the layout of his house, you rushed on shaking legs to the safety of the guest room, hands heavy on anything that could help to stabilize you, closing the door and locking it with frantic movements. Tears of embarrassment welled up and you felt like a fool.

Anyone who would be coming to Frankie’s house was a friend or family. There was no need to feel the pricks of anxiety or panic that were spiking all over your body, beads of sweat budding on your temple and the small of your back.

Faint sounds of an easy-going conversation floated down the hall and underneath the cracks of the door.

The anticipation of them moving further into the house has the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, skin prickling. You have no idea why you’re suddenly so afraid, but you are and it’s stolen the very breath from your lungs, the voice from your throat.

“Querida?” Frankie’s voice called out, confusion coloring his words as he no doubt returned to the kitchen to find you gone and your walker abandoned. The cup of coffee you had indulged in alone on the counter. His muffled steps down the hall on the plush carpet had you gripping the handle of the door despite the lock still being engaged. Emotions overwhelming as the tears began to slide down your heated cheeks. His voice called out again, closer, and your heart thudded in your chest. “Sweet girl, you back here? Pope brought us breakfast, said he was headed into the office but wanted to drop by and say hi."

Silence. Save for the halting steps right outside the door. You could swear he was able to hear the way your heart was beating hard in your chest, knocking on the inside of your ribcage in a heavy, hectic pattern.

“Mante?” Santi’s voice called from down the hall, hesitant but laced with concern. His steps were louder than Frankie’s, presence appearing on the other side of the door alongside him. “How did she even manage to get far without the walker?”

The doorknob jostled as one of them tried to open the door, shaking your already trembling arms as they realized it was locked.

Your name was spoken with caution, worry saturating the sound.

“The door’s locked, Fish.” Santi’s voice was hushed, like it was a secret you were all trying to keep each other from knowing. But it was blatant, obvious in the way that your fingers had deliberately engaged it and the hands of theirs that had tried to turn it. The handle wasn’t budging and neither was the door.

“Sweet girl…are you okay?”

“Did you get scared, carino? It’s just me, I know I stopped by unannounced, but I just wanted to see you is all.”

The answer you want to give them is a ghost on your tongue. Existing only in your mind, never given voice. The door handle jostled one more time, a heavy sigh sounding as it didn’t turn and allow them entrance into the sanctuary you had sought out. Retreating footsteps weren’t enough for you to unlock the door, but you did retreat from it and slowly move toward the bed. Pain licked at you through the aid of the pain killers you had left in the kitchen, the intention of the coffee that had been forgotten as you got lost in thought and now hidden yourself away.

A muffled conversation, the sound of the front door opening and closing, an engine turning over. Then silence.

Frankie called your name as he padded down the hall once again, an edge to his voice that hinted at his growing concern. A sniffle and a lilt of desperation punctuating in his words. 

Surging up at the sound of his watered voice, you pressed your forehead to the door. You wanted to open the door and fall into his embrace, to soothe his tears and worries but you couldn’t. You felt so frozen, body unwilling to do what you bid.

“Sweet girl, just let me know you’re okay? You don’t – you don’t have to open the door, I promise. Just, I’m setting the walker next to it if you need it, okay?” Frankie’s words were soft, comforting despite the unease you were sensing through the door.

Before he could even think, his fist was slamming against the interrogation room’s mirror. The glass shook violently, giving away the audience hidden on the other side of the two-way device. The figures on the other side startled, the shooter breaking out into a wicked grin after looking toward the mirror.

“To answer your question, officer. There was no motive, she was just there, alone, an easy target to pick off until that bitch got in the way.” His words were snide, unflinching in honesty.

Another hit landed on the panel of glass.

The officer leading the interrogation leaned over to speak to the one standing guard at the inside of the door. A quick word into his walkie and the two men in the observation room were announcing that Frankie needed to step out and collect himself. Santi agreed on the angered man’s behalf, a guiding hand on Frankie’s shoulder as they moved toward and then through the door out into the hall.

“Hey, look, it’s not okay. But you gotta reign your emotions in check. We’re here to corroborate what happened, as witnesses.”

“Pope. C’mon, man, you know that hijo de puta needs to be locked up, with the heaviest sentence possible. My six-year-old daughter is having panic attacks and had to delay her entire school year. Mante wakes up every other hour, whimpering in her sleep and crying out like she’s being shot all over again It’s hard to see her that way and she can’t- she can’t even-“

A large hand scrubbed roughly at the tears of anger and frustration that began to cloud his vision.

The sound of the door to the interrogation room opening halted Santiago’s move to embrace the crumbling man. Frankie lunged, mind focused on the man being lead through the door in cuffs. Before anyone could blink, Frankie’s large frame was across the hall and pushing the smaller man up against the wall. The back of his head meeting the wall with a harsh thud. He let out a grunt at the contact, unable to shield himself or block the rage aimed at him as Frankie’s fist came down hard on his cheek.

“Frankie, primo, you gotta calm down!” Santi’s voice was harsh, tone biting to try and break through the chaos, the officers also stepping in to separate the two men before Frankie could land another hit.

“I’ve got a terrified fiancé back home who’s barricaded herself in a room and won’t even speak because of this piece of shit!” Frankie growled, rage taking over him in a way he couldn’t recall since his days running around jungles and guns an extension of his hands. An extension of himself and who he used to be. His shoulders were taut under his friend’s hands, pulling him back and holding his hands behind his back. One of the officers wrangled a pair of cuffs over Frankie’s wrists, the clink of the metal loud amid the sudden silence of the hallway. All Frankie could do was watch at the shooter was lead away, his heaving chest lightening slightly in pride at the sight of blood dripping from a cut that was in the middle of an already blooming bruise.

“Alright, now that that’s out of your system, we’re gonna have to keep you until you calm down.” When Santiago began to open his mouth to say something the officer closed his eyes and nodded his head slightly, beginning to lead a cuffed Frankie away. “We won’t press charges, but there’s no guarantee he won’t try to. We’ll vouch that it was provoked. Try to sweep it under the rug.”

“Of course, thank you.” The man moved away from Frankie to allow the officer room to undo the cuffs around his wrists. “We really appreciate you allowing us to sit in on the reading of the official charges.”

“I should be thanking you, you were the run who took him down, right?”

“Yes,” Santiago shook the man’s hand, keeping Frankie in the corner of his vision, unnerved by the violent display of his normally calm and cooperative friend. “Had my service gun on me that day, years of experience allowed me to keep an even head despite having seen my friend gunned down. And he- he’s normally so levelheaded with this type of stuff but it’s his family that was targeted. He’s allowed an outburst or two, huh, primo?”

“Well, again, thank you. Please feel free to reach out with any questions regarding the case but it’ll be fairly open and shut from here on out with his taped confession.”

“We need a weekend away.” Santiago spoke into the silence of the cab. He was in the driver’s seat, Frankie silent and stewing in the passenger side. The cloying scent of nicotine wafting from their twin cigarettes, the snick of their nails as they asked the only sound aside from the ticking of the cooling motor.

“Can’t even get her to come out of the guest room, I’ve been sleeping on the couch, hoping she at least makes her way into the kitchen, but that door’s been shut since you came over two days ago.”

“Is it still locked?” A long inhale, held on his tongue and them blown out the window between a frown, Santiago turned to his friend, emotions a hum lit up and amplified by the events of the day.

“I’ve been too worried to check. I don’t want her to feel cornered if I do and it is open.”

“She’s talked to Will a little more in depth about her past, maybe it would be good to call him over?”

“I asked her to marry me.”

The cigarette dropped from Santiago’s fingers, his curls bouncing as he tried to catch the smoldering thing before it could burn his leg. The breakdown you had on your last day in the hospital rang in his ears, the worry and anxiety you had been carrying around at the lack of physical attention from the man beside him now.

“Fish, that’s…that’s a lot. Are you sure-“

“She said yes.”

“That’s…that’s good, Fish.”

“But now she’s hidden away in that room, she’s…she’s going through so much and I just want to be there for her.”

“When you first started getting clean, you didn’t want to see any of us, remember that?”

“Because I was ashamed that it got so bad.”

“I think…even if you want to be there for her because you feel like it’s the right thing, you have to be there for her in the way that she needs right now.”

“I should call Will, he’s the one with the degree in this type of stuff.”

“Taylor too, he’s still in town, helping run the shop, right?”

“Yeah…”

“You know there’s nothing to worry about with him….right?” The question lilting from Pope was hesitant, the man unsure if he should broach the subject. He knew how these things went between people, half of a couple dealing with trauma by backpedaling into the comforts they know. He didn’t want to worry about you that way, acting on past emotions in the wake of such an event, but he did. For Frankie should that happen, for all of them should that happen. You moving out of the state and back to what you knew would cause a hole to open up in their group, a missing piece that became a part of the set.

You had brought so much with you as they folded you into their lives, a bright spot as they tried to move past the things they carried with them, that plagued them when it was too quiet.

“I’m not worried about him.” Frankie took a drag from his own cigarette, the last from the dwindled down filter between his fingers. He snubbed it out on the side of the truck before flicking it toward the asphalt of his driveway. “Talked to him a lot at the hospital, he’s…he’s just a part of her and I accept that. He helped me pick out the ring and said it would be a good time to do this, if the thought was already there and I know it’s only been six months, Pope, but…she’s – she makes me feel like everything is going to be okay.”

“She’s a good one, knew it from the moment she didn’t punch my lights out when I approached her in the gym one day. Just wanted to help correct a stance and she…she smiled so brightly at me and listened instead of waving me off.”

“She didn’t deserve this,” A hiccup forced its way through Frankie’s throat as he tried to tamp down swell of tears. He coughed, trying to rid himself of the lump in stuck in the base of it, but he couldn’t. The surge of heat that accompanied tears was all too familiar.

“No, but she’s strong. She’s got all of us to help her, she’s got a place with all of us to take her time healing and she’ll be okay. I promise you that, mi amor.” Santi reached over and pulled the shaking man into an embrace, hand curling into his hair and knocking the cap from atop his head. All Frankie could do was bury his face in his friend’s neck, tears falling as he failed to keep them at bay.

Neither man noticed the flutter of curtains in the living room window.

It was late, the only sound in the dark house was the ticking of the clock in the kitchen. Frankie had tried to sleep on the couch again, but when he woke up with a jolt of pain in his back he had retreated to his room. The third night of doing so finally getting to his ragged body. Frankie sighed as he reclined in his bed, heating pad on the highest setting below him and right on the small of his back. Sleep pulled him under, the day’s events having wiped him out.

Between Lex’s afternoon therapy, his trip to the precinct downtown, a visit to your bakery to gather the mail and a few more items with the help of Taylor. Dinner was hard, with Lex asking quietly after you, worried for you even as she struggled with her own emotions and what had happened. She wasn’t as chatty as normal, which was okay with Frankie, though he did wonder if she would be able to overcome what had happened. She was so young, it would follow her throughout her entire life in ways they didn’t know until they showed. She was already nervous in crowds, an obvious one.

 It was something Frankie had tried to prevent his entire life, the exposure to violence in his personal life, but of course it found a way.

Repentance for the things he once did and the violence he inflicted himself. Guilt and the urge to do something about it weighed him down as he tried to be the best version of himself for his daughter.

He didn’t stir at the sound of the guest room below creaking open or your soft steps as you hesitantly peeked out into the short hallway.

He didn’t stir at the at the clank of your walker moving around the hardwood of the living room, nor the soft pants of your exertion.

He didn’t stir at the sound of it clattering suddenly when you lost your balance.

But at the whimpered call of his name, almost scared from your lips, he was surging up. His feet carried him swiftly through the room and down the hall, to the landing of the stairs where he could see the shadow you made as you gazed up from the bottom of them. You had tripped on the first step and he hoped you hadn’t tried to scale them.

“I-I didn’t know where you were, I thought- I’m sorry. Just go- just go back to sleep.” Your voice was shaky, a touch higher than your normal timbre.

You moved your hand from the railing where you had reached out, looking for all the world like you had been about to attempt to ascend them. He was thudding down them before the words even left you, so quiet and hesitant.

“No, no, sweet girl, please don’t apologize.”

“You weren’t on the couch…” A sniffle, followed by a scrub of your hand underneath one of your eyes.

“I was,” Frankie rushed out as he sat down on the second to last one and reached out for you. You only looked at him through the dim moonlight filtering in from the windows, blinds closed but curtains still pulled back like they were during the day.

“You went back to your room, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ You turned away, hands settling back on the bars of your walker, prepared to leave him there, just out of reach. His heart panged in tune with your own as you wouldn’t look at him directly. The shine of unshed tears in your eyes hurting him so much more because he was the cause of them.

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m here.” He wrapped his fingers around your wrists, urging you to stay with him. You let him gently pull you toward him, his arms wrapping around you in a loose hug. Your hair tickled his face as he rested his forehead against your own. His own curls, wild from tossing and turning and then finally face planting crushed softly against you.

“…can you help me with a bath, please, I know it’s late….” You looked so scared, so worried about disturbing him and he mentally cursed himself for anything he may have done to make you feel such a way.

Moments later, you found yourself submerged in a steaming bath. Bubbles and Epsom salts comforting in a way you had needed. A warm washcloth was gentle on your back and shoulders as Frankie leaned down from his spot on the lip of the tub to run it over your skin. He was admiring the delicate work of the ink that decorated your shoulders and upper back. Thinking, not for the first time, that he wanted to get his daughter’s name.

“Can you…can you do me a favor?”

“Anything, sweet girl.”

“Can….can we just go back to being friends again?”

The sudden splash of the washcloth startled you, body jolting at the unexpected sound.

“Like…you want to give the ring back?” Frankie’s words were low, gruff in surprise.

“No!” You turned to face him, not liking that your poor phrasing and lack of articulation caused the man to think you didn’t want him anymore. He looked completely defeated, curls flopping over his forehead from the steam of the bath, eyes rimmed with dark circles, his facial hair a little longer and less tamed, deep crease in his forehead. You reached for his hands, just hanging from his wrists flat over the edge of the tub. Intertwining your fingers with his, you tried to explain better. “No, I very much still want to be your wife!”

A moment goes by, where he waits for the words he can see flitting across your face come to life.

“Just, everything is about the hospital, or therapy, or medication, doctor appointments. I feel more like a burden than anything right now and I just want, I just want to be with you like that again. Dumb jokes, the teasing at jumbled words, your casual touches. I want to be normal again, Frankie.”

“I-I didn’t mean to let that all fall away, I’m so sorry, mi amor.”

“You don’t touch me unless it’s to help me move around and it…that hurts Frankie.”

“I’m so worried I’m going to hurt you, that I’m going to do something wrong.” He kept his gaze locked on yours, brown eyes wide and earnest. You could feel the honesty and concern laced in his voice, he had been keeping his distance because he was scared. Seeing anyone laid up in a hospital bed was a lot, to see someone close to you? That was even worse.

You couldn’t imagine the thoughts and feelings he had been overwhelmed with for all those weeks. The thing that caused you to be there already so much. Doctors and nurses rushing you off to emergency surgeries, internal bleeding spiking, the postings of your x-rays displaying the slow progress of your broken bones. It had to have been so much for him, someone who is so caring and so willing to do anything for those in his circle. And he wasn’t able to do anything except sit beside you, hold your unmoving hand…

“I’m already broken, what could you possibly do, you think you’re really that strong?” You tried to smile, but he could see how worried you were, afraid to banter with him.

“I’m stronger ‘n you,” He brought your joined hands up to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “I’ve seen you struggle with a bag of flour how many times now?”

“That’s not fair! They’re bulky and awkward.” The smile that broke out across your lips was so bright, Frankie could feel his heart skip a beat in his chest. How could he have ever been the reason it dulled, intentional or otherwise. He mentally scolded himself for being so caught up in helping you the way he thought you needed and not the way you wanted. His friend’s words coming to the front of his mind.

“Point taken, hermosa.” He watched the way you perked up, complexion lightning and the giggle that bubbled from you made warmth bloom in his chest.

As you searched for the fallen washcloth, the movement jostled you, chest jiggling where it was exposed above the water and bubbles. Nipples perked in the shadows of the candles he had lit for the space after a mumbled comment about the overhead being too much for your eyes. He felt a different type of heat wash over him, his cock stirring half-heartedly in his boxer briefs.

“Okay, we can go back to you washing me now.” You held it out to him, but he ignored it in favor of swooping down and placing a kiss to your forehead, to your cheeks that were pulled up with more endearing giggles.

“Hey,” He pulled you closer to him, chest pressed to your warm back. No shirt had been put on, a whispered complaint about the fabric being itchy on your sensitive skin.

Your sleepy hum was the only response he got, not stirring at his quiet voice. Frankie buried his face in your hair, breathing in the scent of you deep into his lungs.

“Was thinkin”…” He pressed his lips behind your ear.

“Hmm?”

“I wanted to get Lex’s name.”

“What?” You stirred, confusion furrowing your brow. Taking a deep breath, sleep fogging your thoughts and making it hard to engage fully. The pull of your medication making it even more so. “Frankie, you’re not making any sense. Go to sleep.”

“As you wish, hermosa.” He pressed another kiss to the back of your neck, carefully tangling his legs with your own, hoping he wasn’t jostling you too much. But you didn’t huff or shift away, content in your sleeping state to let him get as close to you as he needed.

After what felt like far too long, the ebb and flow of your easy breath finally lulled him back to sleep, murmuring his love for you into your skin.

“Frankie!” Twirling in your spot in front of the coffee maker, you enthusiastically greeted the half-awake man as he entered the kitchen. It was mid-morning, the two of you having slept in a bit, stirring when Lex came into the downstairs room to ask after breakfast. You had both tried to rouse the snoring man to no avail.

You had tried to talk to her over pancakes, but she had shirked the more serious topics. You had let her talk on and on about the book she was reading, just having upped her level despite how much school she was missing. It was about jellyfish and she beamed when you showed her the blackwork piece you had on your calf.

She was far from her usual bubbly and energetic self, but she wasn’t completely shut down like Frankie had described directly following the shooting. You worried for her, truly. She was important to her and you promised her to make cupcakes later on if you could convince Frankie to run to the shop. She was in the backyard now, painting on the patio table, a sheet of protective canvas over the top of it.

“Uh…yes?” He was rubbing at his lower back, waiting for the icy hot patch he had just applied begin to work. He might need to ask for one of your pain pills but he didn’t want to take from your bottle.

“You wanna get a tattoo? Like for really real?”

He chuckled, sound deep in his chest, his voice huskier than usual as he tried to wake up. He had knocked out shortly after you, heated blanket covering you both in a makeshift nest of the blankets and pillows you needed to sleep comfortably while still healing.

“Yes, hersmosa, for really real.” The dimple in his right cheek caught the warm sunlight coming in through the window. Your heart fluttered in your chest and you felt shy again, like the man before you was too good to be true. You looked away, the sight of his tousled curls and his sweet brown eyes making you self-conscious.

“I was tryin’ to tell you last night, but someone fell asleep in their bath.”

Wide smile dimming sheepishly, you beckoned the man closer. His strong arms wrapped encased you, but he reached behind you and stole your mug from where you had just poured creamer into it. But when you didn’t move to wrap your arms around his waist, he paused.

“Pastel?”

“I-I’m fine.” You pressed your forehead to his chest, hiding away from him. His arms wrapped around you, hands cupping your hips and drawing soothing circles into the healed spots the hospital had inserted metallic pins. The only sound for a few beats was the chirping of birds out in the yard.

“You’re just….really, unbelievably handsome and I just…feel like,” You mumbled the rest of your sentence into his chest, pressing your face further into his shirt.

“You are everything,” Frankie’s chest heaved as he took a deep breath, letting it out to ruffle your hair where he places a kiss. “You are the most gorgeous woman, hermosa. I love you, I am so incredibly and absolutely in love with you. I’m lucky to have you in my life, you’ve helped me to feel more like myself than I ever have.”

You couldn’t help the small hiccup that bubbled up, his arms holding you tight.

A quick call to his mother to watch over Lex and Frankie was opening up the door to greet his mother. He helped to relieve her of the bags in her arms, saying she would make a few easy dinners to toss into the oven over the remainder of the week, to ease some of the day-to-day troubles. You moved to get up from the couch, laid up with Lex, an animated movie on the screen and two indulgent soda’s empty on the coffee table. But when you went to grip the handles of your walker, the woman clicked her tongue at you and waved you back down.

You settled back into the cushions, feeling reprimanded by the woman you had yet to officially meet.

“Sit, sit, I’ll come to you.”

Lex groaned out as you hit pause, wanting to be respectful. But at the look aimed at her from the woman, she sat up at attention much like you just had, an apologetic look overtaking her features.

“Mrs. Morales, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

She ignored you both as she moved in a flurry around a nervous Frankie, ducking into the kitchen to get a water, a damp paper towel, and the small collection of your medications and basic medical supplies contained in a small storage box with a handle. She set herself on the coffee table in front of you, handing you the water, a silent command to drink. As you did, she pulled out the thermometer, trading you the empty glass for it. Popping it into your mouth, she looked you over as she wiped at your face with the damp cloth, brushing your loose hair back.  

“Such beautiful color, natural?”

You hummed an affirmative, pulling the large cardigan you had thrown on closer, hesitant to let her see even a peek of the ink decorating your body. You weren’t sure how traditional she was, Frankie answering your questions honestly. He wasn’t sure how she would feel about them and it made you self-conscious.

When the thermometer beeped, she pulled it from your mouth to inspect.

“A bit high, why don’t we take this off and get some air on you, hmm?”

“Oh, um-“ She reached out to begin pulling the cardigan from you, but you jerked, seeking out Frankie at the front of the room.

“Mijo, don’t let those groceries go bad!” She waved her hand at him, spurring him into motion. While you watched him go, she carefully helped you remove the cardigan, not even batting an eye as the tank top underneath revealed the plants mirrored on your collarbones. She smiled at you, a gentle, comforting one. As if she could sense how nervous you were. “Oh-okay, whatever you think is best, Mrs. Mor-“

“Call me Isabella, we’ll be related soon enough, but you’re sweet to be so polite to an old lady like me.”

Turning in search of Frankie, your frantic eyes met his as he came back in from the kitchen. You thought he had talked it over with his parents beforehand. She gripped your hand in her two and gazed at the culprit of the secret you hadn’t known you’d been complacent in.

“This ring on your finger told me, mi amor, because you certainly haven’t yet.” Isabella pinned her son with a stern look.

“Mama, it just happened.” Frankie sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck, knowing he had been found out in an omission of information. Having wanted to get things back on track with you a little before you told anyone.

“Just happened? You proposed the day she came home from the hospital. I know you, bebita.” Her gaze softened, only a teasing edge to it with the raise of an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna be my mom?!” Lex squealed; her small body suddenly pressed to you as she wrapped her arms around you.

“Alexia, calme, be careful with her. She’s still recovering.” Isabella wrangled the little girl off of you and settled her on the other side of the couch, with soft words and the offering of a few candies from her pocket. The movie was turned back on.

“Now, let me help you get dressed, what are you two getting up to today?” She held the walker steady with both her hands and ushered Frankie into motion. He came to stand beside you, hands helping to dig you out from the blanket that had fallen around your waist. His palms were warm around your upper arms as he grazed them close, allowing you to wrap your own around his shoulder to pull yourself up.

“We’re uh, actually going to get some errands done. Maybe some lunch, if you’re hungry, hermosa.”

His mother nodded at him, keeping close to you as she helped you down the hall.

The shop was beautiful. Flash sheets decorating the walls encased in simple frames, funky art mixed in, photos of the people who worked there. A comfortable looking curved couch and a few chairs filling the waiting space, a coffee table with art books and references, photos of pieces done on the premises.

“Hi, I was wondering if you had any time for a couple of walk ins?”

The man at the counter looked you up and down, gauging the seriousness of your question. His eyes moved to Frankie, slightly behind you as you were seated in a wheelchair. The image you created was attractive, complimentary. From Frankie’s worn in black denim, to his simple caramel sweater, aviators hung on his collar. To your simple sundress and hair up in a messy bun, majority of your tattoos on display. Skin kissed by the sun and the casual comfortability between you despite the slight nerves that could be sensed from the tall man guiding you forward.

“Depends on the ideas, but we can surely figure something out.”

You turned to look up at Frankie, gently encouraging him to tell the man about his idea. But he was nervous, unsure of sounding like an imposter when next to you. Smiling, you shifted back to face the counter.

“It’s his first time,” You carefully surged up, and Frankie rounded the chair to hover as you took slow steps up to it. “He’s just a little nervous, but weren’t we all?”

You could see the pink bloom on the tips of his ears when you teasingly winked at him.

“He would like some script, his daughter’s name. Where were you thinking of again, carino?”

“Uh,” He cleared his throat, hands ready to help support you at the slight sway of your body. “On my chest, left side.”

“How big?”

Frankie turned to you at the question, unsure of how to answer.

“No bigger than palm sized, but at least half an inch in height.”

“Gotcha, well…”

“Frankie.” He reached over the counter to shake the man’s hand in greeting.

“Well, Frankie. Any particular font?”

“I was thinking cursive, but nothing too fancy. Easy to read.”

“Okay, give me a few moments and I’ll talk to the artists. See who has the time.”

“Thank you so much.” Frankie looked around the space, taking everything in, his fingers nervously twitching at his side.

“It…doesn’t hurt right?”

“You ever get scratched by a cat?”

“Oh yeah, Rig didn’t like that I was late with his treats one afternoon. Stung like a bitch, but it didn’t really hurt.”

“It feels like that.”

Half an hour later, Frankie was shirtless and standing for the placement of his stencil. The words Alexia Sueno in blue on his left pectoral, right over his heart. The spot had been shaved bare, his bronze skin on display and glistening with the shine of the lotion to ensure it was moisturized enough.

“Placement okay for you?” The woman doing his piece asked, gloved hands holding the paper that helped apply it. He pivoted in his spot, eyes tracking the way it looked as he turned this way and that. “I can move it if you want, just want you to be happy with it.”

“No, no, it looks good!” He reassured, moving to sit in the chair she had set up while getting ready at her nod.

“Alright, now I’m sure you asked your girl how it feels and while it is different for everyone, just let me know if it’s uncomfortable or super unbearable, okay?” She scooted her own stool close, picking up her wrapped machine and clicked it on. She dipped the needles into the ink cap, rubbing more lotion into his skin. “Just keep your breath steady. Ready?”

“Ready.” Frankie nodded as he tightened his hold on your hand, wheelchair pulled up as close as the artist allowed on his right side. The needle kissed his skin, the hum deepening in pitch.

Fresh ink shining, Frankie winced when a dry paper towel was rubbed over it to clean off the excess. The man from the counter walked into the room, brandishing his personal device at you.

“Did a few small doodles, any of ‘em look good to you?”

He turned the device around, displaying simple, clean lines. There were four different depictions of a helicopter. Frankie’s hand tightened around yours, having looked up curiously from watching his own artist busy going over the script once more.

With Frankie’s piece done, second skin applied over it and his sweater back on, it was now your turn.

You were seated in your wheelchair still, but your left arm was stretched out over a cushioned and saran wrapped stand. The small empty spot just above your elbow had a stencil ready and waiting.

The hum of the gun was loud but comforting. At the first touch of the artist applying the lubricant over the stencil was like a welcome home, the needle positioned just over it.

“Ready?”

“Ready.” You chirped.

The needle kissed your skin and all your worries melted away.

You thought you spied a familiar head of steel curls over a broad back in the crowd meandering past the restaurant’s outdoor patio and you called out. Frankie startled slightly, attention on the menu in his hands. He looked up to see you frowning, eyes narrowed as you tried to focus on someone in the crowd, a hand over your eyes to block some of the sun.

Sighing, you plopped back down into your seat fully, having stood halfway to call out.

“I’m pretty sure Pope just ignored me.” You huffed, grumpily twirling the straw in your water to face you and took a sip.

“He probably didn’t hear you, you know we all have pretty damaged hearing.”

“But he can hear the sound of Will’s silent phone on group nights to tease him over Luciana?”

Frankie just chuckled at your annoyance, loving the expression in wake of everything. It was adorable, the was your brows furrowed and your glasses slid down your face as you grumbled to yourself, looking over the menu.

Across town, Pope sighed in relief, knowing that if the bags in his hands had been spotted, it would’ve been a dead giveaway. He rushed across the packed lot he had left his truck in, the downtown area too unpredictable at the most random of times. But he had wanted to talk to the owner of the space specifically, knowing it would be a better sell in person. For them to allow him to rent the space for a night…

Frankie had just closed the door behind you both, bags in one hand and leftovers from the restaurant in the other when a knock sounded. He carefully set everything down on the coffee table, making sure you were comfortable on the couch before turning his attention to the door. A man in a sharp suit was on the other side, a large envelope in his grip.

“Mr. Morales?” He had a thick drawl, his words curling as he spoke. But it was anything but warm, his tone was

“Yes, how can I help you?” Your attention was pulled to the appearance of Frankie’s mother coming down the stairs, a full laundry basket in her hands. But your head swung back to the door at the man’s next words.

“You’ve been served.”

previous chapter || next chapter

dividers: lovely @saradika-graphics

taglist: @tanzthompson @clevergirl74 @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @anoverwhelmingdin @jessthebaker @peppermintfury @for-a-longlongtime @peppermintfury @tuquoquebrute @readingiskeepingmegoing @christinamadsen @heareball @soft-persephone @vivian-pascal

[cloudyswritings]

Hollow knight bugs & real world species

basically this is just a place for me to dump my thoughts about the species of Hollow knight characters. Let’s start with the easy ones.

Divine & Leg Eater: These two are very obviously a termite king and queen, Divine literally can’t be anything else.

Ogrim: The biggest shitter, dung beetle obvi.

Cornifer & Iselda: Weevils, aka the best bugs. Look at their proboscis’

Mantis lords: Mantids, probably based mostly on the Chinese Giant Mantis specifically.

Flukes: They’re just flukes, disgusting.

Unn: Objectively the best goddess, big slug

Quirrel: So it seems likely to me that Quirrel is a isopod of some sort, most likely an armidilidium species, I think it’s something about his hunched/slightly curled posture and body segmentation.

Radiance: A silkmoth, her wings look to be in proportion with the species and everything else screams silkmoth.

Grimm: it’s a common theory, but his resemblance to a vampire moth is striking.

Mask maker: Bro is very obviously a whip scorpion, the arms are what really seals the deal, but living among other predators with ease(ie deepnest) and twitchy motions are staples of whip scorpions irl.

Cloth: a Cicada nymph, hence her whole burrowing thing and the sounds she makes. Plus this is actually confirmed.

God Tamer: She’s an ant, but not a queen. She’s probably a worker who got separated from the colony. Her antenna are fairly distinctive in Hollownest and are very ant like. Plus she tames other species, something ant colonies effectively do by treating aphids like livestock

Ze’mer: So there’s two equally good guesses for what she is. The first is that she’s a silverfish, this would support her outsiderness given silverfish are a truly strange and primitive branch of bugs. The second possibility is that she’s a glow worm beetle, the adult stage of glow worm. This is also super plausible because of the antenna those beetles have lining up nicely with her fluff and drooping antenna. I think either one is a great interpretation.

now the harder ones.

Sly: So his size is notable, as is his eyes being very visibly compound, that combined with his mobility in the air and the sort of buzzing yoda type sound his voice has makes me think he’s a fly of some sort. Plus it rhymes.

Herrah: she’s most likely a horned baboon tarantula, the colors and size line up with what we see compared to the weavers and devout. Plus the horn on those tarantula line up shapewise fairly well with hers.

Pale King: This man to me has two different possibilities, either he’s a leg less lizard of some sort or more probably he’s some sort of really fucked up crustacean. We know Wyrms molt so that almost certainly rules out option one. My thought is that Wyrms have the same issues lobsters run into where they get bigger with every molt, so their exoskeleton gets heavier, thicker, and harder to break out of. Eventually they die, crushed under their own weight and unable to molt(this is when Wyrms generally abandon their larger form to make kingdoms). Verdict: something terribly cursed.

Bardoon: Bardoon, Bardoon, Bardoon, why must you be so difficult? So at first Bardoon really looks like a silkworm, the color is right, even the face of the two look super similar. But Bardoon is demonstrably longer than a silkworm has any right being, and his little nub/tail that you can hit distinctly resembles the “horn” all hornworms have. Despite that I’m nominally going to say he’s a silkworm until I find better evidence. Verdict: Concerning implications.

Gubs and Grubfather: Parasitic wasps maybe? The charm is called Grubberflys elegy, but their behavior mimics the way some wasps lay eggs inside of hosts so their young can eat their way out. Verdict: wasp things probably.

Tiso: So Tiso and Sharpe both look remarkably similar and from the very, very limited amount we’ve seen from both move similarly. In that vein they both look vaguely like assassin bugs, specifically assassin bug nymphs.

Vessels: Something even more fucked than the Pale King, they’re like mostly plant though I think? Like their masks look like his but are actually made of the White ladys bark/wood and grow constantly, their horns look a lot like her branches too. I imagine that their bodies have the same crustacean exoskeleton thing going on their dad has, so they’re probably incorporating heavy metals into their chitin. In all likelihood their mother being a plant and the light absorption the void displays means they’re photosynthetic in some way, it might explain how they grow too. The dangling bottom parts of the shades also look sorta like roots honestly, this also meshes well with how thorns of agony appears as void tendrils when activated. Verdict: Who tf knows, they’re definitely photosynthetic though.

The Shade Lord: So obviously this big chonker is literally just void, but their form distinctly resembles a dragonfly nymph, with four main arms/legs being used, and a distinctly predatory head shape. Plus we don’t see their bottom half, so I imagine it’s either a mass of roots like their mother, or something vaguely wormy. Verdict: Dragonfly thing

Isma: She is super fucking weird tbh, her head is shaped a lot like Vespas. Obviously however she’s some sort of pant being given the way we find her. My theory here is that she’s actually some other sort of bee, there’s a ton of bees that are solitary species. Based on that I’d say she was a bee— probably a white-banded digger bee— who became a devotee or worshipper of Unn. This may explain how the Pale king was allowed to build in green path. Unn let him build in her land and in return she got a loyal and powerful spy/pair of eyes in the Pale court.

[bellyyearner]

Feedist Kinktober 2024 Day 8: Plugged In

Word Count: 611

Thank you to @fatguarddog for the theme list!

GN feedee x Femme feeder, feedee POV, restricted movement, large feedee x small feeder, funnel feeding, limited mobility

Another quick one

Groggily you stir awake, unsure of how long you were out but certain your wife wasn't home yet. Your surroundings were so familiar to you by now that it truly felt like home despite the fact that you would appear to be a prisoner in your own home if any other than your wife saw you. But you loved it, it was all that you had ever wanted in life. A massive lard filled middle cascading over your knees, legs spread wide and yet your thighs still touched, ankles swallowed by fat, barely able to lift your arms because of how heavy and useless they've become. That last part could apply to the rest of you as well to be fair.

Your 600+ lbs frame was strapped to the custom built couch, ankles chained to the floor, straps going beneath your arm pits and around your shoulders bolted to the wall behind you, allowing you to reach out and massage your ever fattening gut. But the most important part of all was the funnel mask strapped to your face, and the large tank that hung from the ceiling next to you. The best part was that you didn't know when that tank would disperse more of the fattening concoction into you, you weren't even sure what was in it, but anytime your wife got frustrated at work or felt like you would be getting hungry she would pump more into you just by pulling out her phone. It didn't matter if she was only gone for her shift or a few days for a work trip, it wasn't like you'd be able to notice the difference in time passing, she has kept you so well fed and sedated that time felt like a foreign concept to you. You were completely lard locked and trapped in a never ending sleepy haze of gluttony, this arrangement had started in August of 2023 but you weren't even sure if the new year had came and went, frankly you didn't care.

The couch handled everything you needed, the tv remote is tied to your funnel hanging just beneath your chins, a toilet to handle your business built right into the couch, and a reliable steady flow of calories that your wife so diligently ensured always had enough slop and always made sure to fill you multiple times a day with. And you always knew that eventually she would return, arms filled with takeout, eager to take the funnel from your mouth and replace it with greasy concoctions coming from the mind of men with no care for how unhealthy it was. From deep fried Oreos, to chocolate cake shakes, triple stacked burgers dipped in lard, cups of melted cheese, pizzas with ungodly amounts of grease, but you loved it all.

Day after day you would be pumped full with a flavor you can't even register anymore, only to hear the front door open and her walking down the hall towards you, blessing your ears with sweet greetings and promises of food in just a few moments. Every time she came back and laid her gaze upon you you could see the sincerity of her desires to fatten you ever further, a pair of soft eyes filled with adoration getting closer to you before she pounces and unstraps the mask, caressing the red lines across your face before she places more food in your mouth.

Every time she returned home you got to see that you made the best decision for the both of you, you get to serve your wife in the way she desires, while she fulfills your desires as well. A perfect marriage.

[seramilla]

Blacksmith AU: Angst

One of Carmilla's wings are actually broken. Long ago, when some of the newer angelic forging equipment were being brought in, a heavy part fell and almost crushed a couple of civilians. Carmilla rushed to their aid only for her wing, and most of herself, to get caught under the object after pushing the civilians away. She was rushed to a hospital and she mostly recovered but now she has scars all over her body, the ones on her face were small but noticeable. Meanwhile, the bones of her wings, arms and legs were basically crushed. The doctors were able to save her arms and legs but wings are delicate and sensitive. They offered to get one of the higher up angels to see if they can help but Carmilla said no. Besides, it's not like she needed her wings to properly forge. She keeps them tucked away from now on.

Unsurprisingly, cause this IS Carmilla Carmine, her injuries do little to hinder her abilities. She actually started to make better and better weapons and halos to the point that some angels start asking for HER creations specifically. This strokes Carmilla's pride a lot which pushes her to keep working. This could also be why the Head Forger was quick to call the necklace a "product of vanity", it's not just him being a dick, he's SEEN the pride in Carmilla's eyes and he didn't want to risk it getting worse. Misguided but he DOES care.

When Sera eventually finds out about Carmilla's broken wing so she offers to help her. Unfortunately, the wing has been broken for so long that it can never return to what it once was. Sera can still make it so that Carmilla can fly, but there will be a very obvious "limp" to her flying

That's an interesting twist on the Hephaestus angle. Since Hephaestus was disabled with limited mobility in the Greek myth, it makes sense that Carmilla's might be related to an angel's most prominent feature - her wings. Of course, she isn't really bothered by her lack of flight. She works day in and day out and doesn't really go anywhere. She may feel more comfortable on the ground and in her forge. I'm sure if Sera was able to return her power of flight to her, she'd take it, because it's a gift from her beloved. Maybe the only time she bothers flying at all is with Sera after that.

[lilyginnyblackv2]

Buddy Daddies - Episode 12 - SPOILERS! - Rei’s Injury and His Hobbies - A Deeper Look

I was thinking last night about Rei and his arm, about hobbies, and also about accessibility, and how those tend to overlap in regards to the stereotypically gendered spaces of said hobbies.

Specifically, Rei’s gaming hobby vs. Kazuki’s cooking hobby. Gaming has tons of people of all ages, genders, and sexes that play them. But the sphere itself is still largely male first and male dominated. There is also a lot of focus placed on skill level, and there are plenty of “gamers” out there that look down on people who play games on easy level or who struggle with certain aspects of games, saying stuff like “get gud!” or whatever. 

I love games! I enjoy playing them, but I am definitely more of a casual gamer and I enjoy playing games solo (Rei seemed to as well, or playing with Miri, he never seemed to engage in online game play - that was likely too risky).

My mother enjoyed playing games ever now and again too. She was a very casual gamer, basically just liking classic stuff like Mario and Donkey Kong or even arcade games like Pac-Man, etc. She didn’t play much as new gaming systems came out like Playstation and N64, but she did used to have the option to play a game if she wanted to. Until about 10 years ago.

She had a stroke (due to medication for her heart condition), and lost movement on the left side of her body. She has practically all of her face movement back and her left leg works well enough, but her left arm and hand has very little to no movement. The option and ability to play video games became extremely limited, basically just to the Mario Jump game or whatever on mobile. 

The gaming industry has an inaccessibility problem. There are some customized controllers out there for single hand game play usage, but the quality of them vary a lot and they don’t seem to be all that good. Many games are crafted with single hand game play in mind (or even as an available option either).

Of course, Rei was younger than my mom when he self-inflicted that injury on himself, and he was trained in a lot of areas and skills that might make it easier for him to recover a bit more arm movement and adapt more to being able to play some games with only one hand (I know there are some gamers out there who have learned how to do this!). But, generally speaking, the gaming hobby is a seemingly male dominated hobby space that lacks a lot in accessibility options.

Games being more of an actual hobby, as in for entertainment purposes solely, rather than a mixture of hobby and survival skill like cooking (Kazuki’s hobby) is, also likely plays an aspect in the difference between ease of entry, use, and accessibility that you find within the cooking hobby sphere.

Don’t get me wrong, there is elitism here in the sense of people looking down on others who use pre-made food or who do this or that, but there are a lot of gadgets and tools that can help with cooking. My mom can’t really play video games anymore, but she can still cook.

Cooking, while on a professional and culinary level has a lot of connection to famous male cooks, is still seen as a hobby and overall seemingly female dominated space. But it is also a space more welcoming to accessibility. Using guides, like recipes, are common and accepted instead of looked down upon (like in gaming), and so on and so forth.

In the 10 year time skip, we see that Rei is cooking. How much he cooks and if he really cooks anything outside of his signature dish is unknown to us. Does he still play games at all on any level? We don’t know and can’t really say. Not with the info we’ve seen and what has been given to us.

The fact that his amount of game play in the day was already being limited before the incident with his arm (1 hour per day) makes me think it was likely a hobby that he likely wasn’t engaging in with as much as he started learning and obtaining new skills (like cleaning and cooking).

There may be other hobbies that he picked up over the years as well too, but really does make sense to me that he would start engaging more with cooking as well. Since it is a hobby and skill that is more accommodating to him now.

Also, I’m only speaking from second-hand experience (my mother’s experiences with things like video games and cooking and the like), if you have your own experiences with something like this are okay with sharing or talking about it - please feel free to!

[extralively]

Movie Night

Gojo Satoru/Original Female Character NSFW (it's just smut) 4,936 words Also posted on AO3 Summary: Satoru has Yura over for a little movie night, but what he has in mind is something completely different. So Yura decides to teach him to have a little patience as she... 'enjoys the movie'.

While I'm editing the next chapter of the main fic (coming soon!), lemme just post this oneshot here on tumblr. If you've been keeping up with the series on AO3, you might have already read this one!

Anyway, this is just pure filth and can be read as standalone. Enjoy!

Whenever Satoru asked Yura to watch a movie with him nowadays, it was an inevitability that it would eventually lead to sex. When it would happen was always up in the air—as in, if they were going to actually get through the entire movie or not—but in general, whenever they decided to hang out at each other’s apartments alone, sex was a foregone conclusion.

Of course, Yura sometimes still wanted to watch the damn movie.

...But she also had to admit that sometimes, she too had something else in mind.

“So, what’s the movie this time?” Yura asked, flopping down onto Satoru’s comfy leather couch.

Satoru soon joined her after he grabbed the TV’s remote, sitting next to her. “It’s a romcom,” he said, stretching out his long legs to rest his feet on the coffee table. “It came out recently.”

Yura shifted on her side, resting her head on the back cushion as she let her legs curl on top of his, her body halfway on his lap. “...It’s not porn again this time, is it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Satoru let out a huff. “That wasn’t porn! That was... an erotic movie. It’s a Japanese classic!”

“I mean...” Yura tilted her head. “The movie is like ninety percent very explicit sex—until the woman cuts the guy’s dick off at the end.”

“Well...” Satoru sighed. “That was only after the guy was already dead...”

Yura snorted.

Satoru eventually started the movie up, and their attention shifted to his ridiculously large TV screen. This time, it really seemed to be a mostly light-hearted movie, and Yura quickly relaxed into the couch cushions, letting her head rest against his shoulder as she curled further into his side.

As the main characters of the story started being introduced, Yura’s hand came up to hold onto the crook of Satoru’s elbow, the one trapped between her body and his—which meant that his other arm was free to caress her leg as he pleased. And Yura sighed in approval, enjoying his touch on her bare skin; she had already changed into what could pass off as comfortable pajamas: an old pair of shorts and an oversized sweater—she’d figured she would not be leaving Satoru’s apartment again until tomorrow so she might as well make herself comfortable, right? And Satoru had also had the same idea, having already changed out of his street clothes and into sweatpants and a loose t-shirt—both now perfectly cozy until all these clothes were inevitably chucked off somewhere later in the night.

Familiar story beats were happening on screen—nothing too innovative, bordering on cliché. Yura tried to focus on the movie, she really did, but it wasn’t particularly gripping... and Satoru’s hand on her leg was more than a little distracting. And that was before his other hand moved despite its limited mobility between the two of them, coming up to gently caress her thigh; that, she was more than certain, was completely deliberate. The bastard definitely knew what he was doing here.

“Satoru, it’s been like ten minutes since the start of the movie,” she told him, amused.

“Hmm?” Satoru replied, tilting his head towards her ever so slightly. “I’m not doing anything, I’m just... watching the movie.”

The smile on his face clearly contradicted his words. Sly bastard.

Satoru turned his head to press his lips to the top of her head. “Not doing anything at all...” He pressed another kiss there. “Wouldn’t want to miss this amazing movie.” And another kiss. “I think it’s good enough to win an Oscar.”

Yura was trying to bite back a grin, as she didn’t want to give in too easily. By now, she was fairly sure Satoru had picked any random movie just so he could have the excuse of a movie night, when in reality, what he wanted was sex. She had no idea why he went the roundabout way sometimes, since he wasn’t exactly shy about just asking for it directly—so the least he could do was play along a little bit more, couldn’t he?

“The movie does seem pretty promising,” Yura said, still trying (and failing) to keep a smile off her face. “It would be a shame if we missed it.”

Her hand slid up from his arm to his chest, and she started drawing random imaginary figures on his shirt.

“Such a shame,” Satoru agreed, his hand wrapping around her thigh to hitch her leg higher on his lap.

Yura let her hand trail downward on his torso, reaching the waistband of his sweatpants and sliding her fingers over it. She could feel Satoru’s stomach contracting briefly at the pressure, and she couldn’t help herself; she let her hand slip under his t-shirt to brush against the bare skin there, her fingers finding the contours of his muscles and gently tracing along.

...Well, that might have been a bit too much, because Satoru suddenly lifted his free hand to hold her head, tilting it up as his lips immediately found hers and—goodbye movie.

Yura smiled against Satoru’s mouth as he shifted on the couch, maneuvering both of their bodies so she would fully turn towards him as he moved between her legs. Her hand had to leave his stomach with the movement, and she briefly lamented the lack of contact before he was quickly on her again.

As her hands came up to cradle his face close to her, his lips were a bit insistent as they moved against hers, no soft and slow movements this time—instead, Satoru locked their lips together in deep kisses that had her head spinning. He kept pushing her backwards too, until she eventually ended up lying back on the couch, Satoru always moving with her as he settled right between her legs. He was quick to pull off his sunglasses and toss them away, and Yura had to smile again at his clear impatience before his lips were immediately back on hers. Why had he even suggested a movie night when what he wanted for tonight was clearly this?

Oh well. Yura let her hands slip underneath Satoru’s shirt again to caress his back, while his tongue pushed its way into her mouth. One of his hands made its way down her waist, tilting her hips up and making sure they were perfectly slotted against his—so that once he started grinding his hips down onto hers, she would definitely feel it.

“...Someone’s a little impatient,” Yura breathed out as they disconnected their mouths. And Satoru didn’t even give himself a chance to breathe, as he immediately pressed his lips to her cheek and started trailing down kisses all the way to her neck.

“I was out all week,” he said, in between kisses to her skin.

Yura snorted. “We had sex yesterday.”

“...Still plenty of time we need to make up for.”

She was pretty sure Satoru was grinning against her neck, and Yura huffed out a laugh that ended up turning into a moan when Satoru started sucking on that one spot and ground his hips onto hers at the same time.

Satoru certainly seemed to be up and ready himself, didn’t he?

“You sure that you didn’t get turned on thinking about that porn movie from last time?” Yura huffed out as Satoru’s hips started insistently grinding against hers, effectively starting to dry hump her. Yura let her thighs spread a bit wider, tilting her hips so the pressure would be on just the right spot.

“...That was an erotic movie,” Satoru insisted, lifting his head back up. “And no... Maybe.” He shot her a crooked grin.

Satoru’s mouth found hers again. When his hands slipped down to start tugging at her shorts, Yura simply lifted her hips to assist their removal, and Satoru pulled away from her so he could tug her shorts and panties away in one go. She looked up at him, amused; so that was how eager he was? Zero patience for anything else, not even bothering to remove her oversized sweater as he completely bared her bottom to him.

And he, of course, wasn’t too far behind; after tossing her shorts and underwear somewhere, he immediately started pushing down his own pants, also neglecting to remove his own t-shirt. Yura could help, she thought, still amused as she looked up at Satoru rushing to remove his sweatpants. But Satoru was just so darn eager, that maybe... he could learn to have a little patience.

Yura sat up as Satoru was about to return to her, sans pants. And as she placed a hand on his chest to hold him back, making him look at her in confusion, she tried biting back a smile. “...I still want to watch the movie, though,” she said, and Satoru continued to stare, completely befuddled—he’d clearly been expecting something else.

He was so confused that when she started urging him backwards, he just let her guide him without a word. His blue eyes were blinking up at her as if to ask ‘what are you doing?’, but Yura only smiled in return, pushing him back until he was finally sitting again on the couch. She gave him no chance to say anything then, quickly climbing onto his lap—except it was to sit on it with her back to his chest. Not exactly what he had in mind, and as she grabbed his hands to wrap his arms around her body in an innocuous embrace, she could feel the sheer confusion radiating from all over him.

“...Yura,” Satoru eventually spoke up behind her as she settled onto his lap, facing the TV. Never mind that both of their bottom halves were completely bare, and she had purposefully sat with his erection under her... “What—”

“Shh,” she interrupted him. “It’s movie night, and I wanna watch a movie.”

She was desperately trying to bite back a grin.

“Yuraaaa,” he whined behind her, his arms tightening around her body as he dropped his forehead against her shoulder. “There are more fun things to do than a movie.”

Satoru’s hands tried moving up her chest, but she grabbed them again and held them in place. “You said we were going to watch a movie—so we’re watching a movie,” she said again. But her hips shifted around, rubbing against him, and Satoru drew in a sharp exhale.

Yura kept her eyes on the TV, even though she wasn’t actually paying attention. And neither was Satoru, although she wasn’t surprised in the least—she could still see a mess of white hair against the side of her head, his face still pressed against her shoulder as his arms held her tightly to him. His hips tried grinding up into her, and she could feel him tantalizingly close to her unclothed core—but patience. She shifted on his lap, sitting up straighter, and it made him whine again.

She unwrapped his arms from around her, removing them from her body. “Behave. It’s movie night, remember?” she said, and Satoru whined again.

...But the thing was, she had shifted on his lap, with a purpose. She could now open her thighs just a bit more, and, there you go—his member was slotted right against the crack of her buttocks. And Satoru sure had noticed that, suddenly going still as he seemed to be waiting for what she was going to do next.

And what she did next was grind her hips down, slowly. Satoru let out a shaky breath, and she did it again, and again, and to be honest, the more she shifted back, the more she could feel him rubbing against her outer folds. She was teasing him, yes, but it also left her wanting more, despite her little plan to act as blasé about it as possible—so Yura couldn’t help herself. She shifted back some more, sitting further back on his lap so she could feel his entire length resting right outside her core.

Yura bit her lip, looking down at her thighs to see the head of him poking out from between them. What a sight, she thought, but when she ground her hips down again, it didn’t really provide enough pressure to satisfy her properly, his member still remaining outside of her folds.

So she took matter into her own hands, literally—she reached down with one hand and used it to press him up against her, slotting him between her folds and finally rubbing herself against him. Her nether lips were hugging his length tightly, increasingly coating him in her wetness with every movement she made. Satoru’s hands were gripping her hips, trying to urge her further, and despite all that, Yura was still trying to pretend that she was fully engrossed in the movie in front of them.

“Satoru, you’re missing the best part,” Yura spoke up, and Satoru only let out a questioning hum behind her. “Of the movie,” she clarified. She shifted her hips again, and she let her thumb caress the head of his length for a moment.

“This is not... the best part,” Satoru responded. “We haven’t reached the climax yet.”

Yura’s grin widened. “No, but we can’t just skip there,” she said, paired with another roll of her hips, the feeling of his member dragging against her folds way too good for her to stop. “Gotta go through the rest of the movie first.”

Yura let her thighs fall open some more, spreading her legs further on his lap. Maybe it was time to move on to the ‘next scene’, she thought, amused, and she finally shifted on his lap, folding her legs back as she essentially knelt down outside of his thighs. She still kept him pressed against her folds throughout, unwilling to break the connection, but once she was in the right position with her knees on either side of him, she finally shifted enough to let the head notch against her entrance, and she slowly sank down on him.

Satoru let out a long, shuddering breath as she took him in, and Yura herself did the same. Her hands came to rest on his thighs for support, the feeling of her walls being stretched open as she pushed him into her completely frying her brain for a moment, but not enough for her to stop. Quite the opposite; she continued sinking down until he was all the way inside, her hips meeting his and she let her weight drop onto his lap, taking a moment to just... enjoy the feeling.

“...Okay,” she eventually breathed out, opening her eyes back up. “Let’s watch the movie.”

Satoru let out a confused ‘hm?’ as Yura bit back a grin again, keeping her hips still. Her eyes were glued to the screen, and once Satoru realized she was not going to move, he whined again. “Yuraa—”

His hands started creeping up from her hips, and she had to knock them away from her. “It’s movie night,” she said, and even if she couldn’t see his face, she could tell he was pouting. His hands tried returning to her body, but she once again slapped them away. “Behave. Let me watch the damn thing.”

She wasn’t really watching the damn thing. Her eyes were glued to the screen, yes, but Yura had no idea what was going on anymore. Something something the main character needed to find a date, but that seemed almost irrelevant—not when she could feel Satoru hot and heavy inside of her, feeling him stretch her open on the inside. Satoru dropped his hands to the couch cushions once he realized she wasn’t going to let him touch, and he eventually let his body fall back against the couch as he seemingly decided to just roll with it.

“Is the movie really that good?” he asked, almost like making conversation. But to be honest, Yura had gotten a little distracted—when Satoru had moved, she’d felt him shift inside of her, and she bit her lip at the feeling.

“...Sure,” she replied. The fact that she was sitting directly on him made the feeling of him even better, seemingly increasing all the pressure there inside of her. Of course, sitting still for too long made her get too used to it, so Yura shifted her hips just a bit, just so she could feel him moving inside of her and she bit her lip some more.

“I was the one who picked it,” Satoru commented. Yura suddenly felt him start caressing the curve of her ass ever so slightly, brushing the skin there up and down until it reached where she was pressed against him. “I do have good taste.”

Yura hummed out a vague response, still trying to pay attention to the screen. But it was too distracting, feeling him slotted snugly inside of her; she thought she could feel something throbbing down there, but at this point, she couldn’t be sure whether that was him or her anymore.

Maybe both.

The main character on the TV was asking her best friend for advice, who seemed to be trying to talk some sense into her. Or at least that’s what Yura guessed, because her mind was elsewhere entirely—the feeling of him was almost too much, and even after all this time of them sleeping together, she was often taken aback by how deep Satoru could go.

One of her hands left his thigh, coming up to rest on her lower stomach instead. Her fingers splayed open on her own skin, slipping under her sweater as she absentmindedly caressed herself there. She wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination or not, but there were times that when she pressed down on her stomach like that, she thought she could almost feel him inside that way. Well, she could definitely feel him inside in another way, and she let her hips shift just the slightest bit again just so she could feel him sliding against her walls once more.

...This was actually really nice, she thought. What a fun movie night.

The main character in the movie seemed to have finally gotten somewhere with the male lead, and they were moving in for their first kiss. But before their lips could make contact, someone interrupted them, and then Yura suddenly jumped when Satoru decided to brush a finger over the sole of her foot—her walls immediately contracting around him at the tickling sensation.

“...Honestly,” Yura breathed out, though she was pretty sure Satoru had also let out a small gasp at the feeling. “You just won’t let me watch the movie in peace, will you?” she said, even as her lips were tugging upwards.

“What are you talking about,” Satoru said, and she could feel the sly tone in his voice even without seeing the accompanying grin. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Honestly,” Yura repeated, except that this time, she rolled her hips along with it. “Just let me watch the movie.”

Satoru, however, had nothing to complain about this time as Yura started moving her hips against his, pushing him in and out of her. In fact, she was sure she felt him fall back down against the cushions with a long sigh, his hands coming up to hold on to her calves as her hips rolled on top of him.

Yura set out at a quick pace, her hips moving with purpose. Her eyes also never left the screen, even if it was all a blur at this point—the feeling of him dragging along her walls was too good for her to pay attention to anything else. She adjusted the angle and quickened her pace, feeling Satoru’s fingers tighten against her skin as she heard his breathing pick up behind her, and it only encouraged her further.

Yura was completely focused on her own movements, her hands holding on to his thighs for support as her hips never stopped rolling on top of him. She did eventually change the angle again, her hips starting to move back and forth now, and that’s when she felt Satoru’s hand leave her calf to come up to her hip. She felt his upper body lift off the couch behind her, shifting closer to let his hand trail to her front—and she slapped it away.

“I’m busy,” she chided, still trying to bite back her own sly grin. “This movie is really good.”

“...Yeah?” Satoru breathed out, seeming confused again for a second.

“Hm-hm,” Yura nodded, returning her hands to his thighs, using them as leverage... but also caressing his thighs a bit. “You’re the one... otherwise distracted.”

Satoru let out a shaky breath, his torso dropping back to the couch. “I’m very distracted. Getting... more distracted by the second.”

She did allow herself to grin this time. “Then just be done with it... and get back to the movie.” Her pace increased.

Satoru’s hands gripped her calves again, breathing out her name. It wouldn’t be long now, she figured, letting her inner muscles contract around him; his fingers tightened on her skin at the feeling and she did it again.

Yura couldn’t help but glance behind her now, catching Satoru with his head thrown back against the cushions and his chest heaving up and down, almost in synch with her own movements. He seemed to be really into it, she thought, smiling, as she turned her head back to the front. She let her inner muscles squeeze him again, increasing her pace, and it didn’t take long for him to finally snap—his hips pushed up into hers, and she finally felt him start releasing himself deep inside of her with a long, drawn-out groan.

As Yura felt the warmth inside of her increasing, she let her hips slow down even as she squeezed him with her inner muscles once more, urging on his release. She closed her eyes this time, enjoying the feeling, letting her hips come to a halt by sinking back down on him completely and staying there.

As Satoru panted behind her, Yura let herself catch her own breath even if her body was still tense from the lack of release. This felt good, though, and she was enjoying it as part of the experience—the way she could still feel him inside, the way he made her feel full. And suddenly, one of her hands ended up returning to her lower stomach, pressing down gently, the thought of heirs and babies suddenly passing through her mind and Yura tried not to think about how those intrusive thoughts weren’t quite as unwelcome as they used to be. Feeling Satoru’s release inside of her was making her stomach do strange, but not unpleasant, flip flops—was this some sort of weird kink she had suddenly developed? She would definitely have to blame Satoru for this one. There would be no Gojo babies any time soon with her IUD in place, but the thought of them...

Maybe one day, echoed around in her mind, and Yura didn’t chase it away. Instead, she let her palm warm up her stomach, just as she could still feel Satoru warming up her insides.

...and he was definitely still warm and hard inside of her. So much stamina, she mentally laughed; he was showing no signs of softening anytime soon.

Yura’s lips tugged up.

Round two, then?

“...You still watching that movie?” Satoru eventually spoke up, still a little breathless.

“Yep,” she answered. But she let the hand on her stomach trail down, slipping between her legs until she reached the spot where their bodies were joined. Yura let her fingers brush against the base of his length, even if there wasn’t much space for it as she had sunk down on him completely. She teased both him and her there with gentle touches, and she couldn’t tell whether the stickiness she was feeling was from her or him or both.

One thing that did occur to her, though, was the fact that, hold on, there was a bit of him left that she could still take in, right? Her fingers rubbed against it and then against her folds wrapped around him, feeling his fingers tightening on her calves again. So Yura shifted her hips back, adjusting the angle and pushing down, and yeah—just a little bit deeper.

She stayed like that for a while longer, enjoying how it felt. It was almost like she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began—they were completely joined as one like this. She would have never imagined this feeling could be so intoxicating, a sudden wish for them to stay there forever passing through her—if only her body hadn’t started craving more.

The characters on the screen seemed to be finally hooking up, a modestly filmed sex scene starting up that couldn’t compare to what was going on outside of the TV. Satoru’s hands found her buttocks again, but instead of caressing them, he began squeezing them in his hold, playing with the flesh there. Yura briefly wondered if he was enjoying the sight back there, but her brain was suddenly emptied when she started shifting her hips slightly, enjoying the way Satoru was prodding at the deepest parts of her. Just lightly shifting her hips on top of him, pressing down to feel the pressure of him inside, but her movements eventually started to increase bit by bit. She began raising her hips and sinking back down, feeling him drag in and out of her and then in again—and this time, she was focusing on herself.

Yura’s hips kept moving up and down, making sure to adjust the angle so she could take him in as deep as she could with every thrust. Her movements couldn’t be too fast if she wanted to keep sinking in all the way, so she made up for it in intensity. She was almost bouncing on his lap, her hands gripping his thighs again as she adjusted her hips to push him in harder, stimulating something deep inside of her every time. And all the while, Satoru did nothing but let her do as she pleased, his hands cupping her ass almost like he was holding it up for her.

The movie in front of them was long forgotten as Yura let her head fall down, too immersed in the way her walls were being forced open every time she pushed him in. She could definitely feel something leaking out from where they were joined, her mind briefly registering it as his previous release—while the other part of her mind was saying more.

“Yura,” he breathed out her name, his hands sliding down from her behind until they were gripping her calves again. Yeah, she wanted more—more of him, more of this, just... more. So one of her hands eventually left his thigh, pressing down on her stomach again (was she really feeling him there or...?), and slowly, she slipped it down between her legs. As she started rubbing herself, her desperation only increased, her movements becoming erratic as she gripped his thigh harder. Her legs tensed and relaxed and tensed again, and she could feel Satoru’s legs doing the same under her. Come on, now, she thought to herself. A little more—

And it finally hit her, her hips roughly sinking down completely as her walls clamped around him, squeezing him, as her orgasm crashed over her. Satoru seemed to join her right after, his hips thrusting himself even deeper as she felt his warmth filling her up again.

Yura stayed still, letting the waves of pleasure wash over her. Her walls were spasming around him and she suddenly felt full again—not even realizing her hand had moved up from between her legs to rest on her stomach once more.

...Ah, shit. Definitely a new kink.

She could feel Satoru’s heavy breathing behind her as they both struggled to catch their breaths. His tight grip on her calves eventually loosened, and he was the one to finally break the silence.

“That’s... one hell of a movie,” Satoru spoke up, still breathless.

Yura laughed.

Once her eyes were unscrewed shut, her gaze eventually landed on the TV again. The movie was still playing.

With a long exhale, Yura let her torso fall back against him, feeling his chest heaving against her back in synch with hers. He sadly ended up slipping out of her with the movement, but his arms eventually came to circle her body, holding her close.

She sighed. Her hands came up to rest on top of his, her eyes landing on the TV screen again. The movie seemed to be close to its end, the main characters trying to resolve a misunderstanding between the two, but Yura was too busy feeling Satoru’s release slipping out of her to pay attention to the screen.

(...His couch was leather, it should be fine...)

“You know,” Satoru started, pressing his lips to the side of her head. “We could put on another movie after this...”

Yura laughed again, awkwardly unfurling her legs from under her and stretching them out. “We could,” she agreed.

She felt Satoru grinning against her cheek. “We could even go watch a movie in the bedroom, and then in the bathroom—”

“You don’t have a TV in the bathroom,” she reminded him.

Satoru huffed out a laugh. “We can get creative.”

Yura laughed with him; that they could...

[suchusoid]

The ghastly tale of ghoulian

Ive made posts about villain groups in my rewrite, now its time to see talk about some independant villains, starting with the gentle apparition, ghoulian.

Real name: Louise reginald

Quirk: haunted house

Quirk description: haunted house allows the user to merge into any house or building they come in contact with. Once merged, the user can mold and shape the house and its furniture and applies however they please. They can sprout body parts such and eyes and and arms from the walls. They fan make the furniture come to life and bend in ways thought impossible, or even make the house sprout legs and become mobile. Fire can be quite dangerous to the user for obvious reasons, electricity can stiffen the household and limited its shapeshifting abilities, and should the quirk be forcefully deactivated, the user will emerge from where the first fused and the house will return to normal.

personality: despite her ghostly appearance, and status as a villain, louise is one of the biggest sweethearts you'll ever meet, she cares deeply for her younder brothers and will do anything to protect them untilt their able to find their own place to live once they become adults. Louise is also quite good with kids, letting children take refuge in her lair. The only reason she is considered a villain at all is from illegal quirk usage, and stealing from local businesses to feed herself and her brothers.

Story: louise was born with her two younger (and quirkless) brothers jason and earl in america, but her family was evicted from their home and traveled to japan in hopes of a better life. Unfortunately, both parents had died during a storm out on the beach. Now having to fend for themselves, the kids discovered an abandoned mansion on the coast with secret underground tunnels. Louise used her quirk to possess the house and remolded it to be more suitable. Since then she has used the tunnels to snake their way up and steal from local businesses to feed her and her brothers. This catches the attention of pro hero gang orca and vigilante herpeton to investigate. They decide to team up and male theri way through the ever changing house. Eventually herpeton is able to reason things out with ghoulian, offering to financially support her and her family sot ehy won't have to steal. Gang orca at first wants to arrest ghoulian, but comes to realise that she was only doing this out of desperation and necessity, he decides it wouldnt be fair to lock her up with the maniacs and madmen, and leave her quirkless brothers at the mercy of this soul crushing society. After the secret villains reformation program(SVRP) was established at ua, the reginald sibling took refuge there, with louise becoming the security guard of ua city, using her quirk to keep out intruders. She transformed ua city into a giant monster with her quirk to help stop the maestro and his army of pro heroes during the mva arc.

Welp. Thats one down, two more to go, hope you all liked louise, shes the first villain ive thought up for this rewrite.

[doubleedgemode]

I just got a few stitches (for a little intervention, so don't worry, I'm fine!) and it made me realise how stitches can limit the area's mobility... I wonder if back when A.B.A had stitches (or if she has them now*) that kind of influenced her way of approaching movement. Hmm

Oh and ofc. There's Paracelsus having a sewn mouth.. I suppose being a fucked up magical focu-WAIT. she only has them in key mode. What if when he became a key he gained the stitches cause A.B.A's influence (*adds this to the Paracelsus becoming into something familiar to get close to her is not that dissimilar to an anglerfish luring an unsuspecting fish/an orchid mantis' modus operandi)

(*afaik, headcanons aside, only times for now that we have seen A.B.A be depicted with LONG stitches is in her "birth" picture, in her legs, and, if you wanna count it, her (scrapped?) concept art with her having some in her forehead (internet translator said (maybe metal iirc?) wire... Dunno if that's a medical term or a mistranslation of whatever word they use in japanese, but that would truly add to her frankenstein motif, which, makes sense as IIRC said sketch was the one mentioning said influence. But I digress, maybe they could be taken away before isuka/xx/ac, but the influence in movement thing could still work, as A.B.A had them just after being born, they could have influenced her back then before she healed/learnt that "WAIT you can take them off?"

I have seen headcanons that maybe A.B.A wears her bandages to hide stitches (and um well stop bleeding) which I really like, even if I myself wouldn't commit to that idea. In Strive, her alledged neck stitch at least would have been healed since we see it in the open I think. But ALSO I have seen strive a.b.as with franken-neck stitching and I LoVe them so much. She looks so cool. Keep doing that if that's already your jam please.

My personal hc is that due to her advanced healing factor *Effusively points at how FAST she could heal wounds AND reattach her arm in Night of Knives* , she can heal stitch-requiring wounds almost asap, HOWEVER, unless really necessary she'd think it's an unnecessary use of her blood reservoir. Also, even if she can heal fast, she's so... SO... A.B.A that she then quickly gets new wounds out of reckless activities lmao.

I do believe she has enough knowledge to attend herself in these cases (probably with no anesthesia) but she's definitely not gonna get picked by the unlicensed doctors union for sure

But maybe all of this is moot cause maybe stitches aren't as tight as I thought (I just got mine I have no experience) and esp for a stitched up creature is nbd but.. still

[yell0wsalt]

New Fic: Shinishi of the Deep

Rating: T

Relationships: Iroh II-centric, background Irosami

Word count: 1050

Summary: It was the way The Shinishi peered from the depths of the sea, sights locked in on Iroh. How sinister

full fic below:

Iroh lived for the sea. He recalled growing up how his mother used to constantly tease he must have been a fish in another life. Joke or not, Iroh always felt a tug in his spirit for a life out there. The high notes the salt sings complemented the soothing lows of the crisp water, the waves ebbed and flowed against the shore as a siren’s call. It lured him in, full of wonder and beauty. Full of discovery and promise that there was always more to explore, to learn, and to appreciate. 

Normally.

As of recent, the seductive call out to the sea as his home– well, second home, rather, Iroh corrected himself, absentmindedly thumbing the gold band on his finger– began to turn polluted, overwhelmingly tainted by something more dreadful and sinister.

And it was all thanks to it.

The Shinishi.

Ever since Iroh’s latest deployment overseas to provide naval support in the war, time stood still for him while everyone else has tried to move forward in restorations and heading. Historians may one day look back on the fight and objectively consider it a victorious fight for his forces, but at what cost? 

What was the price to take down the enemy?

Turned out to be over a thousand members of his crew. 11,725 to be more precise.

The crystalline vibrance the seas one held in his eyes was lost to a dull stormy gray. Consumed by the mighty power of The Shinishi.

Iroh closed his eyes, reliving the experience and the resultant aches the fight caused. 11,725. Never in all his years of service has he experienced loss on such a scale. 

Good, strong, wonderful people with unique names, faces, families, personalities, and stories.

All of their lives were lost under his direction. It ate him alive to fall in a spiral, replaying events of the deployment over and over and over again. His mind never ceased to consider alternate choices he could have or should have made, hypothesizing how those would have turned out.

How could he have saved them? Why did they die? How could he have prevented the ear-piercing wails of agony telling their families the news. 

The stories of their lives ground to an abrupt halt, remaining forever incomplete. 

It made him want to punch a wall and tear his hair out.

The salty scent of the sea which carried the life cycles of all forms of marine wildlife in a harmonious blend, was now tainted by the wretched stench of his comrades’ deaths. 

The roaring waves which crashed against the rocky shores turned to the sounds of his crew in their last moments pleading for their lives. I don’t want to die!

With an iron grip, Iroh fisted the loose fabric of his pants so tight, his knuckles blanched. He drowned in the rawness of the memories before aggressively wiping his face. 

Hard to imagine it had been months since.

With each inhale of the oceanic air, each look at the vast body of water, each passing thought of them in his mind, it awakened The Shinishi and its hunger. It peeked from the depths of the ocean, sights locked in on Iroh.

Reaching out from the water, The Shinishi’s dark and heavy tentacles cast a shadow over Iroh before slyly moving down to snake around his arms and legs. His mobility became limited and draining, physically and emotionally. 

“Iroh, are you okay?” his wife started to extend an arm carefully for comfort.

While her reach was reluctant out of caution, the Shinishi was quick, ruthlessly moving another limb to wind around his neck. Breathing was laborious– speaking, a near unbearable task. 

He met her eyes listlessly, half-heartedly noting them being full of worry as an afterthought. All he could manage was a curt nod for her. 

“Fine,” he hastily replied. 

Minding the acrid taste in his mouth at the half-assed lie, he could no longer bear to look Asami in the eye. A low sigh in resignation before the need to turn and break away became overwhelming.

Asami’s arm fell to her side limply when Iroh stepped away from her. A helpless piercing gaze never broke from Iroh’s once strong stature until he eventually turned out of sight.

With each dreadful day that passed, The Shinishi’s limbs covered more of his body, seeping deeper into his skin like a festering sore. They weighed him down as a sluggish curse.

It wasn’t long until the monster’s grip made itself at home in Iroh’s heart.

Thump thump. Thump thump. 

More tightly it squeezed. 

Thump. Thump thump. Thump.

Iroh’s breath tripped in his chest.

Steadily permeating his spirit, The Shinishi began to sneak into his head and whisper sickeningly sweet words of longing. Follow me. Join me. Be where you belong with your comrades in the sea.

Iroh spared a glance ahead of him further into his home. He observed his wife and children full of laughter and smiles he wished he could reciprocate. Instead of the scene being a soothing balm from his worries he recalled in hazy memories, it now left him with a hollowness in his chest.

Indifference.

A beat later, Iroh wordlessly made a half pivot to the door. He looked out to the sea. To where he belonged. It felt so right. So inviting. So tempting to only–

“Iroh, honey?”

At Asami’s call, Iroh’s far off gaze floated back to recenter on her. When did she get over here? Last he recalled she was occupied enjoying time with their kids. How long had he stayed in place, watching them from afar?

She placed a hand on his cheek, coaxing him to face her properly. Urging him to meet her more intimately.

“Will you join me? Us?” Her other hand reached up to card her fingers through his hair and thumb at the lines of tired weariness on his forehead. “Please?”

A flicker of light came to Iroh’s eyes. He noticed the hurt behind her expression, the lines of fatigue underneath her eyes. Observing her like this so closely induced a hard twist in his chest.

Should he listen? While the Shinishi’s grips let up on his heart, if only for a moment, Iroh still kept an ear out to the sea in silent longing. 

Join me.

[skye-huntress]

The Witch from Mercury Season 2 Reaction

Episode 14: “What They Wish For”

So it was Miorine’s mother that started the Quiet Zero project. We know what kind of person Delling is, but who was Notrette?

Using data storms to control other networks, with Aerial as the trigger. Sounds like the ultimate hacking tool. Can’t be any war if all the machines are controlled by one person

I don’t know what those Spacians are so squeamish about. Naturally sourced goat milk is probably much better for them than whatever crap they usually eat

Martin is clearly not happy with Nika about the incident with the Pharact, and the secrets she’s keeping

Number 5 is really pushing it here. Suletta, I know you don’t know what is different about “Elan”, but you can and should establish some boundaries.

Sophie is making it clear that if anyone is going to be stealing Suletta from her bride, it’s going to be her

I wonder how much the Dawn of Fold actually knows about “Elan”. It’s not a secret anymore that he pilots Gundams, but Norea seems to understand at least that the Pharact isn’t safe to pilot and that No. 5 is on borrowed time

I have been wondering though, what No. 5 could possibly want. At the end of the day, no matter how clever he thinks he is, he’s still just a tool, taking all the risks while another takes all the credit.

Is he comparing Norea to No. 4? I can kind of see it

No, Suletta, the “Elan” you think you know isn’t gross, but the one you see now can be described by far worse adjectives

What does being a “real” sister mean? Sophie doesn’t seem particularly bright so I doubt there is any deeper meaning to what she is saying that I can possibly understand through logic

Suletta is nothing if not faithful to Miorine

Uh oh, Sophie has a target now. I suppose we should have expected her to set her sights on Miorine sooner or later, given her obsession with Suletta

Look at that, Secelia doing actual work at the duelling committee. I thought she was just there for the couch

Oh, Lauda. You should really reconsider this course of action, lest you learn your lesson hard way, just like your brother did

It’s rumble time and everyone wants a piece of Suletta. I admit I am a little grateful that No. 5 is backing her up. Ugh, even just the thought is making me queasy. I apologise for actually daring to post this

Seems Chuchu has also suffered PTSD from the terrorist attack and now she can’t fight like she used to

You’d think Lauda would understand that his best bet would be to team up with the other pilots

Oh, there’s Sophie! So they did come with their Gundams. Bold choice

What did I say last week?! What did I say?! I said that Sophie competes in the Rumble Ring, there’d be a literal massacre. This has turned into another terrorist attack

And now they have their own GUND-bits, too

Seems No. 5 isn’t keen on using the GUND format himself. He does strike me as a self-serving prick.

So the real plot for this attack was a smokescreen so that Shaddiq can kidnap his father. I think it occurred to me halfway through last episode that Shaddiq was going to betray Zenelli

Sophie spitting the facts we’ve been waiting for someone to say. Let’s be real, Suletta, are you actually learning how to build schools at Asticassia? You’re in the pilot program, lining how to use the weapons on your mobile suit to destroy targets. Aerial is armed to the teeth and has a beam laser that melted the legs off a mobile suit even with a limiter program

The truth has been revealed, Aerial is Eri in the body of the ultimate mobile suit, capable of using the GUND format and data storms to control other machines

No wonder Sophie couldn’t find what she was looking for in Suletta. Eri is the dangerous one, the one who tears her opponents apart for her mother and sister

Prospera has been helping Delling with Quiet Zero, but Delling insists he’ll be in control. But the truth is that Prospera has set it up so Eri will be the one in control. And it sounds like Eri was given the same speech about how its okay to kill to protect those you love.

But that begs the question, what is Suletta? She’s the spitting image of Eri, even though her father died long before Suletta should have been conceived. How does she even exist? What is her role in this plan? Is Suletta just a cover for Eri? Is she supposed to be what Eri wants to protect and change the world for?

Didn’t expect Sophie to die so soon. Her obsession drove her past her limits, but I suppose its a small mercy her death wasn’t by Aerial’s hand. I’m not sure how Suletta’s conscience could have handled that

Shaddiq sent Hanao to stop Nika from spilling, but they didn’t know she had already exposed herself to Martin. It seems clear that he was the one who reported Nika to the authorities when he saw the terrorists’ Gundams