#for having a disability that makes it hard for him to express his thoughts and quick to anger

[todayisafridaynight]

everyday i constantly think of masato's wheelchair and if that's his only one/main one no wonder he's so pissed at everyone

[thespacesay]

i find it fascinating (/negative) how people think there's some clear and present divide between physical and mental disabilities, and treat it as if the only overlap is when you have both.

like... for one, can we acknowledge that there is not, in fact, a binary of types of disabilities? how do you describe cognitive disabilities that affect both physical and mental function? what of disorders that originate in exclusively physical ways (ie, post concusive syndrome) but present with strong mental symptoms (anger, change in personality?)

how can you claim to support neurological disabilities and claim that ADHD is not, in any way, a physical disability? why is it different only if the presentation of a disability is seen as mental?

like... genuinely speaking, when I see posts insisting that movements around disabilities are meant for only the physically disabled, all I can believe is that you too have fallen victim to ableism. You are using a baseless categorization to separate and divide when the border is always going to be fuzzy, and always going to be used to hurt rather than help on a systemic level.

[our-hextech-dream]

i haven't seen anyone fully articulate what i personally felt disappointed by wrt viktor's s2 persona and ending so i guess i have to do it myself even tho i'm bad at talking!! can someone who is better at this just read my mind and say it fancier and more coherently?

agency, the loss of

i have seen people already mention the way disability came into play at the end and what a wild choice it was for jayce - born able-bodied and healthy - to be the one to tell viktor - trapped in a body that was actively killing him - that actually your disability is a part of you and made you who you are and you owe everything to it. ... huh? jayce (by which i mean the writers), do you think without his disability, viktor wouldn't have still been a genius? yes, viktor is disabled - that's not even remotely what makes him a compelling character and power player. it is his mind not his body that makes him who he is. the fact that he had to waste almost his whole life fighting against that body to achieve anything is the entire crux of his frustration - imagine what he could have dedicated his mind to if he weren't constantly struggling to find a way just to survive another year, another month, another week, one more day. have you thought about it? because he has. so yeah that whole conversation, trash. bruno mars just the way you are ass one direction that's what makes you beautiful ass argument. viktor was not going crazy over cosmetic surgery, he was trying not to die.

but it strikes me as just one more expression of an overarching theme for s2 viktor - that of the complete and total loss of his agency. (more on a meta level than in the show itself, but also in the show!) i said after act 1 that viktor had died in that explosion and jayce was going to be chasing that corpse until the end, and i was correct. viktor bounced from one mindset to another, never seeming to have any consistent ideology of his own that couldn't be changed as soon as the plot demanded it. at any given point he was just kinda... wandering around, doing some random shit with the powers that worked through him. gone was the viktor who used his own hands and mind to influence the world directly, to bend it to his will. i always always felt this and i stand by it - taking viktor's abilities as an inventor and scientist away and turning him into some arcane mage jesus figure was a mistake and a disservice to his character. arcane said no this boy wasn't smart or determined, his ability to build and invent and seek and learn don't matter and never mattered, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and as soon as the arcane got its goop on him he just became the most specialest magic pixie dream boy to ever live and his own goals, dreams, ideals, morals, talents, skills, and hard work ceased to matter in any meaningful way. he never had to work to master magic to be able to use it to further his goals, because he immediately stopped having goals.

viktor became a non-character. he became whatever ideological and technological threat level the show needed to challenge to heroes and never more. he ceased to have any control or understanding over what was happening to him, rather he just gave up and decided to use his magic indiscriminately for whoever made the most convincing argument, a choice that would have been completely antithetical to his character up to that point if he'd still been alive. 'fuck zaunites, sure i'll turn them into robots so a foreign power can use them to attack and take over piltover and zaun, who cares. it's not like these are the people i've spent 30 years of my life trying to protect and save.' <- something viktor would never ever ever have agreed to! ever! no matter what! they have played us for absolute fools.

ambiguity, the loss of

the thing i wanted the most and was expecting because of the way viktor's original lore was set up was that the series would end with viktor and jayce unreconciled and with mutually exclusive worldviews, both fully believing they were right and the other was misguided but not evil or irredeemable, setting them up for future conflict. this felt like what was being set up when arcane made it a plot point that jayce was being convinced to turn hextech into weapons while viktor started getting unethical and unhinged with the experimentation. they both had good reasons to do what they did - and i'm absolutely not going to insult jayce's intelligence by claiming he was just manipulated into it by anyone, give me a fucking break - but the point was that both of them were doing something the other thought was misguided and dangerous. and they also felt that if they could just make the other person see their completely logical and rational pov, they could fix the divide between them and make up and be best science buddies again.

but then at the end arcane completely gave up on viktor having any belief in his own ideals. it just turned into 'aw actually he was just lonely all along and none of that science stuff or difference in morals or worldviews mattered bc he's got a buddy now and he's completely unequivocally on jayce's side. :)'

it was like. insanely selfish. as in, self-centered, concerned *only* with the self. the viktor i liked, and the one i wanted to flourish and hoped arcane would canonize, was someone who was entirely dedicated to zaun, to righting the wrongs of piltover and helping the people in the way he thought best - no matter what jayce or piltover thought about it. an ambiguous villain, just like all the other really well-written ones in arcane.

accountability, the loss of

viktor killed people. not sky, who was an accident despite his fixation on her; i'm talking at least a hundred or more zaunites during his stint as the machine herald. he ripped their minds out and made them play house with him, then turned them into weapons of war for ambessa's siege, and all of those people - primarily sick, desperate zaunites - died. this was always the entire crux of the conflict between (league) viktor and jayce giopara. viktor was willing to destroy people and use their bodies for his own gain unapologetically because he thought what he was doing was a blessing and the people were better off under his control because they would never feel fear or anger again. agree, disagree, depends on your view of free will and human nature, but the fact is that everyone who came to viktor hoping for a chance to be healed so they could pursue their own dreams and lives had those dreams and lives ripped away from them and they never got justice or even a single scrap of acknowledgement from the narrative.

in arcane, the horror of viktor's actions just... fade away into the background. viktor and jayce waltz off into magicspace together, leaving viktor's dead, ruined victims for piltover and zaun to deal with. he doesn't return their minds or bodies, he doesn't even seem to remember or care about what he had just been doing to other sentient living human beings. he's not sorry, he doesn't feel regret, he got what he wanted (a friend) and fuck everybody else.

because the narrative just shrugs and handwaves and says no no forget all that it doesn't matter it was just the hexcore or whatever, viktor becomes a flat, uninteresting character. he loses the depth that villains like ambessa and silco had, villains who had their victims validated by the story, who faced challenges in their arcs specifically because of the people they had hurt despite thinking they were doing the right or noble or most important thing. and not just the villains! even the heroes had to wrestle with the people they stepped on on the way to their lofty goals. but not viktor. he just floats away scot free, completely blameless, having no affect on the world and the world having no affect on him.

on arcane's status as the new canon lore and the Implications™

reminder that arcane is somehow supposed to tie into the world of runeterra at large, but now viktor and jayce both have been seemingly entirely removed from it. if it only mattered that they knew the people we'd already seen them interact with, okay, i guess. but that isn't the case. they both have a ton of connections to other champions - from regions other than p&z even - that haven't been introduced and don't have any plausible explanation for how they could have met in the past, which means they should have been set up to meet somehow in the future. implying that jinx escaped and has gone traveling the world is the perfect way to incorporate her in-game relationships with people like lux - she could have met her while traveling! but jayce and viktor don't get that plausible continuation of their story and development of further relationships - they just disappear out of existence. (ambessa also has this problem because they killed her, but unlike jayce and viktor she does have a huge amount of unexplored backstory where she could have spoken to (for example) swain and hwei and shyvanna at some point.)

note 1 - jayce and viktor are so old that they don't have any voice lines in game when meeting other champions. but other champions who are either newer or who have had voiceover updates do talk to them, which is how (aside from the old lore) you can infer that they do have relationships with other champions including ones who weren't in arcane.

note 2 - maybe riot actually doesn't care and none of the champions are really supposed to know each other or be involved in each others' lives canonically, they just have random quippy voice lines that imply that. which would fucking suck. having the lore of the game have no impact on the game itself and vice versa would objectively suck. if the characters talk to each other on the rift and say something interesting, i want that to have meaning. i want to be able to extrapolate the state of the world and the relationships between the characters from the things they verbally say with their mouths. i'm not arguing about this. the voicelines should be seen as the most high irrefutable canon that there is for the game because it is the ONLY source of lore in the game itself.

anyways there's my bible i guess. i miss evil laser robot viktor i want him to perform unethical brain surgery on me (fixing my adhd but also turning me into his personal puppet attack dog) and then give a weapon to a child so they can kill their bullies.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

New Horizons

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Deaf!Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You were born deaf in a family that can hear. They've adapted to make you feel like part of the family. Spencer met you and learned sign language for you. Now you get a chance to join their world. Will you take it?

Square Filled: deaf au for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

The bacon in the pan on the stove slowly turns crispy brown the longer it sits in the grease. The food smells amazing as does most food. You have a very sensitive nose and acute vision. Spencer likes to quiz you on what he has in his lunch bag without opening it just to see if you can smell what’s in there.

You look to the right and see Spencer pace the length of the living room with his phone to his ear. His mouth moves but no noise comes out of it. The bacon cooks but no noise comes from the sizzling. The coffee machine blinks rapidly to let you know that it’s done brewing but no noise comes from it. Spencer’s face scrunches up in frustration as he becomes more animated on the phone. Man, there’s nothing you wouldn’t give to hear the sound of his voice.

You’ve never heard anything make noise a day in your life. You’re deaf and have been since birth. Your entire family is hearing so you’re not sure where you got your deafness from. Is it even hereditary? Is it just a malfunction? You’re not exactly sure why you’re deaf and none of your family is, but it’s been a wild ride, to say the least.

The natural thing to do as a human is to express your emotions through words, but you can’t do that. Because you’ve never been able to hear, you never got the chance to learn how to speak. You’re an adult and don’t know how to speak. It hurt you sometimes knowing Spencer got to do something you’d never be able to do.

To express how you’re feeling, you took up painting and drawing at a very young age. To experiment with different colors and brushes, to create something to express how you’re feeling felt good. It felt so good that you wanted to provide that to other people who had a hard time expressing through words.

When you got out of college, you started a business of being an art teacher for deaf and hard-of-hearing people. Hearing people can join your class, obviously, but the target audience is people with a hearing disability. It’s gotten more popular over the years, so you have your own studio right down the road from your apartment.

If you’ve learned one thing about being deaf is that you’re not going to let it hinder your life in any way. The same thing goes for your relationship with Spencer.

When you met him, he was passing by your studio and thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world. Truly shining in your element. He learned very quickly that you were deaf but that didn’t stop him from wanting to get to know you. He never had the desire to learn Sign Language until he met you. That night, he studied the language and practiced signing so he would be able to talk to you.

Naturally, he picked the skill up quickly.

He asked you on a date that very next day. It was impressive to know someone who didn’t know a single thing about Sign Language only to come to you the next day and know enough to have a conversation. He didn’t know everything so you helped him where you could; he was being so cute about it.

No one has ever gone through so much trouble just to talk to you. Most people would either write what they want to say or not bother talking to you at all. Not Spencer. He put in the effort. 

That’s how you knew he was the one.

He came by your studio every day until he convinced you that living together was the best thing. He lives pretty close to his job at the BAU but moved in with you which puts an extra thirty minutes on his commute every morning. He gave up living where he was just to be with you because it was easier for you to be close to your studio.

You fell for him and fell hard. Plus, he loves having all of your artwork in the apartment. It’s very colorful and expressive, and that’s how he knows how you feel. He’d never want to put a limit on what you can create, and you’d never want to leave his life dull and colorless.

Your disability has never come between you, but now you have a choice to make. 

Your parents called you yesterday over video chat to tell you they have the money to give you surgery for a cochlear implant… if you want it. You’d finally be able to hear. You’d finally be able to be just like everyone else. It’s not a decision you can make lightly because there is so much weight behind it.

The deaf community has done so much for your life; you love what it stands for. It’s a community that constantly proves itself worthy against a world that thinks so negatively about it. Some of your bestest friends are deaf, and they’re wonderful people. Just because someone can’t hear, doesn’t make them any less of a person.

Taking this surgery feels like a cop-out like you’re just looking for a way to escape the deaf community and take the easy way out. It’s not like that at all. You’d never want to be separated from a culture that is so diverse and so beautiful, but you’d have a shot at being able to hear. It’s something you’d always wanted for yourself even if you couldn’t admit it.

You’d finally be able to hear bacon pop and sizzle. You’d be able to hear your mom laugh at one of your dad’s corny jokes. You’d get to hear Spencer’s voice. How can you accept a surgery like this and not feel like you’re abandoning a culture that cared for you? You’re more than capable of living a happy and successful life without being able to hear but does that mean you should? That you want to?

Spencer gets off the phone and sees you staring into the pan of bacon in thought. He walks over to you and makes sure you can see him instead of sneaking up on you. He doesn’t know how many times he’s approached you without you knowing he was there. You snap out of your own thoughts and look at him.

What’s wrong? He signs.

I can’t stop thinking of what my parents said.

Are you having doubts? You shrug. It doesn't matter if you can hear or not. I fell in love with you and will support you in whatever you want to do.

Damn, you really got lucky to be with a man like Spencer. You take the bacon off the pan and plate it, but you don’t move to eat it.

I know. Thank you.

I have to go to work, but I will see you afterward.

He leans in and kisses you, making it last a few seconds longer than usual. When he pulls away, he smiles at your dazed look. He makes you feel things you never knew a man could make you feel. He mouths, “I love you” and you mouth it right back to him. He leaves the apartment soon after, and you rush over to the small balcony you have that overlooks the busy street below.

Spencer walks away from the apartment and to the nearest bus stop which is at the end of the street. The bus comes ten minutes later and takes him to work, but you don’t leave your spot on the balcony. People bust their asses to get to where they need to go unbeknownst that you’re watching them from above.

There are two mothers by the bus stop who have children with them who look to be crying. They dig through their bags for some food to ease their child’s discomfort. Across the street is a couple that looks to be arguing. You can tell by the angry look on the woman’s face and the desperate look on her partner’s face. Kids play basketball in the park next to the bus stop. People walk their dogs who bark at other dogs they see.

The bustling city below and you have an opportunity to hear all of it.

If you’re going to get the surgery, you want it for yourself and no one else. You don’t want to be doing this for anyone but yourself. You want to be able to hear and listen to movies instead of reading them. You want to be able to listen to music instead of feeling them. You want to be able to listen to Spencer when he talks instead of reading his hands.

So, you get it. You get the surgery.

When you wake up, your whole family is waiting for you in your hospital room. Your head is in major pain from where they cut into you to place the cochlear implant. There is a device that will stick to the side of your head like a magnet that will communicate to the implant in your head so that you can hear the world around you.

The doctor comes in with the device and explains to you that once he places it on, he’ll calibrate it and turn it on. Your entire family is silent as he does this because they don’t want to bombard you with noise after living a life of no noise. Your mom looks at the doctor who nods as soon as the device is turned on.

The first thing you hear is the ticking of the machine next to you. The next thing you hear is the fluorescent bulbs in the lights above buzzing. Everything is heightened after never having the sense. Your mother steps forward and grabs your hands with a smile on her face.

“Can you hear me?” she asks.

You don’t understand what she is saying but hearing her voice for the first time brings tears rolling down your cheeks. She lets go of your hands and signs at the same time she talks so you at least know what she’s saying.

“Can you hear me?” You nod eagerly. She then signs your name. “Your name is Y/N.”

This is so overwhelming for you. Your body has never felt this high before. Your family takes turns signing and speaking to you, and you never stop crying once. Your mom laughs and you look at her with all the love in the world. Her laugh is so beautiful.

“Do you want to see Spencer?” your mom asks and signs at the same time.

You nod eagerly and she steps into the hallway to bring him in. He’s kind of nervous. What if you don’t like his voice? What if you hate it? What if you only love him because he never talked? You can practically see the thoughts he’s having so you reach out for him. Your family shuffles out of the room to give you two some alone time while they talk to the doctor in the hallway. He takes your hand and rubs the back of it with his thumb.

Speak to me, you sign.

“Can you hear me?” he signs and asks. A new wave of tears comes rushing out. Fuck, his voice is so beautiful. “My name is Spencer.”

Your voice sounds like a sunset, you sign with a teary smile.

“I love you,” he signs and says.

Wow, so that’s what that sounds like.

I love you, you sign back.

You’re ready to start this next chapter of your life with Spencer by your side.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[bandtrees]

this has always been one of my favorite lines in this scene it’s so striking to me. i think debating over callum’s level of lucidity and what can or cannot “fix” him is deeply antithecal to what the story is trying to express with him - but the idea that callum is still there and still a person who does have the capacity to love mingus, just not in a way she can ever comprehend or accept, because she can't comprehend or accept anything outside her narrow worldview, is sooooo good.

there is no way of actually knowing if callum is proud of mingus, much less recognizes her at all - but it's added to by the fact there's only so much of that she would accept even if he could. ultimately, she wants validation and power, his prestige, from him, she wants a supportive parental figure she never had - there's only so much of that callum is able to provide even in a world where her stint to fix his memory actually worked. he's like a hundred. he never even MET her. to say nothing of all he's missed in the past fifty-odd years. to say nothing of how his age may have messed with his mind deteriorating even without the pre-existing brain damage.

and mingus' phrasing here implies he doesn't even look at her when she visits - which brings me to the visit that radicalized her: the one after her surgery, where he was watching gingi out the window.

obviously, callum watching gingi is mostly for the thematics of it all, how similar the two of them are in ways mingus refuses to recognize, but theres also the thought of... callum's been sitting alone in that room for over half his life, barely lucid if at all. of course he's going to be drawn to a brightly-colored thing making noises and knocking stuff over outside. if he can't respond to stimuli of the people around him he's at the very least going to latch onto something more visually interesting than Brown Wall and Brown Figure.

but it's not like mingus can think of it like that, because she's internalized so much about her grandfather and built up such a specific, personalized vision of him - she doesn't see him as an elderly man with (a fictional equivalent to) dementia, she sees him as President Callum Crown™, the man she personally has to please and live up to the legacy of and make proud, disregarding the fact that's not something he has the mental capacity to even do - because she's so obsessed with validation and complete control that the only way she can get it is by either subjugating others and forcing it out of them (what she does with her townsfolk), or just completely projecting on someone who, for her purposes, is basically a blank slate.

which is maddening to her in its own way, see how crazy she drives herself trying to restore callum's memory in the first place - but also, would she be happy even if callum could see her for who she is? post-game, when she's working on herself, that's an irrelevant question as she's pushed past that need, but as we know her? absolutely not.

i love the ch3 standoff between norm and mingus as a show of "Okay guys let’s see who can dehumanize this disabled guy harder (via pedestal-putting) and justify themselves for it better" and why i think it is so important that it’s gingi who reads the postcard and ultimately speaks for callum instead of either of them, or even the narrator. they can’t read, and they struggle to, but they manage to get it right even when people are telling them to stop. and the fact they’re able to do it at all, are given the chance to do so, and are ultimately the one to wind down this conflict shows that the world of dialtown, while not perfect, really is how callum would have wanted it.

both gingi and callum are some of the most altruistic and human characters ever, and the crux of their parallels is that they are denied this by close-minded people because they happen to Behave Strangely. it's why seeing mingus act the way she does hits so hard - she loves her paw-paw, yes, but if she were to see him in a vacuum, a one-limbed man who can hardly think, much less speak for himself: or even his younger self, who was struggling to make ends meet with his odd inventions...

...well, the feeling norm's imagining here would probably be mutual. mingus' relationship with bigotry is a very fascinating one, she's very close-minded but views certain oddities (ie her flesh-head) as having earned their place and thus being fine - she's a freak too, by her own admission, but she's doing it for a just and wider purpose, so it's fine. which is, ironically, the ideology callum forced upon himself.

callum was obsessed with helping people, pushing himself to do more and more, because it was the only way he ever found respect. if he didn't help people and have grand visions for the world and make himself "useful" to society at large, then what would he be, if not a freak?

mingus and her paw-paw are very similar people, from their well-intentioned extremism, to their stubbornness and paranoia, to their inability to view themselves as anything more than a vessel for that grand cause they believe in (callum in the dialup, mingus in restoring her paw-paw's memory) - which is funny, because if mingus was able to view callum, and herself, as a flawed human person, she would come to understand how similar they really are.

:(

[androdragynous]

I know i complained about the stardew valley penny and George cutscene at length but the it really is fucking. bizarre the lengths people will go to defend it because "the game lets you pick to side with him" (please do literally any reading about wheelchair use and realize why it's a problem that the game rewards you for moving someone without their consent.) or variants of that sentiment but then it's like. the rest of the cutscene is also So Weird

Like. Penny moves an old man in a wheelchair without asking him. He gets upset, she asks if you saw what happened The game prompts you to select from;

"I was. You did a kind thing there, Penny." (+50 friendship with Penny)

"I was. You should've asked instead of assuming George wanted help." (-50 friendship with Penny)

"I'm just taking a walk, minding my own business." (No effect on friendship.)

And these are the REVISED options. Before 1.4, the second option wasn't"you should have asked", it was "You should've left him alone. Now he's grumpy."

So already it's kind of shit. The person she's upset - who's entire existence in the game is experiencing inaccessibility, let's be real - because he was shoved without permission just for being in a wheelchair doesn't have his friendship level affected at all.

Regardless of which answer you pick, George apologizes (Penny does not apologize in every choice! But the guy she shoved does!) and says she was kind.

Once he's gone, she talks about how hard it must be to be old. It's worth noting, for what it's worth, that George has been using a wheelchair since a mining accident caused his immobility; it's not a result of age, and you learn about this whole he struggles with a bookshelf in his own home, where presumably he has been living with a wheelchair for at least two decades (given how he talks about his grandson), which is a whole different can of worms because why is this never addressed in a fictional community with multiple craftspeople who frequently do projects for each other?

Anyways. So Penny's like, damn, sucks that he's old. And the options the game gives you - all neutral in terms of friendship points - are:

"I'd rather not think about it."

"It's just a different part of life."

"That's why we should respect our elders."

"I'd rather die young..."

Like are you kidding me? You have a cutscene that's about being disabled - it's not about aging, because his disability was not caused by aging, it is explicitly and directly about the fact that he is in a wheelchair. And the game assumes your opinions will be "Not my problem,", "That's an old people thing,", and "I'D RATHER BE DEAD"? And this is something people just... don't remark on? Even in conversations ABOUT this cutscene? Like, George's mentions of being disabled are already Constantly Miserable -able-bodied writer standard quality - but the game is just like. Yeah you can say you'd rather be dead rather than express any positive sentiment about this guy surviving a traumatic mining accident. You can't say it's great that he's able to still be a part of the community in his chair, or renovate his house to make it accessible the way you can build ENTIRE HOMES for other characters. The community center you rebuild in the Good Ending for the community is only accessible by stairs. The path out of his home is dirt. It's the little things, y'know, like... obviously he wasn't thought about as his own character. The game's writing sees him as a source of conflict for others, and down to the very tiles of the terrain, he's irrelevant.

AND THEN THE TOWN DOCTOR DOES A HIPAA VIOLATION AND GETS SAD IF YOU SAY GEORGE SHOULD HAVE AGENCY OVER HIS OWN BODY. WHAT ARE WE FUCKING DOING HERE

[taisho-era-secrets]

Don't look at me as I fumble some quick Rengoku fluff out of my pocket as I trip and fall. Listen, I've been a little sad lately (just a little, just a little) and Rengoku keeps me going. I also don't know if this has been done before or not but I'm still tossing it out here.

CW: Talks of disability, hard of hearing Rengoku. This is a sfw fic, savor it while you can. We're going right back to business after this.

It all came to a still - the hustle and bustle of the day, the work, the errands. The seemingly nonstop chaos always comes to a still at the end of the day as you lace your fingers in with his. The nightly ritual of just connecting was something that you both looked forward to, but as you lay here you couldn't help but feel this twinge that something was... off. Something was a little different this time around and it wasn't welcomed, sending ripples into the oasis that you had so desperately looked forward to.

Your cheeks rubbed against his chest as you looked up at him and noticed his gaze burning a hole into the ceiling, brows pinched together, deep in thought.

He was never really good at hiding his emotions.

"Kyojuro?"

"Hm?"

Blinking back into reality, he tilted his head intently towards you, locks of hair draping and bunching around his face. He tried to beam brightly at you like he normally does. But again, he was never really good at hiding his emotions. Your lips pursed, letting him know that you knew something was up.

He was caught. And he knew it.

"My apologies, I just..."

His fingers wove into yours tighter as they rested intertwined atop his stomach. You could hear the anxious thump of his heart as the fire in his eyes simmered to a calm ember and his muscles relaxed just slightly. Then those eyes wandered away, avoiding your concerned gaze as you could see the cogs in his head start to return back to his previous thoughts.

"Earlier... When we were making dinner, you said something to me... and I couldn't quite hear it," his voice was softer than normal as he recalled the event to you.

"Please don't mistake my concern, I'm not upset at you by any means, but..."

His lips pinched together for a moment as you could read the pain in his tone.

"It dawned on me," his voice started to waver a bit. "You already know that my sense of hearing is... not the greatest. I can hear you when you're close to me like this."

His hand brought yours up closer as his lips brushed against your knuckles. That worried look on his face grew stronger as if he was done fighting himself and had decided to sink into the abyss of his thoughts.

"I'm worried at the possibility that I may not be able to hear you at all one day."

You sank back down into his warm chest. It wasn't something that ever really crossed your mind before, but you could tell this thought wasn't something that just suddenly popped into his mind. It was something that was formed gradually over time from his insecurity.

"Not being able to hear your voice is... a devastating thought. The thought of my body eventually betraying me like that as I grow older is alarming."

You were at a loss for words for a moment; There was rarely a time that Kyojuro showed that anything was getting to him like this. He was usually able to power through his concerns, dismissing them as a waste of worries, but this one seemed to have festered for a while. That same fear he expressed was seeping into you as well. What if there was a day you knew that he couldn't hear you tell him how much he meant to you? How much you loved him?

Then it hit you.

"Kyojuro..."

His eyes came back to you like the rays of sunlight peaking through the storm. You untangled your fingers and lifted his hand close to you. The puzzled look he gave you as you pressed his fingers firmly against your vocal cords made you smile.

"You can feel this, right?"

His expression softened, a smile slowly tugging on the edges of his mouth as his fingers caressed your neck.

"Yes."

"You can feel this just as much as you can feel my love for you, and that's something that can't be taken away with time," when those words fell out of your mouth, you could see the realization hit him.

And there he was again, slowly coming back to his usual self as a chuckle bubbled out from his chest. There was a silent realization that he was rubbing off on you with his motivational speeches, but that couldn't possibly be a bad thing.

"That's very true," he smiled so brightly, the dewy wetness of his narrowed eyes sparkling. "I don't know what the future may hold, but at least I know that... and I can keep that close to me in my heart forever."

[taintandviolent]

A Real Man ; Jimmy Darling x reader

summary: Reader is a married to a chump. A real chump who doesn't know what he's got and as far as Jimmy Darling is concerned, reader needs to be treated right for once.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 3.6k! | married female reader, infidelity, brief usage of Y/N, judgemental language, fingering, dry humping, arousal, kissing/making out, slight angst with the fact that Jimmy can't keep every woman he meets.

a/n: requested by @babygorewhore! this was supposed to be a drabble, but it turned into a 3K fic. sorry, sorry, sorry! as always, sorry if this is horrible!!!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

Jimmy peeked through the gap in the curtain -- it was almost a full house. Good. Elsa would be pleased, and when she was pleased, she was less likely to nitpick; something that all of the troupe tried to avoid.

His dark eyes spotted you heading towards the front, a giddy skip in your step. Your beauty took his breath away; he was almost disappointed to see a man following close behind you as you searched for a place to sit. Judging by your body language, Jimmy could tell you were excited. A small smile crawled across his lips as he watched you. He loved when pretty girls were excited for the show – made his performance that much better. You briefly made eye contact, and a small, shy smile curved around your red lips. Jimmy looked to the front row, and you followed his gaze. Your eyes lit up and you turned to your husband, pointing in the direction of the front.

"Let's sit -- ow!"

Roger gripped your bicep, yanking you hard backwards, away from the decision you'd made. Jimmy furrowed his brow and squared his shoulders, ready to put a man in his place if he had to. His fists balled up into fleshy wads; he didn’t like what he was seeing. Ain’t no reason for a woman to be treated like that…  

"I don't want us sitting too close to them. Might catch something." he snarled, towing you towards some empty wooden chairs in the third row. A horrible sensation roiled in your stomach, making you nauseous. Suddenly ashamed to even be with a man with that kind of mindset, you couldn't help but scowl at your husband's sour opinion. Embarrassed, you kept your gaze away from the man behind the curtain, hoping he hadn't seen or heard any of that.

"Roger," you said softly, reprimanding him in the nicest way you could. "They aren't sick, they're just different."

A hush fell over the crowd as you settled into your seats and a bearded woman came out, welcoming everyone to the show. Much to your dismay, your husband was immediately disgusted and continued making snide comments under his breath.

Not brave enough to say it aloud , you thought. Coward.

As the show got started, it was easy to forget about Roger's little comments. You happily engulfed yourself in the wonderful acts that they put on, particularly delighted by all the musical performances. Not only were they putting their disabilities and differences on display for the world to see and judge – which was admirable in and of itself – but they were genuinely a very talented troupe.

After the show ended, Roger, who had scowled and crossed his arms the entire time, was the first to exit, shoving his way past people, muttering angrily as he did. Apologizing to the offended individuals he left in his wake, you ducked underneath the tent flap, heading after him.

"Makes me sick, that was a waste of time. Freaks like that oughta' be put outta' their misery."

You clenched your teeth, pressing your purse tightly to your abdomen as you walked. You'd just about had it with his disparaging commentary, and that comment was the final straw. Taking a deep breath, you dug your heels into the dirt, stopping yourself. "How DARE you!"

"Excuse me?!" Roger spun around, his expression a terrifying mixture of anger and surprise. He'd never heard you yell like that. It made him angrier than he was before, and he charged at you like an animal, ready to strike.

You righted yourself, standing your ground. In reality, there was nothing to be gained from defending these people, but something in your stomach told you that you had to. You narrowed your eyes as you continued, taking one step away from him.

"They're people too, just like you and me!" Your voice was shrill and determined.

"No! They ain't!" He stuck his finger in your face, nearly jabbing it into your nose. Roger's rebuttal was filled with so much venom, it made you reel back with a gasp. He'd always been an abrasive sort, but this wasn't the man you married.

Jimmy and Paul were helping move some of the set pieces off the stage when Del abruptly straightened up, cocking an ear towards the entrance. The hollering continued, and could be heard from inside the tent. “You hear that?” 

“Sure do,” Paul said. Jimmy nodded in agreement. A couple arguing was never a good sign, and usually something that needed to be dealt with quickly. Jimmy’s heart sank; he had a pretty good idea of who it was. They all hurried towards the entrance, and as soon as Jimmy lifted the flap of the tent, he spotted you.

You stamped your foot, causing a cloud of dust to float up around your heels. "That's a wretched thing to say, and you know it! You're being so hateful, Roger!"

He gestured to the men behind you as they approached. "Well, if you're so fond of 'em, maybe you oughta' run away and join 'em! Suits me just fine!"

And with that, he stomped off, headed towards the car. With anxiety bubbling up your throat, you ran after him, calling his name. He either didn't hear you or didn't care, because he didn't turn around. You suspected it was the latter.

As the car lurched forward onto the road, the engine revved and the tires spun, spitting gravel and dust back at you. For a moment, you ran down the dirt pathway, trying to catch up to him. It was futile, but the humiliation drove you forward. You couldn't even look back at the men, unsure if they had seen everything.

You'd made it out onto the main road, but Roger's car was out of view. Out of breath, you finally stopped, huffing a defeated breath. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision. What were you to do? You looked down the road, there were some buildings up ahead. Surely, one of them had a phone. As much as it hurt your ego, you knew the only option was to walk and call Roger at home, and apologize for whatever you'd done.

Back at the field, Jimmy was fuming. He'd seen you take off, running after the car desperately, and watched as the distance between you two grew.

“I’ll get her,” he volunteered, already jogging off towards his bike. Del scoffed, unsurprised and rolled his eyes. Of course Jimmy would be the one to go find her.

As he headed for his trailer, Jimmy's temper flared. He resented the way that your boyfriend, husband, whoever he was, had shucked you off like you were nothing. Not to mention, the way he'd treated you in the show, right in front of everyone. That wasn’t right. And he wasn’t gonna’ stand for it. Part of him hoped that he'd get the chance to talk to this Roger fellow.

With tears streaming down your rouged cheeks, you ambled down the road, heading in the direction that he'd gone. Your husband had never done anything like that before, and you weren’t sure what to do next. He’d left you stranded. All because you’d opened your big, sympathetic mouth and tried to defend the freaks from his senseless hate. You'd only just gotten to the top of the hill when you heard the low rumble of an engine slowing behind you. Great. Just what you needed - someone to harass you further.

“Hey, sweetheart. You alright?” Jimmy raised his voice over the growl of his motorcycle. Despite that, there was genuine concern in his voice as he crept closer to you, approaching you apprehensively like he would a scared animal.  

Turning your head to meet the voice, you swallowed back a sob, and straightened up, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand. “Y-yes, I'm just fine, thank you.”

Jimmy was next to you now, and you got a good look at his face. It was the man from the show, the one that you'd seen peeking out from behind the curtains. The Lobster Boy. You stopped walking, and his bike rolled to a stop next to you.

"You sure about that?" He asked, leaning forward on the handlebars.

You looked over at him, your lower lip trembling like a child. He just had to show you some kindness, some warmth in that moment, and that, regrettably, brought the tears back. They spilled over your cheeks, flowing freely. Jimmy reached forward and swept his gloved thumb over your cheek, wicking away the tears that tumbled over. “Baby, baby… you’re too pretty to cry that way, you know that?” 

You sniffled pitifully. Bright, wet eyes lifted from the road to his suntanned face. He was so warm, so sweet… like some fresh cotton candy from the stand by the ferris wheel. The wind rustled through the bright, green leaves and you heaved a sigh.

“It’s just that my husband… he-he...” You sniffled loudly, and wiped another set of tears away.

“Hey-hey. Shh. It’s okay, dollface. I saw what happened back there. You don't gotta' relive it. Tell you what. Why don't you hop on?"

"Oh, no I couldn't... I... should get home."

Jimmy shook his head lightly, knowing that home was the last place you wanted to be.

"Sweetheart, what's your name?"

"Y/N..." you said quietly.

"Y/N, listen. It ain't right for a man to leave a woman like that..."

You knew it. Roger hadn't been right that entire afternoon, from the comments to him leaving you. He'd been out of line the entire time, and it infuriated you, doubled you up in anger, though you didn’t show. "Mr. Darling," You started, recalling his name from the show.

"Jimmy." He interjected.

"Jimmy," you started again, chewing on the corner of your lip. "I appreciate the offer, but I just... I can't..."

"Sure you can." His voice was low and sweet, like honey as it filled your ears. "Does he take care of you?"

Taken aback by the question, you furrowed your brows, silently asking what he meant. Jimmy cleared his throat and straightened up on his bike, casually brushing something from the thigh of his jeans.

"What I mean is, does he treat you right? Take care of your needs...?"

You swallowed hard, averting your gaze. That was all the confirmation he needed. Jimmy kicked down the stand of his bike, and got off of it, closing in the distance between the two of you.

“Babydoll,” Jimmy started, leaning closer to you. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed, his eyes sweeping over your face. You were unbelievable, one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen – and he’d seen some. The closeness had his heart thumping and his groin flushed with heat. He hadn't intended for this, but something about the way you looked up at him with those big, ol' pretty eyes had his head spinning.

Jimmy lifted your chin with his knuckle. "Get on my bike, and lemme' show you how a real man treats a woman."

Oh, live a little, you thought. Your husband was nowhere to be found, and he was the one who had left you. Whatever repercussions occurred because of that were out of your control. It was decided. Adjusting your purse on your shoulder, you stepped to Jimmy's bike, and carefully got on. Jimmy joined you with a proud smile, and revved the engine.

Looking both ways, Jimmy made a wide turn, getting you both pointed back in the direction of the tents. The wind whistled through your hair, locks fluttering behind you. You squeezed Jimmy's torso tighter as he sped up, heading back down the road. He smelled like cotton, sweat and sun. You nuzzled your face into his back, living in the moment. Jimmy smiled, knowingly.

The ride was short, but exhilarating. You'd never ridden on a motorcycle, and the memory was something you'd cherish. You held onto his broad, toned shoulders, steadying yourself as he pulled into the field; the bumps of the dirt road jostling you about. He pulled up behind his caravan, killed the engine and hopped off. He grinned brightly at you, his large, gloved hands reaching for your waist. "C'mon, off you go." 

He lifted you carefully off the bike as you swung your leg over the seat. Your heel caught on the edge, sending you stumbling into his arms. The closeness was abrupt, but very welcome. Your breath hitched in your throat. 

"Easy - you alright?" 

"Just clumsy," you murmured, putting enough distance between your bodies to smooth out the skirt of your dress.

With one hand, Jimmy guided you up the small steps of his trailer, holding the door open for you.

A flash of worry crossed his face as he took off his gloves, setting them on the kitchen counter. He saw your eyes dart down to his hands, scanning over the fleshy, conjoined digits, but there was a hint of intrigue in your eyes - you weren't put off. That was enough for him to make a move.

"C'mere, baby. Let me take care of you."

Without another word, Jimmy wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you into his chest. His lips connected with yours in a warm kiss - warm like the summer sun. Everything about him was intoxicating and you were drunk on him, lust-blown and wanting more. Boldly, his fingers closed around the zipper pull of your dress and pulled it carefully down your back, pressing his lips against your shoulder as he slid the sleeve down. His fingertips trailed softly down your spine, sending a chill through your body. He guided the dress off your body, allowing it to fall to your feet. You stepped out of the circle of fabric, and wrapped your arms around his neck. With strong, passionate kisses, he walked you backwards through the trailer, carefully navigating you to the back portion where the bedroom was. You were thankful he was in control, because you felt yourself wobble, dizzy with lust. The back of your legs finally hit the edge of the mattress, and Jimmy guided you backwards, until you were laying flat. 

Perched at the end of his bed, he reached forward to touch you. You bit your lip, looking shy and unsure. You’d never been in your lingerie in front of any other man besides your husband, and your heart thudded against your ribcage at the thought of what you were about to experience.  Jimmy's large, warm hands explored your flesh, covering every exposed inch in gentle, persuasive touches. You'd already wordlessly agreed to whatever he was doing, but every touch pushed you further over that edge, turning you into putty in his hands. You exhaled a shaky breath, watching him as he worked. His fingers swept past your ankles, up your calves and finally over the curve of your knees, where he gently spread them apart.

"My husband never does this..." You cooed, nervously. You weren't sure how to act, but you hoped natural instinct would kick in soon.

"I know." was all Jimmy said before dipping his head between your legs. He pressed kisses along your inner thighs, nearing your aching center. The closer he got, the more you writhed in his grip. Pressing a single kiss against your stomach, his teeth grazed your tummy as he took the elastic waistband of your panties between his teeth, pulling them down. His fingers met halfway, and pulled them to your ankles, where he tenderly guided your feet out of the holes.

You were on full display now and your tummy clenched. Perhaps she clenched too, because Jimmy swallowed back a deep groan, his eyes rolling back slightly. The sight of a woman, wet and waiting for him, never got old. Ever. Jimmy crawled up onto the bed, positioning himself at your side. His cock ached desperately, twitching to life, but it wasn't about him. Your pleasure was the focus, and he could wait. With all his experience at Tupperware parties, he'd gotten real good at keeping his arousal at bay until he was alone.

Above you, Jimmy’s brown eyes searched your face, flashing you a bright smile."You alright, baby?"

You nodded, spreading your legs slightly. One of his hands trailed along your stomach, softly caressing the skin as he made his way down. Breath hitching in your throat again, you unintentionally arched your back up into his touch. His fingertips met your core, and his thumb swept over your folds, spreading them gently. He explored them sweetly, taking his time to play with the slickness that met him.

"You like that?" 

You mewled in response, eyes rolling back in your head. 

"C'mon, lemme hear you... nothin' to be embarrassed of here." 

No words came out, but a pleading, satisfied moan tumbled off your lips. You thought his act was singing and showing off his claws -- not reading minds. You were never loud with your husband; he found it obnoxious when women were too loud.

With that, Jimmy slipped into you slowly, taking his time to breach your entrance.You gasped, eyes wide and glued to the ceiling. You gripped his arms, steadying yourself as you adjusted, widening your legs a little more. The girth of his fingers stunned you, you'd never felt so full, even with your husband. They immediately curved up to hit the spongy, sensitive flesh, massaging it while his thumb circled your clit.

He may have conditioned himself into not pleasuring himself while he was giving his all to a woman, but your wanton moans and whimpers... hell... you were makin' it so hard . He clenched his jaw, watching you as your sweet, lush hips rolled back and forth to meet his fingers each time he withdrew them.

Each breath was a moan, and you couldn't stop them, the euphoria that you felt was too much. You were a perfect picture of arousal; cheeks flushed, hair mussed up and flayed out on his pillowcase, back arched, and hips undulating to meet his touch. Jimmy was used to women during pleasure, but something about the way you whimpered his name had gotten him worked up.

His cock was rock hard, tenting against his old, softened jeans. Jimmy ground his hips once against your hip, forcing friction and testing your reaction. The slick wet spot on his boxers shifted, and he let loose a throaty, low sound. He couldn't take it anymore.

Thankfully, you let out a pleased sound of surprise, and whispered: "Do that again..."

You begged him for more, your nails leaving crescent moon shaped indentations on his biceps. The way he touched you was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, and certainly nothing that your husband had ever done for you. Jimmy pushed his fingers deeper, thrusting them in and out and coating them with your slick.

Jimmy groaned, your candy-sweet voice filled his ears and his caravan. His hips rutted against you again, finding a pleasurable rhythm that stroked his shaft as he moved. He would've given anything to have been inside you. He fucked you faster, and your tight, warm cunt squeezed around his fingers. His hips jerked abruptly, pressing his cock hard into your side. The sensations were too much, you couldn’t hold back any longer. 

"Jimmy, I'm gonna'... I feel like I'm.... oh god."

Your legs tensed and then began quivering as your orgasm washed over you, your jaw dropping in a high-pitched moan. You pulsed around his fingers as you came, saying his name over and over again.

Jimmy felt the tightness of his own orgasm approaching, withdrew his fingers, and climbed on top of you, hurriedly. With one hand, he undid his jeans and pulled his throbbing cock free from his boxers. “Sorry, baby… I need to feel you.” The fat, scarlet tip leaked pre-cum onto you as he ground it against your cunt, slipping in between the warm folds. You dropped your head against the pillow again, whimpering at how sensitive you’d become – the friction of his cock on your clit was making you see stars. Jimmy’s hips lost their rhythm abruptly, stuttering as he emptied himself all over your stomach, white ropes of cum decorating the soft flesh.

After taking his undershirt off to clean up the mess he’d made, Jimmy laid with you, stroking your collarbone tenderly. You fell asleep on his small bed, wrapping yourself in the warm cotton sheets. As your lids drifted shut, you thought not of Roger, but of cotton candy, warm and melting on your tongue where the taste of Jimmy Darling still lingered.

~

The sun was setting when Jimmy finally emerged from his trailer, wearing a button down shirt and jeans. As he headed back towards the main tent, someone called his name.

"Jimmy," Eve sighed, leaning against the side of her caravan. "You can't keep breaking hearts like that."

Pausing, Jimmy shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged her statement off. "Who said I broke her heart? That girl needed to know what it felt like."

Eve knew what he meant and in a way, Jimmy was doing these women a service. He was treating them how they all ought to be treated, and she couldn't argue with that. She stepped down onto the grass, closing in the distance between them.

"We're leaving in a week, sweetheart. You know you're going to have to take her home tomorrow." Eve felt like a mother telling her kid that they couldn't keep an animal they'd found. She frowned slightly, reaching out to squeeze Jimmy's shoulder.

"Yeah... yeah, I know."

He chuckled, exhaling through his nose, his gaze falling. He liberated women. Sure, maybe a few tears were shed, a couple marriages shattered in the process, but you can't make an omelette without cracking a few eggs. Jimmy showed women how they were supposed to be treated, how they were supposed to feel every night and once they got the Lobster Boy special, they never settled again. He hoped you wouldn't, either.

You deserved that.

[screeching-bunny]

Yandere! General Hcs

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

🌟 Yandere! General is very controlling and likes order. He has a specific way of doing things and doesn’t like seeing things out of line. Will be very demanding and forceful things don’t go his way.

🌟 Yandere! General who is insanely scary when pissed off. He basically triggers everyone’s fight or flight response no matter who they are. Can easily break every bone in someone’s body if he really wanted to or was pissed off enough.

🌟 Yandere! General has many scars on his body due to his many battles in war. He enjoys it when you run your fingers down on them. His battle scars are extremely thick and run all over his body. They symbolize his strength and resilience.

🌟 Yandere! General would write the world's most romantic letter to you everyday while he’s out at war. He feels guilty for leaving you alone and wants to finish the battle as quickly as possible just to get back to you. Every minute apart from you is torture and would always carry a picture of you in his uniform chest pocket.

🌟 Yandere! General gives you the juiciest French kisses when leaves or returns from war. He expresses his emotions mostly through action and rarely verbally expresses himself. Will also bring back jewels and clothes for you once he gets back.

🌟 Yandere! General met you at a banquet hosted by a member of the royal family. You were an aristocrat and he couldn’t help but be enthralled by you once you introduced yourself to him. He spent the entire night by your side getting to know you and currying your favor.

🌟 Yandere! General on the next day is meeting with your parents to demand for your hand in marriage. They most likely will say yes due to his high social standing and his incredible wealth. However, if they say no he won’t hesitate to kill your parents or use any form of intimidation to make it happen. Would kill a suitor he’s most threatened by and chop their head off. Then mail them to other suitors as a warning sign for them to stay away from you.

🌟 Yandere! General would betray his country and kill all the royal family members in a heartbeat if you wanted him to. Although he has a cold exterior and aggressive way of dealing with you, your wants are what he chooses to prioritize. Don’t ask too much out of him all the time though, if he feels as if your being to demanding he may spank you.

🌟 Yandere! General is incredibly hard to run away from. If you somehow manage to do so, he’ll use his position to scour the entire world until he gets his hands on you again. When he manages to do so, he’ll permanently break your legs and disabling you. This would cause you to rely on him for everything and he lives for that. You can scorn him all you want but in his mind you deserved it.

🌟 Yandere! General grew up as an only child. His mother died when he was young due to a sickness and was left with his father. Killed his father with his own bare hands which caused rumors to swell that he is a savage. Nobody knows why he did it but no one is willing to ask why due to their fear of him.

🌟 Yandere! General was forced to join the army as a child soldier in order to survive and make a living. Climbed up the ranks and is now the most respected man in the military. Over time he’s hardened a lot and the sight of blood does not bother him, in fact it excites him. The thrill of a dangerous battle gets his adrenaline going and wanting to smash someone’s brains in.

🌟 Yandere! General loves it when you read a book to him while he cuddles with you. It’s the peaceful times that he yearns for the most. Being out in war all the time and having to fight battles since a young age really traumatized him. A change in scenery is really like a breath of fresh air. He can only really feel at serenity when you’re in his arms.

🌟 Yandere! General has a very unique and strange sense of humor. He likes to make a lot of pun jokes which most of the time leave the room just silent. Thinks that he is extremely hilarious and gets proud of his jokes. When he tells a joke to you, you usually just ignore him but he will keep repeating that joke until he gets a reaction out of you. Usually it’s a pity laugh or a really tiny awkward chuckle.

🌟 Yandere! General keeps weapons hidden from you. Does not trust you enough to handle them and doesn’t like you holding them. Why would you need them when he can protect you himself? Won’t allow you to learn how to properly use weapons because he believes that it isn’t needed with him around.

🌟 Yandere! General is very strict with you. He doesn’t like seeing you do things that he deems as “out of line” such as escaping. Has a daily routine that he likes for you to follow and won’t hesitate to demoralize you if you don’t. Although he can be very mean to you at times that doesn’t mean he’ll allow others to do the same. If he ever sees a maid bullying you, he’d gladly hang them in the middle of the city for everyone to see.

🌟 Yandere! General has so much power that at times, not even the royal family can stop him. He’s very influential and the only thing they can do is look at him in horror. Many successors in line for the crown will try to curry his favor in order to stabilize their position as the next ruler. His say is the most powerful out of all the noblemen combined. Absolutely no one can compete with him.

🌟 Yandere! General is very tall and extremely muscular all around. He’s the most well built person you’ll ever meet. His boobs are probably bigger than yours. Is as hard as a rock, if you ever tried to punch him you’re fist would probably break and is easily one of the most strongest people in the world.

🌟 Yandere! General isn’t as book smart as he’d like to be. It’s not surprising because for most of his childhood he’s been in the military. Most of his learning came from trying to understand important documents and make sense of them as a child. He loves to learn though and is willing to learn your native language if you have one.

🌟 Yandere! General has a lot of pent up stress due to paperwork he needs to complete. He lives to put you on his lap while he does his work in his office. Having you there just gives him delight and encourages him to complete his work faster. These days are very slow days to him and time just seems to drag on.

🌟 Yandere! General makes sure that you’re well taken care of and loves putting collars or chokers on you, it's just another sign that you belong to him. Don’t ever try resisting him because it just never goes too well for you. Just give up there’s nothing you can do.

Pt. 2

[notjustjavierpena]

Buzzing

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Hiya! We are not talking about the fact that remote controlled vibrators were probably not a big thing in the late 80s or early 90s. Imagine they were for the sake of the plot. Enjoy!

Summary: Orgasming! At The Grocery Store. Need I say more?

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (minors DNI), remote controlled sex toys (under clothing), semi-public sex, voyeurism, established relationship, filthy dirty talk, unprotected P in V sex, creampie, overstimulation, aftercare, rough sex.

Word count: 4.6k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47656051

Buzzing

The idea of a remote controlled vibrator had been a joke at first, something stupid about Javier making you hump the nearest object in public, but seeing it in its little box made something stir in the pits of your stomach. It wasn’t anything special in terms of looks; just a thin, silver and simple bullet. Though you knew what kind of power that it could hold over you despite its limited size, and more importantly how powerful Javier would be with its controller in hand. The thought had almost made you dizzy back then, your heartbeat drowning out background noise from how loud it was in your ears.

And it was making you dizzy now.

The automatic doors to the store slid open for you and your boyfriend, who was pushing a shopping cart with a neutral expression despite the risky secret being held between the two of you. It was new territory for you to do stuff in public, but it was territory that you were comfortable exploring with Javier.

Underneath your floral dress, neatly tucked into your white cotton panties, the silver bullet was buzzing silently against your sex. The tip was securely pressed against your clit, sometimes sending a spike of pleasure to your cunt when you took a step forward in just the right way. God, you could imagine how great it must feel to press your thighs together or even cross your legs.

It wasn’t visible on your face, but only because the tingling sensation was at its lowest and you had gotten used to the feeling on your way here in your shared car.

Despite not having the need to make any noises or faces to reveal yourself to the world, the sweet buzz had the back of your neck warming up with a blush, even with your hair in a ponytail. Your dress felt claustrophobic, clinging to your skin when you walked, and your nipples were incredibly hard and sensitive underneath the fabric. You tried blaming it on the air conditioning and the refrigerated area, which you hadn’t even passed through yet.

“You’re not fooling me,” you jumped a little at Javier’s voice. He was looking straight ahead, steering the shopping cart around the store with an incredible sense of restraint. After all, his body would give away his aroused state in a much rather explicit manner than yours. You found yourself grabbing the metal, holding onto the side of the basket to ground yourself.

“I don’t need to be fooling you, just everyone else,” you replied confidently but the shakiness of your breathing told him you were anything but. You mirrored him and stared ahead too. You could hear shuffling after that.

The buzzing went up a notch without warning and it made your pussy clench, clit sending signals to make your whole lower body flutter. You sighed, reaching up to touch where your neck met your shoulder, but that was all you allowed yourself.

Something was building albeit slowly. Occasionally, Javier left your side for a moment to pick something out from a shelf. You couldn’t follow, scared to let go of the shopping cart in case it was the way you gripped it that was holding you in line. When he came back, he scanned your face and gave your hand on the cart a squeeze.

The brain fog that you were experiencing was making you doubt how many settings the little vibrating device had. Right now, you had experienced two but you were certain that it had much more to offer. Not that you were going to ask Javier about it.

“Did you need anything specific? I already got the coffee beans that you like,” Javier studied the shopping list that the two of you had made before heading out the door. He kept looking from the list to the cart’s contents and back again, still seemingly unaffected.

“No, don’t think so,” you mumbled shakily as you both continued down the aisles.

Javier reached into his pocket, a neutral expression on his face. He fumbled for a moment, and then suddenly, the buzzing of the bullet really took off. Your hand flew to your mouth to suppress the noise that came out of you as you clenched around nothing. You felt slick pool slowly in your underwear, making the cotton fabric stick to your cunt.

“Oh Jesus,” you slowly blew air out of your mouth. Javier checked to see if anyone was around to notice you.

“You look so hot, sweetheart,” Javier praised quietly as he walked by you, “Are you okay? Feels good?”

“Mhm,” you whimpered and finally dared to let go of the shopping cart. It might help keep you distracted to help with the grocery shopping, and so you went to look at the list over Javier’s shoulder.

The plan worked for maybe two minutes. Soon, you found yourself crouching down by a stupid merchandise stand at the end of the candy aisle. All it had taken was a tug somewhere deep inside of you, your womb clenching as your orgasm built slowly towards a crescendo.

People were staring but you hardly noticed. Javier parked your groceries to approach you, watched your shoulders tense as the position only strained your panties against the bullet even more. It was torture against your clit, enough to make you want to buck your hips and enough to make your pussy feel empty.

Javier’s strong hand rubbed between your shoulder blades to soothe you. He must’ve looked so sweet from afar, playing the good boyfriend and smiling politely at the people passing by you whilst sending you strange looks.

“Just a little lightheaded,” he responded when a white-haired lady asked if you were okay, “Morning sickness, you know how it is.”

“Oh yes. Poor thing, I’m glad she has such a sweetheart of a boy with her,” she had replied with a kind smile before moving on with her shopping.

“Fuck you,” you had moaned pathetically when she was out of earshot. You had already considered jumping the nearest shelf to fulfill the prophecy of your ongoing joke about this sort of play.

Javier leaned down over you. To others it must have seemed innocent enough, especially because he kissed the top of your head before helping you to stand, but having an excuse of being so close gave him the opportunity to whisper filth to you.

“You might as well not fight it, I’ll walk around in here until you gush in your pretty little panties,” he said quietly. You bit your lip and breathed out through your nose. He wanted you to come in here, and you knew then that you would, “I can see how close you are. The skin of your neck is so red. Bet your panties are soaked. I can probably see your cunt through them now. Is that right? Is she that wet for me?”

“Yes, yes, Javi,” you could say nothing more; he was right and he was cruel. You wondered where in the store it would be the least risky to have him touch you because you fantasized about his thick fingers inside of you at this point, them beckoning the rising pressure in your stomach to reach its peak. Nobody deserves to feel as empty as you were right now.

But Javier was already heading for the cash register with all of your groceries. He was ready to leave you there, coming undone and having to find him a minute later with shame burning up your neck and on your face, when he found out what had happened whilst he wasn’t watching you. You decided against that happening.

Carefully, you walked after him and from the back of his head, you could see that he was listening for you. You could also see that he was reaching into his pocket again, rummaging around like someone looking for their wallet but you knew what was coming. No no no— He turned the remote up without warning just like before, fished out his wallet afterwards to keep up the act of the regular, vanilla couple.

You could imagine the smirk on his face as he heard you nearly stumble but luckily managing to grab a shelf. Cans tumbled to the floor, and you gave the back of his head a death stare. God, you wanted him inside of you.

The bullet wasn’t buzzing anymore; it was pulsing in a rhythm that drove you close to an orgasm in so little time that you found yourself panicking slightly. It was like your heartbeat was in your clit, going faster and faster as if you were running towards something and that something was so close that you bailed on Javier in the middle of the main aisle.

Quickly, you went to the nearest side-aisle of stuff that people usually left alone, so you could have just an illusion of privacy. You must’ve looked insane as you practically ran into hiding in plain sight.

Behind you, Javier followed like a hungry predator, groceries forgotten. He only just managed to push you against a shelf before you whimpered as your cunt erupted into a rapid series of pleasurable bursts. You pushed your thighs together, completely at the mercy of the waves of your orgasm washing over you and the bullet not stopping its sweet torture to your over sensitive clit.

Before you could moan, Javier covered his mouth with yours to silence you. He kissed you slowly and gently through the aftershocks of your high, holding a hand over your mouth afterwards to let you enjoy the experience of the bullet not relenting, as if it had its own purpose of making you wet your underwear even more then and there. You suppressed a sob that would have been so loud that the whole store would know what was going on, only whimpering pathetically against the now damp inside of Javier’s palm.

“Fuck, you are so hot. When we’re home, I swear…,” Javier praised as he put his free hand in his pocket to fumble with the remote. He accidentally pressed the wrong button and your pussy clenched hard again as the vibrator went insane. You were briefly terrified that you were going to have another orgasm in the store, eyes rolling back into your skull whilst you fought back a panicked cry… but then the bullet stopped altogether. Thank heavens.

“What I wouldn’t get to taste you right now,” Javier whispered as you both just stared at each other. He removed his hand carefully. His face was so close to you that it would give you away if anyone saw you, so you moved slightly and looked away with burning cheeks.

“Listen,” he caught your attention again, “I know your sweet little cunt could’ve handled more but… Didn’t want to overwhelm her since we’re heading back soon.”

“Javi,” you looked at him in disapproval, cheeks completely flushed now and your pulse loud in your ears. Slick was soaking through your panties, smearing your inner thighs slightly.

“I want her all to myself, baby. Don’t worry,” he just continued, “I’ll pay here, carry all our shit to the car and then I’ll drive us home, so I can fuck you until you’re cockdrunk. You don’t have to do a thing.”

“Please,” you said pathetically, not trusting yourself to protest in case he would turn on the device again, “Yes please.”

It happened so quickly after that. You felt like you were walking around in a bell jar, noises being just that; noises, and they were indistinguishable from each other in your post-orgasmic bliss. Around you, Javier finished everything up and guided your motionless mind through it all.

Time passed in quick slow motion. You were suddenly in the passenger seat of the car, slick still pooling around your opening and most likely staining the skirt of your dress now too. You didn’t even want to think about the fabric of the car seat.

Javier walked around from the back of the car, having finished loading the groceries into the back. He got into the front seat, keys jingling as he put them in the ignition and then turning on the engine.

You quickly reached out to turn up the cold air conditioning, desperate to cool down your body temperature from your grocery store escapades. Javier chuckled beside you and you wondered briefly why he hadn’t put the car in reverse and taken you home yet.

“You know. I think you can handle one more,” he told you. Your head snapped to the side to stare at him.

“Javi,” you felt embarrassed as you moaned.

“One more, that’s all,” he reassured you, reaching into his pocket to actually fish out the remote and you cursed at the size of the thing; that such a small device could almost bring you to tears. You gulped but it didn’t stop him from pressing its buttons and forcing it to draw another orgasm from you, “Just so you’re all ready and soaked… red and waiting when we’re home.”

And then he drove whilst you writhed on the passenger seat. You hoped that he was at least hard underneath his denim pants, looking at him out of the corner of your eyes to see if you could see the outline of his cock. You could.

“Fuck,” you groaned as pressed back against the car seat, reaching up to sheathe your fingers in your hair. He was right there but you couldn’t have him.

At a red light, Javier’s hand left it the steering wheel to touch you. He pushed the fabric of your dress between your thighs so he could cup you around your cunt, feeling the bullet buzz along and making your orgasm approach faster.

“Mierda,” he swore as he felt the rhythmic pulses, “it’s really going crazy on you.”

“No shit,” it was your first attempt at being snarky, but your tone of voice was not matching your words. You found yourself whimpering as the hand removed itself again.

“No need to be rude, you’ll get my dick soon enough,” he snickered, putting both his hands on the steering wheel again. He looked so composed but you noticed his knuckles turning white.

You chuckled breathlessly at his tiny scolding, but all you could hear was his promise of what was to come. You came after that with the thought of his generous cock; the thought of it seating itself slowly in your pussy so you could feel every ridge of the veins. The hand in your hair came down between your legs as if it would make a difference.

“That’s my baby,” he praised, “I’ll turn it off when we’re home.”

What? You looked up to see how far home was from your current location, sighing in relief as you found it to be less than a minute away.

You were the one who had to lock the car and open the front door after two orgasms, because Javier was carrying a bag in each of his hands. He had been kind enough to turn off the bullet, but it was still making you struggle with how your walking made it nudge at your swollen clit with each step you took. It was like defusing a bomb to even insert the key into the keyhole,

When you finally managed to open the door, Javier pushed past you as you threw the keys onto the table in your entrance hall. You followed him into the kitchen not long after, but where you expected to find him putting away your groceries, you saw the bags carelessly on the kitchen counter.

“Those need to be refrigerated,” you pointed out but Javier was soon all over you, and you could hear how ridiculous you had sounded as he kissed your lips with a bruising force. Automatically, you threw your arms around his neck and shoulders.

“Need you right now. Everything else can wait,” he mumbled against your mouth, running his tongue along your bottom lip until you let your mouth fall open for him to explore. It was only his to explore, you wanted to let him know, moaning softly as you tilted your head to deepen the meeting of lips.

His hands were on your hips, bunching up the fabric of your sundress slightly as he steered you towards the kitchen table. He slid his palms around your body, cupped the rounding of your ass so you could feel the hem of your dress ride up and tickle the back of your knees. Then he pulled you against himself, never once breaking the kisses that he was giving you.

You breathed sharply through your nose as you felt his hardening bulge poke into your hip. Your hands went to his belt, frantically pulling to unbuckle it and then going for his fly with shaky hands. It was the first thing that broke the string of kisses as the both of you looked down between you.

Javier’s hands came to rest on yours, helping you to steady them so you could finish what you were doing. You yanked his denim jeans down and followed with his boxer briefs as well, subconsciously licking your lips as you finally caught the first glimpse of his impressive erection. Your fingers wrapped around his length instantly.

“Shit,” you could hear him whisper.

“Thought you’d been neglected for too long,” you whispered back, stroking him languidly and feeling the tug in your core. It almost hurt to not have him inside your cunt already; you couldn’t imagine how he felt at this point. The restraint that he had shown as you trembled in the grocery store aisles was hot and worth being rewarded, “You want to fuck me?”

“You want me to fuck you?” He challenged with a shuddering breath but then nodded, “Yes— I want to feel you.”

“I want you to shove your big cock in me right here. You must be starving,” your voice was still a whisper. Reluctantly, you removed your hand from him and saw him twitch in the air, “Please.”

He followed through after a string of swear words. With rough hands, he forced one of the grocery bags to the side and bent you over the counter. He pushed you down until your cunt and ass was level with his pelvis, and you grabbed at the surface for purchase. Oh, the anticipation.

The skirt was roughly pulled up over your ass in the next moment, Javier showing little care for the floral fabric. You felt the air hit your wet underwear and bring you a cool sensation against your warm, ready cunt. You could feel the cotton fabric cling around your mound, showing your shape off for him without him having to undress you completely.

Reaching around you, he plucked the bullet from your panties and let it fall to the ground so he could touch you directly without it being in the way. You keened as you felt his index- and middle finger press down on your abused clit.

“Chica sucia,” he growled as you gushed out a new pool of slick. He dragged his fingers through it, then pulled back, fingers still on you, to see the new wet stain on your underwear, “I can see you through ‘em. Should make you come again… just so you’re all newly-sensitive when I give you my dick.”

“Please— baby,” you would take anything that he had to offer, still admiring his restraint that you definitely didn’t possess in the same manner, because you practically humped his hand.

“You really are a dirty girl, aren’t you?” Javier began rubbing your clit in earnest and sent you flying forwards with a gasp, his length jutting into your thigh as you rocked your hips into his strong hand. You pushed back against it, but it only made him falter a little. He was disciplined.

By now, you were panting and begging for him. He was having you on the edge again already and you couldn’t fight it, your walls fluttering with your inevitable high.

“That’s it, let it go. She wants it,” he egged you on, “Jesus, look at you.”

With a shout, you were sent into sweet spasms as your third clit orgasm in a very short time hit you. You could feel tears prickle in the corners of your eyes, threatening to make you lose composure and collapse on the floor.

“Oh no, you don’t,” he told you sternly as your knees were about to give in. He placed a hand on the small of your back, doing quick work of pulling your panties down and pushing his cock into you so he could hold you up by pressing the front of his thighs against the back of yours. His girth was already making you stretch in a way that burned deliciously, and at this point you actually shed real tears.

Normally, you’d prefer him to go slow when entering you, but you were already so slick and soft that you took him easily, walls sucking him in with a pathetic moan as he nudged deep inside of your pussy and threatened to make more tears drip down onto the counter. His hands found your shoulder and your hip, fingers gripping harshly and desperately before he started unceremoniously fucking you.

When was the last time you ever felt this way about a guy? All teenage hormones, gotta-have-you-now and no sense of self, only the thought of your twosome. You cried out at being filled to the brim repeatedly.

Your hands scrambled for something to hold onto, flat palms on the countertop not being enough. You felt your knees slamming against the cabinets and probably bruising them, and you stood on your tippy toes to make the thick head of his cock slide over that small spot inside of you. The wet squelching your sex made was obscene.

Javier leaned over you. He drilled into you in a way that forced the air out of your lungs, making you choke on your cries of pleasure and the little air you had left. His hand let go of your hip, moving to your wrist, so he could pull it behind your back. He did the same with the other one until he had both in an iron grip against the small of your back.

The move made you unable to hold up your overwhelmingly sensitive body, and so your face and breasts ended up pressed into the countertop. The coolness soothed your blushing upper body despite the friction against your hard nipples. All this whilst your wet cunt burned with desire for another release, which was tightening like a coil in the pits of your belly, because of the way that your g-spot was stimulated in this position.

“Oh fuck, tightening around me like that. Already?” Javier ground into you impossibly harder and practically made you sing, “Thought your little cunt was done for, thought she was spent, greedy little thing you both are. Let me help you.”

His right hand went down in front of your thighs, between you and the counter. He touched you, felt you up, so he could touch where you were connected as one. You were spread so wide for him, puffy and soft, but the second he found your clit, you tightened and flew forward, “Ngh– I can’t— Javi!”

“You can do it, baby. one more, that’s all,” Javier wrapped his hand around both of your now crossed wrists, yanking hard to pull you down onto his length again. He twitched inside of you and you knew it meant that he was close, breathing labored as he continued to thrust deep inside of you while barely pulling out anymore, “I want you to milk me fucking dry.”

A mixture of your sensitive nipples rubbing against the surface of the kitchen table, the pads of Javier’s fingers against your clit and your g-spot being slammed into made you tip over the edge. Your orgasm came fast but with being so full of cock, it felt much more dragged out and intense than the first three.

You fought to cross your legs but couldn’t with the way that Javier’s cock was in between them, so you were absolutely wailing as the coil snapped and sending you through a tumult of torturous euphoria. He felt bigger than ever inside of you, and your walls clenched around him as he chased his own high.

“So fucking tight,” it took only a few more pushes into your cunt before Javier swore behind you. He filled you, stilled and pulsed, making your head swim even more with each burst of come coating you from the inside. Teenage hormones, huh? Not even heard about the pullout method.

You were both very quiet afterwards except for your struggling breaths. You wanted to break the silence with a witty remark but nothing was going through your head, so instead you just sighed deeply, contentedly, “Fuck.”

“I should’ve given you one more,” Javier said behind you. He reached down to pull out, grunting quietly as he slid out of your heat along with a bit of your mixed arousals.

You chuckled but quickly stopped as you felt too sore to do even that. The emptiness was worse than ever, and your body's complaints in the store now seemed silly, “I couldn’t have.”

Before you started dripping out his come, Javier led you out of the kitchen and into the bathroom to shower. He was gentle as ever, supporting you by holding you with an arm around your waist to keep your wobbly legs secure. None of you felt the need to say anything; not when he turned on the water, not when he washed away the tear streaks from your face, not when he kissed you slowly in the shower cubicle, no, not even coaxed one last high out of you that seemed to fog the shower cubicle more than the hot water and had your legs shaking all over.

Only when you saw him get a cloth from the cabinets, soaking it in cool water before holding it over your cunt to soothe the rough handling of her, you decided to speak, “I love how you love me.”

“Yeah?” Javier looked up at you whilst his hand was still holding the cool washcloth against you. He simply smiled, leaning in to nose along your jaw before pressing a kiss to it.

You wrapped your arms around him, “Yeah.”

Things went on for a few more minutes. You soothed yourself under the comfort of the spray, sharing it with Javier without much trouble as he washed you and himself down with the cool cloth. It felt like your own little slice of heaven.

When you were done, he kissed you deeply and multiple times as he dried both of your bodies. You didn’t want to get dressed, and he accepted that, reaching down to carry you bridal-style into the bedroom.

After you got comfortable in your shared bed and Javier put on a new pair of underwear, he kissed you on the forehead.

“I should apologize to her,” he chuckled as he leaned over you, nodding towards the treasure between your legs, “But what a trooper.”

“I don’t think anyone should apologize here,” you were lying on your side and rested both your hands under your head. You watched him pull the blanket over you, and my God, you were so in love with him that it was ridiculous.

“I’ll go unpack, and pray to whoever that the ice cream is still somewhat frozen,” he informed you on his way out of the room, “Want some if it’s unsalvageable?”

“I want some either way,” you said despite feeling beyond tired.

“Coming right up.”

.

.

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[noihavenosanitythanksforasking]

ableism in mha

okay so i was scrolling and i came across this post and it helped me reorganize a lot of thoughts ive been thinking sense i first started mha. ive always been not a fan of izuku getting ofa in the first place as it felt to me as it almost completely erased any meaning of his backstory. it felt like such a plot armor/mary sue moment but in the end i got over it, assuming that most likely he would loose it at one point (i was right but we'll get to that later).

after he enters UA its almost as if his entire past is just like- not important?? i have plenty of hcs about his suppressed trauma and if you read into a lot of the situations he goes thru in the manga i can see it but is not blatantly said/expressed that he struggles with a complex from how he was treated as a child.

in the end mha becomes a manga mostly focused on some sort of version of not judging a person by their cover. The fact that a technically "villainous" quirk does not make someone a bad person.

now ofc this is totally true. no one should be overlooked or declined rights or decency because of the quirk they have. this lesson is a valid one.

the analogy i have made up in my head is this.

people who are born with "hero-like" or "useful" quirks, for example: bakugou, todoroki, hawks etc are beautiful people

(for the context of this metaphor ignore the fact that beauty is complex and is in the eye of the beholder just roll with me)

and then you have the people with "useless" or average quirks that are just average people

and then you have people like toga or shinsou with quirks that are seen as inherently dangerous. quirks that are unable to be used for good. those are the ugly people.

now obviously we shouldnt discriminate people just because society says they are ugly. there is no doubt in that and it is a tragedy that it happened and still happens.

however

20% of the population cannot even fall onto this scale. the quirkless. aka the disabled. they are not even seen as being worth a label on the scale because they are so disgusting and strange that no one wants to remember yhey exist.

i wouldnt be as upset by the lack of talk about quirkless people if izuku wasnt quirkless, if the first arc of mha wasnt izuku struggling with the fact that no one in the world cares about him but his mom and that not even her believes he can achieve anything because of his disability.

the whole set up was izuku wanted to be a hero DESPITE his disability. even though truly he thought it was impossible. he didnt work out, he didnt try and do anything to become a hero because he believed everyone was right. that what society had been telling him his whole life was true and he couldnt be a hero. but he wanted to despite that. that was the hook of mha. at least for me.

a bullied lonely boy with a disability achieves his dream despite society. despite being told at every turn that he couldnt do it. he said he can and he does.

but thats not what happened at all.

instead some pillar of all that is heroic drops down from the sky and magically cures his disability. and suddenly hes just a normal kid.

and suddenly we forget all about midoriya izuku and how hard it is to be quirkless. how much quirkless people struggle. how many of them must commit suicide because of yhe seeming completely normalized harassment of them in everyday life.

and i dont want to blame izuku for this because in the end hes a kid with trauma who just wants to fit in. its frankly quite obvious that he whole heartedly agrees with bakugou and everyone else from his past that yeah quirkless people are useless.

the way he treated Melissa in the movie broke my heart. he belittled her like it was second nature and while he obviously had no malicious feelings toward her because of her quirklessness he sees her as a second class citizen. hes surprised that she is able to achieve things despite her disability. that she manages to be happy in a world where she isnt "normal".

and again in the long run i dont truly blame izuku for feeling this way. like everyone he is a product of his environment.

again, however:

i do blame horikoshi

do we need to be nicer to people with villainous quirks: yes ofc

but your manga isnt about that. your manga is about someone whose seen as even less than that. you can address both issues.

having bakugou break down about izuku becoming quirkless was good but that was pretty much all we got.

and what happenes when izuku looses ofa?? he gives up on being a hero.

how the hell does that make sense

everyone in japan knows this boys name. he is considered a top hero. and he just drops off the face the hero scene?

hatsume exists??? izukus face has been in her boobs TWICE for gods sake. yaoyorozu can make things out of thin and are they had to wait 8 years.

izuku is too smart to not think of that.

it would take hatsume 3 days max.

and ignoring that whole point again hori is pushing the idea that bakugou and everyone from aldera were CORRECT. that yeah u were right to think the quirkless of useless cause like they cant do anything :3c

izuku has had NO growth this whole manga. all hes learned is how to hit things how to kick things and awww kacchan sad :(((.

nothing about believing in himself. nothing about how he can be a hero despite the odds. nothing even about the power of friendship helping him to overcome.

im just like wtf hori.

[sualne]

What are your thoughts on Zoro?

like in general? 😭 huh, i love him, i love that he strive so hard to be the cool stoic protector of the strawhat even though he's actually a big dummy with a sensitive heart who just has no idea how to express himself.

i love how he's constantly training to be strong then stronger but sanji never ever trains for combat (that we (i??) know of) and still matches him equally and all that implies for both of them.

i love that he's visibly (and visually lol) disabled, i wished it had more impact on the story!! (i was greeting a client the other day and walked hard into half/corner of the door, poor fella got wide eyed but i acted like nothing happened cause it happens all the time and kept on talking and going inside the house y'know, anyway i need zoro to do exactly that and a thousand times).

i like green also, a lot. his design's real cool, goth swordsman with earrings can't fail there, love when he wears his bandanna, ppl love to make him a werewolf in vamp & werewoos AUs but i think he should get to be a vampire actually, say mihawk chomped on him while sleepwalking or smth, maybe he was born like that, maybe he woke up undead one day and he's got no idea he's even a vamp. it could be great!! he also have to be a vampire hunter at the same time, it's a requirement. he can't Not be.

what next huh, i love his gay ass. "my sword is moaning for your blood' and "the bigger the better" what is wrong with him i need him to do it more often this is so funny. i love that he's in love with luffy also that's epic. i love that everyone falls for luffy in general i mean how could you not that's a whole luff right there, freedom and hope in silly rubber.

anyway my thoughts is i love zoro a lot.

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

The Plan

Pairings: Pre-poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: The boys finally have a conversation about their feelings. [wordcount: 1.1k words] Tags: fem!reader, wheelchair user!reader, reader is not present, love confessions Note: I am aware I never posted this one on my original account - I believe that it made me cringe but I honestly don't care and want to share it anyway. Sirius's Realisation | James's Realisation | Remus's Realisation | The Plan

The fire crackles low in the hearth of the Gryffindor common room, casting a warm glow over plush armchairs and worn wooden tables. Shadows dance along the walls, elongated by the flickering light, while the rest of the castle sleeps, its stone walls hushed under the weight of centuries. James is sprawled in one such chair, his glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose, eyes narrowed as he stares into the embers. Sirius is there too, lounging on the armrest, one boot resting on the cushion next to James. His fingers play absently with the wand in his hand, spinning it around in a slow, almost hypnotic rhythm.

Remus sits apart from them, his back against the cool stone of the fireplace. He's quiet, legs crossed at the ankles, an open book forgotten on his lap. His gaze is unfocused, not on the page before him but somewhere far beyond the confines of the common room.

It's late—too late for anyone to be up, really, but sleep is a luxury none of them can afford right now. The usual laughter and banter that fill these hours have been replaced by a heavy silence, each boy lost in their own thoughts. You're just a room away, the door to your accessible bedroom slightly ajar—the boys had insisted on checking on you, making sure you were comfortable for the night before they settled back into their vigil by the fire.

The fire's glow dances on their faces, casting shadows that seem to flicker with the unspoken tension between them. It is Sirius who breaks the silence first, his voice a low rumble that fills the space with the weight of unsaid words.

"Alright," he begins, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees as his grey eyes dart between James and Remus. A seriousness settles upon him, replacing the typical mischief that dances in his gaze. "We need to talk about... this. About us."

James's fingers tighten around his glasses, tracing the rim before setting them back onto his nose. He pulls at the frayed edge of his sweater, a habit born from years of nervous energy. "Us?" His question hangs in the air, delicate and laced with cautious curiosity. But there's something else in his hazel eyes—a glimmer of comprehension that mirrors the gravity of Sirius's own expression. "You mean..."

"The three of us." Sirius's confirmation is almost a whisper, yet it cuts through the lingering uncertainty. There's an odd mix of defiance and vulnerability in his stance—defiance against the norms they've always known and vulnerability in confronting the unknown.

"And Y’N." The name hangs between them like a secret shared but not fully understood. Sirius's gaze shifts toward your closed door, and for a moment, a hint of a smile plays on his lips before it vanishes, replaced by a hard set jaw. "This... thing. We can't pretend it's not happening."

Remus exhales slowly, closes his book with a soft thud, and sets it aside. His eyes lock onto something distant, unspoken thoughts stirring behind his amber irises. There's hesitation, yes, but no denial. "I've felt it too," he admits in a low voice that carries the weight of his uncertainty. "There's a connection, stronger than friendship, unlike anything I've ever known. But... it's complicated. Especially with her."

James leans forward, elbows on his knees, every line of his body speaking to the gravity of their predicament. "It feels like we're supposed to be together, doesn't it? The three of us, and her. But we can't just spring this on her. Not when she's already dealing with so much."

"Exactly." Sirius's voice is a low growl, frustration edging into his words. "She's trying to navigate her health issues, the pain, the bloody wheelchair… The last thing she needs is for us to heap more on her. But we can't pretend there isn't something happening here either."

Remus watches them both, the lines of his face softening. "Perhaps we need to sort ourselves out first. Understand what these feelings are and what we want from this… arrangement."

Sirius pushes off the wall abruptly, pacing a few steps before spinning around to face them. "I've been thinking about it. You two mean everything to me. And yes, I'm in love with her, but I'm also…" He trails off, raking a hand through his hair. "I'm in love with both of you as well. I don't know how to make sense of that. I've never felt anything like this before."

James's jaw tightens, but he keeps his eyes on Sirius, his own struggle evident in the set of his shoulders. "You're not alone," he says quietly. "I've been trying to figure it out too. Honestly, I feel the same way. About her. About both of you."

Remus stays seated, his fingers tracing the edge of his book. His voice is softer but no less decisive. "We don't have to figure this out tonight. If we're serious about this—about her—we owe it to her and each other to get it right."

The room falls quiet once more, save for the crackling fire casting flickering shadows over their tense faces. Sirius stops pacing, hands finding their way back into his pockets as he regards them. "So we take it slow," he says, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "We figure out what this means for us before we involve her."

James nods, a semblance of a smile ghosting over his lips. "Right. And we have to be transparent with each other. If we're doing this, it's all in or nothing. No jealousy, no secrets."

Remus pushes off from the wall, crossing the distance to join them by the fireplace. His gaze flickers between the two boys, uncertainty clouding his amber eyes for just a moment before he speaks. "Agreed. This is uncharted territory, but we can navigate it... together."

Their eyes meet across the flickering firelight, silent messages passed between them. The crackle of the logs is the only sound that breaks the stillness, underscoring their shared resolve. They know the journey ahead will be fraught with challenges, yet there's a sense of readiness that pervades the air. They're no longer alone; they're united, and that brings a strength none of them have ever known before.

In the weeks that follow, they tread lightly around the edges of this newfound connection, probing its depths with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity. They learn to grapple with the unspoken emotions that have always lingered just beneath the surface, forging pathways of trust and understanding. And when the time feels right, when the bond has solidified into something tangible and unbreakable, they turn their attention to you, ready to face whatever lies ahead as one.

[lucagray813]

Shadow - Chapter 8

Title: Something Special

Rating: E (M rated and E rated sections are marked with the line break --M-- and --E-- respectively and can be skipped)

Word Count: ~10,000

Characters: Wukong, Macaque

Minor Characters: Monkeys, Mentioned PIF

Relationships: Macaque/Wukong

Minor Relationships: Macaque & PIF

Summary: After some monkey shenanigans, Wukong learns a little about the difficulties Macaque faced while he was imprisoned. And bold, new steps are taken in the bedroom.

Additional Tags: Developing Relationship, Acquired Disability, Slice of Life, DBK is called Niú, PIF is called Gōngzhǔ

CW: Sexual Intimacy, sexual inexperience, first times, penetrative sex, emotional sex, interrupted sex, panic attacks

Link to AO3 Version

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----

Wukong was not born yesterday and his beloved monkey subjects were nowhere near as slick as they thought they were. This lot were clearly on distraction duty but they couldn't be more obvious about it if they tried, so ignoring their concerned shrieks, he turned heel and made his way back to the house.

Which apparently was enough to prompt desperate measures but it didn't matter how many monkeys piled on top of him or tried to pull him back - they couldn't hope to slow him down, let alone stop him. Their attempts to cover his eyes however was a step too far - being both irritating and dangerous - so he simply transformed in quick succession to a tiny mouse and then a bird to get away from them.

He flew swiftly and if that wasn't the sight and sound of a lookout just outside the house then he didn't know what was. He wasted no time swooping down and transforming back to normal in order to march through the door, "Alright, the game's up, what's- What the-? What are you doing with my stuff!?"

It looked like they were trying to steal anything that wasn't nailed down. A small group was even putting in a huge effort to try and move the couch towards the door. There was some panicked scrabbling as most of the trouble makers tried to make a run for it and he had to move fast to save the TV but once that was safely righted it wasn't hard to catch a couple monkeys to interrogate.

"Alright. You know this is not on. What were you planning to do with my stuff?"

The monkey he had dangling from his left hand curled up as best they could, regret clear in their expression - although he didn't doubt for a second it was because they'd been caught and not because they felt any guilt. The monkey on his right was much less apologetic, apparently they needed his stuff for something important and they complained that they were going to bring it back when they were finished.

He shook them carefully, "I don't care that you were going to bring it back - where were you trying to take everything I own?"

They were tight-lipped so he redirected his attention to the weaker link, staring at them with as much disapproval as he could muster and they cracked almost immediately.

"You needed it for a show...? What show? What are you talking about?"

He shifted the angry monkey in his right hand to under his arm to stop them trying to reach the whistleblower and put the one in his left down, "Alright, the jigs up - show me where you were planning to take all this stuff."

After sending a wary glance towards their imprisoned partner in crime, they reluctantly led the way, and thankfully in that time his prisoner had calmed down, simply hanging limp and defeated. He shook his head - everyone on this island was so dramatic.

He wasn't very surprised to be led to the old theatre, long since cleaned up since Macaque had returned, but he was surprised to see it absolutely teeming with monkeys preparing to go on stage. He spotted Macaque off to the side with his eyes closed, he almost looked like he was sleeping in his chair and, given how peaceful he looked, he likely had limited the range of his hearing to almost nothing.

There was no way he didn't know he was here though - he would have sensed his magic if nothing else.

Bemused by what he thought was going on here, he released his charges and made his way over, sitting close to Macaque before asking, "This the director's seat?"

Macaque didn't even open his eyes as he hummed tiredly, "Nope. Think that got tossed against a wall, like, twenty minutes ago. God knows where the director is, doubt it's the same monkey it was. They've already gone through about three of them."

A little confused, he responded, "Wait, this isn't your doing?"

Macaque peeked open an eye for long enough to look at him in mild disbelief and offense, "I know it's been a while but you really think I'd run a show this badly?"

He looked around at the chaos and decided that no, Macaque was most definitely not calling the shots around here. He rubbed at his chin thoughtfully, "Yeah, that does make sense. Why would you need to send the monkeys to steal furniture?"

Macaque sighed irritably and brought a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose, "I told them not to- Sorry, I should have realised but I just couldn't handle the racket anymore. Did they break anything?"

"Nah, I got there before they could do any damage. You doing alright? You're not looking so hot."

"Yeah, yeah... Just tired. Think I might have a migraine coming on."

He frowned, "What are you doing here then? You couldn't be in a worse place to help it."

"It's a long story but someone needs to provide the special effects."

Did they really? He responded, "Well, I'll do it then. Get yourself out of here."

"I'd rather stay here but if you could take over my job I would actually be super grateful."

"Alright, what's the deal? Why're you wanting to torment yourself like this?"

"Can we talk about it later? I just... need to be around the monkeys for a while."

His expression softened, Macaque did occasionally have moments where he really wanted the monkeys' company, usually if he'd had a nightmare about the fire and if he was tired that might be what had happened.

Still he wasn't going to do himself any favours staying here, carefully he offered, "I could try some healing magic? That might help?"

He didn't miss the way Macaque tensed for a moment before he forced himself to relax. There had definitely been a polite decline on the tip of his tongue but shockingly he instead nodded stiffly. Wukong's offer had been genuine but he never actually believed Macaque would consider it.

Even before Macaque's hang ups about someone else's magic getting a little too close to his, he had never handled healing magic that well. Wukong was not particularly skilled at it either but he'd patched up literally thousands of monkeys over the years, so he had a pretty good grasp of the basics at least.

Slowly he raised his hands until they hovered on either side of Macaque's head, "You sure...?"

He nodded jerkily but it was clear how distressed he was about it, his body was tense, his face was scrunched up and his breathing was starting to pick up. Wukong hesitated, "Macaque..."

He spoke quickly, "Just do it."

Deciding to go for it, he took a deep breath and concentrated, determined not to mess this up. Macaque flinched as soon as his hands started to glow but he brought his own hands up to grab at Wukong's wrists as if to force them both to stay where they were.

He told himself to focus on the spell, focus on getting it right. He knew Macaque's magic, he would be able to feel if it responded badly, this was just fear, not pain.

He quietly uttered reassurances, "That's it. You're doing well. Just keep breathing."

Typically, the recipient would normally start to feel more relieved as the spell went on but Macaque just seemed to be doing his best to grit his teeth and bear it. This was the sort of spell you could keep going with but he tried to keep it as short as possible. He disengaged his magic slowly but he couldn't actually move his hands away with the hold Macaque had on them.

Instead he brought them to rest gently on the sides of his head, waiting for Macaque to come back to himself, which he did after a ragged breath in.

"You ok?"

Macaque nodded before dragging their hands away from his face and almost immediately flopping his head on Wukong's shoulder, "Tired."

Wukong was startled slightly by a small number of curious and concerned monkeys climbing over him. He'd almost forgotten where they were - chaos still carried on around them, most monkeys not even sparing them a glance bar this handful that were quietly chittering and asking what was wrong.

He jostled Macaque gently, "I've got things handled here. Go to get some rest. Go to my room and you can take this lot with you to keep you company."

They were a considerate bunch, keeping their enthusiasm for such a suggestion as quiet as they could, belatedly he recognised most of them as ones that had been around long before he'd come back from the Journey.

He felt Macaque nod, "Yeah... I should do that..."

"Yeah, you should. Before you do though - did the spell work? How're you feeling?"

Macaque sighed and pushed himself up tiredly, "I don't think it didn't work but I think I was too tense and tired for it to do much."

He leaned over and kissed his temple, "Go get some sleep and we can talk about it later. You did really good though."

Macaque just huffed and addressed the monkeys, "Alright, who wants to go for a nap?"

Almost all of them scrambled to get closer to him - a clear indication that they wanted to come with. And with a small, tired smile he was gone, his many willing volunteers gone with him.

Well, that was an unexpected success. Obviously, it would have been better if his spell had actually helped but the fact that Macaque even let him try it was a massive step for him and when he was less tired Wukong was definitely going to make a big deal about it. For now though...

He had to deal with this - whatever this even was.

He looked down at the despondent monkey that had remained in his lap and questioned them, "Don't suppose you can explain what's going on, can you?"

King sad. Want happy king. Did bad job.

The monkeys tended to address he and Macaque with the same title, particularly those that had been alive when he had been trapped under the mountain. It had annoyed him at the very beginning before the two of them had properly started to reconcile but now he was pretty happy that they viewed Macaque as his equal.

He could see how this might have started off as an attempt to cheer Macaque up but the monkeys had a tendency to quickly lose sight of why they were doing something and just got caught up in doing whatever they wanted and this had clearly spiralled well out of control.

"Hey, none of that now. He just wasn't feeling well. He would have loved this otherwise."

It was a little bit of a white lie. Even on a good day this probably would have irritated Macaque but he could appreciate the gesture. He probably still did appreciate it now, even if he was under the weather.

He moved them to his shoulder and looked around, trying to come up with a plan of attack. He had to try and find the monkey in charge so he could introduce them to their new special effects artist. Although it was looking likely that this had devolved past the point of anyone being in charge.

He sighed heavily, if he called the whole thing off there would be a riot. It looked like he was going to have to take charge here, he couldn't help but envy Macaque, no doubt lying in bed cosied up to some much better behaved monkeys.

Ah well, show time, he supposed.

----

Several grueling hours later and he was finally free to go check up on Macaque. There had been some genuinely fun moments throughout the day, and he was forever amazed by the stories the monkeys came up with, but he was absolutely ready to join Macaque in bed.

He was however stopped short when he opened his bedroom door and felt compelled to immediately locate his phone. It was just too cute a sight not to capture. Macaque curled up dozing, surrounded by monkeys doing the same, most of them snuggled up to him.

Alright, his hardships had been worth the pay off, and after a truly unnecessary amount of pictures, he made short work of stripping and carefully trying to join in on the monkey pile. Macaque opened an eye blearily as soon as he got on the bed, he grunted softly in acknowledgement before closing it again.

Unfortunately, some of the monkeys were just going to have to budge slightly because Wukong wanted to lie right next to him, and though they grumbled they did move, allowing him to lie almost nose to nose with Macaque.

He reached over and tucked some hair away from his face before quietly asking, "How you feeling?"

He got a sound in response that suggested that Wukong should shut up and go to sleep. He chuckled lowly, sounded good to him. They could chat after a nap.

An hour or two later saw him returning to the waking world, he yawned loudly as he stretched, before he directed his attention to what appeared to be a still sleeping Macaque.

"Mac...?"

He got a soft hum in acknowledgement and took that as a go ahead, "How you feeling now?"

Macaque yawned before blinking open his eyes, "Hm. Better. How was the show?"

He snorted, "I'd call it a disaster but everyone else seemed to think it was a hit."

Macaque huffed, "Yeah, what would you know about quality theatre?"

"Obviously nothing compared to the troupe. What was up with you earlier?"

Macaque shrugged, "Got into a bit of fight with Gōngzhǔ - just left me feeling a bit rung out."

That was definitely not the answer he was expecting, "What'd you get into a fight over?"

"Ah, it wasn't important. She was just in a mood - it'll be water under the bridge soon enough."

It was hard not to notice one or two of the monkeys still with them did not appear happy at the mention of Gōngzhǔ, it could have just been because she had been why Macaque was upset but they looked quite venomous.

One of them even started complaining about the "scary woman" before Macaque placed a hand over their head, "Yeah, yeah. We're all fine. Give it a rest." They did not look pleased to be silenced but they struggled to keep up the grumbling when Macaque started scratching gently at their scalp.

Wukong was a little suspicious, "Why do I get the feeling the monkeys know more than I do?"

Macaque just sighed, "It's nothing. It's just the last time Gōngzhǔ was on the island before you came back was a bit of a disaster. They don't remember her too fondly."

Despite this having happened hundreds of years ago, he could feel himself getting worked up at the thought that she might have done anything to endanger their home, "What did she do?"

"Wukong, leave it. It's in the past. There's no point getting bent out of shape about it."

He was prepared to argue when he realised that he was probably right, that didn't mean he didn't want to know though. He took a calming breath, and softer he asked, "What happened?"

Macaque hesitated before offering, "She was trying to help. But, and I don't know if you know this, but she has a really twisted notion of what that means. She just..." He cut himself off, before explaining, "I really don't want to tell you this story. It's only going to upset you and there's nothing to be done about it."

"I'm not going to make you tell me but the damage has already been done. I'm just going to imagine the worst case scenario."

Macaque rolled on to his back, and the monkey he had been petting quickly leapt up onto his chest and curled up there and almost unthinkingly Macaque brought his hand to rest on their back.

He was clearly thinking over what to say and Wukong waited patiently, only budging over so he could lay his head on Macaque's shoulder and throw an arm over him.

Tone carefully neutral, he explained, "Things weren't good. They hadn't been for a while but... She was just convinced that if I left the island behind and became an official member of her court I would be better off. We'd argued over it plenty but after the fire... She thought if she finished the job I'd finally see sense. Be free of what was holding me back."

He tightened his grip on Macaque as he processed the implications of those words, he tried to keep his fury in check, "She tried to...?"

"Tried to. Failed. She did some damage to the island, sure, but I would have killed us both before I let her hurt a single member of the troupe. I couldn't save them all from the fire but I would be damned if I was going to fail a second time."

His chest roiled with emotion but what left his mouth was, "How could you stand to be anywhere near her after that?"

He immediately cringed. He was one to talk. How could Macaque ever possibly stand to be anywhere near him after what he'd done? It was likely a similar story - he hadn't forgiven her, but had decided to move forward anyway. He tried to back track, "I mean, I- I just meant-"

"I know what you meant."

Wukong squeezed him, "I'm sorry."

Sorry really didn't do it justice. He was sorry he'd said anything and he was so incredibly remorseful something so awful had happened.

Macaque continued, "It was the last time we saw each other before... I came back. We've never actually properly addressed it but well, it got brought up while we were arguing. I don't think either of us are looking forward to having to try and talk about it. I know she doesn't feel bad about it. She never does if she feels the end would have justified the means."

He honestly wasn't sure what Macaque and Niú saw in her sometimes - there was tough love and then there was just straight up crazy. With how fondly Macaque spoke of her most of the time, he had almost forgotten how capable she was of some truly unimaginable feats of cruelty.

Macaque sighed, "We'll sort it out though. Honestly, that argument earlier was pretty tame - you should have seen how we used to fight back in the day. I swear half my scars are from her, she's such a vicious little shit. You've never met anyone with a hunger for violence like she used to have. But that was then, we'll be fine. You don't need to get involved so just... Don't go off and have a go at her, alright?"

He'd be lying if he said the thought hadn't crossed his mind, but his time was better spent here. Although, he wasn't sure he'd be able to resist glowering at her next time they met. To think he had willingly invited her to the island!

He huffed, "Fine. But she better watch her step next time she's on this island - one toe out of line and she's never allowed back."

"Oh, don't worry. I've said as much to her."

He nodded. Good. He knew Macaque would never knowingly put the island in danger.

He couldn't help but wonder if there had been any tension between Macaque and Gōngzhǔ at the party they'd had here and he'd just never noticed - they'd both seemed happy enough with each other.

"I always thought you two were, like, best friends. I didn't realise you and her had, like, actual beef."

"Yeah, well, I don't go complaining about you in front of her either."

And he was extremely grateful for that - she had enough reason to hate him. But still, while he got that Macaque probably didn't want to foster any bad blood between them, he wanted him to feel like he could talk to him about this stuff. Who else was he going to talk to if he was upset about Gōngzhǔ? Niú? Unlikely.

"How do you think it will go next time you see her?"

"Hard to say. Depends if Niú feels he needs to mediate. But either way it'll be fine, doubt it will end in too much bloodshed."

It would probably be a little hypocritical to say he hoped there was no bloodshed at all - it had been a long while since but he'd often had arguments with Macaque that had come to blows.

"Tell me how it goes?"

Macaque kissed the top of his head, "I will."

He decided to let the topic of Gōngzhǔ drop for the moment, he was definitely going to need some time alone to hash out everything he felt about what he'd learnt but for right now he'd rather forget about her. He asked, "How's your head?"

"Not a hundred percent but definitely better than it was. Er, thanks for, y'know."

"Anytime. How you feeling about the whole me using magic on you?"

He hesitated before answering honestly, "Conflicted."

He encouraged him to elaborate, "How so?"

"Well... Nothing bad happened so I should feel good, right? And I do, sort of. But the idea of doing it again is terrifying. Logically, I know it will be fine but..."

"It doesn't matter what "logically, you know" - your feelings don't care about that. But for the record, I think it was super brave of you to try it. I'm really proud of you."

He could hear the embarrassment in Macaque's voice, "Ugh, shut up."

He pushed himself up and looked down at him, "No way! It was a big deal! We should celebrate!"

Macaque looked like he'd rather do anything else but he tried to negotiate, "If I can do it again, then you can make a fuss, alright? This was probably just a fluke. I was just too tired to think straight."

He pouted as he poked Macaque's cheek, "Why are you so determined to downplay it when you do something impressive?"

Macaque swatted his hand away, "I never miss a chance to showcase my victories. This isn't the same. This is something I should just be able to do without freaking out. That's not impressive."

To be fair, when Macaque thought he'd done something spectacular he was incredibly smug about it, waving it in front of Wukong's face until he felt he received suitable recognition and awe. And Wukong could understand why he felt the way he did about this kind of achievement, at times he felt equally awkward about acknowledging when he'd successfully faced his social anxiety.

But it didn't matter how easy anyone else found it - Macaque had done something that was difficult for him personally and he should be proud of that.

"Well, I think it's impressive and I'm going to celebrate."

Macaque rolled his eyes but there was the faintest blush on his cheeks and that was all the motivation he needed to start showering his face with kisses.

"Ugh, you are such a loser."

Good thing he knew that actually meant - "I love you and I'm happy about the attention." And with that sort of sweet talk all he wanted to do was kiss him senseless. As he shifted to do just that he was interrupted by a disgruntled chirp. He stopped and looked down at the monkey that clearly did not want to move from Macaque's chest.

They had a short stare down but this monkey was crazy if they thought they stood a chance winning this fight but his adversary was obviously no fool because they suddenly stopped glaring at him to look as cute as they could, chirping pathetically at Macaque not to let him hurt them.

Incredulous, Wukong admonished, "You little... That's not going to work! You think we're not both wise to your tricks!"

They shuffled so their head was underneath Macaque's hand so they could nuzzle at it.

They were good but there was no way Macaque was going to fall for it. He would absolutely be aware that he was being played. Macaque laughed fondly, picking the monkey up and bringing them up to his face so he could rub their noses together, "You know how cute you are, don't you?"

Nowhere near as cute as Macaque was capable of being, that move there just about took Wukong out. He loved seeing him act all soft around the troupe.

The little rascal chirped happily before sending him a little cheeky side eye - clearly thinking themselves victorious. Oddly, all of a sudden he was over the cuteness.

He took the monkey out of Macaque's grasp and started to pick up any other stragglers, "Alright, I think it's time for everyone that's not me or Mac to get out of this room. You've all overstayed your welcome!"

He ignored their cries of outrage and unceremoniously dumped them out in the hall, making sure to make eye contact with the troublemaker that challenged him as he closed the door.

He dusted off his hands as he turned back around, "Now that's dealt with, where were we?"

Macaque had raised himself up on an elbow and teased, "I can't believe you kicked out the monkeys just so you could have your wicked way with me. When did you become such a deviant?"

He grinned as he made his way back to the bed, "I think we all know who the bad influence is here."

Macaque's face was a picture of faux innocence and Wukong didn't hesitate to crawl over him so he could show him everything said bad influence had taught him.

--M--

Wukong was very content with the way his and Macaque's physical relationship was developing. He had never been a monkey with a high sex drive but if he was honest the feelings of arousal or pleasure were nowhere near as important, or even as appealing, as discovering new ways to be close and intimate with Macaque.

It had taken a fair bit of convincing before Macaque finally seemed to accept Wukong was perfectly happy not to finish. And it wasn't even always just because he still felt bad about being the only one to do so, it just wasn't the point of doing this - he preferred it to be sensual rather than sexual.

He liked seeing and hearing how Macaque responded when he touched him, he liked exploring his body and whispering words of devotion against his skin. And he liked when Macaque did the same to him - it was just so easy to get wrapped up in each other and forget that the rest of the world existed.

It hadn't been a straightforward learning experience, both of them at times a little too keen to please the other or a little too reluctant to accept any reciprocation - neither a hundred percent on their own boundaries let alone each other's but they were figuring it out.

As a general rule, there was no touching below the belt, which Wukong could easily accept but Macaque would still occasionally try and convince him otherwise, whispering promises of how good he could make him feel if he would just let him.

He was in two minds about it.

On the one hand he had learnt how good it felt to be the one responsible for making someone else's pleasure, so Macaque would definitely not be getting nothing out of the experience but on the other hand, he'd built up this idea in his head that an orgasm was way too big a thing for him to be able to properly repay Macaque for.

And part of him knew that it was silly, as if an orgasm was the greatest gift someone could receive, but the longer he didn't let it happen the bigger a deal it became in his mind. He couldn't find a way to reciprocate in a way that had equal value so he just couldn't let Macaque do this for him.

Knowing this was the root of the issue however Macaque was not so easily deterred and he had tried a myriad of arguments or ploys to try and change his mind - some of which were definitely better than others.

One thing they had learnt from Macaque's attempts to convince him was that hearing him beg to service him was possibly the fastest way to turn him off. He could understand that plenty of people would have found that particular attempt very appealing but he couldn't even begin to express how bad it made him feel.

Macaque had thankfully noticed very quickly and everything had stopped so they could talk about it. Macaque had been a little surprised that he'd been so against it, not having quite realised how much Wukong hated him treating him like a king, even in jest. That certainly hadn't been a fun conversation but he was sort of grateful to finally have talked about it, even if thinking about the circumstances did embarrass him a little.

Macaque did however eventually hit upon the right strategy to get Wukong to cave, breaking off their heated make out session on the bed to sit tall upon his lap and all but demand that he be given what he wanted.

In any other setting, Wukong have been annoyed at the domineering attitude but damnit if Macaque didn't look good sitting in his lap as if it were his personal throne and looking down on him as if there was no outcome where Wukong didn't submit to his desires.

He had decided he did not want to closely examine why this was what apparently did it for him but he'd been able to do nothing more than gaze up at him in awe as he nodded mutely. The victorious grin he got in return had no right to be as attractive as it was.

He was fairly certain a hand job was not supposed to be such a euphoric experience but Macaque obviously knew what he was doing and with the well earned knowledge he had of his body, Wukong had been putty in his hands. He wasn't convinced he hadn't died as he lay in the afterglow.

He was quickly snapped out of it however when he realised that Macaque was intending to clean up the mess he'd made with his tongue. Face burning, he had trapped him against his chest with a strangled, "Don't you dare!"

Macaque had found this hysterical, even as he complained that now he'd gotten his mess on both of them. Macaque had been almost unbearably smug about his performance, and there was literally nothing that Wukong could say to bring him down a peg because it was undeniable how thoroughly Macaque had rocked his world.

He had made it abundantly clear that this wasn't something he wanted to happen every time though. It had been amazing, sure, but he still preferred the way they normally did things. Which seemed to puzzle Macaque a fair bit but he was amicable to it as long as he was no longer totally deprived of the pleasure of making him come undone.

Deprived... He was honestly a ridiculous person. But it did help settle his anxiety over not being able to reciprocate. This thankfully did not result in the opposite problem of being worried he now wasn't giving Macaque everything he should when they were together like this. He always let Macaque be the instigator for their more sexual entanglements but all he had to do was direct Macaque away from more "exciting" territory and he took the hint without complaint.

They were getting pretty good at telling each other if there was something they liked or something they would like to try but Wukong refused to voice how badly he wanted Macaque to drop his glamours. It wasn't just his ears or his eye or the magic burn marks he knew were there - all of Macaque's scars were hidden.

And it tormented him slightly that he couldn't explore Macaque's body properly, couldn't learn every inch of it like he wanted to. It'd been a while since they'd discussed their glamours and he had to resist the urge to revisit the subject. He wasn't sure why he felt so reluctant to bring it up. It just felt like he would be asking for too much.

But while he couldn't map out Macaque's real body as he would like, he was starting to get to grips with how best to apply his magic in ways that made Macaque sing and in doing so he felt he was starting to understand Macaque's own magic in ways he never had before.

Kissing and feeling Macaque's skin was almost more for his own pleasure than Macaque's, what really mattered when it came to making Macaque feel good was affecting the magic thrumming beneath the surface and as such he was hyper aware of any little changes in the flow of Macaque's magic.

He couldn't feel the sort of minute detail that Macaque could but that didn't mean he couldn't deepen his understanding of what he could feel and the best way to get magic to respond was with magic.

He'd learnt well before they had started experimenting in the bedroom that just directing more magic to his hands wasn't the key to helping Macaque get the most out of the experience, and sometimes it could just end up being uncomfortable if not actually a bit painful. A little fine control with focused intent was what garnered the best results.

He was still working on how best to direct and control his magic in more sensual situations and even if he did seem to hit on to something good, maintaining that sort of control was difficult even at the best of times, it was made all the more difficult when he was being distracted by Macaque's sighs and moans.

But he was both determined and talented - slowly but surely he was getting better at it. He liked to imagine that one day Macaque might feel ready to let him do even more with his magic, to let it sink into his body and interact with his own. To feel each other in a way that neither of them had ever experienced with another person.

But as heady a fantasy as that was, it was still a long while away from seeing the light of day and it was definitely something that they needed to figure out outside of the bedroom first, because he had no idea how to even really go about it and Macaque still struggled with him just casting spells on him.

But overall it was all moving in a positive direction and he was completely enamoured with their deepening intimacy.

Unsurprisingly, it was Macaque that suggested they take it a step further.

--E--

There was nothing to suggest that today's make out session was going to develop well past anything they had done before. It wasn't even a particularly handsy or exciting venture, there was no reason that today should be the day that Macaque broke their kiss to say.

"You should fuck me."

He thinks his mind might have stalled for a second before he came to his senses and reeled back, voice a little higher pitched than he would like, he got out an incredulous, "What!?"

Completely blasé, Macaque responded, "Ah. No. Wait, wait. Let me try that again. That's too crass for your tastes, right? I forgot you prefer more romantic euphemisms." In a sultry voice he tried, "Wukong, I want to feel you inside me. Oh, no, wait, I can do better still - I want you to make sweet love to me."

The swooning really wasn't necessary, although arguably none of his teasing was. But he wasn't wrong, he generally did prefer sweeter, less direct language and he was forever embarrassed by the fact. He blamed Zhū Bājiè, he wasn't sure how it was his fault, but his incessant talk of women must have played some part in why he was less fond of crude language.

But thoughts of his sworn brother had no place here.

Nowhere near as cool and collected as he would like to be, he exclaimed, "Now? Like, right now?"

Macaque's expression was one of pure amusement, "Now was when I was thinking, yes. Unless, of course, you were expecting to be wined and dined first? I think I know where to find some candles and rose petals if that's what you're worried about."

Obviously, it wasn't. But Wukong was realising while he had on occasion imagined what it might be like to with sleep with Macaque, he had never actually thought of how that happened. In his mind they transitioned from not-sex to sex so naturally without ever having discussed it but on reflection there was no way that was how it was going to go down. In fact, it was probably always going to be like this.

With Macaque being a little shit about it.

"I'm not worried about anything! You just caught me off guard! Isn't this something we should, like, talk about first?"

"Oh? What do you need to know?"

One day, he was going to have the upper hand in these situations, he swore, but unfortunately it wasn't today, "Like, I don't know, how do we do this?"

Macaque raised an eyebrow, mirth sparkling in his eyes, "Now I know you know how. That's the one part you've definitely got experience of."

He felt his face redden, "Obviously I didn't mean that how! I meant, how? Because I don't think either of us want a repeat of how we used to do things!"

God knows he didn't, it flew in the face of all the intimacy they'd carefully built together and was not at all what he imagined a proper union between the two of them could be. Not to mention, Macaque would never let him live it down if he couldn't do better than his younger self's monkey instincts.

Macaque snorted, "Yeah, no. That can stay firmly in the past. Well, how do you want to do it?"

"Me? Oh no, you're the one that brought this up. How do you want to do it?"

"You can just say you want to do it missionary. No shame in that."

He buried his face in Macaque's chest, "Ugh. Shut up. Why do you have to be like this? I'm embarrassed, you win, alright? Can we please just talk about this properly?"

Macaque laughed as he brought a hand up to gentle scratch at Wukong's scalp, "Yeah, alright. But I really don't care how we do it but if you have something in mind then let's do it that way."

He looked up at him, "Hold on. Before that, why now? What was so special about today?"

Macaque looked faintly amused, "Special? Nothing. I've been thinking about it for a while and this was just when it felt right to bring it up."

He scowled, "You just did it now to mess with me, didn't you?"

Macaque laughed, "I didn't but I can't say I'm disappointed with your reaction. That was great. But tell me, when would you have preferred I brought it up?"

If he was honest, there was probably no time or place where he would have been prepared but it was the principle of the thing. He pouted, "I don't know. It's not like it matters anyway. But... You want to do this, right?"

"That is why I brought it up. You not feeling as keen on the idea?"

A little awkwardly he admitted, "It's not that. I guess, I just don't really know how to... Obviously, I get the basics but, I don't know, just talk me through the plan here."

"The plan is pretty bare bones - you get us some lube, we figure out a position and get to it. I really don't know what else to tell you."

He frowned, "You're missing a step, aren't you? You need to prepare in some way, don't you?"

Macaque shrugged, "If pain was something I could feel then yeah but we'll be fine without it. Lube will be enough."

He pushed himself up so he could smack Macaque's arm and glare at him, "Just because you can't feel it, doesn't mean you can't get hurt. That is literally the last thing I want to happen."

Macaque just rolled his eyes, "Fine. Get me some lube and I'll sort it out."

Suddenly bashful, he averted his eyes, "Or, y'know, I could do it...?"

"Either way, we need lube, Wukong. You want to get on that?"

He sat up properly and tore out a hair in order to transform it. He held out the materialised product for Macaque's approval, "Is this ok?" He just wanted to make sure - it's not like he'd ever used his powers to conjure up such a thing before after all.

Belatedly, he realised Macaque couldn't actually see what he'd summoned and he started to read the back of the bottle. He had never really understood how his powers were able to work with so little information to give him such a detailed product - he didn't know what ingredients were supposed to be in this and yet here he was reading what seemed a very accurate ingredient list.

Macaque cut off, a little exasperated, "Somehow I don't think your powers have summoned something dangerous. As long as it's slick I think it will do the job. Are you sure you don't want me to do this?"

Holding the bottle a little defensively, he responded, "I've got this!"

Macaque just rolled his eyes and started shifting until he was lying on his front with a pillow under his hips, "Well, I'm all yours then."

He moved to straddle Macaque's legs and found himself a bit unsure how to proceed. He knew technically what he was supposed to do but... He coughed, "Maybe for the sake of absolute clarity, you can tell me exactly what you want me to do?"

Surprisingly patient, Macaque rested his head on folded arms, "Just lube up your fingers and start with one, when that can move easily enough add another and so on. If in doubt add more lube and take more time. We're in no rush. Foreplay is half the fun after all."

He could do this. He was great at everything! And he was not at all stressed out by the idea that Macaque wouldn't know if he was hurting him. He just had to take his time. He had unbelievable wells of patience. He could do this.

Fingers lubed, he set the bottle down close by, then rested his dry hand on Macaque's backside. He did appreciate the way Macaque's tail wrapped around his bicep comfortingly in response. He swallowed thickly before he started to slowly sink his first finger into him. Only to almost immediately pull it back out when Macaque hissed.

Panicked and concerned, he rambled, "Shit. Are you ok? What happened? Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to-"

Macaque's tail squeezed his arm tightly, "Stop freaking out. You didn't hurt me but you do need to get your magic under control. You may as well have lightning bolts of anxiety coming off your hands. What are you stressing out over?"

Oh shit. He hadn't been thinking about his magic at all.

Stupid.

"I'm sorry! I didn't realise- I- Shit."

With what surely must have involved shadows in some way he soon found himself more or less sitting in Macaque's lap, their faces inches apart, "Wukong, it's fine. I should have realised that feeling your magic inside me would be more intense than feeling it on my skin. You didn't hurt me. I just wasn't expecting it. Now, tell me what's wrong."

He went to bury his face in his hands before he remembered at the last minute one of them was covered in lube, "I just don't want to mess this up."

"I already told you I could do it."

"No, not that, I mean, yes that but I meant all of it!"

"What exactly do you think you're going to do wrong?"

He cringed as he admitted, "Mac, I'm so stressed I don't even think I can get hard."

Macaque hummed as he brought a hand to his chin, "Well, that would make things a bit more difficult." He didn't seem at all worried or upset about this though and after a moment he flopped back on the bed, dragging Wukong with him, who just about caught himself before crushing Macaque.

"Alright new plan. Forget about the sex. Back to kissing with the option to finger me while you're at it. If you're up for it."

Relief and shame warred within him, "You sure? You wanted to-"

"As established, there's nothing special about today. Why rush? There's clearly an element we didn't anticipate - let's figure that out first."

"You're not disappointed or something?"

Laying it on thick, Macaque responded, "Oh, you're right. I just hate kissing you and I absolutely don't want us both to enjoy ourselves. What was I thinking?"

"Alright, alright. I get it. Still, I'm sorry for... y'know..."

Macaque just rolled his eyes and dragged his head closer to his, so their lips were inches apart, "How about you make it up to me by showing me what those magic hands of yours can do?"

It was so easy to fall back into the familiar, to pick back up where they'd been before Macaque had suggested kicking things up a level, and as much as it settled his nerves it also stoked a fire within him. He could make Macaque feel good, he knew how to do that, he wanted to do that.

Passion bled into their kiss and he allowed his hands to wander, tracing over every inch of chartered territory, determined to make Macaque feel good. He refused to let him reciprocate, which normally would have Macaque not-so quietly amused but he was clearly enjoying his undivided attention too much to interrupt it with their normal banter.

He had perfect control over his magic, not even his own building arousal was enough to let him falter in his single minded pursuit to bring Macaque as much pleasure as possible.

He manoeuvred them both so he could still kiss Macaque and comfortably lay a hand on his backside, fingers creeping slowly towards unexplored territory.

He could do this.

His tail picked up the discarded bottle of lube, tipping it so it drizzled over his fingers and between Macaque's cheeks. Nerves were starting to make themselves known again but he tried to reason with himself. This was just like anything else they had done - he just had to take his time and pay attention to Macaque's reactions.

Don't even think about the sex that could theoretically follow. Just focus on feeling out what was happening right now.

Macaque squeezed his hip reassuringly and Wukong let their kiss lose some of their intensity for a moment to focus on the magic in his hands and the intent that influenced it - he wanted to make Macaque feel good, he wanted him to feel good because he adored him, because he loved him so much he didn't even know what to do with himself half the time.

When he started to sink the first finger into him, he was met with a gasp as Macaque broke their kiss to bury his face into his shoulder. Wukong paused but he didn't pull out, he hadn't sounded pained. He kissed the side of Macaque's head, "Talk to me, Mac. Ok? Not ok?"

A little breathless he responded, "Ok... Just intense. Anyway you could use less magic?"

He frowned as he concentrated, he wasn't actually sure he could, but he tried his best to draw magic away from his fingers while still maintaining control of what was there. He thought he must have been somewhat successful when Macaque slumped against him, "Yeah... Like that... Move?"

It was an odd feeling trying to move magic away from his hands, his fingers felt a little tingly, almost like they had pins and needles. It probably wasn't something he should do for hours at a time but as long as he had a reasonable baseline of magic still present it shouldn't be harmful. They could experiment and test it out a bit more another time.

For now, he focused on Macaque. On how he felt around his finger and on his reactions and both were reassuring him that he in fact would not have any issues getting hard if they chose to go any further than this. Once he felt confident that he had a good handle on his magic, he coaxed Macaque away from his shoulder so he could kiss him again.

Macaque was not someone that lost control very often but the desperate little sounds that occasionally escaped him coupled with the messy way he kissed him suggested to Wukong that he was probably a little powerless in the face of the sensations he was experiencing and it was a hard thing to resist falling into a similar haze.

He was a little torn over drawing this out for as long as possible and wanting to give him more and more to see how high he could bring him. But it was inevitably the former that he went with and it was only Macaque's prompting that got him to add more fingers. Each one required them to pause for a minute as Macaque adjusted to the additional magic.

He was aware that usually finding someone's prostate was supposed to make them feel good but he'd been thorough in his exploration and all that really seemed to pull a reaction from Macaque was how he used his magic and so tentatively he had started to experiment with it.

A particularly clever twist of magic had Macaque throwing his head back and gasping his name and when their eyes met, he knew that they both wanted the same thing. Far huskier than he intended Wukong asked, "How?"

Long past the point of teasing, Macaque kissed him before answering, "However you want."

He was sure Macaque was expecting him to lay him down as he had teased earlier and part of him was tempted - he'd be able to kiss him as pleased and admire every expression that crossed his face - it was definitely how he usually pictured this going but...

He carefully removed his fingers, gingerly wiping them on the bed sheets on a spot away from them before gently pushing Macaque to lie on his side and plastering himself against his back, "Like this...?"

His senses apparently returned to him at least a little, Macaque looked over his shoulder and commented, "Unexpected but I'm not complaining. You're sure?"

He knew this probably wasn't the most comfortable position for either of them, but he wrapped an arm around Macaque and pulled him tightly to his chest, nodding against the back of his neck, as he somewhat bashfully admitted, "I... I like holding you like this."

He couldn't really explain why he wanted it this way but he knew that he almost always craved for Macaque to be wrapped up in his arms or for him to be wrapped up in Macaque's.

Macaque brought Wukong's hand to his lips, kissing his knuckles chastely before affectionately calling him a sap. He tried not to let nerves start to build but he felt the need to ask, "You're sure about this? You really want to do it?"

Macaque responded by letting go of his hand and grabbing the bottle of lube and handing it to him, he sounded a little amused, "Yes, I'm sure. Yes, I really want to do this. And I know you do too."

He did. He really did.

He didn't give himself any time to doubt himself, slicking himself up efficiently before positioning himself at Macaque's entrance. He took a breath, and kissed just below Macaque's ear as he slowly pushed in. His hand quickly moved to grab Macaque's hip in order to steady himself.

Physically, it felt incredible but that wasn't what threatened to overwhelm him. Without involving their magic, this was the closest he could possibly be to Macaque and as he bottomed out, he squeezed his eyes shut and buried his head into the back of Macaque's neck as he willed himself not to cry.

He would never, ever live it down. But god, he loved him so much and he was so unbelievably grateful they could have this. That they'd gotten a second chance and this where it had led them? It felt impossible and yet against all odds they were here, together.

For a split second, he thought he had failed to keep it together but that sniffle hadn't come from him. He immediately propped himself up to try and get a proper look at Macaque's face, "Macaque? Are you ok?"

All he could really see was Macaque hurriedly wiping at his eyes, "Your fault. Fucking feeling so much. Tone it down will you?"

It surprised half a laugh out of him and he leaned his forehead on Macaque's shoulder, "I'm sorry but that's literally impossible."

He brought his hand up to rub Macaque's arm, "Are you alright though? It doesn't hurt?"

Macaque grasped the hand on his arm and pulled it down to hold it close to his chest, "It's intense. Really fucking intense. Doesn't hurt but just give me a minute."

He could have all the time in the world, Wukong was perfectly content right where he was. As he basked in the feeling of being buried in Macaque he realised he probably wasn't controlling his magic as tightly as he had been but admittedly he'd never actually had to manipulate the magic in his dick before.

A little awkwardly he asked, "Uh, is my magic too much? I could try and..."

Macaque's laughter was a little strained but it was genuine, "Not got the same control there as with your hands, huh? Go figures. It's fine. Go ahead and move."

He sort of didn't want to. He didn't want to lose any of the closeness they had. He kept his thrusts slow and shallow, almost trying to bury himself deeper without actually pulling out. And fuck it felt good but he almost didn't care about that, he wanted to figure out how to make it good for Macaque. He couldn't trust himself to mess with his magic like this and if he was being honest the thought of trying to manipulate magic where he was currently joined with Macaque was a little mortifying.

He found himself peppering Macaque's ear with kisses, unable to stop himself from whispering sweet little nothings into it which had Macaque trembling and quietly swearing in response. He choked over his reverent adulation however as one ear became three. His hips bucked unintentionally and it was hard to say whose gasp was louder.

"Fuck, Macaque..."

He didn't know if it was just his ears or if he'd taken all his glamours down but right now all he could focus on was the fact that he hadn't seen even this much of the real Macaque in centuries.

He wanted to take his hand back so he could feel them, so he could reassure himself he was actually seeing them, but Macaque tightened his hold the second he even tried it. He squeezed his hand reassuringly and gently began trailing kisses up the side of his neck towards his ears, giving Macaque plenty of time to tell him to stop.

But he didn't and Wukong tried to hold him impossible closer as his lips acquainted themselves with all three of his ears. It really struck him as he did so that sound was one of the only reliable ways Macaque had to perceive the world around him. Sound, magic and shadows. That was how he was experiencing them together right now.

He wasn't sure if it would work or even if it was a good idea but as he started up his litany of praise and adoration once more he spoke them as if they were an incantation, just the barest hint of magic behind every word but the effect was immediate.

A gasp and a strangled moan before Macaque let go of his hand so he could grasp Wukong's hair and pull him closer to his ears, as if he couldn't bear the thought of him even thinking of pulling away, of him stopping for even a moment.

This left his hand free to discover whether all of Macaque's glamours were down and as he felt along his chest and his abdomen he could immediately feel every scar that had been hidden away.

It was him. It was the real him and Wukong wanted to know every inch of him, wanted Macaque to never deprive him of all of him ever again.

Everything that wasn't Macaque was gone from his mind. All that mattered was filling his ears with words of devotion, mapping out every inch of his skin with hands and being as close to him as possible. He needed to know how much he loved him, how he couldn't stand to ever be without him.

He was vaguely aware of how heavily he was panting, of how urgently his hips snapped, of how close he was but it was all lost under a constant litany of Macaque, Macaque, Macaque.

He didn't think much of it when Macaque let go of his head to desperately hold his hand to his chest again, the sting of his nails cutting into his hand barely registering. It all came to a stuttering halt however at Macaque's desperate plea.

"Wukong! Stop!"

It took half a moment for the words to properly register but once they had, he all but froze, panting heavily as he pushed himself up to try and look at Macaque, "What's wrong? Are you alright? Macaque...?"

He had buried his face into the bed but Wukong could see how tightly his good eye was scrunched shut and he was bordering on hyperventilating. Wukong pulled out as carefully as he could but it still seemed to pull a small sob from Macaque. Alarmed, he tried to ask again what was wrong but words seemed beyond Macaque at the moment.

He still had a deathly grip on his hand however so he decided the best thing he could do was try and get him to calm down first. He tried to get his own breathing under control before trying to encourage Macaque to copy him, uttering reassurances between deep breaths.

After several stressful minutes, Macaque calmed enough to choke out, "Sorry. Fuck. I'm sorry. Too much. Couldn't handle it. I didn't-"

He immediately tried to soothe him, "Hey. Hey. It's ok. You absolutely don't need to apologise. I'm the one that's sorry. I should have realised- I'm sorry I-"

"Stop. Please. Don't- It was me. It's always me."

He couldn't let that fester, "That's not true! Macaque, you did nothing wrong. We just moved a little too fast. That's all. Everything is fine. We're fine. You're fine."

He couldn't deny that he was equally trying to reassure himself. But even if he was feeling immeasurably guilty, what mattered right now was Macaque.

Who had let go of his hand in order to push himself up and turn himself round. Wukong's breath caught as he finally got to see his unglamoured face properly. He was so enraptured he almost missed Macaque's intentions as he reached down and rambled, "I can still do this. It doesn't have to be a total disaster. I can still make you feel good. I-"

Wukong stopped him before he could get anywhere near touching his dick. Macaque was crazy if he thought that's what he cared about, "Macaque, that is literally the least important thing right now."

He sat up so he could bring his free hand to gently rest beneath Macaque's scarred eye and, voice choked with awe, he said, "It's you. It's really you."

He wanted to stare at his face forever, take in every little detail of how it had changed, to map it all with careful hands, to cup his ears and find out if they still faintly glowed. Beautiful was not a word that felt appropriate, but despite the roiling emotions he was feeling, in that moment all he could think was how blessed he truly was to be able to see him like this.

He let go of Macaque so he could bring his other hand up to gently wipe away the tears that were escaping his good eye, "Macaque..."

Macaque ducked out of his hold to bury his face against his chest and Wukong went with the motion bringing them both back to the mattress as he wrapped his arms around Macaque.

Macaque's distress was clear, "I wanted this. I wanted to be able to do this so badly."

He rubbed Macaque's back, trying to comfort him, "I know... We might still be able to. We just need to take our time, figure out how to make it work for us."

Macaque hiccupped as he responded, "I just wanted this to be something we could have. Without having to work around whatever I am now. Like we always have to. I just wanted..."

Wukong kissed the top of his head and hushed him, "I know."

"It was good. It was so good right until it wasn't and I just couldn't..."

It eased his guilt ever so slightly that Macaque hadn't suffered through the whole thing but the question of how long had he not noticed the shift ate away at him, he felt himself tear up slightly, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't notice. The last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt you."

His apology just seemed to make Macaque feel worse, "Wukong, it wasn't you, you didn't do anything wrong. Fuck, you wanted this to be something special and I ruined it."

He felt they were on the precipice of an endless spiral of blaming themselves for what went wrong and as much as he wanted to make Macaque see that it was his fault and to beg for his forgiveness, it wasn't helping either of them right now.

"You didn't ruin anything and it was special. It was more than I could have ever imagined - it was incredible, you were incredible. You are incredible. Emotions are just running a little high right now. I know we need to talk about it but right now all I want to do is hold you and never let you go."

Feeling overwhelmed with the feeling, he choked out, "I love you." He buried his head in Macaque's hair and held him tightly, "I love you so much."

Sounding equally emotional, Macaque responded, "I know... I love you too. More than I could ever tell you."

Very little was said after that with Macaque falling asleep before too long, clearly exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster, and Wukong knew he wasn't long behind him but even as tired as he was he couldn't help but lightly run his hands over the scars he could reach in this position, trying to commit all of them to memory before they were hidden away again.

The morning was going to bring some difficult conversations but as he slowly drifted off all he could think about was how grateful he was to have Macaque here in his arms.

--Chapter End--

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[praxcrown5]

Carstober Prompt #s 9 and 10: Poor Choice/Roadkill

"When I was a kid, I used to sneak out at night to race the main roads. It was dangerous--ALL racing is dangerous--but I was a young hot-rod with a chip on my hood. Bad things only happened to adults, and I was a kid with an engine that could put out 120 horsepower.

One night, after I'd spent the evening tearing up the back roads, I tried sneaking back into the house through the door into the den. Pa was home and, because of how big he was, he slept in the den with Ma. I knew Ma was still at the garage, working a double because the clinic wanted her to dissect a special engine.

Since Pa usually went to bed really early, I coasted down the driveway as quietly as I could, and I popped the latch using a set of tools that I'd made.

I opened the door...and found myself staring directly at his grille.

"Hud." He rumbled, looking down at me with severe brown eyes. "You snuck out of the house, again. From what your Ma has told me, that's the tenth time this month."

Despite him being five times my size, I wasn't intimidated. I glared back, and puffed myself up, defiantly. "Yeah, and?"

I thought he might yell, but instead he just stared at me, troubled. "Were you racing?"

"Yeah."

"It's dangerous, you know."

I snorted derisively. "Everything is dangerous, according to you and Ma." I pushed forward so that we were, effectively, bumper to bumper. "I bet if y'all had your way, you'd keep me locked up in the house, lest I scuff up my tires driving down Main Street."

Usually, being loud and aggressive would make most other cars back away. It was my defense mechanism, and it had worked wonders in and around town.

But Pa was unfazed. He held his ground and turned my push forward into an affectionate nuzzle. "Hud, I mean it. I've seen some pretty horrible things on my travels..." he sighed, and my arrogance sort of fizzled. "I...don't want anything bad to happen to you, is all."

I reversed a bit and glared at him, suspicious. "If you actually cared, you'd be home more often."

His expression shifted slightly. I could see that my statement hurt him, but, rather than yell, his shades drew down so that he looked both sad...and determined. "Do you know what a coal scraper is?"

Of course I knew what a coal scraper was. Everyone did. They were giant, feral scavengers that lived in the woods and traveled in herds.

I cocked a shade. What game was he playing?

"Long before my family started their lumber business, they would mine coal. It was hard work, and to make things easier, they domesticated coal scrapers to help collect and transport the resource to various camps situated throughout the woods. Once the mines were depleted, they released their dutiful beasts of burden back to the wild where they still roam to this day."

"So...what does this have to do with racing?" I asked, truly unsure where this was going.

"Coal scrapers still roam these woods. They're very, very hard to see in the dark, and they often use our roads as game trails."

I reversed a bit. "You mean...people hit them?"

He nodded.

"You've seen this?"

"Yes." He looked at me, shrewdly. "Most cars are robust enough to survive the collision. But coal scrapers are scavengers, and a disabled car lying broken and bleeding on the road is an easy meal."

I stared at him, unblinking.

"Good night, Son." He said, reversing slowly back to his usual sleeping spot.

I remember darting into the house, closing the door behind me and hurrying back up the ramp to my room where I hunkered under a blanket for two days, re-evaluating my life up until that point. His warning was one of the few things from that time that I truly took to heart.

And for good reason.

Two weeks later, I snuck out of the house to go racing with my friends. No sooner than we started down the switchbacks into Oracle Valley, than a Heard of Coal Scrapers crossed the road right in front of us. We barely stopped in time.

I think, had Pa not told me that story, we all would have been going a lot faster down those curves. And that little bit of caution...even if it was just a tiny voice in the back of my head, stayed my ego enough that I could live to drive another day." -- An Excerpt from "Recollections of the Hudson Hornet." Vol 2, pages 34-37.

[aconstantmonologue]

I just saw Wild Robot in theaters and I am absolutely enamored by every aspect of it.

[YAP SESSION WITH SPOILERS AHEAD]

There were so many beautiful lessons and themes in the whole film that it’s hard to just pick out and label them because doing so would disservice the film in its entirety.

-Roz: From the very start I felt such a strong connection to her. She never really ‘fits in’ anywhere, and faces isolation from those she wants so desperately to form a connection with. It takes her awhile to adapt and understand things outside of her ‘program’, and even then it’s a learning curve for her, change is difficult to process and understand. But eventually she gets to a point where she’s stuck at a crossroads, she still isn’t quite synchronous with the community around her, but they’ve begun to understand and accept her, and she knows that she would be out of place if she returned to her maker. Her love and care for Brightbill and Fink are difficult for her to express verbally, but she expresses through her actions, eventually getting the vocabulary she needs and yearned for. She took her programming, and used it to create a life she truly wanted, not just a husk of a being.

-Brightbill: I saw this film with my dad and my stepmom. My stepmom raised me, she is just Mom for me, but there was a moment where I didn’t understand why I never really got to spend time with my biological mother, and I held a lot of animosity surrounding that for a long time. Eventually I grew to understand that she wasn’t to blame, the situation was out of her control, she simply adjusted her sails to save me, becoming my Mom without hesitation even if it was difficult as first. She was the Roz to my Brightbill, and sacrificed so much of her time to learn and adapt to raise me, and now she has to watch me grow up and live a life of my own.

-Fink: I wasn’t expecting to like him as much as I did, I feel like fox characters tend to fall into a very specific mold and seem flat and under developed. But seeing his growth through the film was lovely. They made it clear that it wasn’t an instantaneous change. He went through lapses where he would self isolate his honest thoughts again, not even sharing them with Roz. But as he spends more time with Roz and Brightbill, he starts to grasp the fact that there are people who WILL care about him with no strings attached. And that he is allowed to get close to others and love them without the fear of it being transactional.

Disability Representation: I was not expecting this at all, and it may not have even been entirely intentional, but elements of this story spoke a truth that rang into my bones as a disabled person. When Roz loses a foot she adapts her surroundings to suit her needs so she can still navigate while training Brightbill to fly. Paddler even makes her a prosthesis to replace the section of the leg she lost. The isolation all three face from their peers for being different and out of place hit so close to home. Being isolated from others because you were “too odd” is something my family and I, and so many other neurodivergent people have experienced, and sometimes you start to lose hope on finding a community that will accept you, until you find them in the most unexpected places.

Going off of that, Brightbill being significantly smaller than the other geese and the criticism he faces for something out of his control was written so well. There are people who will write you, and your capabilities, off without question once they realize that you are disabled and ‘not normal’. He has to do considerably more work and put in more effort to be seen in an equal standing as his able bodied peers. That’s why I think the lesson he learns (along the lines) of “you can do anything I can do, even if it has to look different to fit you” was so important. Disabled people CAN and SHOULD be given the same respect and consideration as able bodied people, and the end result should be the object of value- not the accommodation it took to get there.

I have so many more thoughts but I will contain myself, I do want to see it again sometime soon though :]