#Extracting Stuck Key

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[jinusajas]

04/02/25; 07:25pm

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ you catch them pleasuring themselves ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

there was no way to get out of your business trip, and you had been away from home for close to two weeks now. you figured that sylus would have been busy with his own work with onychinus as well-

that he wouldn’t miss you as much as you missed him.

you came back to the n109 zone in the middle of the night, unable to wait until the morning. there was a reason behind your return home during these ungodly hours, and that was for the sole purpose of surprising your beloved with your early return.

entering the safe house, your heels clicked with a purpose across the marble flooring, with you unfastening them before tossing them aside as you made your way to your shared bedroom.

as you inched closer and closer to the door, you began to hear strangled moans, the sound causing you to rush forward when you peek through the door-

only to feel your mouth go dry in response to the scene settled in front of you.

on the bed was sylus with his back arched. wet sounds were heard echoing throughout the room as he fisted his hard cock within his hand, stroking it with such fervor that it made your knees clash together in response. from the way his breathing hitched and how his hand moved at a faster pace, it was clear that he was getting close to his release.

fueled by your desire, you swiftly enter the room, slamming the door wide open. sylus turns his head over toward the sudden sound, your name coming out of his lips in a drawn out groan, “am i dreaming, or is it really you, kitten?”

practically salivating at the mere sight of him, you move his hand away, allowing you to see his cock in its entirety before settling yourself between his legs. your eyes were eclipsed with darkness, tinged with lust as you gave his inner thigh a gentle kiss. “it’s me, sy, and i must say, you gave me one hell of a homecoming surprise.”

“i could say the same to you, sweetie.” with his hands lovingly gripping at your hair, you allow your fingers to trace the veins that surround his shaft. basking in the way you feel his cock pulsate in response to your soft touch, you give sylus a coy smile before surging toward him, taking in as much of him that you could fit into your mouth.

his response was immediate, hands further delving into your hair as he slowly guides you up and down his cock. the sensation of your hot mouth wrapped oh so sweetly around him was enough to make him nearly release-

and while you gave sylus the best reunion of his life, you were certain now that the onychinus leader had missed you just as much as you missed him.

unfortunately for you, zayne had been stuck at the hospital for a few days now, working overtime as he had been swamped with surgeries. your phone calls were always cut short while your texts had been left on read-

but you didn’t fault zayne for his lack of communication, since you knew how stressful his job was. so instead of further bothering him with your calls and texts, you left him alone (ignoring how hard it was for you to do.)

a few days later, you began to worry about your boyfriend and decided to cook and pack up a nice meal for him. you knew that he must have not been eating well due to the lack of time. you bringing him a nice, home cooked meal was just one of many acts of love you didn’t mind performing for your beloved doctor.

navigating through the halls of akso hospital with a practiced expertise, you head towards the floor that housed zayne’s office. as you neared the frosted glass door, you heard his groans coming from inside of the office, jostling the doorknob to find that it was locked. extracting the spare office key zayne had made for you, you quickly unlock the door while calling out to him-

“zayne!”

the rest of your words seemed to die against your throat, with your bag filled with food falling to the ground as zayne’s office door shuts on its own. zayne was settled back against his chair, his scrubs askew while his hair remained a tangled mess of ebony locks (appearing as though he had ran his hands through them).

yet perhaps what was more shocking was the sight of his pants pooled against his ankles while his cock was laid bare for all to see. you watch as beads of precum kept escaping from his cockhead, the sight of it all sending shivers down your spine when you take careful steps closer to him.

“hah… what are you doing here? aren’t you… m-mad at me?”

you shake your head in response, taking off your skirt and panties before settling yourself on his lap. pressing your aching sex against his erection, you listen to zayne’s hitched breathing before stroking the side of his cock with your slick heat.

he tosses his head back, hands gripping at the armrest while his eyes remain clenched shut. “i was never mad at you.” you admit to him with a soft mewl, feeling the tip of his cock continuously brushing against your swollen clit.

“but… you stopped calling and texting me- ngh!” you speed up your strokes, pressing yourself against his chest while allowing your honeyed arousal to coat at the underside of his cock. “hah… silly zaynie, i only did that to stop distracting you.”

he ends up gripping at your backside, “don’t ever stop texting or calling m-me, i need to hear your voice, honey.”

only when you promised to keep calling him did he finally surge forward, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss that swallows the rest of your moans.

were your eyes playing tricks on you?

or were you really seeing xavier, your usually calm and collected hunter boyfriend desperately rutting his hips against your pillow?

you had left for an extended amount of time, needing to attend a mandatory conference that was part of your job. sure, you and xavier kept in close contact through calls and texts throughout the month-

but you suppose it wasn’t enough to ease xavier of his desperation for you.

not wishing to interrupt him, you take a closer peak, finally noticing how he had one of your oversized shirt covering the pillow. his eyes were clenched shut each time he buries his cock between the mattress and the pillow, letting out tiny whimpers of your name in between thrusts.

unable to ignore the ache felt between your legs, you announce your arrival home by slamming the door wide open. “how cute… did you miss me that much, xavier?”

his eyes widen almost immediately, caught mid-thrust as his cock was hidden within the pillow once more. he lets out a low groan of your name, yet you were too focused on the outline of his cock straining against the pillow case.

“would you like some help?” you ask the philos prince casually, taking off your clothes as he tossed aside your pillow. he settles himself back in bed, grabbing you by the wrist once you were left bare for him as you land on him.

your legs were settled on either sides of his waist when you felt xavier gripping at your waist before slamming you down on his cock was a startling accuracy. you were unable to speak now, solely focused on the way xavier met your hips in an upward thrust, as evident of how much he had needed you this past month.

you enter your boyfriend’s luxurious home, softly calling out his name.

“rafayel? where are you?”

you go deeper into the house, frowning a bit when you heard several wet sounds coming from his studio. was he busy mixing paint for his latest commission?

stepping closer to the room the lemurian had made into his studio, you slowly open the door, about to call out his name when the sight of rafayel naked while settled on the couch makes you nearly stop breathing.

his groans and pants of your name echo throughout the room, with his hips rutting into what looked like a toy. his cock kept disappearing into the flesh colored toy, the squelching sounds of his cock pumping with a desperation into it filling you with a ridiculous amount of envy.

it didn’t matter that he was currently whimpering your name while fucking himself into the fleshlight-

only you should get the privilege of riding his cock.

“you’re so desperate and needy that you couldn’t wait for me?”

rafayel’s attention snaps back to you, eyes going bleary for a brief moment before smirking back at you. upon seeing you, he tosses the now useless toy aside, spreading his legs while further revealing his pretty cock to you.

with a come hither expression, you toss aside your clothes, remaining bare for him while eager to show him how it’s really done.

you came home from work a bit later than usual, returning to your shared apartment with caleb as you announced your return home.

as you take off your heals, you purse your lips at the silence that greets you. strange, caleb was usually home at this time, yet you heard no response from him.

“caleb?” you try once more to announce your arrival, stepping into the kitchen. your heart melts upon seeing your plate of dinner at the dining table-

yet your colonel was still nowhere in sight.

going deeper into the apartment, you saw that the light was on in the laundry room. feeling the excitement coursing through your veins, you knew that caleb had to be in the midst of washing your clothes, with you now tiptoeing toward the room in hopes of surprising him.

yet what you saw ends up taking your breath away instead.

his back was facing you, yet you could see how your hamper filled with your clothes was settled next to him. as you trail your eyes toward the ground, you realize that a bunch of your panties had been left on the floor, further accentuating your confusion.

you nearly jump back when caleb lets out a series of groans, his hands seeming to move rapidly against… something. stepping closer to him, you strain your head towards his front only to feel the heat blossoming from within your veins at the sight of caleb fucking his erection into one of your lace panties.

the flimsy fabric was wrapped securely around caleb’s hard cock, and he was stroking himself with the soft material. you must have made a noise since caleb immediately meets your gaze, magenta eyes now hidden by darkness as he lets out a groan of your name.

yet perhaps what was more sinful was how he didn’t stop his movements even when he was caught.

“ngh, hah, i would say it isn’t what it looks like, pipsqueak, but… hah… it’s hard to make up an excuse. you must think i’m pathetic, right?” you meet his gaze, noticing how his cheeks were stained a bright scarlet hue, yet instead of teasing him-

you end up helping him.

taking off your clothes, you climb on top of the washer and spread your legs for him, earning an almost feral look from your boyfriend. “come on, toss aside those ruined panties and fuck this instead.”

needing no further urging from you, caleb tosses the lace panties to the ground, allowing it to join with your other collections before surging forward. he captures your lips in a searing kiss, distracting you from the sight of his cock felt tracing at your outer lips before sliding within your heat.

he sets a rapid pace, bracing the palm of his hand against the washing machine as you felt yourself losing all of your senses-

succumbing yourself to caleb’s desperate lovemaking.

end notes: hhhhh the way i would just jump on all of their dicks immediately if i caught them 🙂‍↕️🤤

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[oaksgrove]

Midnight Cravings.

pairing: Husband!John Price x Pregnant!Reader

synopsis: When a midnight craving strikes, John Price doesn’t hesitate to throw on a sweater and slippers to make sure his wife gets exactly what she wants.

warnings: Pure fluff, pregnancy cravings, devoted husband Price, excessive tenderness, and a very serious approach to fast-food missions.

word count: 833

The clock on the bedside table glowed with unforgiving numbers—2:37 a.m. John Price groaned softly, shifting beneath the covers, barely clinging to sleep when he felt a gentle nudge at his shoulder.

“John.”

Your voice was a soft whisper in the dark, hesitant but insistent. His instincts kicked in before his brain fully caught up—his warm, calloused hand immediately found your thigh beneath the blankets, rubbing slow, comforting circles.

“What’s wrong, love?” His voice was thick with sleep, but concern edged through.

You hesitated, fingers fidgeting against your growing belly. “I… I think I need a McChicken. With extra bacon.”

For a moment, silence settled over the room. Then, a soft chuckle rumbled from John’s chest, deep and affectionate.

“Now?” he asked, voice still heavy with sleep, but his feet were already shifting, instinctively preparing to move.

“Now,” you confirmed, looking a little sheepish, but your resolve was firm. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about it. I swear I can taste it.”

John groaned dramatically but was already throwing off the covers, running a hand over his face before swinging his legs out of bed.

“You’re lucky I’d do anything for you,” he muttered, reaching for his sweater.

You watched him, grinning as he pulled it over his head. His mussed-up hair stuck out in places, and the sight of your rugged, battle-hardened husband looking slightly disoriented in sleepwear and dedication made your heart swell.

“You’re amazing,” you said as you slipped into one of his oversized hoodies.

John huffed, grabbing the car keys from the dresser. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you fed before you start listing my other good qualities.”

You smirked, following him out into the cold night. Little did he know—you had a whole list.

The car ride was peaceful, save for the soft hum of the heater and the occasional quiet laugh. You rested your head against the window, watching the empty streets roll past.

John’s hand rested comfortably on your thigh, his thumb idly stroking along your knee as he drove.

“You look like a bear,” you teased, eyeing his comfy sweater and slippers combo.

He shot you a sidelong glance, smirking. “A bear who’s about to hunt down a McChicken for his missus.”

You giggled, shifting closer to him. “My hero.”

He squeezed your thigh. “Damn right.”

At the drive-thru, John placed the order with military precision.

“McChicken with extra bacon,” he said firmly, as if coordinating an extraction.

The teenager at the speaker sounded amused. “And anything else?”

John turned to you, brows raised. “Fries? Milkshake?”

You nodded eagerly. “Fries and a chocolate milkshake, please.”

He relayed the request without hesitation, his voice calm and confident—as if this was the most important mission he’d ever undertaken.

When the bag was handed over, he gave a satisfied grunt, inspecting the contents like a seasoned professional. “There we go. Operation McChicken is a success.”

Parked beneath the glow of the McDonald’s sign, you curled up in the passenger seat, unwrapping your treasure. The first bite had you sighing in satisfaction.

John watched you, amused but utterly enamored, the warm glow of the dashboard lights flickering across his face.

“This,” you said between bites, your voice full of bliss, “is exactly what I needed.”

John leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, a soft smile playing at his lips.

“Anything for you, love.” He reached over, placing a warm hand over yours on your belly. “And for the little one.”

Your breath caught slightly, overwhelmed by how easily he melted you with just a few words.

You turned your hand in his, squeezing gently. “You’re going to be such a good dad, you know that?”

His smile faltered just a fraction, his thumb brushing across your knuckles.

“Hope so,” he murmured. “I mean to be.”

The depth of emotion in his voice made your chest ache. You leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his stubbled jaw.

“You will be,” you whispered against his skin. “The best.”

John let out a slow breath, his grip tightening on you, grounding himself in your touch.

For a moment, the world outside faded away. It was just the two of you, a bag of midnight fast food, a shared secret of anticipation, and the warmth of knowing that no matter what came next—you’d never have to face it alone.

As he started the car, he smirked. “Think we’ll be doing more of these midnight runs?”

You licked some sauce off your thumb, grinning. “Oh, definitely. Next time? Hot fudge sundae.”

John chuckled, shaking his head as he backed out of the lot.

“Christ, I’ve created a monster.”

You rested a hand on his arm, tracing absent patterns over his sleeve. “Yeah, but she’s your monster.”

John huffed a laugh, bringing your hand to his lips for a slow, lingering kiss.

“And I love her for it,” he murmured.

As you drove home together, his fingers laced through yours, you knew one thing for certain—this wouldn’t be the last time.

taglist: @honestlymassivetrash

[luvwestwood]

❝ SAVE A COW, MILK THE ...!? ❞ - Choso Kamo

— (18+) .. SEEMS LIKE THE LOCAL MILKMAN HAS A DIFFERENT TYPE OF MILK IN STORE FOR YOU.

ᯓ★ warnings. (18+), milkman! choso, msub to mdom, overstimulation, titty jobs, p in v, resolved sexual tension, oral (m rec), squirting, slow burn, praising, slight? creampie, suggestive language and actions

ᯓ★ notes. I made choso soo whiny in this I fear.. please beware, there is a LOT of irony in this LMAOO.. plus I need him real bad I think u can tell, anyways hope u all enjoy, this was my 1.4k gift <3

4,862 words (17m read)

please check out and support the actual artists piece on twt!/ig, - @/iamdebruh! + art (center of heading) is by @/yunonoai on twt.

Eggs, sugar, heavy cream, flour, vanilla extract and.. and..?

You analyse the countertop carefully, eyes flickering over each ingredient you had pulled out of the grocery bags less than a minute ago.

"Let's try this again.." Sticking a finger out, you point at the produce one by one, performing a routine of a silly head-count. "Okay- eggs, sugar, heavy cream, flour, vanilla extract and…" Your index finger lands on an empty space that was yet to be filled, and finally, it registers into that brain of yours.

"Oh, how could I possibly forget the milk?!" You cry out in pure distraught, scanning the other countertops in hopes of accidentally misplacing it somewhere instead. Pretty useless though, as no sudden miracle was to be found anywhere.

Groaning, you bury your face into the palm of your hands— mentally cursing at yourself for forgetting one of the vital ingredients for the cream pie, how could you?

Hissing as you pace around the kitchen, you open the fridge with brutal force, head close enough to imploding as you rummage inside for a drop of milk to be found.

"There's no way I'm making a second trip. Not with these gas prices." You whisper to yourself, drawing your head back from being stuck deep inside the fridge, using the curve of your ass shut the doors.

Nibbling on your fingernails, you take one more glance at the ingredients on the counter; contemplating whether you should head back, give up fully and try another day, or….

ding dong!

Hand on hip, your head darts to one side, towards the sound of the doorbell. Who could it be?

Dragging your feet to the front door, you reach over by your side to the console table; digging your hands into the glass bowl for your keys.

Another knock sounds from the door, a deep voice speaking from behind it. “..Delivery!”

As you fiddled with the lock, you glanced over to the clock on the wall; reading exactly half past four in the afternoon. You weren't expecting anyone, really. You usually kept to yourself on Fridays, just to relax from a week’s worth of busy work.

Taking a swift look into the peephole, you could only see the glass covered with white— it seems that whoever is outside is clearly blocking the view.

The door opens widely, revealing a familiar figure you tend to see a few times each week— the milkman. You take note of the few beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, unable to be hidden by his cap. Did he.. run here?

Dark brown hair, tickling the top of his shoulders; cap embellished with "Milkman" just before the brim. Covered in white, bar his black pants. You recall that he goes by the name Choso, a piece of valuable information you managed to pull out of him during an interaction only a few weeks ago.

You must admit, your milkman was quite decent looking for someone with a position like his, and the cute bow tie encircled around his neck depicted him to look sweet and dandy. Wait, there's no way I'm swooning over my local milkman right now.

"Oh, Choso- How could I forget?!" You chirp, seems as if he came at the most ideal time you could possibly think of. "What a coincidence, just in time for my cream pie!"

His biceps scream against the fabric of his short-sleeves, begging to be let out as he tightens his grip around the neck of the glass bottle. "I-in time for your what?" Ears painted with a tinge of red, he looks shocked, more on the flustered side.

Letting out an anxious giggle, you point back behind you with the use of your thumb. "Sorry- I meant I was just about to bake a cream pie right now, and I realised I forgot the milk." Looking over your shoulder, then back at him, he smiles back; clearly flustered over the misunderstanding.

"R-right, I apologise, it's been a really long day.." He hands over the bottle, slightly crouching down to pick up his carrier that rested at his feet. "You're actually my last delivery today, they let me off early cause of the work I've done this week."

Holding the door open with your foot, you carefully place the jug on the same console table behind you, smiling to yourself as he went on a tangent about all the things he had accomplished this week— as if he was expressing genuine content rather than boasting.

"Well someone has been a good boy this week, huh?" You innocently beam at him, Choso's knuckles growing white as he clenched the carriers handle. He seems appreciative of the comment, but looks as if he wasn't used to receiving any.

"..Yeah.." Diverting his gaze away from you, he decides to stare down at the top of his shoes, until something you say has his eyes darting back up at you in a split second. The air so thick with tension, the two of you suddenly stay silent.

Humming before you speak your words, you ponder and wonder if your offer was a bit out of line. "..Would you like to come in for a bit? I could really use some help in the kitchen," Not hearing an immediate response from him, you add on, "You could have some of my cream pie afterwards. It would be a workout going down all those steps again, I assume!"

Choso reaches a free hand behind his head, scratching at his nape in contemplation. He knew that you were referring to the endless flights of stairs that were nothing but a nuisance to him as he tried to get to your apartment.

The fact that you had been the only customer in this entire apartment block, didn't have any effect on him though— as it was you he was looking forward to see each time he's out on the job.

Each time he dropped the same jug of milk at yours, only meant that his low lying interest in you would continuously grow, to the point that he couldn't think of anything else, but you. The man was whipped.

He wanted to get to know you better, but couldn't muster up the courage. He felt as if there never an appropriate time to do so, and the fact he landed a job as milkman, the guy assumed that you thought of him very little.

“I.. don’t know if I should..” He mumbles, anxiety and hesitation written all over his face— so easily read.

You roll your eyes, now leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, Choso slightly taking a step back to refrain from crossing a certain line with you so up close. “Come on, it’s not like I’ll get back to your boss with this!”

Crashing at yours for a bit meant that he'd finally have the opportunity to spend some time with you. Little steps, am I right? He couldn't miss out on something like this. Only a fool would do so.

"..I-I'd love to help you with your cream pie." He blurts out, lips parted due to solely being mesmerised. The two of you gawk at each other for longer than intended, but it doesn’t allow things to turn awkward. Was it the choice of words? The tone? What was it, really?

You blankly stare at him for a second longer than he did, nodding in approval. You had very little hope in him actually saying yes. "..Alright, come in." Beckoning at Choso, you step aside, noticing how he hesitates for a moment, just before he enters at his own will.

You watch as he walks further into the apartment, stopping considerably at a point just to not go out of bounds.

Your own eyes trail down his back, surprisingly so broad, that was now facing you. Having to peel your gaze away, you safely lock the door, dropping the key back into the dish beside you.

Grabbing at the jug, you make your way past Choso; taking yet another glance behind your shoulder for reassurance, just to see him trailing behind you like an obedient puppy.

"Make yourself feel at home, don't be shy!" You remarked, stepping around the kitchen island as you gathered the ingredients back onto the counters; Choso stopping just by the stools in front of you. He seemed all quiet and timid, even doing a double take before he decides to place his carrier on a stool beside him.

He sets aside his cap, politely tucking it away into his carrier before calling for you from across the island. “So.. Is there anything I could help with..?” Extremely eager to assist you in your endeavours, he found it so absurd that he was literally with you, right now, in your own apartment.

“I’m okay for now, just relax for the time being.” Your tone reassuring, you continue your current task as soon as you flash him another smile.

Swiftly putting some ingredients into a bowl, you still occasionally glance up at Choso— the second time round, you didn't even notice that he was already situated beside you, his hands gripping at the edge of the counters as he watched your every move.

"..Hmm, you ever made a cream pie, Choso?" You blurt out, carefully sieving the flour into yet another bowl. You must admit, your words intentionally had a different meaning to them. It was funny, and you knew he would flip out; his burning gaze at the side of your head being unavoidable.

His cheeks flash hot, words stumbling after one another. "I uh, haven't, no.." His voice growing small, you were right in thinking that he thought of a different kind.

Choso mentally argued with himself for doing so, as now wouldn't be the best time to feel his cock strain against his pants. He had to immediately swat the thoughts away, as they were already tight enough. "..Have you?"

His sudden reply had your sieving come to a halt as you slowly looked up to him next and you; just to see that he was still doing the same. Staring into his eyes, you try to think of an answer, swallowing the lump in your throat in the midst of it all.

"..No, I haven't." Your words come out in a whisper, noticing how his eyes alternate between yours and your parted lips. "I've never made one.. It's my first time today." Blinking slowly, you grow timid, your eyes making its way back to the bowl.

Resting your two hands flat down on the counter, Choso's breath hitches— his finger reaching down towards your chin. Guiding you to properly look up, he slightly crouches down to close the space between you two, and in a split second, your lips latch onto each other.

Eyes squeezing shut, you melt into the kiss, wrapping both arms around his neck to bring him closer; Choso letting out a subtle grunt as he hesitates about where to place his hands.

"I.. wanna touch you,” Resting his forehead against yours, his voice trembles, finishing with a helpless crack. Choso was practically begging you, and something about that just had you over the edge. "You don't know how much I've been wanting this.. I need you.. please..”

And he wasn’t lying. He wondered how your soft skin felt to his touch. He always wondered whether he would ever be able to have the chance to make you feel good.

Breathing heavily against his lips, you just nod hysterically, and in less than a second he slithers both hands under your ass, hoisting you into his embrace as he gently places you on the counter beside.

Your lips crash onto each others once again, Choso feeling up and down your body, his demeanor showing how much he's been wanting this for ages. He couldn't even believe it himself. You? Allowing him to have you? Is he dreaming?

A mewl escapes your lips as he cups your face into his hands, his ticklish kisses eventually moving down to your neck, the way he touches you seem so tender, and genuine, Choso didn't want to rush anything. He wanted to savour you.

He anchors himself between your legs— chest heaving so intensely from pure excitement. Meanwhile, you strip your top off, Choso swallowing a lump as he processes the fact that you had nothing else underneath this whole time.

He wastes no time, eagerly latching his mouth onto a breast, groaning as he firmly shuts his eyes, tongue relentlessly swirling around your nipple. His free hand fondles with the other as you comb your fingers through his hair, caressing it gently to let him know he's doing a good job.

You let out a string of breathy moans, a pop sounding from his mouth as he lets go. Pausing for a moment, you try stabilise your breathing, confusion written on his face.

"The sofa," You pant, Choso doing more so the same; his brows furrowed in despair as he yearns for more of you. "Let's move to the sofa.."

And he nods, beckoning you to wrap your legs around his torso once again, your arms being used as support to cling to him. You rest your head against his chest for a split second, allowing you to hear the ecstatic pace at which his heart was going at.

His feet stops just before the sofa, giving you the opportunity to drop back down, in which you suddenly grab his hand and pull him along. Choso seems perplexed, until you gently push him down onto the sofa by the chest, and he could do nothing but stare at you in pure adoration.

"Just relax yourself, okay?" Your voice soft, you kneel after he nods obediently, more than happy to agree with whatever you say.

You don’t dare look away, fingers toying at his belt buckle; which soon enough you end up undoing. Choso was about to lose his mind, and it took a lot in him to not leak right here, right now.

Tugging on the waistline of his pants, the man shifts his hips around to allow for more leeway. His mouth remains open as quiet, irregular huffs slip out, so eager to experience the very next thing you'll be doing.

Stopping as soon as his pants met his ankles, you smile, noticing the wet spot that had formed on his boxers— your hand gently rubbing up and down his protruding bulge. A whimper chokes out of him as he shuffles around a bit more, causing him to bite down on his bottom lip to suppress any more moans. He was too afraid to admit that anything you do has him melting.

All he could do was look down at you between his legs in bliss. Choso just couldn't believe it, and this was definitely not how he expected to end his evening.

His boxers follow after his pants, feeling him shudder under your touch as he comes into contact with the cold air. You shift around upon seeing his throbbing, leaking tip; not letting anymore time pass as you wrap your mouth over it, your satisfied humming sending vibrations to and through him.

Looking up to observe a reaction, Choso only slaps a hand over his mouth, groaning into it as his face returns to the same, crimson red; his other hand shaking as he tries to rest it on the back of your head.

Your head bobs up and down, cheeks hollowing and a free hand kneading at his balls for extra stimulation— Choso endlessly whimpering into his palm as his head falls back into the cushions, eyes eventually closing as he floated around in a pool of pleasure.

Buckets of spit trickled down your chin as you continued sucking him off, Choso squirming in the seat from time to time, his legs unable to stay still. You decide to take another peek, looking at him one more time, and thought to yourself; he seemed cute with the bowtie still on, his actions causing a flutter in your abdomen.

"Mmh," Muffled, as he was too busy suppressing a loud moan, he gives up, hand leaving his mouth to grab onto the sofa behind him. His other free behind your head tightens its grip, Choso suddenly fucking his hips up from the sofa, his teeth gritting as helpless grunts try to slip out. "Cu.. I'm gonna.. Uh.."

Your two hands suddenly place flat onto his thighs as he fucks into your throat, Choso's array of whines intensifying as he feels his balls contracting constantly, his face so warm to the touch.

So helpless, his two hands sets its place into your scalp, Choso bottoming his cock into your throat as he lets out a lengthy moan as a familiar feeling he had never felt washes through his body.

Tears welling up in your eyes, you mentally note to yourself to continue breathing through your nose, Choso’s prolonged groan causing a pool between your legs. You feel a rope of warm fluid shoot down your pipes, your hands repeatedly slapping at his thighs for a sliver of air.

His head hauling back down, he didn’t look the same as he did a few minutes ago— Choso’s eyes low and dark as he pulls you off his cock, a questionable grunt coming from him as he takes note of your fucked up face.

He tried his best not to laugh as you shot him a deathly glare, and of course failed. His smile fades, turning into horror as he watches you slide his cock in the midst of your cleavage, lip quivering as you drop an orb of your own spit on his tip that was slightly peeking out.

Choso’s hands grip at a cushion nearby on the sofa as you began to clamp your breasts together around his cock, moving them both up and down— throaty whimpers instantly emitting from him as you reinforced the stimulation on his still sensitive girth.

“Nghh—,” He cries out, mouth left gaped as he felt yet another foreign knot forming in his stomach; somehow identical to what he felt before orgasm, but just stronger.

“It’s too.. too much,” His words come out in a whisper, Choso’s let’s stamping the sides of your arms as you were anchored between them— his whiny voice trembling as he felt yet another impending orgasm that was about to hit him even harder.

A devilish smile plasters onto your face as you occasionally stuck a tongue out to chafe over his throbbing tip, Choso only able to let out deep grunts this entire as he occasionally looked down at you in a state of euphoria.

“Agai-n, I’m.. cum..” Incapable of finishing a sentence, his tit engulfed cock twitches, much thicker ropes of white shooting up into the air, dropping back down into your chest as it splatters droplets everywhere.

Choso’s head feels heavy at this point, his eyes lazily scanning his surroundings as he spots you decorated with the white drops that somehow managed to make its way to your face too.

Getting back to his senses, he attempts to sit up, legs still weak but with enough strength, his first instinct was to tend to you; the same hands clawed in your scalp making its way back to your cheeks as he kissed you so lovingly, his teeth nipping at those lips that were wrapped around his cock a few minutes ago.

Him being the first to pull always, it seems Choso has a request of his own. “..Get on the sofa,” he instructs, no sign of a stutter left to be heard within his words.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you beam a sinister smile as your aching knees rise off the ground— followed by you throwing yourself onto the sofa beside him.

You watch as he slightly jerks his cock, his eyes watching you take your turn obey orders. Raising your hips slightly to make things easier, you stripped the last of your garments; kicking away your underwear to the other side of the room.

Choso mirrors your actions, kicking off his shoes and trousers as he follows with his knee settling between your legs. You look up and survey his every move as his fingers yank at his bow tie, loosening it overall— his hands still trembling as he attempts to undo all buttons of his shirt.

You giggle, reaching down playfully toying with yourself as you place a foot on his bicep, shamelessly exposing your pussy even more to him as he peered down at you in utter silence.

Finally stripping away his shirt, the bow tie keeps its place and hangs around his neck— your impatient self subtly grinding against his thigh— your slick evidently leaving a mark on his skin.

“Just fuck me, Choso..” You whisper, sticking a finger into your leaking hole that has been that way ever since you made out with each other. Your words examined his ability to maintain his composure, Choso felt that it was time you did the things he wanted you to do.

His breathing hitches, Choso sucking in a breath as he leans in closer, as he guides the tip of his cock to align with your hole. An unoccupied hand grabs your legs, hoisting both on each of his shoulders.

Folding you into a mean mating press, your arms encircle his back, your moans tickling the shell of his ears as he slid himself in— throaty grunts also sounding from him.

Choso begins to move his hips slowly, your mouth gasping at his girthy cock stretching you out completely— his face buried into the crook of your neck as his hot breath fanned against your skin.

“Faster.. faster Choso..” You plead, his hips immediately snapping into you at a faster pace, his lowly grunts returning to the familiar whimpers as your gummy walls wrapped around his entire length. Feeling him in your gut, you chant his name like a prayer, Choso doing his best to fuck you in all the right spots.

A loud moan slips past your lips, your manicured nails scratching at his chiselled back like a kitty and it’s scratch post. As he fucked you into the sofa, something similar to a growl was heard from him as you dragged your nails down his entire back; surely leaving an evident trace of you behind.

Seemingly not enough for him, he uses his knuckles by your sides to prop himself up- Choso grabbing your ankles into the grasp of one hand and pushing them down further and infront of him this time.

On the verge of losing his mind, Choso’s hips brutally fuck into you, his cock deeper than ever— a white, creamy ring forming at his shaft.

His heart races at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you down below, Choso almost hypnotised at the sights as if he were eyeing a pendulum. His hand lets go of your ankles, grabbing for the edge of the sofa above your head— cock drilling you mercilessly into the cushions.

You mewl and whine, utilising maximum strength to keep your eyes open and hold a good view of Choso, his free thumb reaching down to swipe a stripe on your cheek as he coos a few praises at you.

The position you were in as of now had been churning both of your minds, Choso admittedly finding it difficult to continue fucking into you as he was about to cum at any given moment.

“Fuck,” he sucks in a breath through clenched teeth, eyes looking into yours as he studied your facial expressions, “So pretty,” Your cheek eventually fits into his palm as he fluctuates the pace at which he was fucking into you— nothing but satisfaction and adoration to be seen in his eyes.

His hips rut into your hole slow and deep, your hands grabbing at his wrists as you felt him bullying your cervix— cock endlessly rubbing between your walls, tip seldomly hitting against your sweet spots.

The legs of the sofa creak against the floor boards, eventually beginning to scoot itself to another side of the room. You couldn’t care less about consequences you might face with the downstairs neighbours tomorrow.

Strands of his hair stick to his forehead and temples, your fingers hooking around the strap of his necktie to pull in him closer, your lips yearning to have his on yours.

Your walls uncontrollably clench around his length, Choso’s head falling back in bliss; his mouth emitting short, overwhelmed breaths for a few seconds.

Your tits press against his chiselled chest as he fucks you silly, almost as if it was payback for treating him like he was clueless. Did you really think he’d let you boss him around?

Choso’s leans down once again, mouth sucking and leaving marks all over your breasts as he feels himself coming to one of his many orgasms today— buckets of sweat glistening over his physique like a glossy finish.

You grab at his bicep, slapping it repeatedly to give him notice of your impending orgasm— Choso planting a wet kiss on your lips to quickly swallow the ‘O’ your mouth had formed.

He instantly slides his cock out of your hole, taking his length into his fist as he pumps himself slow. His fingers fan over your clit as he ushered you to orgasm and make a mess, so desperate to have you cum all over him. Alternating between sticking his middle and ring finger inside, Choso curls his digits up as he jerks his fingers inside of you.

Your head peers down to see his forearms flexing with his every move, your eyes rolling to the back of your head; squelching noises coming from your pussy.

“Don’t…don’t do that-“ Your brows furrow, lips returning to its O shape as you attempted to hold his wrist as he continued to curl his fingers into you. He knew what he was doing. Choso wanted to make you squirt.

His pleas fucking your mind to an extent, it felt like a mixture of bliss and torture— your eyes struggling at this point to remain open.

“..Come on,” He urges, so needy as he strokes his cock as in-front of you as he watches how you unravel underneath him; Choso slapping his heavy length on your inner thigh whenever he has the chance. “Come on pretty, let go—“

“O-oh, Choso—“ You squeal, fingers reaching and scraping at his pelvis as he got back at you for fucking him up to overstimulation. Your nipples sore and perky, he had to resist the urge to suck on them again.

He spits out his words closely together, pressing his forehead against yours for the second time as you peered your eyes up into his.

“Come on, come on- that’s it,” Choso cooing at you as you released your juices all over his fingers, a sob could be heard from you as a hot flush rushes through your body.

His hand absolutely soaked as he pulls out, Choso nonchalantly wraps his mouth around his fingers, sucking on your slick— his saliva mixing in with the shining fluid that covered his hands.

Pulling you closer to his pelvis by hooking his two hands around your thighs, Choso slips himself back into your hole— your inner thighs soaking with juices.

A mutter of curses under his breath, Choso absolutely loved your warm walls taking his cock whole, his girthy length moving with ease due to the present slick.

Choso was on the verge of losing his mind once again as he realised that he literally got you to squirt less than a few seconds ago, his cock desperately throbbing all over again.

His cock fucks in and out of you, this time cautiously slow as he made sure not to cum inside of you— your clenching walls making it a difficult task for him.

Too sensitive, Choso pulls his cock out with haste, slapping his tip against your clit as he released his own load just outside of your pussy. His entire face flooded with rouge, cock profusely leaking; his grunts in synchronisation with his throbbing balls.

With the use of his tip, Choso pushes the load back into your hole, his cock completely stilling inside for the time being.

Your mind in a daze, you let out a sigh, Choso’s hand caressing up and down the side of your legs as he remained anchored between them.

“We literally just fucked off with the baking. Went and did a whole other cream pie…” You scoff, hanging your head off the sofa, an upside down view of your kitchen filling your vision— everything still left exactly how it was on the countertop.

Silently laughing, Choso takes your leg into his grasp, his head turning to the side as he plant a kiss on your calves. Bringing a hand down to your hole, he stuffs a digit or two in, scooping a few beads of his cum allowing it to coat his fingertips before moving his hand closer to your lips.

“..Milk delivery,” Choso chimes, mimicking his first words from outside your door earlier.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 . all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not repost on a third party platform.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me. ily all soo soo much!

[luvwestwood masterlist]

[witherby]

The long-awaited next part is here! It's not my best work 😔 be gentle in your criticisms.

Flight of Fancy, part 4

Masterlist is Here!

"Ah, sorry —" Clark apologizes over the comms line when day breaks, "I'm actually in Russia doing search and rescue after a natural disaster. Won't be back for hours. You could try calling Lantern?"

"He's off-world right now." Damian slumps into the chair in front of the bat computer and resists the urge to rub his temples. "Thank you anyway, Superman. You can go back to what you were doing."

"Alright, stay safe!" Clark says, then cuts the connection. Damian punches a few keys and the screens of the Batcomputer go dark. He leans back in his chair and rubs his face, irritated and exhausted. After dealing with the shit show that was Jason scolding him for "tonguing" a victim — which was not his fault! You kissed him, not the other way around! — and then bullying him into coughing up more money than necessary to take his hoodie to a dry cleaner, a headache bloomed and has been steadily worsening with time and sleep deprivation.

He's been up for almost twenty-four hours, now, and called most flight-capable contacts at his and his father's disposal to no avail. Nobody is available for your extraction, and Damian can't let you, an undocumented and uncategorized meta, go off by yourself lest you either get recaptured or end up committing a villainous act without supervision.

So you're stuck in the cave for a full day, until everyone comes together for patrol in the evening to clear the rogues out the metahuman outpost and get you safely moved out of Gotham.

Damian spins in the seat and looks at where you're balled up on the floor. Or, rather, he's looking at your wings, fully extended and wrapped around you like a cocoon. He watches the puddle of feathers gently and silently rising and falling with your dozing breaths after you refused a bed and curled up like this three hours ago.

Cute, he thinks, standing up and stepping quietly around your figure. He slips his fingers underneath the domino mask to rub the grit from his eyes, then messages Alfred requesting two breakfast trays be brought to the cave whenever he has the time. They're delivered half an hour later, the quiet rattling of the butler's cart rousing you again.

"Sorry to disturb you, dear," Alfred says, watching your head poke out and you blink groggily at the food. Damian takes the trays from him with a nod of thanks. "Might either of you require anything else whilst I'm here? I'm happy to check on your stitches."

You shake your wings out as you stand and then carefully tuck them against your back, glancing at your shoulder. The bandages are slightly stained gold, the wound disturbed from how hard you'd shoved Jason back earlier.

You look to Robin for guidance. He gives the bandage a similar once-over, then clicks his tongue.

"That might be wise. Agent A won't hurt you," he promises. "You can trust him."

Alfred bows and offers his hand for you to shake. You grasp it a touch too firmly and just hold it in place for a few seconds, but he just smiles and excuses himself to fetch some supplies from the med bay. While he's gone, Damian carries both trays to the table near the center of the room, placing them down and taking a seat.

"You can come eat," he says. You sit and look at your offerings — buttered wheat toast, two poached eggs, a couple strips of turkey bacon, and a glass of orange juice — with no change of expression. "Something wrong?"

"No," you say, "I just... can't eat this."

"If it's a matter of diet, we can find you something else —"

"I apologize," you gently interrupt, "I mean to say, I don't eat. I don't need to."

Damian pulls the notepad, crinkled from the earlier confrontation with Jason, out of his pocket and jots that down.

"How do you get energy, then?" He asks. You shrug.

"I rest. Other than that, I need nothing."

"That is a shame," Alfred says, returning with some fresh bandages and a small bottle of saline to keep the wound clean. You don't protest when he asks to remove the old gauze. "Should you find yourself curious to try a nibble, I hope it might please you. I am also available for anything else you might require — new clothes, perhaps."

You perk up at that. You dislike the gaping tear in your sleeve, so a replacement robe would be nice.

"Yes," you reply. "Please. What do you require in exchange?"

"Nothing but your measurements, so I can make sure it fits correctly."

You nod, acquiescing to whatever is needed. Alfred pulls out a tape measure and, with your consent, notes your size and approximately how much fabric space you'll need on your back to accommodate your wings. Damian finishes eating by then, so he retrieves the trays and leaves with another bow and a promise to be back in a couple of hours with new clothes.

"Robin," you say, when Damian gets up to go back to the computer. He looks at you intently. "I know I cannot leave this place, but is there somewhere...bigger that I can fly?"

He frowns, shaking his head. "The cave system is mostly long, not wide. It doesn't get much bigger than the part we're standing in."

Damian turns and points to his left, to a dark corridor just beyond the Batcomputer.

"If you don't break anything and keep away from the bats, you can fly around as long as you want. The pathways split off in different sections and levels, but they all lead back here to the center of the cave."

He looks at you again, hand on his hip.

"Does that suffice?"

Well. It's not open air where the breeze can rush through your wings and you can admire the sky overhead, but it's something and you are restless. It'll have to do.

Wordlessly you extend your wings, feathers shaking themselves out as you stretch the limbs, and you take off.

Damian sinks into the chair in front of the computer again, pressing a couple buttons to reawaken the screens. He glances at the roster of available allies and feels his headache intensify when there's no change. Still no help for now. Still stuck in the cave, watching over you and not getting any sleep.

He leans back and rubs his eyes under the mask again, lids drooping. Damian can't hear any wing flapping, which indicates you're likely long gone in the elaborate cave system. He can switch the cameras on the computer from key observation points around the city to the different levels of the cave itself, but the idea of subjecting his corneas to the harsh screens again is nearly unbearable.

You're likely going to be occupied for a while, and you already know not to leave the cave.

Damian could just...can just...

Just rest his eyes for five minutes.

[fanaticsnail]

All i could think about when I saw this post was the hey doc series and how flustered some of the boys would be hearing some of those key terms, like sleeper agent triggers 😂

Shut up, Captain.

Hey Doc Masterlist

Word Count: 1,900+

Art by @thenotsofantasticlifestory. Check out Sto's other works!!

Synopsis: Wire comes into the medical bay and you're immediately springing to action. A crowd gathers at the door as they listen to you and Wire share a moment together that sounds far from innocent.

Themes: Wire x gn!reader, suggestive themes, spicy language, Kid Pirates x reader, surgery, blood, extractions, you are 'Doc' - the doctor of the Kid Pirates.

Notes: The way I cackled when I saw this ask, obsession. I didn't know which way I wanted to go with it, but I'm glad I went this way. I hope you like it too!

“Hey Doc?” A panicked voice called from your door, “Emergency, honey. Help. It-... It's stuck.” Turning in your seat, you took one moment at the tall, hooded commander’s face and immediately dropped your jaw.

“Wire.”

“It looks worse than-.”

“-Sit in the cot, Wire,” you ordered him, immediately moving to fetch your gloves hidden in your desk drawer. Turning directly around, you drew over to your office door and flicked the latch to lock the notch fully secured as you always would before you began a serious consultation.

You flicked your gloves in your hand as you made your way over to your sterile equipment to acquire all you need to treat the larger man. Drawing them over your fingertips with haste and a smack of the ring at your wrist, you flew into action with a haste you didn't recognise.

As he drew casually over to the bay and made himself comfortable reclining against the chair, you immediately bodied his chest with your elbows to pin him back against the surface. He looked at you with wide eyes as you bore down your weight on him.

“Listen to me really carefully, Wire,” you utter softly and firmly towards him. “You need to follow every single thing I have to say, alright? Nod for me.”

The taller man did as he was told, bobbing his head gently up and down while darting his eyes between yours.

“Good job. Now hold still.”

Stomping with heavy leather boot heels through the lengthy corridor on the Victoria Punk, Eustass Captain Kid’s amber eyes fell on an unusual sight gathered at the door to his doctor’s quarters.

Ears pressed to the door, eyes wide, bodies tense, and faces otherwise shocked: Bubblegum, Heat, Boogie, Killer, and Hop stood in momentary stasis as if frozen in fear. The only indication that there was no fear to be had was the rosy blush blooming on their faces, ears and trickling down their necks. Each person was red-faced while darting their pupils away from the door alongside leaning in closer.

“The fuck are you all do-?”

“-Shut up, Captain!” The joint hiss reverberated from the chasms of the chests and flooded from the lips of the small crowd. Kid curled his upper lip, flinching a little in shock at the immediate reaction. Arching his shoulders back and rolling his neck to relieve some tension, He took two steps forward and crouched in front of the door. Lowering his voice as he drew his eyes directly in front of Hop’s closed ones, he bore his intensity directly into her.

“What the fuck are we all doing?” he whispered softly. Hop opened her eyes but continued to stare at the door while her ears pricked up.

“Doc is domming Wire,” she hushed her tone in response. Kid’s eyes widened briefly, nudging her head out of the way to press his ear directly to the door.

"Open up more for me. Go on, I know you can stretch wider."

“Mmmmghfh-!”

“That's it, Wire. Doing so good for me. Keep it up just like that and you'll be finished soon enough.”

Kid recoiled away from the door, staring at the wood in disbelief before darting his eyes around the crew in front of him. Each of the five in front all drew up a dark blush on the skin revealed to him. Killer's flushed neck swelled as his Adams apple bobbed back a collection of saliva.

“Kil, how long have they been at this?” Kid hissed through clenched teeth at his first mate. Killer choked back a small cough and turned his mask towards Kid.

“About an hour,” the blonde responded, moving his ear towards the door and attempting to peer through the locked port in the door.

"Little bit of pressure coming up, just lay back and let me do the work," you purred affectionately at the taller commander. "I'm gonna have to push down on your tongue to keep it from flapping around too much.”

A muffled groan rose from Wire’s chest, causing the audience to internally shriek at the sentence.

“Since when does Wire get dominated?” Kid whispered down to Heat. The scarred firebreather glanced up at his captain and turned his head to the side.

“He doesn't. That's why we're all shocked as hell that it's happening-.” Heat’s voice cut off mid sentence as a particularly shuddered, keening whimper sprung up into the air from behind the door.

"Can you hold it a little longer, or do you need a break?" you asked, steady voice never wavering, "Almost there. I promise I'm really close, Wire. Just a little longer, and a tiny bit more pressure, and it'll come."

“Gods,” Boogie whispered softly, turning his head to the side and shrieking internally, “I really don't think we should be listening in on this. Kind of private-.”

“-Shut it, Boogie,” Kid whispered hurriedly, leaning in closer and listening to the sounds of soft rocking and moans from Wire expelling out. “This is a once in a lifetime thing. Didn't think Doc had it in ‘em to take on Wire, but bloody hell.”

At one more extremely loud moan, a joint sigh of relief was heard between both you and Wire. There were immediate sounds of sucking and suctioning mixed with fluids being spat into a bucket beside you both.

"Oh, so good Wire,” you praised him further, smacks of latex leaving your hands as the material fled from your skin, “Did such a good job. We got there in the end, didn't we?”

“Thanks, Doc,” Wire gasped through sputters of breath, “I'll get out of your hair now. Thanks for taking care of me, honey.” The sound of Wire’s breathy pants, his exclamation punctuated by his announcement of his next steps, and shuddered exhale caused the audience to jolt back from the door and begin to scatter throughout the hallway.

“Alright then, Wire. Just leave me with the clean up, why don't you?” you laugh over your shoulder as he unlocked the door and stepped out into the hallway. Immediately meeting with an audience of six gathered over the threshold, he took a moment to peer down at them and furrow his brows.

“What the hells are you all doing out here?” Wire queeried with his brow arched and mouth slightly swollen larger than it was earlier in the day. Each person began to ‘um’ and ‘ah’ for excuses until Kid stepped forward and began his line of questioning.

“Knew you had the hots for Doc, but didn't think you'd actually act on it.” He shrugged, peering on past Wire as you halted your clean up at your sterilization bay. “Good on you, Wire. Weird that you'd let ‘em dom you immediately. Would've thought you'd-.”

“-What the fuck, Captain?” you call, turning around with your face flushed and eyes wild with rage. “This isn't a brothel, this is a medical bay. One: if I was to take a lover, it wouldn't be in this fucking space.” You gesture to the room and begin to step towards your captain with rage in every step, “And, two: Wire was literally just sitting in a chair with his mouth open while I was fishing glass out of the inside of his cheeks.”

Eustass Kid looked from you, then to Wire who's lips parted to reveal pink-stained gauze on the inside of his lips. Before Kid had an opportunity to ask the question as to ‘why’, you immediately answered.

“Some idiot accidentally placed glass in an ice bucket on the top deck. Wire made himself a drink with it, and as soon as he took a sip, several shards of glass split the insides of his mouth,” you growled, gently shooing Wire from your space alongside the rest of the crew at the door, “Thanking the gods that he didn't swallow it, and chose to spit it as soon as he realized, but the damage was done.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” you snarled sarcastically at your loitering crowd while waving Wire on with a smile. The rest of the crowd fled the scene, Heat catching up with Wire and asking him follow up questions about the ice, and whether it was discarded before Dive got to it. Wire spoke to the best of his abilities with the gauze in his cheeks, but Heat managed to understand due to the fact that he spoke similarly when he first got his facial scars.

The only two members that remained were you and the captain, who was staring down directly at you with an unreadable expression on his face. You furrowed your brows in puzzlement, scrunching up your nose and glaring at him.

“What?” you asked with a small hint of venom in your tone. Kid took a step towards you, narrowing his eyes and judging your expression with his curiosity.

“Nothin’,” he snarled in return, lips pouting as he upturned his chin away from you, “Just sounded like you were getting cozy with the giant, is all.”

You growled up at him, taking a step forward and almost chest to chest with your captain as you bore into him with your fury. He couldn't help but then back around to face you, taken aback by your rage.

“If I did, it would not be in my medical bay for the same reason you don't take a partner in your workshop,” you snapped at him, pushing him from your door into the hallway with every step forward. “This is my space. A space where I do my job and take care of my crew. This is my sanctuary, my domain, and I will not desolate the space by claiming a lover in it. Now,” you shoved him back with your hands on his pectorals and watched as he stepped back to overemphasize your shove.

“I have a medical bay to clean and sanitize,” you whisper, taking the door in your hands and beginning to close the door, “So, do your job and get us closer to the Heart Pirates so I can switch out with them and see what their med bay is like-.” You attempted to shut the door, halted by a metal hand drawing up to grip the top of the frame.

“-Oh, come on,” he smirked down at you, tilting his head to the side and drawing his body closer, “You haven't even thought about it once?”

“No,” you utter firmly, prying the metal from your door and slapping at it, “Now do your job, and leave me to mine.” Kid chuckled at your tone of voice, lifting his metal hand up and releasing your door from his grip.

“You sure you wanna go through with this, Doc?” he asked you, his smirk leaving him and replaced by a genuine look of uncertainty, “Don't wanna lose you to them if I can help it.” His tangerine colored eyes scanned yours, darting between them as you softened your features with a sigh.

“I'd never leave you, Cap,” you reassured him, reaching your hand up and clapping him on the shoulder. Sharing a soft moment with him, neither of you speaking while he gazed down at you, you ruined the moment by whispering as intimately and quietly as you could towards him.

“Now get the fuck out of my space.”

“Aye, Doc,” he cackled, releasing the door entirely and stepping away from your medical bay, “And we'll be seeing the Polar Tang in about a day.” You nod with a smirk, closing the door in your captain’s face and returning to cleaning up the mess left behind by Wire’s accident with the glass in his drink.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @nerium-lil @sinning-23 @a-killer-obsession @saraptor-art

[mutlifandomloverblog]

Scars to your Beautiful

Summary: Natasha gets stuck in her head after a difficult mission. You're there to pull her out.

A/N: it has been a long time since I've written anything. But yesterday, i got the itch to write. So i dusted off the keys on my lap top and wrote this. Please be gentle as I'm a little rusty. But I hope you guys enjoy this. Let me know what you think. Also, I'm very greatful to my best friend, @griffin-girl-r who beta read this. I have some more works planned that i'll post if this doesn't flop.

Warnings: Sad Natasha, insecurity, uhhh like one mention of self harm, if you blink, you'll miss it. I can't think of anything else. if you find something, let me know, i'll add it.

The door creaked open with a familiar groan, and Natasha Romanoff stepped off the elevator onto her shared floor of the tower, her body moving slower than usual. Her duffel bag grew heavier with every second, her shoulders sagging from exhaustion. The elevator doors shut quietly behind her. She moved to her room quietly, not wanting to wake you and Wanda up as she passed the doors to your rooms. The mission had been longer, messier, and more brutal than she’d anticipated. The intel was good, but it hadn’t prepared her for the ambush that had turned the extraction into a war zone.

She moved silently down the hallway, the lights dim and the clock on the wall glowing 2:03 AM. Her ribs ached with every breath, her knuckles were split, and a fresh cut along her side throbbed beneath the bandage. She had stitched it herself in the safehouse, but it still hurt like hell.

When she reached her bedroom, Natasha paused, her hand on the knob. Your room was across the hall, and she debated whether to check if you were awake. Instead, she turned the knob and stepped into the quiet dark, closing the door behind her.

She didn’t turn on the light.

Natasha stripped out of her black tactical suit slowly, carefully. Every movement pulled at bruised muscle or scraped skin. She made her way to the mirror, her breath catching when the moonlight through the window revealed her reflection.

Purple bruises bloomed across her ribs and thighs. The cut on her side peeked from beneath the bandage, already yellowing around the edges. Older scars lined her abdomen, shoulders, and arms — souvenirs from years of red in her ledger. Normally, she could look at them without flinching. But tonight, they made her feel... ugly.

You hadn’t seen her like this. Not really. The two of you had only been dating for a few months. It was still new, still uncertain, still beautiful in that way new things are. You’d seen her in tank tops, sports bras, maybe a few lazy post-shower glimpses. But not like this — not all of her. Not the part of her that bore the evidence of every fight, every fall, every survival.

She sat down on the edge of the bed, the pain catching up to her all at once. Her breath trembled, a rare and vulnerable thing. She wasn’t crying. Not yet. But she was close.

The knock on the door was soft, hesitant. She froze.

"Nat?" your voice whispered gently. "You're back?"

She quickly pulled the blanket from the bed to cover herself. “Yeah,” she replied, voice hoarse.

There was a pause. “Can I come in?”

Natasha hesitated. Part of her wanted to say no — to hide until the bruises faded, until the scars felt less like a map of pain. But something in your voice, in the care and softness of it, made her answer quietly, “Yeah.”

You stepped in, eyes adjusting to the dark, and your expression softened when you saw her. “I didn’t hear you come in. I was up. Couldn’t sleep.”

She gave a weak smile. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Your eyes moved over her, noticing the blanket clutched around her shoulders and the tension in her posture. “You okay?”

She looked away. “I’ve had worse.”

That wasn’t what you asked, but you let it slide. You crossed the room and sat down beside her, close but not touching. “You want to talk about it?”

She was quiet for a long time. The seconds stretched out, filled only by the rhythm of your breathing.

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” she said finally, her voice low and brittle.

“Like what?”

She exhaled slowly. “Bruised. Battered. Scarred.”

You turned slightly to face her, but didn’t push.

“I know I’m supposed to be... this fearless assassin. And I can be. But sometimes when I look at myself after missions, I see someone who’s just... broken.” She glanced at you, her voice catching. “You’ve never seen all of it. The scars. The burns. The things people have done to me. I— I didn’t want you to.”

Your heart ached. “Nat...”

“I’m scared,” she said, finally letting the truth spill. “I’m scared you’ll look at me and not see me. You’ll just see damage.”

You reached out, slowly, letting her decide if she wanted the touch. When she didn’t pull away, you rested your hand gently on hers.

“May I?” you asked softly.

She nodded.

You took the edge of the blanket and pulled it back carefully, revealing the bruises, the bandage, the old scars she’d worked so hard to keep hidden. She kept her eyes down, like she couldn’t bear to see your reaction.

But you didn’t flinch. You didn’t look away.

You traced the faint scar on her shoulder with the pad of your thumb. “You know what I see?”

She shook her head.

“I see someone who’s survived everything the world threw at her. Someone who fought through hell and came out the other side. These aren’t signs of weakness, Nat. They’re signs of strength.”

Her lips parted, but no words came.

You moved carefully, putting your knees on the bed. You gestured to her lap. “May I? You asked softly. She nodded, no hesitation. You carefully maneuvered yourself so you were sitting on her lap, just above her knees. She looked up at you in question. You just smiled at her. You reached town to the hem of your shirt and pulled it off of you. She looked surprised before looking down at your body. She finally understood what you were showing her. Your scars. And there were many. Scars she has never seen. 

Her eyes moved from your scars to your face, something softening behind the tiredness and fear.

“I have them too, Nat. Some from HYDRA, some from missions, some self inflicted. But each and every one tells how I survived every thing that happened to me. Yours do too. Scars are beautiful. Because they mean you are still here.” You tell her. 

Her breath hitched.

“I’m not in love with some fantasy version of you,” you continued. “I’m falling for the real you. The one who’s lived. The one who’s endured.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly brushed it away, but you caught her hand and squeezed it gently.

“You don’t have to hide from me. Not ever.”

She leaned into you slowly, resting her forehead against your shoulder. “I didn’t know how to say it... but thank you.”

You wrapped your arms around her carefully, mindful of her injuries. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m here. That’s what matters.”

For a while, you just held her — no words, no expectations. Just the silence that came with shared understanding. And in that silence, Natasha let herself breathe.

She pulled back slightly, eyes searching yours. “You really think they’re beautiful?”

You smiled. “Every single one.”

She gave a soft, disbelieving laugh and shook her head. “God, you’re something else.”

You pressed a kiss to her temple. “Takes one to know one.”

She leaned into the touch, a smile playing at her lips for the first time that night. “I want to show you. All of me. Just... not tonight. I need a little more time.”

You nodded. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes glistened again, but this time with something closer to hope.

She rested her head back on your shoulder, her hand finding yours and holding tight.

And in that quiet room, beneath the weight of her pain and your comfort, Natasha Romanoff began to believe that maybe — just maybe — love could see beyond the scars.

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

I have a slightly angsty headcannon about Sonic.

I know he's not normally big on touch or physical affection, but based on two scenes, there seems to be an implication that he gets more clingy/keen on touch when he's in pain. 🥲

The first example is in Sonic Frontiers. Tails knows Sonic better than anyone. When Sonic freed Tails from his cyber cage, and Tails saw him on his knees and coughing, what did he IMMEDIATELY try to do?

Run and hug him. 🥹💔

As if there were previous times when Sonic was suffering with one thing or another, and Tails's hugging him helped him feel a little better. 🥹 Of course, Sonic then tried to brush it off and hide it from Tails, but Tails's initial reaction still says something to me.

The second example is in the last episode of Sonic Prime. The set of scenes between the energy extraction and returning home is probably the most vulnerable I've ever seen Sonic act around his friends, and the most he's had to rely on them (which really says something about how bad he must've been feeling 💔). Besides a couple scenes when he was more or less standing on his own, he spent almost the whole time leaning on one of his friends. He was practically clinging to Knux at the start of it.

There were low-key moments like this later on with Thorn holding his hand and Shadow carrying him, but this moment stuck out the most to me in context of this headcannon.

It's ... both sad and sweet. I'm just glad Sonic's friends are there for him when he needs them. 💙

[whereserpentswalk]

A mech pilot needs to get outside help to be extracted from their mech. If they aren't, they'll be trapped forever. Since a body has to be in stasis to pilot a mech they're basically immortal in there. Theoretically a mech pilot trapped in their mech could be there for thousands of years. And because of security measures it's useally only a few people who would have the keys to unlock it.

For those whose mechs are too damaged to move its a sorry fate. They're trapped without any way to scream for help, feeling the pain of their mechanical body's death over and over again. Some will just rot there. Some might figure out how to turn their weapons on themselves and free themselves from such a fate.

But for those who can still move, they're basically stuck living the rest of their life as their mech. Mechs can recharge with organic material, the grass they burn under their feet as they walk, and the corpses of the fallen, all can replace more advanced fuel. They can basically wander whatever planet they're on forever, exploring it until someone eventually finds them, if someone ever does.

Sometime a mech like this will end up on an inhabited world. Useally not one at a space faring level of advancement, but it's common for them to end up on worlds with pre industrial societies of humans or aliens on them. In that case they do have civilizations to interact with, though with their bodies stuck as massive machines of war, and most ways of communication gone from them, they'll always be outside of their society somewhat.

For the primitive worlds with these lost mechs on them such creatures are like giants of myth. Massive men of metal and glass capable of decimating armies and cities with their power. Some wander in distant lands, living far away from civilization, only occasionally interacting with locals when they please, but generally acting like massive cryptids. Others have become sadistic terrors, attacking cities and towns as part of a long forgotten war, with local armies having no way to effectively fight them, and then retreating back into the wilds before striking again.

Still, some are not so unfriendly to the local populations. Some serve as guardians, like massive golems, protecting settlements and watching over their many generations, keeping outsiders at bay. Guardians of that sort even contribute in peaceful ways, helping locals build things with their massive strength, or helping quell natrual disasters. Perhaps they have finally found a way of life beyond war.

[project-sekai-facts]

Hey I've been wondering, could you explain Akito and his death symbolism? It's been constantly mentioned or implied in his recent focus songs and VBS covers (getting lines about "death" or "dying" and the likes)

It's just because the fandom is using that to mischaracterize him as an overly depressed and suicidal guy (another Mafuyu copy; pls save him and Tsukasa) and I just don't think that's what the writers mean to say and the point of his whole character!!!

(prefacing this: I'm aware there was a thread about this going round twitter a while ago, I haven't read it specifically because of this ask and if anything is the same that wasn't intentional and I apologise)

A large part of Akito's character arc is his difficulty with improvement and his sheer determination and passion that goes alongside it. He had always viewed his lack of natural talent and unrefined skills as something that made him inferior, which only led to him pushing himself to his extremes, and trying to face things independently and head-on. This is something that's touched on heavily in the STRAY BAD DOG event, where we get to see him learn to rely on his teammates more and realise that he isn't alone. Find A Way Out continues his arc of personal development, with him realising he's actually not so different to the people he looks up to, and finally learning to accept and feel confident with his improvement instead of just pushing forward almost desperately. It's that idea of him finally realising that he won't always be a step behind everyone else and good things are actually coming with his hard work.

Building off that idea, it's like a sort of rebirth. And that's where the links to Kashika come in. Kashika is a song about death and longing which gets horribly misinterpreted and has led people to believe Akito is suicidal which is simply untrue. The thing that's dying in this context is Akito's old self. The child who had no talent and was falling so far behind everyone. The child who worked so, so, so hard to be perfect is dying. And that sounds like a negative thing but it's really not. It's a metaphor for Akito reflecting on himself and moving on from the past and breaking new ground.

The 2DMV adds another layer to this with its marigolds, which not only symbolise death, but also can symbolise a renewal. And in this case, renewal refers to Akito's growth following the events of FAWO. He finally faced up to his past mistakes and overcame them, but even then he won't let himself feel relief. It's only with the help of Taiga's story about Ken that he's finally able to be more satisfied with himself and how far he's managed to come. He's finally able to break out from that belief that he's forever going to be stuck behind, and he's able to have faith in himself. Realising that Ken was just like him and managed to get to such a high level of skill and be so respected by those around him finally lets Akito believe that he too can reach that same light.

The butterflies in the background again symbolise renewal or transformation. It's not about death as per se, it's about change. Change and growth and transformation are recurring themes in prsk's character writing, and Akito is no exception. While on a surface level, Kashika is about death, if you put it next to the story, it's about regeneration. Akito is moving forward and leaving the old him behind, he says as much in the FAWO story.

If you actually read the lyrics to Kashika, it's genuinely kinda shocking to me how much people misinterpret its connection to Akito as a character. Like I get the song talks about death a lot and wanting to die, but particularly in these extracts you can see some of the key points of the FAWO event - Akito's determination, passion and self-acceptance. It's a song about Akito growing up, physically and emotionally, and saying goodbye to his past self.

Now as anon pointed out, the marigolds previously appeared in his card from Light Up The Fire. And while in the case of this event, it was most likely drawn to connect with the story surrounding Nagi's death, but it's worth mentioning that every character had their own flower, so the marigolds are specific to him.

As I mentioned in today's fact, aside from being associated with death, grief, and mourning, marigolds can also have positive connotations of optimism and passion based on their warm and vibrant colors. One of the key elements of LUTF was despair and grief, shown through more ways than one. Whilst the truth of Nagi's death came as a shock to the VBS and the others, the following battle with Taiga crushed their hope to the point that everyone except VBS gave up. VBS decides to keep trying for Nagi, and again there's that idea of a renewal. They know the truth now, and are going to come back and get better. Now while this is more general about VBS, the marigolds are still specific to Akito, considering how he's always been the most determined one who has taught himself that the only way he can succeed is through sheer perseverance. Whilst it applies to all of VBS in this instance, it applies even moreso to him.

Also it leads very nicely into his fes card story, which follows after the events of LUTF from his point of view. Something notable about his fragment sekai is that it's a completely barren wasteland. It's dead. And to top it all off, he gets amnesia. However the whole point of his sekai is to remind him of his determination, remind him that he has never once given up on this dream, how he's fought and fought to hold onto it and shouldn't let what happened with Taiga and the truth behind RW strike him down. Despite the area being dead and barren, and despite the fact he can't even remember who he is at all, he still pushes forwards and keeps walking through the dangerous environment because he knows he can't just sit around, he knows he has to do something. He knows it's not a choice, it's a necessity for him to persevere, even if he can't remember why. In the end he does remember, and finds a single flower that is managing to flourish despite the harsh conditions, and he even compares himself to it because truthfully they're one in the same. Even in a hopeless situation, Akito manages to pull through. In a metaphorical sense, he can't truly die, he still finds a way to thrive even if the world is against him. His determination truly is the core of his character.

And that leads us nicely to BURN MY SOUL, which I would consider to be the end of his first character arc. Despite having learnt a lesson about his true strength and potential in FAWO, he still hasn't reached that full potential, and he still believes that he needs to keep pushing and keep working. Through Ken's advice, he's able to realise that he's been so focused on perfection that he's bottling up all the passion inside of him. Because he's so passionate about music and it's this passion that fuels his resolve that is ultimately his core, his soul. And especially after everything that's happened, the fact that there's still a lingering sense of despair after the incident with Taiga, he needs to truly let that passion burn and realise that his true potential has been inside of him all along. His role as assigned by Ken is to light up a fire amongst the people again, so he let's the fire within him burn freely for the first time, and it works exactly as needed and is able to rekindle hope throughout the town and in one of his teammates.

Back to that idea about how metaphorically Akito cannot die, I really like the symbolism of fire within VBS and Akito in particular because it's framed in such a way that the fire lit by RW is a flame that can't burn out. Even with things such as CRaZY's "I'm so ready to die" and the "I'm going to pry it open like I'm going to die" voiceline that plays when you pull his WL card, it's not meant in such a way that he wants to die, but in a way that he's going to put his all into it as if it is the last thing he'll ever do. Akito doesn't want to die, he wants to live to see things through to the end. He's too determined to let anything snuff out his flame, and even then that makes me think of the original usage of snuffing out a flame, which was actually to trim the wick so the flame could burn brighter. If you care enough about that dumb candle analogy, you could say that Taiga/the events of LUTF tried to extinguish Akito's flame, only for him to come back from the dead (and quite literally considering the wasteland in his fes card), and now he's only burning brighter and stronger.

Akito's death symbolism isn't a negative thing. Akito isn't someone who wants to die, he's too determined to die. No matter how much the universe tells him to give up he'll never stop pushing and never stop breaking down the walls around him until he sees his dreams through. All his death symbolism is equally tied to the idea of rebirth or even just living. Kashika is about him leaving his past behind and moving forward, his fes card is about his passion counteracting despair, and Burn my soul/CRaZY/Break down the wall are all about him being so fired up that he's going to act as if it's his final day. He's learning to be satisfied with his life and where he is. He's ready to live and to say he wants to die is a great injustice to his character arc.

[indianalocksmithservices-blog]

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[llamagoddessofficial]

📚 pretty please?

I shan't give too many details about this one, because I am pretty dedicated to writing it at this point - but Farmtale Sans is on the cards. Here's a teeny extract from the first chapter I've written out.

---

You sat down at the kitchen table. The chairs smelt of wood varnish. You had no idea what you were going to do for food, the last store you recalled passing on the way here felt like hours ago. You had no heating, no lights. No gas. Almost definitely no hot water. 

You felt like just laying down on the floor and crying forever. 

A knock on the front door. 

You jumped out of your fucking skin. Someone was at the door? Suddenly, a bunch of horrible thoughts started racing through your head. Did you get the wrong house? Was the will wrong? Did the key just happen to fit? Is this someone’s home, and you just came in, kicked their carpet and sat at their table? You scrabbled over to the door, rattling the handle and eventually shoving it open. 

... A massive, lanky skeleton monster stood before you. 

“HELLO THERE!” He spoke extremely cheerfully, but in a volume that made you startle. He was wearing dark blue overalls, heavy black rubber boots, and an orange gingham-patterned top. “WHY, IT’S LOVELY TO FINALLY MEET YOU! I’M PAPYRUS, YOUR NEW NEIGHBOUR!”

He stuck out a huge hand, covered by a garden glove. 

You stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, blinking up at the skeleton. He was... how did he get here so fast? Eventually you snapped yourself out of your rude gawking and took his hand, shaking cautiously.

“... Neighbour?” you managed to say. But there weren’t any houses around for what felt like miles...?

He nodded enthusiastically. “MY BROTHER AND I OWN THE FARM JUST OUTSIDE OF THE TOWN. WE’RE A HALF HOUR DRIVE AWAY.”

You paused. “You came out all that way, just to greet me?”

He seemed confused, for a moment, but quickly smiled again, even breaking into chuckles. “OH! YOU MUST BE FROM THE CITY, RIGHT? NYEHEHEH, YOU MUST THINK HALF AN HOUR IS A LONG DRIVE! NYEHEHEHE!”

... What a strange feeling. You’d never before met someone who could laugh right at you, yet not feel malicious at all. He still made you feel like he was laughing with you. Papyrus’ smile reached his eyes (eyesockets?) so much that he had smile lines in the bone.

You smiled yourself, a little. “Y-yeah, I guess I do think that’s a long way. I’m (y/n). How did you know I’d arrived?”

“TORIEL HAS BEEN LOOKING AFTER THIS HOUSE FOR A FEW YEARS. WHEN I HEARD IT WAS FINALLY GOING TO BE PUT TO USE, I STARTED DRIVING PAST EVERY DAY, TO BE CERTAIN THAT AS SOON AS OUR NEW NEIGHBOUR MOVED IN I’D BE ABLE TO GREET THEM LIKE A PROPER NEIGHBOUR SHOULD.” He spoke so fast, but so confidently. “I’M SO GLAD I WAS ABLE TO MEET YOU BEFORE I REACHED ONE HUNDRED VISITS!”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed. “Th... thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“ANYWAY. NOW THAT I’VE INTRODUCED MYSELF, I MUST INSIST YOU JOIN US FOR DINNER!”

What? “Huh?”

“OF COURSE!” He nodded again, as if agreeing with himself. “IT IS NOT ONLY THE POLITE THING TO DO, BUT I HIGHLY DOUBT YOU HAVE IMMEDIATE DINNER PLANS THAT ARE HEALTHY OR NUTRITIOUS CONSIDERING YOUR LONG TRIP! I MUST INSIST THAT YOUR FIRST MEAL IN YOUR NEW COMMUNITY IS A GOOD ONE!”

... You could’ve cried. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be as nightmarish as you thought.

“I’d love to. But I’ve really got to unpack everything first, and clean this old place out. We could exchange phone numbers?”

“I’LL HELP YOU UNPACK!”

You stared incredulously at the monster before you. Was he real? “I-I,”

“I’LL CALL MY BROTHER. I CAN’T GUARANTEE HE’LL BE HERE BEFORE WE’RE FINISHED, THOUGH, HE’S SUCH A SLOWPOKE.”

[sihedwu]

Crystal Theory: The Binding, The One, and Everything

Alright everyone, the time has finally come to step onto the slippery slope and delve into the depths of uncertainty and various interpretations. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Today we’re gonna break down the Crystals and everything connected to them. We’ll even talk about the Medulla Crystal, by the way.

Crawling through the tag, I see you guys like to tell each other scary stories, like the Medulla Crystal is made of - get this! - actual BRAIN. Talk about nightmare fuel! >:D

Also, while lurking on a foreign website, I stumbled upon a really interesting take that the Aerrow and Piper duo were destined to be, like, the messiahs in our favorite show (hey there, I know you’re reading this >:D).

But to me, there’s something missing in all of this, like we’re seeing everything but still missing something super important. And now we’re gonna try to figure out what exactly that important thing could have eluded us. Let’s go.

Review of Hints

So, if you’ve been paying attention to the show, you’re probably aware of all the basics, such as, for example, that crystals can possibly be manufactured (episode “The Masked Masher”). But that’s not enough, we need new information. Let’s try to extract it from the hints that Mr. Asaph Fipke so kindly provided us. Let’s review them.

Our first stop is the episode “The Black Gorge”. Let’s remember the plot: our heroes decided to fly over the Black Gorge, but “something” sucked the energy out of their crystals and they fell down. But Piper found a solution:

She launched the Condor using this crystal, since the Black Gorge doesn’t affect it for some reason. Let’s remember this, it’ll come in handy.

Our next stop is the episode “Storm Warning”. Again, let’s remember the plot: the heroes stole a box of Leech Crystals, which steal energy, from the Cyclonians, and they discharged the Condor’s crystals. However, Piper again saved the situation by telling Stork to get rid of the crystals.

As we can see, as soon as Stork put the crystals in the isolator, the energy miraculously fully restored, and the Condor was able to take off. Let’s remember this and move on.

Our next stop is in the episode “The Lesson”. Let’s carefully watch what Arygyn will do now:

Let’s not get stuck on it, let’s remember it and move on.

Now let’s take a closer look at the episode “Five Days”. This time, there’s not much to comment on, it’s enough just to see it once:

Someone sees a glimmer of kindness in our beloved Master Cyclonis in this scene, while others quite reasonably ask: “who made that picture?” For us, it’s important that a photo can be stored in a crystal. Let’s remember this.

Our last stop is in the episode “The Key”. In this episode, we are introduced to the Binding.

We won’t dwell on them too much, just note that the abilities transferred through them are very reminiscent of the properties of some crystals. Let’s remember this and move on to the next step.

Fundamental Principle of How Crystals Work

So, let’s write down what we learned:

The Black Gorge somehow absorbs the energy of crystals, but does not affect the Solaris Crystal

If you drain the energy from crystals, and then remove the absorber, the energy of the crystals is immediately restored

Arygyn can turn off a crystal

Photos can be stored in crystals

Some abilities transmitted through Binding resemble the abilities of crystals

The inputs have been received. Now we can try to interpret them. I propose to do this with the following three postulates:

Postulate One: Information Can Be Stored in Crystals

This postulate is probably obvious, but its significance is far from obvious. For now, let’s focus on the fact that, in addition to photos, it should be possible to store, for example, a control program for a Suit of Untold Vengeance in a crystal.

Judging by the fact that the Medulla Crystal affects the user, we can assume that it is controlled using a neuro-interface, and the Medulla Crystal acts as a kind of “intermediary.” But that’s not important to us. Let’s move on to the next postulate:

Postulate Two: All Crystals, Without Exception, are Energy Receivers

Even the Solaris Crystal. It may sound crazy, but this assumption is fully consistent with what we see. If crystals receive energy from somewhere outside, then the miraculous restoration of energy after Stork hid the box in the isolator requires no explanation, and turning off in the Black Gorge can be compared to losing signal on a cell phone when you are outside the coverage area. However, the Solaris Crystal is still incomprehensible, as is the scene with Arygyn, so let’s move on to the final postulate:

Postulate Three: Binding is a Channel Through Which Crystals Receive Energy

So, the last postulate is quite straightforward. The scene with Arygyn should now become a little clearer, but the Solaris Crystal still requires explanation. Apparently, crystals are constantly and continuously in Binding, otherwise they would have turned off in the Black Gorge once and for all, as Arygyn seems to have done. However, in this case, we will have to assume that the analogy with cellular communication is not entirely correct, and in the “poor coverage area” the Binding simply weaken, but do not disappear completely. Weakening, they cannot provide the Condor’s take-off and the operation of the main systems, but are still able to maintain the Solaris Crystal in working order. The function of the Solaris Crystal is to accumulate solar energy; to store it, it uses the energy received from Binding. Most likely, there is not enough energy in one crystal to lift the Condor into the air, so the following explanation suggests itself: with the help of the energy accumulated by the Solaris Crystal, you can “strengthen” the weakened Binding. Apparently, this is exactly what Piper meant; in any case, this seems like a plausible explanation.

Binding and Information

According to the third postulate, this technique should be perceived as a temporary transformation of the user into a crystal. How exactly such a transformation occurs, I, unfortunately or fortunately, do not want to and will not explain, so let’s immediately move on to “unique” crystals, for example, this one:

According to the first postulate, to make this artifact, we need to record a “spell” - let’s call it that so as not to drown in the wilderness - of transforming an object into cheese in the crystal. This example is indicative, but other “unusual” crystals work in a similar way. We won’t dwell on them, let’s move on to the next point.

Source of energy

So, we assumed that crystals receive energy from somewhere outside. This entails the assumption that somewhere on Atmos there must be a source of energy for all crystals without exception. Drawing an analogy with cellular communication and, in principle, with radio waves, it is quite logical to assume that the source of all crystalline energy should resemble the TV towers and antennas familiar to us. Following this logic, the purpose of this structure becomes quite transparent:

Somewhere at this moment, an image of an incredibly advanced civilization may arise in your head, possibly reaching or very close to type 1 on the Kardashev scale, which built this transmitter to meet its energy needs. However, despite the fact that this conclusion seems logical, there are no explicit indications in the canon that this is the source of energy. With the same probability, it may be, for example, the core of the planet, and then the image of an incredibly advanced civilization will have to be seriously revised, and the purpose of this structure will remain a mystery. But whatever the source turns out to be in the end, our assumption leads us to a problem that we will now try to solve.

The One

In the episode “Origins”, this character claims that Piper is “the One”. The meaning of his words remains very, very vague to this day, but now we can try to assume what is behind them. First, you should ask an important question: since we assume that all crystalline energy is transmitted through Binding, then why are crystals needed at all on Atmos? You can just train “crystal mages” who will use Binding with the energy source, and no one will know grief. And so it turns out that this statement fits very conveniently into the picture of the world that we have just outlined. Thanks to it, we can assume that not just anyone is able to use Binding directly with the energy source, which is why they need crystals in order to be able to use this energy at all. Thus, I propose the following interpretation of these words: Piper is the primary crystal mage, that is, able to use Binding directly with the energy source. Master Cyclonis, in this case, will be a secondary crystal mage, that is, able to use Binding with crystals already connected to the source, but not directly to it. I believe this explanation is exhaustive, so we can move on to the final part of this analysis.

Piper’s Illness

Well, the moment has come to try to jump above our heads and stretch the facts to make our interpretations work on Atmos. Based on the third postulate, her illness can be explained as follows: Binding themselves are harmful to health, and their constant use will inevitably lead the user to such an outcome. However, Piper did not use Binding for 6 weeks and still got sick, and Cyclonis uses it like there’s no tomorrow and nothing happens to her from this. It is impossible to explain this just like that; we need a new entity. In order not to be completely unfounded, let’s try to derive it from these scenes:

We see that as soon as this aura covered Piper, she immediately felt better, and that Cyclonis clearly knows something that Piper doesn’t know (and doesn’t want to tell us). In order not to go beyond the third postulate, we will have to assume that secondary crystal mages, passing crystalline energy through themselves, cannot fully control it. Even after interrupting Binding, a residual charge remains in them, which, if not removed, will sooner or later bring any crystal mage to this state. Thus, I assume that Cyclonis, unlike Piper, knew that deactivation was needed to work with Binding. And in our case, Leech Crystals can act as deactivators. As for Piper’s healing, in that case we will have to assume that at this moment she used Binding directly with the energy source, thereby removing the residual charge. It sounds very doubtful, but there seems to be no better option…

So, I don’t think I’ve forgotten anything. If you’ve read this far and haven’t died of boredom, then congratulations. I do not claim to be the ultimate truth, just thoughts out loud.

Thank you all for your attention, bye.

[freshdickies]

This is INCREDIBLY self-indulgent Meronia art, drawn at the end of 2024, based on a particular AU!Mello and AU!Near that my friend and I played together in a panfandom supernatural survivor horror LJ RP back in 2009. TWO THOUSAND AND NINE-!!!

Anyway, peek under the cut for a hella long explanation of these two and their whole business:

AU!Mello's original world setting is as follows: A basic Canon Divergence situation. In his universe, L defeated Kira by writing his own name in the Death Note, & during the days he had left to live, L sent word back to England that he wanted Mello & Near to succeed him together, as a pair. While Mello wanted to respect L's decree, he was still too psychosexually hostile towards Near to accept that, & he therefore elected to split L's inheritance, taking up his Erald Coil alias so that he could defeat L-Near by becoming the World's Greatest Detective on his own terms. By the point on his timeline where he was 'extracted' for the panfandom RP, Erald-Mello is 22 years old, & years of working as a detective has calmed & seasoned him into a shrewd, pragmatic, responsible person. Further, getting betrayed by a subordinate & blowing himself up to escape from an undercover situation involving the LA Mafia has both given him his iconic scar, & a renewed desperation & thirst for proving himself as the Best.

AU!Near's original setting is as follows: Plain & simple. He came from a world where L & the succession system had never existed, & as such, he was just a brilliant orphan whose potential was squandered in the foster care system. He was spawned into the RP as a quiet, isolated 16 year old orphan.

After being brought to Nihil [the panfandom RP setting] & meeting/hearing about the alternate realities that his peers came from, AU!Near quickly became fascinated with the fact that every other version of Near or Mello was so brilliant & driven, whereas his world seemed to have given him & HIS Mello back home no purpose. At first, he became resigned to this, & chose to sleepily dissociate from the high-stakes survival situation they had all ended up in. However, my Mello - driven, responsible, a bit egotistical - had taken it upon himself to lead & look after the other people stuck in the survival horror setting, & took a special interest in this frustratingly resigned, helpless Near. Mello was both annoyed with Near for being so useless in the situation, & like... oddly fixated, from very early on. He KNEW Near could be better than this. He respected Near, after all, & alternate universe or not, Near is brilliant. In a way, he felt driven to 'fix' this directionless & squandered Near by pushing him to think, to act, even to collaborate. With all this extremely personal pushing, Near's interest was piqued, & he became infatuated with my Erald-Mello in what would eventually become a kind of yandere way, where if Mello really thought that he had it in him, he wanted to become HIS Near & to earn his respect & hatred as a rival.

Key to their dynamic by the end [where this image is set, after they've broken free of Nihil & ended up in Mello's universe together] is that Mello is still a hornet's nest of conflicting emotions about all of the fucked-up things that have happened between them [Near killing himself to save him, Mello resurrecting Near in a gory ritual where he had to crack open his ribcage with garden shears & his bare hands, the two of them sharing a single pulse after that, Near killing them both in a deliberate bid to break them out of Nihil- a LOT lot lot], & the fact that he was ultimately circuitously seduced by teenager who is a doppelganger of his lifelong nemesis. But the thing is, he's been through hell with this Near, & ultimately chosen to accept his twisted, relentless love as something that he actually desires- something at first thrust upon him, that he now wants to hoard for himself with all of the grim determination of a man who's finally willing to admit that they've twisted & bent themselves into corresponding shapes that have no choice but to fit together. Meanwhile, Near is taking the biggest victory lap of his life & is comfortably smug about it, because after developing a quiet but intense complex about being the least impressive Near, practically unworthy of sharing their name or face, to his mind he has now become the BEST Near, because he is now the chosen rival & PARTNER of a Mello who is, again to his mind, the best & most impressive Mello.